What started out as a very scary and hectic little trip, came out so well that it deserves a post.
I was to go to Bombay (i like that name) for a Schengen visa interview. The meeting was at 8 am and I had to reach even earlier. So I chose a train at midnight, it would reach Bombay Central at 6 sharp, enough time I say. This was the first time I was travelling alone on a train. While I love trains, I was unsure about how this would feel. But the minute i got on it, I knew. The feeling seeped in like I always knew. Trains and the way they move have always fascinated me. They put me to sleep faster than anything I have tried in life. They were all men in my compartment but that hardly mattered, I dont feel that instinctive fear that a girl in my country should by now. Not yet aleast. Very soon, JK Rowling put me to sleep.
The alarm woke me up at 5.30, when I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and even changed my shirt inside the train loo! Another first! All this was necessary because I had to head straight to the consulate office and am sure the Germans wouldnt want it any other way. Once there, Bombay's early morning welcomed me with fallen flowers, some on their way to the ground, a lot of healthy dogs and a few marathi manas sitting on the pavement of the visa office already. Obviously, I chatted them up. They were very interested to know what, why and where of my trip. Not just that, when I asked them how to go about the city, they suggested a few places and said 'Bombay to bekar hai, kantaal gaye hai yaha reh reh ke'. I wondered what they thought of Ahmedabad. Ahem.
By 7.30 am, the whole place filled up and I soon found out my early morning friends were not there to visit europe but to help others do so. They were agents who ensured your visa requirements were correctly submitted. In my head, I realised the people who have expertise on these matters may never see outside of their cities ever. That is where the 'Mumbai is boring' line had come from.
My interview was over as soon as it started and I have a feeling they just want to look at applicants? Decide if I get the visa on the basis of my looks? I seriously do not know. I was just asked where in Europe was I planning to go to. That’s it.
Out on the streets by 8.30 am, I had a whole daytime to look forward to. And no, his cousin sister's house was not appealing just as yet. I walked to Nariman point’s sea line and sat there for a while. Health freaks jogged, people walked their large, imported breed dogs, some youngsters left home early to meet up their lovers before college started. That typical wind that blows near the sea blew, making me feel as free and as happy as ever. Water is therapeutic for me, it makes me a better person.
Then I called a friend living there, found out Cafe Leopold was close by and headed there. It was warm and inviting, the old and high ceilings, the typical Bombay cafe chairs and I took the table right next to the freshly baked pastries. Yes, I sat there, opened my novel again, ordered a cold coffee, chicken hotdog and fries and sat comfortably for an hour or two, I dont know. Reading, sipping that bitter coffee and no rush to be anywhere. As a Kolkata bangali would say, 'ultimate lagchilo'.
I then decided to visit Siddhivinayak, a very endearing orange coloured Ganesha who sits snugly at a place called Dadar. Spoke to the newspaper vendors and the shopkeepers who were just setting shop about my options in transport. I chose to ride a local train. As all the crowds travelled to the opposite direction in the mornings, I found my train, especially my ladies’ coach to be charmingly empty. Women read, sew, chatted and I made a girl remove her Ipod shuffle to talk to me instead. From there, I took a shared taxi to the temple in Prabhadevi. Inside the taxi, a college couple got up who kept calling each other idiot throughout their conversation. The guy was protective, asking her about her Saturday plans and the girl kept asking him to ditch a family wedding to meet her. I saw them in the big line for giving puja in the temple as well. She had wrapped her chunni over her head and he was hoarding her so that no one could brush against her. A cosy love story right there, I thought and smiled.
After speaking into the mice’s ears, I was content. From here, to anywhere I thought. Went to Bandra and fell in love with the summer collection of clothes and shoes I saw there. Bought a lot of tops, a jumpsuit, a pair of chappals and funky pyajamas in a little less than an hour. With no one telling me what is in fashion and what I ought to buy, this was the first ever truly freeing shopping session ever. I knew one thing, if Greece, Venice and Rome was happening, then I was going to have a super wardrobe. If not, I was still going to have a super wardrobe.
His cousin was now calling incessantly, wanting to know if I was lost. With the pressure of saving face and doing in-law duties, I headed to her place. Caught glimpse of a cool looking pub called Three wise men, and stopped for a pint of beer. The first afternoon pub experience in ages for me. Importantly, the first one ever by myself. It was truly liberating to be sitting in an Indian pub without anyone staring, wondering or trying to take advantage of the situation.
Knowing I had done enough, I sat in an auto and reached her place. Typically, had a lunch consisting of aamras and roti and khaman and bid them bye after an hour.
I don’t know what it is but Bombay recharges my cells and makes me a happy spirit, something I cant quite put my finger to. It releases shackles which Delhi always put. It makes me uninhibited, something Ahmedabad will never mange to do. Eight hours in this city and it can easily be called the best mini vacation I ever gave myself.
PS-I did get the visa later that evening.
Showing posts with label LIFE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LIFE. Show all posts
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
A single moment of absolute beauty
She had never seen somebody so colourful. The girl, in her twenties, wore a peach coloured shirt that was merging with the colour of her skin and cobalt blue trousers, dark and heavy in comparison to the light blue sky up above. Her sandals were also peach coloured or maybe orange, but what stood out the most was her red, flaming hair. Straight, the hair flew about in the extremely windy hill of Aeropagus, and she sat and gaped at this beauty wide eyed.
How colourfully gorgeous. The peach was her skin, the red was her hair. Athens could be seen in her entirety from above this hill. Known for religious rites and senate meetings from back then, Aeropagus hill was named after Aero, the god of war in greek mythology. Today, couples, both local and tourists, helped each other up to the top and sat, feeling the wind on their face. Pigeons moved about nearby, pecking at insects and forming a part of the crowd.
She was alone but not really. After a good three hours inside the most beautiful ruins one can ever lay their eyes on, she was now perched at this hill, looking at the Acropolis in the opposite, much higher hill. What history, what mythology, the head was full of starry details and knowledge. For instance, Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty had been with most gods but married Hephaestus, the god of fire, who was, according to lore, the ugliest. Also that his temple had been burnt down. Irony in all, she found. Taking out her little white notebook and the pencil from her hotel room, she started to scribble the name of all that she had seen today. In her heart, she knew, a story was forming, something that needed to be spilled out. But again and again, her eyes turned to the girl with the red hair.
In reality, she compared this girl with Aphrodite. Just as beautiful, with just as handsome a man as Adonis. They were a couple she was sure, but would they last? Would they end up in ‘holy matrimony’? Would she start cooking, taking care of the house? Would she have to throw away those beautifully fitted blue trousers because they wouldn’t fit her anymore? Would that mind blowing red hair soon be tied in a careless bun as she ran around the house, chasing her kids? Would this beauty lead to that reality?
The truth was, she smiled, that every beauty turned to that reality. This moment was all there was to it. This perfect moment of beauty and the wind on your young, pretty face.
How colourfully gorgeous. The peach was her skin, the red was her hair. Athens could be seen in her entirety from above this hill. Known for religious rites and senate meetings from back then, Aeropagus hill was named after Aero, the god of war in greek mythology. Today, couples, both local and tourists, helped each other up to the top and sat, feeling the wind on their face. Pigeons moved about nearby, pecking at insects and forming a part of the crowd.
She was alone but not really. After a good three hours inside the most beautiful ruins one can ever lay their eyes on, she was now perched at this hill, looking at the Acropolis in the opposite, much higher hill. What history, what mythology, the head was full of starry details and knowledge. For instance, Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty had been with most gods but married Hephaestus, the god of fire, who was, according to lore, the ugliest. Also that his temple had been burnt down. Irony in all, she found. Taking out her little white notebook and the pencil from her hotel room, she started to scribble the name of all that she had seen today. In her heart, she knew, a story was forming, something that needed to be spilled out. But again and again, her eyes turned to the girl with the red hair.
In reality, she compared this girl with Aphrodite. Just as beautiful, with just as handsome a man as Adonis. They were a couple she was sure, but would they last? Would they end up in ‘holy matrimony’? Would she start cooking, taking care of the house? Would she have to throw away those beautifully fitted blue trousers because they wouldn’t fit her anymore? Would that mind blowing red hair soon be tied in a careless bun as she ran around the house, chasing her kids? Would this beauty lead to that reality?
The truth was, she smiled, that every beauty turned to that reality. This moment was all there was to it. This perfect moment of beauty and the wind on your young, pretty face.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
the way things came to be..
Dear ex-boyfriend,
Wanted to inform you that the last of our friends have decided to tie the knot. With M and G coming together, the group is now complete.
Ofcourse, the journey was full of surprises. I mean, C ended up not marrying anyone from the group, though he dated almost all the girls in it. Its funny how he almost was on the verge of desperation in the last party we attended together. He said, “Ab bas shaadi karni hai yaar, ab akele maza nahi aata.” Having said that, he chose someone who well, never mind. Lets just say its hardly a love marriage.
R dated the weird girl of CR Park for a while. Then he found someone better at work. But she was a non-Bong and typically, got married off before the Bong guy could commit. Now, he has found through common friends and facebook, what you call a catch. A junior of mine, I quite like her. And she is pretty.
Coming to M and G, you know how they came together; from dating different people within the group to finding each other. They both look the part of an alpha couple and I like the combined nature of the two, especially when we all get drunk. G will always be special for he is the only one I could lock horns with. Having reunited over Old Monk behind IIFT last year, we have found our place under the sun again. And I am very happy for the two.
All this is very surprising, no? I mean, five years back, in 2007, the scene was very different. And who of all people knew you and I would be this way? We both seemed ‘set for life’. I was told ‘is bande se zyada pagal koi nahi hoga’ and you were told ‘tu toh set ho gaya bhai’ by these friends of ours. Little did we know. We would give a hoot to the world and roam around free spiritedly on a Bullet, eat cheesecakes and watch every movie in town. We even discussed kid names, didn’t we? Funny how that didn’t turn up well. You had even got internet by the end. It really got important later on, you know.
That said, I don’t mind that older woman of yours, and you surely shouldn’t mind the epic one I decided to keep. It’s a pity I realized I could be the committed sorts, just not with you. But you are special. And on a day like this, when M and G are sharing laddoos and posting pictures on facebook with their respective mothers, I cant help but think of you. We both could have been there, clapping in glee for them. And maybe some more.
It’s a happy day. Lets soak ourselves in nostalgia and walk about misty eyed, shall we?
love, always.
Wanted to inform you that the last of our friends have decided to tie the knot. With M and G coming together, the group is now complete.
Ofcourse, the journey was full of surprises. I mean, C ended up not marrying anyone from the group, though he dated almost all the girls in it. Its funny how he almost was on the verge of desperation in the last party we attended together. He said, “Ab bas shaadi karni hai yaar, ab akele maza nahi aata.” Having said that, he chose someone who well, never mind. Lets just say its hardly a love marriage.
R dated the weird girl of CR Park for a while. Then he found someone better at work. But she was a non-Bong and typically, got married off before the Bong guy could commit. Now, he has found through common friends and facebook, what you call a catch. A junior of mine, I quite like her. And she is pretty.
Coming to M and G, you know how they came together; from dating different people within the group to finding each other. They both look the part of an alpha couple and I like the combined nature of the two, especially when we all get drunk. G will always be special for he is the only one I could lock horns with. Having reunited over Old Monk behind IIFT last year, we have found our place under the sun again. And I am very happy for the two.
All this is very surprising, no? I mean, five years back, in 2007, the scene was very different. And who of all people knew you and I would be this way? We both seemed ‘set for life’. I was told ‘is bande se zyada pagal koi nahi hoga’ and you were told ‘tu toh set ho gaya bhai’ by these friends of ours. Little did we know. We would give a hoot to the world and roam around free spiritedly on a Bullet, eat cheesecakes and watch every movie in town. We even discussed kid names, didn’t we? Funny how that didn’t turn up well. You had even got internet by the end. It really got important later on, you know.
That said, I don’t mind that older woman of yours, and you surely shouldn’t mind the epic one I decided to keep. It’s a pity I realized I could be the committed sorts, just not with you. But you are special. And on a day like this, when M and G are sharing laddoos and posting pictures on facebook with their respective mothers, I cant help but think of you. We both could have been there, clapping in glee for them. And maybe some more.
It’s a happy day. Lets soak ourselves in nostalgia and walk about misty eyed, shall we?
love, always.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
a life without a ...
I am not the one about the long silences, no. I am the mindless yet entertaining chatter. I am the fall back guy when the silent one needs to fill the space. So my absence was barely being busy at other fronts.
As life has been at what it does best, i.e being unpredictable. I have been rendered jobless. OK that sounds horrible. I have quit after 6 months of ego fighting (read: sword) with my evil Bengali boss. Irony, aint it? So what came as an impulsive decision has turned out to be an albatross on my neck. I know a few people who might be doing the 'I told you so' dance right about now, but well, I am only human and follies are my forte.
December was fun with a trip to Turkey and planning my first ever New year party for friends at my very own place! Yes, my own frikkin awesome flat. It is a happpy feeling when you have lived and paid rent for almost, ummm, forever.. So yeah!
January was a month in which I got down to updating my resume, mailing people, putting my ego aside and following up on whether people received my resume (which ofcourse they did!) and calling up the very same people yet again. I would never hire me if I was the 'people' I mentioned above. Also, was introduced to a new festival, Uttarayan. In Gujarat, they fly kites like nobody's business. I got into it pretty fast, much to his amazement. I guess he should've predicted it, what with my love for sports of all kinds.
While the festival and the wait to get a response from the 'people' kept me happily ignorant of a whole month passing without a job, February brought with it a promise of going and staying with Ma and Baba for a while. I hogged on bengali food, on mutton, chicken, fish and dry fish (yes, we dont leave any kind of fish) and watched theater and movies and sat on a big field with a beer bottle in my hand and a cousin who has started to look very similar to the 21 year old me, the beer guzzling and the dont-care attitude towards authority and public parks included.
Cometh March and just like old times, the exam fear has gripped me. Only that it isnt about exams anymore. Onto my third month of unemployment, I sometimes wonder about life beyond. If I even want to work anymore. Ideally, I should just start writing that book I have always wanted to. But, being a middle class, intelligent and independent woman (we are a type, I swear am not gloating) I must work, preferably in the best place in this city. And thus, neither do creative juices for the book flow, nor does the phone ring.
If I was racist about small towns before, you shouldnt start a debate about it with me now. My loathing towards anything that isnt Delhi has increased by leaps and bounds and I have my ways of keeping it normal. I watch sitcoms.
Yes, I watch endless sitcoms and love the fact that every dysfunctional character in every show can make me laugh. By that logic, I can make myself laugh at me too. And that keeps the peace.
I will be heard more often from now on, pinky swear!
As life has been at what it does best, i.e being unpredictable. I have been rendered jobless. OK that sounds horrible. I have quit after 6 months of ego fighting (read: sword) with my evil Bengali boss. Irony, aint it? So what came as an impulsive decision has turned out to be an albatross on my neck. I know a few people who might be doing the 'I told you so' dance right about now, but well, I am only human and follies are my forte.
December was fun with a trip to Turkey and planning my first ever New year party for friends at my very own place! Yes, my own frikkin awesome flat. It is a happpy feeling when you have lived and paid rent for almost, ummm, forever.. So yeah!
January was a month in which I got down to updating my resume, mailing people, putting my ego aside and following up on whether people received my resume (which ofcourse they did!) and calling up the very same people yet again. I would never hire me if I was the 'people' I mentioned above. Also, was introduced to a new festival, Uttarayan. In Gujarat, they fly kites like nobody's business. I got into it pretty fast, much to his amazement. I guess he should've predicted it, what with my love for sports of all kinds.
While the festival and the wait to get a response from the 'people' kept me happily ignorant of a whole month passing without a job, February brought with it a promise of going and staying with Ma and Baba for a while. I hogged on bengali food, on mutton, chicken, fish and dry fish (yes, we dont leave any kind of fish) and watched theater and movies and sat on a big field with a beer bottle in my hand and a cousin who has started to look very similar to the 21 year old me, the beer guzzling and the dont-care attitude towards authority and public parks included.
Cometh March and just like old times, the exam fear has gripped me. Only that it isnt about exams anymore. Onto my third month of unemployment, I sometimes wonder about life beyond. If I even want to work anymore. Ideally, I should just start writing that book I have always wanted to. But, being a middle class, intelligent and independent woman (we are a type, I swear am not gloating) I must work, preferably in the best place in this city. And thus, neither do creative juices for the book flow, nor does the phone ring.
If I was racist about small towns before, you shouldnt start a debate about it with me now. My loathing towards anything that isnt Delhi has increased by leaps and bounds and I have my ways of keeping it normal. I watch sitcoms.
Yes, I watch endless sitcoms and love the fact that every dysfunctional character in every show can make me laugh. By that logic, I can make myself laugh at me too. And that keeps the peace.
I will be heard more often from now on, pinky swear!
Monday, February 6, 2012
windy waffle love-2
She asked for a waffle with chocolate sauce and cream, and he said he wouldn’t like fruits on it. She knew he enjoyed eating bananas so she ordered for some banana slices on the now divine waffle. When she was given the piece of heaven, she fed him a spoon to which he refused saying he hated bananas during the night and she put it without thinking about him. Well. Here she was, sacrificing on kiwis and strawberries and choosing bananas just because he liked them and this is what she got. That was just too bad.
The argument got bitter and accusations were thrown which would look hilarious on a good day. Making jokes on how he ate bananas in fixed hours of the day and hated them on others got out of hand and the date was abruptly over. From fruits, they moved on to the nagging issues of life like place, culture etc and there was no way of redeeming the date thereafter. They both decided to walk instead of taking a cab just to release the pressure. Without acknowledging each other’s presence, they kept walking. Soon, she got tired and took a cab and asked him to get in, to which he behaved like a child and said, ‘You called it. You get in.’ she was pissed and asked the cabbie to go ahead. Once at Kabatas, the tram station, she missed him dearly. For the next twenty minutes, he was nowhere to be seen and the tram station fellow kept coming to her and asking her which tram was she waiting for. It was close to 12 and tears were stinging her eyes. A cab stopped in front of her and an Indian boy came out of it, took one look at her and asked her if she wanted to be dropped somewhere. She refused and turned the other way.
The tram guy closed the system and told her the last ride was over and said a sympathetic bye to her. Suddenly, from afar, she saw him walking towards her, looking tired and completely put out. Rushing to him, she asked if he had walked all the way. He nodded, called a cab and they got in. she cried silently while he looked the other way, asking the cabbie for extra bills. Once inside the hotel, she saw the same Indian guy from that night, who had one look at both their faces, and gave her a sympathetic smile. Forget sympathy, she could do with some vodka right now. Inside the room, the travel and the heart ache gave way to sleep soon enough.
Early morning, she woke up, way calmer than the previous night. He had already left for his meetings, so she went to the washroom, sat on the pot, and started to think. How could they manage a fight in the most beautiful city in the world? How could they not keep their short tempers in check for one little exotic week? How is it love if they cant trust each other and do things that hurt, simply on an impulse? And most importantly, how were they supposed to get past this and enjoy two more days of the vacation? She turned her head towards the wash basin and was caught by surprise. There was a cardboard sheet, torn from the box of khaakras she had got from home. The sheet had a pen drawing of a round face with hair and 3 tears each coming from both his eyes. It said SORRY underneath that. It was hard to believe and too cute to not melt. Clutching it close to her heart, she laughed and then cried at the madness of it all.
He had woken up, felt bad and had taken the pains to tear a piece out of a box to make that hideous drawing and write what he couldn’t manage to say the entire night. There are certain things about love, the most important one being that it isn’t extraordinary. It is simple, right there in front of you. In little things, it can trigger. You don’t have to be a talker, you can be the shy kinds and still have your place under the sun. a vacation doesn’t have to be perfect, it can find perfection in your fights and then, in your Sorrys’. There is no sure shot way to tell what keeps you happy. A banana slice in your waffle can spoil your evening and a little boy cartoon saying sorry can make things alrite again. It is that ordinarily extraordinary. Believe you me.
The argument got bitter and accusations were thrown which would look hilarious on a good day. Making jokes on how he ate bananas in fixed hours of the day and hated them on others got out of hand and the date was abruptly over. From fruits, they moved on to the nagging issues of life like place, culture etc and there was no way of redeeming the date thereafter. They both decided to walk instead of taking a cab just to release the pressure. Without acknowledging each other’s presence, they kept walking. Soon, she got tired and took a cab and asked him to get in, to which he behaved like a child and said, ‘You called it. You get in.’ she was pissed and asked the cabbie to go ahead. Once at Kabatas, the tram station, she missed him dearly. For the next twenty minutes, he was nowhere to be seen and the tram station fellow kept coming to her and asking her which tram was she waiting for. It was close to 12 and tears were stinging her eyes. A cab stopped in front of her and an Indian boy came out of it, took one look at her and asked her if she wanted to be dropped somewhere. She refused and turned the other way.
The tram guy closed the system and told her the last ride was over and said a sympathetic bye to her. Suddenly, from afar, she saw him walking towards her, looking tired and completely put out. Rushing to him, she asked if he had walked all the way. He nodded, called a cab and they got in. she cried silently while he looked the other way, asking the cabbie for extra bills. Once inside the hotel, she saw the same Indian guy from that night, who had one look at both their faces, and gave her a sympathetic smile. Forget sympathy, she could do with some vodka right now. Inside the room, the travel and the heart ache gave way to sleep soon enough.
Early morning, she woke up, way calmer than the previous night. He had already left for his meetings, so she went to the washroom, sat on the pot, and started to think. How could they manage a fight in the most beautiful city in the world? How could they not keep their short tempers in check for one little exotic week? How is it love if they cant trust each other and do things that hurt, simply on an impulse? And most importantly, how were they supposed to get past this and enjoy two more days of the vacation? She turned her head towards the wash basin and was caught by surprise. There was a cardboard sheet, torn from the box of khaakras she had got from home. The sheet had a pen drawing of a round face with hair and 3 tears each coming from both his eyes. It said SORRY underneath that. It was hard to believe and too cute to not melt. Clutching it close to her heart, she laughed and then cried at the madness of it all.
He had woken up, felt bad and had taken the pains to tear a piece out of a box to make that hideous drawing and write what he couldn’t manage to say the entire night. There are certain things about love, the most important one being that it isn’t extraordinary. It is simple, right there in front of you. In little things, it can trigger. You don’t have to be a talker, you can be the shy kinds and still have your place under the sun. a vacation doesn’t have to be perfect, it can find perfection in your fights and then, in your Sorrys’. There is no sure shot way to tell what keeps you happy. A banana slice in your waffle can spoil your evening and a little boy cartoon saying sorry can make things alrite again. It is that ordinarily extraordinary. Believe you me.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
windy waffle love-1
It was yet another super windy day at Istanbul. But that had not deterred her from exploring and loving. Being more sensitive to cold than most people she knew, she struggled with the cold winds that thrashed the only part they could get, the face. Nonetheless, she braved it the whole day and had a dekko at the famous Topkapi palace, the best archaeology museum in the world and the creepy Basilica cistern, and by this time, it was raining too. Coming to Istanbul on a December week would not be great travel advice, but seeing the city when no one else has a beauty of its own.
Tired from the excursion, she warmed her feet by the heater and watched some more random language music on Viva TV and waited for him to get back. Tonight’s plan was to head to Ortakoy, a north western pretty village which boasts of a lovely pier. He came back and together they took the tram to Kabatas and then a bus to Ortakoy.
The village was scenic to say the least. Walking, not hand in hand but laughing and talking about the simplest things in life, the two lovers enjoyed each second of the windy night. She squealed at the sight of Gloria Jeans’ coffee shop but had a hookah from the local shop instead. He fell in love with the sea side coffee shop and pledged to come back, no matter how full he was after dinner.
A heady meal later, they walked towards the sea side coffee parlour but now they weren’t very sure about that last cup of tea. Maybe they couldn’t have it after all that food they had. His heart won over his head finally and they did sit right next to the splashing waves and had a typically strong Turkish cup of tea in the surreal coffee shop. She was ecstatic because yet another cat of the city had warmed and cosied up to her, much to the frustration of the burqa clad women and their men right behind their table who had tried to win its affection for a while now. There was a Jack Black look alike who preferred to stare at her rather than in his coffee cup. They made jokes in hindi and tons of photos and crazy winds later, she decided to go to the lane that was selling her favourite, waffles.
That was the beginning of the typical end to a happy date between these two.
Tired from the excursion, she warmed her feet by the heater and watched some more random language music on Viva TV and waited for him to get back. Tonight’s plan was to head to Ortakoy, a north western pretty village which boasts of a lovely pier. He came back and together they took the tram to Kabatas and then a bus to Ortakoy.
The village was scenic to say the least. Walking, not hand in hand but laughing and talking about the simplest things in life, the two lovers enjoyed each second of the windy night. She squealed at the sight of Gloria Jeans’ coffee shop but had a hookah from the local shop instead. He fell in love with the sea side coffee shop and pledged to come back, no matter how full he was after dinner.
A heady meal later, they walked towards the sea side coffee parlour but now they weren’t very sure about that last cup of tea. Maybe they couldn’t have it after all that food they had. His heart won over his head finally and they did sit right next to the splashing waves and had a typically strong Turkish cup of tea in the surreal coffee shop. She was ecstatic because yet another cat of the city had warmed and cosied up to her, much to the frustration of the burqa clad women and their men right behind their table who had tried to win its affection for a while now. There was a Jack Black look alike who preferred to stare at her rather than in his coffee cup. They made jokes in hindi and tons of photos and crazy winds later, she decided to go to the lane that was selling her favourite, waffles.
That was the beginning of the typical end to a happy date between these two.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Everyone is okay really.
I dont expect you to understand a single word I say. I dont because I know every person is selfish. Every person wants the best for himself, even at the cost of what is important. It is ok if you dont think about me when protecting your interests.
I am ok if you pretend to not be able to hear me. I know you can hear me, and I know you understand. Its just that saying it loud will hurt you. So you let me be.
I forgive you.
I dont need to sleep with someone, I just need to sleep.
I am ok if you pretend to not be able to hear me. I know you can hear me, and I know you understand. Its just that saying it loud will hurt you. So you let me be.
I forgive you.
I dont need to sleep with someone, I just need to sleep.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
not cool
Today, I appealed to someone's darker side, and I now feel horrible about it.
I have always had a thing for speed, races etc, and today, my huge office cab (Xylo) was speeding its way to work. An Esteem or a Honda City (I think) came and tried to take our lane on the extreme right of the road. As a result of which, we had to put our brakes a little. The car went ahead after that.
I just smiled and suggested to our driver that maybe we should go scare him a little. Now, my driver is already a Jat and a very rash driver. He leapt onto my wicked suggestion and sped ahead. When he came close to that fated car, for a second or three, he went so close that we felt he would bump it to say the least. The guy who was inside the car was smoking and chilling in general and he suddenly realised what was happening and lost his nerves. He looked scared and didn't look like he could give the right responses. Our driver moved away in a few seconds, leaving the car on its own to come back on track. Luckily, there were no other cars in the vicinity so nothing major happened except the guy losing it.
Our driver looked at me from the mirror and smiled. I don't know why but I felt completely responsible for it.It was like I let him do something evil and actually egged him to do it, lured him. Felt shitty once the streak in me started to fade.
I blame Black Swan for this.
I have always had a thing for speed, races etc, and today, my huge office cab (Xylo) was speeding its way to work. An Esteem or a Honda City (I think) came and tried to take our lane on the extreme right of the road. As a result of which, we had to put our brakes a little. The car went ahead after that.
I just smiled and suggested to our driver that maybe we should go scare him a little. Now, my driver is already a Jat and a very rash driver. He leapt onto my wicked suggestion and sped ahead. When he came close to that fated car, for a second or three, he went so close that we felt he would bump it to say the least. The guy who was inside the car was smoking and chilling in general and he suddenly realised what was happening and lost his nerves. He looked scared and didn't look like he could give the right responses. Our driver moved away in a few seconds, leaving the car on its own to come back on track. Luckily, there were no other cars in the vicinity so nothing major happened except the guy losing it.
Our driver looked at me from the mirror and smiled. I don't know why but I felt completely responsible for it.It was like I let him do something evil and actually egged him to do it, lured him. Felt shitty once the streak in me started to fade.
I blame Black Swan for this.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Khub douracho
I had decided I will write plenty today. But I am strangely missing my train of thought right now. Absolutely don’t remember what it was I wanted to talk about.
Basically, more than a month has passed and I am hardly there. I know big plans await me (it’s a belief, its not based on facts) but I seem to have slowed down. More and more people have started counting on me, I feel they consider me as an adult now. Gulp.
Cousin T has changed boyfriends in a matter of a month and she expects me (out of the entire family) to understand. I, ofcourse understand how this heart works and how soon it changes it mind. Her ex was a workaholic and the new one is way more interesting, I think the young one needs a little fun right now, not stability from a professionally successful guy. I am with her on this, and am trying my best to be a cool Dee, so that the kiddo has atleast one person to confide in. You don’t need the teenagers to go completely quite these days, no?
The colleague with whom I go to work in the mornings lately isn’t a friend yet and I don’t think I will make him one. He is a strange mix of no-nonsense and yet funny. He is a tough taskmaster at work and people are a little wary of him. Hasn’t got married and don’t think he will. But in those 40 minutes, he shares. Tells me to rest, take a sabbatical and heal myself. He also lets me know what he feels about the traffic, the plastic munching cows and dogs, doctors and even his frustration at his work and seniors. So I understand this crab and yet not. I am still trying to.
On another note, was told by Him that everybody keeps asking for me and apparently, I am a hit amongst his friends. Well, if I had to deduce how I managed to score that much, I would say am a natural (not modest I know) and it doesn’t take much, I am easy on the eyes for most.
Mom has become a friend. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that our time is measured, or because things in the family are ever changing and this is the current wave. But nowadays, I explore the city with her. It keeps her happy and makes her feel I have time for her in between my very butterfly like social life.
The physio lady tells me the other day, “Khub douracho, tai eto koshto pacho. But thamleo je tumi khushi hobena. Ki je chao..”
Even I couldn’t have summed it so perfectly.
Basically, more than a month has passed and I am hardly there. I know big plans await me (it’s a belief, its not based on facts) but I seem to have slowed down. More and more people have started counting on me, I feel they consider me as an adult now. Gulp.
Cousin T has changed boyfriends in a matter of a month and she expects me (out of the entire family) to understand. I, ofcourse understand how this heart works and how soon it changes it mind. Her ex was a workaholic and the new one is way more interesting, I think the young one needs a little fun right now, not stability from a professionally successful guy. I am with her on this, and am trying my best to be a cool Dee, so that the kiddo has atleast one person to confide in. You don’t need the teenagers to go completely quite these days, no?
The colleague with whom I go to work in the mornings lately isn’t a friend yet and I don’t think I will make him one. He is a strange mix of no-nonsense and yet funny. He is a tough taskmaster at work and people are a little wary of him. Hasn’t got married and don’t think he will. But in those 40 minutes, he shares. Tells me to rest, take a sabbatical and heal myself. He also lets me know what he feels about the traffic, the plastic munching cows and dogs, doctors and even his frustration at his work and seniors. So I understand this crab and yet not. I am still trying to.
On another note, was told by Him that everybody keeps asking for me and apparently, I am a hit amongst his friends. Well, if I had to deduce how I managed to score that much, I would say am a natural (not modest I know) and it doesn’t take much, I am easy on the eyes for most.
Mom has become a friend. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that our time is measured, or because things in the family are ever changing and this is the current wave. But nowadays, I explore the city with her. It keeps her happy and makes her feel I have time for her in between my very butterfly like social life.
The physio lady tells me the other day, “Khub douracho, tai eto koshto pacho. But thamleo je tumi khushi hobena. Ki je chao..”
Even I couldn’t have summed it so perfectly.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
atonement
It rains from deep in the night till morning, there is a silence within, life feels abrupt. Almost like art cinema, feel the tug at the seams nowadays. Everything is a blur, I multi-task and nothing makes sense. Dont remember the last time I was out the whole day, not looking at my watch, not worrying about getting back home, not thinking about getting better or sick, not thinking how he or she would take it if I could make it or could not.
This week, it is. Closure, there is none. But thats okay, life has never been clinical as far as matters of the heart are concerned.
I will survive, am almost happy. Hope its the same for you.
Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.
-Dirty Dancing
This week, it is. Closure, there is none. But thats okay, life has never been clinical as far as matters of the heart are concerned.
I will survive, am almost happy. Hope its the same for you.
Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.
-Dirty Dancing
Monday, August 30, 2010
i get it. i always did.
there were two things that she held dear, the way she loved her long black hair, and the way she felt nothing when she cut them off.
-500 days of Summer
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Getting to me!
It's been a while since I have been feeling this way. Of course, it relates to things real and fictional. There is never a sure way to know. There are times when the feeling overpowers me, it tells me this way is better, but then, there is always the pull. The stronger, sharper and the more amazing pull. The other one, the temporary fixation, looks more real, but so does everything that comes with a temptation. But what is the temptation here?
Just a familiarity that comes from the language? Is that enough? All things glitter from a distance, and one should be a fool to think that would last forever. There are too many insecurities in this one human life, too many options, the platter is always too full (am I the only one complaining?) mostly you have no peace. Nowhere, ever. And maybe that is the part that makes you feel alive, wanted and there in the middle of everything. You want to be there, to feel the air on your face, to be the life of the party, accept it, you do.
But its all fleeting.
Two similar moments and this is what you know. The purity of emotions in one case is so strong and yet so subtle. Decades it was there, and yet you never felt its force.
In the second case, its recent, its new, its equally helpless and yet, its mocking in a manner that confuses you and questions your reality. Is it right or am I going all wrong?
Long life, will know soon.
Just a familiarity that comes from the language? Is that enough? All things glitter from a distance, and one should be a fool to think that would last forever. There are too many insecurities in this one human life, too many options, the platter is always too full (am I the only one complaining?) mostly you have no peace. Nowhere, ever. And maybe that is the part that makes you feel alive, wanted and there in the middle of everything. You want to be there, to feel the air on your face, to be the life of the party, accept it, you do.
But its all fleeting.
Two similar moments and this is what you know. The purity of emotions in one case is so strong and yet so subtle. Decades it was there, and yet you never felt its force.
In the second case, its recent, its new, its equally helpless and yet, its mocking in a manner that confuses you and questions your reality. Is it right or am I going all wrong?
Long life, will know soon.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Human spirit in all its glory!
A lot of good things have happened over the few months and I am smiling. However, with all the good things in life, also come the retrospective things. Those which remind you of who you are, of what things could be, of how one should be.
My didi had a baby this month and is staying with us. So it became important that my pet Gucci left for some other place for the time being. We couldn’t find many takers because Gucci isn’t keeping well and needs medicines twice a day. The kennels are freaking expensive, to say nothing of the fact that I will be shit worried keeping him with a bunch of strangers.
So yeah, after seeing our plight, our house help came to the rescue. She loves Gucci and volunteered to keep him for a few months at her own place. She lives in Govindpuri (theres a cool little jhuggi down there) and I asked her if I could come see him sometimes. She happily agreed.
Yesterday, I was told Gucci refused to eat twice and my alarm went off. In the evening I rushed with my maid to her place, only to be told that while she was at our place, she kept Gucci at her mamaji’s house, which was only two doors away. So we crept up in thin alleys, crossed open drains, walked over two cats’ tails due to the darkness and finally leapt up a steep set of stairs where she knocked on a small chipped green door. And Gucci’s barks bellowed from inside. After two minutes, a much hassled mamiji opened the door and the sight my eyes met with, is probably life changing.
The room was as big as a Maruti 800 car’s interiors. More than half of the room had a high wooden bed that had a lot of space under it. That is where they kept all their clothes, utensils, paper, odd objects etc. Next to the door was a small gas, and in one of the gas corners, Gucci’s leash was tied. On the bed sat a tall lanky boy and a tall girl, the kids of the family I am guessing.
It was amazing. There lived four people inside this mousehole. And they cared enough to take a dog with them! To feed him, to give him medicines, to take care of him the whole day. If Gucci went wild with happiness, he could rip that room apart in just five seconds. And yet, this family laughed, told me tales about what Gucci was upto lately and also made a sad face when I told them I will take him home by the end of the year.
I had gone to meet Gucci cursing my luck for keeping him apart, for having to entrust him on people who are, least said, not doing so well themselves. And if I may add, I was upset for having to keep him at my maid’s place.
But all that vanished when I left that place. I was instead overcome by how great the human spirit can be, if the heart is in the right place. I realized Gucci couldn’t have been more loved than this. A family low on rice and roti was sharing theirs with him. Ofcourse I gave some money to them for his weekly kharcha, but that didn’t add an ich to what they were doing for me in return.
I sort of sat in between, very close to everything that was on the floor including the kids who were now standing instead of being on the bed. I cuddled Gucci for a while and they looked very anxiously at me for a reaction. I only gave them grateful smiles. Because they deserved that. And God knows, so much more than that.
My didi had a baby this month and is staying with us. So it became important that my pet Gucci left for some other place for the time being. We couldn’t find many takers because Gucci isn’t keeping well and needs medicines twice a day. The kennels are freaking expensive, to say nothing of the fact that I will be shit worried keeping him with a bunch of strangers.
So yeah, after seeing our plight, our house help came to the rescue. She loves Gucci and volunteered to keep him for a few months at her own place. She lives in Govindpuri (theres a cool little jhuggi down there) and I asked her if I could come see him sometimes. She happily agreed.
Yesterday, I was told Gucci refused to eat twice and my alarm went off. In the evening I rushed with my maid to her place, only to be told that while she was at our place, she kept Gucci at her mamaji’s house, which was only two doors away. So we crept up in thin alleys, crossed open drains, walked over two cats’ tails due to the darkness and finally leapt up a steep set of stairs where she knocked on a small chipped green door. And Gucci’s barks bellowed from inside. After two minutes, a much hassled mamiji opened the door and the sight my eyes met with, is probably life changing.
The room was as big as a Maruti 800 car’s interiors. More than half of the room had a high wooden bed that had a lot of space under it. That is where they kept all their clothes, utensils, paper, odd objects etc. Next to the door was a small gas, and in one of the gas corners, Gucci’s leash was tied. On the bed sat a tall lanky boy and a tall girl, the kids of the family I am guessing.
It was amazing. There lived four people inside this mousehole. And they cared enough to take a dog with them! To feed him, to give him medicines, to take care of him the whole day. If Gucci went wild with happiness, he could rip that room apart in just five seconds. And yet, this family laughed, told me tales about what Gucci was upto lately and also made a sad face when I told them I will take him home by the end of the year.
I had gone to meet Gucci cursing my luck for keeping him apart, for having to entrust him on people who are, least said, not doing so well themselves. And if I may add, I was upset for having to keep him at my maid’s place.
But all that vanished when I left that place. I was instead overcome by how great the human spirit can be, if the heart is in the right place. I realized Gucci couldn’t have been more loved than this. A family low on rice and roti was sharing theirs with him. Ofcourse I gave some money to them for his weekly kharcha, but that didn’t add an ich to what they were doing for me in return.
I sort of sat in between, very close to everything that was on the floor including the kids who were now standing instead of being on the bed. I cuddled Gucci for a while and they looked very anxiously at me for a reaction. I only gave them grateful smiles. Because they deserved that. And God knows, so much more than that.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
A day to celebrate!
Feeling a sense of calmness and peace. Dont know why, but I guess it must have something to do with the fact that after an entire year, things look what they are..So much has been, that it is hard to believe such a day has come..
Of all things, have completed one year of writing a blog with fellow buddies, who are not always nearby..It has been difficult, but we have managed..I know we border on sarcasm and pure fun on most days, but that's what we are..And behind all that fun, we know where we stand in life, in each other's lives..Gives a lot of Hope, knowing you have friends..
A special thank you hug to Sriparna, a geeky 'pretty' frand in my life..Thanks for expressing 'purple coloured glasses' in a way I could have never etched in life..for being so different, and yet being so much in sync..to you!
The Harry Potter series have completed another movie, and with one more book to adapt, they will come to an end..sigh..First, I was waiting for the books, when they got over, I waited for the movies, and now they are coming to a close too...Does my childhood come to a closure with this? I dread the answers..
Life is like this, very slowly, the good parts come to an end..sometimes not that slowly though..and the bad parts, well, they come to an end too, just that they seem larger than life..or so it has been with me..
But am not complaining, am at peace, am just...discussing I guess..
Song am listening to right now: Hosh bekhabar se hue unke bagair..Wo jo humse keh na sake, dil ne keh diya...
Of all things, have completed one year of writing a blog with fellow buddies, who are not always nearby..It has been difficult, but we have managed..I know we border on sarcasm and pure fun on most days, but that's what we are..And behind all that fun, we know where we stand in life, in each other's lives..Gives a lot of Hope, knowing you have friends..
A special thank you hug to Sriparna, a geeky 'pretty' frand in my life..Thanks for expressing 'purple coloured glasses' in a way I could have never etched in life..for being so different, and yet being so much in sync..to you!
The Harry Potter series have completed another movie, and with one more book to adapt, they will come to an end..sigh..First, I was waiting for the books, when they got over, I waited for the movies, and now they are coming to a close too...Does my childhood come to a closure with this? I dread the answers..
Life is like this, very slowly, the good parts come to an end..sometimes not that slowly though..and the bad parts, well, they come to an end too, just that they seem larger than life..or so it has been with me..
But am not complaining, am at peace, am just...discussing I guess..
Song am listening to right now: Hosh bekhabar se hue unke bagair..Wo jo humse keh na sake, dil ne keh diya...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A letter to the Vodka God!
Dear Mr. Smirnoff,
I am writing this letter to you after deep thought (and after feeling steadier since all that merry making). In the past, there have been other moments when I have thought of communicating all these things I feel with you, but at no time has the urge been so very much.
Actually, the main reason I wanted to write to you was for congratulating you for making such a wonderful thing as your branded vodka. I need to tell you that other than love, vodka is the only other thing that makes me feel this way. There are a few things I have realized while partying last Saturday with some of my friends and your fine drinks.
Yes, a dazzling, glazed effect takes place. Without an effort, I can tell the jerk he is a jerk and tell the cute guy that he is cute. Also, a slur develops, hence no words come out as words. They are all songs. I can sing, ‘I want to eeeeeat now..’ and everyone scampers to get the poor damsel a plate.
The mechanics of the body do not remain linear. Cant walk straight for the life of me. However, walking haphazard is fun too. You can dance with everyone because you cant stay in one place too long! Just that I hate the part when I ride on someone’s foot or vice versa!
There is this happiness. I don’t know where it comes from. It possibly couldn’t be because of things happening in my life because they are, well, just too real, if you know what I mean..So this happiness is almost surreal, out of the world. I even smile at people I hate..
The foodie even forgets about food…I can stay for long hours without eating, just keep bringing the drinks..
You even cry..You tend to get over emotional and cry when you try to speak of things that hold meaning in your life…You cry for friendships lost, you cry for love lost, you basically cry for everything remotely hurting you…
When I get back home, I feel like having gallons of water, I feel totally parched and rummaging through the fridge for cold water only makes my parents more suspicious..They wonder if the swagger and the thirst for plain water add up to something fishy..But I tell them clearly, ‘I am not drunk if that’s what you are thinking Dad!’
Sleepless nights. I just don’t seem to get a good sleep thereafter, the night becomes one big cassette that keeps rewinding and forwarding the entire time I was partying and being merry. Who said you sleep like a log when you are drunk??
Hunger strikes around 3am on an average. And on that given moment, I can get up and look for food even without my glasses! Talk about superpowers! So ya, Mr. Smirnoff, your drink is almost like amrit in this regard…However, cant get the right food or eat, as my folks (esp my imsomniac Ma) will find it just a wee bit suspicious..again.
The next day is what you call a ‘passing phase’…this day was created so that people like us can get back to their two feet, and start feeling worthy of doing other things like watching TV, sharing normal conversations with the family etc..This day is best suited to be a Sunday…Also, friends start calling, from the noon time though, to tell you things you did last night, to share the humiliation with you..You feel no shame with these friends, cos they are in it with you…
In all, Mr.Smirnoff, life is a whole deal better for the beverage you produce. If it wasn’t for vodka, we would just be slaves working in huge companies and living lives of the plainest kinds..You bring forth our animality and creativity, which stay subdued otherwise…I thank you, and I promise you to carry on with the tradition of livening things up everytime I am in the company of like minded friends and your fine vodka.
Love,
High spirited girl :)
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