Spunky at 30

Spoke to Miss Gorgeous at 40 yesterday.

Who she? An person i met on work who quickly became a friend, confidant, a confider and a hilarious pit stop for stories. Todays blog post is dedicated to the movement of her life, which for the now is getting the most points for the drama than anyone else's life that I know about ;-)

A member of  bhuddist group she leads and counsels the people in her near vicinity in matters dealing with their practice and faith. One such struggling member happened to be a spunky 29 year old, who was struggling with more than faith.. was reveling in his utmost attraction for her.

Shyness be dammed he made sure she knew it too. In full force, flowers, dinners, movies, drinks the invites flew like arrows and no matter how much tact she used, the man was not one to be dettered. 

This is not an isolated case, a 20- something from her gym took the chance and asked her out, 2-3 other suitors expressed interest too..all this in a span of maybe 2 months. 

Made us think of the fact that there is a change that is taking place in the approach towards relationships. While the traditional .. meet, greet, marry and then get to know each other remains the std operating principle, in small factions and pockets there is a revolt. The people are meeting, greeting.. remaining in this limbo for a long while without necessarily looking at everything having a tommorow. 

For sure the need for a future is critical for a relationship. else there is not much to build a foundation on; but then again not everything need be a relationship that implies longevity in the looong run to take place! So amen to the new generation kids, who are being who they are, questioning what is allowed and what isnt to craft things that make sense to them....

So how old would your threshold be for the person that you are willing to ask out.. ..? stuck to ur decade are u?

bubbleless blondie

Yesterday was a very disturbing day. My bubble was pricked and poked until it resembled a deflated balloon, that still is floating listlessly on the ceiling, not yet ready to surrender to gravity and not energized enough to soar into the skies. Reality comes and bites. Always. Bitch.

Spoke a lot  to Mr. X who has just broken up, compelled me to think of what and how we choose a mate. 

Without sounding cocky, I consider myself to be a modern women wanting the stability of a long term relationship (am staying away from the term marriage as it gets too many additional colourings), who has a hosts of varied interest, has managed to make a life choices that permit her a flexibility, financial well being and yet not be trapped in the corporate routine. Genetically restless and explorative ensures there are a host of things that one wants to experience and do. 

The above is a HUGE PROBLEM!  

Reasons. When it comes to choosing some one to be that long term partner the check list people like us, read as unconventional people create is mind boggling. 

Checklist item one----- Personality match. 

The person must be interesting, witty, core being a a good person, gentle yet aggressive, go getter, achiever and passionate about living a full life. The last one gets detailed into. 

(i) wanting more from life than money and security

(ii) curiosity about exploring the unknown

(iii) drive to make his/her dreams come true

Checklist item 2--- Practical issues

The basics to be considered here are, financial well being, attitude towards life, family background, success got or not, education, culture and the differences, food, music, travelling styles. the HOW the person wants to live life. 

So if his idea of a good day, is work and then a beer and thats perfect and yours is work, walk, no beer, conversation, a late night drive, then there is a problem. How are you keen to spend your time.

Checklist 3.-- Interests and Work

What defines you are these that you choose. As you enter a persons house the "who they are" should yell out from the walls. their space reflects what you are stepping into. What you choose to inculcate as hobbies, if any at all tells the other, about what drives you. 

The work the person does, is the next indicator. Because that is where they shall spend 76% of their time and it rubs of on what they think of, the people they are surrounded with and the attitude, conversation, wit that comes up. ....... Not to mention the impact on the social circle u belong to. And Friends and Family define us much more than we care to admit. 

Phew. this is the checklist. That we never physically carry but are constantly tallying people against. 

Over the past few weeks there has been something new brewing. The candy floss land was beautiful, but the subconscious mind more wary than the monkey brain.  With each interaction, the crafty sub-conscious would pick up a nugget of data and store it in the belly. 

small things, the way you order the waiter in the resteraunt, how to address the cook, what do you do in stressful scenes, how is your house done up, what do u want to do on the weekend. Tiny snippets were taken and filed against the cluttered checklist that exists there. 

Mulling over the list, the gut then gives me an answer. The mind and heart refuse to accept it and the tussle begins. You see the silly sub fellow is driven by perfection and forgets that finding someone who can be at a point of time

Your friend, your lover, your partner, your inspiration to live and drive u to succeed, your companion, your hobby does, your fitness guru, your spiritual founder is impossible.

Because deep down the gut believes everything is possible. 

I know some people have a very different take on relationships. KR a pal in Chennai looking for an arranged marriage said - it does not matter, there are issues with whoever u marry so as long as the person is not mentally challenged its fine. hmmm well i wish i had that simplicity. 

The unconventional people seem to carry mini helicopters and an uncanny ability to tie urself up in knots. But really which of these criteria's do you drop? Which one do you then kick your self 10 years down the line for knowing but choosing to label it as "imperfections"?

Having said all that, if you are in love! Deep Deep sweeping love, the above checklist gets swept out of the window and you have only retarded smiles. The list creeps back, little by little with time, but atleast by then your decision has already been made. 

For now. reality is an unwelcome visitor

Bubble less Blondie

Scream theraphy

Bounty Hunter. Jeniffer and Gerald Butler. Shall not even try to pretend that it is a good movie, it is not, is kidna confused between wanting to do the Mr and Mrs Smith kinda chase based friction movie and/or keep it sweet and go down the Hugh Grant genre way. Like all things in the middle, it moves in neither direction and you find the yawns coming on, even as they squabble for the 10th time.

But for all the crap that the movie amounts to there are some things that are universal.

Bull Fights. - In relationships. The ability to stop freaking pussy footing around the other person and really be mean and vindictive, think we all feel that but are too polite. A stab wound once in a while, some blood shedding shall let a lot of the GRRRRRRR out

Drama - Fucking hell to be in a short intense drama, and u are set with stories for a bit of time, the chase, the thrill the living on the edge is what every relationship needs. Clears the air. Sadly usually it comes with heart attacks.

Anger- Healthy ones. Where u slam doors, scratch, get mini violent, yell. Saw a lady on the road yesterday yelling her guts out and targetting this hapless man who just sat mute on the road. Freaking Liberating. Takes me for ever to just let it rip out. Love the guys who can just perfect the yelling like how..

Knowing someone inside out. --- There is this scene when he knows her tears are a sham, or when they are not. The beauty of a relationship is always in those freaking small things, knowing that the twitch of the nose means that he is very very tense, that the hair on finger means temper god has landed,  wordless conversation is what makes it special.

Am done with mills and boon saga for the day. Work beckons. Work is getting interesting too... must to write more about that just to prove that there is a brain that the head has been beckoned with

On the mention of head.. the stitches seem to be finally taking a looong walk, to kingdom come! Finally. i say am missing the gym and rain walks of all things to miss in life! Get a grip

have urs?

Riddle. 

No woman can have enough of these. Every girl has at least one of these. Nothing can ever replace these and they usually come with a life long guarantee clause. Often subjected to abuse,  neglect and abandonment, they are still usable needing only a shaking down and some gentle prodding to pull back into shape. Never easy to be around, annoyingly accurate and irritatingly supportive these are non purchasable and non trade-able. 

These are those freaking things called Girl friends. and in my life, some men are my best girl friends. Can we bury the no man can just be a friend argument already? Have more than enough man girl friends and no its a compliment not an insult. 

It takes a special kind of relationship where u can be ur grouchiest best and the person still does not want to abandon you at the closest dust bin. And man was i in a lousy mood that morning. 

First of all it was hot. Sunny blazing hot. In that disgustingly hot day, i had to visit not one but 2 doctors, my head hurt, was sleepy and morose, M was nowhere close to returning, my stitches were threatening to split my scalp open and the email not working.. aarrggghh! and just as i was leaving home the CENSUS people showed up wanting to know my caste, dads name, marital status.. ...... y y cant these questions change? 

And then, and I know the moment I write about the next episode, I shall come across sounding like the super bitch of the century but what is IS. So after that incredible start to the morning, I get into the red Tata and am about to leave the house, when the guard informs me that no matter what I cant leave for another hour.

Confused look means that he leads me to the narrow lane that marks the exit from the building where a ambulance is standing like a resolute bull refusing to budge. Reason, someone in my lane passed away a few days ago and the last rites were taking place in the house courtyard. Once they were over, they were to going to load the ambulance and move.

Right, I get the criticality of the moment, I appreciate the fact that it is not the easiest situation, but I also don’t get the assumption that it is completely allright to stop everyones elses life and get away with FEELING SUPERIOR at continuing with the non accommodative behaviour.

For 45 minutes, I stood on the lane, with the red tata sending more than subtle hints to the complete disdain of any motion. To make it worse 2 ppl came and told my guard to get me on a Good Behaviour Leash as this was a society moment of grief!

Ok whatever, its not about this exact moment but the assumption that collective need is morally entitled to overcome individual wants. Mr. Coffee my Delhi best friend for 5 consecutive weekends was driven out of his house, by the compulsive need of his neighbours to have something called a JAGRAN through out the night, where because u invoke the gods you are permitted to blast the loudspeaker till the sun peeks through …but remove DEAR GOD and have Pink Floyd blasting and rest assured the next morning a letter to vacate shall accompany ur newspaper.

You name it. Durga Pooja – Stopping roads allowed. Ganesh Chaturthi- Allowed. Janmasthmi procession allowed. Sitting on the side walk at 11.00 pm talking to GR on the park bench, in tones that the ant sitting next to us could not catch; NOT ALLOWED. Because its indecent for a man and a women to be out alone at that hour. May not be the best comparison but it speaks of a prejudice that does exist.

So by now steaming like a kettle I drive cross country to N’s place. Yelling at fellow cars, honking every 3 minutes am the epitome of bad female cussed driving. Reach her place, barely hug her before launching myself on the bed, gracing the pillow and refusing to move till my head cooled down.

Feeling dizzy, I help myself to food while she potters with the internet connection fixing thing. Eat my fill play with the pet and feel a semblance of calm return.

Know u are good friends indication 1

·         You feel no hesitation in opening the fridge door and prodding the contents to see what you like. Finding nothing appealing u feel no hesitation in fixing ur self a snack.

N dragged me out. Accompanied me to doctor one, yelled at my stupid attitude towards my health in general, did not rat about me to the doctor even though she was dying to. Without complaining, let me remain the lousiest grouch as I went and cussed at the Emergency Room attendant when he refused to remove my STITCHES and all the babies began laughing at me.. all she did was take my hand get me painkillers head to the air-conditioned café coffee day and let me slouch till the coffee did its trick.

Know u are good friends indication 2

·         When you know how to just take control of the situation and do so without being asked

And then the best time awaited us. We headed upstairs to the pampered land called Salons. The sweetest man hair dresser, who had cut his finger just recently during a bike accident had empathy. He saw me and knew that salvation lay in a shampoo.

Magic hands and thoughtfulness meant he did whatever it took to get me out of my misery. Half standing, bent over, in the most embarrassing posture ever the grime of the accident was rinsed, leaving me lighter than ever before.

N just stood there taking idiotic pics with her phone, before we sat like 2 princesses and got the full treatment. Manicure, Pedicure, Massage were all permitted because we sat and yapped nonstop about men, dogs, bosses, others, non-others and cackled about the hideous nail paints we could get.

The level of conversation was so juvenile that this women next to us enquired which college we went to. We decided then and there to write in to Santoor! So what if she said so because of our lame conversation and nothing to do with our looks!

Know u are good friends indication 3

·         Spending an afternoon lazying together does not need a pre-planned agenda

As the rains came we chatted on about the unknown tomorrows that faced us. And she was more excited than me about my life, more nervous, probably more cautious. But knew that letting me be was all she could do.. and did.

Drove back home non sulking and non anxious.

Warm and content like a cat that has spent hours before a fireplace, being stroked to sleep

To each of my girlfriends, lets have more afternoon like these! 

home sweet home

Am sitting on my bed, listening to an ancient song of Lucky Ali, plonked on my belly with the blog post being the only thing that I am willing to give any attention. This feels good a feeling of coming home to where I belong.


Had a fantafabulous weekend with lots of action, people, conversations, newness, oldness, lazy massages and doctors, warm sleep the kind that fills ur bones with relaxation were the main flavours of past few hours. No matter how endearing the encounters there is nothing better than returning to your own space. Your silence in a way.


Strangely feel that way about this writing also. Miss it if I dont write, because there is just so much that happens every 24 hours that not recording it daily makes it seem jaded and old. Anyway! so stop the drivel and lets get down to some serious gossiping. n there is a lot of that!


So FIRST UP-- Blondie is growing up. I cannot believe that it is happening but it is.


SIGN 1 -  Have a retarded smile that comes and goes without fail every minute


SIGN 2-   Reasonably yummy man sent me a mail asking me if he could come and crash with me for a week. The universe really wanted to test me because this fellow n me had so much in common. He was into Reiki, n EFT, n gymming, n pscyotheraphy n from AUSTRALIA and had the same line as his anthem as my email signature.. u know the "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ...  come on so what are the chances of that happening.. and and and and.. I turned him down! AM SHOCKED at how sensible i am being. By my standards its appalling...!!!


SIGN 3-  Blondie may cancel/postpone/defer holiday .... Ok so this one is yet on the maybe zone, but it is something that I am even entertaining, which by itself if humongous.. To elaborate I never ever cancel trips, it is equal to getting an amputation almost.... One of my closest friend is getting married that time, and even then I refused to cancel the trip. But now am voluntarily considering it.. for what WORK!!! How grown up am i becoming.. Scandalous


SIGN 4- .I am listening to doctors the silly things and not running off to the gym before the stitches are removed.. and even ate almost all medication, and spent half the weekend going to doctors voluntarily! ;-)


But not all is lost. At the same time this mature person me has spent 12 hours passed out from a drinking binge, run off to the airport at 3 am, spent half day chatting and doing trivia, played with 4 dogs on the road, kicked and bitten a few people, chatted nonstop with friend in parlour such utter nonsense that a female next to me asked what college we were in since no one else would make those statements, missed a business meeting because she was passed out and hmm driven parents mad with anxiety over non reachable status. 


So the mad girl lives too! Amen and touch wood.

April 16 2012

I switch off the light of the porch, as i whistle for Machku to stop messing with the poppies that are struggling to survive in the slightly chilly night and come in. She gallops back to the house, rolling her tongue as she looks sheepishly at the flower end sticking out of her ear.

Laughing at her antics, I open the door and watch her bound up the stairs heading straight to the one place she is not supposed to be going too. Standing in the living room, I rub my arms feeling the breeze caressing my goose bumps from their hidden spots. Stepping down the three stairs, I reach my favorite spot in the house, the cozy arm chair with the warm reading light, that seems to bekon to me to curl in and read. 

My eyes linger longingly at the half open book, carelessly tossed on the side table, the still warm coffee mug that promises nirvana and the characters beckon me to return. Its a Manju Kapoor book, her latest was giggling like a school girl when i bought it at the bookstore just this morning and groaning like a pregnant women with desperate food cravings as she described, Veda the protagonist gulping Puchkas on the street and savoring Bhel puri while withstanding the Kolkatta rains. Missed home then acutely, getting transported into the gullies of Kolkatta... to the everlasting summer vacations and walks that centered around the location and proximity of the snack stalls. Shit, I could kill to eat some of that spicy tangy unhygenic roadside nonsense right now. The supermarket, sterile version of the packaged yellow thing seemed like a apology that Sydney was trying to make for depriving me........

CRASH........... and a whimpering bark. Ohhhhhhh no! She has done it again!

Bhelpuri forgotten in seconds, I stop my time travel to rush half yelling half dreading the scene i can only anticipate awaits me. Pausing at the open kitchen table, for a the ever so useful tissue box, i head up the wodden staircase, without registering the tiny photographs that litter the walls, or the mirror that had never been set straight after the afternoons mock debacle....

Yup. thought as much. Machku dear at her best. Trying hard to conceal my smile, i watched her trying to squirm below the crib, pretending to be invisible. She knew she was in trouble and her defense was to feign ignorance.. What me? Like really you think I woke up little Kabir? Come on you really think i was hovering around the crib trying to steal a stolen moment of intimacy? lick a baby .. and me! NEVER!!!............

Thankfully, chottu Kabir was still to groggy to care. Whimpering a false note or two of protest he gave me a "its ok mom" relax kinda yawn and decided to return to his little world of fairy tale dreams. 

Unable to resist, i sat down next to Machku and lay my head on her belly. Surprised at this turn of events, she happily licked my hand before flattening out on the floor. We both sat there, watching Kabu babies face, register the emotions of his dreams. 

I watched the eye lashes, crinkle and the forehead crease. as he battled the baby hippo in his sleep, wearing his favorite ninja pants... saw his fists pump the air , and his baby fingers open up .. i slipped my finger in and he grasped it tight. so tight before collapsing his fist back on his chest.. Guess the baby Hippo had been sent packing to wherever he came from. 

Like 2 old wives Machku and me sat peacefully, breathing in sync content at the warmth the little room seemed to create.. for what seemed like aeons. 

Feeling hungry, i realize its already quarter past eight. Time seemed to have flown this Saturday what with the morning yoga studio session, the lazy breakfast with Kabu eating little bites of apple for the first time, to the applause of the sparrows and Machku managing to topple Nandu the turtle down the stairs. Husband dear had to make an emergency and trip to the vet to ensure that Nandu had not broken any bones. 

The best part was sitting in the upstairs swing, him and me, just talking trivia. Hanging out! kidding around at who had won the fastest " i can get him to sleep in minutes competition", discussing the location for the dinner and the HUGE surprise that i had planned for him,. speaking of which!

Fuck i am so screwed.. dragging machku from her own hippo dreams, i raced downstairs and furiously began preparing for the surprise. Sheesh, i hope his tennis game goes on till the third set and i get some more time. 

Pulling packets, tearing up the seasoning dinner is a quick gobbling session. Its food and lots of it thats needed to make sure he does not faint. as he keeps insisting that tennis shall make him do.. Sala Drama king. Shoving everything in the microwave, I hide the Manju Kapoor to ensure first readers rights and hop into the shower, much to the disgust of the silly dog.

Whew! almost done. 2 min to 8.30 pm and am set. ........ perfect timing.. missy ! the car swings in, the garage door creaks open, as the remote manages to get it act together and i hear laughter as he walks in through the door chattering non stop about his finest forehand that killed Mr. Showoffs game....

shaking my head, i watch my retarded grin spread all over my face, as i am engulfed in a bear hug, while listening to the magical strokes that did Mr. showoff in. Uff this man, this boy, this Goose of a character.. this pathetically crazy about life mad hatter.. who in the world did we end up here? and why in gods name did it take us so long?

i nestle into him, tuning into the conversation that is being bombarded into my ears, realizing it is now all FICTION.. Kill bill type razor strokes.. Like Really!.. I nip his chest and giggle as he yelps into the phone staring at me in mock horror... ASS!! Shut up and hang up will u............. and he does. 

Disconnecting with the world and connecting home. All his love all his energy felt in his warm embrace, his soft eyes as he wrestles the wet towel out of Machkus mouth, only to be flattened against the floor.. haha somethings never change.......

(dream? reality? me 2 years from now? yes/no? France? Sydney? Possible? who knows.......but the bones say this was real...it was.........)

Sania- a little girl after all

She is making headlines yet again, and once more the term tennis/winning/tournament is not the reason behind it. This time its her marriage, earlier it was the national flag, Shahid Kapoor, injuries and a persistent ability to attract speed breakers in the course of life each of which is treated like National Entertainment.

There is no way of determining at this stage if the Groom is a virgin at this marriage thing or a tried and tested machine. But this writing is not about him at all.

My world and the tennis stars were on a similar orbit, ablit for a short while, and managed some of the legal hassles connected with her media frenzies. Even then 2 years ago, my heart went out to her. At 21 or something that she was, her every move was labelled, critiqued and ridiculed by the media

Support was mostly non available, but speculation on her downfall pre meditated. Within her core circle of friends and family as well, it was clear that she did not have the luxury of being a TEENAGER or pandering to the whims of being a girl in love, and doing some of the silly things that we all do.. sneaking out, getting drunk, maybe dancing the night away were not for her to enjoy unless they were done in a sterile environment and she got up at 5 am to practice. .............To top it all her actions were to represent the actions of MUSLIM women across India. Now that is a heavy mantle to carry! ;-(

Getting married by itself is an act to give someone goose bumps.

Irrespective of the guilt/innocence of the boy, at the end of the day she is just a women wanting to marry the man she wants to be with. As Julia Roberts said in that infamous scene in Notting Hill " I am just a girl, standing in front of a boy"

May she find her prince charming and be happy. Gleefully fairytale kind of happy .

hippie or newbie

If you set foot on two boats chances are that you shall not move too much from the shore. At some point of time you shall have to choose, which boat is the one you shall set sail on.

For me I am confused about which ship to set sail on. One seems immediately alluring the other the grown up choice of moving on it life. Where are all these ambiguous statements stemming from? From 2 intense yet diverse experiences that came back to back and have left me soaked in bewilderment. Of these which one is more a reflection of me and which one is just a passing whimsical fancy

Experience 1

The cohabitation with Belgian boy has somewhere become larger than the individual and the moments shared. In a sense it represents a definitive lifestyle one where u TRULY live the present and ensure that as much life is squeezed out of it today without waiting for a more secure tomorrow.

To borrow from the ant and the grasshopper these are the happy grasshoppers that are gathering life experiences that are varied, vivid, real and have a horribly long sticky value.  These experiences are acquired through travelling, the kind of travelling where one really meets people and plugs into the community, leaving you exposed to trying out whatsoever may come your way.

Hmm this implies that everyday has a sense of new and wonder. They become the people with the most chilling stories shared over a bonfire or a dinner table, not always the most intense ones but def the most intriguging ones. The sheer depository of experiences that they can dip into to engage in a conversation is HUGE!.

So during a week with BB (Belgian boy) we spoke about everything from Mac Donalds, to dreams and aspirations, to death and what it means, the influence of languages, how people react to whites in India some extremely nonsencial conversation about hippos and winning the world peace prize.

Point being- there was a constant dribble of REAL conversation that did not have to borrow from the clichéd of favorite actors, work politics or the routines of life. I concede that any meeting with a stranger has immense fodder for conversation, the newness drives it.

But more than that at a subtle layer is what my friend calls the difference between a “Social Science” person and a “Science” person, where the former looks and is challenged by things like art, culture, shall want to learn the sitar while in a new place and explore the mindsets of children in the rural set while the “Science” gang is more concerned with the POINT of all this and if that cannot be answered are keen to brush these pursuits in the bucket called hobbies and live a real more meaningful life.

I ramble, think because these are still thoughts that are forming in my head. All I know is that in my experience there is a something called a “Explorer mindset” where one is an experience/conversation/newness junkie and this is motivation to get them to do anything, from planting seeds in a farm to milking a cow for no reason except that it has not been done before.

Experience 2

The night BB left, the long weekend arrived and we trooped off to the coolness of Coonoor, Ooty and Kothgiri, little places that have been charmed into producing tea for the colonial Saahibs. 

Male monica, excel marcoman and me sat in the car and trooped off.

Now Male Monica and Excel Macroman are the “science” types in several ways. Excel macroman the extreme version of it, to the extent that he had a statistical average computed regarding the average number of times that he shaved in a month and could not see car number plated without multiplying all the digits.

Male Monica, is definitely a few shades better, he is interested in opinions and has a point of view, well read and a robust interest in performing arts means that he is a storehouse of knowledge on several aspects.

The one thing that they however lack is the zeal to experience anything new, unless there is a real hardcore rational and compelling need for them to do so. They are willing to be cajoled into doing several things and more than comfortable being lead into situations rather than being initiating wild things themselves.

Result- I ruled during the trip. Became the cool bee; whatever I wanted we did. Lets boat sure lets boat. Lets shop? Eat dinner here? Not go to the room just yet etc etc I initiated and was surprised to see instant acceptance.

The one time that these two men had to enter into a conversation they started to speak about work, culture, what each of them did. The moment I woke up though, nonsense banter stirred from her sleep as well and a lasy time was spent chattering about B grade movies.

As excel macro dropped me home, we discussed the differences between us. The “lets do” vs the “let us let them do” gang. He was pissed that the “lets do” gang assumed that the “lets not do” gang did not want to take part in stuff we planned. He said that they enjoy it and infact like to be called for those events. However, they are not great at planning these and so are better at executing. Why he wondered did we not get that and just live with optimum utilization of capabilities?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Maybe it is a valid grouse. But all I know is that for me I connect more with the “lets explore” mentality. The lifestyle and life purpose is easier and takes much less energy to convince someone who wants to do these activities than cajoling a reluctant person to enjoy the silliness of sitting on the top of a car.

Either you like sitting on the top of a moving car and sit.

OR

You sit in the other car and wonder what tomfoolery are the jokers upto on the top of the car.

Both exist, both are valid. Which one am i?  

Couching we are !! ;-0

So Jungle 82 had pushed it too far. He had gone from here to go be at ivory coast, why?? to make money. The unwritten rule was that he was to be miserable, unhappy and spending all his waking moments dreaming of soft idlis and pining for home cooked food.

Instead!!!! The douche bag is doing this

• Seeing real live chimpansees in the JUNGLE@!!@!%#%#% and they came up to him and took bananas from his hand... what ever! 
• is eating sushi, and that too with chopsticks
• dances the night away doing the perfect head rolls on the floor that the yo boys are capable of doing on the dance floor 
• has 4/5 gorgeous female flatmates and is always off having a blast all the time

This is just the tip of the ice berg, add to this the havana drinks, crocodile meat, getting pulled by cops, love lessons, some indian movies and cooking pancakes on the beach while drenched from a volley ball match and you have a heady life combination that seems to be working out ! ;-)

So what if he deserves each and every moment hands down, has worked for years and years to get there, I can and still retain the right to be jealous (J82 u know i looooove u)

With all these experiences being thrown at me, i had little to compete with. The mumbai trips and eating a dosa somehow just did not manage to cut it. I hate hate having my life being DRAB! Drama  must be the corner stone and adventure the pillar it is placed next too..... 

So last night i became dramatic ...or decided to. For some random reason draped myself in a PINK dress and went to test drive cars. Pink dress, and high shoes I went for showroom to showroom asking the critical things that make me choose a car- mileage, safety n ability to zoom over speed breakers. Forgot all about the car engine, the torque etc etc. But was floored and how by the Mazda!! Superb ;-)

Then decided to beat Jungle 82 on his own game and met/hosted my first couch surfer.. 

Name - Wicked Boy

From - Belgium

Does - Grows organic potatoes, makes electronic music, flirts with the sitar, travels to south america, studies history and gets skin peeled off by baking on the seashores of burning Kerala 

Wicked boy was shown Bangalore by being escorted to his first Geek party, where he was assaulted by men wearing Royal Challengers T shrits, who explained in painstaking detail the role played by milk in creating lactic acid that covers the stomach lining as a result of which the indian version of marijuana, takes a longer time to react giving a high that has a duration of several hours and is natural in its body waste disposal method. So this reaction makes the equation of body and bhaang very powerful and he as a traveler must share some. 

Needless to state, we left and fast......... 

So wicked boy is chilling at home, and am trying to roll the corner stone of drama a notch closer to the adventure pillar. The drama is def there.. building up already..

Am off to swim today and then see a movie. Life is all right again I say

wisdom from a blue butterfly

have a butterfly friend in my life. Is a lot like the blue smoke spewing caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, sits on a toadstool and looks at the world through wise knowing eyes. Speaks in a language borrowed from Neo of Matrix and leaves a lot open to the fluidity of life and destiny.

GR saw me upset 2 days ago. very upset. and one of those things that I could not share yet not not get impacted by.. Yea too gol gol.. anyway he is not a probing kind of a guy. Steps back and without going into the details balms the feelings instead.... how do people do that i wonder... I am a pest.. Tell na? What happened? your mom said something.. u took your weight? and then and then and then.. I can go on and on till someone spills the beans on what happened .. the feelings are usually brushed aside like bread crumbs.

Anyway.. so little GR sent me a present ... a story. The moral of the story has not been spelt out just yet, you choose your own interpretation.

There is a great difference between what gets attracted towards us and what we choose to get attracted to. 

Going back to the butterflies... there was this small girl with lots of butterflies sitting on her and showering real love. All seemed fine till she she noticed a cockroach nearby. Failing to realize that it is different from a butterfly, she expected it behave like the butterflies. She wanted it to show love and affection. But the roach being itself kept running away into the dark. With all her friend butterflies advising her that its a roach, she still chose to chase it. The butterflies found it difficult to hold on while she was running. Her pursuit of roach was so pure from her side yet absolutely senseless and insensitive for the butterflies. They could not help but wonder. In the process she forgot to nurture the butterflies - tender beings. Some found it difficult to hold on - some died and some flew. She became oblivious to the passage of time and events. 

She managed to catch the roach - only to realize that it is not a butterfly. Only to realize few are still holding on and other have left. 

Who made it? Was it her? Was it the lack of patience from butterflies? Was it the roach? Was it the circumstance? Ah...was it fate?  

actions not words

Dr Brain L Weiss, is the author of the famous Many Lives Many Master book, amongst the other books on regression that he has written.


For the uninitiated, he was a trained shrink a certified doctor, who while treating one of his more difficult patients happened to regress her and heard spell bound as she narrated incidents from her past life. Its a fascinating series and real live cases of people who continue to live today.


For me there is/was one thing that stood out starkly in each book. As a patient died in their past life, they entered a tunnel of peaceful warm welcoming light, this light guided them into a period of rest and reflection. In this zone, each "spirit" would be asked what they had learnt during the course of that life. Interestingly, at the time of birth there was a mission that the "spirit" had set out to accomplish and it was time to do performance evaluation ;-)


The missions statements were the surprising things. It was not about changing the world or building the ozone layer but simple truths


- learning to trust
- love is important in families
- betrayal is ugly


lessons in these were what each life set out to teach. Taking these lessons as examples, in my experience space there is only ONE lesson that seems to be stuck on repeat mode.


           The lesson is - between actions and words choose actions. 


Simple lesson. Very tough to implement in entirety. 


Last year a specimen came in my life. A nice enough person, his actions however defied logic, am not even talking about the larger than life incidents that are dramatic. The small ones, the way you react when I am choose to see a movie with friends than meet you, demanding to be fed and served, subtle gender discrimination...


These are the small actions that are so tiny in the space that they consume in our lives that you let them slide. Focusing on the bigger events. The small ones break the foundation and leave you nothing to build on. 


Took me almost a year, to cease to have any interaction with that person in question. Wished had had the balls to cut it earlier.


Even at that time, what enabled me to do so was simple in its innocence. Made a laundry list of all the incidents that stood out for me in the time we spent, both the happy ones or the unhappy ones. Listed the actions, what we did or did not do forgot the words and was baffled at how the deep desire to be in love was clouding basic sanity of who you were choosing to be in love with.


Am revising the lesson now- aim to score full marks- Actions win over words

i am scared of me

Love is a complex game. 

The moment it turns us into blubbering fools. Keen to talk, to share to be validated. The same person we could have a back slapping conversation with, and sprawl on the bed with while seeing movies becomes someone we are conscious about. Every gesture gets a deeper meaning, every mail and text sent is read and re read looking for deeper meanings.  

Because somewhere in all this it becomes difficult to have a really honest conversation with ourselves and the  other person. We become scared to open up. Scared of the happiness of believing that it is here, that what we wanted for so long, the brief glimmer of hope that love may actually be knocking on the door makes us scared silly and we hide under the blankets dying to open the door and scared that if we did and let love in she would eventually up and leave.

That’s why I think we marry, its like a big lock that we can place on the door and say nopes, the flight out is available but u got to clean a lot of mess before you can choose to say the goodbye.

Why the hell am I talking in circles?

 Don’t know or maybe I do and am hiding from myself……

Someone once asked me two interesting and probing questions.

1.  Why do I seem to pick crash-burn-run relationships?

2.   Why is the attraction for those people who are taken?

As I type this out, I am taking a deep sigh and looking at them anew.  In the past year or two have seem to developed an art form of magnetizing in life some incredibility good and some useless people who are almost always stringed.  Good human beings, well then again everyone is a good human being for me but each with a story of how they had to go.  A fact that was not hidden but obvious from the moment go.

Hmmmm the problem then is obviously me and what I am choosing to attract towards me.  A cocktail of commitment phobia,  not having a ready made exit route ready or maybe the simpler scarier truth of the matter is that if there was someone who was there, really there then I would actually have to consider marrying that person.

The wisps of smoke, the illusion would solidify.

The dreams or the mental checklist I carry about who and what the person should be would become solidified to represent him.

Whoever that him is

Even scarier is that there may be a self esteem issue. Maybe and I think this is truer than I would care to acknowledge at some core cellular level, since I am prone to immense restlessness and get bored easily, I assume that is how every one else also thinks and feels. And so the fear is that when someone marries me, we shall get bored… eventually and that shall be just terrible. For him and for me.

What an absolutely silly way to think na……. that the institution of marriage then shall have to be re-crafted to allow the individual to shake themselves awake.. much like a dog post a shower and to reassess life post marriage. To get up and say, allright then this is sailing as is, but is not a kicker, so what else am I to do to get there… and this then gets the fuel going for more money, sailing, golf scores, some travel, chase and new conquests.

Am digressing into generic bullshit because talking about me is painful

So here is the bitter admission

I am not only blonde but also a woos. Trust easily and then look for love and reassurance in the wrong parameters. Get hurt and swear not to repeat this. I care and get invested, like meddle in your life invested super fast and then get confused when others are not like that.

But this is a sham. With the departure of each person, I re affirm my own limiting belief of how no one would want to spend a life with me, because somewhere am petrified of spending a faithful life time with someone.

Scary.

our lady knights

A friend fired his cook yesterday, because she was taking way too many days off and the food sucked. I am about to fire my maid too, if she shows up that is. The maid too has been missing in action, arbitrarily changing her reporting time of showing up at work and not been reliable. By all standards of performance, both are to be assigned to the CIP- Continuous Improvement Program – a term I heard some organization use recently and thereafter be asked to let go.  No matter where I was employed, would have been asked to leave as well.

On the flip side, the cook being asked to leave is only about 55 years old. Ready for retirement for a life time of pursuing leisure, hobbies and smiling at the doorway as you see grand children skipping in the courtyard. Instead she wakes up early, hale, rain or shine waits at the bus stop for the illusionary bus to appear, pays her fare and comes to the door step of my friends house. Repeats this day after day for a month to be paid Rs 600/- only with the added benefit of a saree for Diwali or something.

 Can vouch without hesitation that my friend is amongst the breed of the gentler employers, never questions leaves asked for is wonderfully non interfering, non critical, the invisible kind of employer.

(the lady in the pic wrote a best seller -her tale http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/02/books/02maid.html)

The maid I am firing is younger. Married to an alcoholic she has spent several nights below our roof with her only possession being 1 extra saree. Reason she was homeless, needed 1000 rupees to buy a new roof and had not got the savings for that to be put up. Being a migrant from Chennai meant that even acquiring a mobile to talk to her children, studying in a school far from her was an uphill battle as the basic documents of voter id/ration card/driving license were not there, since the house was not there. Such was a plight that often she would be trudging to the railway station to seek a roof over her head.

My cook is better off, relatively speaking that is. She has a pukka house. A no nonsense women she is efficient, verbose and makes no bones of getting her way in any argument.  This hard exterior is not hard to rip apart to reveal a young girl who got to Bangalore from Uttar Pradesh. The husband turned out to be yet one more monster, domestic violence was the norm and drinking her wages away an entertainment.  Managing several children she did the bravest thing she could. Sent the man back to the village, got the elder daughter to nanny the younger ones, while she cooked in several houses.

Interestingly she ensures that everyday she wears all the ornamental markings that go with being a married women, lest someone assume she was available and take advantage of her.

These are not isolated cases. Each house has a ramu/basanti/deepa/uma didi and variations of them cleaning, frying and getting the machinery of the house humming. Think more than the booming economy it is getting a Ganesh to clean the car, the Meena to cook the dinner and the Tara to wash the clothes that is the BIGGEST attraction for the return of a not so pampered NRI. 

“the maid has gone to the village”

This statement is greeted with as much anguish as someone being struck down with a heart attack. Frantic calls are made, the days to her return marked off on the calendar and trepidation filled moments lived in anticipation of her return or her disappearance, with both being equally possible as events.

Yet for all that they let us do with our lives, they get back precious little. No pf, savings, benefits or paid leave. 0 bonus or increments, at best some cast off clothes, good meals and some financial assistance for tiding over a tough patch only if there is a sympathetic boss and rightful pleading done.

What then is the solution? Get them to form a union? Get a commission to study the matter? Form something akin to labour net, that protects their rights … Maybe they are all ideas worth considering. But that is the easy route. In one stroke takes away the responsibility away from us to some third entity – the state, the workers themselves or some activist someplace to make a huge hue and cry about it.

Nah.  Don’t think that is an immediate solution. Get the alcoholic husbands to be made to work for their drinks; no drinks till you have a job??? Hahahahaa can almost hear the gongs of the state wide protests against this idea across dear Kerala.

At best, maybe what we can do is to do onto others as we would like to have done to ourselves.  Loosing a job is never easy. Heck, I for one know that and the financial impact for everyone no matter what the level of earning is a setback that takes time to get adjusted to.

For now all I have is empathy, treat your help as you would want to treat a peer in office. Free coffee and tea, some basic pay guaranteed to be on time, an increment, some praise, savings and a sense that you shall be taken care of because at the end of the day- YOU BELONG. No matter where you work, it gives u a sense of belonging to a larger community. Maybe its time we open our hearts not just our door to them.

My Miss Universe moment of the day is now over.