Hello Stranger

Hello stranger.

What a beautiful day.

Yes,I do go here.

Well,it’s nice to meet you too.

Oh.Pleasure.

Hello there!We meet again.

Nothing much really.Just a bit of trouble.The usual.Whatever.

Why,thank you!

No,there’s really no need.

Oh,well if you insist.:)

Hello!How’ve you been?

Sure sounds like a good weekend.

Wow!

Well maybe we can go together.

No,I don’t like pink at all.I like blue.

Hello.Ooh you’ve got me something.

And it’s pink. :/

:/

: |

: )

: ) )

: D

:D :D :D

Hey!Wait up for me.

Missed you too.

No,I’d like that,actually.

At seven then?

Hello,and thank you.

That was lovely.

Oh!Let’s get us some banana milkshakes.

Well they’re my favourite too.

Oh no,you did not.

You did?

Haha,well it sure was worth it : )

Hey,I saved you a seat.

Well,I can come with you ,if you like.

No I’m not scared of walking back alone.

But you can come with me too.Not that I want you to (but I do).

Hello!Yes,I did call you last night.

That’ s strange.

No,go ahead.

No hard feelings.Really.

Hello.

Long time,no see.

I beg your pardon?

Did you really just say that?

That’s not true.

I can’t believe you would hold that against me.

Fine, then.

I saved you some banana milkshake but I’m guessing you want to pass.

...well,I was always a good guesser.

Hello.

………

………

……..

Well,bye then.I’ve got to go to…..

Oh yeah,you’ve got to go too,to that….

Cya.

“Hel…um”.

That was harder than I thought it would be.

I can’t believe this is it.

Hello,stranger.

~~~~

P.s : I just got this picture off Google search.I'm not sure if it's from a Flickr stream,but if it is,I'm sorry.Please let me know.I shall credit you or have it removed.No copyright infringement intended.

Calling all Sinners !

People turn purple with rage, red with shame, and green with envy at least once a day, and more than a handful of times a week. It’s statistically proven. Ok, maybe it’s not, but that doesn’t make it untrue, and I’m sure you could vouch for that. Shades of these emotions certainly make life more interesting, but while no one wants to lead a boring life, maybe living sinfully isn’t the solution. It’s one thing to talk about the evil effects of these …! GASP! vices, and a whole another thing to live with them.

Envy.

Something we’ve all befriended, ever since we saw our neighbor propping his Mac Book against the dashboard of his BMW, or ever since we secretly wished we too,could put away a cheeseburger and fries along with a chocolate latte, and still look like that amazingly fit friend (everyone has one of these friends, everyone).

Envy.

It’s never pretty, and sometimes, it gets downright ugly. Although it might be a bit of an ego boost when you know someone secretly envies you, it’s not so much fun when above mentioned person decides to indulge in a little behind- the- back slander or _______(insert backstabbing activity of choice here). After all, ‘Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, and spite spawns lies.’

Unless your skin is as thick as dragon hide and you are unaffected by the petty crimes the world and its denizens commit around you, you might want to square your shoulders and learn to deal with it.

Look for the good in everything, and also teach others how to do it. More often than not, green eyed monsters are usually big warm marshmallows inside, but with a baggage of low self esteem attached. Counting our blessings and remembering that each of us is unique is an amazingly simple gift we forget to give ourselves. We tend to get so involved in marking our win against the others on that giant imaginary scoreboard, that we forget that we aren’t even in a race.

This season, we stop the sins.

This season, we turn our wasted minutes into useful ones as we finally join that salsa class, or get that A on our report card because we’ve kept ourselves busy and wonderfully so.

This season, we lock up our envy, and give that friend of ours a high five while falling into step beside her during her morning jog. Maybe we even pass Mr. Hotshot neighbour and his car, enroute, and flash him a smile. And just maybe, that classmate who always picked on us for being a Harry Potter nerd will ask us if we’d like to go watch Deathly Hallows: Part 1 with them next week. After all, what goes around comes around.

This season, we shed the green.

My personal Goddess...

is my mother.

Come this Thursday,she will be celebrating her 53rd birthday!

I intended to write her a lovely blog post on her birthday,combining my love to celebrate other people's birthdays and the need to do something light and fun on my blog for once (ask Say and Rach ,they'll vouch for the Saawariya-esqueness of this blog,and that's not the best thing to be, really).However,in a world where nasty internal exams and annoying tests ..and procrastination abound,one can never do anything too soon,and so I find myself celebrating Mom's birthday earlier than I'd planned with all you lovely people in Blogsville. :)

This one's for my one talisman,my personal favorite Goddess,my Amma.You are awesome because

1)You accept me the way I am-moody,silly,angsty,extra cheerful,or at my emo best.*Terms and Conditions never apply.

2)You support my identity,you help carry the weight of it..and when I wear an extremely gaudy and ridiculous gift wrapping ribbon on my hair and pose for the cameras,you take a picture and look at it adoringly. :|

3)You provide for me-and not just in the Earth mother kind of way yknow. Not to belittle The World's Best Dosa you make,or your perfectly seasoned Morekali served with double pyaar (that's a family adjective,btw :D ) , but the way you meet my every little need,and most of my little wants, simply overwhelming.I applaud you,because God knows shopping for indecisive teenage girls needs talent.

4)You share with me.We can exchange gossip updates,discuss favorite bits of poetry and how not to forget to watch award shows on TV, indulge in some lighthearted bitching (what?It's good for the soul :D ),and what not.You are my BFF and hangout buddy. I love that I can watch the Sound of Music,Mary Poppins,the Devil Wears Prada,Kal Ho Naa Ho,DDLJ,and Alaipayuthey with you a gazillion times,and yet you do not sigh when I recite the dialogues along with the hero/heroine at breakneck speed. I love that you lend a ear to my ahem..musical renditions..err :D ,attempt to make sense of my muddled creations,and dance with me to Marriage of Figaro when I play it on whimsical evenings,and do outrageous things that we can snort about later.

5)You guide me.Through times of darkness,and into the light.I don't know what I'd do without you,you great ol' cuddly angel. You give some scary ass lectures,but you make up for them with the best Good Morning hugs ever.


6)You inspire me.Your thoughts,opinions,decisions,gestures,your kind little ways,your anecdotes,your sarcasm, your belief in the power of sincere hope and prayer,even your childish rejection of Tom Felton (though I do love him so..dear me..:P ),everything you do...
teaches me a little something about the world.

7)You love me like no one ever could.I can always be The Princess with you,and that one tiara I'll always want to wear,like a tattoo etched into my skin.When Monica tells her two baby boys that she'll "love you so much no woman will ever be good enough for you",she surely took a leaf out of your book! :)

Here's to one dear little woman nestled in a corner of India,a woman with amazing strength and unconscious grace,and a will to change the world and learn to make the perfect Garlic Bread.

• SRK
• Deewana Hua Baadal
• Roshagullas from Muh Mishti
• birthday cakes shaped like cricket pitches and the Powerpuff girls
• Cab rides to everywhere
• The Big Fat Pancake and other stories
• Impromptu photoshoots
• Dedications written while gifting books
• "Cornflakes Milk" @ 11 p.m

and a world of other things will always remain special to me,and you know why, Amma.

Thank you.Have a wonderful birthday,and a great life ahead.More power to you,and lots of sunshine as well.
Cheers and hugs from the daughter.
:)

Of beauty and such.

Forms are many and beauty is one.

Beauty that is eternal,perfect even when undone.

We all crave beauty,so much it is true,

For whoever wrote a sonnet for a bad tempered shrew?

Or a twenty page thesis on badly written prose?

Who turns away from beauty that is tangible,that is close?

Helpless in our addiction to perfection are we.

I admit I like,in my garden , a well pruned tree.

Yes,I revel in writing under unruly oaks,mostly,

But putting that in my backyard’s quite a task,don’t you see?

Pictures of orphaned kids doth make the heart bleed.

Whose pictures do you Like though,who’s tweeting up your feed?

We all enjoy bouts of temporary divinity,

Then resort we must to normal comforting insanity.

Quite the liar I am when I preach.

Damn.I even want my verse in sizes of four lines each.

Who isn’t guilty of liking beauty? Why talk of blame?

Beauty is the drug,quite the rule of the game.

Thought for the day # 3 a.k.a Misnomers

You are my melody.You are my lullaby.You are my dirge.

On friendship

Friendship is a concept everyone has an opinion on.
And rightly so. While the comforts of luxury are not everyone’s privilege, a good friend is everyone’s birthright.
Or is it?
Sometimes, we find that certain people tend to make friends rather easily.
Some of us call them outgoing.
Some call them fun.
Some of us ,with a case of sour grapes, are content to label them social whores.
When you ask yourself why a certain person makes friends almost everywhere, pat comes the reply “ Just the vibe they’ve got”.

So?

I mean, if you needed that vibe to make friends, that just nullifies the whole concept of your friends being there for you despite your personality (or lack of it thereof ) , doesn’t it?

Assuming that you’re lucky enough to have a few really good friends, whom you get to see on a frequent basis, answer me this?
What kind of friends do you make? Do you have different categories?

The party friends…the ones good for a drink, a party, and a night out,...whenever you want it.

The mellow ones, whom you can share a cuppa and redecorate your room with.

The intellectuals, who are perfectly at home discussing music and will not regret spending a good hour arguing the merits of the latest bestseller with you.

The cushioners,who always have a friendly shoulder, a sympathetic smile, and a duvet on which you can camp the night, when the world does a gloomy on you.

Or are your friends a wonderful amalgam of all these shades, rolled into one brilliant and original combo,
people you would give your right arm and leg for,
souls you’re so relieved to have found ,that you’d never let 'em go ? :)

What if you had to let go?
What would you do then?
Would you resign yourself to endless hours of Skype,frequent travels,the occasional email,
and look around in other places and settle for a little more accessible,albeit less cherished friendship?
Pardon me if I’m wrong, but friendship requires more than a friendly face and a clean parole record.
Much like love, friendship requires certain chemistry. If it didn’t, the whole world would be one big ridiculously happy family.Not that that’s a bad thing. Or not. Whatever.

What if letting go was too painful to handle? Would you choose to live in a dream, and end up completely cranky and disillusioned when the dream ends (oh and it will).

Maybe I'm being a bit of a damper.

Maybe friendship doesn’t require this much thinking over. Maybe it should be more light hearted, with a lot more je ne sais quoi and a lot less of “what if” and” but”.

What then, is the secret to a wonderful friendship, and how did it reveal itself to you?

Like they say, the world’s a stage,and everyone’s a poet ! Expound your theories please,your friends await your presence on the dais,one hand clutching a coffee,and the other,holding a barf bag.
Because they know you. :D :p

“A friend hears the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails."— Anonymous

P.S –The above post was written when I was half asleep.Just pounded out everything that came to mind out on my keyboard.Feel free to wade through the rambles and share your opinions :)

Fast fading.

We're a cliche,you and me.
A habit done to death.
A song on the last note.
The strains are fast fading,come quick,
And maybe,we can sing along for one last time.

We're a story,you and me.
Deliciously unpredictable.
Yet,how ironic,that we must end how most stories end,
Quietly.No fanfare.A clean break.
A few sniffles.
Maybe,for old times' sake,we share a cuppa,for one last time?

We're old news,you and me.
The magic ain't there no more.
Or maybe,they make better fireworks in the world nowadays.
Whatever.But before the small talk sets in,
Surely we can grant us one last conversation,for one last time?

One last time just slipped away,didn't it?Or did it?

Pretence.Not a fan.

All of us,at one time or another,have faced double standards.And doled them out too.While people may have reason to mask their real feelings from time to time,constant pretence is just...annoying,

Sometimes,I wish people would tell me what exactly they think of me.However,they never do that,so I have to play mind reader and lemme tell you;it's really hard to filter out true emotion from all the socializing crap;
but a part of me wonders if I'll be able to handle the truth.Dependent creature that I am,I don't really know if I'll be able to digest the idea that a friend or a loved one prefers not having me around.

Sure,no one can hope for universal popularity,to borrow a phrase from Dumbledore.All one can hope for is a little honesty,some patience,and a tinge of reality in the farce that are some relationships today.

Ah hope!

P. S : I almost forgot...HAPPY NEW YEAR folks!Keep your spirit soaring and make 2010 your best year yet :)

Familiarity breeds...

If you guys don't know I love being in Hyderabad already,well you know it now!:D
I don't know what it is,but seeing familiar faces all day does wonders for one's mood.
(Don't put nazar yaar....itne dinon ke baad mein ITNI khush hoon :D )

I find I'm able to handle minor disappointments (I still sulk for the big ones) and changes relatively well.I'm smiling at random strangers,and I'm singing out loud.I'm also writing,blogging and talking to people a lot more actively.After quite some time,I'm feeling a different sort of happiness-not the rush you get when you see Robert Pattinson or SRK posters,not the relief that floods you when you're done with a nasty assignment,but the sort of happiness that doesn't ebb in a few moments,but emulsifies into a comforting satisfaction that stays with you for a while.

Treaded on the old lanes,
Went to the forgotten balcony to watch 'em planes.
Fed on the deliciously oily chaat,
Revisited things close to the heart.

Cracked old jokes ,
chatted up many an old friend,
Hummed those forgotten tunes,
Finally,the scars did mend.

Some buildings waited in welcome,
some had already gone to their grave.
Some people didn't (thankfully) change,
And that helped me face the ones that did,it made me brave.

If people need holidays,
don't souls need one too?
If you knew your brew of life was available at that one place,
Wouldn't you visit often too?



I know people say that familiarity breeds contempt.But y'know what?
Sometimes familiarity just breeds smiles.All day long. :) :) :)

Enough said.

Rise up!

Rise up!
No,I'm not talking about the latest song that's got everyone in such a tizzy!
I wanna take a moment here to remind everyone to rise up.Simply rise up,beyond all the difficulties,beyond all the barriers,physical,emotional,or any other sort.Face the challenges,brush away the insults,and turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to all the negativity around.

Remember to rise up and I promise your day will end with a smile :)
There,that's better!


Cheers !

No,I'm not a Legilimens!

All of us,at one time or another,have faced double standards.And doled them out too. And while people may have reason to mask their real feelings from time to time,constant pretense is just …annoying.

Sometimes I wish people would tell me what exactly they think of me.But since they never do that,I have to play mind reader and lemme tell you ;it’s really hard to filter out true emotion from all the socializing crap.But a part of me wonders if I’ll be able to handle the truth. Dependent creature that I am,I dont really know if I’ll be able to digest the idea that a friend or a loved one prefers not having me around.


Sure,no one can hope for universal popularity,to borrow a phrase from Dumbledore.All one can hope for is a little honesty,some patience and a tinge of reality in the farce that are some relationships today.

Ah hope!

Truth and falsehood are next door neighbours

I'd like to believe that truth and falsehood are neighbours.Although there is clearly a world of difference between the two,overcoming that difference can be done in a fraction of time.

You see,when you stop believing in something that is true and real,it doesn't hold any value for you anymore.It doesn't represent any entity that you set store by.In other words,it isn't true anymore,not to you at least.

It also works the other way round.Once you start believing in an abstract,imaginary or unreal idea,concept or person,you start to function as if that idea/person/thing is an integral part of your existence.No matter how ridiculous it may seem to others,you're still going to set store by it ,aren't you?
It's a truth you've acquainted yourself with.

There's a fine line between truth and falsehood,my friend,and that line is you.

A plateful of art,with science on the side?

This is an oft-repeated complaint,and yet it needs to be voiced,because no solutions have been discovered yet.It started when I caught some of the Step Up! movie while doing some mindless matinee television surfing.As I watched the dancers fret over their showcase dance performance and have dancing companies come and scout for talent at their art school,I wonder why we haven't seen much of that at home,here in India.Art generally plays second fiddle to science or inevitably bows down to the craze of the nation ,"engineering".

I know that movies aren't exactly a parameter of life ,but it is common knowledge that the West takes art seriously.We hear about colleges offering a major in dance or music and many students actually going for it.There apparently are many scholarships offered for such programs too.Art is given its rightful place,and respected as a form of expression that requires as much creativity and genius as any other field does ,both at the workplace and at home or in society.

I hate to criticize, but can you tell me honestly if you haven't heard conversations like this before in and around your neighborhood?

Aunt/Uncle/Parent : "So tell me beta ,what are your plans for the future?

Son/Daughter/some teenager :"Yeah,I've always been interested in painting or photography or some visual medium like that ."

Parent :"Woh sab toh theek hai beta,but let's get serious.What do you plan to do for a living??

Kid:"Yes,I mean it seriously.I've found I'm good at it,it's not just some new hobby.

Parent: "I don't understand why you always go off on a tangent like this.Can't you be a grown up about your career?Look at [Fill in name of elder sibling here].Look he's a doctor now!Can't you..."

And so it goes.I've been a victim of it myself,when I wanted to major in Economics or English Literature. The worst part of it is ,no one is wrong here.You can't blame a parent for wanting to look out for their kids.In an extremely competitive land of the Indian junta ,you sometimes have just one opportunity to make it big,and they just don't want you to mess that up.In a family where financial troubles loom large,and insecurity becomes the topic of discussion at the dinner table,people tend to veer others towards tries and tested careers like engineer,doctor,banker,etc.

Ironic isn't it though?That this kind of prejudice should exist towards art in an era where our nation's pride ,A.R.Rahman wins global recognition for his music?Where reality shows are held every hour of the clock to discover the next singing or performing sensation?Where Carnatic singers' concerts are booked solid during the "Kutcheri" season?Where millions of dance schools select students from hopefuls every year and introduce them to the professional industry?


What's the problem then?Is it a fear of the unknown,a instinctive desire to stick to family tradition?Or a mere battle of wills?Whatever the reason maybe,the result is that kids have to lock up their precious ballet flats and ghungroos,or give away their electric guitar,and erase a shining dream from their eyes as they stick to the..what is it? the "conventional" route.

We've got to do some attitude improvement folks.Unless you want to unknowingly extinguish a spark even before it got a chance to burn brightly.

So,the bottom line is... I'm hungry.For once ,can you serve me a plate full of art,with science as a side dish for a change?

Tissue paper

Your warm hands envelop me,
You pull me to your side.
I try real hard to dry your tears,
Disinfect you from inside.

But then crumpled,I come down.
Laugh lines gone,I wear a little frown.
And then the equation sinks in,
I'm tissue paper headed for the nearest bin.

I bet you've heard of phoenixes,though
And how they rise from the ashes on the ground.
I fancy I'm taking on that colour myself,
I prepare to be used again ;the tissue paper waits to be found.

Then why has something changed today?
Some strength has come along!
I'm sorry,but orchestrating to your song
Isn't gonna work for long.

So don't get me started
On your silly lil insecurities,
Our unfathomable disparities.
The sinking realities...

I know you push me down one minute
And give me a hand the next.
I also know you try to apologise
By sending me some hilarious texts.
I know you cried last evening,
When he didn't return your call.
I can sense when you're feeling euphoric,
I try to help when you fall.

I don't know if I'm eligible to be called your best friend.
But all i know is I've been one,from the start to the end.

Why won't you acknowledge my shadow,
I know who you are inside.
Face it ,I'm not tissue paper.
I just might be your real guide.

Awkward silences

Silence is never soothing.Not for me atleast.
When there is something happening,there is sound.
When there is nothing left to happen,that is when there is deathly,hollow and numbening silence.And the thought scares me.

Tell me something new.Tell me something old.
Narrate.Recite.Sing.Laugh.Cry.Whisper.Mumble...just don't offer me that scary silence.

Goddamn it,is it so hard for you to say something to me?
I find it hard to believe that friends can suddenly disconnect.

As a last resort,please tell me you were friggin' kidding me. :|

She's all that...

Eyes that haven't been bought off time,
Beauty that isn't so bewitching it ought to be a crime.
Hair that probably won't pass for a silken sheet,
No radiance that would launch a fleet.

And yet she wins the world over
With a soul so warm it could blow your cover.
Wanna fight?Bad idea,run for a mile...
Coz there she goes,with her disarming smile.

Pink,not from roses,but from the shyest blush,
Red,not from her gowns ,but her righteous anger.
Blue,not from elixir,but stolen from the bemused sky.
Green,not from envy ,but from that wreath of fallen leaves.

So go say sorry,or simply say hi.
No need to be wary,no disquieting urge to pry.
Put some cookies in your basket,and some flowers in your hat.
A lil magic into your life,coz yeah...she's all that!

Dear Dad,

Dear Dad,
It is very difficult for me to write a letter...not just to you,but to anyone in this world...and I think part of it is because I am impulsive.I think impulsively...no wait,scratch that out,because impulses hardly ever go hand in hand with though,do they?
I suppose I act,react,feel and express at an alarmingly quick rate,that sometimes,emotions tumble over.Musings that brew at the very back of my mind come out,all in a stutter.Petty spite and short lived resentment flare up and burn some fragile threads of conversation...and sometimes these threads can never be reattached.
I am too scared to lose the people who are a part of my world,and this prevents me from being downright frank and genuine with them.Hence,...the long silences.

Of course,losing people is something I've become used to.It's almost routine now.Moving out of Hyderabad meant saying Goodbye to so many lil friends,formal friends,"jus-for hanging out" friends and the ones whom I can talk to till two a.m.
Moving out of a familiar circle of faces was like leaving the pleasant Australian seas behind to sail out to the cold,gloomy lonely Antarctic shores.
The difference is that I know that I mustn't sail back,even if I knew I could.

I always hated your job,Dad.Yessir,living out of the suitcase for months together can douse the wanderlust in anyone.Moving to a new place every three years ,fitting into a cozy group of your own only to abruptly leave again,and always having a different house,a different school,a different identity is something I cannot,and probably will not ever understand.That's just the problem though,isn't it?
I didn't understand.I didn't understand that it wasn't all just about me.I did not even meander around the possibility that there probably are bigger losses in the picture.Deeper disappointments,stronger regrets,or more wistful expectations that float around in your mind.

And yet, you haver never let me remain with a frown on my forehead for too long.With hot cups of cheerful coffee(with the chef's special ingredient:double pyaar), sincere apologies,earnest promises,warm smiles,and even more warm words,you wipe away my tears,and bring in a little more hope,a little more light.
You are the best pick me up drink Ive ever had the fortune to taste,Papa,and I will always be glad that I was picked to be your daughter.


I know ,that like you,all Dads,try to be the ideal "man",completely involved in dressing others' wounds,while their own blood trickles unnoticed.I admit that I sometimes took this for granted,secure in the thought that there was always one person whom I could fall back on,my cushion,my infallible barrier from all things that are big and bad,cold and cruel.I remember ,in a flash,a conversation we once had,back when the world was a happy riot of colour.You asked me:"Always be with the people in your life.You can buy everything in the market,heck even hearts,but not people."Only,I've never had the need to reflect upon these words,until now.

However,I've opened my eyes to the fact that,barriers shatter too.
Mighty oaks sway,houses of brick start to shake,and the bravest of hearts shudder.
And that is when the willows sway too,trying in vain to block the oaks from the gusty fiends.That is when the humble powdery cement tapes the red bricks onto the foundation,and that is when little hands soothe the hurt,pieces of bravehearts.
If prayers can move mountains,then surely prayers can carry my heartfelt sentiments across the borders to you ,Papa.

My father.My hero...
I pray for your mental and physical strength and well being.May the angels watch over you.

Peace,
Your loving daughter.

Yeah,so???

Yeah,so???

There you have it.Pure indifference,spelled out in two simple words.
Over the years,we have incorporated this particular gene which helps us to ignore all things sad and pathetic around us.This immunity is so efficient that it acts like a metre thick lead wall,shielding every piteous sight and muffling every anguished cry.

The other day, I was taking a break in the park.Merrily swinging on the metal jhoola when this little kid of about four walked up to the swing next to me and clambered onto it.
After a few minutes of silence broken only by the rhythmic squeak of the swings,with innocent curiosity ,the kid,let's call her Chhoti,began a friendly interrogation.

"Where are you from?" "What did you say your name was?" "What do you do?""What is your name?" "Is your favourite colour pink?" "Your favourite colour is blue?Really,blue?"
"Shall we play something?" "Err...what's your name?"

In spite of my miserable mood,I soon became engrossed in this conversation.After a minute or to,a young servant maid of 8 or 9 years joined us in the park.She was the bai or the caretaker/playmate of Chhoti.She shot an inquisitorial glance at me.After assuring her that I lived in the same colony,and that I wasn't some weirdo who hung around the swings despite not being a toddler,she stood beside us demurely.

"Which class are you in ?"

I reverted back to the conversation and proceeded to satisfy Chhoti's eternal thirst for facts about my life.

"I'm in college."

"Well I'm in kindergarten; and this girl here...",Chhoti said,glancing at the 8 year old caretaker,"..she isn't in any class."


"What do you mean?"I ventured.

"Oh ,she's not in any class,just at home.All the time."She concluded in a cool,indifferent ,superior voice.

Reality bit me,hard.Well,...I dont blame Chhoti.The kid's probably seen the young caretaker around the house,doing odd jobs and cooing to her,all the time.The kid accepted her partially as her "friend" and in the same breath,seated her on a lower pedestal because the elder one didn't,and probably couldn't afford to attend school. Albeit unintentionally,this kid had become one of the grown ups who categorize people based on their stand in education ,wealth or family status,rather than trying to connect to a person's emotions or personality.
Attitudes like this might retard the rise of the wave of change that is slowly beginning to take shape in society.

So wht've we gotta do?
We gotta correct the error of our ways,retype the code in our heart and reprogram ourselves to wake up to a barrier-free world!

Mum's the word!

Of all the people in the world,i never thought my mother would actually cover as a pretty good BFF(Best Friend Forever)....ok, so the mood was pitch black:my best friend had canceled on me,after weeks of detailed planning for a food tasting spree(Little Italy or Amore ice creams or Bowl o' China)...!
Amma graciously offered to fill in as gal pal 4 the day,and out of sheer boredom,coupled with an unnatural rush of gratitude ,i agreed!

I dreaded this outing because i was well familiar with the routine....the evening would begin on a high note,descend into a mid range pitch,and hit flat bottom soon...with Amma lapsing into frequent rapid fire Q&A sessions about my homework,tests,room cleaning ,application form posting schedules ....but boy,was i in for a surprise....

We went to Hyderabad Central first,where we caught the matinee of Taare Zameen Par and successfully exhausted our tear duct reserves...Then we lunched at Noodle Bar ,where Amma was even brave enough to sample a weird looking seaweed green sauce!
Dur.ing a rather languid hour of window shopping,Amma and me tried playing word association,with some hilarious results!

Me:Sound (thinking of Julie Andrews from Sound Of Music )
Mom:Vessels(thinking of our extremely noisy maid )

Me:Shopping(zooming off to Hogwarts with visions of luxurious eagle feather quills )
Mom:Refills (can't blame her really....it always is on the weekly bazaar list...i manage to lose stationery extraordinarily efficiently!)

But what I really loved was...

Me:star (thinking SRK)
Mom:SRK(also thinking SRK!)

P.S:Amma ,thanks for the srk fan genes!

As we winded our way back home,we gleefully chortled at some of the callers on a radio talk show.Amma played entertainer and regaled me with tales of her school days and of annual day plays she'd been in .It felt truly rejuvenating talking to someone who knew to enquire about your life with words other than "ssup?"

Well,I don't have enough words to describe it ....An air of joie de vivre marked that day.

Someone said : "Friends are God's way of making up for family".
Are you sure it isn't the other way round?

The Sis Act...

After many years,well,months,more likely,my cousin ,Aparna ,came visiting.
It was right after the first exam of a particularly scary test series,and i was overjoyed!What better way to unwind than with an enthusiastic lil sis who has the same taste as you?

That one week was like a huuuuuuuuuuge slumber party!Everyday,i came home at noon from college,bolted down my lunch and got ready to partay...
My humble room,with its eclectic cozy cushions and its ever beckoning endeariness served as the perfect backdrop for our shenangians!And for some reason,Dard-e- disco(yes,the same noisy,six pack thang)became our anthem.And boy,was it perfect!

I've always wanted to ,what's the phrase,"hang with a gal pal", and do all the stuff that happens in Princess Diaries...nd sixteen years of wishful thinking finally paid off!

We ate out every other night,laughed ourself silly at almost every Disney animation flick,and scared every inmate of the house with our karaoke sessions(hey, i didn't say i sing well! ).

I blissfully neglected my homework and study sessions that week.I'd somehow lost the key to reality,and i was happy lost in a maze of adventure.

Now ,i find i've been thrown rather unceremoniously across the hedges,right back into REAL LIFE.baah...

Still ,i've no complaints coz ...someone once said..


"One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name."

Yeah!