a look back - ghost of the year past

2010's been a blur. Honestly. For some months, I had to refer to previous posts. It's been a great year for shoes though! And books too, as I rediscovered my love for reading.

Let's recapitulate.. This is more for my benefit than to entertain you.

All through Jan-May: Last semester of MBA. In terms of studies, it was a fruitful sem, it made me glad I chose Marketing and I learnt a lot about it. Some relationships thrived, some suffered, but everything ended on a good note. The sole incident in April that held any excitement was that I fell down the stairs. It was thrilling. The pain was not and my phone lost a crucial key. I haven't replaced the key or the phone. Now it has a story behind it :D

June is a total blank.

July: A bloody AWESOME trip to Bombay.

August: Extractions and Gossip Girl. Period.

Come September and it was all about audieu, one mind blowing day out at a lake with my entire family and some of the best times I've had with my friends. Which inspired me to write this, so far the best post on this blog.

October: Interviews and a couple of amazing morning outs. And books.

November was a test of our hospitality as home was more like a guesthouse. My bff was down, then my cousin, then my mom's bff and after they left my grandmom (who I almost poisoned UNINTENTIONALLY, but let's leave that story for another time) and my cousins from Hyderabad for a couple of days in between. And another fab fab fabulousssso two trips to Bombay. Best month of the year - strengthening the bonds with family, friends and Damon Salvatore (YUMMY!) from The Vampire Diaries. I admit the relationship with the last is a bit one sided.

And December? I sliced the palm of my right hand. How, you ask? Indeed you should.

Well, I was walking. Maybe it was with a little skip. It was dark. The road was bad. And the rest of me decided to join my feet on the ground. My cousins helped me up and I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my right hand. I turned it and was surprised to see it trying to drown itself in my blood. I turned the palm down again lest they should see it and freak out. Which they did. What followed was people gathering and gazing at my hand in dazed horror, a rickshaw driver trying to stop the blood with 'spirit' (so he said which I suspect was his daru ki bottle), a two hour wait for a surgeon at Jehangir Hospital after the nurses patched me up and a lie down in the minor operation theatre getting stitches by the craziest doctor I'd ever met who made me promise my next holiday would be in Paris.

That's a promise I don't mind keeping.

And then there was my birthday. 23. Some great gifts. 'Nuff said.

Now I'm back in Kuwait. I've caught up with all the series worth watching (Outsourced is a good one), lost the mood for movies and have a whole bunch of books to read. The stitches and bandages are off but my skin still feels tight. I still love my own company and prefer to be left in solitude most of the time. My age is still mistaken to be around 15-18 years and I found in me a passion (of sorts) for photography after I was blessed with a hot purple compact camera (Canon SX210 IS - a cam so cool, so mod, it has sex in it! xD) which takes gorgeous pictures without giving me the need to tweak on photo editing software.

I have time to read again. My muse reaches out to me more often than it ever did before. And as long as I have that I don't need much more.

Except that holiday in Paris. ;)

the tall and short of it

I have one sibling.

The sister.

The sister is 4.5 years younger than me.

The sister also towers over me by 3 inches at 5'7".

The sister and I are often asked if we are twins (this never fails to puzzle me deeply, we look nothing alike).

When we reply in the negative, the public, dissatisfied, then inquire if the sister is older than me.

Infallible logic but we have encountered it countless times.

Much the same thing happened yesterday.

Only nothing was asked, but assumed.

Whole new angle.

The sister was congratulated for completing MBA.

When the bungle was cleared, I was asked in wonder how the sister hit such a growth spurt and I am obviously stunted (not exactly in those words).

'God's will,' I usually reply, an answer which is a huge hit with older people (read uncles who are no relation).

But this time, I merely shrugged, weary of the whole act.

Image courtesy: a forward - how to kill time at work.

the biggest bloomin' roses

Every time we fly down from India, the first thing that catches your eye as you enter the house is a humongous bouquet of flowers on the dining table reaching halfway upto the ceiling. My dad places a rose on each of our pillows with a chocolate. This time it was a cream coloured rose with a pink tint and a Kit Kat.

my winter wonderland

If you're in Pune right now, you're probably feeling the chill. I love that it's finally cold enough to wear a sweater throughout the day. It's exceedingly gratifying to dust the woolens out of their prolonged hibernation.

Revelation for the day: Bad idea to get the remaining wisdom teeth extracted in winter when you're down with the flu and your immediate diet should include only ice cream and all things cold.

Yes, a very bad idea indeed.

Not that it matters anymore, as I intend to keep the rest of my teeth firmly attached to my jaw.

(rescued from drafts)

blitz

The girl smiled peacefully in her sleep, dreaming a lovely dream.

Little did she know she was being watched.

The observer rubbed her hands in glee. She had just found her next victim. The ones in deep, sweet sleep were always the ones that gave her the most satisfaction. Never being entitled to the pleasure of losing herself in a dream, she felt she had the right to crush the ones of those that did.

Jealously, she looked at the inert girl and tried to speculate what fantasy the latter's subconscious might be conjuring up but she couldn't, being cursed with a dreamless sleep.

She smiled cruelly and struck.

The girl didn't know what hit her. She stirred, her dream shattering.

Drunk on the successful implementation of her nefarious plot, the evil intruder flew off, leaving no trace of her visit except for a tiny swelling on the girl's elbow.

when the bffs hit town

She's gone.

The last twelve sleep deprived days were full of fun, frolic, family, friends, green pastures, blue hills, really good home-cooked food, Innovas and Taveras, gorgeous weather, splendeferous views, irresistible shopping deals, mosquito repellent creams, bites and spurts of creativity inspired by the Vampire Diaries, hours long uncomfortable seating wedging between three people at the back of a car or a rickshaw and more chocolate than I care to see again in my life.

My mom's bff, the lovely Mauritian forever bestowing upon me the most fantastic of gifts, flew down a couple of days later, hence the subject.

There was a day trip to Panchgani and Mahableshwar which included a ride on a cart drawn by a horse called Sharukh over Tableland. The rickety cart took us over every rock embedded in the soil almost throwing us all off and the air was consistently full of yells of 'Bhaisaab, Sharukh ko control main rakho!' or 'Behave, Sharukh!' It was hilarious. Oh and the guide was very informative; he showed us every single location of every scene of every movie right from the 60s to the recently released Dabangg ever shot in the picturesque hill station.

There was a quick visit to a few of the points - Parsi Point (why it's is a point baffles me), Kate's point, Arthur's Seat and Harrison's Folly. The name of the last one always raised curiosity on my part. Who on earth was Harrison and what was his folly? Why was it such a huge deal that a whole 'point' was named in memory of it? Questions to guides have remained fruitless, unless Harrison was a Bollywood actor who got into a scuffle with a fellow star while shooting and pushed him off the cliff, no local guide in Panchgani would be interested in his fate. No one can enlighten me on the nature of Harrison's foolishness let alone who he was. That's where Google returned that apparently 'Harrison's Folly is named after a Mr. Harrison who built a house there that caved in under the winds.' Well if that's the truth (doesn't seem likely, I doubt the winds were ever that strong in Panchgani), it's obvious the folly is related to trusting the scum of a builder who must have cheated our unsuspecting Mr. Harrison on the quality of materials used in construction of his home. Poor schmuck.

A view of the surrounding hills from Arthur's Seat, engulfed in an azure haze.

On our way to some such point, we spotted the only wild animal on our short trip, a gaur (seladang sounds so much cooler) that we, and a few other cars that came to a halt at the sight of it, tried to take pictures of unobtrusively.

A horse with a name such as Don or Veer (surprisingly there was no Rajnikanth), gets on his way after a drink.

A day later was the trip to Panshet (40 km or so from Pune). The sun burned down but the place was exquisite. We went for a boat ride on the lake, 'woohoooing' on sharp curves, spraying each other with the miniature waves that rose as we disturbed the stillness of the water.

On the way to Panshet.

In between, we somehow fitted in a concert of French artists by name of The Arties, performing Beethoven, Weber and Schumann (Weber's Grand Duo being especially beautiful and memorable). dinner at Hard Rock and another the next night at 11 East Street Cafe and a hell lot of shoe shopping where, JOY! I found a pair of gladiators in MY size! *dances a jig across the room*

The bff's last day was spent quickly touring South Bombay, with the mother briefing us on the buildings and locations we drove past, pointing out the heritage buildings and asking us take note of the once glorious architecture. The weather was FAN-FRIGGIN-TASTIC. Never has the sun taken refuge behind the clouds for so long and the wind blown so freely in this city..

Worli Seaface, where the sea usually raging and uncontrollable at high tide, lies still, biding its time.

And after stuffing our faces with doughnuts from M.O.D. with the family that night, she left. At times, not much was said, but there was no need for it, in light of a strengthening bond, coupled with a strange, unspoken tenderness.

So far, it's been a pretty good week. Minus the two days in the middle where I was plagued by a cold.

Sunday was the khandaan party at Vie lounge (located right by Juhu Beach). Bloody awesome. After the dancing and before we were thrown out at at about 2 am or earlier, it got a little quiet and one could hear the waves softly hitting the shore.

Last night, the cousins planned to go for a movie (Golmaal 3) which I was not keen on (a Bollywood comedy? I think not) but went anyway. The cousin bought the tickets and we walked into an English movie. Turned out the tickets were bought for M. Night Shyamalan's Devil and I heaved a huge sigh of relief at the thought of having got out of suffering through an obnoxious movie making pathetic stabs at humour, almost 3 hours long. I settled down.

So it wasn't really scary. One of the genres the film is listed under on imdb.com is Mystery. FYI to whoever did that, the name of the film kinda obliterated any chance of suspense or mystery.

Devil is about five people who get stuck in an elevator which is equipped with a camera and speaker, so security can watch the passengers and communicate with them, but for some reason cannot hear what the trapped people are saying.

Every 20 minutes or so, the lights go out and the elevator starts shaking, there's a lot of noise of scuffling and struggling, and then the lights are back, welcomed with screams and gasps as the camera focuses on the body of a murdered victim.

Atleast there's consistency. Apparently it's a remake of a Japanese horror 'Helevator' (tee hee!). Maybe the original is better?

Dinner at Dynasty followed and then the most heavenly milk chocolate doughnut at M.O.D.

Wayy too much chocolate. So when we got home, I wanted to take the stairs, NOT because I was traumatized of elevators, but I felt.. oh so full (I blame that doughnut). So I walked upto the 10th floor(15 to my aunt's), but the 11th floor onwards was plunged in darkness. That's where my heart failed. I took the lift for the next five floors. And my heart nearly gave out on me again. Nearly!

Had a FABULOUS shrimp cocktail at TGIF.. the shrimps were nothing to write home about but the 'cocktail' whipped up was utterly delectable. So was the bbq chicken salad.. and the sizzling chicken fajita..

This blog is beginning to sound like the Times Food Guide o_O

The past four nights (minus the two in between) have been all about uncontrollable laughter and really, REALLY good food.

Guess what? No really guess guess?

My bff's flight should arrive within the next 10 minutes! I'm so friggin' excited I just can't hold it in. Her flight was delayed by over two hours which means nobody slept the entire night and they're all snoozing now when it's time to leave for the airport. She's gonna text/call me when she's in immigration and I can't find my damn cell. I think my cousin is sleeping on it. Well we'll know soon enough when it starts ringing.. I hope it's not anywhere near her auditory receptors; that's not a pretty song to be rudely awakened to.

Update: SHE'S HERE!!

And my cell was under the sofa where my cousin kicked it.

relevant much?

I feel that.

Apollo riding back.

road guide.

(Recovered from drafts)

The 24 year old half Iranian was about to leave the shelter of the building, but caught sight of a raindrop and shrieked.

"It's raining!"

"No, it's just drizzling," I expostulated.

The skies decide to set free from their midst another drop of rain, right in front of the 24 year old half Iranian's noggin.

"Then it's drizzling heavily!'

The nakhras* I have to reason with. o_O

You need good judgement to meander down lanes in India. Especially in the rains.

If you've ever lived in Pune (or anywhere in India for that matter) and have ventured out on foot, you'll agree that the concept of a footpath or a sidewalk is a little hazy here. If it does exist, which is increasingly rare, it will be encroached upon by hawkers and the homeless, trees, bus stops, signposts to either inform citizens where they are or which politician's birthday it is or who they should vote for, or there's litter (more like two-week old garbage of half the neighbourhood) strewn over the unbecoming red and yellow tiles.

So where does judgement come into this? Let me elucidate.

It's 'drizzling heavily' (no really, it is). The sidewalk lies in front of you, sometimes impossible to walk on due to the thick overgrowth of impenetrable branches of trees or bougainvillea crying for a trim either on the sidewalk or on the other side of a wall running alongside it. To bypass it the road must be walked, not an easy task as the sides are full of puddles. Here's where the judgement comes in. You're considering leaping over a puddle but decide against it if your legs, like mine, aren't long enough and your pants, like mine (in this particular instance), are a little too nice to be muddied more than they already are. So you sidetrack it, the corner of your eye looking out for road hogs coming up from behind you. You dodge past cars and motorcycles, step over the front wheel of a rogue rickshaw, squeeze your way through bumper to bumper traffic. And if you must cross the road, Lord grant you patience and the ability to make a quick sprint before the multitude of cars that race toward you. But if your courage fails you at the last moment and you cower at the sight of the monstrous oncoming traffic with the occasional rally driving motorbike or car zipping through (they don't really care if you want to cross; they'll intentionally try to run you over if they can), then oh woe is you! For you are doomed to stand there till the end of time.

A couple of hours atleast.

Revelation for the day: If you indulge in chicken prepared the Indian way (read garam masala**) and head out for an intense yoga class ten minutes later, you will get heartburn. And die.

*dramatics

**A seasoning made by blending dry-roasted, ground spices, such as black pepper, cumin, cloves, and cardamom, used in the cooking of northern(?) India - answers.com (couldn't have put it better myself)

all a girl wants is a few dozen pairs of shoes..

So I bought this pair of shoes.

Such pretty shoesies!!

If you know me personally, or have read this, you are probably aware of the fact that I'm a descendant of Big Foot. Meaning I NEVER get my size. EVER.

Back to the shoes. I found my size! :D But they weren't on sale. And they were snug (they always are, so I've stopped considering that as an issue). And I loved them so much (as soon as they fit) I wanted to hug them to bed. A tad expensive but deciding I had a good deal anyway (did I not mention they fit!), I finished the last of my moolah on them and proudly put them on the next day for a bit of mall hopping.

Bad idea.

My feet are probably cursing the day they were adjoined to my ankles.. such is the pain. As I limped all over the mall, wanting nothing more than to throw them off and walk barefoot (which I have done in India by the way, it was in mojris at the time, but I couldn't muster enough courage to do it here), I saw three people handicapped in some way, either in a wheelchair or on crutches.. all within a span of ten minutes. Now some people may call it a sign, others a coincidence. I don't care much about either to decide what. But it was a bit odd.. here I was, purposely forcing excruciating, agonizing pain on my helpless feet that have never done me any wrong (except trip me up a few times), when these people did not even enjoy complete use of their legs, perhaps for a limited time, perhaps forever.

Just a thought.

Now I look towards those shoes with animosity.

I might have actually considered never wearing them again, if they weren't so darn pretty.

It was a good deal after all.

awaiting the next bestseller from Rajaa Alsanea

So I just finished Girls of Riyadh, a book I'd been dying to get my hands on ever since I read about the storm that broke when it was first published in Arabic years ago. And how gleeful I was when the English translation came out!

The Girls of Riyadh concentrates on the lives of four girls, who are like girls anywhere. They love shopping, dressing up, watching movies, gossip. They dream of true love, to live a life of security and respect, striking a balance with religion and modernity.

I must say though I thoroughly enjoyed the book, it was a bit exhausting to read about all the different guys taking the girls for a ride. You'd think all men were spineless bimbos. Why waste a woman's time when you know she doesn't fit your mother's criteria and you don't have the guts (I want to use a much stronger, more profane word but I shall refrain from it) to change the maternal mind? Why let a girl dream and raise her hopes when you only intend to bring them crashing down by being unable to offer her what she wants? Let live dammit!

What I really liked about the book were the little tidbits of Arab culture and language. I think it's important to learn something however small, from a book or a movie. Each chapter of the book begins with an enlightening quote varying from Arab singers and poets, televangelists, English writers, the Quran..

Did I forget to mention the book has a very Gossip Girl like feel to it (or the other way around I suppose since the it was first published in Arabic in 2005 and Gossip Girl is, as of now, just a little over 3 seasons old)? The story of the four girls is narrated through a series of weekly emails forwarded by their young friend(unknown to the reader) to every Saudi address she can find. And did I mention that these four girls are of the 'velvet' class of society? So reminiscent of the Upper East Side.

The book did a good job bringing to light that the prevailing psyche of the ultraconservative society doesn't necessarily reflect what Islam preaches . The dialogue however, could have been better. Or maybe it just doesn't have the same effect in English as it probably does in Arabic. The narrative description more than makes up for it. Especially the emotional upheavals and the bits about women eying other women and their attire jealously, tongues on the ready to slander. ('Women don't pretty themselves up for men: they do it to get back at other women.' - Sacha Guitry xD)

I'll end with a poem by Nizar Qabbani from the book:

If only I had known how very dangerous love was,

I wouldn't have loved

If only I had known how deep the sea was,

I wouldn't have set sail.

If only I had known my very own ending,

I wouldn't have begun.

musings.

In the city I call home*:

- Nariyal pani is the best drink around for a parched throat.

- Every rickshaw wala is out to get maximum wallet share.

- It's more trying to get into mba than to get through it.

- It's possible to love a wi fi connection more than your cellphone.

- There can be no adequate substitute for family.

- A rick will still take an extra 10 bucks to drop you to your destination even if it is on his way to home, simply coz he won't get any fare thereon to his. Truly infallible logic that I've grown tired of arguing with.

- You don't need company when you're in a store full of books with nothing but time on your hands.

- The rick will be stumped to argue if you show your fare calculation on your cell's calculator.

- My best Ramadan ever was the one during the Career Forum days, opening fasts in Brio, Crossword, with a chocolate croissant and a Calvin and Hobbes book to go with it.

- My olfactory receptors craved and smelled more often than not the aroma emanated by the rain hitting dry earth.

- You can have a hell lotta fun without spending a dime. Or a rupee.

- The retail scene out here is a joke but I'm not laughing.

- There are people out there who would go wayy out of their way for you.

- Just 'coz some restaurants are highly recommended, doesn't mean they're going to go down well with you.

- And if 'coz they're not, doesn't mean they won't.

- Turns out not all of the male species is immature.

- You canNOT hold the same expectations you've been used to in the Gulf (if you've lived in the Gulf). You're just going to have an atrocious time if you do.

- I found friends to enjoy the little things in life with and had a blast each time.

- You don't need fans atleast 6 months a year.

- Even if all good things do come to an end, it's not necessarily a bad thing.

- I'm still incapable of approaching people on my own just for the sake of making conversation. But this is changing.

- I'm also incapable of ever being on time for anything, be it a lecture or a movie.

- The view from my window has a serene effect after a spot of rain, when the foliage thrives.

- If you don't build tolerance of blatant grammatical errors on signboards, hoardings, fliers, shop windows etc, it's highly probable you'll lose your mind.

- Cornflakes is the only way to start the day. And sometimes, end it.

- Bugs cannot be avoided. Mosquitoes can, with Odomos. And if you do get bitten, a bit of hand sanitizer helps.

- A girl's handbag MUST carry the following: hand sanitizer, wet wipes (lots of them, 'coz as soon as you refresh yourself with one everyone else wants to too), chewing gum, hair clips, change for the rick (if you travel by rick) right down to one rupee coins, safety pins..

- Moms are always right. Pity we insist on realizing the hard way.

- Indifference, if nurtured consistently, helps in overcoming every emotional tumble without you coming out too badly.

- It's often that people comment on your weight loss as a conversation starter.

- Japanese animated films kick Disney's ass.

- I'm not as heartless as I thought I was or tried to be.

- Every bakery and cafe is clueless as to the true succulent taste of cheesecake.

- McDonalds' has the best equipped loos. Now Gold Adlabs (I refuse to call it 'Big Cinemas') does too.

- The cultural environment is one that I've never been exposed to before, making it an invaluable learning experience.

- Lived here four years now and I still sight a vegetable I've never seen before.

- There are only a handful of friends you never want to lose touch with and many more with which you can't wait to lose touch. In this case, Facebook is more often a bane than not.

- Too many people can't tell the difference between 'lose' and 'loose'.

- Time is of the essence so don't waste it preaching the difference between right and wrong to people who don't care to learn and are old enough to know better anyway.

- I've been told my train of thought somewhat resembles that of a guy's. Interesting statement.

- I have resigned myself to the fact that never will I find a pretty yet well fitting top in any Indian department store.

- Shopping from export surplus shops has a unique thrill. Especially when you pick up one of your favourite brands at less than quarter of the price.

- Some of the absolute best times I've had here are when friends or family have come down to stay.

- Every other season pales in comparison to the monsoon.

- My therapy to clear a boggled mind? An episode of Naruto Shippuuden. Provided it's not a filler. Even a Tom and Jerry (Fred Quimby ones).

- Fruit tastes better here for some odd, inexplicable reason.

- I never got to enjoy huddling in sweaters because of the inexplicably hot afternoons in the so-called winter months.

- Everytime I get home, I wash off atleast three layers of grime from my face.

- I never loved walking anywhere as much as here and it's an activity I never get tired of.

- No chocolate tastes better than Dairy Milk just rightly melted.

- No pizza tastes better than the Hawaiian Volcano at Papa John's.. now discontinued.

- No mocktail tastes better than the Sweet Sunrise at Hard Rock Cafe.. now discontinued.

- My hunger for classical music was fed by attending the concerts held by the Poona Music Society.

- The recent most fabulous memories I have of here are of Sundays, living the moment.

*Inspired by a particular bff's facebook notes :)

for Them.

With them,

I was myself,

I never found the need to withhold

I experienced and rediscovered old loves of things,

be it fine dining or stargazing, biryani or pani puri, world cinema or books,

even new,

like the deliciousness of ripe gooseberries,

and raw tamarind,

chasing butterflies,

stretching the limits of the imagination,

driving,

posing,

roaming streets,

ever ready for the unknown,

running on impulse,

free, no worries,

'hakuna matata' as the phrase goes.

There was a newfound confidence within me,

my ribcage was no longer under threat of succumbing to my heart's

incessant hammering when I faced a horde of people;

they encouraged me to write,

to participate,

partake,

share,

cry,

and more.

From them,

I learnt more about people,

even myself,

about the male and female psyche,

how each thinks,

and doesn't think,

how to save yourself from yourself,

the art of how much to say when,

the depth of emotions,

different cultures,

maintaining relations with people,

networking,

forgiveness,

letting go.

To them -

I pray that you accomplish everything you wish to achieve and more,

that you have fulfilling careers, rewarding lives

and remain the way you have been with me,

the sui generis that you are,

not allowing life's trials to embitter you,

but refine you.

And as the time to say dasvidaniya draws nearer,

regardless of whether we remain in touch till the end of our days,

do remember,

that I will always carry you all wherever I go.

last sunday.

Weekend getaway: Kalote Lake, Khopoli, Maharashtra

Joyfully reuniting with the family after eons - aunts, uncles, cousins, kayaking - setting out for unchartered lands only to be driven away by the frenzied barks of dumb animals as soon as our paddles touched the soil, the boat capsizing as another 120 kg of manflesh tried to get onto it, floaters depreciating beyond repair, getting thrashed by a merciless waterfall and emerging with backs bruised and battered, trekking with great care on moss covered rocks with bare feet crabs and tropical looking bugs and spiders accompanying us to the source of the waterfall only to be forced back by relentless agonized paternal yells, making the descent sitting on rocks having nightmarish visions of tights ripping at every 'sat', posing in the water, trying to catch roosters and chicks on the hike back, chasing guinea fowl at the resort with my adorable nephew whose energy levels would put to shame those of anyone who downed 20 cans of bull, kayaking again this time with more company only to have to wait in the boat barefoot (yet again) as neil armstrong set out to mark the land in his Vans, huddling together for a final picture, covered from head to toe with cuts, bruises and a (now) lovely tan that ends before it even reaches the clavicles, and at the end of it, none the worst for wear.

And as I lay in bed, I felt the strange sensation that I was still rocking in a kayak.

All in all, a good day.

Oh yes, a good day indeed. ^_^

A forgotten boat - Kalote Lake, Maharashtra

The waterfall!

The trek up on the rocks hidden behind the verdure.

A huge shoutout to everyone who was there.. YOU made it happen! :*

glimpses on the way home.

The view from the bridge. I stood still to take a couple of shots and suddenly got the sensation that the ground beneath my well worn sneakers was sinking, like the cement would give way any second.. it was an awesome feeling. I turned; a lorry was driving by. I traverse that bridge atleast twice daily and one day it's probably gonna collapse under the weight of those 'heavy vehicles', taking them all down with it to the murky waters below.

Don't be fooled. It's called the gutter of the city. The water's filthy.

The fascinating gap in the bridge, the fall below, paan thook and my Skechers.

No idea what these buds will blossom out into in a week or two.

Standing out..

purity and innocence.

The curving path.. in a park in KP.

All on the way home.

whatcha thinkin'? huh? HUH?

Today's issue of DNA After Hours had a teeny article - '10 thoughts we have every single day'. None of these has ever occurred to me.

1. Work should start later in the day.

Why? So it gets over even later?

2. Why is office coffee so bad yet so addictive?

Obviously because your taste buds have failed you.

3. Today I will diet.

Oh puh-leez. Nobody EVER says today. People live for today.

4. Why do they put round pizzas in square boxes?

So you can't toss 'em like frisbees.

5. My boss hates me and it's probably a personal vendetta and nothing to do with how much time I spend surfing the internet instead of working.

Ya think?

6. Why does my mum think that when I say 'bye' I'm actually saying 'talk more about unimportant things?'

Must be 'coz your brain has failed you too.

7. I wonder what Pune would be like without any traffic.

Then it wouldn't be Pune now would it?

8. Work should end earlier in the day.

First bright thought you've had all day.

9. Why isn't there ever anything good to watch on TV?

Coz you're too thick to think of reallocating the money you spend on cable to a top notch internet connection with unlimited downloading.

10. I shouldn't have had so much coffee today.

Probably. It doesn't seem to have done much for you.

Seriously? Is this what people think of EVERY SINGLE DAY?? Jesus!!

Two things that should have been topmost on that ridiculous list are so blatantly obvious, I can't believe the author didn't include them.

Wondering if:

- anyone called/messaged while you were getting some shut eye,

- you got any notifications on Facebook.

Tell me atleast 98% of the urban world doesn't think that and I'd say you were full of.. well you know. If you don't have a Facebook account, you're not part of the urban world anyway so you don't count.

Anyways, I gave it a thunk. What thoughts do I have every single day that others may or may not share besides the two just mentioned?

1. Why must every idiot on earth call on the landline or ring the doorbell on the same day and keep me from sleeping in peace?

2. I've already completed my mba you moron so quit sending me messages about your stupid masters' programs!

3. It's so pleasant and green out.. gonna miss the view.

4. Why won't those blasted pigeons find somebody else's balcony to excrete in! Darn them all to heck!

5. I wish every rick in Pune that tried to con some innocent law abiding citizen or tried to got slapped with a whopping big fine one morning by the RTO or the traffic police.

6. What shall I watch today? Anime? Movie? Documentary?

7. When will my blog exceed the set degrees of fabulousness and get me a follower I don't know?

8. Love love LOVE this wi fi connection.

9. I should so blog about that! Dayam, have I got it bad.

10. I must be cutting myself in my sleep 'coz I have no memory of how I got that o_O

Sooo.. Yeah, I think that's about all the redundant thoughts I have.

for those who've forgotten..

When was the last time you

slid down a slight inclined plane with a 'wheeeee!'?

didn't run for cover when it poured and just held your face up letting the raindrops caress your face?

danced when you heard your favourite song no matter the place?

ate watermelon straight to the rind?

balanced on a tilted sewer lid pretending you were skateboarding?

heard the satisfying *crunch* of dried up leaves as you stepped on them?

took in deep whiffs of the delicious aroma that emanates from when rain becomes one with scorched earth?

didn't take calls on your cellphone while having a conversation with a friend or a family member?

intentionally wore outrageously coloured footwear(think orange!) on a very sober outfit?

did an all nighter playing board games?

didn't worry about what disease you might pick up post mosquito bite and just let off steam calling it a lesbian or a horny bugger?

drank freshly squeezed orange juice?

spent a day not worrying/complaining/thinking about money?

let the wind ruffle your hair without getting mad about it?

ran for the heck of it? (a treadmill doesn't count)

didn't do a mental calorie count while scrutinizing a restaurant menu and just ordered and gorged 'coz you could?

sang in the shower without fretting over getting to work on time?

basked in the moonlight?

let the wild demon within loose not caring what people thought of you?

Well?

Fun doesn't always have to be paid for. Don't allow societal norms to BE the norm. Relearn how to take pleasure in the small things in life; don't allow your job to take over your life. Let your demon loose!* :D

*sing the exclamatory remark to the tune of 'Let My People Go' xD

dead peasants society

So I just watched Capitalism: A Love Story. A real shocker.

Ever come across the term 'Dead Peasants Insurance' (if you haven't watched Capitalism that is)? It's an insurance scheme in America where a company(many of them blue chip - P&G, Citibank, Disney, Walmart, Nestle, Bank of America are just some examples) secretly takes out a life insurance policy on an employee who is unaware of the same, 'conveniently' naming the company as the beneficiary in the event of the employee's death. And not even one of the top level management, in which case it would be understandable although not entirely inexcusable, given the cost of training a person to work effectively in a managerial position. This scheme would even cover, say, a salesperson at Walmart. So if he/she dies due to a critical illness, the family has to pay for astronomical medical expenses while the company makes a tidy profit. And the employee in their lifetime never even knew about it, forget giving their consent to it!

Get this: The company is entitled to receive the cash even if the employee was fired. TAX FREE death benefits. The family, of course, gets nothing.

What is the money used for? Incentives and retirement benefits for top level executives. So basically, the company is better off if the employee is dead. And it seems women are valued more as their longevity is more than that of men, resulting in more benefits. For the company that is.

How can the insurance companies not even examine the employees' medical reports before agreeing to this? Probably because 20% of all annual life insurance is comprised of COLI - corporate owned life insurance.

Walmart supposedly, as stated in the end credits of the film, doesn't take out this insurance anymore. That's just one corporate giant less.

Were you stunned when you read Disney's name in the list? You'd think a company that gave you so much entertainment coupled with moral messages (the more blatant ones) while you were growing up would live by the code it sends out. There was the ever present message in every classic - that good always triumphs over evil. You really expect a multi billion dollar corporation to live by the ideals it propagates? You naive thing.

Why would a company that announces well over a billion dollars of profit fall so despicably low for a few measly million? How much is ever enough? What's the point of all that money, it can't buy you self respect!

And how.. HOW the hell is this even legal?!?

On top of that, these people have the audacity to give it the name that they do. Dead Peasants?? Really??

Would corporations go as far as to bump off their insured employees? Perhaps that's stretching it a little. Companies have made complaints(internally of course) that the number of employees dying are not meeting expectations. But anyway you can't really get rid of thousands of employees unless you did a Nazi and locked them in a gas chamber, and then the legal system would be compelled to make known its existence. So they'll just bide their time hiding behind whatever loophole they've found, until the poor buggers eventually kick the bucket. And that's when the easy millions roll in.

Wonder if anything like this goes on in corporate India? Wouldn't put it past them. They're no angels here either.

it's raining.. men??

You can't be an Indian and not spell monsoon right. It's downright unpatriotic!

Pic: A flyer for a boutique that recently opened here.

dispelling myths about Ramadan

No, fasting is not difficult and we're not going to die.

We don't feel bad if you eat in front of us. There are usually mouth watering delicacies waiting for us to devour.

Of course, at times we do feel hungry. Self control is kinda the point. But after years of fasting the body is accustomed to it.

Self control, however, doesn't include only hunger, but also anger, practice of patience and abstinence. Thoughts should be pure, smoking is out of the question and language should not be tainted with swear words. For some, this is more challenging than keeping away from food.

Tiredness during the day can be attributed more to lack of sleep from praying the night before, rather than that of food.

Fasting is not harmful to your health. The over-indulgence that comes later is.

Stop expecting one to pass out any moment. They're not going to unless they're ailing, in which case they're excused from fasting anyway.

You're also excused if you're travelling.

You won't go to hell if you accidentally ate something.

Usually, a hell lot more weight is put on than lost.

One is supposed to go past the pangs of hunger and earthly desires and instead concentrate on bringing oneself closer to God. Fasting enables one to relate to the lesser privileged, creating more room for compassion.

In most Gulf countries, there's a rule enforced in this month that doesn't allow eating in public. It's a rule of the land, not the religion.

Just 'coz the fast is opened at sundown, doesn't entitle one to party the rest of the night.

In the Gulf, the general greeting on the onset of this month is 'Ramadan Kareem' which literally means 'Ramadan is generous' as it is a month that encourages charity and feeding and helping your fellow Man. The response to this is 'Allahu Akram', meaning 'God is even more generous.'

In the Gulf, the best time to test your new ride or to speed would be the hour or so elapsing after dusk. Not a cop in sight! ;)

dedicated to the soon to be 24 year old half Iranian.

Memories flash. Not necessarily in order.

The relief and joy of meeting someone who speaks my language.

That day we watched three heavy films back to back during the PIFF including that weird Finnish(was it?) one we couldn't understand the point of.

Sitting in your society garden or that day in Jogger's Park, gossiping about the debauchery of people I have never met or even knew existed before you mentioned them. So much fun xD

The numerous offerings of Fa deos I got to sample coz of you :P

The ease of correspondence when I was in q8 through a blessed medium by name of Facebook. Logging in and always expecting my inbox to be one msg fuller when I was there and never getting disappointed.

Popping by E-square after Dhruv to catch Cafe Settareh(I think?) and walking into that damn weird everlastingly long movie where that guy/girl kisses that dead guy/chick and he/she comes to life??

That iftaari where we got complimentary fruits! Yea yea sooo sweet of them.

Admonishing you for always answering with a lifeless 'Hello?' giving the impression that you're too shortsighted to see the caller id.

Our fabulous business plan that gonna set the world on faiyaaa!! ;)

Having Iranian roots in common :)

Always, always being able to rely on your wallet to get me out of a financial crunch.

Shopping excursions on MG Road. Funny, I can't recall ever buying anything.. except that piece of cotton for a kurta which turned out to be a complete disaster.

Cultivating and embellishing our conversations with newly learnt business jargon ;)

Struggling to drape that miserable sari and surrendering myself to you and your mom with usually just ten minutes to spare to wherever needs to be going to.

Turning to you whenever I needed help editing something, knowing your touches and

suggestions would render it fabulous.

Whispering conspicuously about Iranian guys when Iranian guys would happen to pass by ;)

Indulging at your favourite restaurant in East Street.. just twice! Financial and taste constraints making it difficult to visit more often.

ALWAYS exasperatedly having to hear your cribbing about walking up to the library even if we're on the same floor.

Automatically coming to the inevitable conclusion whenever we spotted a strange species of Man. 'He's Iranian!'

Studying/discussing/complaining about accounts, sqm, mis and of course transfer pricing that had us so agitated and all for no reason.

Acing French, knowing every damn thing in that text and brandishing it in class excitedly :D

Spending the first year sullenly accusing you of spending your weekends only with your other friends and the second year smug and triumphant coz I had replaced them. (If your friends are reading this, hard luck suckers!)

That amazing, hilarious, victorious expression you threw me during the mom exam when you got the paper, assuring me that we didn't study that whopping big answer in vain.

Being there for each other for the grueling mcs lectures.

Your word being the final word on every single restaurant in the city.. except Hard Rock. That's my zone :P

I may have been (alright I was) a lil weird at times and I'm sorry about that.

Truth is life got a little better after we became such firm friends.

And you've taught me a couple of things for which I'm grateful.

That it's ok to forgive.

If you take something up, put your heart (and sometimes your soul) into it.

That it's not beneath a person to be nice to people just for the heck of it.

And that being too nice can make one wonder which planet has this woman come from coz it sure as hell can't be earth.

and yes you're a superstar.

:* (right cheek)

:* (now left)

:* (right again)

and we're done.

Happy Birthday babydoll. May you be blessed with every happiness. I. A. SA. :)

getting the wise guys out

My lower jaw is two teeth lighter. Got my wisdom teeth extracted.

Saying it was painful is laughably naive. Since the extras decided not to grow out of my gums normally and to make life miserable for the other inhabitants of my jaw, they had to go. Surgically. Not easy believe you me. The left one was 'sleeping'. The audacity!

I've spent half my life at the dentist's so I have no qualms about getting my teeth fixed. When I was told I was to have a surgery I kinda looked forward to it. I didn't expect pain obviously 'coz of the anesthesia. I pictured my gums being incised. Slowly but surely, the dentist would 'dig' to the root and out would come the bugger..

This is how they extracted teeth in the 17th century (The Tooth extractor - Theodore Rombouts). I assure you nothing much has changed.

The right one came out nice and easy. The left one, on the other hand, was the rebellious teenager refusing to comply. It was then that the ginormous drill made a dramatic entry, the resounding vibrations almost shooting my brain straight out of my skull. It went on for a few minutes, the pain driving me crazy (yes I was under anesthesia, it was still hurting and NO it was not due to the pressure whatever the doc may say) and then the dentist pulled out my tooth and I inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. Correction. A fragment of my tooth. Back to the drill.. another fragment. Another ten minutes pass with me clawing at my palms in pain, the damn thing refusing to budge.. the dentist pulls with all his might and what happens? He loses his grip and the instrument, whatever the hell it was dashes against the roof of my mouth, scraping it and I think I would have toppled off the chair yelling if my tormentors hadn't grabbed my head telling me 'relax, it's nothing..' nothing? NOTHING?!?

Oh the pain! The ah-go-nee! The choicest profanities come to mind but I shalt not pollute the sanctity of my blog, for it is sacred. The medication has yet to take effect; I'm seriously considering taking a double dose. Or an overdose..

As it usually is in these cases, I can have lots of ice cream. So bought a box of chocolate flavoured from Naturals on the way home. When the ice melted all over my jeans I thrust the box against my cheek, the size of which is pretty close to that of the moon. Pity my entire jaw is still numb and I can barely get my mouth open.. I have to slurp it like a two year old resulting in the tablecloth becoming an unsightly mess. And after all that, it has more than a hint of blood in every spoonful.. Ugh!

On a happier note, was finally able to take the sibling for Despicable Me. Hilarious alright, but the climax was astonishingly straight out of your average Bollywood film. Full of lame cliches! Watch it and see if I'm wrong.

One of the girls: 'Wait! We can't sleep without a bedtime story!'

Gru: 'Then it's going to be a long night.'

In your face! xD

I love 'em mean.

unmasked

Just when you think you can no longer recall all those memories worth remembering or what it was that actually made them worth it, and you think maybe that mightn't be such a travesty, there comes a day that triggers it all. That reservoir once jogged unleashes a powerful surge of memories making you wonder how the hell could you ever have let yourself forget those awesome times and how complete they made you feel in the first place.

This was the day that triggered it.

Whether it was avoiding dung(buffalo or human who really knows) or trying to push each other into it(and successfully without knowing it), discovering and following a kind of bird that resembled a crow but with more elan, taunting each other, vowing solemnly never to fall in front of particular people and stumbling (twice) in front of those people, laughing at asinine remarks, taking in the breathtaking view from the point we were at, feeling the wind in my face making me feel more alive, mocking the 'leader', the endless arguments (the only one that stands out being the one over UNO rules), finding me a rick (always an irksome experience especially for them) or that conversation making an attempt at the philosophical.. exuberance as B^2 put it, exuded every step of the way.

It made me remember. And realize what I've been missing out on. And that I still care. I really do.

Note to self: keep laptops fully charged on loadshedding days to avoid walking from room to room biting fingertips, racking your brains trying to think of something to do, eyes too tired to read but not enough to sleep.

So Vodafone messaged they had a special offer for me and I had to 'hurry and call 123 for more details.' Bored and the loyal customer that I am, I dialed and waited - 1 for Hindi, 2 for Marathi and then.. silence. What happened to English dude?!? You know, that language you texted me in?? Do you expect your entire customer base existing and potential to comprise of only localites in a cosmopolitan city such as this?

As I am now finally on par with Gossip Girl and needed to get my mind off the hedonistic Chuck Bass, I started Shogun. Apart from the excruciatingly slow first 40 minutes (which was the case with the book as well), the minute Rodrigo-san (bungling ole John Rhys Davies) enters, traipsing about mocking bows to the samurai, concealing insults in English to the 'bloody samas' in his poor Japanese, the entire mood lightens. Still too early to judge; it's a friggin' long series with a single episode lasting a little under 2.5 hours.

Spent the past two evenings with the sibling, wandering about in the inner lanes of KP, throwing admiring glances at the lovely villas, some gardens with lawns manicured while others with unkempt grasses running wild, creeper climbing through the cracks of walls with no restraint. All adding to the character of the place.

of birthdays and broken glasses

Revelation for the day?

Before smashing cake on someone's face, make sure your victim is de-spectacled first. The outcome might put a damper on cheerful proceedings.

the long and winding queue

My spirits sank as I saw the mile long queue snaking around the building. With a heavy heart, I joined it. Atleast it wasn't raining.

Queues are great equalizers. If they're positioned in front of Pune University that is. No matter whether you've slogged in engineering or breezed through commerce, an under grad or post, how fabulous/pathetic your college is or how great your institute's placement scene is (or isn't) if your institution(aren't they all that) is affiliated to the city's university you have to stand in that damned queue for a minimum 2.5 hours with some 5000 people in front of you if you want that scrap of paper called a degree certificate to mark the end of youth and the end of the torturous existence of being a student. Unless of course you've got a jobless friend(baqra imo) who's willing to stand in line for you coz you've got way better things to do with your precious hours.

I didn't.

Shogun FINALLY downloaded! Been waiting for someone to put up the series for two years now. Watched the first episode of Pillars of the Earth last night. I haven't read the book though it's been strongly recommended to me. I tried alright! I couldn't go past the first page so I have no idea whether the series is faithful. But it does hold promise even if it is full of the usual Middle Ages England cliches - fight over throne, political instability, Church thirsting for power and manipulating for the same, scheming gentry, starving commoners, bitter winter.. same old same old. It's a bit reminiscent of Shogun (the book) surprisingly.

Glad I have some good stuff to look forward to. Gossip Girl was numbing my brain.

Today's revelation: It's painful to have pistachios if your nails are clipped short. Real short.

there and back again.

So I got home yesterday and ecstatically reunited with my laptop and internet connection. It's like the keys embraced my fingertips..

I'll miss the time spent in Bombay though. The nightly banter that would carry on well into the wee hours of the morning, the hypnagogic afternoons that followed, the sporadic trips downtown of which the ambulatory exploration of Colaba causeway stands out distinctly - the countless stalls selling items such as tees with weird slogans, wannabe antique curios (fish and turtle shaped gold locks over which I freaked), Cafe

Mondegar(be a dear and forgive the terrible pic, courtesy my cellphone) and the illustrations canvassing its walls(and the pitchers, and the mugs..) had me fascinated the whole time we were there. And then of course, there was the drive down the sea link.. FINALLY! After years of longing and anticipation, watching it stand there, incomplete, I was finally seeing the city from the other side..! Spectacular ride by nightfall.

And how could I forget that lunch at JW? The mirth that the repartee was full of, the lame pictures, the drooling over the cakes and the lesson that I will never learn, to hell with the main course - keep room for dessert!

Back to here.

I read Animal Farm last night. About time or so my aunt let on. Disturbing how easily the wretched animals are misled, made to believe that what they are doing is for their own good. It's an allegory of the communist regime in the Soviet Union but can apply pretty much to disguised dictatorships prevalent today. How much of what we see on the news is actually the truth or just a fabrication of the same or what the politicians want us to think? How much do we unconsciously absorb believing it's the truth getting brainwashed instead? For that matter, how could you tell you were being told blatant lies? People put their faith in strangers, trusting them to better their world. Why would you trust a stranger so implicitly? When your own can deceive you?

dedicated to the first fan.

I started this blog with the intention that I'm doing this to find an outlet for my creativity, to develop my own style so no matter if there are no takers for it. Then, a few minutes back, I saw my first follower. The excitement was too great. Names I shalt not take to protect the privacy of my dear friend. Of course it doesn't help that the follower has had the good sense(not!) to use her own name to sign in. But it also feels good that the unimaginative twat liked what she read :)

How dearly I do love thee, o unimaginative twat! You made my day!

Finally hit the bookstore yesterday with the intention to buy, not browse. and hoo boy, did I buy! Completely ravaged the classics section! Mark Twain, George Orwell, Tolstoy and a weird book that I bought on impulse, the summary of which seemed mind-boggling at the time - The Language Instinct. Wonder if it's any good. Oh and the sequel to Three Men in a Boat - Three Men on the Bummel! This is THE ONE. The ultimate. I harbour sky scraping hopes for this one. Which does not seem unwise, as the facetious misadventures (past and present as mentioned in the book) the characters get tangled up in the first are so side splittingly priceless, their arguments over various matters so unbelievably ludicrous, you feel sorry the three reach the end of their journey. Jerome K Jerome has a true flair for descriptive and humourous writing.

As of now, I'm impatiently waiting for a day when I'm not bone-tired to read at leisure, in peace, and the earth is still..

try this on for size

A heartbreak over a break up is overrated.

You want to know what true heartbreak is?

How about never being able to wear gorgeous shoes 'coz you're cursed till the end of your days with feet the size of split a/cs? Watching bimbos you dislike(or even your friends for that matter) flaunt them in your face? Snubbed by
salesmen who take one glance at your feet and inform you patronizingly that 'madam yeh aapko fit nahi hoga!' (Madam this won't fit you!)

After a point, the fury just gives way to despair and then dejection. I lost all hope of ever finding even a decent, forget dazzling pair to adorn my abnormally wide feet with. Finally coming to terms with fate, I tearfully said goodbye to the images of the wedges, mojris, stilettos, gladiators, pumps, boots, even bedroom slippers that were swimming in my mind. All because my ancestry could probably be traced to the Abominable Snowman.

But sometimes, there is justice.

Like the sinfully attractive red suede shoes from M&S that the world goes gaga over. *content sigh*

Or colourful ballerinas from some shop in linking road. The salesman assured me that they'd open up when i remarked it was a snug fit. A bit too snug. But well worth the initial shoe bites! If the shoe fits even remotely.. shut up and buy it!

*another content sigh*

There must be others out there like me right? If there can be plus sizes for clothes why not for shoes? This is a niche market that needs its share of attention. Someone pay heed!

The younger sibling fell ill last night. High fever, regurgitations and if that wasn't enough, she fainted while getting into the elevator and gave my mom a near heart attack, her high pitched screams probably sending the dead into shock. Got the sibling admitted, my poor dear mother needing hospitalization more in my opinion.

One thing I miss back home is the family. The loving aunts, the jovial uncles, the sporting cousins. I don't think we realize how soothing it is to be able to count on them sometimes instead of always having to go it on our own. And when we shift base once again, it's going to be hard.

Back to the clinic. My sister was put on the drip and was asleep. My mother, frantic with worry, desperately whispering to me that she would not survive if the blood test results gave proof of the diseases going around by those dratted insects, left to obtain the same. After almost 20 hours of barely any sleep passing the night trying to get her fever down, I settled my abused self onto one of those office chairs in the counselling room, the back rest reclining quite decently, kicking my feet up on another chair and declaring myself dead to the world around me. There were glimpses of faces throwing me peculiar stares from the waiting area for an hour or so, until a nurse had the good sense to close the door, and then, I was gone. Head lolling, I was rudely awakened an hour later to clear out, to make way for the doctor. I forgot to mention I was dozing in her office.

The sibling's made a quick recovery by the way. So has mommy dearest. Either of her daughters falling ill is more of a risk to her life than ours. So much melodrama.

But, all's well :)

a new beginning.

So.. here it is.

The First.

Finally.

After months of facing a crippling writer's block just coming up with the name. The NAME! and even then what made it wasn't my idea. Oh, woe is me!

As of now, I have no clear idea what I would like this blog to be about. I intend to go with the flow. To put you at ease, I swear never to use that taboo word, 'random'. *shudders and prays that her cognitive process never gets that debilitated*

I love watching trailers. LOVE. I enjoy that almost as much as reading Oscar Wilde witticisms, while marvelling at his ingenuity. I think that particular genre (if you may) of men is extinct. The thought, however, of meeting a man like that is quite intimidating.

I absolutely abhor the television. Or, to be more precise the incessant noise that MUST occur in every single household in three different rooms, simultaneously. Don't get me wrong I love movies. I like ads. But I loathe the absurd Indian ones though with the doting mother/wife preparing dishes or ready to eat meals for her wise mouth kids/seemingly devoted husband. And there is a desperate need for a synonym for the heavily overused word 'kitaano'. And don't get me started on the serials. How do those screenwriters get away so damn easily with their lack of inspiration by covering it with 10 shots of every conceivable actor of every single actor in the serial, zooming in of course, complete with dramatic music. and then there's the close allowing the writer more time to come up with another ridiculous plot. dhadham dhadham dhadham..

I don't understand why people can't function without that cursed box blaring in the background even if they're not watching it or have guests over. Get your eyes off the screen already! It's like their lives depend on it. I prefer choosing what I want to watch, when I want to watch it at my leisure. Which is why I have a TV but no cable. Most people's first reaction is eyes widening coupled with 'How do you survive?' I can't believe how starved people are for entertainment. People generally spend more time flipping channels than watching one!

But enough about that.

In Bombay!! *continues typing gleefully*

One of my favourite sounds is that of a vacuum sucking up crumbs. There's something immensely satisfying about the way they clatter against the inside of the metal pipe post suck-up.

This has been in drafts for days now. I was on a roll when I started. After wondering for days what on earth I was going to begin with, the creative juices were finally flowing. I wish I had started this a couple of years back at the brink of my master's. Like Betty tells Mark *all happy happy*, 'I started a blog!' and Mark replies, 'Oh great, welcome to fifty years ago!'

I love being in Bombay. *satisfied sigh* The only impediment on my path to absolute contentment is the skies turning out. Need fresh air! *gasp*

It's so rare to meet genial people especially in the material city that this is and so heartening when you do. I can hardly count the few that I've had the good fortune to cross paths with.

Roald Dahl, in The Twits, wrote something I'll never forget - that a plain person will look appealing if he/she has pleasant thoughts but even beautiful people will look ugly if their thoughts are horrid. Your face reflects what you think.

So peeps, think happy, look pretty. How flippin' gay o_O

On that note, I bid you, adieu.