Trek a break..

I suffer from itchy feet all the time; it has become part of me, sort of an eczema which never cures. I don’t want to find a cure, I kinda enjoy the itch…(umm more you itch more pleasure you derive out of it, I am getting naughty here!). And I love itching..err my itchy feet. And now I am into etching…what?

Intrigued? So, read on…

I am sure you will wonder what brought her back to blogspot on 31st December when she had already written her last post of the year and vouched for a very-busy day-and-night on New Year eve. I surely shall explain - I do owe an explanation, especially when I deviate from my plan and write another post (which also means asking you to read/review it when it was unanticipated). So, I must explain, I better without mincing any more words…

So you must know what brought me here tonight ‘ignoring’ my New Year eve activities (I actually got home early and all my meetings went on well, so no worries! ‘She is exaggerating’) and preparation for my dad’s birthday (this one is real) as I found very interesting inspiration in this and this (really nice stuff!!). And they brought me back to my beloved blogspot. And I don’t seem to be complaining. Why, you wonder….hmmm

Coming back to itching and etching…I mean writing about this thing surely can satiate my itchy feet syndrome. I already find myself dreaming about a holiday in the forest of Borneo, in the serene environs of Malaysia, amidst the monks chanting Buddhist hymns in Cambodia and….and…and the list goes on. I really wish to land up in a beautiful place for my next holiday. I surely deserve a great holiday….don’t you know?


And I can’t tell you how itchy my feet are now; I have to get into travel mode soon.


Looking forward to a great year full of exciting trips, vacations, and a lot more travel writing. And I want to feel the itch err.. I am ‘itching’ to win this one.


Trek a break or shall I say, 'break a leg'!!

One more year and another…

I am at half century… Umm…I managed to score a 50. Well, I am talking about number of posts this year. One post per week on an average if you want more analysis… (he he).

Its kinda year end stock taking! Its stats, my dear, hard facts and numbers…

Not bad, I murmur…given all the nomadic existence err experiences, mood swings... (Umm, actually these are rather high-yielding times, so discount that!), other time consuming activities (read: my apartment and things associated with that) erratic behavior (read: last minute plans for movies, parties and meeting with friends on a short notice and such things). Well, no bragging, but honestly I am happy at my regular relationship with this blogspot.

This year made a mark for many reasons, for good reasons and bad.

For my little world 2008 would be a milestone, as I bought myself an apartment which I call my home. I am also happy for my trips to 25 cities and three countries this year despite not-so-good economic situation. I am happy to meet some of my old friends when they visited me. I am thankful to all who hosted me in different places this year for making my time memorable and safe. I am very happy as Mr. Obama could head for the US President’s chair on 20 January (I really am a BIG admirer of Obama!)

2008 was also a damper of sorts for global and local economy, many would not want to remember 2008 and would avoid its mention in case it re-visits (such superstitions!). Terrorism (read: cross border terrorism) was at its height in India and five major cities were attacked in 2008 causing loss of lives, property and not to mention peace. It was really B-A-D, they had a B.A.D plan to hit Bangalore-Ahmedabad-Delhi but they also went beyond their plan and added Jaipur (looks like they pre-tested their method here?) and Mumbai. Mumbai incident saw the largest casualty and maximum involvement of forces (Army, anti-terrorist squad, Mumbai police, Maharashtra police and not to mention the commandos from special security forces). And this one led to massive nation-wide awareness campaigns which has brought people of India together to fight against terrorism and made all of us stand in unity with a hope for a peaceful and democratic system tomorrow. Let’s hope for a better time in 2009.

And this one will be the last one in 2008’s slot.

I decided to punch in this one today with advance new year wishes looking at my schedule on 31st December when I will be hopping from one airport to another, talking about statistics, preparing for e.ee…egg-(and)–jams…ha ha ha exams (or taking one, not sure, lets see) and juggle in some ‘friendly’ meetings (no partying, no plans so far). I surely have a busy day-and-night tomorrow. I will tell you how I fare. So, see you next year then :)

So, here’s wishing all of you a very happy, peaceful, prosperous, fulfilling NEW YEAR. Happy New Year folks!!

Now I really want some nice food and some……do I need to tell you that also?

Corner Kick!

Ummm…so much is happening around her and she heard her muttering whether someone up there is listening to what she has been thinking…and she wonders. Well, not that she is complaining!

There is a saying ‘When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going!’. Whatever you derive out of it and wherever you come from and however you wish to read it, it actually best describes her current state. No worries, dude. She has seen these, been there and done these many times over. Now you wonder what? And she says nothing for you here.

Just a sort of example to elucidate what all these gibberish happening so far:

She is having a free time, (taken a break that is, for all you sophisticated souls). She is feeling the cool air and sniffing the soot that comes free with it sitting in the open in a posh coffee shop. She is planning to have yummy cup cakes they make in Flurys and sing Christmas carol at St Xavier’s next door. She is unpacking her old baggage in disbelief and discovering those ‘new’ shopping from 2005 from another shore. She is amazed to find how tall he can be when this hunk from Nordic took her for a traditional lunch which made her forget her own height in shock (even she forgot to stand next to him, such embarrassing moment!). She was thinking about a particular dish, just a casual thought, she was suppose to prepare under guidance (the guide went missing!) and returns to her base to find the lady in the kitchen tossing the same recipe (a variant of sorts, though). She goes out for a meeting, a more formal one and discovers her own follies and others follies too. And she goes about twinkling eyes, (hmmm..lilting music there), with a jump in her stride. The Levis from Mexico just fits her fine even now…wow!

Still she is continuing and she is wanting to do ‘this and that’ (she remembers him say ‘this and that’ on phone from across the border) amidst of all this madness - a kind of schizophrenic situation by the river. And the gentleman from the bay was right, that was her schizophrenic moment!

Then comes a realization, something so crucial dawns on her. So how far will you go? And she says ‘all the corners of the globe’. It keeps her going. And that gives her a kick!

Are there any corners, world is a round place, isn’t it? And more so, even flat, he he…

Missing Link

I am missing my Mr Globe (you know who I am talking about, don’t you?). No, I am not talking about any variant of Mr World or anything of that sort. He is the one who sends me to the globe to check where on earth he is located every time we communicate.

Yes, he is a globe trotter of sorts. I have a nick-name for him (it’s just for me, so you don’t say, ok?). I call him ‘Lonely Planet’ (good naturedly, I say giggling!!).

I realized that he has not been up and kicking for past few weeks and that he has been recuperating from a nasty infection. I was amazed at the ease with which he actually described that; I have seen/heard men not describing much about their illnesses. One of my researches on masculinity did trace why ‘they’ do that. Oops, you got me talking about my work on my blog, yikes! No complains….you better know what do I do for my living err….for my .nomadic existence, or better even, what makes my life so nomadic (the other day the hunk err the Prof from Uppsala called me vagabond much to my dislike, though. I gave him a benefit of doubt considering the amount of English communication in the university town of Uppsala…here goes…oops ‘shala’!!). Anyway…I move on…

I wish LP a quick recovery; want to see him up and kicking. I really do. More so with a selfish motive, since he had not read my blogposts for many weeks now, and I had not heard him discussing them.

So, get up, get going and start reading and let me hear your comments and how you like them. Ooops, such stern female this one, no mercy at all..he he.

Quote-Unquote

"It's a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it" - W. Somerset Maugham

Why Lie?

It was strange, I will say very strange.

I was in a meeting with someone who is not a stranger and yet not a celebrity but so much is known about him (may be he did not know that). And during the course of interaction I did ask him not-so-important questions which he very promptly answered. I repeated the answers since I had heard before (and known) something completely different so that he gets a chance to correct himself. Yet he repeated the same response. Hmmm, I wondered and stopped still looking eye-to-eye with him. I did see a slight hint of discomfort. Well....

I wonder why people lie about little things in life, when so much more is already known about them (thanks to websites, authentic ones at that) and especially when its about mundane things as trivial as which school one attended and from which University/city one graduated. I cannot understand what makes people cringe and not say the name of the university if its a small town? Why people are so insecure and hierarchical? I would like to think one needs to stand by these little facts of their lives, or else one will always run for cover under a Gucci dress or an Armani suit to feel great. Life is about being honest. Life is about acknowledging who we are; where we came from. Its our habit of hiding such trivial facts makes these issues so-very important to us, have you ever wondered that? Its we who first value-judge a thing before others do.

Sir, just so you know its an utter shame for a person like you to suffer from such insecurities as after doing so well and achieved what all you have so far you should have felt proud to mention your alma mater and the city you came from. Or else you should not have mentioned them in your bio or better even went to another school and re-done your degree.

Well, at the end of the day, you are a liar for me even if you stand tall among people but you score quite low on my list.

Me(N)merizing…

I wonder what make men meet another woman….

I have no problem with friendships with men, with their chivalrous gestures. But I am talking about special attentions from men which are uncalled for, do you get it?

I am talking about those thin lines between mischievous and flirtatious pokes and those disgusting, very suggestive activities. I am talking about when much married men try their hands on other women. And I ask what make these men take interest in another woman? Hmmm…really a good question when we see number of application for separation and divorce is going north in geometric proportion, and we hear stories of bad marriages and ‘caught him red handed’ tales from our female friends and colleagues.

Sometimes, I think twice before I plan to attend a get together at my married friend’s place. Well, I take care, you know. I have seen myself. I have experienced myself how my very confident female friend found herself in a not-so-great situation and how she did not feel confident about it. And I didn’t feel great about it either; not comfortable in such company when my idea of attending such functions or get-together is spoiled.

I do not go to these get-together with an intention to score a point over any of my married female friends with their husbands wearing lecherous hats. I am chirpy, friendly, extrovert, I have confidence to strike up a conversation in a gathering, and I have self respect. And I do look good sans cellulite! These definitely make me look attractive on any day of solar calendar! And most importantly, I really DO believe these are not reasons for a man to stray and forget his vows he had once pronounced when he took that holy bow.

Well friends, it’s disgusting. I hope my friends read this and know how I feel about all these. And why sometimes I am so choosy about who all are coming to a party, you know?

Hmmm…. Give me a break from double standards, lecherous men, ‘good-husband-trying-on-their-wife’s-friends’. Just know that I have friends (both male and female) who can give me good company, respect and great time. And another thing, I like my company to a hilt, so, you don’t have to worry even if I am single and looking. It is to say I am not looking at you. So, stay away and let me walk my way. Got me?

Writing on the wall…

We like to see grass greener on the other side. Can we beat that? I got that feeling just a few while ago when an acquaintance sent me a similar sounding appreciation on the chat window. Oh-hell, ma’am, I am just not doing as great you ‘always’ think I do.

So, how are you doing today? Hmmm…I.A.S…
I.A.S? How do you read it? Let’s see how we read that.

(1) The most appropriate and common response for an Indian would be ‘Indian Administrative Service’. Well, you got it correct and scored a point there. And it shows you are intelligent, well-tuned, and may be ‘happy’. Really? Does it help?

(2) It can read as I am Sad. Yes, I am sad now, so, I am in I.A.S mode. Can you be happy and partying away when you are sitting on a time bomb and especially when you don’t know when that’s timed? Do you get me? Well…..
I hear how my friends escaped the terror attack in Mumbai. I still can’t forget the sentence when one of my friends said “I was so relieved to see my baby’s face the next morning”. Why does anyone want to live in terror? I would not, you would not. Then why still we are allowing it to creep in and leading this life counting for our turns? Have you ever wondered how it is to wave a goodbye to your young ones on your way to work; you never know that could be the very last time you saw each other.
I am not saying we are all immortal otherwise, we are not. But this terrorism is really making our lives hell. No one wants to live in terror, shock, fear. We all want to live a normal life free from all these cheap thrills. Can we all join hands and say ‘our lives are not for ransom’?

(3) It can also read I am Safe. Wish we all wherever we are in the world can say this without any fear one day.

Terrorism has to stop and no matter what our politicians have to shell out from their brains or pockets, no matter what it takes terrorism should be shown the door. Do we have any one in Indian polity to take charge, to come in front and lead and show us the way?

For post script I have today’s story: Its election time in Delhi. I was supposed to vote today for Delhi state legislature to elect our next Chief Minister. And guess what? I don’t have my name in the voter’s list!! I called up the office of local legislator and explained my scene. I am not a new voter (I have been voting since I turned 18); I am not a new resident in this residential area. I am a citizen of state of Delhi, and most importantly I want to vote. I have all the credentials to exercise my right when I was told to turn back and go home. And my local legislator told me he could not help me cast my vote today. And this is just when my American friend sitting in Mysore could vote for Obama? So, why is that? And we say we are the biggest democracy on the face of this earth. I still wonder!

Um, I told you ma’am, life is not always flying as you think. It does take nosedives sometimes.

Taken for ransom?

Its a pity how terrorism is taking our lives for ransom. I would like to wish that we all come together and fight this menace. We need to tell 'them' that this has to stop. We need to strengthen our combat system against terrorism along with more public awareness and vigilance. We, as citizens just cant turn back and have that 'business as usual' attitude.

We need to learn from the past. Delhi rocked with serial bomb blasts two months ago and now innocent people are held hostages in hotels in Mumbai. Do we need more examples to learn and fight these?

And if you look into the coverage of Mumbai episode its like war, army is in, special forces are in to comb them out of hotels? Why did we wait to make 'them' so strong? Our lives are not for ransom; we just cannot put more lives on the firing line for 'these' terrorists. Our men in uniform and citizen don't deserve these. Any thought on that?

I can ‘DIY’ for it

Picture this: Evening time on Saturday, nice cold wind playing with soft silky curtains on my bedroom door, dimly lit rooms and I am admiring my silhouette on balcony walls as I try to explain how I have this throaty voice as an old buddy throws an alarm in the air thinking I was down hearing my voice on phone.

Nah! I am rather all perked up and rearing to go..... I am set for some crowd at my place after doing up the place. Well, more than that actually. Hmmm…

A mere mention about my place gets a dancer’s swirl in his voice (gawd, this man knows how to shake his booty, I swear!) and he wants to land up here in a jiffy from the land of four squares err…pillars. He is in all wonders and wants to know how come I am all so smitten and engaged with this place and how beautiful it must be that I have been revamping/renovating ever since I have acquired.

I say: some things just know how to get attention, don’t you know?

Well dude, this is for you: just to say my place is an ordinary place and I am keeping it all spruced up with my imagination from time to time with some innovation. But don’t rate it as anything great. It’s my sweet li’l pad and I loooooove it. So, that’s the reason in all probability it’s mentioned more often in my conversations.

I just wish you to visit without any major expectations and believe me I am not in a mood to show off my place or readying it for any home-décor magazine shoot. (Ahhh, I have to take pictures anyway, just reminded of a request of other friends, tsk tsk!! Chris and Rikke, this is for you as well). What I can assure you are nice food (hand made, home cooked by one-and-only ‘me’) and comfortable stay if you wish to spend time over some movie and drinks. And when you do visit and spend some time around and seen things with your ‘critical’ eyes I would like to know what you think about the place you have been hearing from me all these months. Fair enough.

Now some update from what kept me so busy last week if you did not hear much from me after I returned from the hills.

I just completed adding a nice 'closet cum bookshelf cum dressing cabinet' complete with mirror (I for some reason find it rather sexy!) and I am really happy with it as its not only my design but I single handedly gotten this job done without much splurging (my wise brother commented) with generous helping of a smart carpenter (he is getting more work at my place if I plan to add another furniture in future).

What next? A luncheon party? Some cozy time with movies on my sexy home theatre? Another renovation? Hmmm…

I am heading for bath…err bathroom, it needs a make-over I feel. Let’s see, how my planning goes around the bathroom. I will keep wondering till some nice brainwave strikes and I know for sure that’s the right design (I have already started with some sketches). I will wait for my ‘eureka’ moment. And till then keep guessing: what I am ‘DIY-ing’ for.

P.S: Just a piece of query: does anyone know of any website about home renovation, especially bathroom fixtures etc? I am quite a regular with ApartmentTherapy, want to know any other nice website/s. Thanks!

Blissful and High

Its sheer bliss, truly!

Picture this: 3000 meters above sea level, 0-5 degC, amidst tall pine trees, monks and monkeys (no joking). Its peaceful and amazingly quiet. And I was blissfully disconnected: no mobile, no wi-fi, no Internet connection on my laptop (Indian telecom network has spared this village), no cameras, and no writing materials (these were intentional…hmm…what?). My wrist watch was the ‘only’ thing which told me the time and the date and somewhat kept me oriented.

I was with my body and my mind, truly. Just the way I am to the core.

Yes, I just returned from a fabulous trip from the foothills of the Himalayas. It was planned just so when the time was perfect: winter is slowly setting in and when my mind was in the verge of a ‘shut-down’ and such a ‘me-time’ was the need of the hour.

Hmmm..that was it and I found myself in that dreamy village.

Really a dream come true and this nomad never had such an exotic experience ever in her life. She stayed in a little asbestos-roofed hut with just a cot with a thin mattress and a few sheets of blankets and quilts; where she ate one meal a day, bathed and washed in water, just water and not hot water. And most importantly, she spent all these days only hearing sounds from the nature. It was complete silence for her.

First, I had no one to speak to. No chatting with neighbors. I could hear bells ringing in a nearby school at some time of the day; some times I would hear sound of drums from distance presumably from a marriage procession from the nearby village; or some sudden chaos from the monkey family which also lived with me on that hilly terrain; or some random drops on the asbestos when those pine cones fell on my roof which I collected dutifully at the day break (such collections!). Few other sounds I got familiar with were of a hoarsely croaking crow and barks of a very strange looking dog (he looked diseased for some reason; his color looked abnormal and so was his snout).

I was so connected with myself that I knew how it feels when I breathe in and whats the sensation like. Spending time on the lap of nature rejuvenated me, brought some divine serenity around me, in my steps, the way I walked, went about trekking up and down five hours a day. And at the end I only feel blessed.

I was so much in love with my ‘holy-day’ that I almost felt like extending my stay. I was not missing anything in particular (I only felt the need to know about Obama and a family thing which was planned at the last minute when I was all set for this exotic trip. I remember chalking out how to spend the last day in the hills before I started my descent: which food I will have; Tibetan or Israeli. And after descending down from the hills on my way to the next town I knew my brother is a happy man and Obama got his chair!! Wow…I say: a double wow!!

And ever since I am back I have been ‘prescribing’ this holy-day to all my friends and family. And I am waiting for my turn next year.

I say its blissful time at the top. Blissful and high at the height!

P.S: This picture is a copyright material. Solna ®.

Quote-Unquote

"As above, so below. As within, so without."

-The Emerald Tablet, circa 3000 BC

Silence Please

I don’t know how many have taken a boat ride; I mean the boat I am on.

Some times it’s hard to tell your own self that no matter what all others are saying you are what you are. I mean, you kinda know yourself by now, is not it?

Critical comments or those heart breaking/demoralizing blows should not affect one. Because you know what you are. And then you are a strong person.

Are we really so strong?

At least I believe so. I am my own person; I have my own convictions; I do what I want to do; I tread a path I fancy; I pursue what I dream what can be unthinkable for some. Well, that’s me. I don’t have to be you.

Looks like a tough cookie. Well, she too can have a low.

And to be honest with myself I do get affected; I do feel weak. And sometimes I shout out loud in my head to cut that side off me. But those words/comments/sarcasm/questions do dent my ego, shake my beliefs about me.

And I question: Do you really understand me? Do you really care for me?

I feel our opinion makes us what we are. We can be critical, opinionated in our ways. But have you ever wondered what criticism brings to another. Here I am not talking about critical comments or constructive criticism; but those of scathing variety where you literally don’t stand a chance; you don’t feel like opening your mouth. It sounds so illogical, so full of ignorance but there are those loud-mouths who always behave as know-alls when they have not seen an iota of the reality but always are loaded with judgment. These people just form opinion and are so rigid that what they think or say should be treated as holy words. Or else you are doomed!

I like to think I would not have cared. But I did.

It was about me. And I know me better than anyone else in this world. If you want to think what you want to think about me in private I don’t care. But if you do that in public, and say things which are concocted, seen with a shade then you better listen to my side of the story.

Ever since that duel happened I have really sunk into a low phase; I have started to look for approval; started to ask my friends what they feel and think about me. Suddenly I can see a streak of insecurity seeping in.

But that was it. I have decided to deal with it, my way. I just can’t let it bother me.

Let me know how was your boat ride? Ohhh, you are still on board?
What about you? If you are off that boat how you did manage that?

Shhhh …its prayer time… …Silence please.

But you can still let me know; I really like to know how to get impervious to what life throws at us from time to time. Is there a special mantra or a technique or a strategy, just send them my way whatever works for you and however you call it. Am waiting….

Eye...ohhh...

Eye-ohhhh!!!

That’s a common expression in South India and among South Indians.
But here I have nothing to say about them and not even about my South Indian connection. Ahem…I mean my four musketeers….err.. ‘Mallu’ friends (I will write about my ‘mallu’ connection later; oops, so much of connections or cross connections? He he he). Its not that I picked up a new word from my recent trips; I am very much in North India and have not visited any place beyond Vindhyas in recent weeks.

This story of ‘eye-ohh’ is from the land of straw hats, golden paddy fields; and stunning skin(umm!). It was admiration galore.

I was admiring undulating rhythm playing on those paddy fields. I can spend the whole day admiring such a stunning sight. Something happens to me; I get immersed in another mode cut-off from the world around me.
I found myself admiring their smooth baby skin (such stunning skin texture these females have!). And my admiring words were there for things I was liking and my comments were mostly around those things, in words, literally.

Then it was time for ‘return gift’. And compliments followed.

‘I want your eyes’, said she.

(I wonder is that a way of complementing in Vietnamese…hmmm, have to explore cultural connotations)

Well, I did not know what was that? You like my eyes? Then say so.
But if you want my eyes then it’s a hard task for you. You have to wait till I die and always remain on the lookout wherever I go and track me all over (I have not yet donated my eyes).
I cannot help you here even if I want to; first I don’t know when I will die and most crucially, where I will breathe my last.
I ask, will you?

Ha ha ha. You get them or not, thats your decision but I like my eyes the way they are. And I know you also liked them. Eye-ohhh!!

aung-BONG-chong

aung-BONg-chong......I am only humming these.
They say Bong Connection...err I say, loose connection.
Stay put and be alert. Ha ha ha.

P.S: For those who cannot decipher Bengali: its a sound track (a remixed version in the movie by the same singer) from a film named "Bong Connection" (Bong meaning Bengali) . Sorry for not able to give you a word-to-word translation here. I am so kicked with the sound of 'aung-Bong-chong'......he he he!
Enjoy the sound bytes err music...Sound of Music...nice guiter there.

Quote-Unquote

"The less you know, the more you believe." - Bono

Jokes (do us) Apart…

I have been reading some serious stuff the whole day and for some light relief I opened those bulk mails. Just an effort to think afresh.

You know, what I mean, don’t you? We all do and its no different with me.

And I read some. And remembered TWO of them. Just two of them. Why?
You will find out yourself….

[1] Between the ages of 15 - 20 a woman is like Africa. She is half discovered, half wild. Between the ages of 20 - 30 a woman is like America. Fully discovered and scientifically perfect. Between the ages of 30 - 35, she is like India & Japan. Very hot, wise and beautiful !!!!!!!!! Between the ages of 35 - 40 a woman is like France. She is half destroyed after the war but still desirable. Between the ages of 40 - 50 she is like Germany. She lost the war but not the hope. Between the ages of 50 - 60 she is like Russia. Very wide, very quiet but nobody goes there. Between the ages of 60 - 70 a woman is like England. With a glorious past but no future. After 70, they become Siberia. Everyone knows where it is, but no one wants to go there.

[2] A man wanted to get married. He was having trouble choosing among three likely candidates. He gives each woman a present of $5,000 and watches to see what they do with the money.

The first does a total make-over. She goes to a fancy beauty salon, gets her hair done, new make-up and buys several new outfits, and dresses up very nicely for the man. She tells him that she has done this to be more attractive for him because she loves him so much.

The man was impressed.

The second goes shopping to buy the man gifts. She gets him a new set of golf clubs, some new gizmos for his computer, and some expensive clothes. As she presents these gifts, she tells him that she has spent all the money on him because she loves him so much

Again, the man is impressed.

The third invests the money in the stock market. She earns several times the $5,000. She gives him back his $5,000 and reinvests the remainder in a joint account. She tells him that she wants to save for their future because she loves him so much.

Obviously, the man was impressed.

The man thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the money he'd given her. Then, he married the one with the biggest boobs.

Any guess, who did what? I mean who sent which one?
Err…I mean, more specifically: gender of the sender...ha ha ha…(some comic relief there, as if.).

No prizes for guessing.
[1] some globe trotter still on the look out
[2] some analyst doing rounds of..err…no comments

Just some silly jokes doing rounds for light relief like this. Any comments?

Talking Stats...

Its number game: it scored 1000 hits. I am talking about my blogspot stats.
I am HaPPppy. Keep reading and keep in touch. I hope to be more regular and hope to keep up the expectation.

Tac/Tac su mycket/Gracias/Merci/ Mahalo/Dhanyavaad/Shukriya/Thank you/ blah blah..and blah..

Quote-Unquote

"A wonderful thing about a book, in contrast to a computer screen, is that you can take it to bed with you." - Daniel J Boorstin.

Escaping Escapade

I am safe home and miraculously escaped serial bomb blasts that rocked the capital city this evening. Really a narrow escape of sorts and I am lucky that I am safely back home.

Its kinda usual to catch up with friends or go for a movie on a weekend. And this Saturday was no different. I started the day with some phone calls to plan the weekend while browsing the morning newspaper. Movie I was interested in was not part of a common agenda so it was ruled out. But a get together was planned.

And our hang out zone for this weekend was as always the heart of the city which we fondly refer as CP (Connaught Place) . We still call it CP despite a more Indianized name of 'Rajiv Chowk' as it's become part of our vocabulary. We met and had a good time. Soon it's time to return.

I am for some reason fond of public transport and prefer taking metro rather than hiring a cab or an auto-rickshaw (equivalent to tuk-tuk). And since CP and my place are bang on the metro line its much preferred. And as usual I planned to take a train on my way back home. But for some reason I hovered around that place and stayed back to meet an old acquaintance (I used to live there and had lived almost for two decades in that area) .

Thus I escaped the twin blasts in CP.

If I had not for some reason NOT remembered that occasion and NOT decided to pay him a visit, I would have definitely be near the Central Park in CP around the time the blast was clocked.

I was so oblivious of the tragedy even when I was on my way back until suddenly my phone rang (it was jammed for well over an hour) and my dad broke the news. By then things were under control. And when I was walking down those lanes of Lutyens' Delhi (I like to walk those lanes; it brings me nostalgia from my childhood days), I was the only soul walking down the street.

Now the BIG question was: how do I get home?

My friends have already gone home, so no cars for me (and I don't drive). Delhi is on alert and all shops are closed, all street corners are deserted. My options were: a) to get in one of those crowded public buses and go bonkers with the thought of a blast on the bus for an hour (it takes an hour to reach my place on a bus); b) wait for an auto-rickshaw if it is willing to go my way; c) and wait till metro starts plying (it was stopped for security reasons).

I was getting all kinds of suggestions as friends and family were calling me non-stop. In my mind, walking was the safest mode but it's bit of an irrational thought to walk 20 KM. I completely ruled out the option of public bus as there is no control who boards and with what. News still pouring in about yet to explode bombs which were yet to be found. So, I patiently walked towards the nearest metro station and was greeted by a long queue; dozens of police vehicles; reporters from TV channels; sirens and hooters going on non-stop. I thought in my head: its much better to wait and get frisked and screened and be sure that there is no bomb in any one's bag. For some reason I trust the way metro functions.

But, you know for some reason I did not sound even for a second or felt 'panicked'; that's a strange realization. I was walking as if nothing happened. I was waiting in the queue amidst those brouhaha as if nothing can move me.

And I came home unscathed. I am alive.

Where is SIR?

Umm…I would not have even attempted to write something on this line if today for the n-th time I had not heard this. I guess it made up to the level to ‘inspire’ me for a blog post instead of writing what my super cute boss has been insisting on for a few days now (just two days to be precise, I will finish that the first thing after this one, promise!).

Well, the question was: “where is ‘sir’ (it was not ‘sir’ but a variation of sorts in Hindi)? Ohh, he must be at work” Whoa?

To tell you the whole thing I have to mince a few more words. So, allow me.

I am on my own. And off late, I am REALLY on my own (Read: started to stay in the flat I had bought earlier this year). This requires me to commission works when I want to fix some particular furniture or an appliance the way I want. Which further means I need to meet/talk with carpenters, electricians, plumbers, painters, etc etc and bring them home and tell them their job and supervise. Quite a process.

I am a perfectionist when it comes to a job and I can be really ‘bossy’ in my just five feet (or even less than that) stature and a nice façade (Read: face).

In India (especially) it is normal for people to be overtly curious. I have been courting volleys..err queries around who all are the occupants in my flat. I guess it’s because these workers around here do not think a female can be a sole occupant when I ONLY bring them home and I am the ONLY person they see in the place. And then it’s a full fledged house, so they are ‘entitled’ to think its housing a family and not just ‘only the female’ they meet.

And depending upon how blunt the question my repertoire varies between being sharp and rude to being snappy and snubbing. I have heard them all and tackled them with an effortless ‘dodging’ of a footballer in a way “dude, just tell me whether it functions properly or not; it’s immaterial whether for 10 people or one. And don’t ask me how many people will drink water from this water purifier in a day?”

Ummm…that was easy.

Then came a smart one from this electrician (who apparently knows my family, my dad and all): “who all will be staying here? Are you all shifting here?”

Umm…I had no clear answer. Because, I don’t want to give him any info. So I very nicely swallowed the question, yikes!

He’s a very curious sort, so he did not stop at that: "you are not married, right? Is this ok for you to stay here all alone?"

Urghhh…I least expected this one. So it was a shocker of sorts. But he has a point; he wants your info, that’s his birth-right. When you don’t even look married (well, here in India women sport certain symbols when they are taken…well, I mean married) why on earth you chose to live separately (he has been working for us for five past years or so, so has the right to talk like my granny!) I murmured something and I felt really angry while answering, so I preferred not to repeat it clearly in more audible voice (dont want to spoil a relationship; I very timely remembered advice of my so-very-good-at-man-management brother) and started to call some numbers while toying with my mobile. I later heard from dad that the electrician had paid him a visit and showed concerns around my new flat and that he (my dad) had not made a right decision.

Many more such comments followed and forgotten (as they did not ‘affect’ me so much) and I was just getting more used to the ‘game’; becoming a veteran of sorts.

Then it was the turn of my ‘I-don’t-know-what-to-say’ neighbor. He meets my brother during his weekend visits and very happily he goes on blabbering: “good that you started to stay here, it was lying vacant for so many months. So, it’s you and your wife?” Wow!! what imagination, I say, really creative imagination!!

It’s hard to engage my brother in a conversation in the middle of a staircase and when his smile can make you forget what your next sentence was. So, that was it.
And this one is so typical: watch this. This neighbor always watches me in the place, day in and day out and not my brother but he only chooses to ask questions to him. Such “gender sensitive” some people are! Anyway, my brother and him have become very goody-goody-hi-hello pals ever since.

But coming back to what made me start it all: I am revamping the look (not mine) of my flat and planned some more work and hence engaged a few more workers. I needed to go to their workshop and place an order and they needed to come and fix it after a week. They came (I brought them as they never came to this part of town or village?).
They entered, and looked in, and kept on looking as if they wanted someone to come out of the corridor, or the bathroom or whatever nook and corner not visible from the entrance. Well, what’s the matter?

Where is ‘sir’? I was like: windows are here, why do you need ‘sir’ in the house? I kept silent, I did not know how to react. Thank heavens, he incorporated his own answers: "Ohh, he must be at work.."

Umm…what?? I am paying you for what you are planning to fix on my windows and then I gave you correct measurements. I even got this helpful doorman remain standby in case he needs a hand. Now, why you need a ‘sir’ to appear from nowhere?

Anyway, here I am waiting for ‘sir’ to appear from nowhere to come home after his work. And then I have a ‘weekend-husband’ visiting me with such sexy smile (now I know from where my ‘I-don’t-know-what-to-say’ neighbor got so imaginative).

Now you know how it feels in my new place, on my own with ‘husband’ and ‘sir’ trooping in from all over. And I say: I don’t really know what to say. I am sort of speechless.

Umm….that’s something new..err news of sorts.

What’s say?

(W)rite THE Passage

This weekend was supposed to be super-hectic because: (1) my out-of-town brother's visit was due, (2) I had planned an outing with a friend over a movie - my house guest has left, so its time to shower attention to others (I better should do this as I am meeting him for the first time after my return home; we are neighbors across the street; can you imagine how my social life has been ever since I have returned?!), (3) catch up with some others to set everything write..err right. So quite a chock-a-block of a weekend...ummm.

And it indeed was a super-duper hectic weekend and I enjoyed to a hilt. Bro is super cool as ever (he is looking damn sexy, FYI); Movie rocked; outings were super nice. And I realized how more hectic it could get.

There was a discussion over some nice tea (I am a tea-addict) about some articles I just read (it was a travelogue and about a city I just visited and it almost felt he published it before me, ouch!) and our conversation invariably shifted on writing and such things and there came a shocker.

Why do not you write? Whoa?

Well, I have heard this before and I have been toying with such ideas. But writing professionally?

Does not your profession need you to write?

Well, thats different. I write and I love to write, on the job on technical matters; I love to write to unwind and mostly end up writing never-ending (read: LONG) e-mails/e-notes; I love to describe things vividly, may be its part of my training as an Anthropologist or this is a gift of being born in a family ( my mum is/was into literature and my granny was a prolific writer and a gifted poet; its a pity she never published). Well...well...I still do not see myself cut out as a writer. I might write as a hobby or for some kicks.

It reminds me how I have failed others expectations in the past: my supervisor commented reading my thesis that we were not attempting something in English literature and that all my passionate 'write-up' should find another place for its expression (well, if you read it you will notice my touch here-n-there oozing out from somewhere in the middle of those theorizing!). At the end of it he did press me for a book (in my style definitely) on my thesis and its still 'going on' despite a lot of encouraging-inspiring anecdotes. And so far I have not really completed it. Till this moment it will count as: I failed his expectation.

Then, my very nice boss (you know who I am talking about..ummm) had a similar idea looking at how I handle writing reports and churning up e-notes that I might do justice for a nice piece on the project we put our hearts on. Well, its still in the back-burner (read: its the least accessed folder on my comp). So, you know I have one more on the list of failed expectations.

And this is the latest: my very beautiful boss (this one is a female, at last; looks like I always praise men a lot!) was (or still is) sore with me for not completing what is again a write-up!

So, do you still think I can do justice?

And you wanted me to jot down my notes from all the places I had been over those ten weeks, five time zones and three countries? And you want me to write a series for a big name? And you are offering me what is sounding like a 'job'? And that I have good sense of photography (!)

Such a pot loaded with talent: Someone should hire me, soon....

Ouch...I have no clue what to say. And how to respond.

As far as I know: I am at my best creatively when I am not pressed for; when I am not hard pressed with a deadline. And when I am on my own and when the mood is just (w)right!

Umm...you never know I might be one ONE day..Amen! What do you say?

P.S: I am wanting to know your response, have you voted yet?

Here I am....

Wow...I have to write about this one: just chanced upon this new book "You Are Here" by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan.

I am reading quite a lot these days as I like to keep myself busy.

Well, what more you can do when you find yourself surrounded by a horde of workers? Dont you worry: I am not being mobbed or anything; I was supervising workers at my new place as I was readying it for my house guest, a dear friend.

And this was one of the books I read during this stint.

I am amazed at her description and I must tell you this girl can write from her heart and what all she can write! Kudos to her frankness and openness. I admire her for that. Not just because she wrote it but because she is all of 26 years; because she is from India (dont you know about those hypocrites and setting standards and stereotypes?). Ouch, truth hurts.

Hmmm...commendable feat! I gotta meet her and talk with her. I somehow already liked her.

(Her next book reading is on 23 August at MGF Metropolitan Mall, Saket; I will be there.)

One Year and Counting....

There is something very uncanny about me. Seriously, I mean it.

I somehow cannot forget dates and however busy I am I will still remember Birthdays and remember my friends from middle of nowhere.

Well, this time it was my Blogspot. This sweetheart has just turned ONE and I am so very happy for him or her (?) (I prefer a girl child!).

Thanks to all of you who makes the number ticking to more than 900 (wow, thats quite a feat considering this baby of mine is just 365 days old). I love all the attention you shower on my baby (and me) reading it, commenting on it, discussing it, sometimes even sending me reminders for more updates. I love that, even if I am tired and in travel mode and in a place with no gadgets; I like to oblige as I hate to disappoint.

I hope to continue writing and bask under the Sun shine (I love Sun, dont you know?). Looking forward to all your admiration and dedicated patronage. Its the 90th blog and Solna will write more; at least that is the plan.

And here's wishing my beloved a very happy birthday!

Joyeux anniversaire! (French connection, eh?)

10 weeks and thereafter....

I am really glad as I write this one. This is the one to say, I am back. I am back home. I am back for those relaxing-refreshing cups of chai, I am back for that warm little corner in my bed room.

Hmm, some one was missing home.

Yes, it has been 10 weeks and this was the longest time I was away on a trip and this was the longest I pretended I never missed home. This was the longest I wanted to feel like a nomad jet-setting from one place to another. This was the longest ‘trail’ I traveled at a stretch and it went on to such an extent that I almost forgot to appreciate the new place I was visiting. I guess I overdid this time and I could feel it; sense it.

Now I am back, back after a hectic yet nice, well executed trip. I want to relax (still wanna relax after beautiful Wales, huh?), take time off and go for a nice soak. What a wishful thinking….
It’s as if someone heard me or someone read my mind. I have to be on my toes and I have to be ready for a run and get ready for a hectic week ahead.

Or is it that I don’t know how to take it slowly?

News in New York

I love to travel and I am a well planned traveler (hmm...can’t stop being a narcissist!). Mostly my trips go smoothly. But not this time, especially, not when I was in New York. This is the second story in a row and I just cannot ignore it. It never happened to me (someone muttered, there is always a first time. Well, I guess I know that.)


I 'lost' my luggage. I don’t mind it as most of the time it’s my extra clothes (I never wear one pair second time; I have so many clothes, don’t you know?) but I just cannot waste time waiting for my luggage as I had a trip lined up immediately. I waited near the conveyor belt for my second suitcase at Heathrow airport. Bags of different shapes and sizes ramp-walked until I knew the one I wanted to see was yet to board the flight. What?

Yes, that’s exactly what I was told when I went to American Airlines counter at Heathrow airport. My second suitcase from JFK airport was not loaded on the plane as they had problems reading barcodes on the tags as their computers failed. Well, good to know the reason. Things fail and life isn’t a perfect basket. And it failed in New York of all the places and exactly on the day I was traveling. Some really know how to make impression.
I should not crib as every passenger flying with AA on 30 July had a similar experience. And I was lucky as mine arrived on the next flight and it was delivered at my doorstep. And I could carry on with my cute little trip to the beautiful Wales on time. So it was not that bad.

But still for the first time someone goofed up with my luggage and it was in New York.
And it made news, yes it did. Did you see the footage where they showed me along with other passengers tugging along their suitcases and waiting in long lines at JFK when computers failed at all AA counters?

He's got my drink....

Its been a long time I had updated my blog and you know why. Umm, I am in travel mode, you see! Yet I am being asked why I am not updating my blogspot. Sir, this one is for you.

I am in New York currently, holidaying, working, multi-tasking (don't ask me for details!). And the latest is that someone snatched my drink. Yes, you read that right; no mistake reading it.

I was in this fashionable restaurant in South of Houseton (SoHo) for a nice dinner with my friend; it was a nice evening after a rainy afternoon and we decided to sit out which is kinda sidewalks. We were excited, first with the food and drinks (especially, with the red wine I got to drink),then obviously with the environment and we were enjoying ourselves. We were talking as usual over a nice spread of food. Someone walks up to me: I look up thinking he is looking for something and before I could gather my friend gives a single and he leaves the scene. We continued.
Then someone dashes towards our table and this time he begs for food. I look up and so does my friend. It was like why these guys are coming to us? And not to other diners?
Well, we again continue with our eating-talking mode. We pretty much were engrossed with ourselves and food. Then again he strikes me (us)!

He walks, err.... almost dashes straight to me and asks if he could have my drink and grabs my drink gulps it down in no time before I could comprehend and hence react. I was like, whoa?
No one budged, no body went running after him; only some surprised faces.

It was such an awkward experience and I never imagined this could happen when you are in a nice place and when you are dining with dozen other diners. I was surprised and asked why was that?

The simple cheeky answer my friend had: you attract attention, don't you?
Well, I hope not.

That was scary and I would love to forget this to remember the nice dinner.

Watch me live on TV

12 June, 2008: I will be at Olelo station for the "Health is Wealth" program with Dr. Inam Rahman.Tune in to channel 52 at 7:00 p.m.

HULA-cination!

Aloha!!
It’s been quite some time for me in this Aloha-land and I have been pretty busy catching up with my work and activities and not to mention, my side trips, and, ummm…I am tanning beautifully. But, the first thing first.

This is HULA for you. And here you go……
I am awestruck and I cannot write. Well, no writer’s block this time. I strongly feel writing about something so awesomely beautiful will take away its whole essence. So, it’s for your eyes and I will help you with that. No, I am not gonna dance for you, well…you never know!! Hmmm, coming to think of it, I really feel like staying back here, and I am not kidding. Well, you know where it is coming from....no prizes for guessing!! Mahalo!!

Any Comments?

I am still at it,have been figuring out what is happening when you are sending your comments. It seems some of you have been sending your comments and could not 'send' it across to me (I was told personally). Well, I must have done some stupid thing with this blogspot's settings, or else, someone must be sending comments on my posts to someone (!).

Comments or no comments, I love all the attention around me...err, my blogspot.
I love that!!

Sevilla Moments

I love food and I love to travel and I love to talk. And all these happened as I met my favorite boss at Sevilla over some very nice Mediterranean and Spanish dinner. And we had a very nice time.

First the meeting: I was meeting him exactly after a year and since we both had a real hectic time at work and home and we both had cribbed to each other about some extra pounds we had added since our last meeting. I was meeting him when he just recovered from a very nasty lung infection which most definitely kept him away from Tennis which is something he does not like to miss. Way back, when he had a ski accident and broke his knee, I remember him going to Tennis court and play some shots without moving much when he could barely walk (that did the damage to his recovery and he had to go for another surgery to rectify it). Well, the point is, nothing can keep him away from Tennis for long and when it happens then the only complain you hear from him is about his weight going north!!

So, I knew what to expect. I reached there before him and waited for him. And when he arrived, I was rather surprised. He is as stunning as before, charming, stylish and that same lithe frame. I was like, where are those extra pounds, man? Anyway, this man knows how to crib when he misses his Tennis or definitely knows how not to put on weight.

Now the setting: a nice big piano and the pianist belting out very romantic, soulful numbers and I was mischievously grinning thinking he must have mistaken us for a couple. Well, we did not have any way to tell him we were not and enjoyed those lilting music which could sneak in between our conversation. And it was soon at the background as we got engrossed in our discussion on life, or rather philosophies of life. Hmmm…..

Now the food: And he wanted to immediately order food before I get into that deep thinking-talking mode and delay the order as he was very hungry; had worked on his presentation and forgot to order lunch. Well, I don’t mind either..food and yummy food and I don’t complain. So, we went ahead with ordering food. There was this duck recipe in red wine sauce and some ‘paella’ with jumbo prawns, chorizo, squid, fishes and some more seafood. And it pleased our expectation. I am not a rice-person but for some reason ended up with that paella variation as other things on menu meant too much of food and I was not really so hungry. They served such huge portion that I needed help; my order was shared by him for me to decently finish the platter.

And finally the most crucial point, the reason why such a dinner meeting finds a place in my blog. Life is one big complication; we need to make it complicated to live it or else its not interesting and yet we say we want to live it simple. Do I make sense? Hmmm….

It has been a pattern so far with me. I have a real ‘hectic’ life and I still manage to crowd it with some other things and in the process I fail to prioritize things. I move on to newer things leaving behind half-finished older things. I try to look for fresher avenues, newer projects/assignments as if more is less. And in the process I spread thin and lose focus. I want to be good; good at everything. Or else it’s not satisfying. I would rather do it nicely or not do it at all; it sounds good at some level. But at more practical level is it wise to spread thin? Is it wise to move on to newer things when one has unfinished work (read PENDING job from old projects)? Or is this just a need to feel good with something which holds more hope than the one in hand? Well, he got me thinking and I want to think about it too.

Sevilla will remain in my mind for long. Not because of anything else but for that life-churning discussion, for those soothing words which never criticized but alerted a lost mind, for those reassuring eyes telling me that you are not alone and that everyone is doing their bit in walking the path of ‘one big complication called life’.

So, where are we heading from here? Hmmm…I only hope that I know.

P.S: I am still spreading thin again, diverting my creativity on this blogpost neglecting my presentation in hand. And its when you just told me how someone never works on her publications, but updates regularly on the blog. Well, I believe in being happy and live for the moment. So far, such ‘moments’ have given me big joys and I don’t complain even with a fewer publications and I still get hired and I still am known for what I do. But, I could do better. I know, you meant that. Thanks!

Quote-Unquote

"Life is like a trumpet - if you don't put anything into it, you don't get anything out of it. "- William Christopher Handy

Ri(N)gmarole….(2)

And finally it’s out of the wraps, literally. And I am happy. But that ring has to be replaced.

Wait….let me tell you the whole story before you cook one for yourself just reading this one line….

I now have TEN fingers, all 'single' and ready to mingle..err all working and separate.

What? Did not I tell you last time, it’s about that ring and my finger?

Anyway…I wouldn’t mince any more words and give you the facts:

I was nursing a broken finger all these six weeks. It sounds to be a minor thing going by calamities happening around us. But for someone who never had a bone injury and that too when you were not ENGAGED in a fist fight or any such thing could really shake you out of your wits. I actually fainted (oops, I never knew I could!!) but the pain was way too much for me to bear it with a smile as I found my ring finger (with that RING of course) crushed and squeezed in the doorway.

And for first few seconds I bravely did my bit to free my fingers from there only to realize the damage and that was it. I could actually see the color of my flesh under the skin as if they were scooped out…OUCH!!
Luckily I had a friend with me who could take my beautiful trinity ring off as my fingers started to swell in no time (Let me tell you its not an easy task to take off a ring when the finger is hanging loose and when skin on the finger is not intact and when its that intertwined ring; to hell with it, all the complications together!! Thanks, dear. I dont know how you did it but you really did a clean job!!).
And two hours later I returned home with x-rays and prescriptions and wearing that bandage/plaster what my ‘funny’ orthopedic surgeon flirtingly called buddy-strapping (it indeed is called ‘buddy-strapping’!!). Yes, my ring finger needed a buddy to support it as it lay immobilized inside the wrap.

What an immobilized existence it was- My world had literally shrunk and I was limited only to telephones. You read an email and phone up to discuss, could not write emails in response. Not that the process was very slow but also with pain and that bandage and restriction to keep the injured hand up all the time was really making life quite difficult. It was not just difficult for me but people around me had to adjust. And shaking hands was one such…and even holding hands for that matter, Ooops!
I knew how handicapped I was, could not lift my arm as I also had injured some nerves and then that strapping had to be kept away from water, so no washing, no scrubbing your face, no shampooing your hair…omigoodness! And still you need to face the world….err, show your face to the world!!

I realized how it is to live life with one hand/arm. And life goes on….
And when you want to try to by-pass something you are invariably made to stand face-to-face with it. Such happened when I just dreaded the sight of a pen, forget about even lifting it and even 'trying' to hold it, I was needed to 'sign' papers and not just any papers but legal papers.
And the number of signatures I 'produced' that day even surpassed what I usually do in a month. And I learnt how to sign in forty (or more?) different ways in a day !!

Now, I know how to write with my left hand, how to eat food with left hand-here I mean my regular meal with chapatti, how to maneuver keys to open a lock and many such.

Now….ring finger is fine but I still can’t wear that RING.
I now need a different size as my ring finger really has a weird structure , thin at the tip and swollen at the base (yikes…what am I explaining…).

Do they really have customized service for trinity rings…I wonder!

Quote-Unquote

"Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine". - Fran Lebowitz

Sp(L)it-zer Wide Open...

"I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt."
Said Groucho Marx. And someone did it.

Ooops, looks like Spitzer took this one too lierally!
But, you cant blame him either he used 'plastic' atleast..well, you should have spelt it right to him, no?

Anyway, poor chap wanted to have some fun which went ..well, we all know what he did, dont you? Tsk tsk...

ri(N)gmarole.....1

Its about a ring, and not just any ring...its a Trinity ring. And there is a story...well...it will be told when the fingers start working.....What?

To be continued......

Quote-Unquote

"If you can dream it, you can do it." - Walt Disney

Mental Autopsy (?)

I love myself; it’s a known fact by now. Well, here I am not being my narcissist self. But….

For some time now, I am trying to be with ‘me’ (remember my New Year’s wishes?), spending much time with ‘me’, trying to understand what ‘me’ wants from life. I am walking on the sidelines lest I am pushed into the rat race of life. I am taking time to know how ‘me’ thinks, what 'me' sees, and believes in, and I am giving ‘me’ all the attention rather than getting bulldozed into that high speed track (Oops..I surely have speedo-phobia. Is this a word in Oxford English Dictionary?).

And understanding the inner self is so very rejuvenating. It feels as if I am being born again, all fresh, just out of the womb; pink lungs and rosy cheeks and all that. Ahh!

And here I arrived at a realization. It is difficult to admit things when you see them with a not-so ‘white’ color. Yes, I have arrived at a realization about me. And I think it is always a good idea to talk about it, internalize it rather than hiding or denying it just because we are so very proud to point fingers at our own self. Accept it, it helps!!

And I find my mind play ping-pong between two words: ‘high maintenance’ and ‘difficult’.

The other day I came across an article, thanks to one of my very close friends, and it made me think a lot on the issue. It talked about how our professional and personal successes shape our personalities. I remember doing an extensive research sometime back to understand what it is to be ‘high maintenance’ personality.

I find my mind having a jolly good time playing ping-pong with ‘high maintenance’ and ‘difficult’. Ahem…

I guess, I am analyzing a bit too far and my mind has reached its saturation. I hear ‘me’ saying: ‘I need a break’.

Yes, it’s the right time for one, the weather is just right and my calendar approves my idea as this would be a long weekend indeed and I see a happy looking suitcase waiting for me.

Well, I will be back soon. Till then, see you again!

Quote-Unquote

"The future has a way of arriving unannounced." -George Will

Slice of Life

Something happens when I see this particular shade of dark purple; this shade makes me happy, makes me nostalgic, makes me euphoric, makes me feel the joy from within. I am talking about that particular shade of purple, that Cadbury shade.

At some point of my life Cadbury was synonymous with chocolates before so many other names and colors started to crowd that corner of my refrigerator. Yet, my love for purple..err Cadbury's has not died; I still jump with joy like a child when someone gets me one.

And the other day I was so very happy to find this old advertisement which is off the air now; and I relived those nostalgia and the joyous child in me matched her steps with the girl in the ad.

Such moments are truly a slice of life worth living....umm, I am loving it...the chocolate, I mean!

Condemn Condom

Damn it! Urghh..not again...

I had a very busy week and started another after a fun-filled weekend with..well..less said the better. Ummm, we had a ball..(oops!) at the conference (a lot praises are still pouring in) and after the conference and we heard a lot of stories from everybody. But I am still so very much excited about this one that I thought of sharing it on the blog..(oops, I have not even changed my clothes after the conference..too much of info..err I mean I came straight and logged into my blogspot to draft the story!) and share with you all at one shot...huh!

And now the story: its about my colleague Melissa and her tryst with condom(S) and what fun...ha ha ha. Maybe, you can read it yourself! And know there is someone called 'condom girl'!!

Oops, I did it again..ha ha ha! Melissa, I still cant stop giggling...ha ha ha! What next? caught red handed with samples of female-condom?

I say, "not again"!

Quote- Unquote

"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside." Mark Twain.

Quote- Unquote

“My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and my talents" - M. K. Gandhi.

Kelvinator

" For your information, I'm staying like this, and everyone else can just get used to it! If people don't like me the way I am, well TOUGH BEANS! It's a free country! I don't need anyone's permission to be the way I want! This is how I am - Take it or leave it! "

Well, so said calvin and I like err.. love the quote.

Handle with Care!

"Handle with care".
This is something I always instruct to the airline personnel while handing over my huge suitcases loaded with...well, just to tickle someone's 'imagination buds', things I often don’t get to see in the stores in my town. And my boxes wear a happy face with lots of 'fragile' stickers on them. And these help me in identifying my luggage when they come rolling down the conveyor belt. It’s kinda routine!!

And so is the case with me, I suppose. Well, I am not talking about luggage or fragile items in my boxes onboard. Its about handling the ‘I-me-myself’.

Its difficult to handle me, that’s what I was told. Well, not too directly actually. A friend brought to my notice an article on a daily about how men are having a tough time handling fragile suitcases…err tough women (yawn, yawn). Oops, I mixed it up again….it shows how much I am in 'travel mode'.

And I do remember a lot of phrases which were coined by people as synonym for ‘I cant handle’ her before flying off the handle. Ha ha ha!! And I know what must have happened when the nicest girl one ever meets can be so difficult to handle….ahem!

Hmmm, I gotta say this one more time as I hand over my suitcase for yet another trip: handling too much, you see! Bon voyage to me!!

Lucky lEAps

Lucky lips are always kissing
Lucky lips are never blue
…. ….. …… …….
.. …… …….
And here I am leaping my way to a vacation
Oops, it’s a leap year too!
(hey, is not that rhyming?)

Someone had not seen an update on my blogspot and as always the ‘pampered-me’ is woo-ed. And it shows.

I am in transit as I draft this post. It reads well past 2 am on the watch on my delicate wrist and I am banging furiously on the keyboard (are you fighting with keyboards, asks another from the other end over a long distance conversation). And I go with the keyboard with break-neck speed sitting in front of an open suitcase. It is lying ajar; a few bottles of gels and creams and a few tubes of lotions are peeping at me from that transparent travel kit. And I could see that yellow sticky glaringly looking at me with a reminder that I have to send a print out to dad to process my application (ahh, hell…I need to hit the button to start printing).

Ufff….multi-tasking at its peak; in leaps and bounds. Music, blogging, phone calls, packing, advance planning, you and I...blah..blah blah...

And I feel lucky (me and not my lips, ouch!) as I ask how many times you have gotten a free vacation? Well, some people are born lucky, isn’t it?

And at last with that lucky…err..happy thought there will be an update on my blogspot. Someone will see an update till I get back with more…what, I ask? More of …well, keep guessing!!

Laa káwn!!

There's something about Rahul.....

He is awesome! And I have been saying this eversince I have seen him.

Well, where? Where else? Onscreen, of course.

Way back as a school girl, on that late-night serial in English which was one of the first English program on Indian Television (read: Doordarshan). And then more prolifically on bigscreen and I guess I have seen him from distance in some event. And I am yet to meet him....

I know what you will say, and I am gonna agree to that. I am crazy for him and its like hero-worshipping this man from Kolkata err Mumbai.

And suddenly I am all so gung-ho about him after his latest offering 'Anuranan'. If I could say, I was salivating with my eyes. His performance was awesome and he so effortlessly went into the skin of an understanding husband, a terrific human being.

Are 'you' really like that off-screen?

I have a feeling you are...dont know why...I gather that feeling from 'Mr and Mrs Iyer', 15 Park Avenue' and Chameli.. Why always I feel so moved every time I watch you onscreen, I wonder whether its to do you or your work or the content of the movie?? I ask why, I feel so very connected deep inside me whenever I set my eyes on you onscreen???

I dont know I could ever meet with him and chat with him and be friends with him...but the woman in me surely loves the Rahul on-screen.

Here's wishing you all the best for life. And I am wishing me luck (dont ask me...wont tell you)!!

And here is a crazy thought: who knows...may be 'you' are reading it....

Would love to meet you in person and talk, discuss and see the real 'you'...

Note for readers: Dont pass it off as some work done under influence, its real and I am all awake, sober, happy-giggly and completely in love with.... And with the load of grey matter I have up there I dont have to churn out 'brainy' stuff all the while. And most importantly, I have all the right to say what I feel...even if that means telling, I love Rahul, I mean Rahul Bose!! At least, it makes sense...And here's this one for one and only: Rahul Bose. Cheers!!