to the party

Scene: walking in M.G and Brigade road

She: We should have planned properly
Me: yup. I can’t stand those pretty females all dressed up and sexy.
She: Don’t tell me you’ll commit suicide.
Me: If I don’t die and the ceiling breaks. You’ll pay the fine to my warden?
She: ok. Shall we shop? We still have some three hours. Which will be the closest shopping mall now? Let’s buy the earrings from here.
Me: ok. But let’s see what dresses we have first. Wear your skirt with the slit.
She: My legs!!!! Need to wax.
Me: where is the time? Use the razor :-)
She: lets go and check out here.

Scene: Enter, fancy dress, Exit trial room, enter, fancy dress, exit trial room, …

Me: let’s go. What you have is much better. Let me get my clothes to your place
She: What about the hair? I want to set it properly atleast.
Me: Just leave it.
She: It will be messy
Me: then tie it. I am telling you it’s nice. God, this is not the first time I am lying but forgive me.

Scene: At home in front of the mirror

She: I cannot come now. I have soaked my spaghetti top.
Me: Rinse it and get it out. I’ll iron it else wear mine.
She: see, if the colour matches
Me: yup. My tummy can be seen?
She: It’s ok. Once in a while flaunt it.
Me: ya ya, after all my tummy know. You have no problem with me showing my tummy
She: The same way you have no problem with me leaving my hair. As it is, it can be seen. So, don’t bother.

Scene: At home after the party

Me: Paid to buy myself a headache. I ate two slices of cucumber for dinner.
She: I danced with blah blah blah
Me: That idiot held my waist and spun me so bad. My feet were not in the ground. After that I got this bad headache:-(
She: The fact that you didn’t eat shows the gravity of the situation:-)
Me: Massage my head it’s aching
She: You massage my legs instead. It’s hurting
Me: How about your neck?
She: huh!
Me: Huh!

Sigh! the pain girls take to be in a party.

down and out

I am not well. Having fever and a terrible headache. Please wish me to get well soon. I promise a nice post.

Miss home. Miss my mom. Miss being pampered. Miss my dog, Sentry. She is 13 years old and still going strong.

I had fallen sick at home and she stayed in my room. Slight movement from me, she sat all ears and used to make whimpering sounds, wag her tail and alert others and kind of signaled me she understands.

Told my warden I am not well. I was not in the hostel this weekend and she told, " you people eat food from outside and fall sick". Who wants her bullet proof chapattis?

I watched "King of bollywood" the other day. It was... I forgot. ok, I remember only this part. Om Puri makes fun of the naming convention of Bollywood movies and calls his film," D.D.H.H.F.I.K.D" which is the short form of "Dhak Dhak Hota Hain Father India Ka Dil."

I don't remember anything else. So, watch it at your own risk. I am getting delirious. All of you take care.

remember you?

I don’t have a better line to explicate my feelings for you. I never use verbally, words which define an intense emotion as ‘hate’ but with you, nothing has been normal and this is how I sum it up,
"I hate you but I like you cos I love you."

I know it surprises you to see my easy tears and laughters over the smallest of things. You, being a harbinger of all things that is wise, nice and polished.

Let me talk of the weather in all zest. Get crinky and ask me if I am a salesman to be bothered by it.

We belong to the same world, different dimensions, never meeting. You know it as well as I do and I despise it and long for it at the same time. This bonding that makes no sense or the sense in all the nonsense that happens between us.

We clashed like the clouds did brought together by the winds of chance. We were bound to drift apart someday but as I hear your voice, crisp, clear and almost arrogant with an ear charged with memories of days bygone, I realise the sense of familiarity that is much too stronger than the perception of change. Makes me feel sometimes that it would be possible to descend once more into those waters again. Flowing in a current which would lead me to you. Like a sapling, looking towards the sun for nourishment in the unrest of new growth.

But then I too wear the garments of pride and ego perhaps of a better fabric than yours and now I know I am a super female, the xxx chromosomed if you care to call that.

A mere male like you will never know how it feels to hold my hand or how lovable I am when I feel shy. Yes, I have all that in me and much more.

To you I am the fireball and I’ll fight each step word for word and perhaps pulse for pulse because one thing is sure

you are good at being bad and I am bad at being good.

sisters act

To prove that I meant no nonsense, I scaled our bookshelf to the last millimetre chalked it and told her to use her own side. We fought like cats and dogs and when dad in anger said, " I will marry you two sisters one to the south-pole and the other to the north-pole" I was terribly happy.

I thought that I would be relieved of her poking her nose everywhere, where it did not belong. My privacy, my room, my life was under her scrutiny always. Infact there was nothing called mine and mine alone in the house. We shared a double bed, two study tables, which she joined again to make them one, cupboards, brothers, mummy, daddy.

I hated the fact that I had to pick her discarded dresses sometimes even when they were pretty and still new or that I had to play with her used dolls other than my Barbie. I waited for the day when I would grow taller than her and look down on her but Gods and the entire universe seem to have a cosmic conspiracy against me and it has never happened:-)

Her way of reducing me to a mule was by uttering,"You kiddo, don't act smart. I saw the sun and the moon much before you" There, I was insulted and would lament for hours. The higher authorities like my big brothers and parents often left my appeal or my cry for SOS unheard. She even told me that I was adopted as I came floating in the river. I really thought it was the truth and asked everybody. My brothers played along and said, it was the truth. I had to wait the whole day for parents to come home and ask if I was adopted.

She was someone I didn’t want to be. I wanted to do everything my brothers did. Wanted to wear bermudas, ride BMX cycles or stand behind one, gell my hair or fix it and play cricket with them even if the only time they allowed me was to run and fetch a stray ball, (injustice here again :-< )come back and sleep without having a wash. She would beat me and I would cry sometimes till someone else scolded her.

She laughed at my chapattis, which looked like the Indian Map or tasted like papad while hers would be a perfect full moon. She forced me to take turns and do the morning puja and other religious obligations. She ran behind me in the big compound tirelessly and taught me to ride the bicycle. She knew my Maths and finished all my SUPW assignments too.

Once she gave me her new dress to wear for a birthday party even before she wore it once. Seldom ate without me and somehow knew what upset me even when parents failed. I don’t know what was there in us; somehow we always took sides when we were at war with other siblings. She loved showing me off to her friends too and got me lots of gifts.

With all the nagging and scolding, my sister taught me to be a girl and what it was to share.

Yesterday, we argued for half an hour over the phone. I laughed to myself later and missed the old times.

of chocolates, diwali and weekend

From the past few months, I have been eating chocolates almost everyday. Courtesy, Software Engineers.

Friends who had gone on-site and their friends who had gone onsite gave them to me from across the globe. Diwali was a continuation of the sweets and the chocolates. So, Software Engineers aren’t so boring. I just love them. Slurp! Chomp! Chomp!

Now, I know how it is to be Jayalalitha and having to offer an olive branch to Sonia Gandhi :-)

It seems chocolates are good aphrodiasacs.

I think it’s time for me to be committed. Not because I have been eating chocolates but because I am at the pink of my health and I miss having headaches.

Diwali saw me walking up and down with a rocket for almost half an hour without being able to burst it. Pataofying guys seem to be easier than bursting crackers.
Visited ‘J’. Saw her burning up a long stick which is provided to burn crackers on the gas stove. Said she thought it would start to sparkle. Proving yet again, why we are friends.

Met up with oldie,Prasanna who has come on business at Barista, M.G’s. He is a bundle of funny bones. There was a game where we had to roll dices and they should read ‘John Players’. Mama Shakuni style, I said, "Bhaanje pobarah!" but got John and John in both. Prasanna did it. Then, he solved a jumble too and we got free coffees and a gift voucher. So, for me it was like two free coffees. Didn’t forget to add, "See, I bring luck" :-)

By the way, been searching for a Burnol or some coolant. My a@&# is on fire. Got deadlines and I don’t know where to start.

kama salsa

On Sunday we had a Salsa workshop after the class by some Newyork based guy.
Written on his T-shirt:
" The art of Kama Salsa"
" Kama n. a sensual pleasure of desire"
"Salsa n. a social dance that results in Kama"

With respective images:
" Dancers in the dark
Awaken the salsera
Man of discipline
A rush of blood
The joy of salsa
‘S’ hits the spot
The recliner
Temptation with a twist
The big dipper"

He taught various ways of leading the lady, how to go about single spin or double spin, how to guide her in a social dance where you don’t have enough space etc etc. most important, he told to have eye contact with the partner which most people don’t. I am sharamless so I always catch the eyes of my partner even if he tries to avoid :-)

Hope the pushing and pulling by some of the galloping guys reduce.

Many complimented ‘J’ and me. They said we are the most pleasant among girls and we do not frown when they miss steps or do not lead us properly. I am glad I didn’t give my blog address to them.
There was audition for female dancers. Many came with their parents. Appreciate the parents. I wouldn’t have gone if we had to give auditions. Surprised how I was asked in the first place.

They have to strain every sinew of mine to eke out a performance from me. I am downright lazy and keep forgeting steps.

We were in the class from 11 am. to 6.00 pm. Lunch was a fruit juice and kulfi. If I go at this rate, people will need a microscope to see me.
R and N came out in their Scorpio and asked if we would care to join them for a coffee. Pat came the reply,"No thanks, some other time" in a chorus. After they left, we stood staring at each other wondering why we turned down. Both of us were tired and damn hungry and had to wait for long to get an auto

damage control

I did not like the last post but the comments made me look at the positive side of it. I wanted to delete some part but now, I won’t. I have started the damage control however. Read the book," Who will cry when you die? - Life lessons from the monk who sold his Ferrari " by, Robin. K. Sharma.

It’s about changing the stumbling blocks in life into stepping-stones and past mistakes to lessons in wisdom.
I read it loud to myself. It helped me concentrate and reflect on each word. It helped me modulate my voice.
If I take up this job of a consultant, I need a good voice so that people don’t bang the phone as I head hunt. I need all the positive energy to keep myself motivated and follow-up with clients and candidates. I don’t know if I can but now, I would like to try.

Wasting 3–6 months of my career is ok, if it’s going to give me a lifetime of satisfaction. God knows where my blogging activities would stand in the gist of all these activities. There should be someway of multi-tasking.
My friends asked me what I was reading so loud and serious? Would have done wonders had I concentrated so much on studies. Sigh! But then, there is usually only one topper in the class and so and so forth. Like the bollywood actors say, "I never believed in the number game" :-) ok, there’s a thrill in topping. There’s a thrill in excelling and life’s game is still on…

"Young man, make your name worth something." Andrew Carnegie

career and the other side

I see myself quest for something. Wait for something to happen. What? I don't know.

I am embarking on the threshold of another career. yes, I have refused to be happy doing one thing but I don't know if it is going to be the right move. Got an offer to be a HR consultant.

It was nice to see in the end of a documentary being rolled on the screen,"Script: Miss Kshetrimayum" but after almost 2 years into content and copywriting, I suddenly feel my creativity gone haywire.

I have been a consultant before but it was into sales. Did well, earned perks sometimes triple my salary. Learnt that you have to see yourself to sell anything. To sell emotionally and logically. It often happens the client buys cos they liked you.

We were trained to dress, sit, talk, keep eye-contact, win the wife as husband would follow suit(it really works guys;-) ) and never to give up.

Before the clients signed the deal, they would ask,"should we?" I would smile and say reassuringly, 'yes'. 'Yes' because it would mean I would be getting my commission per deal and the deposit they made. 'yes' cos it was supposed to be my job. 'yes' cos I had to grow and I did become the rep of the Branch Manager and reported to him directly jumping other seniors. But as I said, 'yes' a niggling voice within me asked," are you sure?"

I left cos I was not sure of what I was selling and why I was a consultant.

I don't know at this juncture, if it is going to be funereal attempt to shift and if my career would fizzle out into a disaster. I had plans though of retirement. I Wanted to open a creche, keep an aaya per kid, watch them, wonder at their innocence and elude myself from the real world.

On the other side, thoughts some wavering, some surreal clashes and crashes against each other like the waves do, incassent and tireless.

I feel like having a lover(don't raise your eyebrows) with pride, with pleasure, sensual, emotional and every kind of feeling wild or tender that boils down the gut or placid and serene that supposedly goes with the act of love.

It should be better, creative and surpass the knowledge that I have from the hazaar novels that i sniffed and supped.

Will it be possible when you can't even hold hands without loving? To love someone with every fibre of your being one moment and then to forget that he existed in the next and just let go?

Why can't I help pitying those people who give themselves up so easily and surrender to passion even without knowing how it is to really love someone in every sense of the word?

I get emotionally attached to people whom I care for or care about. Once he gets upgraded to the level,'more-than-friends' alarms start ringing ." Now what?", "where are we heading?", "Is he Mr. right?" ," Are we getting married?","if not what are we doing?"

Often I spill it out and spoil it. They say, happiness is in the journey but I want my destiny chalked out. I don't want to go for any tempting parking spaces. Heck am I missing something in life?

this is not what i was thinking while meditating, it just came out.

meditating

Meditating for world peace for a few days.