chicken-dressed to kill.

It was time again to be kitchen smart and so I cooked chicken (my style) the other day in J's place. Waited for them to praise my cooking skills. J didnot comment and ate quitely. Her face was blank. I peered close and saw her face cantilevering between a frown and an irritation.

Gave a sideways glance to her brother. He suddenly announced that he would be carrying it to office the next day. Yo man! my dish was going to be re-heated or recycled whatever, and eaten a second time.

At once I thought of my contemporaries, Tarla Dalal and Sanjeev Kapoor and my cookery show Khaana Khazana oops!it would be Khaana Khaas on T.V. I felt I had shouldered the responsibility of feeding the nation and that my recipe would increase the Gross Domestic Happiness of the country and the world at large paving way for world peace through the stomach.

From white, my face turned pink and I smiled the smile of a celebrity and he added,"to kill my manager"

hobbits?

Perhaps JRR Tolkein was correct with the term hobbits. I haven't watched "The lord of the rings" but I managed to read some parts of it. When I came across the Hobbits, this is not what I thought of. Opinions, I leave it at your disposal.

Yogi and his Clairvoyance

If you think you are sad, you really become sad. So let me start thinking I am happy. Well, I have been very busy. Managed to peep to my blog and was reaaly nice to see the comments. Thanks a lot. Overwhelmed, indeed I am. For the first time I really feel I did the right thing by starting to blog.

Coming to mundane activities, we have a client, a famed yogi who claims to be clairvoyant too. His articles gets published in some English dailies and all that. We did his website.

He gave us a thought for the day which goes like this,"Breathe consciousness is love consciouness and love consciousness is God consciousness". As far as I am concerned, I didn't understand the head or the tail of it. P, my colleague read it and asked me, "Is he asking me to kiss or something?" :-)

Helped an old man above 70 climb an elevation on the road holding his hand. Carried his bag and walked to his gate with him. It was really heavy. Seems like those self disciplined man who doesn't want to rely on others even againsty their physical health. Nice house he had. But no signs of any bachelors. sigh! I should help more oldies I guess.

watched Bride and Prejudice. With pride I am prejudiced against miss Rai. Her don't-touch-me looks didn't do any good for the movie. Vivek might say otherwise though. I had forgotten what a bad movie was like until this happened. Was it a drama, tragedy or comedy? I don't know. I laughed at the tragedy it was.

lost love

"You and me

We used to be together

Everyday together always

I really feel

That I'm losing my best friend

I can't believeThis could be the end

It looks as though you're letting go

And if it's real

Well I don't want to know
Don't speak

I know just what you're saying

So please stop explaining

Don't tell me cause it hurts

Don't speak I know what you're thinking

I don't need your reasons

Don't tell me cause it hurts
Our memories

Well, they can be inviting

But some are altogether Mighty frightening

As we die, both you and I

With my head in my hands I sit and cry"

Some pains always have the power of novelty.

Took confident strides to that lane I had forbidden myself to tread. A new haircut, new glasses, new dress, even a new fragrance embodied. We crossed paths again. Shoulders shrugged and exchanged ‘hi!’ and moved on. Somewhere, the lurking pain prevailed.

I guess I need to put it out today and it’s gonna to be long. Blogging ethics be damned (length, font size ET el).

Well, they say at the flush of love, everybody becomes a poet. Mine is flushed so, I am no poet. Brains, I never had one. Even if I did, it’s gone for a date or to take a hike. I have moved on with life as everybody says I should. I have become a bald rolling stone and don’t even stop when I should. The fact is, the search never ends for a face once known, a face that I derived my strength from, a face that I loved once just about anywhere I hang out.

I knew him from the time I knew how to eye a guy. He was the one who saw me change from an oily haired college girl to a career woman. Had laughed and wiped the smudged eyeliner from my eyes when I first started using the darn make-up. The dreams we weaved and the way we tore it to shreds! Should I say it has left me mature? I guess so. I am a big flirt now. But sometimes I do wonder if ‘love me please, knock knock can you hear me?’ is written on my face or that I am just a tease or that fragile.

‘Just because we’ve been going around for almost 6 years doesn’t mean we still have to’, he had said and I said AMEN! And did my part. Perhaps I saw it coming. Perhaps, we didn’t want it anymore. Perhaps, my ego larger than the universe couldn’t take it that I would be dumped by my childhood or teen-age love. GOODBYE! Just one word and it has changed everything. Or has it?

Now, you are not supposed to know how he is doing? You are supposed to live your own life. You are free to flirt or date ‘n’ number of men, to cry yourself to sleep, to stand and stare at other couples like a street urchin does to the comforts of a family dinner.

People say, ’you discover yourself’ in such catastrophe. I guess I have done that too. I have time now to pusue my hobbies passionately, blog, read, dance. Find time for my girlfriends and collegemates whom I didn’t know existed. I have learnt to stand in a queue, to walk a lonely lane, to run around for everything that needs to be run around. I still have to learn to have coffee alone in Barista or Coffee Day. Hah!

Yes, I have discovered myself because I had to and I didn’t have a choice.

‘Wahi hai dagar,
Wahi hai Safar,
Hai nahi sath mere magar
Ab mera humsafar
Idhar udhar dhunde nazar
Wahi hai dagar
Kaha gayee wo shaame
Wo madhbhari wo mere
Mere wo din gaye kidhar
Najane kyun hota hain ye Zindagi ke saath
Achanak ye mann kisike jaane ke baad kare phir uski yaad, chotti chotti si baat…’

(blame it on the weather, the festive season and my cold guys. couldn't help it.)

why?

She left behind a boy who has just started to utter 'Mama' and who would be searching for her by evening to be fed and to sleep blissfully in the crook of her arms.

She left behind, her long time boyfriend and now husband of 2 years and 8 months with whom she had taken the vow.' for better or for worse, I do' to love, to share, to cry and to grow old with.

She left behind, a good career, family, friends and a lot of questions unanswered.

smart, pretty, gentle and successful.

Mrs. A, my boss's wife left Mr. R a widower at 30 something with a small kid to fight alone.

What could have compelled her to take such an extreme step?

I have known Mr. R for almost 2 years now. Seem to be a good husband. Appreciates her a lot and is a doting father.

We were asked to close down the office for a few days. He couldn't bring out the lines properly, 'My wife expired'

Wouldn't she have liked to answer all the whys, hows, whats of her little one?

why????

If I had a kid, I would have killed but not given up my life.

May her soul rest in peace and may he find strength!

why waste time thinking about a title?

Watched The Terminal. No reviews here. All I can say is it’s one of those movies, which makes you laugh and cry with ease. Taught what survival is. ‘Too good’ is not good enough a word to describe it.

Watched Around the world in 80 days too. What to say now?

Pow! Crash! Bang! It’s Jackie Chan! It’s a hilarious action comedy.

I got roses delivered too while I was in the theatre. The delivery guy kept on bugging me with calls saying he cannot find the address. Thought I’d utter Shania Twain style, ’that don’t impress me much’ but heh! It was nice to hold a bunch of red roses.

Now India is 101/2. I hope we win. Tired of seeing the Australians throw their weight around. India’s dogmatic adhearance to ineffective tactics have put them in skid row. Hope it’s a thing of the past in this match. Our dance classes in the Chinnaswamy Stadium had to be postponed cos of these brats last weekend. National waste!

Talking about the dance class. It’s the only place where it is politically correct should I say spiritually too:-) to switch partners and sway in the arms of many men. Got too spicy I guess. Ok, to dance with many men. If three guys like you and you like one of them then, flirt with the other two while dancing but go out with the third for coffee. Gives good ego massage to him. He will feel,’ I came, I saw, I conquered’. Relish the pleasure of making his day while you sip your favourite coffee.

‘J’ and me practice this policy, Some girls don’t act pricey, they just are.

Initially we used to give nicknames to people as it was tough to remember all the names. There is this guy who dances with his mouth opened. He is called mouth opener. One longhaired guy is named Zulfi, then there is lambu, chottu, ping-pong and there is cleavage. I hope I don’t have to explain why she is nicknamed cleavage:-)

never say die

Said, she left home (Mumbai) after fighting with her dad. Became my colleague and then hostel-mate. Studied in Goa staying in a hostel, then to the Gulf to join her parents, back to India after the war and settled in Mumbai.
Often a bundle of adventure and mystery, I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Had a gold watch very typical of ‘Gulf returnees’. Spoke about a rich dad said they were three sisters, eldest a nun, second married to a guy who was 19 years elder and her.

Attired neatly ironed, out-dated salwars and dresses with elan. She wore boots to office on one Friday, with cheap glasses tugged on the hair and claimed that she couldn’t carry other dresses from home. She would often leave her hair without combing after a shampoo.

Nevertheless, she was smart and attractive. Her charms and wit binded us and we became good friends and the best consultants in the office. She shared glimpses of a troubled childhood, a dominating father, of naughty hostel days, first love, first kiss and how she lost count after that. Others gaped at her tales as if she was a seen-it-all, done-it-all but she was a very sensible female. One day she announced she is in love with a colleague who left to join the airforce, exchanged gold rings with him and promised to be in touch.

I just cannot help admiring her eager life. She was a go-getter and never sulked over anything. She was in here for just 6 months. Last heard she was in Qatar with her sister working for the Qatar airways and planning to migrate to Canada. She said she has bought a car, dyed her hair and party a lot. Told me she is in touch with her guy too.

If life hands out lemons, she will ask for her tequila and salt.
I don’t remember the lyrics properly but this is a song we laughed and sang together. Every line is suffixed with "on the bed" in a chorus.
Goes like this…
O Carol, I am not a fool in the bed Darling I love you in the bed Say you love me too in the bed You hurt me in the bed And you make me cry in the bed But if you would leave me in the bed I would surely die in the bed... :-)

torture

Torture, thy name is Monday!

Osama and Us - A Channel4 Docu pitch

Directors: Jamie Cambell and Joel Wilson

"Over the last 15 years, the United States government has poured billions of dollars into an unsuccessful attempt to trace and capture thw world's most wanted man, Osama Bin Laden. The FBI is now offering $25 million plus a $2 million tip for information leading directly to Bin Laden's capture. Still, the al-Qaeda figurehead remains at large. In early 2003, from their war room above an inauspicious newsagents in Balham, two ambitious filmmakers have decided that they can succeed where all others have failed.

Gathering information from exprts and friends of Bin Laden in the UK, we begin to unravel the real man behind the myth. Bryan Fyfield Shayler, the Brit who taught the teenaged Bin Laden in Jeddah, tells us about his formative years. Omar Bakri a radical Islamic extremist who is friends with Bin Laden, joins us on a bumper car ride and gives us an indication of Osama's current location. Peter Juvenal, a British cameraman who has visited Bin Laden in his cave, shares his experience. Omar Bik, the head of al-Jazeera news, gives us an upto the minute account of Bin Laden's whereabouts. We examine the details of the times Bin Laden spent in London and reconstruct an Oxford scene from 1971 in which he went punting with two Spanish girls. Jamie dresses as Osama and accompanied by two Spanish looking girls heads off in a punt. Joel remains on shore questioning passers by. Were they here in 1971? Did they see the man on the punt? Did he offer them any virgins?

back in the war room, we establish that the evidence overwhelmingly suggests that our man is hiding in the Middle East. If so, why haven't the American found him yet? Why are they pushing him out of the picture just as war with Iraq looms? We need to ask the Americans these questions. We call Osama Bin Laden's bluff and make a beeline to the one place where no one thought to look for him: the United States.
We challenge the Americans to present evidence of their quest to track down Bin Laden. In Washington we quiz Thomas Kean, the man who replaced Henry Kissinger at the head of the enquiry into September 11;as well as Prince Bandar, the Saudi Ambassador. We call directory enquiries and ask for the Axis of Evil. We ask the White house if there is convenient moment for us to 'shoot' George Bush. In Disney worls we cross examind Mickey Mouse. And when we begin to suspect that the American aren't really interested in finding Osama any more, we head over to texas where we probe the Carlyly Group, the 11th largest weapons manufacturer in the U.S. The bush family is a major investor. Does Georgie have a vested interest in war? The bin Laden family are also investors. What's going on?

Becoming suspicious of Bush, we start to develop some conspiracy theories. Does he know
where Osama is? We stalk his ranch in Crawford, and banter with the inhabitants of this 700-strong town. Failing to locate the President, we arrive back in Washington and infiltrate the press conferances. It is here that we put our most pressing questions to the powers-that-be."Isn't it in US interests to keep Bin Laden alive inorder to justify war against Iraq?" and "which is more difficult to prove :that
there are no weapons of mass destruction within Iraq, or that Bin Laden is not hiding in the USA?"

Evidence in hand, we arrive at the U.S Embassy in Governor Square, ready to claim our $27 million. And yet afterall perhaps, we are not quite willing to betry Bin Laden to U.S authorities.

Osama and US calls into question the idea that America and Britain are spearheading a resistance by the good and the great against the terror tactics of the evil ones. By asking uncomfortable questions of the superpower, it satirises the people at the top who believe that they are on the road to Truth and Justice. And by putting blundering underdogs into apparent danger and tricky intellectual territory, it cajoles the viewer into supporting their madcap quest for the millions. "

comedy of errors

Scene 1: mom and me

She: Where are you?
Me: Mama, I am shopping with Jenny.
She: Whenever I call up, you are shopping or she is shopping.
Me: (Giggles) today, both of us are doing it.
She: Why don’t you buy gold instead of buying all those dresses and junks?
Me: And wear what? :-)
She: :-) you never take anything seriously. I know how many dresses you have. BTW, What are you going to do with your dance classes?
Me: Dance
She: What about your boyfriends?
Me: Which boyfriend?
She: You told me last time nah?
Me: They ran away. I took your name:-)
She: listen, I read in the papers that one girl was raped in Delhi. Your dad and I were discussing it. When do you leave office?
Me: By 6.
She: Good, tell your boss I don’t allow you to work late.
Me: (Gosh!) ok, but if I am late also, somebody drops me.
She: No, never allow anybody to drop you. Go in a group.
Me: ok, bus or auto.
She: You will be walking alone from the bus stop. What if the autowallah take you somewhere else?
Me: I’ll keep watching :-). In that case, send me my vehicle.
She: Not at all, I brought you up with so much difficulty. Here, atleast, you are in front of my eyes.
Me: When I took the vehicle, I was out of your sight nah? As if you followed me on the roads.
She: Nothing doing.

Scene 2: ‘J’ and her mom

She: There is one boy your aunty spoke about
‘J’: ok
She: It seems he is religious. Goes to the church and all that
‘J’: ok great. What am I supposed to do?
She: I have given your number. They are interested. Some Sofware Engineer.
‘J’: Here, if you throw a stone in space, it falls on one Software Engineer.
She: whatever, it seems he wants a girl from Bangalore. Speak to him
‘J’: fine
She: If he asks you to meet, don’t meet ok.
‘J’: then, how are we supposed to know each other?
She: umm, that’s also right. Go with your big brother.
‘J’: For a date? (Laughs!) Mom, why don’t you come along with me for the date?

Stop, or our moms will shoot.

silicon slum

“You don’t want to go to school?” I asked. “Nahi, school me mera set nahi hota. Aur kuch pucho.” This is the reply I got from a boy dwelling in a slum. I was not surprised though. Parents don’t inculcate the habit or the need to be educated to these kids. All they think of is to earn some money and go home.

To have our own footage for the library, we visited some slums in and around the city the other day. We went in a small group, not wanting to attract undue attention. Volunteered to join so that I could allow my seat to recuperate itself.

Most of the kids indulge in child labour, sell things or work as helpers in nearby shops or restaurants, workshops. Some of them got curious and came to see what was happening. Some shots were taken and when asked if they knew that child labour is a crime, they feigned ignorance. They know where their priorities lie. Empty stomach talks! There are many NGOs involved actively in rehabilitating the slum dwellers but so much more needs to be done.

Scary sight to see a small house with almost 10 people in it. No privacy, nothing. The stench in the area, the unhygenic surrounding. And it was just the other day, I had admired the opulence of the ITPL and electronic city and the companies there, standing proud and tall. The face of Bangalore, the Silicon Valley and the Silicon Slum.

To be very honest, I wouldn’t like to visit the places again. I am no Mother Teresa, just a normal girl with normal dreams and fears. I did not feel any empathy esp. for the men there. I was scared of them and wanted to escape. Urged my colleagues to make it fast. Some of them reminded me of the men you come across sometimes while treading a lonely lane. The stare they give at you, even when you console yourself they are harmless all the while trying to ignore them or will yourself to walk a little faster.