The Award

Well, I am sure you must have never seen any award of this kind in another blog. Yours truly filched it from Google and added the text 'Award' and now, I own the design. Now, you may like to know why? I see a lot of bloggers showing off their awards on their pages. One blogger giving it away to another blogger for being the sensible blogger, the thinking blogger, the good mommy blogger, the funny blogger, the I-have-an-opinion-about-everything blogger et al. Reality shows are just not ending with the television. It is omnipresent and has entered the blog world too with a lot of quizzes and quiz like things and talent shows being floated around.

They don’t understand how much it is hurting the sentiments of creative minds like mine. Vying for that oh-so-nice trophy displayed, I try to answer some of the questions. I think inside the box, out of the box, out of the room and compound and finally come up with an answer. The correct answer is ‘cyclone’ I say just to find out that they have been asking about a wet dog shaking itself. So you see, the wavelengths never match and I never win an award.

They also ask, who is Pappu and why can’t he dance? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know!
I read the answers given by a lot of people and laugh hee haw hee haw in the privacy of my cubicle realising that the trophy has gone out of my reach.

I have been blogging for more than 4 yrs. That means I have been reading some of you for a long time even through your PMS- induced (males can read as hormone. Women who do not want to read PMS can also read hormone) whims and fancies as you hopped, skipped and jumped from rediff to blogger and wordpress and back to wherever you started with or a domain of your own. It is nice to see you guys thanking me as a reader once in a while as you also thank your lift man on some f**** Monday mornings but no, you never gave me an award.

Now, what I am coming up to? Nothing, basically. People do thank their readers naturally. What I want to do today is give myself an award and show off in my page. Well, the award is not for anything. It is called just that- AWARD.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have won an award and the award is called Award.

Their last date

She knew this was the last time they were meeting and wanted to be nice, and honest.

They sat in the same place they often used to sit, bang in the middle of a crowded café overlooking the concourse. In the midst of the crowd, they had always managed to find their solitude, their voices, and their stories as if they were protected by the eiderdown. She wanted the last time to be like the first meeting and the many in-betweens.

“So, I am getting married” she started, suddenly remembering this is not how she wanted to start nor could she explain why she felt the sudden throbbing pain inside. He just looked at her, held her eyes for sometime and looked away. Then he stirred his coffee very slowly, as if his life depended on that steady action and replied,”If that is what you want.” She wanted to scream, pounce on him and strangle him and die with him that moment but continued the balderdash about how nice the man she was about to marry was, and how much in love they were. He listened quietly, observing how her cheeks turned crimson red and how her eyes were so wonderful tonight, all animated with a tear threatening to fall, something that made him feel like crushing her is his arms. He began to smoke leaving the coffee un-sipped.

Having nothing else to say or hear, she stood up saying, he needn’t see her off.

Walking through the boulevard, she suddenly remembered a time when they had walked leisurely after leaving the coffee house, sharing peanuts from a cone and singing a duet. She had laughed saying, ‘If people were to hear only our voices, they’d certainly think two guys are singing.’ To which, he had replied,’oh, let me check then if I am walking with a guy or a girl’. She kicked him and ran; with him running right behind her, laughing.

Collecting herself, she hastened her steps and coughed away her tears. He stood at a distance, perhaps thinking the same thoughts, smoking.

P.S: I started writing only with the woman’s angle, but I realized I am often unfair to the other sex so, I have added the guy's part too.

My colleague has started blogging, please read her.

The Dark Knight watcher

Movies like, ‘The Dark Knight’ make some grown-ups behave like a kid. S had been waiting for its release fervently. He read some reviews and how well it opened in the U.S and fed his own anxiety. Dinners in the last week consisted of updates about the movie and its reviews, how Christian Bale is a very good actor and how Heath has played the role of the joker with elan(imagine the special symbol and pronounce correctly. I am not able to do it. :-) ). I said,”yes, Christian Bale is finally getting his due. I liked him in ‘Equilibrium’ and ‘Machinist’ specially, but I haven’t watched ‘Batman Begins’. He looked at me as if I just confessed murder.

Making up his mind that I have a shitty choice for movies, he continued raving about Heath Ledger. I said,” I don’t watch gay movies no matter how good they are. Tell me something else.” (I just couldn’t recall his face.) “Oh yes, ‘A knight’s tale’ and the rock music and how I had commented on his looks. (I watched it with him. Hence, another proof of his good choice and my Shittyness in the subject).

Over the dining table, we mourned his death as if my husband has lost a bum chum buddy, the proverbial ‘langotiya yaar.’

S booked the movie in advance and we watched it finally. He hates loafing around in malls and window shopping but for a change, he asked me to get dressed early and said, ‘let us collect the ticket and while away some time.’

We were among the first few people to enter the theater. I guess he needed that time to do some breathing exercise to control anxiety lest he faint the moment the movie starts.

He absorbed each and every scene and came back.

On the way back, he started testing my IQ test on the super heroes and asked if I didn’t read their comics, as if he had suddenly remembered what was it that he wanted to know about me while courting, but not being able to put a finger on, had somehow decided to get married. I confessed I did not read Superman, Batman or Daredevil but read a lot of Phantoms hoping we are still married.

He continued explaining why Batman is not like other super heroes forgetting I have just watched the movie sitting right next to him and that we have our personal collection of the Superman series. He mumbled something like, “It was too good na, how the joker said, ‘I will not kill you because you are too much fun and you will not kill me because you are too self righteous’” and added, “I feel like buying the comic and reading it again.”

So, if you see a man at the tender age of 31 with a Batman comic, he could very well be my husband.