Category Archive

I have hunted and I have searched like a dog on a chase. I have set a goal and gone after it like NASA. I have searched (to the extent of being obsessive) like Gholum in the Lord of the Rings. I have scanned malls, street shops, posh shops, brands and any shop in the vicinity … any vicinity ! 

But i fail to find a shoe that I like.

The search started in Connaught Place - I checked Bata, Reebok, Nike, Sundry other shops. The Select Citywalk Mall in Saket - all brands from Mango, Van Husen, blah blah. To Amby Mall Gurgaon - Highly highly priced shoes with no substance. Shoe Tree. Khan Market. South EX . Woodland. GK 2 market … You name it … I have been there.

I still havent found it… Its insanity… All I need is a formal pair and an everyday pair … thats all!! 

So after the crazy walking in and walking out of shops … I have come to a conclusion that I aint going to find one … not here … definately not in this country …

So why cant i get a customised shoe made? A place where all I need to do is log on, select the material, design, colour, stitches, heels, pointed/ non pointed, with/ without the back strap, pencil heel, flats, whatever and give my shoe size.

They then deliver a dummy shoe … I try it on obsess over it make some more changes and say my okay … and in a 30 day time period … vola!!! I have a shoe that fits well, looks and feels like the shoe that I want and is the one and only of its kind :D !!!! Hmmmm … And it will be called My Kinda Shoe (Mera Wala Joota) !! lol …

I got to go golfing !!! All thanks to daddy dearest.. who gets to work his ass off 365 days a year … so that his darling daughter can have all the comforts of the world.

Golf being one of the elite games of the society that hardly everyone gets to enjoy. I had the good good fortune and absolutely unbelievable pleading skills that got me the opportunity to play golf this weekend.

I had been anticipating it for months!! The greens the holding of the club, the teeing off and of course the admiring glances of the cute hunks (Am I that predictable???!! and delusional ?? lol )

So well when dad finally let me come along for a golf trip … I was excited!! Exuberant!!! And totally pumped up… And ofcourse my joy knew no bounds (are we writing a school essay here?)

Well we went there on a nice sunday morning, the place, the prestigious Delhi Golf Club was already teeming with golfers. There were the oldies, the young kids and of course the cute ones!!! The place was quite flooded at 11:30 on a Sunday morning… And ofcourse the ladies … the moms, the girlfriends and the wives .. were looking ravishing (no surprise)

It was my first time at golfing and like every firsts I made an absolute complete fool of myself ….

Ofcourse I couldn’t hold the club well .. didn’t bend my leg the right way … my butt wasn’t out enough …. my swing was too swingy … my aim was too lanky …. I had no patience with the ball and my constant checking out of the cuteys was totally not acceptable ! ( ghosh!)

I teed about 50 odd balls in all direction and obviously none in the one intended … My shirt flew when I swung too hard and by gods grace the club didn’t slip from my sweating hand and give some one a tight wrap on the skull

To be completely honest if it wasn’t for the eye candies that were walking around …and my bosses obsession for the game I would probably skip it cause you not only require a lot of patience but also sweat glands that don’t sweat all that much 

A thought did strike me while teeing my 16 or 17 ball (about golf ofcourse! not cuteys) that this game is really like the hunting of old times … that the royals used to do. Hunting basically where the Maharajas with their plethora of soldiers and royal people used to mount on elephants and go on excursions for days together … sometimes coming back with no kill at all and at times a tiger or two.

Basically it used to be a thoroughly useless exercise which was done just to show off and spend resources on absolutely non productive exercise …. Golfing fits the bill to the tee … I mean there is a stick, a ball and a hole. All day you need to try and put the ball in a hole and basically walk around in the greens …. atleast of what I saw nobody cared about the game. There were people networking more than teeing off … they were busy saying HI and smiling than sweating it out …

And the whole concept that while a cabby trudges around carrying your load you stand there and tee off and then get zoomed off to the other location in a golf cart! Is crazy cause what do u do really? Burn probably some .000001 ounce of calorie in a year!! Ghosh the hypocrisy!! Can we run? Jog? Shout out and pump our fist in the air? Can we be a little less refined??

But with all my criticism  … I am all pumped up to go there again … and play it like a pro … bend my knee the right way … butt out a certain way … swing like a champ and flash that pearly white when the ball goes in an absolutely insane direction and ….. oh yeah …. Concentrate on the game a bit more than the dandy candy !

Tee hehe to that!

I have an obsession … and all week all I can think about is this particular activity……

…while sitting in office … I am thinking of the one hour I will spend with this guy.

Ya … this guy he has the ability to make me sweat … and not just sweat but really sweat!!! 

He is too good… he has me gasping for air …
he has me wanting more….

wanting it but not wanting it….

He starts me off with the usual routine of 20 crunches in a minute, 180 punches in a minute and three minute of intense jogging…   Then there are the 20 kicks in the air from your left feet and 20 from your right … there is the back kicks, the front round kicks … the insane leg bending exercise that I cant seem to do And the absolutely insane tummy crunches that have me wincing and crying out in pain …

…but I still do it … it’s that pain that I like to experience…

My kickboxing class is a prayer … its meditative … and the most satisfying one hour that I have in a day

Eeeeeeeeha!

Delhi is me.
I am Delhi.
I have lived here all my life …
I have hated Delhi, loved Delhi, loathed Delhi.

I have grown up here, fell in love here, grown fat here, jogged here, lied here, lived here and wasted time here.

To be honest I havent given back to the city that has moulded me into who i am now.

And now as summers approach … i feel a tad bit sad … that the cousy winters have gone away a bit too quickly … and now the sticky, sweaty, lazy, sunny days are here (Not that lazy changes …. come winter… summer …spring ….

How do Delhites cope with the summer heat?

When the sweat becomes unbearable, we drive around in our AC cars … the fan does not cool us enough … so we switch on our split AC’s
… we drink Rooh Afza with ice cubes … lemonade with crushed ice … we suck on Chuski available by the roadside in different flavours of Khas, Masala, Rose ….

We try to find a shady tree while out in the city … shield our eyes from the sun and pull our very expensive goggles on

… we talk and we talk … sipping our ice teas… we disscuss ideas or we simply vile away our time

Delhi is harsh in summers
Its harsher in winters

Delhi blows hot .. blows cold …

Delhi is like an unpredictable girl friend … she will keep u on your toes … you will never know what she will do next

Delhi O Delhi ~

Okay there is something about me and jobs. Whatever I take up, I start to detest it after a few months. I hated my first job and now my new job, that is not so new … is reaching that ’I hate this job’ phase.

Obviously the hum de dum of my job has creeped in.

The Oh my god! phase is over … where everything was a Oh my god!

The office is so huge ! Oh my god! …. The canteen serves good food! Oh my god! … The men are drool worthy ! Oh my god! … They are giving me free Internet connection ! Oh my god! …. They have a costa in the same complex!!?? OH MY GOD!

etc etc etc etc

Why does this happen? When and why eventually does this ‘Oh well’ stage creep in?

Why is there this mind numbing boredom slowly creeping on me?

Am i incapable of sustaining anything? Am i going to not like every job i take ? Am I going to crib all my life?

Where are you when I need you with some answers?

Angels in my Kitchen is one of my favourite places to eat out. It is situated in the Defence colony market of Delhi and houses the most sumptuous cakes, buns, croissants, veg platter (please stop me!) , chocolate brownie, coffee, eggs platter , smoked vegetables, salads …

hmmmm and what not !

I have already recommended it to everyone i know and more than happily taken them there and waited for their gushing reviews about the place, while i smile my ya-i-know smile

The decor of the place is very simple and practical, there are no flowing curtains, no cushy sofas, not even a jazzy wall paint. The place does not pretend to be a lounge (like every second place in Delhi is doing) and is a we-serve-food-here kinda place, with no frills attached.

I discovered it, a year back and since then i have had numerous breakfasts, lunches and coffees at Angels.

I again had the good fortune to share this place with two people last weekend … S and D. Now S and D are insane. Insane is not even close to how insanely insane they are. We had planned to meet for breakfast and S and D obviously turned up late, for a change i wasnt fuming as i had my yum yum hot chocolate to keep me company. 

Conversation with these two just flows … its smooth, no pretence kind of a conversation that is speckled with funny anecdotes and insane ideas. Craziness started with me clicking a picture of these guys and then showing it to them. That was the start of an insane debate called ‘My shoulders are broader than yours’. We then went on to measure each shoulder length with the available cutlery. Then there was the boob story that will be another post. I probably havent laughed that hard at breakfast.

Top it all at my favourite place - Angles in my Kitchen. That was probably the best breakfast that i have had in a while.

The excruciating pain … when your existence depends on an email

Keep pressing refresh … wondering what is taking so long

Is the AC not working? Why cant i hum my favourite song?

Send myself an email to check if all is well with my inbox

The email gets duly delivered… sits there and mocks

Refresh Refresh

Sweat … sweat a bit more

Tapping of my feet

… that extra cup of coffee

Refresh Refresh Refresh Refresh

Refresh !!!!!!

The endless wait into oblivion

Tap Tap Tap Tap

There have been countless instances, where i have done things that i have not wanted to do. Instances where i have regretted wasting my time, just because i could not … simply say no.

I think my constant desire to be liked by everyone, to be accepted and the fear of being left alone has driven me to become a ‘Yes’ woman. Its just ad nauseam.

Well i have decided that from now on, if i don’t want to do it, it is a crisp … No and ofcourse with no explanation attached, trying to cover my curt reply.

Hell i don’t want to do it. Period.

Few of the instances where i had wanted to say No, but pathetically chickened out.

 …. ….. tsch tsch … …. anyway here goes … …

• Meeting my ex, when he called and wanted to meet and for what reason? Just like that.
• Lunching with my girl friend and discussing how to convince her mom and dad to let her marry her bf for the nth time
• Be an agony aunt to people who just come to you, when they need a shoulder to cry on
• Bought that sweater that i thought i was compeled to buy just because i spent an hour in that store and the sales girl was super friendly
• All the booty calls at 12 in the night in name of Love (Eeww) (What the hell was I thinking?!)
• Helped out that colleague knowing that i was hard pressed for time … though she begged me for it (I need to be cruel!)
• Have coffee with a lonely soul in office just because he asked (?? i baffle my self)

Damn this list is going to just go on and on.

Hopefully me eager beaver will simmer down and learn to say no when i am seriously, desperately and most definitely wanting to.

No

No

No

:)                                                       NO!

My trip to Leh, happened a year back. I am still hung over that trip and all i can do is sit in Delhi and dream about an almost heaven on earth - Leh.

I would love to go back and experience the serenity that surrounds those beautiful rocky mountains. The landscape decked with absolutely flawless blue sky. The happy peaceful faces that greet you in the market place. And in some places the landscape that is absolutely devoid of any human existence for miles and miles.

There are places in Leh that don’t have even a single person… you can look in every direction (and i am serious here) and you will not find a single soul. Stand there… do a 360 degree turn around and wait …. wait for hours and you will not see anyone !!!

It used to be our jeep and the rocky terrain… and that’s all. The silence and the vastness of the place is what i am amazed with …. cause i have lived in a metro for so long that the vizzing past of traffic is a very natural sound and the honks and the screeching of tyres are as obvious as the existence of oxygen.

In Leh, we visited a few monasteries and it baffled me …. the coldness of the place…  the air seeped in histroy …. you can almost feel the prayers of the buddhist monks on your skin. The quite …  the stillness …  the rocky mountains … the monastries … the dusty roads …

Leh is calling me back … I need to pack my bags ……

Its the about the chase, my boy

Go ahead and ask her out … she might just say yes
And that will just lead to a lot more mess

Don’t you just sit around and mope and test
Just take the damn plunge and get infected by the love fest

My boy … you analyze too much
Please go and make the first touch

Take her out for a cappuccino
Do the salsa … do the Latino

Maybe a Long Island tea
And maybe that walk by the sea

You think when you get her its going to be all rosy?
Don’t know about that, but definitely a lot more cozy!

The coffee at Costa Coffee is nothing less than an addiction. It creeps up on you as the Winter Rain and rakes havoc in your brain dead existence. Once had, the coffee not only becomes a constant craving but a propeller of sorts.

 You start to associate success with Costa Coffee and if you don’t have it in the morning … you know its going to be a bad day, full not only of disappointments but also more craving and of-course more distractions.

Its a fuel which has to be taken every morning and in the right quantity (mine being primo). The cups of-course are a pleasure to hold and the cookies have the feel of, home made mommy goodness. 

Other coffee machines look like cheap imitations and even the thought of coffee from some other place is repulsive. Costa is my current mistress and I am very happy burning money on her, every morning 365 days in a year.

Is this how addictions are born? Well i am knee deep into it.

Its either me … or its the world that is fucked up in the head !

I seriously can’t deal with people and their idiocies … three instances in a span of 2 hours, had my blood boiling and me just ready to claw any one who dared to ask me what is wrong with you girl?

Instance 1 - I am standing at the Vodaphone bill payment shop in CP… all is well … people are taking their time to count their money and i mean a lot of time to count … to recount and count again…. to re re assure themselves
… i still haven’t lost it …even after the sweeper dusts the CP dust in my face and hair …. i don’t react though i am reaching that danger zone

One Bihari uncle (i am NOT a regional racist … but he was Bihari!) … he comes up stands behind me … a little to close (why was i surprised … or am i just paranoid??) .. is chewing a paan and counting his notes … he then after making his presence felt with his shuffling of feet and chewing noises ….. suggests that i move inside the shop which is already flooded with people … I choose to ignore it …. says it again ….. me ignoring …cause i know i will just blast the hell off him with my verbal bashing ….

The man has guts … he suggests it again …. and that my friend was IT! ….you have pressed the wrong button !!

I start off with …  rattling all kinds of stuff like …who are u to tell me …too its to crowded .. do u need specs to see that ?? what nonsense …. and blah blah and blah

Can’t even remember half of the things !!

The conversation ends with bihari crackpot telling me - ”chup raheya” (Be quite) 

and me telling him - “app phele chup raheye” (You be quite first)

And then we stand in silence me just wanting to strangle the hell out of this random man

That gets me thinking …why ?? why the hell i reacted that way ?? I could have reasoned it out with him and told him that bhaisaab (brother) its too crowded and i am not walking into that crowd. 

Am i that intolerant ? People who don’t adhere to social norms … are bound to get a verbal bashing from me?  Why can i not just IGNORE these nincompoops ? Do i think that i  am above a lot of people and that’s why i react the way i react?

Its tiring …just thinking about it ………… well i have decided to pay my phone bill on-line now … it ain’t worth it……… this interaction with people on the streets, who are bound to stand a little to close to you and are bound to talk to you for no reason and are (the most baffling one) bound to give you suggestions (??) on how to go about your business

Kab sudheregay mera desh (When will my country learn)

Delhi is getting colder, chillier, and more romantic by the day. Temperatures are soaring! Or dropping in this case and people are huddling in their razais (blanket) … hopefully with their loved ones.

It’s comfy this cozy weather… you can hug and prolong the embrace as long as you want with no body odor to worry about

Dilli tussi great ho !!

But I do worry about the people on the street, not just the people there are dogs there too … Delhi is harsh for those who don’t have a roof on their head, who have no money .. It treats those people with disregard… gives them a very step motherly (a la Cinderella) treatment. Delhi is harsh for these souls… it has no mercy for them … they get killed, sleeping on the street … and nobody gets to know for days ..

People say its is coldest at 3 am in the morning … if you survive that cold … that chill then you are a tough soul

On my street there is a bunch of handicapped people who survive the chill by huddling together, they have their razais and everything on their mobile homes… but I hardly see them covered up … they are used to the cold and used to the chill… I am sure delhi winters is not as romantic for them as it is for me with all my comforts

It is a torture for them… something they need to get over … something they need to survive … something that tests all their abilities …

I have nothing against public transport and I have absolutely nothing against people in general. But when the two mix it’s a combination that makes me squirm. I still think 4 - 5 times before hopping into a DTC (Delhi Transport Corporation) bus or a Blue Line (the private bus operators) for that matter. If I do travel in a bus, it would probably be more of a last resort.

There are many instances that have cemented my opinion about public transport in India, but there is one that stands out. It’s a glaring example that refuses to fade away in the dust of memory. It has become an encounter that I and my friends laugh about.

It happened when, I (unsuspecting soul, as usual) was traveling in a bus on a nice sunny Saturday morning. It was around 11:30 – 12 and for some reason I was actually enjoying this particular ride. 

But as is with good moments, they last a precious few seconds. My pleasant ride also lasted about 1-2 minutes. The bus had stopped at a particularly crowded stop and people had piled in, anxious to get to their destination. They were like peas in a pod, though a tad bit haphazard. People were standing neck to neck and I thanked god at that point, that I had grabbed a seat before it was too late. 

Just as I had said my “thank you bhagu” (bhagu being short for bhawagan/ God) there came a pleasant looking lady, dressed in a saree and stood right next to me. I say pleasant because, she had a very rural look about her, all smiles, all motherly, all loving and all encompassing and straight out of some Haryanvi village.

She was a little on the hefty side and had a huge huge (!!) tummy … I was reminded of Sethanis/ Halwai’s helwain, the type of women whose lives revolve around the kitchen, their husband and what the neighbors are up to. Her saree was hardly covering her. (It happens to people, who have become really comfortable with their saree and are a bit old and really don’t care if their assets are being ogled at).

So her huge tummy which was also quite bare was at my shoulder level. (Bare for the simple reason that saree does not cover the midriff).

As the rickety bus maneuvered on busy Delhi roads, picking up passengers, the ladies tummy came closer to my shoulder.

After few stops it was comfortably resting on my shoulder. An inch or more of it had nestled there and was quite comfortable with that arrangement. It had found its comfort zone and a support system, to uplift it… as gravity was doing its job well.

So there I was stuck in a crowded bus, a tummy on my shoulder; my stop a good 30 minutes away and a lady who refused to acknowledge the fact that my shoulder space was being violated. (Hello!! It was on me!)

As the tummy stayed comfortably nestled on my shoulder I vowed never to travel in busses and not grab the aisle seat the next time. I also vowed that I will pay ten times more and take an Auto Rikshaw and I prayed (oh god I prayed!) that the bus doesn’t get more crowded lest the tummy reaches my cheek.

Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!

Bhagu !! Where were you when I needed you?

I am sure you were too busy chuckling away to shoulder this problem!!

I came up with this theory after repeated examples in my life that have gone on to illustrate that i tend to crave for things that are out of reach.

It started the day i gave away my toys to my cousins. Toys that were till now lying in a cardboard box under my bed, toys that i had not bothered to think about for years.

And now that they were gone and nicely placed near my cousins bedside. I couldn’t help to envy the little girl and miss my sweet, adorable (?) toys. The sunny afternoons that i had spent playing with them in the grass, came flashing by and there was an ache in my heart (ghosh!) that could be filled up only by reclaiming these toys.

Whenever i visited their house, my eyes used to search for those inane toys and as soon as i found them i had that insane urge to pocket them and run as fast as my pudgy feet could carry me and then probably dump them back in the cardboard box, in which they rightfully belonged.

Same with men, after doing the dumping drama with my current flame, i craved for that nincompoop.

Why is it that we crave for inane objects that we know are seriously of no use to us after we do acquire them.

• Is it our gatherer instinct at work?
• Or is it greed at its best?
• Or is it just that things that were lost from our purview and now suddenly are in our line of sight that we start encountering the “good” feelings that we had with these, more and the rest of our logical thinking tends to shut off.

Or is it just the ” I want exactly what i can’t have ” theory at its best, with no serious logical explanations to it.

One of THE most interesting book stores that i have come across. It does not boast of the wooden floor (Full Circle in Khan Market), the Chai Bar (Oxford in Connaught Place), the easy in and out of the Bahari Sons (In khan Market) or comforts like air conditioning, benches, sofas, nice wall paintings or even the tinkling of a wind chime when you enter the shop.

This bookstore does not try to make you comfortable nor does it want to. Its just business here, name your book and if they have it - they tell you the price, or you keep moving and do not loiter around too much cause you might just get hit by a car.

Yes hit by a car . This book store my friend is on the corner of a street and its no uncommon street its a very common street with heavy traffic flow. You have to dodge traffic to figure while looking for your book. Dont get too enamored by the stock of books, dont get too in awe.

All this book store has is arrays and arrays of books stacked from the floor to the ceiling, with three people manning it.

Why i like this bookstore?

Its different! Its on the street! and all the books that i have asked for are available!! From fiction to non fiction to long forgotten books. I like the openness that this bookstore has. The all are invited feel. The absolutely crazy location it has.

Have a look your self and if you are in Delhi then drop by! Its right next to PVR Plaza, CP, Delhi.

 Few pictures below…..

Cars zoom by as you look at the pile of books. Cross the road and you can have a better look !!

 Indian man (touching himself) next to the book store. No i had no intentions of clicking that particualr pose, but this man just at that moment had to check if all was okay down there….

Ghosh Indian Men! … anyway thats another post !!

What is an earthquake?… but a little nudge from god… to say your prayers.

Delhi was hit by an earthquake at 4:43 am (by my watch), November 26, 2007. It was bang in the middle of my sleep regime and an hour before I would have got up to shut my alarm and gone back to sleep.

It was scary, to start with. I got up with a jolt and said “oh god” and then repeatedly oh gods followed ….

I sat on my bed and the dog that I have been dog sitting for the weekend, hid under the bed startled and didn’t respond to me after calling him repeatedly. I think he thought I had kicked him of the bed or something. Poor baby.

Few “key” points to note when the earthquake stuck

• Out of the ten friends that i smsed, to find out if they were doing all-right, only one actually bothered to run outside her house, the rest of them, including me … overcame our fear of being buried alive and snuggled back in our blankets.

• I prayed in English?! What happened to Hindi, my mother tongue? I am quite surprised…

• I could hear the approaching of the earthquake, the rumbling before it actually hit and the bed started shaking

• Our house didn’t collapse, (surprising and thank you god…love u! loads) though it is a British bungalow, built some 60 years back or more !

• I snuggled back in my blanket after doing the oh my gods and waited for the roof to fall on me. (How lazy can I get)

• For some freaky reason I had a picture of the rescue operation that would go on after the roof fell on me and of course I was being pulled out of the rubble, unscrathched

• My dog became angry with me and went under the bed and didn’t speak to me all morning… (what did I do?)

My second post in the very disccussed and very phobic (atleast for me) the great indian arranged marriage. As days go by and i am slowly inching towards 24, there is added frenzy from my mum and dads side, with rishtas and lets meet this boy and lets socialise a bit more scenes being played and replayed.

It scares me though, the hypocricy attached to it.
First you breed me like a “good girl”… with the following things engrained in my brain -

1. Don’t talk to boys.

2. You cant have friends that are boys; this kind of thing does not happen in our family. (Hamare ghar ke ladkiyan aesa nahin karte hain)

3. No late nights, no sleepovers, no “unappropriate dressing” (WTF! its not like i waltz around in a bikini in the market place)

and blah de da da da ….

And now sirca 2007… when the girl child turns 23 …guess what

1. Why dont you get some of your male friends home

2. Introduce us to some of your male friends

3. Why dont you have any marriagable male friends ?

and blah de da da

Wah ! I totally marvel the way there is a change in perception towards “boys” lol “men”

Was having this conversation with mom, she was in one of her frustated moments (can totally understand that with 3 spoilt daughters, one highly demanding job and one very traditional husband to deal with day in and day out)

So she starts of with first i had to deal with my dad and his tantrums and his drama and his expectations and his …… da da da and now its this man (obviously my daddy dearest) and his tantrums and his ideas and his blah blah !
She ends it with one of her sweet smiles. But what is really ironic is that, she is willing to let that happen to her own daughters, what she detests in her own life.

She has now become a mute spectator to my dad and his mission to get me (and my elder sista) married off. Unfortunately i have been the obedient daughter all through out and going against the only people i have looked up to is going to be some task.

I wonder should i have hung on the few “boys” that i knew, would it have been easier to have that support system and then evetually think about a serious relationship with them (??) … than marry total strangers?
Should i have tried a bit harder in a relationship? Hung on longer? Damn it! i was too young… i am too young !

Dont clutter my brain with marriage, coupling, relationships etc etc. Let me be i am sure i will find someone and like the good daughter i have been (track record of 23 damn years) … he will be up to your expectations maa and dad, dont worry your ideal daughter shall not dissapoint you (once again … oh well) … just give her time …. dont rush her into it…

For the last 4 months i have not been working. I had quit my job on a whimp and chose to stay at home. Trying to figure out what i want and how i want it. I was unsure of how to take my life forward and in which direction.

I did not do all the things like travel, join a hobby class, learn pottery or learn a language. Instead what i did was sit at home, flip channels, cook once in a while, bake cakes and cookies, write on wordpress, go jogging, meet friends over lunch/ dinner, travel (not extensively though) and think. Think a lot and THE most important one - just be.

The first month after my job quit was spent meeting, going out etc etc and i was for some reason restless, nothing was making me happy and i was at my sarci best!
i felt that there was not a substantial reason for me to do anything, yes my worth as a person was in the pits!
The world was a dark dark place… it was unhappy and it was empty also the best time for my writing.
I started my volunteering job again and taught … the thing that did get me out of the rut was internalising all the blame that i was putting on everyone else. The unhappiness and depression that i was going through seemed so BIG!
Over time and with a ton of introspection, everything seemed trivial

I thought over all the things that were staring at my face and the ones that i was refusing to acknowledge as my faults. Once i accepted them as my own faults and short comings, they were out of my system and not my worry anymore. Yes i was the incompetent nincompoop and i was trying to deal with it. I didnt have to shoulder anything. Damn it ! i am too young!!

And as my god works in magical ways, things started looking up!!! ya ya now it all sounds easy … but it was hell trust me !
And surprise surprise … i got a call two days back and i have THE job, that i wanted, the one that i was lusting after for a while !!

All i can do right now is thank the one above (God and the CEO of the company) and try to do my best the second time around.
And hopefully do this job without groaning about the work or falling hopelessly for some guy ( ya that happened the last time i started working)
So a newer improved version of me goes out in the corporate world once again, to take few punches and a lot more bouquets!
yeyy!!
yeyy!!

My sweet country as always doesn’t fail to baffle and amuse me. This time around also as i had earlier (in my “Two men on a scooter and a TV” post), i salute the enterprising spirit of the Indian people. Three cheers for the Indian people ! hip hip Jai Ganesh (3) ! wah kya bat hai !

So like the unsuspecting soul that i am, i was sitting in front of the TV and nonchalantly flipping channels by the second. Disgusted by the sheer waste of useless options available on TV. I mean there was absolutely nothing to watch. Zilch ! Nada … all crap !

So i come across this channel called India TV (should we take names ?? ) and they have this breaking news ! and its huge ! Oh my god !! the TV reporter is gushing about how this is the news of the moment and how its unbelievable ! This astounding discovery and blah blah blah

The great breaking news is that Ganesh ji the great Indian God (no offence intended to anyone here) is taking calls now. All you need to do is call up the almighty Lord Ganesha, obviously (!!) on his mobile phone and talk your prayers away.

Now you must be saying Oh come on !! that can’t be ! And questions like so i now need not really take a bath before visiting a temple cause i can be in bed and all i need to do is just call up Lord Ganeshji and say my prayers and be off to another snooze… would be racing through your minds

Also all the incompetent nincompoops, who were earlier dragged to the temple to say their prayers can now just call up and get the task done and over with. And ofcourse more …

So how does this absolutely revolutionary concept work?

The temple, that boasts of this cutting edge idea is in Indore (Madhya Pradesh, India) where you can avail of this prayer-call-in service where you can just call Lord Ganeshji and get talking ! The the pundit of the temple has about 5-6 mobile phones, that were ringing away constantly. As the devotees call, punditji takes the call and dutifully puts it on the ear of the idol of our almighty Lord Ganesha.

People then rattle off their prayers while our lord almighty listens and listens with that sombre expression that he is famous for. One lady called up and rattled away how her husband is having an affair and blah blah and Lord almighty should do something about it. Another one wanted a better job.

That is exactly when i switched off the TV and went back to my snoozing.

But i did take some pictures as proof !! hehahaha ha

Mind-boggling?

Its India babeyh!!!

I salute you oh great country !!!

October has started. There is a slight chill in the air. Evenings have become shorter and it gets pitch dark around 7 – 7:30. Nights are longer and cooler, with fans switched to 1/ 2 and people sleeping equipped with a light blanket. Mornings too start late and the temperature drops in the early morn with sunshine around 5:40ish.

I simply love Delhi in early October. I feel it’s the time when Delhi is romancing winter, it’s flirty and very naughty. It slightly ups the chill content and dims the sunlight a bit. An ideal state of affairs for lovers.

It plays around with the breeze and fills everyone with a slight reminiscing about their loved ones. Flirty flirty Delhi!

The rains have made sure that its green all around, freckled with an array of beautiful flowers. The roses are in full bloom and the chirpy birds can’t stop making love at my window sill.

This is the season of stolen kisses, long mushy hugs, frosted car windows and care free laughter. Of souls meeting, falling in love. It’s that time again when our spirits are up and we mingle and we laugh and rejoice.

Ahhh …  this dilli ki sardi is a killer !

                                  Sweet lovin on my window sill

Recently I have been experiencing a phenomenon that defies all other phenomenons, it’s that kind of a happening that will not only boggle you but also leave you exasperated and wondering as to - that happens? And continuously asking yourself - Is it feasible? What about long term? Are you kidding me? What (!!) Are you serious?

And various other questions … yes I am talking about “Arranged Marriages”

So here I am all of 23, an Indian girl, the very right age to be married off/ packed off to a suitable boy. This situation heightened by the fact that all around me people are getting married and about 90% of them are in my age group i.e. 20 - 25

This is obviously alarming for my very traditional parents, who follow a date line for everything and they are frantically scanning their social radar for a right match for their darling daughter

And top it all! An exasperating example is staring right at my face and also a grim prelude for what might happen if I let things be

A cousin of mine is going to be married this November; she is 24 and has met the guy about three times :O. All of three times !! and that too in the company of their respective mum and dad and I think the most that they have talked is - hi, how are you? These clothes look good on you … and exchanged some other pleasantries.

And now my cousin will marry him and live with him (the guy picked off a matrimonial site, spoken with about three times) for rest of her existence

It’s all good! I mean there is absolutely no confusion about - will we get along, are we compatible, what are your likes and dislikes, will the parents agree to the match and are we attracted physically? Etc etc

You are not given an option that this might work or not! It just has to work, you have to make it work, you like it or not, you have to live with it, whatever the case is.

And I think it kind off suits our Indian mentality, to take solace in our mummy’s pallu (or in her arms) or our dad’s all imposing, all knowing figure

We are taking the safe route out, banishing all possibilities of trodding the untrodden path and accepting whatever is thrown our way.

In a way I feel we accept defeat, cause we are too weak to take a stand, to fight our parents, to open our selves to faults, to take a step which might lead to a bit of a failure and to make our own decisions.

We want it all safe. We want the whole package and we want it with approval. We are lazy and absolutely big hypocrites. And we can’t make up our pathetic minds. And we are shit scared to ruffle a few feathers.

It enrages me, cause I know nobody will make me marry anyone and when my time comes, I will make sure I marry the guy I love not marry and then fall in love.

And what is that - marry and fall in love??!! Like hello (!!) it won’t be love you smart asses it will be - getting used to a person … and how pathetic is that!!

Well congratulations dear cousin you have just accepted defeat and all you can do from now is compromise and then compromise a bit more. God bless you and your hubby to be.

i have been jogging for a while now (about … three times a week)

And not only do i feel like the heaviest thing on the planet but also one of those engines that have become old with age and just take ages to start and sputter and stutter endlessly

This marathon thing is really getting a bit annoying, i think it was today that i was jogging when i heard some kids, who i had just passed on my morning jog,  giggling uncontrollably behind my back.

Ya they could be giggling at anything but it could also be me!  

Not that i care, but i can totally imagine what an absolutely funny sight i am. A fat ”aunty” (anybody who is not a PYT for most delhites) in her white tee and black pants , gasping for air, sweating uncontrollably, dragging her feet,  jogging and stopping at an interval of 60 seconds ( i could have said one minute, but that just sounds pathetic), trying to catch up with the early morning joggers, does not paint a very pretty picture.

But hey ! i am not giving up that easy.

Did i mention my jogging partner? The only purpose he was supposed to serve was that of being equally slobby and lazy like me, but i guess they don’t make people like that anymore

So Mr jogging partner who is also a very sweet, green eyed, Romanian blonde, the kinds that girls usually swoon over, is also a yoga practitioner and jogs quite regularly (this i obviously got to know very recently)

So i had asked Mr Romanian here to jog along, cause i thought i would need some one to carry me after i have collapsed and he would be my partner in crime in terms of the fact that, i won’t jog and so won’t he and we will just sit there enjoying the view

But Mr Romanian blonde, turned out to be a fabulous jogger and also a very sweet and patient partner

I would say sweet for the simple reason that i seriously have these gasping for breath situations quite often and Mr Romanian does not even hint a smile or a smirk.

I really have to give it to this guy, he jogs with me patiently and takes my absolutely unhealthy existence very coolly and does not shout out - ” You are pathetic”.

Also he makes me do these stretching sessions before the jog…. sho sweet !!

Thank god i have Mr Romanian blonde, keeping me company, orelse i would have given up way earlier in this jogging war

Thank god for green eyed, Romanian joggers! God bless their sweet soul.

Recalling my childhood days i would say the most treasured ones were when my maa used to take her afternoon nap.

After preparing breakfast, lunch and serving these in quick succession of each other… tending to the dhobiwala (the guy who used to iron and wash clothes), kamwali (the lady who used to do the utensils washing) and i am sure few other people would pop in and out of our small little middle class home, in a choc a block colony in central delhi

She used to plop on the bed, exhausted, trying to get few winks before she started the cooking of dinner ritual, which would last for a good two hours where like the perfect wife and daughter in law that she was, she would cook dinner for a family of seven (my two bua’s, chacha, daadi, dad, me and my sister).

Her few winks used to last about thirty minutes or so, cause her two pampered daughters would plop right beside her and make those farting noises on her tummy.

I remember me and my elder sister used to drive her crazy with our favourite past time - lets make farty noises on mommas tummy. We used to start with which side is my side of the tummy, first divide our territories and then play.

So my moms sweet flat tummy used to be divided in half and there was me and my sister making fart noises from our mouths ofcourse on her tumm. And then we used to laugh like its the funniest thing in the world.

Our competition used to range between who has the longest fart, to who has the loudest fart, to who has the most disgusting fart and some more.

While my sweet, hardworking mother tried to get her much needed nap, her bratty kids made sure she didnt. We gleefully played with her tummy.

I dont know what we would have done if she didnt wear a saree. We would have missed out on our favourite pass time in the slutry delhi summer.

We would have missed out on those 10-15 minutes of sheer pleasure, no pretense playing, giggling uncontrollably and annoying our mother beyond measure!

Once in a while when she used to be absolutely out, she used to tell us to shut up and stop bothering her. In her own gentle way and like the typical brats that we were, we used to go on and on, untill it got too much for her and she used smack us right on the head and go to sleep on her tummy.

I miss it. I miss the saree, the smell, the giggles and the delhi summer and mostly i miss her, my maa.

I keep telling myself if he wants to talk then he will call. What about all the times when i want to talk?