It was the one of the worst phases of her life. Everything was falling apart. Everything moved in a downward spiral. Friends were there, but she couldn't tell them what was bothering her so much. She would cry instantly, she would carry the lost look everywhere. She was depressed. Why was she depressed? Someone had said that he (Let's call him S) loves her. She loved him too, but she was confused. Never before was she in such a confusion, because she loved someone else. Always did and never told the other guy. In the meantime, S was around as a friend, distant so that he doesn't get emotionally involved. Close enough to let her know that he was there. But things don't always happen as planned. They fell for each other, but didn't admit. When he did, she panicked. She told him, she doesn't want a relationship, she doesn't want to lose him as a friend, she is scared of love, she has a murky past...blah blah blah. He understood and moved back. She treated him like an enemy. One day, he left her. What had she expected? He would stay to bear her cruelty? No, he left. And her beliefs shattered.
Image Source: favim.com
At this stage, a friend (Let's call him T) long lost came to see her, in her city. They had known each other for 5 years. He noticed she was not the same. She noticed that she was exposed, too vulnerable. But she still helped him move around the city, showed him places...took him to the best known diners, to take her own mind off her miseries. He asked her what was bothering her. She never answered. He assumed that it was the best friend she kept talking about....he mocked him. She did not protest. And the guilt ate her up.
Image Source: allvoices.com
One such day when they were alone...her heart was aching to talk to S, but he wouldn't respond. And she would reply in scathing messages. T was sitting next to her, while her eyes slowly closed due to tiredness and mental exhaustion. T slowly leaned in and kissed her. On the lips. She woke up, but her brain was in the state of limbo...half asleep, half awake. She responded instantly, tears filling her eyes. What was happening? She kissed him back.
Image Source: favim.com
Million things registered in her mind instantly - She was kissing T, who was just a friend...why was she kissing him back? She betrayed her feelings for S. And wtf will she do now??? She just kissed! Her First ever kiss. And T doesn't love her. Never loved her. That realization broke her haze. Panic gripped her heart. Her eyes opened wide, while T said sweet nothings. He realized the stiffening of her body in his arms. He wiped her eyes while she mouthed the words, "What did we just DO???? I cannot kiss you! You don't even love me!! Whyy???" She ran away to a corner, her heart beating like thunder...she couldn't breathe. She was SO scared! What had she done?
Image Source: sheknows.com
Another realization hit her hard. Had T just used her? No No No!!! She was on the verge of tears when T came by and hugged her...and said that she is the prettiest girl he had ever seen and that he was sorry that he couldn't love her. He wouldn't love her. She looked at him, her vulnerability most visible now and T could just apologize for whatever happened.
Her pain was replaced by anger when he later blamed her for the kiss. She was so angry, she never spoke to him again. She relived the kiss, twisted it in her thoughts and that made her worse. And one day, her heart just broke. She cried, cried and cried. She spoke to her friends who sympathized well enough, but she had to get out of the mental cell on her own. She started writing...a story came up and another followed it. She was healing slowly.
Image Source: wunderground.com
S finally spoke to her one day and she confessed to him about the kiss. He understood again, though he also said he would definitely kill T if he ever saw him. She smiled at that. They were not lovers, but they were two grown up individuals, who understood each other so much, that her pain became his. And he never let her fall down. S and She don't talk much now...and she knows it's late, for she had broken his trust...and she would live with that guilt forever...but she understands. He was avoiding her sometimes, talking to her friends, but ignoring her at the same time. Taste of her own medicine, she had accepted this and come to terms with the feeling.
Image Source: flickr.com
But she wasn't in pain anymore, as she was realizing that few mistakes happen to make you grow as a person. And love, need not be to be held or possessed in your arms. The beauty of it is to let go, when the time comes. And she was letting it go, slowly...
Image Source: faithfitnessfun.com
Blessed Be everyone. This confession is inspired from a true incident.
She is a good girl. She packs her school bag. She completes her homework on time and scores good marks. No complaints from school. No diary notes. Never! She obeys her teachers. Her parents always hear compliments for her. She never lets them down. She is their princess and a good girl.
She sleeps on time and eats on time. She even smiles on time. She knows the manners her mum taught her. An obedient girl. She listens to her family. Never breaks their trust. She talks softly and laughs lowly. She is a sweet girl. She is a good girl.
Her friends are mostly girls. She calls them best-friends. She enjoys their company. She can do anything to keep them happy. She listens to her friends. Never goes against them because she is.....yeah right...a good girl.
She grows. She grows into a young and mature being. She meets a boy. He loves her like hell. He is a pure soul. And she loves him too. They carve beautiful dreams together. Sweet and simple dreams. They want to live a day when they don't have to live according others' wish and can leave the whole world and just escape. They want to spend a day in the mountains. Just a day. They get a chance...a platinum chance. She agrees. She tells her girl friends and hides it from her parents. Her girl friends oppose. STRONGLY! She thought they would understand but forgot that they too come in the definition of what-would-they-say-or-what-would-they-think league of people. They too belong to those who command what to do and what not to do. What is right and what is wrong.
For once she wants to forget what she is ‘expected’ to do or not. For once, she wants to listen to her heart. She knows that she’ll never again get a chance to escape from the notions of what is good and bad of this society. She knows that her past went in making everyone around, happy and content and her future will come and go in the same manner.
She closes her eyes. Thinks for a moment and decides. Yes, she will live for herself for just one day. She will make her heart happy instead of others’. She will take a walk with the man she loves, on a beautiful ally surrounded by flowers. She will leave the will of the people around. She will live.
The ringing laughter, one that raises goose bumps on your arms
Comes tinkling out when she wriggles to your tickles,
Making you break into uncharacteristic giggles...
And her absence?
Sucks the life out of life,
The beauty out of beauty,
The love out of love,
And the light out of light.
P.S: I do not intend to scare you with my horrible poems, it wasn't intended to be one nor am I any good at making poems or making them rhyme; they are just random lines written during a supremely boring lecture and seemed perfect for D.O.V:)
In this era, when almost everything is possible, we are no stranger to the 'ant- ageing' creams and the pretty women in the advertisements who look like they've been frozen in time..
How many of us are ready to let life do what it has to without trying to stop the natural process?
Everyone wants to stay youthful and young and dupe the world with their "young and carefree" attitude..
I've seen my great-grandmother, grandmother and mother and their versions of a make-up kit..
My great-grandmum's make-up wooden box consisted of a snuff pillow ( i really dunno why and my grandma tells me it was to make sure the box smells good!.. that's a weird theory ), Kaajal ( which used to come in steel small tins! ) and a thin silver needle kinda object ( she used to keep a long bindi made out of kumkum mixed in water with the help of the stick ) ... Well this was her "make-up" kit when she was in her nineties! In her youth, she and her friends were most fascinated by the colorful nylon ribbons and glass bangles! (that's it?!!) and of course the flowers!.. She was one beautiful woman with grey eyes, and i just can't imagine her having thick black hair ( all through my life, i've seen her with long silvery white hair! ) and inspite of her wrinkles caused over time, she was a very beautiful woman.
Moving on to my grandmum, her make-up box contains fair and lovely cream (ah the obsession my fair skin! sadly she din't get the 'fair' gene from my great grandmother ), vaseline for her heels, Red sticker bindis and the kaajal dabba. Even in her late seventies now, she has waist length hair ( thanks to all the oiling with weird smelling herbs and shikhakai in her youth! man! I envy the length of her hair ) and her dark olive coloured skin (which has been faithful to the mysore sandal soap) has started to look like old tree bark :( ( man! I don;t want her to grow old! ) and inspite of me buying her the moisturizing lotions and creams, she still prefers to add a small spoon of ghee to the last mug of water during the bath and says that's all the body needs and not your lotion potions! :P
Don't even get me started on my mum's make-up kit ( if i can call it a kit! )... From the days of those red and pink nailpolishes ( i think they were called eyetex or something ) to the present day creams, my mum has literally experimented with all products in the market! Being a dancer, at a young age, she got fascinated with make-up and 'beautifying' herself.. from the lacto calamine and ponds powder days to the present olay and revlon compacts, her dresser is like a treasure chest to any make-up obsessed girl! ( thank god me and my sister haven't inherited my mum's make-up obsession ) Even though we tell her you don't need any of those anti-ageing things and you look pretty the way you are, she doesn't listen to us :| ( she doesn't even look like a mother of 2 daughters in their 20s! )...
When we have hundreds of cosmetic surgeons and loads of celebrities getting their assets 'modified' , millions of creams, lotions and what not to keep us youthful, I really dunno how many of us are actually ready to just let nature work on us as we age...
It is indeed a pain when we see a pimple in the morning when you have something special, that gloss which just enhances your pout, the under eye creams to hide the previous night's work pressure...
The make-up industry is more of a boon than a bane ( atleast according to me! ).. but come on don;t look like pan cakes at the end of the day, give your skin a li'l breathing space! :)
Google images
P.S : If you're wondering what my make-up pouch consists of, its a kaajal, lacto calamine, lip balm and a lip gloss! :P
A man and a woman cannot just be friends. Stereotyped but true. Either one of them develops so called "soft corner" for the other or they are made to disguise their friendship in the name of "maana hua bhai-behen" or what is more popularly called "rakhi brother" or "rakhi sister".
What angers me further is that it is ok for guys to have as many female friends as they want. Infact they build up a reputation as "Oh that guy is so nice.. He always helps girls". A girl in similar position would be perceived as "That girl is very chaalu, plays around with a lot of guys."
A girl is under constant vigilance all her life. When she is a child she is never let away from the eye of her parents fearing that someone would take advantage of her. When she steps into teenage, the neighbors and relatives constantly keep a check. A little falling out of line and you become the hot gossip. You get that "please keep your image high, who will marry a girl who hangs out with so many guys?" from your parents. Once a girl is married she is subjected to the possessive guard of her husband. 'Why are you late?" "Who was that guy you were talking to?" becomes routine and in absence of the husband even if the newspaperwala comes to collect his bill the gossipwine would go as "She must be having an affair, I saw someone get into her house the other day when her husband was away." Where does all this end?? No where!! IT just gets coming to us and so came the "rakhi brother".
I have made rakhi brothers too. My brother was born 7 years after me and so during that time I made 2 rakhi brothers who were my next door neighbors. Our school had this tradition of tying a rakhi to your desk partner ( we were seated one boy one girl per bench) and I made a couple of rakhi brothers there.
Growing up, the litmus test to check if a girl likes a guy is to ask her to tie rakhi to him (trust me this happens in every school!). If she avoids it then "daal me kuch kaala hai" and if she does it then she doesnt harbor any feelings!
This has also been used by girls to shrug of the love lorn guys after them. Remember that "Excuse me! Kya re? Ban ja mera bhaiyya re" song ?? I have also come across couples who cocoon their relationship by tying a rakhi (what what things people in love do!)
In my early teens I was tomboyish. Now tomboyish doesn't mean I used to play guy sports wearing their kind of clothes. I just gelled more with guys than with girls. We were a group of 7 boys and only one girl -thats me. Such things are transitory and we all moved on in years to come. One friendships day they decided to all meet up and surprised me by giving a call. They were just outside my gate and I couldn't invite them because I was alone at home( it is a strict no! and yes it does turn very embarrassing sometimes). We all chatted happily oblivious of the surroundings in my compound and the time and when my parents returned I knew from their expression that I had done something wrong.
They were angry and expressed their disappointment in the way I was talking to them in front of the entire locality! Oh come on I had grown up with same guys and now it was all different. My parents never objected to my mixing up with guys. That was another time when I was 13 and this incident was when I was 17. 4 years created such a huge difference in perceiving the same situation! My parents, even though themselves trusted me and my friends, were worried about my reputation in the locality! That is how it works! Even if you don't care, you are made to care about such shallow things..
I gave up the fight. I m not essentially rebellious by nature. I saw the wisdom in not hanging out with the guys. My friends were decent enough to understand my plight. My parents were worrying that seeing that I mix with so many guys, the rowdies would think I m a cheap character and start approaching. I guess my parents were right in their track.
That one incident changed my entire perception about people and life. I learnt what it meant to keep up one's image. The friendship between a man and woman is a very delicate one and has to be treated with a lot of dignity.
What's so cool if a girl roams about with an army of guys and flirts with her so called "rakhi brothers"? It is demeaning both the friendship and the bonding of brother-sister.
I do not give a chance to the people to embarrass my parents with my roaming about with guys.
How genuine a girl-boy friendship can be,is another topic. Come on, no one would see if he is a rakhi brother before spreading rumors right? Then why the fake show?
If a genuine friend of mine from the opposite sex needs my help I m always there to lend it and yes I have the courage to accept a friendship as friendship.
"He's just a friend and I won't tie him a rakhi to prove that!"
If you remain within your limits, the world would respect your limits...
We go to the parlour and sit through threading, waxing, etc every month.
We willingly get piercings done in all sorts of places.
We wear bras with hard underwire that dig into the skin and leave ugly red marks, just so that our breasts look firmer and perkier.
We actually wait to get our periods so that we can finally, officially, be called a grown-up, even if we writhe in pain for ‘those’ 3-4 days of the month because of cramps.
We look forward to getting married, getting pregnant and going into labour.
We wear heels to add to our style.
We sometimes wear clothes so tight that it becomes difficult to breath.
We blow-dry our hair, where the lady at the beauty parlour pulls at our hair so hard that only half of it is remaining at the end of it.
We fall in love, more often than not with the wrong guy, pushing away the sweet, genuine guy, in spite of knowing all along that we're gonne end up getting hurt.
Do you even need more proof that women actually like pain?
P.S 1:- Hey there! I'm new here. :)
P.S 2:- Am I the oldest member of the group? The cynicism shows, doesn't it? Dammit...
Today I just generally sat
imagining me on my death bed...
I have just turned 50 and
on the night of the grand half century celebrations, I fainted-mind you, not
swooned for I am sure even at 50, I would still be waiting for a Mills &
Boons kinda guy to walk into my whatever-is-remaining life and sweep me off my
feet*sigh!* Hey bhagwan, aakhri ichcha he samajh ke poore kar dena?
Near and dear or rather the envious ones thought it could be because of an overdose of Vodka.
They would gloat that I’ve finally succumbed to the urges of excesses. One vodka
is generally enough to get me tipsy. They must have made me drink five-one for
each decade and there I collapsed unable to see the morning glory of a hangover
in the cosy confines of the bedroom I have lived in for 28 years since my shaadi. I am assuming
we’d still be in the same house for my beloved is a mamma’s boy and by that
time he would have converted me into HIS mamma’s girl too. Whoooooooooa, now
that I am anyways dying-hey you up there, could I die before THAAAAT? Phuleeeeeeeeeeeze?
Consider that as my second last ‘aakhri
ichcha’ab at least gimme a list of last wishes. I am dying ain’t I? That should
be reason enough to let me deserve it!
So I wake up in the
morning sometime and look at the bleak white walls of the hospital and finally
get to ask the dialogue I have always desperately wanted to ask: “Mein kahan hoon?” Thank god I did not
die without asking this or else aatma-ke-shaanti
crap kaise hota and I would have to return back as a bhatakti spirit asking mortals ‘mein
kahan hoon’ and hear in reply from them, “Exactly, we can’t see you either-kahan se kaun bol raha hain?” and the bugging
hide and seek that would follow, would make me wish I were dead or rather dead
again or whatever!
Anyways, drowsy and with
no clue of last night I look around at the little crowd that has gathered
outside that room...
I assume we are in a five
star hotel room Note to Dear beloved-at least at fifty and on my
death bed, please take me to one of those ‘burn-your-pockets-here’ hospitals,
the kinds Anna went to-ab us time paisa
bacha ke bhi kya fayda, upar to mere se he milna padega na!
So my dearly beloved holds
my hand and gazes at me with the lost look that was perpetually on veteran
actor A.K. Hangal’s face and I assume the worst-
Maybe the maid
has left us...
Maybe I had a car
accident on the way and they’ve cut my legs...
Maybe last
night’s party went over budget and now they’ve kept us in the hotel suite so
that upon getting up we could do the dishes...
Maybe I have lost
my memory and he’s telling me about it and I have to now pretend that I have
not.
And he breaks into a
sob...
I offer the napkin kept by
my side and he does a good blowing job of it. Some habits die hard, old age mein bhi blowing!!!!!!! I read
somewhere that sneezing opens up the lungs-at the rate my beloved sneezes, that
is @ about 20 blood curdling sneezes a day, his lungs would have expanded
enough to accommodate Earth, Mars and half of Jupiter.
And he says,
“Baby, please be
strong...” ya right, as if that’s not what I have done for 50
years of my blessed life. I could give Arnold Swarzeneggar or whatever way that
is spelt, his run for money in this game
“The doctors did some tests
on you...” whoa, he offered me as a guinea pig? I knew it-those
damn life insurance policies in my name would tempt him enough some day to put
me up as bait.
“...And there’s bad news.
You have lukatmerokfromasia!”
I take in my saliva...
“You mean to say I have
the ‘look-at-me-I-rock-from-Asia’ attitude?”
“No baby, it is a new disease,
that blah, blah, blah you don’t want the gory details of
it now, do you? Let 2027 come and they would have come up with a definition,
till then spare me dude. Helloooooooo-I am dying, that’s the least you can do?
“You just have 4-5 days
more to live....”
And buwahaaaaaaaaaaa-nopes,
that’s not another disease or a big laugh-that’s my beloved howling at the top
of his expanded lungs at the thought of perhaps-“Who would pack my suitcases
now when I go travelling? Who would put my clothes in the wardrobe or my food
on my plate? Who would cut my eyebrow hair when they grow too long? Who would pretend to be asleep if I come too
close almost every night?” And the bawls would make the hospital staff wonder,
if not just me but the entire women-kind has been doomed to disappear in 5 days
and hence the mourning!
I look at the walls-blank
faced oh come on, how would I know how else or best to react in
this situation? Pehle kabhi kisse ne bola
he nahi ke mere pass sirf 5 din hain jeene ko...first time mar rahe hoon na!
I then sit and remember
how some twenty years ago I had bragged on a funny blog that I had created, about
how I would like to get tapko-ed or parlok sidharo-ed at the age of 50. Damn
your accounts Bhagwan ji, tabhi kaan laga
ke sun na tha ke mein kya maang rahi hoon?
Where were you
when I asked you to bring me Hrithik Roshan?
Where were you
when I asked you to make me 36-24-36 or make it 40-22-34 since we are getting
it custom made anyways?
Where were you
when I asked you to let me help a passer-by on the road from getting crushed
under a truck and he happening to be a millionaire, would sign up his millions
in my name and die the next day?
Where? Where?
Where?
Some sense of timing you
have! Hmphf, aapse to upar aake nipat te
hoon!
Phew! So I am finally on
my death bed now. After taking three pages in reaching here from the title that
you read above, I better make the destination as worthwhile as your journey mere naazuk kandhon pe umeedon ka itna bojh, still I don’t f@#$ing lose
any weight-there is no justice in this world, I tell you!
Let me see now-only 5 days
to live!!!!!!
I need these many days
just to write farewell speeches to my friends, family, students, associates and
chance encounters, my crushes and could be crushes, my relations and those who
pretended to be ones or I pretended to be theirs. Not to forget the doodhwaala
and the maali bhaiyya, the watchman oh, how I miss having
a pet now-my speech would have sounded so much more complete. And also our social Club desk ka hottie boy who always
asked my beloved, “Aaj bhabhi ji nahi
aayen?” whenever I would not come. And also suggestively, “Aaj aap bhaiyya ko chodh aaten phir!” whenever
next I would come with him! (‘chodh’ matlab leave okay) And I also always
wanted to write woh Nehru-types ‘Letters to my daughter’ giving her my pearls
of wisdom garnered through experience can’t depend on my
blog to do so now, can I?
After much calculation,
not of what to do but of how many hours are left, I put up a status on my Face
book...
“Gone in 120 hours, milna hain to abhi mil lo, waise agar 20
years of my face book life mein yeh shubh kaam nahi kiya, to aapka jeena vyarth
hain. You deserve to die before me!”
I send a mass phone text
message-“Yeh sewa 5 din baad se uplabdh
nahi hoge kyonki iska prayog karne waale bhagwan ko pyaare ho rahe hain-implying you
had your chance and lost it dodo Is liye aayen aur apna shouk prakat karen” -abe shauk nahi-shouk ya shock bhi
chalega...haye, shauk ke umar to guzar gaye hoge na ab tak!
I now look forward to a
horde of secret admirers queuing up outside the room to get a glimpse of me or
tell me before I die that they loved me as they couldn’t confess to it all
their lives ya right, you have as bad a sense of timing as bhagwan ji. Kya bhagwan,
apne prototypes he mere ass pass rakhne the? *Double hmphf!*
I imagine all my thousands
of students there whom I have served-not just with my teaching skills but also by
providing an ideal location for a date away from the zaalim duniya. They’ll come up to tell me how I changed their lives
ya rite, and also helped you brought new ones into the
world too through the relationships you forged under the tables of my classroom! I conjure up a scene where there is a stampede of
sorts outside the hospital premises and such uproar created that the media
shutterbugs soon drop in to find out what’s passing!
And to my beloved and
family members...
I gave you 50 years of my
life didn’t I? Please give me the last 5 days of it for myself- To flirt till
my little heart bursts, literally. You didn’t give me the chance to pursue my
hobby during my lifetime. Now’s the right time to do pashchaatap for it aakhir aap sab ko bhi to upar he
aana hain. Let me die a happy woman and I’ll make sure I keep good
things/breeds waiting up for you when you drop in up finally!
I really like what some
wise guy has said, “If you would not like to be forgotten as soon as you are
dead-either write things worth reading or do things worth written about”. I
have tried the former and failed, now all my money in the last 5 days would be
on the latter-just DO it!
Though my concepts of
“do”ing things is a little lop sided like I am:
Old concept: Do or die
New concept: Do before you
die
Latest concept: Don’t die
until you do
My basic concept: What to
f@#$ing do?
Okay, let’s try-may be to
eat all the food I always wanted to eat, without bothering about weight gain as if I ever bothered about it anyways,
to hand out my khoon paseene ke kamaye
hue jewellery to those who’ve been nice to me in case you haven’t, there are still 5 days to make up and technically
some 17 years actually from 2011, to give
a piece of my mind to all those who were mean to me let them suffer with my mind pieces for the rest of their blessed lives as
I have suffered with it in mine.
And then my beloved finally
asks me...
“Baby, is there something
you want?”
“Yes darling, could you
get me my beautician for a last facial. I must look good in white when you take
me.”
“But you always look good
in anything. I am sure you’d be the prettiest dead woman ever!”
“Thanks, but since it’s my
last chance, why take chances honey? I must get a new hairstyle also-one that
would look good while lying down.”
“I would miss you
sooooooooooo much”
“Awwww....I will too. But
don’t worry, I’d drop in every now and then to say “Whooo hooo, look who’s
back!” especially when you’d be doing other women.”
“Baby, haven’t you heard,
you are supposed to RIP-matlab Rest in
Peace and not RIP apart your beloved’s chances of happiness finally!”
Uffffffff, can’t even say here, “Yeh sun ne se pehle mein mar kyon nahi gaye”
coz that’s already in the cards.
So there, now I wait for
Lady Death or make it Dude Doom to come and embrace me. My signing off note:
“Ho aise maut ke yaad
rakhe yeh zamana,
Duniya waalon, mere yaad
mein aanson na bahana,
Jab zyaada yaad aaye to
upar he chale aana.
Mil kar karenge gaana
bajaana, hasna hasaane, shor machana!”
I'm soooo sorry for MIA for quiet sometime... we are literally being dumped with work in college.. :| annyyywayy, Recently we had to do a survey on what people preferred more - the Traditional markets or the glossy malls ?
Annnd we were surprised to know that most of the Women preferred the market (in spite of the swanky glossy latest offers in the mall ) while many men preferred the malls.
The reasons being :
Women
1. You can bargain and bargain and bargain your lungs out with a shopkeeper in the market.
2. The 'connection' between a shopkeeper of a market and the customer. ( Larger possibility of discounts ;)! )
3. Informal - you don't really have to be conscious when you go to a market.
Men
1. 'Bird' watching in the mall is more easier and 'classier'! (wtf! )
2. Hiding in the food court in a mall is much easier than in the market ka street food stalls!
3. Continue the 'bird' watching...
With the mall culture hitting each and every city and town, and each and every mall trying to 'out-do' one another and looking like glossy 'gift boxes', its starting to eat away the earthy markets.. Even though the market may be dirty, stinky, crowded, no AC etc., I would prefer a market shopping for the veggie smells, the 'actual' attitude of people ( the fake attitude comes out in the AC supermarkets! ), getting lost in the puzzle of gullys ( and depending on the 'people' map )... the local chaii shops and Chaat carts and bajji centres...
Even though under the scorching sun, I would def miss the Mall's Air condition and the expensive perfumed space with music in the background, I think i would be more comfortable in the market with a Umbrella and phone ka music plugged into my ears and not having people look at me and 'scan' me... ( i hattteee it when people do that in the malls! )
Images from google
Whats your take on it? Market ya mall? :) :)
At the end of the day, its all about your perception of life... :D
I'm the newest entrant here and I couldn't be more psyched about being a part of DOV. Before I start with my first post amongst the mandatory 3 for this month, I'd love to thank PV for making me land here, Red for getting me hooked on to this and Chandana for inviting me to join DOV. And taking note of Chandana's recent post Yay Maithili ;-)....
It's been on beeetch of a week this time and I've hardly found time to get on to my own blog(sob sob), but I also know that if I don't do this post today I might not get time until Wednesday next so before I head out to get myself UUIDed (you know the whole tagging yourself in the big mess that the Indian population is right now)...I'm certain I'll come back in a foul mood as I have no faith whatsoever in the government officials and I am 200% sure that they would make me bleed from my nose in the sun in the serpentine queue before they even as much glance at my form, following which the sadoo at the desk might not like my hairstyle and might say 'Amma your forehead is not seen, not good enough'...For which I would mouth 'Like I care you stupid -head with the 4-inch thick glasses!!'....It's the same all the time, isn't it? Anyhoo before the hyper mother of mine hyperventilates more on my neck let me put up the first post and vamoose...
The first thought that got into my head when Chandana told me the simple rule...'blog about anything...doesn't have to be daily...but at least 3 times a month'...Easy enough one would think, would have been a few months ago for me as well but the past few months have been sucking me dry of not just my energy but my words as well... Vacant expression is all I am left with nowadays...Curse you IT industry...you stole my gift of the gab...the sole thing based on which I've pranced my way out of a lot of things :( :( :( ....but never-the-mind...Now that I'm part of DOV and have a commitment to maintain, what better way to get back the gift than to hang out with these awesome girls, ain? OK so the simple rule: 1..2...3..4 and so it goes...
All though this has nothing to do with DOV, today being the 17th , is kinda an Anni day for the boy and me; I won't be able to give him much time today so here is what do you call it '1 scoop 2 flavours' kinda thingy (actually it's '1 stone 2 birds' but I like the flavour thing better and don't wanna harm the winged friends)....
I've loved this song from the very minute I've heard it...it's just so very very simple and easy flowing with such a lovely jingle feel about it...At 'Snooty Fox' in UK during the live performance at the bar I was seemingly enjoy my drink but when the guy started this song I felt such a lonely pang I cried all the way back home...Today I'm here...So there is only one thing to do...and that's what I'll do ....... turu ru ru....
P.S (Red I couldn't wish you on your B'day.. many belated wishes for the same...absolutely loved the straight-from-the-gut-bluntness in your post(the stalking one) and your the reason why I'm a member today...so go ahead give your self a pat girl ;-))
P.P.S (Sorry Darlings of Venus, can't dedicate this to you today have to dedicate it to the first darling of my life :), but soon enough that's what I'll do :-p )
Before I utter another word, I would like to apologize for being MIA. My laptop had crashed and my internet has funny ways to mess around (and I was feeling awkward in borrowing laptops all the time...Sigh). This post was officially meant to be posted on 14th September, so I am not changing anything in it.
Now before I go on to talk about the lady who is one of the most loved and tickles everyone’s funny bones, I have to say here, that I loved Red, the color, yes and the person Red (Handed) as we know her. ;) :D Having said that, how can I go on without saying this??
Happy Bir(Red)ay to you Redhanded! :D
I stumbled upon her blog via Anoop’s Blog and was instantly intrigued by the picture that represents her – A Pair of Red Colored Palms. I sort of expected something gory (blood et al) or even something related to law – yeah, my very first thoughts. As I was directed to her blog, I couldn’t stop reading (and grinning to myself all the while) and read all her posts in one sitting. She is THAT good. And no, just because it’s her birthday today, I am not out here to butter her, ‘cause she ain’t the one to be fooled by sweet talk.
Her posts are one of the funniest to read...and no, she is not all funny and joker-like. There is a mature and sensible heart beating in her, as I read few of her serious posts. She talks about gold, men, women, relationships. Kerala and everything that one would think of, but not out of the box. She maintains her anonymity which adds to the attraction and mystery...her blog is one of the few blogs I never forget to check. She is someone, who loves the mush I spout as equally as the nerd like researches I do on mysterious topics.
This one's for you! :D <3
I wish you Red, a brilliant happy birthday (Though I am super late and I am sorry for that :( ) And may you keep making us laugh as you do with your wit and comebacks at life. As they say, it is very easy to spill tears but very tough to make someone smile. And that, you, my friend, have achieved. :D
