Thursday, 12 November 2009

Where are my twenties going?

That's the question everyone seems to be asking around me. Not to mention that everyone I ask the question to either counter-questions me or says ,' If only I knew'. Why the sudden need for everyone to know where their lives are headed? I mean, did we care where life was going when we were 10? No. Did we care where life was going when we were 17? No. It only hits hard at when we hit that despicable number - Twenty. Then everyone's suddenly talking utter tosh about climate change and marriage and turning relationships long-term and money and investing and yada yada yada... If you ask me, it doesn't even matter. None of us know what going to happen anyway.

The only thing I know is this - if I waste all my time worrying in my twenties, I'm going to be doing something worse when in my thirties.


Now that's something I dont ever ever want to be doing.

Thursday, 24 September 2009


I am so eff-ing MAD.

The best friend called this morning after NK ditched us on a forwarded text. Seriously. A Forwarded text-message. I've realized that people who are always going on and on about open communication being the solution to any successful relationship are just a bunch of posers. The truth is and has always been relative. There are certain things that are best not spoken about, and thats final. For eg. If NK really knew what I had in mind right now, he might have regretted sending me that godforsaken 'forwarded' text message.

Now, where's my goddamn phone.

Sunday, 30 August 2009

A second thought

I don't understand why the issue with time management. I mean, there used to be a point in life when I used to have those spare minutes to spend daydreaming, and now all I'm thinking about is work. My God, I'm turning into exactly the kind of person I would've hated - A hyperventilating wage-slave of the 21st century.

Monday, 17 August 2009

If only men could move to Mars...

I'm only part-feminist - I totally disagree that men are of no use to Planet Earth.

I mean, who would change car tyres, kill lizards, kiss and cuddle, be big and warm when necessary, smell of aftershave etc. if it weren't for the good ol' boys in each of our lives. But then, that's where the fine line exists - right between the aftershave boys and the roadside morons who have no other work but to go around snatching women's bags and pawing girls on the street.

The evening went thus - I walk over to Cascade, this so-so chinese place, right near home for the regular dinner with my colleagues. Then, around 10:30, when there's quite alot of traffic and shops still open mind you, I'm walking back home. Then these two morons, zoom right past me snatching my handbag and pulling me along the road for a good 25 mts. Why would a handbag interest guys so much? I don't know. Unless they're planning to put my mascarra, liners and compact to good use.

Anyway - three stolen debit cards, stolen medical insurance, lost keepsakes, T's wallet, Ipod, Camera, tearful farewell to handbag, two days and a night in the hospital later, I can only say that if the all the world's men moved to Mars and only visited when needed, Earth might've been the bitchiest, funnest, safest planet to live in.

Thursday, 6 August 2009

How to maintain a fine balance between guy friends, girlfriends, and green tea.

I can be a lazy lump of lard when it comes to keeping in touch with everyone I know in life.

Last week, I realized that there's this deal when it comes to serious friend maintainence - the issue of too much and too few. For instance, if I call my girlfriends twice a week - they feel I'm not spending enough time with them, and I call my guy friends twice a week - they start wondering why I'm calling so often.

After a month of relentlesly fixing loose ends with friends and acquaintances of all kinds, I've come up with absolute solutions to solve all friend trouble.

1) If anyone yells at you for not keeping in touch, tell them that they are on your speed dial. It makes them feel important and saves you the time and energy for any further explanation.

2) Once they finish their rant on how you never bother keeping in touch, come up with a sad story (100% works on guys) eg. my aunt's aunt's brother's daughter died. etc. who cares, but you'll get the sympathy vote anyway.

3) I tried calling you 981249693769 times but it said 'you were busy' or not 'reachable'.

4) Blame it on work, and start complaining till their ears bleed. No-one likes it, and they'd probably understand right away.

5) Spam everyone's inboxes with forwards. That way they can never complain that they didn't hear from you. In fact, after a while they wouldn't want to hear from you either. Tch!

Friday, 26 June 2009

Yes, we are all here. And we can hear the music.

I know it must've been difficult. But I promise I'll teach my kids how to moonwalk.

Thursday, 25 June 2009

Do we see better with our eyes closed?

When I was in the fourth grade, I remember, there was this girl who carried a Bible in her hand telling everyone that she knew where paradise was. Where is it? we asked her, where? We could not wait to hear it. There weren't too many who could understand the Bible, and this girl was obviously way high up the stairway to heaven now because like , she knew stories like Samson and Delilah, and how they never had sex because it was a sin, etc. She was 12 years old that time, and 12 years was still very very senior because the rest of us were still in single digits.

Anyway, that night, when our matron had turned off the lights and put us to bed - (Yes. I went to a boarding school) we sneaked out and followed her to her cubicle in our PJ's and sat around her bed. 'So Jenny, where is paradise? Tell us.'

There were 6 other girls with me, and we were all like choking in excitement. Jenny closed her eyes, murmered something and pointed to the girl near me, ' Lil, close your eyes and tell me if you can see it'.

Then Lil closes her eyes, and does that weird murmuring thing again, and the next thing you know she does this fake passing-out act. WHOA. I mean seriously, that was soooo fake. When we shook her, she sat up and smiled, ' I saw it Jen, I saw it, it had so many lights'. And then all these other girls near me, they all start clapping and behaving like Lil and Jenny were like St. Peter and St. Mark. DUH. Lights? So I put up my hand when Jenny finished her second round of murmuring, 'I want to see Paradise. I go next'. Jenny then said hesitantly, ' Alright, close your eyes and tell me what you see'. Then I close my eyes, and guess what - I see nothing. For five minutes, I waited and waited and waited. Then I began getting frantic - but that was it, I saw nothing. When I opened my eyes, all seven of the girls were sitting on their beds staring at me with that expression on their faces.

'So, did you see anything?'

'Well, yeah,' I lied, ' I saw lights as well'. I looked at Lil and she was giving me that you-say-one-more-word-and-I'll-kill-you look.

Then Jenny stepped forward and said in the meanest tone, ' Don't be such a liar! I know you didn't see paradise, you aren't even a christian, no non-christian can see paradise.' I don't remember what exactly I did after that but I screamed and threw a pillow on her and ran out. I'd never felt that miserable in my life ever. So I closed my eyes and imagined my own paradise - you know something straight out of Enid Blyton - like someplace with wishing chairs, and all that.

Ah, but that was 1995.

Later, the whole deal about paradise changed. At 13, I couldn't care less. It was something old people had to worry about. All that mattered was life at school. Waking up every morning to see frost on the grass. Playing pranks on the boys we hated. Sending anonymous notes to the ones we had a crush on. Writing journals. Trying to catch hail when whenever it rained heavily. Running through fields.. till somewhere you stop and think, oh alright, I've got to grow up. I was attending math tutitions and sure as hell nowhere near Paradise.

Neither was I near it at 17. In Boy's arms. The feeling that nothing on earth really mattered. The one line emails that said 'Why aren't you here?'. The late night phone conversations about matters of great un-importance i.e. nothing. Wondering about the future. Talking endlessly about dreams..but then, college life eventually ended..and so if paradise were heading to, we'd lost our way long ago, and we certainly didn't want to go there together. DUH.

21 was nothing close to Paradise. Working part-time and blowing it all away on saturday nights at university. Late night cook-outs, and late mornings. Cleaning kitchens and laughing about it over breakfast. Coffee and newspapers, and intelligent talk. One night-stands seemed so passe' and long term relationships were no more as meaningful. It was the single life that mattered.. the best of the days yet to come.. but it wasn't anywhere near perfect.

I don't know.

But now, I'm shutting my journal at 9 because work is exhausting and I need a breather. Coffee is beginning to give me a headache, and the traffic makes me want to throw up. And I still haven't seen paradise. Life seems so blah - the monotony of an office routine is beginning weigh me down, and my diet has switched to anything-that-I-can-swallow-in-ten-minutes. It's now that I realise, when I shut my eyes, that all the happiest things I could think of were in the past. School, college, boyfriends, family outings, winter breaks.. and it strikes me that maybe there is a chance that paradise wasn't so far after all.

Maybe Paradise is not where we are going to, but what we are leaving behind.

Friday, 22 May 2009

Ten reasons why the past two weeks have been happy

1) Loads of chocolate cake, Rasamalai and sweet Boondhi. Setting an auspicious date to start diet, or hit the gym.

2) My maid's neighbour is dead, or so it seems. I really wonder why people die in her family every week. Ok, I actually bought it the first time when she said her brother died. Felt sad, and gave her a whole lot of sympathy, including 1 hour of listening to gruesome details of how he was murdered, and some money. But then, over the past three week, two sisters, a father, a brother-in-law and a stepson have been 'murdered'. Now, the neighbour. Like, seriously. But, I must say, she's quite a storyteller.

3) Remember that lizard in my house? Mr. Speckles? Well, like I said, he began dating while I was away. I spotted three ugly baby lizzies in the kitchen. It's sort of sweet in a very sick way, I think.

4) The UPA government is singing 'Jai Ho' and are all set to change the whole look of the Lok Sabha and all that. They're planning on getting new carpets and new tables.
(And NO, I don't think they care too much about water or power right now, dude, get a life. That's not their problem.)

5) Vellupillai 'retard' Prabhakaran has been shot down like a rat. The Sinhalese army is probably happy, but no-one could be as happy as me. I love real-life drama. Yes,I'm gross.

6)'To-be' former colleague, and partner in crime at work mentioned a few weeks ago that soon he'd be laughing his way out to freedom, while I sit at my desk slogging the rest of my contract till I drop dead. But apparently, not! Operation Freedom from American Company has finally come to pass.

7) Two random people said 'You've lost weight'. Ah, just when I needed come comfort.It made my day.

8) I had Chicken Lasagne. Twice!

9) Five new books on turning 23! with this really cute top from my sister, which my dad thought was 'completely inappropriate clothing to be worn out in my lifetime'.

10) Two entire weeks of doing nothing, but watch television, eat cake and live the Epicurean way!

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

Bangalore Bug-spray massacre in my kitchen

So all of you know how tough life can be. I mean, not just tough but sometimes so IRRITATING - like some crazy foot rash you just can't seem to get rid of. Also, I (don't) really know if its my landlord's fault - OK, I get that he's like this exotic animal enthusiast and all that, but seriously there's a limit to that -  that there is ugly,speckled, blackish- brown, slimy looking lizard in my kitchen. Now you may laugh and say ' Oh, come on, lizards are the most common creatures in an Indian kitchen' but hello, I beg to differ, this lizard just DOESN'T die.

The first time I saw it, it was just a baby. Yeah, it was disgusting and ugly of course, but it could barely climb the wall. Now since, I'm against baby killing of all kinds, I felt sorry for this abandoned baby lizard and didn't kill it.

Then the second time it showed up, it was sitting there happily. You know, it was sunbathing by the tubelight, like as if it was the Bahamas or something. It totally totally pissed me off. If my landlord was breeding exotic lizards, he might as well do it in his house right? So, to do my bit, I went to the Med store, got Lakshman Rekha and drew these godawful pink lines all over the house. But no, Mr.Speckles just skips and prances all over the Lakshman Rekha as if nothing had ever happened.

All hard work down the drain.

So the third time I tried Mortein. Not just once or twice but a whole load of times. While it did help in killing a number of cockroaches (that I didn't know existed till they all came out choking and dying), the stupid lizard didn't die. I mean, he didn't even get giddy. How can you not get giddy if I sprayed Mortein for a whole minute non-stop? ARGH!

I have to move my house. I really have to. I can't bear to live with this goddamn lizard and I'm so sure he'll soon start dating other lizards and start a family  in my kitchen. Then there'll be so many lizards that I'd have to move out anyway. Argh. I hate this.

Wednesday, 25 March 2009

My life feels like a spoof on 'Famous Five', just that the other four are missing.

OK, I can now swear hands down that my landlord is a smuggler. I mean, ok, I thought the whole 'I deal with exotic birds and endangered animals' story was quite weird when I signed my rental agreement. But it struck me when he showed me pictures of this crazy blue pigeon which was supposedly 2 crore rupees. Really, a TWO CRORE deal for a pigeon. God, so the first time he showed the pictures, I was looking around curiously to see if the darn pigeon was somewhere in his house. Hah, then point number two struck.

The apartment was SO damn small.

Funny question # 1 - Why was over-friendly dealer in exotic species living in the shabbiest part of town? Like, for instance if I had a two crore pigeon or some Persian cats or say, some strange two-headed unicorn ponies, would you stay in some decent ( not expensive but you know..'decent') place or this shabby wreck of a house? Decent place, right? Hmmm, so he's keeping low profile.

Funny question #2 - I never see him. When does he leave? And when does he enter the house? Does he have a trap door or some strange back entrance that I don't know off? Hmmm..very fishy. Also, if I do see him, it's only when I get home really really late from work. And he frantically hangs up every call if he sees me anywhere near him.


Funny question #3 - He doesn't answer unknown numbers. Now, I know alot of people don't answer unknown numbers, but my landlord doesn't answer them at all. The one time I frantically called him to ask him if a transaction had been made, he just wouldn't answer - till I sent him a text saying it was me who'd been trying to call.

Funny question #4 - Where are all these weird birds and animals? His house is just full of empty cages and aquariums.. all stacked on the top of each other, but he claims that the animals are all at home? just...WHERE? in some underground zoo?

WEIRD. I've been feeling like this is a case of Spy vs Spy. But maybe...I mean, maybe... if that two crore blue pigeon built a nest and laid eggs near my kitchen window it wouldn't be so creepy after all.

Saturday, 31 January 2009

The beginning of a trial

So, I've made up my mind to listen to his advice.

As he said :

A) We’ll get an early start tomorrow morning and try to enjoy each others’ company here in this beautiful place.

B) We’ll stop feeling sorry for ourselves. It’s not very attractive.

C) We’ll make our plans for the future.

Number of positive, happy things I've done today:

- Called about ten friends and caught up after ages. Also added the 'You guys never keep in touch' dialogue for some effect.

Felt good.

- Thought it'd be a change if I tried something new. Opted for a cup of tea this morning. Hmm. Not so bad, after all.

Felt good.

- Called mum.

Felt good.

- Wrote an extra of my thoughts in my journal.

- Felt good.

See, I told you Adi. I'll make a start!

Thursday, 29 January 2009

On Happy days and those days..

After telling myself time and time again that I shouldn't go overboard with NK, I decided to post him a letter saying how happy I was to meet him over the weekend.


Web services,
Bangalore -01

27th January 2009,

Hey you,

Gotten over the weekend? I don't think I have. It was one of the best weekends of my life. We should meet up more often you know.. I miss you so much, it was pretty sad that I'm seeing you after so long and that we still couldn't spend time with each other. Anyway just wanted to tell you I miss you. I hope you like the movie I've sent. I really want to watch 'Happy Days' you know..



It will reach tomorrow by 12 pm, the woman at the courier office told me. Thank you, I said, that'd be perfect.


Walked into the office this morning to find something lying on my desk. Had my letter been returned already? I'd just sent it last night.

Apparently it wasn't.


A& M Solicitors,
Hyderabad - 16

27th January 2009

Hey -- ,
:) I'm sending you the 'Happy Days' cd or DVD (Don't remember). I had such a great time over the weekend, thanks to you. Send me the pictures soon.My handwriting is pathetic (seek forgiveness for that). Haven't written to anyone in a long time. Writing to you after a hundred million years :). Really don't know what to say.. I'm not a writing person. This is one of my longest mails to you.

Really miss you.


P.S: The movie is really really good.. I copied it onto my comp and sending it to you.

Inside the cover was a 'Happy Days' DVD.

I don't know why I couldn't stop smiling. I just knew he'd probably be smiling too by 12 pm this afternoon. Probably that's why.

Should I worry about the recession?

Remember how I've always cribbed about life and all its pitfalls. Apparently I was doing too much of it post Dec 31 2008 and my boss decided to bring it up this morning.

'Uhm? Are you OK?'

Yeah right, I'd be okay. Who'd be OK after finding out that

1) I've become three kilos heavier
2) that the doc says I'm allergic to Bananas, lime and fish
3)Which meant that I cannot have Vanilla icecream and Banana slices or Banana slices sprinkled with sugar, or Fried Kerala Bananas, or tandoori chicken with tangy lime,or musambi juice or lemonade or lemony mocktails or lemony sweets or lemony anything
4) And to top it all off, my company has frozen pay hikes to save themselves.

I kindly decline the offer to spend a completely non-probematic, non-complain-y New Year.