In Italics

I put down my book, look at it once more cos I always feel like it is asking me to spend some more time with it. My eyes roll and rest on the pillow next to me. I let myself be led to sleep.

As my head finds solace in the comfort of the pillow, I drift. I can hear the soft sound of the rain outside, a slight drizzle and then a little, slender downpour — like the sound of a pressure cooker, just before it whistles.

I can hear the noise down below, cars honking, autos accelerating, fueled by curses of another victim of inflation. My ears strain to listen to a song from the comp in the adjoining room, I satisfy myself with just the faint murmur of the drums.

And then I let my dream take over. It takes me back in time. Sometimes I feel, I dream just what I want to dream, like its a conscious process, like I am taking myself back to that happy place, to nice beginnings, to that space within me where I truly want to be. To a place that gives me joy.

And to a place where its just you and me and no one else. There is silence and an unsettling din, all too calm and yet chaotic, all too static and yet somehow, the world is in motion. Yes, its just You and Me.

I feel like I am walking with you, holding hands on your favorite lane, brimming with trees, beautiful darkness, broken by golden glints from the streetlights and that soothing breeze that whispers softly, but lucidly, that you belong to me. I smile.

I smile at what I feel for you, content with the fact that you feel the same for me, so what if we don't get to talk, so what if we don't get to express and, really, so what if we, sometimes bow down to circumstances — as long as we don't let the feeling die a natural death, in the process.

I wake up, half-dreaming, half sensing reality, half-wanting to go back to sleep, but in entirety wanting to be with you.

And I float in the happiness, of what I become when I am with you.

Its weird how a dream can make you forget the insecurity, the need for reassurance, the fact that one day we would stop feeling, the fact that you might not belong to me. An entire existence in that one moment.

And then, I wonder how it will be without you.

Will I have the faith to dream again?

As unsure as the 'I' in 'Italics.'

World's Most Boring Post

New Post. Blank page. Cursor blinking, waiting to transform into meaningful words. Something that seems to have become increasingly difficult. Nevertheless...
.................

I was watching An Inconvenient Truth last weekend. It shocked me. Global warming seemed like just another hot topic for people to discuss when they had nothing much to talk about. It became a part of those intellectual-pretentious conversations when the speaker and the listener both pretend to care. I was one of the skeptics. The documentary, which I consider one of the best, shocks the living day lights out of you. Makes you really think and that I think are signs of a brilliant documentary. We really aren't doing enough. It's definitely more than just a problem. Climate variations, weird weather transitions--cant blame western disturbance anymore. Has Bangalore ever been so hot? If we wait for the globe to wake up to rising mercury, we need to first switch off the lights in our part of the world. Like they say: 'Charity begins at home'!

..................

I have been working like a donkey. People tell me I am married to work. And that means I have the world's most boring husband! Not that my work sucks, I love it, just that I seem to have no life beyond it. I wish I had. The problem is, I think I have, but I am not doing much to go out there and explore possibilities. I do need a break.

..................

Cricket season. I am totally out of the 'league'. I used to love the game, I was what they call a 'freak'! But this whole IPL thing isn't as exciting as its being made out. I tried watching a couple of matches, dint appeal to me at all. I somehow felt like its too commercial and that it has taken the beauty away from the game. People owning teams and players on auction--sounds more like a bid-to-win reality show. Not working for me!

...................

Priyanka Gandhi met her father's killer, Nalini. Or did she? Does it really matter? Is that something worth debating? I am not sure. But I was thinking about all those kids who have seen their parents blowing up in Kashmir, or parents of children who lost their lives in the Upahaar tragedy, or those faceless killers that force farmers to literally go to hell. Priyanka Gandhi meeting her dad's killer is a big deal? Me thinks not.

....................

I am using my credit card like no man's business. I actually don't know what to do with my salary, so I spend on anyone and everyone who wants something! Yeah right, like I am Richie Rich.

.....................

And right now, I wish I really had something to write about, cos this post is boring the shit outta me.

.....................

Weekends are tiring. I prefer going to work. Well, I have my reasons for that! But then, there's just so much time that I wish I could travel. I wanna go to Hampi and Coorg. I wanna go to Yercaud. And I really don't mind going alone!!!! Simply cos, I don't know who would wanna come with me!

.....................

I am reading this book called the Red Tent by Anita Diamant. Beautifully written. A story of betrayal and trials of women of a time many eras ago. (don't know if this sentence is grammatically correct, but love these words ;) ) Gives a lot of room for vivid imagination. Definitely a page-turner.

......................

I am also dealing with emotions that cant be a part of this world wide web. Before I give in to the urge of spilling the beans here, I shall shut up.

....................

I am sorry that I am so boring.

But...

Wanna travel with yours truly??

Its Only Words, And Words That I Dont Have

.... and ..... and some more ....!

I cant write. I am not able to string two words together, I am not able to make a sentence that's cool, that can make the reader go 'wow', that can make some sense, if nothing else. I am so disappointed in me. And therefore, I decided to let the world wide web know. Know that I CANT WRITE.

Not one idea, not a single idea. Was it the story or was it me? I thought and thought. Irrespective of the time of the day, irrespective of company, irrespective of the environment (yuck! environment?? See what I mean?) I only kept thinking, but no, goddess or god or whatever of creativity completely ditched me. I was sure I am gonna be thrown outta work. I wanted to go jump down the tenth floor! (even going to the loo, dint work!)

I actually gave up, well, not jumping, I really wasn't serious about that. I gave up on me. I gave up on the only thing I think I can do. WRITE.

And then I felt like shit. I cried. I know, its kinda whatever to cry. (did i just say whatever?) I pushed the story to my so-called immediate boss. And honestly, I dint wanna ever read it again. But I did, not once, but twice. What he made outta it was atleast readable.

I hate this sulky wordless post. But I had to get my writelessness out of my system. And the best way to do that was to WRITE!!

I dont believe creativity was on a holiday, somehow sounds more like an excuse. I dint try and thats that. Next time, no giving up, I guess. Cos trust me, it feels like, I dont know what it feels like. Actually I cant get the appropriate word... Damn! there I go again...

I want to suffer from verbal diarrhea.

Cluttered Output

Its been quite a while since I blogged. My last post was a month back, technically, last year! I was wondering what to write. I didn't what to do the usual year-end post, cos the year that was, was very very eventful and I wouldn't be doing justice if i were to write about just all that. And this is the worst opening ever!

I was just watching 'we the people' on Ndtv. The discussion circled around the impact blogs are creating in the world and in India as a nation. It was interesting, but there was nothing new. It was not informative in any sense of the word. It kept coming back to sex, being gay, and all those things. One of the panelists actually said "well there are some 'good' blogs as well"..so did she mean sex is bad? Hypocrisy is THE word.

I digress. its been a weird beginning, 2008 seems not so different from 2007. Not yet. I know it just started and stuff, but still.. Damn I sound like such a boring person, maybe I am turning into one. But I am surely turning into an A grade Bitch. I am fighting weird emotions, I am fighting me, I am fighting people. Basically, just not all that great. Why am I saying all this here? Cos I felt guilty about not blogging, about not writing, about not keeping in touch with a very close friend, about getting too close to someone else, about giving in to unwanted thoughts, about just not thinking clearly, about neglecting a lot of things, about being pissed with myself and the world too often.

Not over yet. About expecting too much. I watched Taare Zameen Par. I wont say it was great. It said a lot, it was different, it was moving. But, it was also dragging and too much effort was put in to make it off-beat, and it showed. Aamir Khan is a perfectionist, yes. But he is too much of himself in the second half. Darshan was pretty good, a natural actor. But again, it was a good movie, not great. The subject was worth exploring, though I felt a lot could be done.

I still don't understand men. At all. They all seem the same, but each so distinctly similar! what the hell.. I am also guilty of letting them affect me too much. I will NEVER learn.

I still don't understand if editorial is more important or marketing. is it ok to compromise for the sake of design? Why does the boss always decide how to 'cover' up the 'issue'? Cos thats why he is the BOSS?

I still don't understand how relationships work. Is being single more boring than being committed? Is it ok to flirt around? And then get emotional about it....?

I still don't understand why I listen to the same song a million times and then detest it cos i have heard it a million times..Or am I just really really weird?

I still don't understand why people talk to me and why I talk to them, why cant everyone talk to everyone else?

I still don't understand why I post something as stupid as this...

Anyway, not that my opinion will change the world, not that it is important but somewhere it has to be voiced! ;)

My journo Prof. always told me "a cluttered mind leads to cluttered output!"

Therefore... Pardon Me.

Something About Nothing

Someone asked me the other day, Tom Cruise or Matt Damon? I was submerged in Bourne Ultimatum so Matt Damon, I said.

Someone asked me, Vodka or Tequila,Vodka meant malaysia and madness, so vodka, I said.

Someone asked me, Rahul Dravid or Roger Federer, Rahul lives in my backyard, so Federer I said.

Someone asked me, apple or orange, someone else likes apples too much, Orange, I said.

Someone asked me, workshop or just work, workshop is hours of lecture, no head or tail, just mutually understandable yawns, so just work, I said.

Someone asked me, football or cricket, football is just 90 minutes of red cards and yellow, so Cricket, I said.

Someone asked me, office or college, Office is just work, work, work gossip and fun, so College, I said.

Someone asked me, tech writing or sports journalism, I cant write for long about stuff I really don't understand, so Sports journalism, I said.

Someone asked me, sunrise or sunset, sunrise is beginning of a new day, so sunset, I said.

Someone asked me, harry Potter or a thousand splendid suns, harry potter is brilliantly fantastic, so a thousand splendid suns, I said.

Someone asked me, late night dance party or a long walk, two left feet, so long walk, I said.

Someone asked me, facebook or orkut, gmail I said.

Someone asked me, Tiramisu or Dairy Milk, Tiramisu is yum, so Dairy Milk, I said.

Someone asked me, mail or msg, virtual is not real, so Talk, I said.

Someone asked me, boy friend or just friends, boy friend is not happening for whatever reason, so just friends, I said.

Someone asked me, single or committed, everyone is either single or committed, so OR, I said.

Someone asked me, something or nothing, I said well, nothing in particular, but I wish I could say something.

Truly Asia!

I know I know, I have been Malaysiaing to everyone ever since I came back from a four day conference from Kuala Lumpur. But I have only Malaysia to blame.

I was really neither keen nor excited about it. I actually dint wanna go. I was going through the-please-leave-me-alone phase. But that was not to be. Malaysia changed a lot of things for me.

So, the first day we land in KL and then take a two-hour bus ride to Genting Highlands which is 4500 mtrs above sea level. The roads all seemed not very different from bangalore, except that they were wider and cleaner. Cars and bikes would catch your eye for an instant. if you notice that is. We reach Genting and get on to a cable car which would take us to the First World Hotel (third world people in first world hotel hehe) It is supposed to be the fourth largest in the world with more than 6000 odd rooms. It was Massive! And people who are geographically challenged like me are advised not to venture alone.

The cable car was taking us deeper and deeper into the clouds, the green below was merging with the white above, at one point of time all we could see was mist! Pure white mist..Its so weird, we cant see when its pitch black and we cant see when its pure white...Naked truth of sorts!!

The ride over, the excitement, hardly. We are assigned rooms and told to assemble for lunch. we do as directed. I was hungry as hell. the minute we stepped into the buffet, our sensory organs started working overtime. There was food everywhere. P introduced me to this delicacy called 'Satay', its nothing but chicken on a stick, to be very very basic, doused in peanut sauce. YUMMMY...after I allowed it in, there was nothing else I wanted. It was heaven served on a stick!!!!

Post two days at Genting and a lot of work, we move to KL. Two hour drive again..We catch the glimpse of the Petronas! Beautiful..Read in papers, seen on TV, never thought I would be standing under it one day. Life!

KL has an amazing night life. I made full use of the anonymity the city gave me. Went clubbing for three nights, got sloshed, danced on the table, forgot the world..Just what I needed..

More than the prima facie experience, Malaysia taught me much more than anything else ever could. it made me question commitment in a relationship, it made me think about how true a person can be to himself and to someone waiting back home. How drunk can you get to forget or make the inebriated state an excuse to forget and give in to temptations? How can not being in control of yourself, give you freedom? What freedom?

How far would you go with a guy ( a guy you really are attracted to) who is already in a relationship? Is it just about the opportunity? The opportunity of him being available for that instant..I dont know.. I dont know whats right and wrong..do you?

Anyway, perceptions are different. Malaysia was an experience of a lifetime. On the flight bac, I brought with me a lot of memories and a few lessons learnt.

The biggest being "The most predictable thing about life is its unpredictability"....

Nothing is as true as that...

Nothing is as true as Truly Asia!

Picture Abhi Baaki Hai Mere Dost....

What happens when you go with an intention of watching 'Jab We Met', buy tickets for 'Saawariya' but end up watching 'Om Shanti Om'? You come back with a smile on your face.

OSO, as they call it, was not a movie I was dying to watch ever since I saw the promos. I thought Shah Rukh Khan looked too old with his six packs, Deepika looked too pretty, the set looked too made up and everyone seemed like they were trying too hard. I could not connect with anything. I read the review, like i always do, but I have never taken any review seriously, i have to watch the movie myself to say anything about it. And so i did!

I am not a Shah Rukh Khan fan. But he is a people's actor, he gives them what they want and he works his 'abs' off to do it! I admire him, and thats that. Or so I thought. His best performance to date for me is Swades. He was Mohan Bhargav and not Shah Rukh Khan.

Om shanti om in all its entirety celebrates Indian Cinema. Cinema with all its extravagance, illogic, cliched dialogues, manmohan desai style milna-bichadna, purely co-incidental, naach gaana, hundred costumes in one song, poor boy- rich girl, the maa and her dil, the kaash aaj tere pitaji zinda hote, the aaj se bees saal pahle (and beyond). The audience loved the 70s.

I have grown up watching a lot of seventies. So much so, that I can tell the name of the movie by just looking at a scene. I cant say the same about the 90s though. I am yet to come across an actor as brilliant as Amitabh Bachchan (Anand, Agneepath, Chupke Chupke, zanjeer, sholay, Deeewar), as natural as Shammi kapoor, not exactly 70s( Teesri Kasam,Junglee, Brahmachari, andaz) as romantic as Rishi Kapoor( khel khel mein, bobby,Kabhie kabhie, karz) , as versatile and effortless as Sanjeev Kumar ( you have to watch Koshish, Sholay, Khilona, Pati Patni aur Vo) as intense and as good looking as Vinod Khanna.

Not to forget the beautiful Smita Patil, Shabana Azmi (watch Arth, mirch masala) Rekha in Umrao Jaan and Khoobsurat, Jaya Bhaduri in Abhimaan, Mili, Guddi, Koshish and Sholay. Sharmila Tagore in Aradhna, Amer Prem, chupke chupke. Outstanding.

Also Amol Palekar with movies like Baton Baton mein and Golmaal. Naseeruddin Shah in masoom, sparsh and mirch masala. There was a bad bad villian, there was a too good to be true hero, then there was hero vs the establishment (mostly during the emergency) milna- bichadna still continues. Numerous love triangles, one very well made that I distinctly remember is 'Sangam.' My friends in school used to tell me, i need to go with the times. But i am a 70s fan and I love it.

Which is also why I loved OSO. yes, the dialogues could have been better, screenplay less dragging, but at the same time attention was paid to the details. In every sense of the word, OSO is an innovative movie. I felt it showed the routine re-incarnation drama with a million elements and that to me is intelligent cinema. You get the feel of that era, there is a subtle connect with Karz, only if you wanna see it. There is a lot of exaggerated play up of emotions, there is that trademark music.

Post-thirty years, running around trees is replaced by item numbers, the actor or the main lead has more say in the movie than the director himself. Cinema is more real but at the same time more plastic.

Arjun Rampal was superb. Deepika can act. Shah Rukh Khan looks sexy with the six packs. Shreyas Talpade's timing is brilliant. Kiron Kher's rendition of Nirupa Roy is worth watching.

Music was not bad either. The title track and 'ankhon mein teri' are songs you take with you. I also liked 'kaise naino se nain milaon sajna!'

OSO was a blend. The struggle of a junior artiste, a filmi mother, star struck Om, so much in love, the villain with his cruelty, pappu his best friend forever and the love for cinema. It was entertaining. It was colourful. I laughed till I cried. After a long time, I was taking back with me just the feel good factor. Happys Endings!

It was special cos I watched with one of my bestest friends. An evening I wont forget for a long time to come.

Tum bore to nahi hue na?

Thenks!

Shit Happens

Yes, I know. I know I have written this several times over and some more. But now its not for me. This is for a dear friend who is special in a special way, someone whose poetry goes beyond mere words, someone whose writing amazes me every time I read it and someone who I have grown to admire each passing day. But, this is not about her. Its about what she feels and what she feels is important.

This seems like its going nowhere, but it is. We always have questions, I have many, all the time about everything. Some of my questions hardly have an answer, when i cant find them, I write. I also write when I find them. Questions like why people meet when they have to part? Or why people decide that its time they parted ways? And when they do come back for whatever reason, what do you do? Welcome them with arms wide open or say screw you too?

No, its not about love. Not at all. Its about friendship and the love within. Ok that sounds weird, I shall rephrase. Its about memories, gathered, nurtured, fallen and gathered again. Enough and more to fill a life time. 'Memories' is not a plural of 'memory'.

What do you do when a friend walks out on you? A friend who meant more than life itself, who meant music beyond orchestra, who meant poetry beyond prima facie phrases, who meant all that and much more. You go back to all those songs that dint mean the same once. Those conversations that lasted hours, when time was just another word. So now are they all meaningless? Or had I forgotten that nothing lasts forever? Or was I expecting too much?

What do you say when they tell you 'I dont feel the closeness anymore, I have changed, not you?' without realizing that everything changes for the 'you' post-profound-statement... It happened to me, not once but several times over, it happened to her and I am sure it happens to you too...But only because something happens so often it doesn't mean life is like that! Or maybe it does, I don't know.

My best friends have walked out, moved away, without a warning, a sign or a signal. But if you know them well enough, you would understand that they have better things to do than making memories with you. Thats a sign, you choose to ignore. Well, I chose to ignore.

I was telling her, I cant write about this cos my wounds have healed or i have scratched them so bad that they don't bleed anymore. I am immune, or so I thought. Her wounds are fresh, mine don't seem any different. But i am only wounded, not dead yet! Neither is she.

Life goes on, people change, you change too. Sorry for sounding like an introductory paragraph of some crappy psycho book, but its true. What remains is the M word. What do you do with those?

For you, my friend I have only this to say:

'Meet and part is the scheme of life, Part and meet is the hope of life'

Shit happens. We need to learn how to flush, now and again and forever.

19, Dravid

1996: An eleven year old, young girl, surfs through boring TV channels, looking for a reason for the invention of television. She finds it. A ball running towards the boundary, a fielder hopelessly behind it. Camera moves, batsman in frame. Girl has never seen him before, cricket was still Sachin Tendulkar for her, like everybody else.

Things changed. He had arrived, but right now only for testing times. Scoring a 95 on debut versus England, he found himself replacing an injured Manjrekar. He was the new rising star. Not yet.

But for the girl, he was the new idol. What struck her was his silent aggression, his determination, his temperament and his way of silencing his critics. When he was on the field, only his bat spoke. In an age of swashbuckling, stylish batsmen, no. 19 jerseyed Dravid played all strokes in the book to perfection. Branded as technically sound but slow (BTW he is the fastest to reach 9000 runs in test cricket, breaking Brian Lara's record by one innings), he found himself splashed in sports pages of dailies, but couldn't find a spot in the one-day squad.

That was then. Batting at No. 3, 4, 5, 6, keeping wickets, even bowling, he did everything in his might for the team and some more. His batting hardly failed him, his gut never. Girl had a new definition for cricket. Rahul Dravid.

From being a 'defensive' batsman, to standing shoulder to shoulder with the best batsmen in the world, finding his name etched in records previously broken, made and shared, Dravid had become more than just another name. He had become an ambassador of consistency, grit and team spirit. Girl came to know him as the 'wall'. Girl doesn't like labels.

So, the 'Wall' that has now crumbled as they say, is the only player to have scored a century against every test playing nation away from home. First Indian batsman to have scored five double centuries, each bigger than the other. Girl witnessed all. A silent, but loyal spectator.

Waiting for a wicket to fall, just to see him bat, waiting for him to take on the field, snatching the ball from the air at a speed of naughts, taking the most amazing catches fielding at a spot known as the 'slip'!

Today, dropped from the side, he doesn't need this post. But, the girl needs to tell him that he is, was, and will be her hero, now and forever. He needs to know that he has been the teacher, the guide, the mentor. He needs to know that he has provided the game of cricket with a follower who wanted to be like him, but who realized that being Dravid is not easy.

Cricket is not going to be the same. Just not going to be the same.

No. 19 Dravid, will walk again, this time to prove a point to those in the selection committee. You say, its no big deal? For the girl, it is.

For the girl it is because the cover drive still haunts.

143 Really?

I have conveniently, and for long, avoided writing about something so close to everyone's heart, literally. Its a question that refuses an answer to itself. I am not going to ask that profound question, cos I am sure, none of us can answer. In these 22 years of inconsequential existence, I have experienced being in the four letter word. Probably i would never say it.

I have fallen deeply, head over heels. I have fallen miserably too. Like everybody else. I could never understand how a person can like two people at once, or why are there certain norms to be followed in a relationship. What is the difference between being close friends and being in a relationship? Lust?

It all seemed fake after a point of time. It seemed mechanical, i mean, a relationship should be respected, the 'other' should be. No matter what. Why I say it seemed mechanical, simply because of the way a relationship is perceived

"you have a boy friend ? or are you single?" (no I think I am double)
" So u like him?''
"when are you planning to tell her?"
" are you going out with him?"
"what did she say? rejected or accepted?" (like its a job offer)
" so he dumped you? you guys broke up?"
"what you gonna do now, i think you should just move on, you deserve better."

Thank you very much. I know I should move on, but who answers my questions? Can you? you wont know how it was cos you are not me and I am not you. The stupidest thing to say, once somebody loses the other, is 'get over'. I can fake it too and say yeah man everything is cool, its over and then reconcile saying it was never meant to be. really?

How does someone become so important that you forget the world? everything previously associated with something else, just goes back to that one person. why? I don't know. really.

The feeling with which everything started, loses its way to a truckload of crap all brought upon by the self. Do I regret falling for someone? I don't. It felt right then, it feels right now. i feel love like i feel everything else. Its a FEELING.


I was losing it. I wasn't living up to expectations, those that I have from myself. I have lost myself in the process, it is an evolution in itself. thats when I realized it probably is not my cup of tea. I can be in love, but never say it. ever.

Being in love is different for different people. you can be in it, but not necessarily be in a relationship. I can be in love forever, but what am i committed to? to being in love or the person? What exactly is commitment?

The feeling of being in love is exciting to say the least, its up to me to let myself loose or say no way, its not for me. But the question is do i have the guts or whatever it takes to think of someone as a prospective 'other'? probably not, I would prefer watching the action from the sidelines. Really?

I would be lying if I say, I don't wanna be in love. Really. Maybe I am, right now, maybe not. Anyhow the point is I don't have whatever it takes to say it. I 'really' don't.

1 4 3 is just a number. And love is just another four letter word.

This post in all its totality is nonsensical and therefore can be ignored.

But do 143? Really? but who is you?

I shall keep it to myself. Really.

F>R>I>E>N>D>S

A-5. My school bus stops in front of our apartment gate. Students step out into the scorching 2:30 pm sun, glad and tired after a day's work. I help my brother down and we cross the road with a bunch of other school mates. Ansari Bhaiya stands near the gate, envelopes in hand, doing his cutomary duty, that of guarding our homes.
"bhaiya meri koi chitthi aayi hai, koi courier, kuch bhi?"
Yeah right, like I am a celebrity waiting to read fan mails.
But he has never said no. Ansari bhaiya never says no. He nodded and I jumped.

"appa ke liye hai, koi bank se aaya hai. ye lo". He smiles and gives me water to drink. "bahut dhoop hai na, tum logo ko ye iskool vaale dopahar ko kyun chodte hain?"

"bhaiya kabhi to chodte hain na, ab iskool mein rehna kaun chahata hai?" He raises his hand at the mention of 'iskool', as I run away. He has helped me in more ways than one, bought tennis balls when we lost ours, fought with boys for us, conspired with us in fooling the boys on april fool's day! I have conversed with him about his family and his life as a security guard. He has advised me on several occasions to behave myself and act like a girl should, "varna tumse koi shaadi nahi karega, batadeta hoon main". All those moments remain in me.

Today, I don't know where he is.

--------
I leave office at a peak traffic hour. Cross one road, walk some distance and then stop. Bangalore roads have signals at the most bizzare places and four policemen manning a four lane road. Result: confusion.

From somewhere a hand comes and holds mine.
"baa maa" I obediently follow this blue sareeed old lady, wrinkled-hands of steel. We cross successfully, she beams at me like we have just crossed the english channel, I smile and walk away. She stops as she needs to cross another road. For some reason I turn and wave at her, she smiles and waves back, shouting "Nagamma". I am guessing thats her name.

Today, I don't know where she is.

--------

"sadhana! epudi irrukai ma?"( how are you) Nobody has ever called me so lovingly. He used to, unfailingly. Always. "you dont meet me these days, nor do you come this side, everything alrite?" He gets out of the car, opens the door for me to sit and there begins a rendezvous. Dorai uncle is the best Driver my mama ever had, he talks about my cousins and how they have grown up and spend less and less time with parents. Telling me in a way, not to indulge in the same. I nod. He looks at me and says, "you know when I was small....." his voice trails off and I am spellbound by his pre-independence tales...

Today, I don't know where he is.

---------

A broken knee, a torn jeans, a bag on my back. I stumble and stagger towards my college food court, the usual post-accident scene. I see him, pot-bellied, dark, white moustache. He takes my bag and helps me with torn papers waiting to slip out of my wounded hands. Subramaniam, my favourite security guards and one of the most valuable friends I managed to gather from Christ College.
He helped me all the way to the bloody third floor, (these people love to give our question paperson the himalayas) all my other friends were studying.

Today, I don't know where he is.

---------

"tibban aaytha ma?" (have u had tiffin?)
"aaythu" pause..
We pass the sixth floor. The lift moves, he says "too much traffic these days, how do you manage?" I just smile...
Evening arrives. I get back into the lift and he presses 0. He is buys reading the newspaper, I ask him, what do you do the whole day in the lift, going up and down?"
"nothing, listen to other people's conversations, heheheh"
"whats your name?"
"Kimraj. nimma hesaru?"
"sadhana"
"ah! monday ok? byebye"
I smile.

Today, I know where he is.

-------
Phone rings. A familiar name.
MT-"hello"
"hi, how are you?"

MT-"fine. so tell me."
"I am wearing a white shirt today"

MT- "so?"
"I thought you always liked me in white"

Call gets cut...
Me thinks does my opinion matter, did it ever?

Today, I know where he is....

Does that make a difference?

Today, I know where he is........

Guilty As Charged

I am angry. For several reasons than one, but I am really pissed with the way these people have treated our hockey players. I am using too simple words but this is anger speaking.When we say 'Indian team', its understood or rather is a given that we are talking abt the Indian Cricket Team. Yes we won the world cup, a couple of days back, yes it was a great match, yes I blogged about it. But I myself did not blog about the hockey team's victory, nobody I know did. What does this say about us? about me?? I am angry with me.

Indian cricket team beat australia by 15 runs, good job. India beat Pakistan in a bowl out(when there is a tie in the final scores a bowl-out is called for akin to shoot out in football), India beat england by 18 runs, India beat SA by 37 runs...All good wins, but close ones. Iam not taking anything away from the cricketers, I watched every match, without blinking an eye. I knew every player in every team, mostly, by heart. I can recognise them from the way they walk, stand or talk. Everything from batting line-ups to players unfit. Just about everything.

The hockey team (no 'india' here) beat the balls outta their opponents. India beat sri lanka by 20 goals, yes it means 20-0. Thailand 16-0. Pakistan 3-1 South Korea 7-2. I would like to mention here that South Korea is more than a formidable team. Its the Australia of hockey, its easier to understand that way isnt it? But is it good enough to earn the team 3 million dollars?

Not that ist not, just that they cant. Simply cos, the IHF unlike BCCI doesnt have sponsors, therefore not enough money. BCCI is the richest board in the world, maybe thats why members of the board and the politicians occupied the front row, waving shamelessly to the camera men, as if they toiled in the field.Yuvraj's six sixes got him a crore, a porsche car, match fees obviously and some more. This is minus the selling products campaign.

The whole Indian hockey team got just Rs. 50,000. A bonus of 1000 for each goal scored!! A huge hue and cry over that too... Sahara sponsors both hockey and cricket in India. While, the men in blue got a luxury house each, the hockey team dint even get a brick.Today, the Indian cricket team is back in India. A grand welcome. The hockey team is on a hunger strike, fighting for their rights. Who is gonna give them a morsel?

I cant, cos I am as guilty as the administration.
I had to google most hockey facts.

Guilty as charged.

Bas Ek Naam IN-DI-A

'Itihaas bhi kabhi pahli baar hua tha'

Said Dhoni on the front page of the Times of India. I normally dont read sports news before an important match. Simply cos the 'media' of which I am very much a part , takes the bunch of eleven hard working players to the peak, dangerously increasing the expectations of a nation that suffers from cricket mania. And then pushing them down from that pseudo peak to ground zero.

But, on 24th Sep. 2007, I did read that bit of news. That one line, a quote for the journalist and a statement for Team India, forced me to stop and rethink. (I also got excited cos I had just found a status msg for myself!). Here was a young captain of an even younger side, exhubing confidence of having beaten the 'kangaroos' convincingly, saying with a firm head on his shoulders, that history does repeat itself, but to repeat it has to happen atleast once.

1996, the year I actually started following serious cricket, a cricket beyond Sachin Tendulkar. I genuinely got interested in the game, thanks to Dravid's cover drive. A few months hence, and a couple of nail biting victories later, I was there. A number in the multitudes that love the game and a tad inch closer to understanding the sport. Thats when it ceased to remain just a game.

I played with the boys, even though I was always a fielder on the far end of the ground where the ball would think twice before reaching. I got myself trained, standing behind the stumps, like an idiot. Fast bowler from the far end, inside the nets there isnt much place. The ball mistakes me for the stump and I get hit right on my abdomen. Pain. Excruciating pain. I quit.

Why I narrated this unimportant incident here is just to say that I know how difficult it is to run with those pads on, to adjust yourself to see through the helmet, to make yourself comfortable with the leather ball, to get used to the pain is a pain in itself. Its more of a mind game. Which is where the amount of respect I have for Cricket comes from.

The men in Blue have been through a match-fixing scandal, have lost a world cup, have had an early exit from another, have struggled overseas, have been dubbed as chokers, have never had a steady opening combination, have had several wicket-keepers or bastmen, but not one wicket-keeper batsman, have reached the finals several times and lost. In the process, lost on a heavy chunk of people who call themselves 'cricket lovers'. At a time when the team needed the nation, it got brickbats. I could never understand the lack of faith. Yes, I did feel devastated, shattered, but wouldn they feel worse?? Its their job. And trust me, they want to win too!

Today, however, is a different day. We just won the twenty-twenty world cup. This shorter version of the game has been debated,discussed and dissected. Now, it will be accepted even by those who worship test cricket and are afraid of its extinction. Cricket will survive in any and every form. Detractors will always be there, its about how you play it. Whether its five days, fifty overs or twenty, doesnt really matter. Had we lost it would have been a different ball game altogether...hmm..for the media, definitely...

Here is to a team that has been fearless, passionate, persevering and deserving.
To the former team that has been same as above.
To the team that won the 1983 world cup.
Gave us something to cheer about.
Took us out of our mundane lives.
Made us realise that it aint over, till its over.
To those commentators who made english sound like such an interesting language.
To Tony Greig, Harsha Bhogle, Ravi Shastry.
To Sachin, Ganguly, Dravid.
To those who made it to team India.
To those who dint, 'quitting isnt worth the effort'.
To Dhoni and his entire team.
To Bhai for introducing me to the game.
To Pricky, who was the only person other than me who believed we would do it, no matter what..

From the bat to the ball,
From the backs to the 'wall'
Team India never had a great Fall
It was not just a status msg. after all!!!!!!

In the end what matters is..
Bas Ek Naam IN-DI-A....

BTW

Why wasnt the Indian hockey team all over the newspapers when it won the Asia Cup beating South Korea, a team known for its better deal with the stick? More importantly, why did'nt I blog about it, if i call myself sport lover? What exactly defines the 'times' of India?

Nothing much, Iam just wondering about the 'IN-DI-A' bit...
Thats all..

Just a Ping Away...

Torn pages
from a diary.
Twisted dog ears,
Traces of memory...

A flash of thought,
Spills over like
a forgotten bookmark
from sandwiched shards of nothingness..

I wipe it out from
time to time
Enough of this mist
Enough of wordless mime.

It comes back,
like an old story
in a new cover
But the issue is closed...

Weird it is,
this juxtaposition,
Mind against the heart
In terrible opposition...

Between a dream,
and a bygone nightmare,
a severed thread lingers
completely in despair..

Open arms, I waited
for a long lost gesture
Demolished...
My own annihilation..

I search in vain
for a little more pain..
But what do I gain?

Just a phony call
that found its way
saying, 'I was just a ping away'..

Sorry, a network problem..
You are no more connected..
The issue is closed....
Exactly a ping away...

Tu Bhai hai to apun bhi behen hai!

Actually, I really dont think I should blog about this cos the guy in question, is being very nasty with me right now, he just threatened with hand gestures, to shut down the comp. But because I dont take such things to heart, I shall continue..probably he does'nt know he is being written about! Blame it on the innocence of his age or should I admit, his 'I-care-a-damn' attitude?


Whatever the reason, (see even I dont care!), the point is this is a post waiting to be blogged. When I was in the eighth standard, our class teacher told us that we need to celebrate rakhi! we were shocked. Most of us were open mouthed and dumbstruck for very obvious reasons. Thats the kuch kuch hota hai phase and this lady was telling us to do a bhaiya mere rakhi ke bandhan ko nibhaana...She was like all the girls will buy one rakhi each and all the boys should get something for the girls..fair enough...but the problem is, its according to your bloody roll number, so if u happen to be romantically inclined towards anyone around your roll call, then thats the end of the knight in shining armour and farewell to the dreamgirls...

I personally was not in favour of encouraging such a blasphemous relationship. I have a brother at home and I dont need to add to that number. This is the only place where I can bitch abt him and Iam making use of this golden opportunity...


So, when I was really small, and he was minus four smaller than me, we had a fight. Whats new? lots actually. Our fights have always seen the glint of new age weapons, it was never hit-with-whatever-you-find. Thats not how real warriors fight, thats random self-defence. The weapon in question here is a punching machine.. He hit me hard with it, on my back. And that was just the beginning of my romance with back injuries, that keep reminding me, in Arnold the great's famous words - "I will be back".

Years later, when we matured into responsible individuals, we got a new TV at home. Its USP for us was definitely the remote. U have the remote, u have the control, thinking thus, a deal was made and it was mutually decided to give each other a day with the remote. one day for me, one day for him. It was the fastest deal in the history of independent India, there was no one 'left' to oppose it anyway! thanks to my parents who firmly believed in hum do hamare do..

And then reality hit hard, we were informed that we were gonna vacate the delhi house and move to bangalore, for good. That was probably the first time that we realised we live in the same house. That was the beginning of a completely weird relationship.


We grew up, he did, definitely. He got friends, a nice bunch. He has always been the dominating kind, his following thus, is a bunch of wayward kids who look upto him. And he loves it and I love that. Temper plays around his nose, and he makes no attempt to silence it. I am not scared of it though, maybe Iam but thats just a wee bit.

We used to play a lot together, even though we had our own gender specific friends. I learn cricket from him and since then I have been trying to impress him both with the ball and the bat, but in vain. He never complements, scolds always, but that has made me push myself harder. Sometimes I feel like he is my elder brother, but when I see that cheeky smile on his face, " Akka! enodu akka! " ( my sister!) I realise that my purse is gonna say good bye to a big bunch.

His face gives away his innermost feelings, how much ever he tries to hide. Behind that tough exterior is a sensitive soul, aiye sounds like some axe effect ad.. But thats true, he has cried his heart out after watching an emotionally charged movie 'sagar' . He says all kinds of things about the Indian cricket team, but then ends up biting his nails... He is what I call, the secret,silent, nail-biting spectator.

You should witness the dressing up ceremony. Bath over. towel rolled. mirror in fsront, full x-ray of the face, applies axe, almost empties the bottle. I fume. Wears jeans, takes shirts out...selects:

Bhai: oi ye theek hai kya?
MT: hmmm..
Bhai: theek se bata na..
MT: haan theek hai..
Bhai: (not convinced)
MT: tujhe kaun dekhne vala hai, kuch bhi pehenke jaana..
Bhai: tu kabhi theek se nahi batati..
MT: to puchta kyun hai?
Bhai: aur kaun batayega?
MT: (smiles) red pehenke jaa, vaise bhi tere paas kuch hai nahi..
Bhai: to leke dena.
MT vanishes...

This is an everyday affair...and will continue for years to come...I might not be able to say it on his face ever, but he is one guy I will do anything for...cos he just bought me chocolate cake from sweet chariot...that reminds me he is an awesome cook...extremely brilliant..he can make a five star dish outta dhabe ka khana and both will tempt your taste buds to ask for more... And he is really funny, you should see him sing and dance..His jokes are wicked and soon you will learn to laugh at yourself and when he laughs at yours, you feel like you have accompolished something...I mean, I feel I have...all the time..He can sing besura and bring the building down and if I do the same he says " sadhana raat ho gayi hai, akal nahi hai kya tere mein?" And I increase my volume....

I love him.

Completely, genuinely,honestly....even though he goes crazy over football,over liverpool, and is mad about red...He will go a long way,I know. He is so unlike me, and that is reason enough. Dismantle anything and give it to him, u will find a new and improved version,be it a broken cd, a comp,or a broken heart. Kids love him..Harish bhaiya chahiye, Harish Bhaiya chahiye...

Thanks for that arm around my shoulder
Thanks for being with me
Thanks for letting me win remote fights, and giving in to my stupidities
Thanks for teaching me cricket and making me fallmadly in love with it
Thanks for telling me I suck instead of flattering me to death
Thanks for everything....
have a wonderful life...i hope things between us dont change when u become a big man ;) u know what that means!

" bhai jao pahle us aadmi ka sign leke aao, jisne hamara ghar kharida tha, uske baad mere bhai, tu kahi bhi sign karne bol, main karungi.."

For all the songs we love and all the laughs we have shared and the tears....I know I irritate u too much, but this is just for you..

Hope u have the patience to read...

Take Care

He loves red...

Chak De India!!

Yes. I watched the movie...finally, after witnessing house full boards all over the city, I got to watch it on this very special day, 15th August 2007. Sixty years is a long time...The tv channels understand it, so does the media.. From CNN-IBN to NDTV, and our very own aaj tak... there were debates, indo-pak one sided superficial discussions...There were special shows, taking us back to the past, 1947 to 2007...our achievements, our contributions, our struggle...

I watched all that and much more. I was one of the millions listening to patriotic songs, repeatedly being played on TV. nothing moved me for quite some time. I surfed and re surfed and surfed again, the buttons on my remote are no more embossed. I was searching for something, I dont know what. In the process, my fingers trembled and went back two channels, some weird awards and a scantily audienced quiz show later, I found it. A sardarji was singing,

ae guzarne vaali hawa bata
Mera itna kaam karegi kya....

and it went on to..

Main vaapas aaoonga
Main vaapas aaoonga

And I realised what I was searching for...I cried... It touched me, the way the guy sang, he could barely sing cos his voice was choking...But it was straight from the heart, genuine, not the annu kapoor type.

I can still hear his voice. Why I brought this up here? Cos I felt like, cos I just wanted to, thats what freedom is all about, isnt it?

Chak de India was an experience in itself, no I am not gonna review the movie, but for me this was Shahrukh Khan's best performance after Swades. He has done a brilliant job. the dialogues are intelligent and delivered superbly, there is subtle humour with immaculate timing...They could have done a better job with the screenplay, but I am no expert. The title track rocks, it makes you wanna dance!! Even though you know the outcome, you will find yourself surprisingly sitting at the edge of your seat, biting those dirty nails off...even if you pretend to predict!

So thats that. But what happened after the movie left me with a few questions. We, that is my friend and I, came out from the theatre, searching for an auto. every auto guy we asked said 150 bucks for 8 kms, I have always detested the incessant right that they seem to possess with no rhyme or reason and more often than not they end up getting a piece of my mind. So, I said "aap apne paas apna auto rakho"..

Next auto, a flag sitting pretty, looking beautiful on top of it, the guy said "ten rupees extra dena madam"
MT: Sirf 7 baje hain. kamsekam jhanda rakhke nainsafi mat karo. sharam aani chhaiye tumko.
Auto: thhek hai baitho madam.
MT: meter se zyada nahi dooongi.
Auto: theek hai na madam, meter laga diya.
MT: baad mein ladayi mat karna.
Auto: aap baithiye na madam..

The three wheeler zooms past the bangalore not-so-trafficky-evening. As I read his name plate that said mahaboob pasha.... The wind sways the flag on my face, I touch it, with pride, as I glance through it and read a hoarding which said "dangerously desirable"....I smile

We get down, and my friend tells the auto guy,
F: bura na mano to ek baat kahu. flag utar do, andhera ho gaya hai.
auto: nods...

The first thought or question or what ever u wanna call it, was why?? why should he put the flag inside? Just because its dark. I asked him. he said, its a rule. there are some special occassions when u can let it sway after dark.

I dont agree. Somehow its not acceptable to me, even if its a rule, or like my other friend said, a flag protocol. The auto guy, Pasha, was celebrating his country's independence day, doesnt he even have the freedom to let the flag sway till whenever he wants it to?

What freedom are we talking abt? Is it only for the armed forces and the politicians, the right to hoist the flag? Is it only on special occassions?

If the announcement of freedom was made at midnight, the flag would have been hoisted then, midnight is not sunshine in full bloom! now this is a special occassion..hmmm

My question is why not? why cant I hoist the flag and keep it till day break? maybe this is how i celebrate my independence day...

I, a civilian and the citizen of this country want to hoist the flag, a flag that is the symbol of my country and its independence, its identity, a flag that came to 'light' after 200 dark years of slavery, of inhumanness, of being the so called white-man's burden...

Do I have it in me?

I would say Chak de India!

Some Random Crap 2

Back to blogging. Back to crapping, and lots more. So much has happened, hard for the mind to comprehend, harder for the heart to ignore. Not in any order, this is obviously random....

I was talking to one of my childhood friends and we were discussing something that both of us severely lack, weight.. He was telling me abt BMI thats body mass index, by the way, and he concluded that I am a stick, like I dint know!

So we have our first woman president, hmmm, some say give her a chance others say, who the hell is pratibha patil, never heard of her! I was one of the latter. Dr. Kalam is someone I respect, admire, adore, there could have been no replacement. He had a foresight, an eye on the future. He sincerely believed in nation building, in the Ramnath Goenka Debate, aired on NDTV and CNN IBN, he said journalists should focus on nation buliding which is equal to A+B+C. A is increase GDP growth, B 60% below poverty line, improve their condition and C restore belief in the value system. Love the man, I still refuse to accept Ms Patil as President. Thats not gonna change anything, anyway!

Watched Phir Milenge and Morning Raaga, yes I hadnt seen either, damn I feel so old, havent watched many movies. Both are brilliantly directed and superbly acted, Shilpa Shetty and Shabana Azmi were outstanding. At one point, Abhishek Bachchan who plays the I-want-to-help-people lawyer, is in a quandry, searching for reasons why he wanted to become a lawyer, he goes on to say that he lost his primary aim earning money, as good and as much as it came. I can relate with that, I shall not elaborate...

I am also watching a whole lot of not-so-real(ity) shows, all of them suck beyond everything. They are simply playing with emotions, they seem to follow a mantra that says 'More tears for more TRP!' If tears dont do the needful, then its definitely war of the judges and brilliant editing that makes the 'sincere and dedicated' viewer sit a mile from the remote. I can write a thesis on this...some other time, maybe. What exactly are we doing for indian idles? The unemployed lot? are we voting sincerely enough or do we plan to lose it all to the Indian Idol?

Sanjay Dutt finally got his sentence, and the world went berserk. Usko ek sentence mili, logo ne to panne bhar diye, an argument says he was in his best conduct and attended court even when he was sandwiched between tight shooting schedules... Isnt he supposed to do it anyway? Six years is a long time, maybe, maybe not. Does he deserve it, I am no one to say that.. Just as I am no one to select my president.

Well, all through all this, just some time back, Sania beat Hingis! Finally did it, I am glad, actually I am mightily happy, and then I was triply happy when we beat England, it always gives me a high to beat english in their own backyard, that too convincingly..Sreesanth's wary aggression caused him an oust from the team, but then he was too wayward and his beamer was just uncalled for.

Will we ever seal the deal? This stupid nuke-deal seems to have taken longer than the '93 bomb blast verdict. screw them...duniya tarakki kar raha hai, hum 1,2,3 pe attak jayenge! thu..The americans are a bunch of idiots, like one of my close friends wrote in one of his very first articles, Indians, simpletons, fools?

ah and friendship day came and went I dint even realise, except for that one phone call from the Big Ben! ;) And a thoughful card from someone who 'me thinks' ;)

On that note, this hardly-working woman, stops the crap flow, pardon the randomness of it all...

Rendezvous with Salman Khan

Just last week, I indulged in something I find extremely boring and a sheer waste of time and money. Shopping! Now, that I am employed, I need to get a nice wardrobe, so says amma...I cant go like just some girl who cares a damn about what she is wearing...Like they are paying me for what I am wearing...

Shopping on commercial street on any street for that matter is more difficult than rocket science. I am dying of hunger, while amma shops for me, suit material...When hunger is coupled with boredom and that too me being the victim, its a pretty sad state of affairs. I begin to show extreme disinterest in all those mannequins, all bald and beautifully dressed.

My eyes spot an american corn seller, I tell ma, I will be back in a while, she has this 'where to' expression on her face and I say "pasikaradu" (meaning, am hungry) she says fine lets go.
Lets go?? I thought I was hungry. Never mind...

So then, we buy corn. She sweeps the cup clean, faster than a tendulkar (ok sad pun on sweep), as I struggle with the spoon which is smaller than a key hole. I sit on the side walk, opposite the Favourite shop (50% off, hurry) amma reads the last word and rushes in...

I make myself comfortable on the side walk, which is already occupied. And then I spot him..
Clad in a pink banian and faded jeans, he sat in style, like he always does...
oh oh jaane jaana playing in my head, I offer him the residue of my corn, he replies in Tamil
"Neengal sapudunga" (you eat)

MT: Tamil epudi teriyum? (how do u know tamil)
SK: Learnt it, worked in several places, I am a fast learner.
MT: Oh cool! So then you must have understood everything I spoke to ma.
SK: Definitely! I dint show it, I am a silent observer, and a good actor.
MT: oh of course.
SK: Where are you from?
MT: I am from Delhi. ( safest bet)
SK: Oh I have been to delhi, Its a beautiful place.
MT: yes yes. ( I was already impressed)
SK: I think you should go now, your mom is already inside.
MT: Thats ok. Anyway she wouldn want someone who doesn offer any help with either the clothes or the cash. what brings you here?
SK: I came with a friend, he is just taking a round, will be here any minute.
MT: Oh cool! I wanna meet him.
SK: Iam not sure if u will like him.
MT: Why not?
SK: Lets see...

Time out... Friend doesnt appear on the scene and I realise its time that I went into the not-so-favourite-shop.

SK suddenly jumps, "Ah there he is"... I have this notion of some tall guy, with long hair, I witness, a man, well over twenty, using his legs for his hands... Begging...

The person I was talking to was in no way ordinary. He had accompolished a lot, his eyes showed a rare determination, a zest and the immediate need to set things right. I was in awe.
Still am.

I asked him out of curiosity: what is your name?

"Salman Khan" he said.
I have never seen a more confident smile.

" Not the actor" he added, as an after-thought.

I smiled. wished him luck. " Thanks Akka"

Took his friend and walked away to an uncertain future.

While I stood there, telling myself, shopping is not such a bad deal after all!

Oh Oh jaane jana......

Some Random Crap

Crap can mean a lot of things. It can mean crap as in literally crap or crap as in anything that one feels is crap-like! Definitely not making sense. But that what this post is about...
Some random crap...

------

2 months in Delhi. UNI in this not-so-beautiful-world. Life felt like it was never like that!
I just wanted it to get over cos what UNI gives you besides tasty subsidised halwa, is a world of disguised unemployment leading to frustration and dehydration due to delhi heat.

-------

Back to bangalore. College beckons. People all seem new and different. Getting back to books, back to student mode, after a stint as an employee of a 'prestigious' organisation was more difficult than I thought. Friends or rather a friend made all the difference. Thanks. had you not been there I would have broken down.

----------

Exams done away with. College over. MT post graduate... Still not all that wiser though. Just another degree old.. Its getting hot in here! ;)
Convocation day, came and went... No invocation song, inspite of hours of practise...The MC forgot!

-------------

People packed their bags. Left for their respective places in search of livelihood. Pardon the exaggeration. The residue is here, waiting...

----------------

Rona dhona over. Painful journey to the station to send off people every second day, over. Paying fine for no platform ticket, arguing with the personnel at the station, over. Roll no 16 expressing his emotions for the first time on platform 1, over. MT crying as Sri Sri kids leave, over. Over and out.

-------------------

Searching for a job. Dropping resumes all over the city. Waiting for interview calls. everything seems like a movie. So surreal but THE reality. Unemployment sucks but giving interviews is so exciting.. I wish I could do that for life!! Running your fingers across classifieds, keyword-journalists wanted (really makes you feel so wanted, atleast by someone ;) )

-------------------------

Mumbai flooded, Sahib singh verma dead, Pratibha Patil for president, Infosys to take over capgemini, Little master on 15,000, Bachchan and Barabanki, Brown britain PM, Rice says NAM is crap...

--------------------------------

Appa still smokes

------------------------------------

No movies watched yet

----------------------------------------

A birthday came and went. I did not wish, deliberately. I still care I always will. No matter what I say. I still care.

---------------------------------------------

No headphones yet. No calls. No mails. No messages.

Just some random crap.............


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Me Thinks Me Weird!

Rules are:
* Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

* People who are tagged need to write posts in their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

* At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

This is something I would have done anyway... But now this becomes important as I had been tagged by none other than someone who won the 'Thinking Blogger Award'...

1. I hate the rain. It depresses me.

2. I dont know how to start a conversation with girls, I feel extremely awkward. Iam more than comfortable with the guys, unfortunately for them.

3. Writing gives me a high..its so intoxicating that I can do it all my life. Iam addicted to it.


4. Iam in love with Amitabh Bachchan and I strongly believe I was related to him romantically ;) in the previous birth.


5. I like pain, physical pain. I think it gives me endurance. It makes me stronger, it tests my limits.


6. I have weird mood swings. I might be extremely happy, enthusiastic, on top of the world and then miserable, angry, upset, depressed, irritated the next minute.


7. I think I have a learning disorder, Iam technologically challenged.


8. I wish I was a guy.



I tag:

Nothin Within

Reema

Cosmos

Richa

Chicane Cruiser

Anand

Mad Angel

cant think of more people...