Ramblings of a disturbed mind

Transform

2012-01-14T01:16:00.000+05:30

Think with your hearts
Feel with your head
The world as we know it
Is ending

End of karmic cycles
Parallel existence
The rules of time
Are bending

Ascension

2012-01-14T00:58:00.000+05:30

It rises it swirls

Entwining

Body, mind and soul

Wholeness in parts

Parts of the whole

I own my power

As I surrender to it

Completion

Within and Without

Dreams, desires, destiny

Mingling to create our reality

Magical manifestations

Dimensions merged

Dna recoding

Accelerated growth

Healing, balancing, merging, loving

Welcome to the light

Rise of the New World

What's in a name

2011-07-14T02:43:00.000+05:30

As he randomly scanned one chat room after another, in search of someone suitable to strike up a conversation with - her name suddenly popped up on the screen: "Mihika_Sanyal joined the room"

His left palm started to itch. It was always a good sign. Unlike other times, where he would have immediately send a PM (personal message) to her, he waited...inhaling, holding his breath for 4 counts and exhaling deeply...just like his therapist had advised. After an agonizing minute, he typed in his text, worried that she might change rooms if he waited any longer. In chat rooms, the user name is no indication of gender, yet he felt confident it was a 'she'.

The pm popped up on her screen. She was about to click on the 'X' mark to close yet another unwanted invitation to 'chat', when the message caught her attention:

dark_knight: There is something about dewdrops which always soothes my soul

This was different. Not like the usual 'Hi. can we chat. a/s/l plz'. Whoever dark_knight was, he was different from the rest and his message had the hint of intelligence. She was sure it was a 'he'. It was one of the most instinctive rules of mating behaviour, whether in cyberspace or in real life. In all probability only a male would respond to a female username. Unless it was a lesbian, which would make it an exception to the rule. Also, the fact that he knew the meaning of her name 'Mihika' was a pleasant surprise. She had begun to take it for granted that most people would not know her name meant 'dewdrops'. His choice of words, style and the reference to the existence of the soul, pointed towards an intelligent, sensitive and probably creative or artistic kind of person.

The user name 'dark_knight' was also intriguing. As a student of psychology, her mind made a random connection. A 'knight' usually brings up the association of a brave warrior rescuing a fair maiden. However, this was a 'dark' knight. So did he believe he could delve into the darkness of the maiden's mind and rescue her soul? God knows her soul needed some rescuing tonight or else she would be prone to slipping into her regular bouts of depression. Rudraksh had stood her up, yet again! And this was the third consecutive time. She was getting tired of his lame excuses and had a feeling that their relationship was on the verge of a break up. He had already broken her heart and the official break up would only be the final straw.

She was desperate for some company. Just someone with whom she could have an intelligent conversation and maybe get Rudraksh off her mind. Anything at all to ease her pain. Tonight she was vulnerable. Dark knight might be the one to rescue her soul. This conversation could get interesting.

As he sat nursing his drink, he waited patiently for her response. She would respond, he was sure about that. He had never been wrong in his assessment before and was a pro by now. The name 'Mihika' was uncommon. If it was her real name, it would have impacted her personality to a certain extent. She might be having a subtle pride about being the possessor of an uncommon name and that may have induced her to use her real name in a chat room where most people are comfortable with pseudo names. She would therefore try to keep up her preference for the 'different' or 'unusual' even if in a subconscious manner.

If her parents had selected the name for her then it reflected their preference for the unusual or uncommon. All individuals are influenced by their parents, whether they realise it or not. His own life was a testimony to this fact. She too would have some of this penchant for the unusual rub off on her, he hoped. And if she had selected the name 'Mihika' as a screen name then it was even easier. She liked to be different and would respond very well to someone who had a different approach from the rest.

The name meant 'dew' or 'mist' and reflected a sensual softness. He believed the resonance of an individual's name influence the character and nature as well. No wonder naming a child was such a big deal across all religions. He laughed as he thought about his pet name. He was affectionately called 'Bhukkha' by his family due to his perpetual hunger as an infant who needed constant suckling at his mother's breast. The name and the hunger had stayed with him. As he waited for her response, he felt the familiar stirrings of that unsatiable hunger, rise from within the darkness of his soul. Yes, he was sure he had selected his sentence with care. She would respond like all the others had.

His screen blinked as he heard the much anticipated 'ping' of a message:

Mihika_Sanyal: And what if the dewdrops need some soul healing for a change?

He smiled. The players were in place. The ritualistic mating dance had begun...

mind games my mind plays with me

2011-04-25T18:52:00.000+05:30

I am totally fascinated...with my mind. I just cant figure out how it works. What I am convinced of is that my brain wiring must have got messed up due to some circuit problem at birth and never got repaired. It keeps getting worse with each passing day. Recent example:

Background:

The scene: 3 of us chatting.
Time: between 3:30 - 4 am.
Food for thought (this means some form of midnight snacks without which I cannot function): Leftover pizza+wine+passive smoking

Flowchart representation of my thoughts with reference to context: (split second processing done by my brain)

Friend planning to settle in Kolkata ----> needs house -----> servant----> fulltimer ----> nepali (since we always had extremely hardworking, trustworthy nepalis working for us as household help) -----> dangerous (perceived notion about nepalis) ----> murder -----> khukri (popular nepali knife) ~~~~~~> (brain signals jumbled) ~~~~> nepali servant hemraj murdered (retrieved information from facts stored in memory chip about aarushi murder case)~~~~~> khukri (what if he was murdered with his own khukri) (dont ask why my brain was connecting these words) ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~> what would be the famous last words of Hemraj before he was killed with his own khukri ~~~> ~~~~> @#$%^&*&%#$# (screening of random images - I m a visual person....weird images ALWAYS accompany my thoughts/words) ~~~~~> IMAGE selected: A bleeding Hemraj on the ground....staring at the killer khukri with an 'et tu brute' expression in his eyes ~~~~~> famous last words selected by my brain and assigned to hemraj.......ready for verbal output "

Final verbal output in response to friend's query about finding nepali household help in Kolkata:

"Hemraj ke jodi ore khukri diye khoon kora hoto his last words would be meri khukri mujhise meaowww"

:-( :-( :-(

Current status: Looking for a suitable exchange offer for my brain.
Product description: Mint condition (hardly used). Slightly dysfunctional (what...its a sales pitch you dont except me to tell the truth about the functional bit do you...shhhhh)

Anybody????

Re-cycled lives?

2011-03-31T21:39:00.000+05:30

I have loved you before
And love you now
I'll come back to love you again
A lifetime of sharing
A short separation
Then once more we'll dance in the rain

If you love me now
Have you loved me before
Let your heart answer your mind
Close your eyes
And now if you can see
You will find our souls entwined

The change is here...

2010-12-07T01:02:00.000+05:30

Like I have always said - there is something special happening in my life during the months of November to February each year. It is always a mixed bag - lows merging with highs. No matter what the experiences are the learning graph keeps going up. The change (usually internal at times external) is usually always for the better. It is the phase to travel, bid farewell to some people who were part of my life and welcome new ones into my circle and strengthen existing bonds like never before.

I feel the change this year too. Something is happening. The loss has already made an appearance. Now I am waiting for the wheel to turn upwards. The winter months won't let me down. I just know it. And when the transition sets in I will be ready to head towards a new direction... yet again.

I am waiting at the threshold with open arms, ready to embrace whatever it is that life brings to me.

Just another happy day

2010-11-17T03:55:00.000+05:30

Kolkata. Nostalgia.Trams. All these go hand in hand. If you have nothing better to do then simply hop on to a tram going anywhere. The destination is not important. You anyways didnt have anything to do in the first place, remember? Take a window seat. And when the conductor pulls the string and the bells go 'ting ting' -let your journey begin.

Now, time is of crucial importance if you have chosen to travel by this particular mode of transportation. You must have enough time on your hands. If you are in a hurry to reach somewhere, trams are not a good idea. You could reach there faster by walking. Also a virtue which will be immensely useful on this journey is patience! The tram could unexpectedly come to a halt due to a variety of reasons - a cow choosing the particular tram line to rest for a while and get philosophical about life or even a power cut at the place supplying the electricity for the tram.

To make your travel a little more comfortable, you may opt for the first class compartment. The ticket, I believe, costs one rupee more than that for the other compartment. However, you will be able to enjoy the luxury of huge fans overhead if you invest that additional rupee. Now just sit back and enjoy the ride.

I have always enjoyed observing people and creating stories in my head about their lives. A tram ride is one of the best ways to observe a sea of humanity. You will meet the harried office goer, who will lunge for an empty seat like his life depended on it. If you choose to eavesdrop then the conversation he carries on with his colleague will probably be about politics, football or if he is especially disgruntled then about his boss. It may be advisable to take a seat as far away from this gentleman as possible because there would be high probability of him suffering from a chronic case of body odour. It is actually not his fault. Blame it on the high humidity which is a part and parcel of Kolkata climate and his complete lack of awareness about the existence of deodourants.

Another interesting character would be the chatterbox lady in a gaudy synthetic saree, distributing free gyan to her companion. The words of wisdom could be about ways to deal with a scheming mother-in-law, heavy discounts being offered on 'poran jaye joliya' sarees, high price of vegetables or even the last episode of some saas bahu serial on Star Jalsa or Etv Bangla.

One interesting observation I made was that the crowd in trams seems to be infinitely more civilised than that traveling by public buses. It could, of course, be a figment of my imagination,since I have not travelled by bus in over ten years now. However, most men seemed to be 'bhodroloks' who didnt indulge in popular activities like pushing and shoving and of course blatantly staring at interesting anatomy of their female co-passengers.

The tram conductor seemed to be a rare specimen left behind from pre-historic age. He was middle aged, dressed in a 'clean' uniform, wore spectacles, looked extremely decent and was POLITE and HELPFUL. What a combination! Now, the speed of the tram (or the lack of it actually), probably makes it a transport of choice for the elderly. An old man who was almost blind and had an incoherent speech got up at a particular stop. He could not explain the right destination and as a result missed his stop. The conductor and another gentleman did their best to decipher the place he wanted to go to and realising he had missed getting off at the right stop, helped him get off and took pains to give him proper directions. The tram meanwhile was halted for some extra minutes while this discussion was taking place. And not a single person protested about this delay. One of those things which makes me so proud about being a bangali in kolkata :-)

Next was the candy man. Old man with a jhola filled with a variety of desi candies of all flavours and colours - lemon, tamarind, orange, mango and even pineapple. Old age and candy - two of my major weaknesses. What could I do except buy a bunch of those sweet things from that sweet old man? The way those colourful lozenges filled my cupped palms transported me back to my childhood for a moment. It is just one of those split second feeling which I call my 'aha' moments.

Something about traveling without a destination and with plenty time to observe life around you makes you a little more open as a person. So when I finally got off the tram, I would like to believe that I was a little less introvert than I usually am. Proof? If you know me then you would know I can never ever start off a conversation with a total stranger. But right after we (hubby and me) stepped off the tram and were crossing the road, he ran into a sergeant (police) on duty, who he knew through a common friend. Bikes were the topic of discussion. Strangely, I joined in the conversation - discussing Royal Enfields and Yezdis from a 'bored to death because of bikes' wife's point of view. So there we were, a strange sight for many, a couple happily chatting with a formidable looking policeman on a very busy road of Kolkata.

My spurt of sudden extrovertism didnt end just with that encounter. Next we took an auto. A 'shared' auto - yet another mode of transport which I had completely forgotten about. In Kolkata when you are travelling by auto, be prepared to share the space with strangers. The auto driver usually takes on atleast 5 passengers at a time. Three at the back and two sitting or rather hanging out beside the driver! So there we were travelling with total strangers moving towards a common destination. I sat next to a lady with a child of about 8 years of age, on her lap. The kid threw out a piece of paper on the road and guess what - the mother actually scolded her. She then went on to tell her daughter about civic sense and responsibility about keeping the city clean. I was so impressed that I did it again! Started talking to a stranger. Congratulated her about instilling the right values and discussed about the lack of civic sense in most people, dirty metro stations, blah blah blah, till she got off at her stop and happily waved goodbye. My husband meanwhile was staring at me open mouthed! His expression said 'wtf %%&&^&^*&^'

My adventure ended with yet another auto ride home. On the way I stopped to chat with the flower seller :-) and bought all time favourite rajnigandhas (though they always remind me of funerals or solemn prayer meetings). Overall a great day filled with a stroll down College Street and peeking into every possible book stall, stop over at Paramount Sharbat (in existence since 1918, this place sells only sharbats. Must try - dab sharbat - sweet coconut water with loads of ice and a generous helping of soft coconut pulp/kernel) and gorging on yummy chicken sandwiches and mutton cutlets at the famous Coffee House (never ever try coffee at this place and it hasnt allowed the cola giants to enter its sanctuary so water is the only safe bet).

Shhh...dont tell it to anybody but I think I might be falling in love with Kolkata once again!

R.I.P

2010-10-27T02:13:00.000+05:30

Death is a strange fact of life. Like everything else, it is momentary yet permanent at the same time. I have always been fascinated by the memories which push up to the surface of one's mind whenever there is an encounter with death. It is especially strange if it's the death of someone close to us. We may remember the most trivial incidents, seemingly inconsequential to our relationship with the person who died. It seems that just by dying that person made those moments special.

My English teacher, who taught me in school, died yesterday. Mrs. Mukherjee. She was not that old so it was natural for many of us to be shocked by this news till we heard she had been battling cancer. She lost the fight. Yes, I was sad when I heard the news and almost decided to attend her prayer service being held in St.James' church today. Then some long forgotten incidents suddenly came to mind.

Mrs. Mukherjee seemed to tower over us, both due to her height and personality. She constantly chewed paan and as a result had prominent bright red teeth - providing enough material for creative visualisation of imaginative students. One day after receiving a scolding for talking non stop in class (what else did you expect from me?), my friends and I drew a symbolic representation of her on the classroom wall. The face on the wall was of a errr...hmmm...devil with horns and two teeth sticking out from the corner of the mouth. We ensured that the drawing was barely big enough to be visible to us sitting on chairs right next to the wall. Each day before her class, one of us would add a little length to those teeth. It was our private joke ... or so we thought...until one day she asked us 'why does that devil on the wall have perpetually growing teeth?' We realised that besides large red teeth she also had exceptionally good eyesight and a sense of humour beneath that stern exterior. Needless to say, the teeth stopped extending from that day onwards.
I was never interested in memorising stuff. I figured if I loved something enough I would remember it and if I didnt it was not worth remembering anyways. I realise this philosophy is not helpful in case of subjects like history or geography and in case of Mrs. Mukherjee, in answering refernce to context questions. I had seen classmates write flowery essays in english, bengali and hindi with a fair sprinkling of quotes from famous authors/poets. It reflected their immense knowledge. I reflected my ignorance by making up my own quotes instead. Anything suitable to context was put within quotes with a tag saying 'as a great poet/author has said'. I took care never to mention which great poet or author had said those famous lines and hoped my teachers would never discover that the great poet was me. It worked fine till I had to answer questions set by Mrs.Mukherjee with reference to Shakespearean plays which we had to study. One day she read out my answers to the entire class while I stood there praying for the bell to ring. That was the day she officially renamed me 'Ranjini William Shakespeare'. I was embarrassed but I also realised that she had seen the humour even in this circumstance and in her way had appreciated the creativity even if I did mess up my answers. Yes, she made fun of me in front of the entire class but there was nothing derogatory or insulting about the way she did it. I could laugh with her and my classmates even if the joke was on me.
Mrs.Mukherjee forced me to enter the elocution contest. She even found the perfect poem which I would recite and then coached me for the contest. The poem was 'Cinderella' by Roald Dahl. She was so thrilled with her coaching and my recital that she kept making me repeat the poem for her whenever I bumped into her anywhere in school besides our regular practice sessions. I remember reciting in classrooms, library, playgrounds and assembly hall. And then it got worse. She started to get hold of other teachers and made me recite for them as well while she stood there grinning proudly at me. After a while my mom found me reciting 'Cinderella' even in my sleep. It was then that I decided to put a stop to it. I was convinced I would puke if I was asked to recite 'Cinderella' one more time. Mustering enough courage I finally told her I didnt want to participate in the elocution contest due to 'stage fright'. She was surprised since I had always been an active participant in all cultural programmes. However I was determined. She was disappointed and had to find a very quick replacement to represent our class. I am just happy she never found out the real reason for me backing out.

Now suddenly she is no more. The memory of these incidents are all that remains in my mind. Everyone else whose lives she had touched will remember her in many different ways. I want to remember her as someone who made a difference to my school life - adding a little learning, a little fun and loads of colour to my existence as a child. I did not attend her memorial service today. I did not want her memory tampered with the sadness of her death. R.I.P maam, wherever you may be!

Crossroads

2010-08-31T16:21:00.000+05:30

His cheeks felt warm. Maybe he was standing too close to the fire. The heat wrapped a comforting blanket around him on this chilly December night. It was just like her. Radiating a sense of warmth and comfort even under trying circumstances. He should have felt at peace. Her presence always had this effect on him. But not tonight. Tonight he was cold. It seemed like the chill of the night had seeped into his very being, claiming his soul and leaving an empty space where his heart used to be. He knew he would now have to carry the burden of this emptiness for the rest of his life after this night.

He watched as the others started to leave. The fire had settled comfortably into a steady rhythm and burned with a sizzle. He sat down next to her, in companionable silence. He always treasured these moments with her, when they could sit side by side and not say a word. Out of habit, he reached out for her hand, anticipating the comfort of interlocking fingers. Tonight, she didnt respond. His fingers gripped cold air and startled, he quickly withdrew his hand.

He had prided himself on being a no-nonsense, no-emotion kind of man. A man of few words, he believed his actions were sufficient to convey his minimal emotions whenever required. And she had understood. He remembered her eyes widen in surprise when he had once confessed how much he needed her in his life. The look on her face had been worth letting down his guard, even if for a few moments. He now wished he had done it more often.

Memories are dangerous. Simultaneously created with every moment that you are alive, they hide in the dark recesses of your mind. And rise to the surface when you are least expecting them, taking you by surprise and often leaving behind intense pain in its wake. She was doing that to him now. Coming alive in his mind as a laughter, a pout, a glance or a kiss. He shook his head in an effort to clear the images but she just wouldnt let him be. The wind joined in, laughing at his misery, as it ran through the trees.

The fire was starting to die. It would be morning soon. He knew he should leave but he was not ready to let go of her, not just yet. He was so lost in his thoughts that he had failed to see the two men sitting in the shadows, their backs turned to him. Perhaps they were respecting the privacy of his moments with her. So he was surprised when a dirty hand offered him a cup of steaming hot tea. He looked up to see a dark man in a tattered shawl and dhoti, extending the earthern cup to him. He was shocked to note the lack of warm clothing on this man. Noting his questioning look, the man nodded towards the area surrounding them and quietly said, 'these fires keep us warm.' Handing him the cup, the man walked back into the shadows.

Holding the hot cup in his hands he realised he had not smoked ever since he had come here. The aroma of tea had triggered the latent nicotine urge and he reached into his pocket for his pack. He welcomed this opportunity to share a smoke with her, smiling at the memory of how they planned to quit smoking each time they lit up a cigarette. The fire was now just a warm glow but enough to light up the last stick he would share with her.

The sky was waking up as the still hidden winter sun coloured it with a misty hue. He rose and dusted his trousers and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He then did something which was so unlike him and so much like her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his clean, neatly folded white kerchief and spread it open on his palm. He bend down and with his free hand, scooped up a fistful of ash. Gently, he placed that ash on the cloth and tied it into a tiny bundle and kept it in his pocket. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he turned and began the long walk to his car, parked just outside the iron gates. He did not glance back as he quickened his steps, not wanting to see what he was leaving behind. An empty earthern cup, a cigarette butt and her funeral pyre, now razed to the ground...

...

2010-08-30T22:53:00.000+05:30

It begins
Unexpected, unplanned
Catching you
Unawares
Creeping in
From the shadows
And taking control
Of your senses
Embedding itself
Into your very being
Consuming you
Till everything else
Ceases to exist
And only IT remains
This mad, passionate obsession
Desire
At its peak
Just before it melts
Into release

I love the rains

2010-08-19T20:07:00.000+05:30

A lazy lazy day
A rainy hazy day
Listening to this song
And singing along

Deftones - Simple Man

I am lovin it :-)

It always comes back

2010-08-19T18:11:00.000+05:30

Found and lost
Lost and found
Whatever you send out
It comes around

A lost slipper
Went out to the sea
Years later
Another came back to me

Promises broken
Love faked from the start
Years later
A broken heart

Being there for a friend
A smile earned
Years later
The favour returned

A friendly hug
A warm smile
Amidst the rush
If you pause a while

Someone out there
Maybe needing you now
Years later
It will come back and how

Soul recognition

2010-08-19T02:51:00.000+05:30

Eyes met across the room and time came to a standstill. Everything else became a blur. The music, the people and even the ballroom faded into oblivion. In that moment, it was just him and her.

He cut through the crowd and moved towards her. He felt an urgency which he could not understand. It was a need to reach her before she got lost again.

She stood rooted to the spot watching him make his way towards her. She hardly heard her name being called. It was only when her husband lightly took her hand that the ballroom came back to life. She turned to greet the couple being introduced to her by her husband.

He saw her turn to smile at the man who now had his hand possessively placed around her waist. He abruptly turned around and walked back.

She scanned the room once again and caught a glimpse of him walking out of the door, a beautiful woman by his side.

Two strangers, a chance meeting and a moment frozen forever in time.

This doesnt make sense so dont read it

2010-08-17T19:40:00.000+05:30

Decay had crept in

Unobserved, uninvited

And strengthened its hold

On two unsuspecting victims

Something once beautiful

Had turned ugly with age

Something once strong

Failed the test of time

Perhaps it was wrong to begin with

And so people had said

Just an escape route

From hell

Now it was too late

The choices had been made

And destiny had claimed her victims

Two souls entwined in karmic bonds

If only they could have seen

What lay ahead

When they began their journey

Would they have chosen differently

Or would they have still taken a chance

Treading more carefully perhaps

Participants in an unfair duel

With destiny as their nemesis

Each choice we make

Has a lesson in it

And often the hardest lessons

Are the ones we remember

Long after the class is over

Each lifetime is such a classroom

So learn your lessons well

I dont feel like giving a title to this post

2010-08-09T01:08:00.035+05:30

It was a beautiful, crispy morning and I woke up smiling at another new day!.....Okay I am lying. It was hot and humid and I woke up cranky. And it was not due to the fact that I had had less than two hours of sleep. I always wake up cranky. If its morning and if I have to wake up = I am cranky!!! And its not a new phenomenon. I have been like this since birth. In fact I was supposed to be born on a bright early morning in June (some year in the stone age). I refused. The aged doctor waited patiently, the fat ugly nurse waited patiently, the sweeper who was supposed to sweep the floor clean right after this eventful delivery waited patiently, my dad waited..err...nervously and my mom waited...ahem...not so patiently. But I refused to make a grand entry into this world because it was still MORNINGGGG.

I waited patiently, twiddling my tiny thumbs inside my mommy's tummy...waiting for the auspicious moment. And then at sharp 12 noon, when the cuckoo clock on the delivery room's wall sang coo coo coo coo coo coo coo coo ...choli ke pichey kya hai....choli ke pichey. Okay I am lying again. This melodious and meaningful devotional song was not invented till much later. But you should have guessed I am not being entirely truthful when I said cuckoo clock on the wall...I mean which delivery room has a cuckoo clock hanging on the wall...duh??? Don't you remember looking up at the clock to check your exact time of birth, hanging upside down being held by that hairy doctor who gave that resounding thwackkk on your baby bottom when you were born? Do you remember seeing any cuckoo clock on that wall? What's wrong with your memory? So the gist of this post is that there are no cuckoo clocks on hospital walls...delivery rooms or otherwise. No...something doesnt read right here...hmm...is this what I was talking about when I started this post?

Nooo I was talking about how I hate waking up on early mornings. When the sun goes up I want to go down on my bed, curl up and sleep. Dad, do we have Count Dracula hanging somewhere on a branch in our family tree? Anyways, so I hate mornings and I woke up at 6:30 am this morning, feeling as fresh as a daisy that has been lying on the grave of Mr. D'Souza for the last thirty years having been placed there by his only surviving relative ...his wife...who died of a stroke right after placing this daisy on his grave. By a strange quirk of fate the cemetary closed down on the same day and has never been cleaned since that fateful day and no wind nor water has managed to remove that daisy lying on that particular grave since that day. Ohhhh spooky! Yup thats how fresh -as -that -daisy I felt when I woke up this morning.

Okay so far so good. Here I am ...not so awake...groggy...irritable and anyone who knows me would see a neon sign flashing over my head which would read "Stay Away...She Bites". Even my dogs stay away from me at this particular part of the day after I bit one of them when he playfully assumed I would be interested in playing tug of war right after waking up in the morning. Cheee that dreadful word again. Okay okay I know how to be concise. I woke up in the morning today. There...happy?

So I woke up and after lots of growling, tantrums, threats and coaxing, finally I was tempted to crawl out of bed when I was promised kachauri and jalebi for breakfast. What all a woman has to do papi pete ke liye...sigh! Cut to scene two...me all dressed up formally in purple t-shirt and deep blue jeans and favourite blue slippers with red, white and blue striped bag slung over my shoulders, red nail paint, purple headband with white polka dots and sunshades. No I am not going out to play colourman colourman with my six year old nephew. I am just colourblind. And my parents hid this secret from me till I had made it a regular habit of going out wearing pinks with oranges and purples with yellows and maroons with whatever. Only when Govinda (the famous actor...remember.... he taught the nation the hindi alphabets in a very user friendly manner while sliding up his lungi or pyajamas or whatever....singing aa eeeee uu oooo...and karishma aunty helped him in this educational campaign) became a style icon for the youth of India, was I told by my parents and polite friends that I had been unwittingly wearing 'his' kind of colour combinations all these years. Life sucks! Okay so where was I? Just a minute...are you still reading this? Whyyyyy? You really dont have anything better to do? What..you dont? Okay then stay with me and find out what I did with the rest of my day. It's a long long story. So far I have tried to be direct and to the point and concise but bear with me if I tend to get a little carried away from now on....it was such an interesting day after all.

So I walked out of the door thinking about those jalebis and humming a tune to myself. By the way, my friends have noted that I always 'hum'. If I am sad or happy or worried or depressed or scared or nervous or ecstatic or in any state of mind....my way to deal with it is to 'hum'...off tune ofcourse. Besides being colour blind I am also tone deaf. Some of my close buddies from work had lovingly named me the 'psychotic hummer' because they said my 'humming quietly while sitting at my desk pretending to work' scared them as it gave a feel like I was enacting a scene straight out of the hitchcock movie 'psycho'...(visualise scene: psychotic serial killer posing as a copywriter at an ad agency, sits quietly at her desk. She hums to herself while cutting out and pasting the snaps of her next vicims on her murder list. Topping the list is her creative director who stole numerous ideas off her during brainstorming sessions. A close second is her art director who argued he would not reduce the size of the stupid font on the layout and dared to suggest that she should change her earth shattering award winning headline instead!) So, friends, romans, countrymen and also women...if you ever have the misfortune of meeting me personally and then if you ever hear me humming during any part of our intellectually stimulating conversation .... run, dont walk, towards the nearest exit point. Just a friendly warning! And if you dont read this post till the very end now that you have come so far, you just might instigate me to start humming and cutting out your snaps (which I shall somehow locate in this cyberworld) and pasting it on my list. So where was I?

Okay, so I leave home in search of jalebis and hubby drives me to six bloody sweet shops who have just raised the shutter and are not selling jalebis! Did I mention life sucks? But not always because the seventh shop has ja-le-bees!!! We discover jalebis and I yell 'Bhatindaaaa". What? Did you expect a 'eureka'? Nooo that has been the copyrighted 'yell' word of Eureka Forbes for years ever since they created their company's first vaccum cleaner which sucked! Aw c'mon I am not criticising their product...a vaccum cleaner which sucks is doing its job well, right? Anyways, jalebis discovered, bought, alongwith other health food items like samosas and thumsup and off we go to our actual destination...my aunt's place.

Now if you are wondering why I went through all this trouble to drop in at my aunt's place so early in the morning...you are normal...you should be wondering. Well the details are as follows:

1. My aunt is a designer

2. Sarees are her forte

3. She needs to make a catalogue of her designs and also needs to listen to and follow common sense suggestions like publicising her work through websites, magazines, blah blah blah

4. So far she has done nothing except exhibitions and word of mouth publicity. Hell, we are related you know and in some cases she is as lazy and laid back as me. Blood ties I tell you!

5. Newsflash: She finally agreed to get a photo shoot done

Today was Day One of this fashion photo shoot. And me, with my Govinda inspired dressing sense, colourblindness and all, was helping her out with creative suggestions. Do you need help climbing back onto the chair? I noticed you fell off laughing. You are not very polite are you? But I am, so I will help you climb back on that chair and then I will firmly tie you in place for your own safety. So, where was I?

Yes, there we were at my aunt's place. Sarees here and sarees there sarees sarees everywhere! What, you have heard this rhyming line somewhere before? Well, how innovative do you expect me to be at 4 am in the morning? Just wait till I get an opportunity to shake you awake when you are snoring at 4 am someday. I will ask you...chal ab original poem likhkey batah....Thennnn you will understand. Hey, its 4 already? You mean its gonna be daylight soon? Oh no...my pet vampire bats (Dad, did you locate that family tie to the Count or not?) are already getting anxious searching for dark corners to hide and Pedro my pet owl is impatiently staring at his watch wondering when he can retire for the day. So I will have to be even more concise and end this post soon. Time is running out...tick tock tick tock tick tock....tak tak tuk tak tuk tuk...(sorry, it got bored running out in the same style since it was born and decided to run out to a different rhythm today). So, where was I?

Oh ya I need to end this post now...I am starting to feel sleepy and hungry. So will just give you the bullet points about the rest of the day:

The shoot went exceptionally well even though the daylight was already starting to fade out when we bums realised we should get some nice outdoor shots. What? You were expecting bullet points to be in bullets? Life sucks you know. Okay so the shoot was superb. The sarees were simply beautiful. Breakfast was good. The lunch was even better....authentic bengali preparation of finger lickin good mutton curry and rice. I also noticed there were some other UFOs on the table which I didnt try (for the dimwitted: UFO = Unidentified Fried Object. Dont even think about trying this category of food at my aunt's place...she thinks of innovative ways to feed dangerous stuff like karela to my cousin and me).

Some crucial life changing lessons which I learnt and observed at the fashion shoot today and will remember for the rest of my life till tomorrow:

1. My aunt is a very very talented designer in spite of being my aunt

2. My hubby does know a thing or two about fashion photography as well. Nah, he's pretty good in spite of being my husband

3. My sister (cousin) is really good looking (she modelled for the shoot ...willingly)

4. My brother (cousin) is really good looking (he modelled for the shoot....hmm.... not so willingly. Damn where did I keep that gun I was holding against his head?)

5. My brother's girlfriend is really good looking (she modelled for the shoot...willingly)

6. My aunt is really good looking (she did not model for the shoot)

7.I belong to a family of good looking people who could have chosen modelling as a profession. Damnit damnit damnit...life sucks! I need to lose atleast 51 kgs to appear to be remotely related to these goodlooking aliens which I call family. I am depressed. I will go eat that last slice of plum cake right after I sign off from this blog.

8. I can plan out an alternative career as a highly paid creative consultant for glamorous fashion shoots. Or alternatively I could be the 'spot boy' for a production unit conducting such a shoot. I can fetch water you know.

All in all, a highly productive and creatively satisfying fun day. Will post some pirated pics from the shoot in my next post, if I can learn how to remove watermarks from copyright wala images. And then I will tell you all about...oh nooooooo....did I just hear caw caw caw...the crowssssss...subah ho gayi mamu.....nahinnnnnnnnn.......

Men just don't get it do they?

2010-07-16T22:17:00.003+05:30

She: How do you like this one?

He: It's nice

She: Just 'nice'?

He: No actually it's really good

She: Then why did you say 'nice'?

He: I meant it as 'good'

She: So you don't mean what you say and don't say what you mean

He: I do. I just...this is really good

She: Do you love me?

He: What?

She: Do you love me?

He: Of course

She: How do I know you mean it?

He: Because I am saying it

She: But you said 'nice' when you meant 'good'

He: I was just confused. I am sorry. But I meant it was 'good'

She: Really? Do you think it suits me?

He: Yes. Take it.

She: But I want something in pink

He: This is pink

She: This is peach

He: Peach is not a fruit anymore?

She: (Rolling her eyes!) Do you like this or not?

He: Yes I do. Take it

She: You are just saying that coz you are tired

He: No I am not, this is really nice

She: Really? But the length's not right

He: Then don't take it

She: See I told you - you actually did not like it

He: But I did!

She: Even if it's not the right length? You don't care about how I look

He: Baby, you look good in everything.

She: You are just saying it because you don't want to help me choose

He: I mean it. Ok try something else

She: But this one's so pretty

He: Ok. Take it and adjust the length

She: Why should I buy something if I have to adjust it?

He: Then try something else in pink

She: Ok. How do you like this?

He: Bu..bu..but this is yellow!

She: I love yellow. I'll take this!

My kind of life

2010-06-03T21:17:00.006+05:30

It's 3 am in the morn
Impatiently he blares the horn
We rush to the car, my friends and me
Off on an unplanned trip to Jaipur.....yippeee
All of us wearing worn out nightsuits
If you think we are crazy...we care two hoots!!!

She watches it crawl across the floor
Right in between the bed and the door
She racks her brain and an idea pops
When it comes to innovation, at nothing she stops
Creepy crawly lizards simply give her the chills
So, to tempt it into slumber, my aunt feeds it homoepathy pills!!!

It's 1 o'clock at night
We are at a petrol pump to fill petrol and grab a bite
My friend points at trucks travelling to some unknown destination
And for some weird reason the vehicles become object of fascination
We follow them for hours into the dead of the night
And soon enough Rishikesh is in sight!!!

We are headed to a friend's brother's wedding and we'll also visit the Taj
Resplendent in sarees and suits - ahead we charge
The traffic on the highway takes its toll
We are in a celebration mode and life is on a roll
The car's turned around and we head back to the city
End up in South Delhi, eating crabs - a pair of dressed up dudes and damsels pretty

Three of us in a balcony stand
The silent night with shiny stars looks grand
We contemplate on virtues of silence and attraction of sound
Suddenly with a crazy gleam in her eyes she turns around
We rush to implement an idea to merge silence with sound
Dropped from the 5th floor, the crashhhhh is exhilarating, as the crystal glass touches ground!!!

He practices his guitar on the terrace, all night long
She teaches salsa steps on the road as we sing along
In a traffic jam he gets off the car and dances on the road
She talks to Ghatotkach the mouse when she's simply bored
She's an expert at signature fraud
At her GM's insistence she copied his mother's too - dear god!!!

He's out of town, the car's parked at home
The night beckons us - come out and roam
A desperate ice cream urge takes over and we head off to India Gate
It's as good as driving a stolen car, it just feels great
We're back soon enough and promise not to utter a word
If he should ask we'll just pretend - what? took your car for a drive - that's absurd!!!

Do you know me a little better now that you see some glimpses unfurled
These incidents and these people make my world
All of them unique in their mad mad way
Oh Lord let them always be the same I pray
A bunch of like minded people, all family and friends
Life is one big adventure that never ends!!!

Living in the present

2010-05-31T01:52:00.007+05:30

Our life is made up of moments. Happy, sad, crazy, fun, angry,unexpected,predictable - moments. Yet often we choose to ignore the 'now' thinking we will always have the chance to come back to it later if we want. We prioritize our lives, consciously or subconsciously. We go by what is 'right' as per the expectations of others or demands of daily life and curb our impulses. Some of us live to regret it, while the lucky ones can adapt and live with not having done what they would have ideally loved to do. I live with my personal demons too:

My grandma was my anchor and in some ways, I was hers. I stayed in Delhi and she was in Kolkata. Our lives were entwined and connected through the mobile phone throughout the year except for my occasional visits to the city when I could be with her for a few days. She began to lose her power of hearing and her memory with age. Gradually our phone conversations sounded like this....

Dida (grandma): Kemon achish? (How are you?)

Me: Bhalo. Tumi kemon acho? (I am good. How are you?)

Dida: Kemon achishhhh? (How areeee you?)

Me: Bhalo achiiiiiiii. (I am goooood)

Dida: Shorir bhalo nei? (Are you not keeping well?) - As she could not properly hear my response, she got worried easily and assumed I might not be well. It would take few more minutes of convincing till she moved to the next question.

Dida: Kobey ashbi? (When will you come?)

Me: December e

Dida: Ashbi na? (You will not come?)

Me: Ashbo Didaaa....December mashey (I will come in December)

Dida: Kotodin dekhini...aye na ekbar (It's been so long since I have seen you, please come once)

Me: Ashbo toh sheeth kaaley (I will come in the winters)

Dida: Ekhon sheeth kothaye? (It's not cold now) - She might have just grasped one word in the conversation and made her assumptions.

Dida:Phone korish na keno amakey? (Why don't you call me?)

Me: Kalkei kotha holo toh Dida (We just spoke yesterday) - Due to her failing memory she would forget having spoken to me just a day or two earlier and would be sad about lack of communication from my side.

Dida: Phone korish na keno? Kobey ashbi? - And the entire conversation would start all over again.

My voice would rise with every sentence in an effort to make her hear better and at times my patience dipped. Also, since such conversations would usually take anything between 15 minutes to half an hour - I gradually started spacing my calls from everyday to once in 2-3 days. I would also ensure that I call her when I was in a relaxed mood and had plenty of time in hand. On days that were stressful or hectic - the calls were 'postponed'. At times these calls became source of amusement to the listeners around us and at times their patience was also tested. My scheduled visit to Kolkata also kept getting 'postponed' due to other factors which gained priority. It is not as if I did not want to meet her and spend some quality time with her - but it was just that other 'important' things kept coming in the way.

Finally I visited Kolkata. Met up with her almost everyday of my stay but could not manage to stay with her even for a few days since I was in the city for only two weeks and there was so much to do and so many people to meet. I returned to Delhi - happy that I had finally met her and spend some quality time with her. As soon as I was back the phone calls resumed:

Dida: Kobey ashbi? (When will you come?)

Me:Ashbo (I will come)

In that year, her health, memory and hearing deteriorated at an alarming rate. Soon she could not remember or recognise family members and had almost lost her sense of hearing. The phone calls ceased to matter to her. She was now living in the past where she did not need a phone to connect me to her - I was already firmly rooted in her past so she had me with her in her mind. I still called but she usually did not hear nor remember a word. I was relieved of my duty to make regular calls. I kept taking 'updates' about her from my mashi (aunty) who had been her primary caregiver. I desperately made plans to visit Kolkata once again to see her soon. This was last year. In december 2009 - my dida died. I relocated to Kolkata in February 2010. I was two months too late.

I have no clue why I am sharing this very personal experience in a very public forum except maybe because writing is the strongest form of catharsis for me and also perhaps to make an appeal:

If there is a friend whom you have not spoken to in a while and have been meaning to call - pick up the phone. Do it now.

If you have been meaning to take up a hobby but just have not found the time yet - Do it now.

If you have been meaning to say something to someone but the time just did not feel right - Do it now.

If you feel like chasing your dreams and turning your passion into profession but are not sure if it would be the right thing to do - atleast give it a try. Do it now.

Living life without regrets is the only way to live it. Maybe the behaviour or action will be considered impulsive or even wrong by everyone else but if it brings you happiness without hurting anybody - do it now. Following your heart every moment of your life is perhaps the biggest gift you can give to yourself. Maybe the logical thinkers will want to crucify me for even suggesting such a thing - they are entitled to their views - just like I am entitled to mine.

*As I see the rain pouring down and feel the cool breeze soothing my parched soul, I feel this strong urge to step out and take a walk in the rain. Everybody else around me is huddling under shelters - protecting themselves against this downpour. My mind shouts - you know you have a perpetual throat problem and getting drenched is not a good idea - I repeat 'Not' a good idea. My heart smiles and softly whispers - go ahead - Do it now. I ended up in bed - sore throat, severe cough, runny nose, constant headache, throat infection induced fever. Was the momentary insanity worth all this? U bet!!!! :-)

Whatever...

2010-05-04T21:50:00.004+05:30

Felt a strong urge to write something. So here it is:

SOMETHING

Forgiveness

2010-05-03T20:54:00.016+05:30

She died that night. When she was just 8 years old. Now, 20 years later, her killer was at her mercy. A hopeless invalid, he was dependent on her for his very existence.

As she spoonfed him every morsel or wiped his mouth after every bite, she was careful to avoid any physical contact as far as possible. She specially avoided his eyes and his hands. The eyes which used to seek her out from every hiding place. The hands which then pulled her on his lap and then onto his bed to do unspeakable things. Oh yes, the hands which strangled her innocence to death on the night she turned eight.

She wondered what was wrong with her. Why was she helping this man live, when she had prayed for his death every single day in the last two decades? He had destroyed every emotion in her - love, trust, respect and left her only with hatred. She felt hatred with an intensity that was overwhelming and destroyed everything in its path. Over the years this hatred had become her only reason for survival. She had planned vengeance and was ready to extract her pound of flesh as soon as fate bestowed her a fair chance. Now she had that chance. Then why couldnt she bring herself to destroy her tormentor and satisfy her hatred once and for all? She then realised that perhaps he had won again. Just seeing him lie totally helpless on that bed had snatched even the hatred from her. He now left her with nothing.

As she turned to put away the glass of water from which he had just sipped a few drops, she heard a hoarse whisper. Startled she turned around. It was the first time he had spoken to her since she had returned to look after him. She strained to hear the words coming out of his twisted, saliva dripping mouth. She bent closer and closer.....and then she heard them...the words she had waited to hear for all these years. He was finally saying, 'I am sorry'

It all came back with a rush. Every emotion, long dead, surged through her heart. Pain, rage, grief, hatred and even a fleeting sensation of deep love which she had once felt for this man, filled her being. A deep sense of calm descended on her as she slowly came back to life. She brought her mouth close to his ear and uttered the words which finally destroyed him. She softly whispered, "I forgive you, Dad"

Trust

2010-05-02T16:58:00.022+05:30

She lay there on the cot....happily gurgling. A tiny bundle. Arms stretched out towards the sky as if wanting to pull the entire world in her warm embrace. It was only a few days since she had set her eyes upon her surroundings and was already in love with life.

Her two elder siblings lay on the naked floor, holding on desperately to the last remnants of sleep, before the day's struggle for livelihood began. Baba was already at work. He could not afford the leisure of staying in bed after sunrise, considering the number of mouths he had to feed. She was the latest addition.

In the background, she could hear the comforting sound of her mother's voice talking to her Dadi. But wait...Ma didnt sound her usual self. This was not the voice Ma used when she was singing her a lullaby or crooning while she suckled at her breast. This was different. Ma sounded really upset. She could feel the tears in her mother's voice and that turned her little world upside down. Not knowing how to comfort her mother, she began to wail loudly. If only Ma would come running and pick her up in her arms, her world would be secure once again.

She could hear her Dadi's voice raised in agitation. She did not like her Dadi at all. Nor her father for that matter. Her elder sisters were nice and played with her at times, but only when they came home at night. It was only Ma she loved with all her heart and could trust with her life. It was only her Ma who made her world a happy place. Every little wail or toothless gurgle was understood and her every little wish fulfilled - Ma fed her when hungry, patted her to sleep when cranky and even understood when she simply wanted to be held in her arms for that warm, fuzzy feeling of love and protection. So then why didnt she come running to her today when she wanted to comfort her Ma in her own way?

Ma was now sobbing while Dadi was trying to explain something to her. Oh how she wished she understood adult conversation! And where were her sisters going? Her sisters never left home before she had been given her second feed after waking up. It was still too early for them to leave the house wasnt it?

Finally, Ma came to her. She felt a wetness on her cheeks as Ma bent over her to comfort her. The wetness trickled into her tiny mouth. Salty...just like her own tears. She babbled desperately, "Don't worry Ma, it is alright. I am here. Just hug me tight and you will be fine." Her mother only cried harder.

She looked at her mother, her eyes filled with love and trust and reached out with both hands. But she didnt quite understand the look in her mother's eyes. Why were they saying 'sorry'? She was so engrossed in trying to decipher the look in Ma's eyes that she failed to see the pillow descending on her face, cutting off her air supply.

She thrashed her arms and feet in the air, mustering all the strength her little body would allow. It was a painfully short struggle. She was no match against the strong arms that held down the pillow. Life was snuffed out of her within moments......moments that would stretch into eternity for Ma.

.........................................................................................
"Now stop moping woman! We had to do this. How do you think my son would manage to feed another hungry mouth. Two girls already and you had to give birth to a third! Oh Lord, when will I get to see the face of a grandson who can support the family instead of being a burden? Now will you snap out of your zombie mode and help me bury this thing. It will start stinking soon enough. And why, may I ask, you had to look into her eyes even knowing yourself to be an emotional fool? In fact, why did you even have to be there, I could have handled it alone."

"To uphold that trust Ma," she finally spoke. "I wanted my daughter to die with trust in her eyes and not fear. And I am willing to be haunted by that look for the rest of my life....only for that momentary trust I saw in her eyes."

Deja vu

2010-04-23T23:58:00.013+05:30

Lets go out
For a cup of tea
Lets talk it over
You and me

What went wrong
What went right
Why this estrangement
Without a fight

Two spoons of sugar
A dash of lime
Hot sweet tea
Anywhere anytime

I'll listen to you
While I sip my tea
And rationalize every fear
Whatever they may be

I'll sort your scrambled thoughts
Just listen to me
Do away with confusion and once again
Go walk beneath the woodapple tree

Realization

2010-04-18T23:37:00.012+05:30

All that is good in me
Belongs to you
All that is bad in you
Belongs to me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

It lived it thrived
Because of you
It rots it dies
Because of me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

Love, care, patience
Offered by you
Grief, hatred, disappointment
Offered by me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

You tie I break
You give I take
You try I don't
I can but won't
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

But then its a reflection
Of me in you
And you in me
Jinxed from the start
Perhaps its destiny
Oh why can't you see
It was never meant to be

The window

2010-04-13T02:14:00.016+05:30

I looked up and saw the window. It was thrown open as usual. Curtains fluttering in the wind. Blue flickering lights dancing in the night. Maybe she's watching television...but..then why the silence? Every other house which has the television switched on, also throws out accompanying noises...blaring music, film dialogues, news, blah blah blah. From her window...I hear only a deafening silence which filters out into the night and envelops me in a painful embrace.

Mesmerized I stare at the window and watch the blue lights. I suspect she keeps the television on only to keep her company - a physical object filling a deep void. She does not need the sounds of the outside world as they would only cut into her solitude. Perhaps it is his voice that she yearns to hear.

He does his duty. Visits her every evening in his big, black car. Gives her a glimpse of a life she desires but can never have. He stays for a few hours each day except on weekends. Maybe the weekends are reserved for his 'family' - maybe a wife and a child or two? She does not have a right over the weekends just like she cannot have his heart - not even for a night. But then she has the television!

It is strange that I notice her open window only at night. Maybe its the curtains or maybe its the blue flickering light or maybe her world comes alive only in the darkness. But we connect each night, she and I. The window inviting me into her world and yet keeping me out.

I hope to see her someday, standing at her window, looking down at me from the shadows. But till then I will stand beneath her window each night, in the darkness and wait for permission to enter her world. Till then, the open window will suffice...

This and that...

2010-04-10T00:35:00.031+05:30

Have been meaning to regularly update my blog but laziness gets the better of me :-( Ever since I have come to Calcutta I have been getting these sudden uncontrollable urges to write...just write...about anything and everything that crosses my mind. It feels just like old times...when I used to write something everyday. However right now I do not feel like putting down anything remotely sensible so I will just write for the sake of writing. And I don't really understand why are you reading this unless, like me, you are bored out of your mind and have nothing better to do :-) Ok, here it comes:

Some things I love:
1. Blue - I mean the colour, in all shades. Blue sky, blue jeans, blue shoes (just bought two pairs last week), blue walls, blue blue blue so much so that I am even wearing blue nailpaint! Also, usually I am at my creative best when I am feeling blue :-)

2. Movies - specially watching them at a theatre munching popcorn (and I don't share!). I can also watch films in any language without subtitles only for the experience of watching it on the big screen. I love Shah Rukh Khan (ya ya ok don't roll your eyes at me) and I have watched each and every film he has acted (or overacted) in...some of which I am sure even he didnt bother to watch.

3.Rainy season - Have loved it since school days when we would get 'rainy day holiday' and we could eat our 'tiffin' in the school bus on our way back home. Love the sound of rain beating against the window panes and the sound of thunder and the sudden flashes of lightening when your dark world becomes super bright even if only for a second. Love the smell of wet earth, the puddles on the road and the khichdi and pakoras which any self respecting Bengali mom would rush to cook, the moment she hears the thunderclouds rumbling!

4.Winters - my absolute favourite season! And especially love the Delhi winters even if my nose turns red like Rudolf the reindeer and my fingers freeze over!!! Nothing beats the cozy feeling of being wrapped up in a blanket and holding a steaming cup of coffee in your hands while the temperature keeps dropping and dropping and dropping. In fact, I am convinced some intrinsic internal change happens within me each year between the months of November to February. I have consciously made an effort to note this strange phenomenon for the last couple of years. The four crucial months bring in a sense of rebellion and also a desperate need to break free. Some crucial life changing incidents happened to me during these months. It's like I evolve, step by step, each year during the winters. I have quit most of my jobs during these months and have also undertaken journeys for my soul to places like Haridwar and Rishikesh, again and again. One of my ex-bosses was forced to take me to Allahabad and Benaras to calm me down, when one fine day I just announced 'I quit'. It was during the early days of my career and it was in 'January'.

5.Books - specially fiction and especially if it is a thriller and there is some pathological serial killer on the loose and in the end the detective catches him/her and there is some psychological reason as to why s/he was such a nutcase! Also love reading about the occult/paranormal and am currently engrossed in reading 'Beyond the Occult' by Colin Wilson. I also love the smell of new books.

Other random things I love:

a.Staring at the wall/ceiling, waiting for it to change colour
b.Holding lengthy, meaningful conversations with my dogs/any other dog/infants who have not yet learned to speak
c.Eating ice cream in winters
d.Wearing black in summers
e.Singing in the shower
f.Experimental cooking (only my dad loves me enough and is brave enough to sample and appreciate everything and anything I try out)
g.Shopping at a medicine store
h.Walking from one end of the terrace to the other, all the while looking up at the sky (you should try it out sometime, it is as good as walking blindfolded)
i.Staring outside the window when its pitch dark outside
j.Collecting idols of Ganesha (yes the elephant God) in every shape and size
k.Eating milk powder with rice
l. Wearing purple
m.Talking to myself
n. Smell of petrol
o. Eating chocolate/sweets - usually - middle of the night!
p.Telling my grandma's photograph that I really really love her

Some things I hate:

1.Lizards
2.Any complicated mathematical calculation (2+2 is also a complicated mathematical calculation as far as I am concerned)
3.Stupidity
4.Summers
5.Discussing any stuff related to me with my mom - we seem to have diametrically opposing viewpoints about everything in life. But we get on famously when we are talking about anything/anyone but me :-)

Ok now its nearly 2:30 am and I have this strong urge to eat something sweet. Signing off now...got to go raid the fridge!!!

Who cares?

2010-04-01T20:30:00.004+05:30

Temperature soaring, horns blaring
Its morning on the roads of Kolkata
Two angry men on the road
A verbal fight, heated exchange of abuses
Their cars haphazardly parked
Blocking the traffic
Amidst the sea of angry vehicles and sweaty people
Stuck in a man made traffic jam
An ambulance wails
Someone is fighting for life
Maybe the roads will clear up
Maybe the ambulance will make its way through the maze
Perhaps its only a matter of few extended moments
But will those moments force a choice
Of life or death for someone somewhere
Who knows and more importantly who cares?

Its late at night
People come in fancy cars
Its a posh locality after all
The brightly lit gas station does brisk business as usual
Somewhere in the corner
Drowned in darkness
Sits a beggar, considered insane by the sane world
A gaping wound on his head
Maggots feeding on his brain
Some see him but none really see him
Nobody stops
Maybe the wound will claim his life
His soul is already taken
When and how
Who knows and more importantly who cares?

When night falls

2010-03-24T01:53:00.008+05:30

When people say they are scared of the dark, dark nights
Frankly I am a little surprised!
Shouldn't it be the days that scare us?
Days during which you pretend to be someone else
Smiling through pain, carrying on polite conversations
When all you really want to do is scream.

How are you, he asks.
I am fine , you say.
How's the job going, she queries.
Simply great, you grin.
How are you feeling today, they want to know.
Just as happy as I was yesterday, you have the answer ready.

The day demands you conform to rules
Society has set them
Follow them if you want to be a part of the circus
Defy if you dare and be an outcast

If grief tears at your heart
If you feel your insides sliced by razors
'There, there...now stop crying' they will say
If anger threatens to take over your senses
Breathe easy and count upto 10 or maybe 1000
If you are happy, remember your manners and don't laugh too loud

On days that you feel its not worth climbing out of bed
Get ready and face the world for it is expected of you
On days that you feel too happy to be trapped
Concentrate and ensure you complete that task in hand
Oh yes, its the days that I am scared of!

When night falls
You can take off that mask
Stay in bed if you want to
Or roam at the risk of being called weird
Stare at the ceiling for all its worth
Or observe the empty roads while the world sleeps
The sudden noise of a lone car might shatter your illusion that you are alone
But once the noise subsides, you can go back to your imagination
And finally be at peace
Till sleep claims you
And drags you into the world of nightmares or dreams
Depending on where your mind chooses to wander, free at last!

It is no wonder that I chose to write this at 2:15 am
Headphones in place, camouflaging a make believe world with music
But tomorrow is another day
Maybe good maybe not so good, who knows?
But I am prepared
I have a secret hiding place
If it gets too much to bear, I will run away and hide
Crouch and lie low till the day passes
And night falls
Releasing me from the clutches of the real world

Then I will step out gingerly
Stretch and spread my wings
Happy to be free

Someday I hope my senses will wake up before my intellect does
And allow me to see the world without pretensions
But till that day, on most days I will hide
In that secret place inside my mind
And wait for the night!

Ohhh Calcutta

2010-03-19T23:45:00.000+05:30

It's official - I am calcuttan once again or should it be a Kolkata-ite? Needless to say the transition from being a Delhiite to a Calcuttan (I'll go with this for now) isn't an easy task, but then who says life is easy? It took me two weeks to realise that I now stay in Kolkata. For those two weeks I was living out of my suitcase - mentally still stuck in the holiday mode. Then Ma-in-law pointed out, "ebar kapor gulo almarih tey rakh.....ekhon toh kolkatatei thakbi" (put your clothes in the cupboard now that you will stay in kolkata).

It's been a month. But each night I go to bed wondering why do I feel like an outsider in my own city? I mean , I was born and brought up in this city for godsake! Attended school and college here. And then I left.

Now after a decade I have returned home ...armed with a bagful of memories. But reality has changed. I do not recognise this city or her people anymore. I look at her with the awe reserved only for outsiders. I see, I observe and I register...renewing acquaintance with my birthplace.

I have always been fascinated by people. One of my favourite pass time is to observe people and make intuitive guesses about them - what kind of a person is he/she, what kind of work do they do, how is their life, how are they feeling at that exact moment, what is their relationship with the person with whom they are chatting over a cup of coffee, etc etc etc. Until now this had been just a hobby. But ever since I have relocated to Calcutta, this has become a survival tool. I feel I have to understand the psyche of the city by getting to know her people. It's a desperate need to blend in, to belong once again. And for that I have to get a feel of the place by observing, talking and mingling with the faithful - those who never left.

But I have a confession to make. The separation of a decade has converted me - slowly but surely. Delhi has seeped into my cells and made a home in my heart. Delhi, with all its rudeness, its aggression, political highbrowness, indecent flaunting of exhorbitant wealth, is home. Delhi, with its maginificent wide roads, its historic monuments, its metropolitan culture and 'I-care-a -damn' attitude, is home. I now look at Calcutta with the eyes of a Delhiite and thus feel out of place. Some friends here comment that I am now a 'Dilliwali' - and though I would die before I admit it in front of them - I think that maybe the conversion has indeed happened. Like an authentic, spoiled 'NRB' (Non Resident Bengali equally snobbish and pseudo as the NRI) - I complain "Ufff the heat here is unbearable (conveniently forgetting the soaring temperature of a Delhi summer). People here sweat so much and they stink (As if north Indians have an in built fragrance generator to help them combat body odour). OMG what are these people wearing - didnt that go out of style like about 7 years back? (ya right - the Punjabi aunties in Delhi are the fashion icons of India). Everybody uses public transport here - and am I seriously expected to travel by a public bus - you must be outta your mind! In saddi Dilli everybody goes to the local market to buy vegetables in their spare family car (pollution, global warming, what?)" - Yes people - I am a Delhiite and proud to be one!

Now having said all of the above, I must also accept that I am not immune to Kolkata's charms. Waking up to the scents and sounds of the city is sheer bliss! Only here my mornings start with the rickshaw horn going 'pyan pyun' (cant spell it right), the sizzle of fish being released into hot oil in kadai (every bengali household has this utensil in various sizes) and yes, a baul or a minstrel (Mihir Pal - just had an early morning chat with him) singing devotional songs right under my bedroom window. Please note: for the princely sum of twenty rupees Mihir Pal obliged and sang requests too :-)

Among other things, Kolkata is also one of the cheapest metros in the country and you can easily stuff your face in any decent joint in the city and pay atleast half of what you would in Delhi. A foodaholic's paradise - the variety and flavours on offer here are simply unparalleled. You know you are a true Bong from Kolkata if you are intimately acquainted with these terms and it doesnt seem like I am talking gibberish: 'Chittoda's eshtew', 'Gol barir kosha mangsho', 'Paramount er shorbot', 'Anadi r moghlai', 'Ralli's er mixed chaat and kulfi', 'Oly pub er beef steak and world -famous- in- kolkata kashundi' etc etc etc. And words like Aliya,Rahmania, Shiraz, Arsalan are household names for you. I am sure any Bengali worth his fish can add atleast 50 more names to the list but I am restricted in my knowledge due to the handicap of a NRB status!

My vocabulary has also increased by leaps and bounds since my return to the city. Some words and expressions which I recently learned and re-learned include:

1. Enti r bari = Entire house/independent house (courtesy: brokers helping with our house hunt)
2. Bombay cutting er bari = House with a contemporary style, usually white in colour with border of a contrasting colour (courtesy: same as above)
3. Hostell = Horsetail aka Ponytail (courtesy: neighbourhood kakima/aunty)4. No poblem = No problem (this one was easy to comprehend wasnt it?)
5. Chanp achey = 'There's pressure' or 'this may be tough'
6. Mata (T pronounced as in tomato) = An idiot
7. Mairi bolchi = I swear I am telling the truth
8. Dhhop = A lie
9. Adda = Chatting with anybody about anything at any time of the day (also a national pass time for the average Bong)
10. Jol khabar = Snacks (supposedly light morning/evening snacks which may consist of puri & sabzi, kachauris, samosas/shingara etc.)

Please feel free to add to the list :-)

And last but not the least, Kolkata has ensured that I get reacquainted with Bangali kalture (culture) through the most common medium - Rabindra sangeet! So every Wednesday between 8:30 - 9:30 pm my hapless neighbours stuff cotton into their ears as I exercise my vocal chords under the guidance of my 'teacher' - a dear kakima (aunty) with the voice of an angel.

So far so good. But will I be able to live and work here and start my life afresh? I don't know. Will let you know as soon as I find out.

signing off for now. Goodnight.

Phoonk - supposedly a black magic story!!!

2008-08-12T18:20:00.000+05:30

Ramu has done it again! Yes, he is back with yet another horror flick, but this time positioned as a 'black magic' story. I mean, why try extra hard to scare the audience? Simply stating that this movie has been made by 'Ram Gopal Varma' should be scary enough, especially after his disastrous attempts like 'Aag'...that was more like aaagghh!!! Well, before I lose track, let me come back to the point. So, where was I? Yes, Phoonk.

Now, this film is being being touted as one of the scariest Bollywood flicks in recent times and the director has even dared the masses to watch it alone. Also, like any other hindi movie, it is supposed to be 'zara hatkey' from the regular horror flicks, as it deals with 'black magic' and presumably superstitions. The trailer gives immense importance to a yellow lemon, which is commonly associated with black magic. Frankly, I have no clue about the association of a lemon and spells and would be obliged if someone could throw some light on this. However, the lemon has been depicted in numerous movies as the carrier of some black magic spells, to generate sufficient fear about it. In India, it is common to see many people tie a yellow lemon and some chillies outside their shops or even homes to ward off the evil eye. So if I list out some of the most feared objects as far as superstitions are concerned, then the yellow lemon would rank quite high, probably right next to the black cat.

Coming back to Phoonk. I have nothing against this film and since I had liked Mr. Varma's earlier venture 'Bhooth', I am looking forward to Phoonk as well. However, my only concern is that we Indians are a very superstitious lot and any action depicted in movies, if strongly portrayed, is bound to affect the psyche of the masses. So, my concern is actually for the poor lemon. Already feared as a carrier of evil, its reputation will be seriously damaged after this movie. If a cursed lemon can cause the intended target to behave like the protagonist of "Exorcist', which I am sure was a source of inspiration for Mr. Varma, then any blameless lemon lying on the road can also be misunderstood easily.

The trailer of Phoonk also shows a woman piercing a black doll with needles and this again is a common association with black magic. I, personally have a great respect for any art and magic, whether white or black, is a great art indeed. So, if our movies, which are intended for the masses, depict such actions, it is bound to create further misconceptions in the minds of the people watching it. In fact, subjects like astrology, tarot, hynotherapy, past life regressions, etc. are all misconstrued by the masses due to their projection in movies.

I believe in the intangible force, I believe in a proven science like astrology, I believe in negative and positive vibes and intuition and telepathy, I believe in past lives and karmic bondings and I believe there is evil because I believe in god. However, such beliefs are a personal opinion and shaped by consistent research on these matters. Most people, however, simply go by superstitions and I fear that such movies which process half baked ideas on these subjects will create further misunderstanding among the audience. Movies like Phoonk should be seen and enjoyed only for the entertainment value and not for forming ideas on subjects like black magic. Hope the audience just does that - enjoy and forget!

But before I end my rambling, I would like to state that all I have written about the movie is simply based on my perceptions drawn from the trailer and promos and previews. I might have a completely different story to tell once I have actually watched it! Also, I hope to find out the story behind the lemon before long so help me in my quest. Till then, awaiting the release of Phooooonk...

When nothing seems right!

2008-05-24T17:37:00.000+05:30

I am irritated and bordering on the verge of severe depression. Now you may ask,why. No issues, I would have told you anyways. Well, the problem lies in this year! Yes, the year 2008. I don't like it. In fact, I have not liked it since the very beginning of this year. Or no, maybe even earlier. Yes, I did not like this year from the ending of the previous year. There, that's better, now that I have accepted the truth. the truth is the fact that I already had a pre conceived notion about how the year would turn out to be and it seems as if the events taking place this year are only trying to re-affirm my faith that, this indeed is a bad year!

The worst of the lot till now has been the month of March and now May, or is it progressively getting worse? I dunno, am just too depressed to analyze it in a rational manner. I mean, everything that could possibly go wrong, is actually going wrong and more. And it is not just me who feels this way. Many people I know have also confirmed that nothing seems to be working out for them too. Office, family, love life, friendship, opportunities, blah blah blah, everything is one big mess! The situation is like an awful soup which your mother used to make when you were really ill and then you were forced to gulp it down. Yes, life is that awful right now.

Now, I have never been the most logical, rational, cool tempered person that you have met so far, oh no I do not fit the bill at all, but I have also never been this irritated, angry young woman as well. My mood swings are getting worse by the day. Rational thought has taken a complete backseat while irrational fears grip my heart. Each morning I wake up thinking, now what can possibly go wrong today? And that is not how I want to start each day.

So, I have given this situation of progressively deteriorating year some serious thought. Ok, so the year has not been too good so far, ahem, that was an understatement! Also, the astrological combinations in my chart are not at their most favorable positions. Besides, the planets have also decided to act loony and change their positions and turn all plans upside down! Everyone around me seems to be having fits, as they are either angry, sad, depressed or plain and simple crazy. But......but is the situation really so bad?

A sneaky suspicion creeps into my mind as I take a bird's eye view of the situation. Is it possible that nature is conspiring to give us exactly what we are anticipating? I mean, is it our negative thoughts and vibes that are affecting the environment around us and our life in general? Think carefully. Has it never happened to you that when you are desperately thinking of someone, that person calls? How do explain these incidents. Well, I have my own explanation. I think it might be our vibes and the power of thoughts that influence our life. If I think something bad will happen, it actually does. On the contrary, if I expect things to change for the better, who knows, it just might!

So, now that I think about it, I have indeed been very negative about this year right from the beginning and hence the year is treating me in this manner. Maybe, its just time to change my attitude towards life and give life a chance to change for the better? The wheel is turning. Is it now my turn to be on the top? Who knows, meanwhile let me just start thinking positively about the rest of the year and maybe then 2008 will return the favor!

Many shades of life!

2008-03-31T16:31:00.000+05:30

Am back in office after a gap of 11 days. No, I was not on any vacation, although my leaves will be shown under the category of 'annual leaves" that people usually take for a vacation or a quick visit home. the reason for my absence was a catastrophe at home. When I review the events that took place in the past few days of my life, there is a sense of disbelief, even though I had actually lived through each moment myself. It all started on a Thursday morning, 5 :15 am to be precise.

My friend Ayesha and I were fast asleep on the morning of 20th March 2008, trying to grab the last few hours of beauty sleep before the alarm woke us up for office. At around 5:15 am, I had a frantic knocking at my door. In my sleep infused state, I realized it was my housekeeper's wife, banging at the door, mumbling something about her husband Amrit. That woke me up completely. Amrit had been suffering from fever since the last 2-3 days and had taken normal medication and I assumed he had also gone to a doctor, since I had absolutely insisted on it.

When I opened the door, Kamla was standing there, looking very worried. She informed us that Amrit's fever had escalated during the night and she was scared. One look at Amrit told me, she had good reason to be scared. The normal young guy I had seen just last night seemed to have disappeared behind a facade of red eyes and an obviously sick person who is suffering from high fever. As my husband was out of town, I found myself desperately trying to arrange for some mode of transportation to the nearest hospital. The cab driver whose number I had was not responding to my frantic calls. Next i tried even an auto driver's number which i had stored for emergencies (Thank God).

Finally the auto driver responded and arrived at our place at 6:15 am. Ayesha, Amrit, his wife and their 2 n 1/2 year old kid all left for the hospital, while i had to wait helplessly at home, because I had to watch over my 4 dogs. At that time, while I was just sitting at home, waiting for regular update from the hospital every 15 mins to 1/2 n hour, I did not realize that this was just the beginning of a nightmare.

Amrit was immediately admitted to the emergency ward, where doctors gave him some injections, medicines and saline drip. he was then shifted to the general ward. Ayesha assured me, everything was under control for the time being as doctors were looking after him. She left for office directly from the hospital while Kamla stayed back to cater to her husband's needs. I was stuck at home and still in suspense about his condition. Soon, some of his cousins arrived and by the next day some other people from his village too, who were all working in various parts of Delhi. I took turns to visit the hospital with my brother and tried to decipher what exactly had happened after speaking to the various doctors.

Things just started getting complicated from then onwards. He was shifted to a different hospital by his relatives and friends and for a strange reason they would not inform us of his whereabouts. Frantic calls to various hospitals, relatives of Amrit and his firneds finally allowed us to relocate him. It was total mayhem. Kamla and the kid were in the thick of things with me watching helplessly from the sidelines. My husband took a break from his work and came back in the middle of a project, as he and Amrit had always shared a special bond.

Well, to cut a long, long story short - Amrit died on Tuesday, the 25th March 2008. Yes, he died, of a severe attack of meningitis, which the doctors had taken a long time to diagnose and hence treat. We were in a complete state of disbelief although we had got the warning that it might happen since Sunday night, as his condition kept deteriorating each day.

Now, its been 6 days since Amrit is no more with us. His wife and kid have returned to their native village for the Hindu rituals to be followed after a death. She was absolutely sure that she will return to us, to that home where she and her kid will find comfort and security, the home where her husband was last seen in the form in which she wanted to remember him always.

We have found a replacement for the time being. My husband has gone back to work. And life goes on. But it is not the same. In theory, we have just lost a housekeeper, but the vacuum that has been created - that I cannot put down in words. Everything and everyone in our house has been touched and tinged forever with his memory. even now we have not completely accepted that Amrit will not respond when we call out his name. I find it strange not to see his cycle standing in our backyard. I find it strange that there is no Nepali song being sung in his toneless voice as he goes about his work. I find it strange that he is simply not there!!!

Strange are the many shades of life in which every person leaves their prints behind in a riot of colors. maybe we can cope better with the loss of this human being that we had cherished, scolded and loved in our own ways. only when Kamla returns to us with their son. Eagerly waiting for her return, if nothing less then just to see a little bit of Amrit kept alive through his little boy!!!

soulmates...

2008-02-11T16:33:00.000+05:30

Love at first sight...being comfortable with a person even if you have met that person for the first time...finding a friend who completes your sentences...what do you call all these incidents?

All of us have come across someone or the other and often more than one person, whom we seem to have known forever. It usually happens between companions who have the perfect tuning. Or even people who have been friends for long. At times it may so happen that you did not actively keep in touch with a friend by making regular calls or meeting up as often as you would have liked. But suppose you talk to that friend after a long gap or better still, you happen to meet up, even after a gap of years, you can quite easily start from wherever you had left off. It makes you feel as if your souls had been connected all along, at a level much beyond the physical.

Often you may have noticed that certain people crop up in your life whenever a particular kind of incident happens. For instance, you may keep getting back in touch with a friend when you need someone to talk to during a difficult time in your life. That friend appears in your life (even if you have not been in touch for years) - the friend lends you a shoulder to cry on, gives helpful advice and once the situation has been resolved, you lose touch again, seemingly in a completely explainable manner...but is it? the surprising coincidence is when that friend makes a re-appearance again - once more, when you are having a bad time!!! It may also be possible that YOU are that friend in someone's life.

Some relationships happen only to teach you a valuable lesson and once that lesson is learned, the relationship ends. that explains why you get so affected by a person who fleetingly appears in your life only to disappear in a similar manner. But some connections are for a lifetime which are sustained in spite of the odds against it. People in such relationships are soulmates in the true sense.

Soulmates have always existed in our circle - in every birth that we have taken our soulmates have been with us in some form or the other. A mother could have been a child whereas a husband could have been a sibling. Take a look around and see the people who matter to you. I mean really SEE them. Analyze the relationship that you have with them. Are you playing the mother to a friend? Is your husband filling in the gap of a father? Once you have really seen your relationships closely you will recognize your soulmate/soulmates! it will not only help you know them better but perhaps also help you understand each and every person's action and reaction and importance in your life. So long, till then - happy searching!

anger management!!!

2008-01-29T17:21:00.000+05:30

Take a deep breath...inhale...exhale....inhale....exhale.....

No no I have not changed my profession to become a yoga teacher but I wish I could. change my profession and enter an industry that is free from inter personal clashes, ego wars and of course nasty politics. it would be a wonderful and idealistic situation if people started to get what they deserve but alas this is a rare occurrence indeed. like for example, salary hikes. do you think people really get what they deserve? nahhhhh....haven't you seen totally undeserving people get salaries which in no ways is justified by their contribution to the organization. N yet some people prefer to remain quiet and accept whatever comes their way. Well, I think it is all about portraying an image that 'boss, i am working a lot'.

The people who gain the most out of such situations are the ones who 'look busy do nothing'. then I wonder why am I finding it so difficult to just adapt to this scenario and go with the flow? I think perhaps I need to revamp my thoughts and my approach to work. whether i do a lot or not it should at least be 'projected' as a major contribution otherwise I shall fall far behind in the rat race.

but then again a question comes to my mind. even if i do manage to win the race i would still be a rat wouldnt I? Do i really want to exist that way? I don't think so. So what should people like me do? Protest whenever you can or just shut your trap and do nothing about it? I really don't know....but sure hope to find a way out and prove myself not to outsiders but to myself!

So with this positive frame of mind (forced),its goodbye for now:-)

Nightmares and dreams!

2007-11-15T17:00:00.000+05:30

I have always heard that we dream in black & white and not colours. Then how do you explain the fact that I distinctly remember colours like red and blue from some of my vivid dream sequences? Also, will somebody tell me why so many books and theories are available on dream interpretation when I cannot make head or tail of my dreams or even nightmares? Whenever I have taken the liberty of describing my very serious account of a previous night's dreams, I have always managed to have the audience rolling on the floor with laughter. Not because my dreams or their interpretations are funny, but because of the sheer idiocy of manner in which my dream sequences play out in my sleep tainted mind. I also have varied responses besides the humour angle - people have also occasionally wanted to strangle me, when I gave a very interesting account of a dream, only to finish it off midway, coz that's exactly how my dream had ended. Like the power going off just when you are about to see the face of a killer in a suspense movie!!!

I also wonder if you have experienced any realistic nightmares which leave you shivering long after you have woken up from your disturbed sleep. I, for one, am the living expert on these. My nightmares have been so vivid that I have actually followed some advice given to me during these nightmares, coz I was too scared to ignore the supposed warnings. Recently I woke up from one such experience and remembered a phrase, a sort of warning, and till now I am trying to search for the meaning of it. the term I 'heard' distinctly in my nightmare was 'shani bandhak" and am still trying to figure out what it means. Guys, any help would be appreciated.

now, last but not the least, let me discuss the weird aspect of my very special 'continuation' dreams. It's almost like watching a serial, divided into episodes. Suppose, I am dreaming about something and I am rudely interrupted in the middle of a scene by my two labradors who decide to wake me up just then with an over friendly lick in the middle of the night - I can wake up, talk to them, go to the washroom , walk back to my bed and fall asleep again, only to start dreaming from point where I had left off. It's almost as if the characters in my dream were waiting for me to go back to sleep to resume whatever it is that they had been doing. Downright weird I tell you! You won't be able to understand the strange feeling of being suspended in reality that this kind of dream leaves you with. You are no longer sure, what is real and what have you dreamt up. sounds crazy huh? well, tell me about it (rolling my eyes)!

Ok now, I have told you some ramblings from my end and now as Sidney Sheldon would have said it...Tell Me Your Dreams!!!

Destruction!

2007-08-23T11:54:00.000+05:30

Run for your lives
Don't stand and stare
There's death and destruction everywhere

He lost a daughter
She lost a son
All it took was a shot from a gun

Dying infants and wailing cries
The smell of death
Fills up the skies

Destruction of values
Elimination of races
While real people become nameless faces

People are dying
Do not question how
Don't you know its wartime now!

Office! Office!

2007-08-17T17:23:00.000+05:30

Politics and backbiting is undoubtedly our national past time. Most of us who are working with any organization can surely relate to this statement. If you want to survive in the professional field AND make a success of your career, you must be well armed with the knack of playing dirty politics. Not that I consciously wanted to use the word 'dirty' with politics but somehow the words always seem to go together!

An office is a gathering of people with different values, cultures and beliefs. The challenge, undoubtedly, lies in the ability to bury your differences and form a professional relationship with your colleagues. But how many of us can say that we are working in such ideal environments? I am sure that if you mentally scan your work atmosphere you can definitely throw up a few names that survive solely on the strength of backbiting others and creating misunderstandings among the people. I have also noticed a common trait that such people have - shirking responsibility for their own job while gleefully interfering in the work of others! Creating unnecessary hassles in official work of the 'target' is another common practice.Spreading rumours, instigating colleagues against each other and into verbal fights is just few of the methods adopted by these office politicians. And just like the national scenario, office politics is simply going from bad to worse!

I, apparently havent mastered the art of dealing with such scenarios. believe me I am trying hard. Trying hard not to lash out at a colleague when i find him unnecessarily delaying my work, trying not to lash out when I see my colleague being harassed due to no fault of hers. Believe me i am trying!!! But till the time I manage to overcome my handicap and can turn a blind eye to these office games, I guess I will have to cool my heels by smoking away my anger.

Uncanny canines

2007-07-06T00:53:00.000+05:30

As all dog lovers know, a dog is a man's best friend and even a woman's for that matter! Being a dog owner, I couldn't agree more. A dog will still be wagging it's tail at you even if you had left it alone all day. It will give you company on lonely evenings when all your loved ones are busy with their own life. And lick your face lovingly even if it has received a newspaper whack for some mischief! Rather than investing on security guards it would make sense if everyone invested a little love and care on a dog...trust me the grateful mutt will guard you with his life against seen and unseen danger. Now, did I say unseen? Let me try to explain what I meant by this comment.

Animals and specially dogs are known for their sixth sense. Have you ever noticed a dog barking at a blank space? It can be really eerie I tell you. Imagine it's a dark and stormy night and you are alone at home. So far so good. All of a sudden your lazy assed dog, who never raises a paw unless absolutely necessary for it's survival, is all alert with cocked ears and it's heckles raised. You instinctively look around the room and strain your ears, only to see nothing and hear nothing! But your dog has definitely picked up a scent that it doesn't like and starts barking furiously...at a blank wall. It tries to cordon off the area and stand guard in front of you, protecting you from something or someone ...unseen...

Next time you see a dog doing this just pause and ponder!

Premonition!

2007-06-29T15:03:00.000+05:30

Just watched the flick 'Premonition' which had Sandra Bullock playing the character of a woman who finds herself stuck in a world that wavers between reality and the supposedly unreal existence. As the story unwinds the audience discover that Sandra Bullock has the gift or in this case the curse of premonition. for those of you who are completely cut off from the world of psychic powers, let me take it upon myself to explain the term to you!

Premonition is a person's ability to foresee future events. It is a small part of the tremendous psychic energy that exists in this world and the world beyond, maybe? Hey, before you start laughing at this notion, let me ask you a simple thing. Have you never felt a strong intuitive feeling regarding some matters and often discovered later that perhaps you should have listened to that little voice in your head rather than the so-called practical advice? That, my friend, is also a part of the psychic games that our mind plays with us.

And those of us who do believe in premonition, we have some elite company joining us folks! Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain amongst many others, had famous premonitions regarding the day of their death. So non-believers, maybe its time you widen your horizon a little? But anyways, what do I know, after all mine are just some ramblings of a disturbed mind!!!

Me, myself and Jini

2007-06-08T12:41:00.000+05:30

Being a Gemini I have often been told by the other zodiacs that we are double-faced. I feel Gemini's are more of the split personality kinds! No two people can ever describe a Gemini in the same manner. For some I am an introvert while others will be happy to see me shut up for 5 minutes. I can be fiercely vocal one minute and go into my shell the next minute. I can be an emotional fool or the symbol of practicality depending on whom I am dealing with. I can be brave enough to deal with an intruder but am scared of the dark. And so it goes on and on...

But I wonder if its only me or are there others like me out there? Don't we all turn into a different person depending on the circumstances or the people we are mixing around with? I strongly believe that each of us have many different people living inside us and they emerge one at a time depending on the situation. Personality shades that grow strong and weak - depending on a whole lot of factors. Or else how can you explain a dacoit who turned into a saint overnight, a king who renounced his kingdom to become a monk, a jailbird who becomes an international performer and even transitions that take place closer to home. An irresponsible teenager suddenly grows up to take charge of a big company, a carefree girl becomes a strict mother and so on.

You may argue that society and circumstances bring about this change. But the point remains that one person can become another depending on the catalyst so maybe all of us are hiding other people inside, who knows? Time a for little soul searching maybe! Look within yourself and ask Hello, is there anybody in there???