The Pragmatic Pencil

Memory sings a tune

2011-06-14T10:09:00.004+02:00

Never mind Sanjay Dutt and his yellow Espirit sweatshirt,
Nor cat-y Mandakini,
Or even their running around the trees.
I love this song! Very much so, I can hear it 1000 times in a loop! It rings sooooooooo many memories for me.

A mocking voice in my head accuses me of going soft or worse-romantic?? Dumb..dumb..dumb

T trouble

2011-05-03T17:31:00.016+02:00

After a day of free beauty tanning, a thrilling DTC bus ride and only a complimentary kilo of "mere desh ki dharti" clogged inside my lungs, I am completely clapped out but back home :)

I finally reconciled with my divorced cup of tea. Why ...oh why I end up becoming your slave? :(

Of course I didn't / can't / won't enjoy my tea like this. Interesting. Why on Earth would someone drink like that?

Picture courtesy:http://www.weirdthings.org.uk/

I honk, therefore I am.

2011-05-01T17:23:00.011+02:00

Life for me was simple. All I wanted was to stumble upon love and have bonny babies. But looks like that’s not all that’s going to be on my wish-list! I also wish people DON' T honk, unnecessarily that is.

I understand that I’m just another boring dork sitting on the bus trying to appreciate the inconsequential tiny little everyday details. Infinitesimally small as I may exist on Earth, but I do matter... right? But when you honk, you regurgitate my brain out of its skull, savagely kill my thoughts and whisk my musings out of the window! Yes you do.

I know, you haven’t got much time to entertain issues like peaceful co-existence.And I am doubtful if I may change the world today! I contemplate you are God-like busy and that's why you supra bleep. All I want to say is that honking is as ugly as people pissing on the streets. Slow down a bit, you won’t lose a thing.

Probably ;)

2011-04-29T17:27:00.003+02:00

Confessions of an ex-unemployed

2011-04-27T18:28:00.016+02:00

A job is not just a job. It means much more to us than we think it does. If you don’t believe, ask me. I have been a victim of the "You have a job right? OMG you don't?" malady. Moving in and out of jobs has been distasteful and being there I assure you, empathy is never on the menu!

When I started working as a PhD student I loved the very moment of my financial independence. To pursue a degree in Germany without making my parents run a “money -worry” in their head brought along unaccustomed self-reliance. In retrospect, I think it was all about money at that time.

So far so good. But then, I became Dr. Arpita and was ushered in to a world where contrary to the popular belief, we PhD’s did have trouble finding work. After pushing myself so hard all my life to have a career, I was without one. Being unemployed affected the rest of my viability in ways I could hardly comprehend. Every day I was obsessed over the fact that may be “I read too much or didn’t read enough!” The very sense of purpose was lost. I was eating less, sleeping less but plaguing myself and people around me more and more. Especially JR. We spent all our time worrying together, brooding together and getting irritated together- but still doing it together, and I thank God for that :)

Today I am employed. I don’t know if I have landed with a job I love or financially I am where I would love to see myself. All I can say it has just begun and in the light of all circumstances I know it means a lot to me. And it’s not only about money this time. It’s about independence, confidence, self-worth and goals in life. It’s about dreams. It’s about envisioning a beautiful life with JR and working towards making it happen. It’s about contentment.

Picture courtesy: http://www.kwika.org

What a moment!

2011-04-03T13:13:00.007+02:00

Wow, I would tell my kids..."Well..you see, I was alive when India did it!!" ;) Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy :)

My Dad's virtual world!

2011-03-26T12:16:00.006+01:00

My dad is just about one of my favorite people on this planet. He’s our family encyclopedia, a brilliant photographer and a great musician...someone we always look up to. But above all he’s a real cute guy, just that he doesn’t know that he is one ;)

My dad never got an opportunity to use computer at work (he had Mr. Personal Assistant), so basically he was never good at it. But now that he is retired, he has made a personal e-mail ID (other than his official mail) and has started exploring the cyber world. How the mighty have fallen! He is catching up real fast and enjoying it too. It’s nice to see that the “The Computer” is not an alien anymore! Just that my heart reaches out to him when he helplessly searches for keys and that only one finger from his right hand does all the typing. Nothing says “Love Me” like the child inside my 60+ dad :)

Photo courtesy :http://www.thisnext.com/show/item-images/91C6A24B/

My rambling best

2011-03-23T16:28:00.012+01:00

Not that I got any wiser all this while I wasn’t around, I just got older. I had nothing interesting to write and likewise, I don’t harbor any lofty intentions to pen some ambitious fiction today. I am just rambling around, doing what I am best at.

I think for some reason, my most important thoughts and ideas struck me when I’m in the bathroom. Not to mention I am also at my creative supreme. I see every possible way the tile patterns can take on and the curtains may sway. Don’t know if it happens with others too.

I have grown up with a mother who loves tea. But lots of RA medicines and little bit of will power has got me off it. Just that I wonder if something else can replace what a steaming cup of tea does. I am talking about that fleeting moment of self-introspection and opening a conversation with the known or unacquainted.

Addiction makes one lonely or shameful. I was passing by a dimly lit street near my home yesterday and witnessed a street urchin desperately sniffing whitener ink puffed inside a blown up polythene bag. I don’t know if he was inhaling for life or for death. I wish I could help him unlearn the learned helplessness.

Recently I became acutely aware of the uncertainties of life. One day it gives you a beautiful sunshine and the other day it asks you to choose your disaster- Earthquake, Tsunami or Radiation? At the same time, I appreciate the human capacity to adapt and conciliate without any conscious efforts. We don’t discover our strength to live homeless until our roofs are taken away. The stories of a beautiful past, a disastrous present and the hope for a new future are muddled together on same ground. I pray all that exists now, lives on.

Photo courtesy: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/

to Be or not to Be, B.Swathi!

2011-01-06T16:49:00.018+01:00

A long, long time ago, there was a girl called B.Swathi, and then there was Me. We were in school, 4^th grade.

B. Swathi was all that a 10 year old kid like me would be interested in emulating.

Her parents were doctors.

My dad worked in the “office” and ma was a “housewife”.

B.Swathi had a maid who used to come right at the lunch break with sandwiches, orange juice with a sipper and paper napkins.

I used to carry a haldi-stained lunchbox with parantha oil dripping from the corners.

B.Swathi had white teeth, sparkling like crystals in a Swarovski showroom.

I had teeth which were sure to horrify me for the rest of my life.

B.Swathi wore long, silky plats with satin ribbons.

Mine was an oiled beehive hairdo.

B.Swathi had healthy, plump shiny nails.

Mine were habitually chewed, red and crooked.

B. Swathi spoke English. Grammatically correct, polished English.

I only wrote the kind which was enough to score a 7/10 in our English dictation.

May be this small list of “difference between” was why, when all our pep talks were over and teachers were around us, B.Swathi pretended not to be associated with me!

In a nutshell, B. Swathi terrified Me! It had gone unspoken, but deep down I silently used to ask myself “Seriously..Don’t you so very envy her life?”

B.Swathi left school in 5^th grade to go to the “best” school in Delhi. But, for as long as I remember, I never forgot her.

Swathi...I don’t hate you, not anymore! I don’t try to be like you and you are not my “model-person” in life, any longer. And all those things that were a big deal then, so as I thought; are not important this day!

Even today I am raw. But I am real and have been the best I could be. I just wonder how you have grown up to be.

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Much ado about I Do!

2010-12-19T17:05:00.008+01:00

I swear I am going to plonk this answer on all the distressed aunties who ask too frequently, when I am going to get married.

"Once the baby is out & I figure out who's the daddy out of my 3 boyfriends, I will ;)

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Fair ain't Lovely

2010-12-15T14:35:00.016+01:00

Does anyone remember the Morose Dad-Fairness Cream advertisement that used to come ages ago? Where poor daddy was upset over his dark girl (and coincidentally a born loser)? With a doomed career and no guy hitting on her, she had an awful-awful life. Until one day, when she acts super smart by mopping her face with a fairness cream and becomes a ‘Fair n Lovely’ air hostess (but factually speaking, being relatively the same dumbass that she was) and ushers her senti-mental parents to a 5 star hotel. Oh my God, such a happy ending, I feel like sobbing.

And guess what? The nation has evolved, and funnily enough now it’s the guys who are the dark-losers! But do they have to worry? Looks like they need not! Because here comes Mr. Saviour Khan, whose special formula uplifts their drowning sex appeal and viola helps them get the chick! ‘Clink’

So far so good. The only hiccup remains that for a country with a majority of dark-skinned people, the cultural idealization of light skin is full of irony!

Now, I don’t know if all rich and successful Indians have fair and squeaky-clean spotless skin. What I know is that I definitely fail to make it to the aforementioned spectrum. I ain’t fair, neither have I ever fancied to be! Now having said that, will it allow me to watch my TV peacefully for an hour without coming across at least one annoying advertisement that promises to make me a fairness queen?

And lastly, Mrs. Khan and Ms. Basu, don’t you think I should probably feel sad for both of you? For it would have been damn demoralizing and disheartening to see your man getting bitten by the fairness bug and not by your beauty skin deep.

The Happy and Sad Life.

2010-12-10T16:52:00.023+01:00

Sometimes you just want your life to work. Is it easy? Usually not.

The black ‘n’ white, happy ‘n’ sad megalo-logics of life have significant limitations when it comes to the emotional gray area of the brain, especially of people dying with pain. Okieeeee, I wanted it to be hauntingly poignant, but looks like it didn’t come out right again.

In simple words, I am dealing with an “incurable disease” and that too gallantly. I know, writing this for the “n^th” time will not get me critical acclaim, but let me be a little immodest, since this happens to be MY blog!

Being all happy OR all sad doesn’t work for me anymore, but I am thankful and overwhelmed that I have (or trying?) to score a middle ground that works for me most of the times. To find acceptance in life is tough. Some days I don’t care. On rough days I do, when I go bumbling around, looking for something more to it than just pain.

For one who sought perfection all her life, I have been miles away from reality. But trust me, the closest thing to reality is: There’s only one life. With/without pain, perfect/darn imperfect; you got to take it or just leave it!

There are lots of things that I can’t do anymore, but a lot more that I do and couldn’t have done earlier. Life has slowed down for my age, but now I am able to breathe in the beauty of life, I ran past earlier. I can love the sick, physically challenged and old a lot lot more than before. And of course, popping in the God-damn pills! So while they continue to boost my current belief that I am the most painful one on the planet, I give them some respect in making my life a lot more tangible. May be some day, I will accept it all and find all of it normal.

The days when I am unsure about my abilities (remember the rough days?) and wonder how far I will go, I just turn back and see. I see my family, who have been generous enough to shoulder my radioactive baggage of problems and saved me the trouble of going through this all alone.

And I see the man I love. At times, I feel what should I do with him? But most of the times, I feel, what would I do without him! For He is the only one who reminds me that being a kid again is OK and that Life's one long picnic after all! "JR" has promised me beautiful babies. Pure bliss? Yes :)

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

The rain before it falls

2010-11-01T14:48:00.019+01:00

I always loved the rain. Strange as it may sound, but before the droplets made their way to earth.

I liked the wind whistling through the doors, confusing the dangling chimes into a loud cacophony. And much much more.

Alas! It would rain, then..

Washing down the interestingly convoluted drama of life with an even absurdity!

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

P.S. The title of the post derives its inspiration from “The Rain Before It Falls”, a beautiful piece of fiction by Jonathon Coe.

Breathing lips

2010-10-29T17:47:00.009+02:00

Like bodies entangled in the molten lava of Pompeii, telling no tales,

Too she is silent.

Tweaking through her vessels are a few lazy blood drops,

Escaping the chaos of oxygenating the earthy remains.

All the signs of passion have bleached out of her skin,

Only a pair of lips remaining, that could kiss but not love

And flash a smile,

To glamorize the sepia tainted memory of her with brilliant colours.

She is dead.

Slowly consumed,

And extinct.

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Babel

2010-10-19T18:45:00.019+02:00

National Geographic says there are 6000 languages in the world.

Big number!

Yet the elemental desire, to be heard and understood lingers on...

I wonder, if it is just the poverty of language in the contemporary world.

Picture courtesy: http://www.thw.coventry.sch.uk

I know

2010-09-30T15:34:00.020+02:00

In the age and place I live, people are strange (Don't look at me like that!)

They know everything.

They do not acknowledge the art of learning anymore.

I just wish when they are tired of thinking they know everything, they try flipping an omelette!

A drawer full of …

2010-08-03T23:22:00.010+02:00

Hurriedly scribbled messages…happy, sad and inert,
Dried flowers; falling apart,
Bills smelling of cappuccino,
Stamped entry tickets,
Tainted restaurant paper napkins,
Washed out ferry passes,
Folded train itineraries,
Tea stained pictures.

Replaying tiny details of the days once lived,
Recapitulating the smell, sound and feel of a time that’s intangible yet familiar,
My drawer is full of moments and faceless memories.

Picture courtesy: http://www.theletteredcottage.net

What's in a name?

2010-07-25T13:17:00.007+02:00

In this crazy world, your name is lost amongst a million...
It finds identity when it reverberates through a child's voice. I found mine through Akshansh...love being his "Mauchhhhhhi" :)

Everything is fine...

2010-07-08T20:44:00.008+02:00

I have been in pain for years and sometimes I really wish it wasn’t there.

Just a single day when I didn’t have to summon all my physical and mental strength to get off the bed.

A single night of tranquility without sedatives.

A single step without a limp.

An effortless breath of air.

An appetite for life.

Its funny but sometimes the “normal things” in life become an immoderate ambition!

And no, it’s not "all in my head". You don’t SEE my soreness, because I deliberately overlook my own pain....and efficiently enough. Pain is isolating. Hence, it’s often polite, simpler and happier to hide it than to apologize for it.

Nevertheless, there are times when the pain intimidates you..The fleeting moments of failure make you vulnerable enough to ask “WHY ME”? But, so is life, you didn't choose one, you were only gifted with one. And the least I can do with my life is to live it with dignity and hope. A hope that I will be happy. A hope I will be “normal” :)

So, next time you ask me if I am in pain and I say “Everything is fine”, trust me...I am healing.

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Virgin sleep

2010-07-04T19:38:00.018+02:00

Sometimes I just wish to sleep.

Close my eyes to the world and collapse.

Lie down next to your body, bundle myself in your fragrance...

And just sleep.

No sex.

Just sleep together.

Chaste and innocent.

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Synapse

2010-06-26T14:16:00.006+02:00

Once upon a time she was cold and dense like the woods that nip off sunshine.

And then he crept in, untamed…like a savage creeper, penetrating through her.

Finito!

2010-06-25T15:32:00.007+02:00

The modest neurons in my head tell me not to do it, but I am shameless.

I want to fish for even more wishes…Hence, I am posting the news on my blog. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…I finished my PhD.

And yes, nothing can give you a myocardial infarction worse than the one you get while receiving your degree. I am glad I didn’t faint!

Living is an end unto itself.

2010-05-07T19:00:00.007+02:00

"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself."

-Self Pity , D. H. Lawrence, 1929

The girl returns

2010-04-11T14:35:00.014+02:00

So, the blog is finally emerging out of coma after 3 months. And in my book, that is long.

I submitted my PhD thesis last Friday. The text embellished with glossy pictures is a memento; a reminder of the weeks that slumped into months and months that broke into years, under my work bench.

It feels inexplicably good…I slept as if the Sun had disappeared, total solar eclipse! The dash-in and dish-out meals were kind of getting on my nerves for long, so I took good amount of time to put up a decent meal. Karaoke was fun too, I croaked till the neighbours found me agreeable. I started with a book yesterday and am already half way through it.

But amidst all the other stuff I did, I have no clue why I didn’t feel like writing anymore. I guess being away from the blog takes passivity to a new level. Either your thoughts become as outdated as embroidered denim or the ones bubbling inside your head in real time, fail to find meaningful expressions.

And yes, people enjoying your absence and selling flowers and cakes on your blog, is highly demoralizing as well!!
>>>>> “Send your good taste to celebration by delivering our mouthwatering cakes to Delhi and exotic flowers to Delhi and leave a cherished memory with them. Add zing to the special occasions of your acquaintances in Delhi by sending our fantastic flowers and tasty cakes. Please visit:www.delhiflowersgifts.com” ???????????

Nonetheless, doubtful I'd pull it off, I tried. And guess, it was worth it.

So here's three cheers for the blog, hell yeah..I am back :)

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Life is too short to be anything but happy :)

2010-01-31T19:27:00.000+01:00

This is for you Ma...Finally :)

2010-01-17T21:28:00.006+01:00

Alright..so this one of Ma's favourite bangla songs. I hope I have done justice to it considering,

1.That I have sung it with my "oh-not-so-nice-bangla"

2.The song is sung by the great Lata Mangeshkar.

The art of living, less understood...

2010-01-10T15:32:00.004+01:00

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Because...no matter what...Life is Fun :)

2010-01-09T23:10:00.005+01:00

In 2010, thou shalt:

2010-01-01T23:00:00.017+01:00

1. Prioritize amongst health, work and people.

2. Strictly stick to 1.

Photo courtesy:http://vi.sualize.us/

Booz Buddies??? I bet ;)

2009-12-28T14:56:00.005+01:00

Low and high..The law of life...

2009-12-26T17:05:00.006+01:00

"Life is not just one big high, it comes with it's lows too.
And what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.
Its like playing a game of scrabble. Join the bits and pieces. Someday, all of it will make sense."

I was going through one my old notebooks. Found it scribbled on the last page. Source, unknown.

The bitter-sweet life :)

2009-12-26T15:52:00.016+01:00

Three days of tandem "makkhi-maaroing" sessions in a doctor’s clinic can leave you somewhere between highly amused and supremely annoyed!!

Even if you are the sanest of all, madness may take its toll…especially when the doctor bombs you with such a “thought-provoking” question…"Hmm..so what do you think happened to your back?"

Amongst the trillions of barbed responses to the question rattling inside your head and an urgent fancy to yell “Whaaaaaaaaaaaatttt? Do you think I would be coming to you if I had known?”, you control your mouth from flip opening and barking.

After carrying out more tests than the NASA scientists would conduct to launch a space shuttle, all he had to say was “The blut (blood) looks gut (good). So, I don’t know”

“Wow…how bright is that?” I was speechless! I took the deepest exaggerated breath I could and left. Passive aggression..is still some aggression..isn’t it?

OMG, my head starts spinning to even think about the next visit. God..I seriously think the intelligent life on Earth is getting extinct. Anyhow...until I see him again, I am treating myself to the surprise Christmas goodies my very thoughtful room-mate has gifted me (Chocolates=Endorphins=may be Feel Good Factor)

BTW when I was a kid, chocolates used to mean only Cadbury. And whenever Cadbury pings inside my head, the advertisement that has the most recall value is this particular one. Ohhhhhh..I used to loooooooooove this girl!

Hmmm...someone said "Being sick might not be fun…but being spoiled surley is!" ;) So while I hog on the chocolates to test the “apparent high” the neurologists claim, you go and check out the video :)

A matter of options.

2009-12-20T13:03:00.014+01:00

I am the eldest of the three sisters.
I had my choices in life. I’m really glad that I did.
To make what I wanted out of myself. To exercise free spirit. To practice fierce independence. And to manage the chaos that followed when I abused the former two.

But thanks, someone reminded me yesterday that
“You are a woman at the end of the day!
Come what may, there are certain things which are out of your say.”
(I know that’s injurious poetry, but it rhymes, so come alongwith me for now)

Hmmm.actually there's no polite way to break this in, so I'll be downright direct.

Alright, so as a woman, what are the options I enjoy in life?
Did I/ or will I ever run;

1. An option of turning home midnight, piss drunk, sweaty after ceaseless puffing and mambo-jambo-ing? I am sure no one appreciates a woman who does that (Bahot “forward” hai!!) I am yet to meet a man, who thinks otherwise, not one who says he does.

2. An option of saying that all I know is turning on the stove in the kitchen? (“Whaaaaaaaaaat she doesn’t know how to cook???????”) Yes, because while being a man you were too busy preparing for your medical entrances, AIEEE, CAT etc etc, unfortunately I was writing those exams too. And fair enough, there were no grace marks for females who could demonstrate their expert culinary skills! So it wasn’t worth the hassle!

3. An option of expecting tea, breakfast, a packed lunch box and a dinner at the end of the day? So what if I am tired or I had a bad day or I stand a deadline. I am a woman. Didn’t my mom teach me how to multitask? (Funny enough, a distant cousin of mine used to shout “Chavanyaprash” at his breakfast table everyday, and his wife used to scoop out a spoonful for him, right in front of his mouth!)

4. An option of staying back late in the office for that one raise I could kill for? May be not. I don’t have to take my work thaaaaaaaaaat seriously, even if I receive the same pay cheque. And if need arises, I sure do always run an option of belittling my academic pursuits. I am a woman; I am raised that way (When the kids had to score good marks in the board exams, my aunt had to quit her job. Period. )

5. An option of confessing love? May be not.(Arre woh bhi aisi hai?) Kaisi hai bhai?? You know..“that kind” of easy women who do it. Because ‘she’ who asked one, may be asked too many..who knows?

6. An option of saying NO, to leave behind my parents, my siblings, and my home and even my name? (even if my surname runs 10 Km long)To let go of everything that I had. And gladly accept everything that belongs to him. Imagine how tough it would be wake up to a new him, an entirely new house, new people and may be a new country for some. A man would never know, because there are chances that he would never be asked to.

7. An option of asking? Remember..he is the only one I know in that new house? I am human and there are times when I may goof up or simply don’t understand him. (Yo..sometimes obvious hints don’t work!!!And what if I feel like chopping off the hair of his highly snooty cousin, or I am suppressing the urge to poke his nosy aunt right in her eye? Do I run the option to tell, to blow it off?) I am not sure. I am a woman, and good women don’t ask too many questions or manifest anger (wrongly labeled “mood swings”).

8. An option of bumping in to one of my old school friend (The friend in question may be a man and very much single).and chat away to glory over a cup of tea?( Naiii....kahin sasu ma ne dekh liya toh? Ya phir unhe achcha nahin laga toh?)

9. An option of raising my kid myself; walk out on a man who beats me black and blue because unfortunately he knows that God made him stronger physically.(And its deceitful to think that only gaon ke gawar do that. Well read, city bred people also very much do that!) And no matter how progressive the Indian society might be a divorced woman is still subjected to that “haaaawwwwww” eyes!

I guess I may scribble days and nights over this. And I am very sure there’s already a clan of “We hate her. Use pakad ke maaro” men somewhere in the making(I will not go for my morning walk tomorrow:P).But I am yet to get enough inspired in life, so as to practice and preach pro-feminism.

All I want to say is that God (I am randomly assuming God is a he! Please suit yourself and don’t run a debate over this) was not partial. Neither to men nor to women.

While he bestowed the gift of making babies to women, he made sure that it still was a team effort.

He bestowed man with bumper muscles to protect and woo his woman ;), fetch food (without thinking that he will use it to subjugate the opposite sex) and he made women emotionally stronger (without anticipating a well calculated exploitation of the same asset by her!)

So you see..WE acted super smart. We diced in the societal norms. Women are supposed to do this and that is a Man’s job. I mean except where nature sets in discretion, who are we to entitle each other with a given set of options?

So guys you can wash the dishes. Only girls would do it is no default setting!

And females. You can lift the boxes; drag the suitcases and stop crying and acting vulnerable to get your job done. That’s next to blackmailing. And it is pathetic!

P.S.
1.I think I am aware of the guy’s side of the story. But if you think I acted nasty. Please go ahead and enlighten me :)

2. I am not appreciative of excessive boozing, smoking, showing disrespect and walking out on a relationship. And it makes me feel proud that only women can combine marriage, children, and a career. Just that I think it’s unfair to tie the performance leash only on her.

If only I could stop the time...

2009-10-31T02:00:00.020+01:00

I had lived under this roof for months. Now it feels like home.

Ma is here :)

I look forward to coming home. It feels nice to know that someone is waiting for me and anticipates my return over a cup of tea. Someone who feels free to pamper me, forces me to eat more. Yeah, she thinks I look malnutritioned. And thanks to her massive Ma ki mamta, I already have a spare tyre in the making around my waist.

We go shopping together. Cook together. I am unlearning to eat straight out of the refrigerator and learning to heat up the food, put it on a plate and sit down to eat like a “decent human being”. We watch some really dumb-n-grumpy-old movies while eating, because she thinks Shashi Kapoor-then was sexier than Shahid Kapoor-now (But I strongly disagree!).

When her household chores are over, she sits down to spend her spare time with me, trying to catch up on things, from where I left. Acting up stories of our neighbors, my sisters, dialogue-to-dialogue, frame-on-frame!

When I hit the bed, the hot water bag and a tube of Moov ointment await me. The bed doesn’t feel so cold anymore. Everyday I rolly-polly in to her warm body until she warns me that she would kill me the next time I tickle her with my cold hands. And two minutes flat following the highly entertaining tickle session, she droops in to a horrendously funny snore.

The weekends which used to be extremely long seem to vanish now. My friends are having gala fun chatting with her, at my expense! Trust me if there was to be someone who is capable of embarrassing me to the core yet smoothly getting away with it, Ma would get my vote, hands down.There is just no end to the anecdotes she has collected over the years. The other day, she didn’t even blink once before narrating the incident of my wrap around skirt coming off mid-jump while I was jumping rope. So while there was a massive uproar in the crowd, I was left wide eyed and utterly shocked!

But life comes with bells and whistles. The merry making sessions are interrupted by some heated arguments too. Thanks to her unsuccessful attempts to discuss certain “very important issues” like marriage and all, and me not getting too amused by it, I am subjected to sudden explosions, sometimes.Although we’ve decided to continue with such engaging topics only once per week, it doesn’t seem to work at all!

My understanding of a lot of things has changed, unlike what Ma saw during my formative years. While people ponder on the profoundness of my “I am what I am; I feel how I feel; I will face life as it will come” ideology, Ma doesn’t find it widely representative. For her, it is way too progressive, way too intimidating. And standing at her end of the age spectrum, she warns me to deflate "My narcissistic bubble" before it bursts abruptly. So, we have strong differences in opinion and we argue, but we make up soon enough. For she comes first. She made me. And any given day I would sacrifice my voice, in favor of our simple, happy, goofy and silly times together.

Deep inside me,I know the clock is ticking away and every moment that I am spending together with her is never going to come back. And while she is snoring away to glory in the background right now, I really really wish the time would stop, right here, right now.

Better left unsaid.

2009-09-30T22:43:00.020+02:00

How does one deal with those “Sita Mayya” moments…You know what I mean?? Moments when you want the earth to just rip open and swallow you right away!

Moments when someone hits you “bannnnnnnnng”….just on target and “The Argumentative You” who loves to convince people otherwise, avoids a debate.

The following remark from someone today, left me helplessly churning my teeth to dust!

XYZ: "You know what? Sometimes the chirpiness in your voice only seems to accentuate the sadness inside. So, don’t laugh”

And all I could manage was saying aloud to myself "Goddammit! Let it go…just breath easy"

XYZ, I didn’t ask you then, but now I want to, really, even if I am not allowed to, “What do you expect me to do?”

Feel morose about the slow, gradual decline of my health?

Or look around my empty house and think how easy it was for some people to lay claim on all the memories, commodify them and just walk out of my life? Or continue to feel sad about others who are still doing pretty much the same and are thinking that Iam stupid enough not to notice.

Or cry over the fact that everyday I kill myself working for someone who doesn’t pay me an ounce of respect for that?

Or get mad at the fact that no amount of planning helps me because I am stuck up with a plain dumb luck!

Or brood over things that shouldn’t have happened but happened anyhow or those which should have happened but didn’t or never will.

Or lament over today’s conversation, where I had to give up arguing even with a dimwit-weirdo like you, beacuse for a change, he picked on the right wounds.

We all and even I may have a definite set of reasons to complain, but does it actually help even a bit to improve the situation? And this very thought, outweighs the grieving action, each time.

I am not cheating, stealing, lying or hurting anyone. I am just not telling everything. Even if I am in pain or I am sad, I don’t admit it. And it’s almost always as simple as that.

I don’t want to unveil my feelings for public consideration, where I face the prospect of being judged and possibly afflicted. When people whom I trusted and poured out even the "ugly me" didn’t abstain from persecuting me because of my weakness, I would rather choose to maintain my integrity by leaving certain things unsaid and unexpressed.

I know the logic sounds a bit screwed up and the façade doesn’t really help in making you feel any stronger inside, every time. But all that chirpiness does add some survival value :)

I guess you will have to agree with me now, unless you have something else to challenge my arguments, tomorrow ?? ;)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As on 1.10.2009 :

I find this post highly stupid now!!
I said it all.
But won't delete or modify it for the simple reason that it was still ME, even if it isn't how I want myself to be, today or thereafter.

The fleeting glimpse

2009-09-27T12:33:00.012+02:00

The Best Thing happening to you in a day:

Neighbour’s two year old kid peeps at you, hiding his face behind the door.

You turn back, unwarranted. You smile.

He breaks into a shy smile and a tiny, croaking “hello” and disappears.

As I unlock my door, I adore his world of oblivion and mourn the death of my innocence.

The Bong Gluttony

2009-09-24T00:22:00.028+02:00

I am a Delhi-Bong cross. And the thing of utmost interest to me is the food part of it.

While I can kill for the aloo tikkis, papdi chaat and gol gappe , I equally adore my jhal muri, beguni and mishti doi :)

Over the years Ma had to modulate her cooking to suit Papa’s North Indian palate and cater the sisters (“hopeless” as Ma calls them) who have inherited dad’s tangri-kebab taste buds.

So the only one who would pig out on her “bangla ranna” in the house was Me. And till date simple home cooked Bengali food is my comfort food.

One thing that I absolutely drool over is my Ma’s Palong shaker chorchori (Spinach with Mix veggies; and sister says it smells exactly like “pocha” (mop for cleaning floor!!!)

Alright..let me cut it short. I am basically sick of eating pseudo dinners. So after promising myself some good (Bengali) food today,I dashed down the grocery store, picked up the insipid frozen spinach, fresh looking yet tasteless vegetables, compromise "Indische" spices and dished up all in to a “fake-chorchori”, which tasted..welll...okieeee.

I wonder what was missing?
1. Was it Ma’s bangles clinking on the shil (stone grinder) while making the aada-dhone-launka bata (ginger-coriander-green chilly paste)?

2. Was it the mild frangrance of panch phoron ( a typical bengali fusion spice with five ingredients) mellowing down the pungency of mustard oil?

3.Ma?

4. Or the fact that only both of us would eat it and enjoy it ?(Big-fat thenga to the sisters!!)

Never mind...

Now the only question other than why one can never emulate mums, is who’s gonna finish the jumbo, langar type portion size I have cooked????

Photo courtesy: chefsumantaskitchen.blogspot.com

We are addicted. Me and the "Desperate Housefly"

2009-09-19T12:00:00.015+02:00

So,
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Let me introduce you to my latest obsession ----->>

I have been hooked on to it and I guess so is Mr. Bzzzzzzz, my pet pest.

He (considering his unconditional affection for me , I am sure "it" is a "he" and that is how he shall be addressed) is a housefly, who is been keeping me some good company since the last few days, especially during the nights ;)

After the initial attempts of swatting him away from fluttering all over me, I gave in.

With his undaunted "zzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin", I think he adds on to the melody.

Awwwwww....We are such a musical twosome...no ??

A man of many desires.

2009-09-14T00:08:00.005+02:00

Blind seeks eyes
Limp chases a step
Mute craves to break the silence
And deaf wishes to follow the harmony of the chimes.

Thirsty awaits the rain
Empty stomach aches for food
Wealthy is pinned on to the riches
And poor dreams of the filthy shekels.

Innocent beseeches justice
Slave wrenches freedom
Helpless is ravenous for power
And the strong hunts the weak.

Nomad wanders for a home
Lost scours for a destination
Solitary calls for another soul
And unrequited love seeks consent.

Virgin yearns for communion
Spinster desires a companion
Widowed pines for a spouse
And an empty womb longs to bear the fruit.

Dreamless is in search of sleep
Honesty twinges for truth
Broken strings twitch for a melody.
And the dying prays for life.

In search of the unsearchable,
Running behind what’s beyond our chase,
Asking for what’s always denied
Is Man.
“A man of many desires...”

Thank You

2009-09-12T00:42:00.009+02:00

I always persuaded myself not to harbor any non-realistic anticipations from people.
To foist others with a set of expectations, that one or none out of million people may be able to reach, is not an optimistic statistics.
But strange as it may sound, sometimes people you have hardly known or you least expected reach out to you so deeply, that you face difficulty in even expressing how thankful you are to them.

There was a note on my work bench today. I think I know who kept it.

“The road is hard and love softens it.
Love yourself.
Know yourself and understand your value.
Be good to yourself, please.”

P.S.More than what you did, I will always acknowledge when and how you did it.
It was still painful, but for a change, I was "happily in pain" today :)
Thank You.

Can't get it out of my head!

2009-09-05T11:56:00.010+02:00

I guess the only functional key on my iPod these days is <<back<<

I have listened to this song, non-stop, for roughly 100 times . And I'm sure I will play it a gazillion times more!

Call that usual, if not normal with me. I listen to a song. Get hooked on to something. And then listen to it endlessly in a row, until I get tired of it!

I have been singing in my sleep. Got to find something else, soon :)

Mango Mood

2009-09-05T01:44:00.012+02:00

Kairi with haldi drying in the sun (Never making it to achaar bottles though....but disappearing somewhere in between ;) )

Tok Dal-Bhaat for lunch.

Aampapad (Black waala with lots of sadak chaap kala namak!)

Thanda..thanda Aam Panna on a hot afternoon

A glass of mango Lassi ...Wait..make it two :)

Mango Rasna in milk..churned with buckets of ice!

Vadilal's Mango Icecream. Heaven.

The air filled with mangoes...Dasehri, Langda , Chausa, Alphonso...The more, the merrier :)

Sigh...But with only one stupid variety of mango in Germany all that sounds ambitious:(

Beat this..I hid the damn mango in my box of rice, aate ka dabba ..and what not..even under my quilt...Forgot it for almost one month over the shelf too ... but man...it just refused to ripe!!!

Never mind..I’m still in a Mango Mood, as always :)

X & Y

2009-08-26T21:28:00.003+02:00

P for Paranthas

2009-08-24T21:40:00.003+02:00

All this salad munching makes me feel like a super-retarted cow chewing cud!

Right now my hungry neurons are hallucinating a pile of Aloo-parantha's (Hmmm.. scratch that, make it, ANY paranthas!) and Gurdware waala "Kada Prasad".

Knock Knock..Reality check:

You stupid female! Unless you want to spend the better part of your night cleaning the drool off your laptop, close your mouth!!

AND stop browsing the pictures of "paranthas"...right now!!

When the going gets tough, the tough gets going :)

2009-08-20T00:01:00.016+02:00

Beware! You may or rather will encounter some scientific terms during the length of the post. If you are not interested or you don’t get it, simply pass off as blah..blah..blah :)

I didn’t know how bad it was getting.
Until a few days ago Luis imitated me or better, my limping gate.
(Someone he finds otherwise impossible to impersonate.
AND uno momento dude, NO dal for you in future !!!)

The abiding memories of sitting in the doctor’s clinic, alone, waiting to be examined, and finally with no improvement, has left me sadly scarred. So I don’t fancy myself doing it anymore, even if I have to painfully cry myself to sleep.

Lately there was a long lasting feud between "The pain" vs. “Me”. And “Me” finally gave in today.
I went to the doctor.
As usual, it was kind of odd for the old grannies and grandpas in the clinic to find company with me, as much as it was for me to place myself with people who had weathered far beyond years. But I found some happy faces, and it was good.

Now, there’s good news and a bad news. Let me hurl the bad one later.

The good news is that the doctor was uber nice. (Yeayyyyy…finally!) And she could speak English (Double yeayyyyyyyy!! )

Her hands were so warm and comforting that the moment she started the physiotherapy, I had tears in my eyes. Call me nuts, if you wish to...its okieeee. Because I know, its indiscernible for others what a healing touch does to you, when you have forgot how it feels without waking up with pain and sleeping without it.

For instance, people esp. my colleagues; often tell me that I “look” almost fine. Ta-daaaaaaaaaa, I look because I want to. All these years it has taken a lot of patient questioning on my part, to accept the inescapable and remind myself that Iam not unloved by God.
And really rough days are tamed with what I call the kill-pills. They kill the pain as well as your tummy. Nonetheless, they are good enough to camouflage the red-eyed silence.

Now, the bad news.

Firstly, the doctor said that I was as stiff as a stick, (and initially I thought she was talking about my head!) But I was enlightened soon enough. Personally, she thought that the harmony between my bones and the back muscles was as good as some crazy pebbles loosely stuffed inside a sac!

Secondly, to circumvent the arthritic pain in my sacroiliac joint (The joint between the base of the spine and the pelvis) while walking, sitting, sleeping etc, I am giving way to an absurd S shaped spinal curvature (at an angle which helps me in gliding / dragging myself in way that hurts least). Consequently, I am progressing in to something called Adult Idiopathic Scoliosis.

I thought she was talking all Greek, until she asked if I suffered from debilitating musculoskeletal pain and nerve impingement in my upper extremities in addition to my lower body. The answer was a big fat YES. (And come to think of it, I always cracked up thinking, it was “Scientist’s-Chronic-Fatigue- -Syndrome” !!hahahahahaha)

The ‘problem” if not attended well in time, which means taking a few days off (Doc…are you kidding??) and avoid lifting heavy stuff (People who have lifted JA-10 Beckman centrifuge rotors know exactly what I am talking about), going easy on work (I have started with the 3rd year of my PhD and there is surely NO escape. I want my degree.) , I might suffer from associated degenerative disorders (Well..I have been stoned with the facts long ago, when I visited my first doctor. And I know :))

In principle, I think the doctor knows what’s wrong and what’s getting worse each passing day. But unfortunately what she doesn’t know is that I cannot let go of what I am doing right now. She doesn’t know what I am here for. She doesn’t know what all this it means to me. And it’s just not another degree.

Lance Armstrong faced less than 50 % survival chances once. While battling against metastasis, where the cancer spread to almost every other organ of his body, he said that “Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

And I am not quitting. Even if I am limping. Even if it hurts. Period.

P.S. Lately people are very very inquisitive regarding my medical condition for obvious reasons ( They ask me questions like aapko polio bachpan se tha?? Hahahahaha..To save time, I can just say read my blog. Pssss..psss.. that’s a smartass attempt to increase the all time dipping low readership of my blog ;) )

The "good" in a goodbye

2009-08-08T22:25:00.006+02:00

I always saw myself saying “goodbyes” more often than “hellos”.
Someone always left.
And sometimes it did get old answering the question “Did that hurt?” to myself. Because, it did.

August called for yet another string of adieu moments.

Ujala finished her doctoral thesis and went back to India for good. Anand shifted his base to UK. Annika, Holger and Steffi, who have been much more than just lab technicians to me, will be leaving soon too.

They say love and friendship is intensified by absence. But I haven’t matured enough in life until now, to assimilate how much of this thought holds true.

In fact, with time, the cluster of people I held on to became smaller and smaller. Some people got separated by physical distance, some by time and some by emotions.

It’s funny, but there were people with whom I played practically every single day but later didn’t see them for over a decade. And when I eventually did, we had grown so different from each other that ensuing friendship purely on mutual acceptance, without judging each other would have been difficult. Hence, we let go.

And some people just drifted apart, even in close proximity. So much so, that even if I tried picking up from where we left, eventually I had to recoil. For how long can one sustain a conversation with monologues?

But then I have friends with whom I have been together since I was one digit old. And I’m so glad that they are stupid enough to still put up with me ;)

Everyone who left lately was of some emotional significance to me. And as much as their presence made a difference in my life, so will their absence.

My partial progression from a highly volatile female to someone who has muted herself to the noise outside is all thanks to Ujala. Yes, I somewhat owe this to you. And Iam still trying my best to let go of the “Let me rip you” fleeting moment I face every now and then :)

Anand, I can’t thank you any less either. With all those honest exchange of opinions and heated arguments, you made me realize that there are umpteen ways of looking at life and not just me and my ways. To be candid, it was always hard to argue with someone who was so perfectly content with himself no matter what label you were to tape on his back :)

Both you guys pulled me out of my forced solitary confinement; a time when all my thoughts defied logic and consequently I was at my weirdest.

Annika, hugging you goodbye was painful. And so will be the case with Holger and Steffi. We clicked beyond colour, race, language and culture. Lab will never be the same without you all. And trust me; I will be always glad that I came to Germany and I met you guys, even if it was for a brief moment.

While closing this all I want to say is that the past gets subsided in some corner of your memory shelf. And may be something else even takes its place in due course of time.

People leave. And eventually the voices fade and the faces blur. There is no bailout.
But we always remember how we felt with them, at some point of time in our life.
And you all made me feel good.

Take care.

Love.

AB

"That" Feeling..

2009-08-08T12:35:00.012+02:00

After watching a stupid-stupid movie until 3am and 5 hours of snoozing, I woke up to yet another Saturday.

So??

Nothing. I just wanted to maaro a grand crib that I really miss that “I’m home” feeling, especially on the weekends. And thought the prologue would make it sound a little less of a whine ;)

Well..It’s hard to explain it, but its been really long since I had“that” feeling. You know what I mean?

Something like dunking your face in to the heavenly Pav Bhaaji for breakfast while reading the cheap filmi section of the newspaper. I’m talking about that “Screw-the-deadlines-Duniya-gayi- bhand-main-Let-me-eat-my-Pav-Bhaaji-Thank you” type total bliss.

Being alone is a way of life and may be you are strong enough to live it. BUT once in a while it’s nice to be reminded that you may exploit the privilege of being a daughter, a child. Bole toh, take few things for granted.

I wonder if it's always the big things in life that’s worth the sweat. Sometimes it's the “small things” that's worth living for too.

And may be “Feeling Alive; Being Happy” is “The” feeling I’m talking about.

Mote..Happy Birthday :)

2009-08-04T23:32:00.005+02:00

If Mother Nature could jhelo you for 26 long years, I guess I have to forgive you for messing up with my head for the past 16 !

I am so very glad that God bestowed you with 1 more year, so that you can continue to tolerate me calling you vile names, act dumb and snigger, just to make me feel good at the end of the day :)

Jerk, Happy Birthday!

Bless you.

20 things that bother people about me

2009-07-26T12:07:00.076+02:00

1. My new roomie is a Man.
So?
A MAN and A WOMAN can live independently in the same house and without sleeping with each other.

2. I insist doing things on my own.
Yes, it’s painful for the “limping woman” to chase the bus with those jumbo bags. But being independent makes it hurt less :)

Nonetheless, I deeply appreciate your concern. Thank you.
When in need, I will ask.

3. I work all the time.
I don’t get sleepless nights thinking how committed people are towards their work.
But I should do justice to the bread and butter I earn. Cold and hard as it may sound, I use no logic on myself, other than this. And I think its bloody fair.

4. I don’t booze or smoke.
I never took my freedom for granted. We were to follow the rules at home. No staying up late at night, no pocket money and only good grades. Boozing and smoking is just another way of life. If you think it’s liberating, good. But if you assume I ‘m “tied down” by not doing so, I surely beg to differ.

5. Eeeeeeeks, I carry a tattoo.
You needn’t be a slut to carry one. Live a little!
I love that piece of art on my skin. So please stop being judgemental about it.

6. I don’t watch romantic stuff / movies.
Rombaaaaaaa true! It's not that I am incapable of loving people, just that I don’t fancy it onscreen.

*Sidenote for friends: For heaven’s sake, stop being a bloke by canceling your plans of watching one if I am not turning up. Please go ahead right-away.
I would love the fact that you enjoyed it with/without me. And I’m even game listening to what made it enjoyable for you, just that I can’t bring myself to enjoy watching it.

7.I have more guy friends.
If I align my memories with the facts, yes, I always did.
Now, if I identified more with people who were less judgemental and least fussy but they happened to be men, am I subjective to Indian Penal Code Dafaa 302..nahi na?

8.I have not seen a single episode of “Friends”.
How big a problem is that?
I don’t enjoy sitcoms. I would rather read.

And yes, I acknowledge the fact that people are different.

9. I don’t do girly stuff.
Wrong.
I can get excessively ornamented as a female.
Coochie-cooing babies on the streets, awwwwwing the old couple walking hand in hand, buying a huge bunch of lilies for myself etc etc and etc.

It’s normal for a guy to do the guy things and for a girl to do the girly things. And I think I’m a normal girl capable of doing the normal stuff, but not at the cost of public embarrassment for others.

10. I don’t care what my friends do.
I very much do. But I don’t ask them to chalk out their schedule for me, just because"I AM" their friend.

I don’t fret over that possible Boy’s night out where my guy friends would go bowling and boozing without tagging me along. And likewise I don’t shudder if the girls prefer to do some window shopping without me. One can savour every bite of their solitary good times, without owing me an explanation!
Anyyyyyyyyyyhow, I think I got plenty of schemes to make up for the revenge later!

11. I am not emotional.
With time, I have become less expressive of my emotions. I translate them in to actions.

12. I am hell of a loud mouth.
If simple + straight= Insensitive speech, then, sorry, it just is.
I loose the conversation, the moment the other person morphs into a smooth talker.

Don’t tell me, what you think I would love to hear.
Beat redundancy. For a change, talk real.

13. I can’t read minds/ contemplate what people think.
Abbe yaar, hum insaan log ek electron ka position to theek se predict nahi kar sakte ...and you want me read your mind and predict what you might be thinking?? Yeh toh too much hai apun ke liye.

If your own thoughts are entangled inside your head, and you yourself are incapable of legibly manifesting it, then how would they make way to my brain?

Clarity of thoughts is a turn on.

14. I am sarcastic.
No. Unfortunately I don’t exercise that weapon too often, for the simple reason that people are not bright enough to get it!
I appreciate wit but at the same time I believe it shouldn’t be used as a license to lash out people.
And if unknowingly I get rude with you, stop me right away. Everyone deserves that right.

15. I don’t talk when I’m angry.
Generally I laugh it out. Otherwise, it gets ugly. Yes, I am capable of spitting venom.
The history of making some of the most awful speeches while I was angry, makes me least proud. And I don’t want to loose the lesson, again.

16. I throw fits when people pay for me.
I think I have a reasonable explanation in support of the cause. If the “why” intrigues you, read this : http://thepragmaticpencil.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-06-01T00%3A26%3A00%2B02%3A00&max-results=7
If you disagree, don’t bother.

17. I cuss.
HaHa. Oh yeah, I do.
But I would never utter teri maa kiiiiiiiiiiii types mote-mote golden shabds in front of your parents or the elderly. But if you happen to be one of my bum-chums, you will be subjected to some jackass behavior and with time you will get used to the expletives.

18.I laugh.
No. I laugh a lot.

You see, it’s simple.
Life is nasty. There are times when I just don’t know how to cope, and then I pretend to be somebody who can cope. At that time I laugh and think, “Alright… I am laughing; therefore things must be still under control”

There is no glory in sticking out like a sore thumb. The civilisation doesn’t cease for you.
The day I stop laughing, I will be dead. And I want to live.

19.I can kill for my family and friends.
That’s an amazing foresight.
God bless the smart people. They are right.

20.I write crap on my blog.
And I get back to folding the dried laundry and eating peanuts.

P.S.1: "You" refers to people in general and no one in particular.
P.S.2: I ain't justyfing. I am introspecting :). And yeah I am a bit pissed off :(
P.S.3: Man...looks like I am mightily bothersome, the list ran quite a length!

Nautanki unlimited!

2009-07-22T13:46:00.006+02:00

"Happy Solar Eclipse!!!! hehehe..........this one was really rare but hum itne aalsi hain, poori duniya 6 baje jag gayee to watch the eclipse, aur hum A.C. ki hawa mein zzzzzzzzzzz kar rahen the!!!!"

There are moments of failure.
But they don’t clam me up.
To know that I have some big time drama queens sitting back home, feels like bliss :)

Food Feud

2009-07-20T16:57:00.012+02:00

"When two people fight over food, the third one makes quite a job of it!"

More-n-Less

2009-07-19T23:26:00.003+02:00

"More isn't always better; sometimes it's just more."
-Sabrina Fairchild (Julia Ormond) in Sabrina.

Lab Khichdi

2009-07-17T12:54:00.022+02:00

For what I'm subjected to in the lab, I should better claim some money from the research funds. Else, how am I supposed to afford the Rehabilitation costs?? Bolo..bolo??

Please Read on..

1. The lab meetings are sometimes interesting but boring-n-never-ending, otherwise. So while we were lost, sleepy and hungry, our breather moment arrived. The last presentation had some supercool stuff..bole toh ekdum dhinchaak kinds!

There was this picture of a toilet brush hanging over a dirty pot in the Men’s Loo. All the anonymous, dirty fellas were asked to use THE hi-tech instrument after their bowel has messed up with the bowl! Man….I was howling!!

2. One of the new instruments in the lab includes this humungous mice faeces and urine collector, proudly owned by the Metabolic Group. So you see, God’s food is never wasted. All the crap goes into science.

3. Our lab jobs were being assigned and a particular chapta (Those who don’t get it (Damn I have such unimaginative readership!), mail me n I will tell you what or rather who a chapta is.) was given the responsibility of First-Aid***…Hmm..now people who know him would only understand the severity of this. He is the kind of guy who is capable of giving a mouse tremors over a unscalable Richter scale, apparently, killing the mouse of a heart attack, before actually getting to kill it. (If looks could kill? Yes sometimes they do!)

The golden history of the first mice dying of a brain haemorrhage and capillary obstruction, the moment he grabbed it, remains..well..golden. So, First Aid?? Thanks. But No Thanks. I would rather kill myself before doing that!

***And as a matter of fact, I laughed the loudest. Reallllllly control nai hota, and I should definitely do something about it. Suggestions?

4. One of the Lab technicians (of the sweetest ones) asked me on my birthday,
Tech: “So, Aaaapitaaaaaaa, how many years did you make?”
Me: “Errrrrr..What did I make??”
Pause.
Action replay.
Me: (Arpita? Shut Up and Don’t you dare laugh)
Me making Mission Impossible, somewhat possible, “I make 24 years :) ”

5. One of the chaptas in our lab is this very “gol” that mom’s could actually teach their kids shapes on seeing him ...“Beta, woh dekho..“round” bolo”. So “kaddu” as we call him, works always in an almost leg-split position (scientifically-n-socially a bit compromising). I couldn’t resist myself asking him once, why? And he proudly replied, makes him think “good” (I think he meant better). While he blinked and got back to work in his
la grande position, I was rolling in the aisles.

6. Me and Luis working. Suddenly,
Luis: "Arpaaaaaa?"
Me: "Yep"
Luis: "Do I look fat?"
And I think I laughed my loudest in this year.

Sexy?

2009-07-13T03:51:00.009+02:00

“Come on, what do you think makes you women sexy….huh?”

For a guy who uses words as ridiculous as “phantasmagorical” while composing a sentence, that should have come easy. ***

Now dude, it’s difficult to put down in words what I may find sexy in a man, and you are asking about women??? In principle it’s a very subjective question and it’s sad that I need to stick my oar in! But since you sincerely asked for it, hope I do justice :)

Sexy is elusive.

It can be an uninhibited laugh or a silent whisper.

It can be a casual glance or a mystical smile.

It can be pair of unknown eyes in the crowd or a clutter of heels on a polished floor.

Short-n-Tall, Chubby-n-Skinny, Young-n-Old, Black-n-White; anything and everything that lies in between. It can be sexy or not.

What makes it so is the mystery it exudes.The uniqueness it possesses.

Sexy is attitude.

Sexy is being yourself.

The comfort in your own skin.

A woman’s repository of sensuality is right inside her head.

P.S. ***
1. Ab kya kare humri angreji tanik kamjor hai ! Aap ke bhaari-bharkam sabdwa hamarko samajh nahi aawat hain.
2. Now ee hai tohar liye ispesal translesan: I’m linguistically stunted when it comes to your American sitcom comedy. So, it would be highly appreciated if you please don't exend it to mundane conversations with me ((us); yeah we have a consensus out here...Yeayyyyyyyyyy!). Thank You.

P.P.S. Tanuj, for obvious reasons the poem had to be heaved up from your comment section. Hope I have your consent :)

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

2009-07-12T12:34:00.012+02:00

Damn..I’m so freaking tired I could possibly sleep for the next 24 hours…neat!

In fact, I really had to keep pinching myself while coming to the Uni today, else I could have easily made an involuntary (and unconscious) trip of entire Ulm..(and with that muchchad-buddha-sadooo driver giving me the only company..errrrr....it would not have been such a romantic experience after all!)

Every bone in my body is giving a masala-papad-like cracking sound (No kidding!) and my neck is the worst; so much so that I would choose to be beheaded if only it could stop the pain!

This is exacccccctly how I am feeling right now :( :( ------>

The Pursuit of Happyness

2009-07-10T19:03:00.000+02:00

"It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what.How did he know that?"

-Christopher Gardner (Will Smith) in "The Pursuit of Happyness"

Pakoda?

2009-07-09T23:52:00.000+02:00

Jerk (A nosy colleague of mine I would love to do without :/ ): "Where are you going?"

Me: "Mouse room"

Jerk: "Why?"

Me: "To make mouse pakoda."

Jerk: "What’s paaakoooodaaaaa? Is it like daaael? (Well..he is referring to "daal"...And only God knows how I should spell what he actually calls it!)

Me: (Disappear before I kill you!!): "No. It’s that round-yellow-oily thing I made and you hogged on the other day. Just that mouse pakoda has a tail hanging out. Easy to fry!"

I need it or I am used to it?

2009-07-05T19:01:00.000+02:00

With an extremely busy week bygone, I promised myself not to galti-se-bhi-bhatko in the lab today. But here I am, again!

Although, I had the choice of saying a big NO, but still I didn’t.

I wonder why? Is it that I really love doing what I have been doing or that I have done it too often for it to become a habit now?

In principle I think we humans are plain weird. Just like getting up, brushing teeth, drinking a cup of tea, we thread in certain things like an everyday ritual, without knowing why? And with each passing day, it becomes too difficult to tear the “I’m Habituated to this” tag off those things; or worse people.

Having lived together for years, that “being together” sometimes oppresses everything else. So much so, that we fail to acknowledge the primary reason for being together at all! Probably because we are too scared that one fine day we might just wake up alone, something we are not used to. A huge emotional investment in that person makes us too empty to just let go off our “yesterday”, like a chapter in a history textbook. Hence we plod on , just like a habit.

In retrospect I have realised that the above reasoning is bad, even if the reasons are compelling enough. It’s like seeking approval for your own existence from someone else.

Hence, sometimes we have to walk past that very thing or give oneself a bit of time without that person. Even if we are afraid, we might still have the strength to overcome the momentary absence of it. And trust me, at times; not having that something or someone in our life can be really unveiling. We eventually discover if it’s worth running after what we have been running for, all this while :)

I mean, we may still end up with the same person or doing the same thing, but at least we know why and how badly we couldn’t have done without him/her/it. And guess, nothing in life is agreeable without this thought well in place.

When I left India, I thought I would not be able to breath without my family (literally, of course!). Not having them around makes me believe I was correct. I know now, that they weren’t just a habit. And I could not have realised my set of reasons, some known while others unknown, had my folks been always right in front of me .

Well..that brings me to somehow closing the loop I started initially. I think Iam not habituated to work; I feel the need to work, to get back to them soon enough :)

I oblige

2009-06-29T20:03:00.001+02:00

Sometimes the clock refuses to move and life gets still..almost.

You shout in to the air, but it seems like vacuum. The sound is lost.

“Baby, enough…push yourself back to work now” , says the brain.

"Yeah..yeah.."And I oblige.

Take home message for the day:
Life is an extravagant comedy. To have fun, you better keep the melodrama simple and short :)

Tuesday’s with Morrie

2009-06-13T11:24:00.000+02:00

There are books you read to kill time. And there are books you are glad you read, before time kills you!

Tuesday’s with Morrie, makes way to the latter league.

I don’t remember when was the last time something had such a profound effect on me? I was prompted to tears while going through the last few pages (Yes..freaking out a bunch of passengers in an extremely crowded bus, who were more rattled by my unembarrassed crying than probabably I was!!!)

Not just a couple of pages fastened together; it’s an anthology of life, death and all that happens to you in between.

The beauty of the read is just the simplicity of it, be it portrayal of something as poignant as death or as never ceasing as life. By the time you reach the end of the book you (I) realise that you have practically spent almost all your life beneath a false veneer of making a rational judgement - chasing and doing the things you wrongly thought were important!

Those on a literary diet, trust me , one needs to be chastised on missing out on this. It is a semi-mandatory read! Alright, I might go on and on, but any description might not do justice. Just read the book.

And for the starters I am passing my favourite excerpts. Intended readers, skew away, might be a spoiler!

"Love or Perish."

"When you learn how to die, you learn how to live."

"The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in."

"If you hold back on the emotions..if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them.. you're too busy being afraid."

"We...need to forgive ourselves...For all the things we didn't do. All the things we should have done. You can't get stuck on the regrets of what should have happened."

"In the beginning of life, when we were infants, we need others to survive, right? And at the end of life, when you get like me, you need others to survive, right? But here's the secret: in between, we need others as well."

"You have to find what's good and true and beautiful in your life as it is now. Looking back makes you competitive. And, age is not a competitive issue."

"...if you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down on you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off for people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to float equally between everyone."

"The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it."

...there are a few rules I know to be true about love and marriage: If you don't respect the other person, you're gonna have a lot of trouble. If you don't know how to compromise, you're gonna have a lot of trouble. If you can't talk openly about what goes on between you, you're gonna have a lot of trouble. And if you don't have a common set of values in life, you're gonna have a lot of trouble. Your values must be alike."

"Aging is not just decay...It's growth."

"Death ends a life, not a relationship."

"...love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone."

"...we've had thirty-five years of friendship. You don't need speech or hearing to feel that."

“You see, . . . you closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too — even when you're in the dark. Even when you're falling…"

P.S: BTW almost half of my copy is bookmarked :)

Something reverberates, time and again.....

2009-06-10T15:12:00.000+02:00

"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not." Kurt Cobain

Hate is too big a word!

2009-06-06T11:35:00.000+02:00

A few days ago, I had one of my “slapped on the face” moments.

“Silence thou uncouth tongue” is the ideology I’m following these days but unfortunately, there are times and there are people, on whom you just can stop aiming those outrageous zings and arrows, of the verbal sort! And need I mention the history of writing people off? I don’t think so! Hahahahahahaha

So here I was, snapping at a particular someone and signing off with a hope (yeah..hope..the level of detest is that veryyyyyyyy high!), that this final note would shun him for good.

But God makes sure that you don’t impose virtues and vices on the humankind, and that it is only his bloody business! So, as unexpected as it could get, the person got back and suggested to conciliate.

Now, it will take me some time to bring myself to like that person. I know it’s very bad. But I’m human! It takes some time and I’m slow. But I sincerely appreciate the gesture, even more because it served as an impetus for me to get rid of my own biased set of opinions. Thanks.

A matter of age.

2009-06-01T00:26:00.000+02:00

"At times of opposed school of thoughts, always remember this. Blue and Red are both beautiful colors. If I say I like Blue, doesn’t mean I hate Red. Just that at that point of time Blue is the choice I have made, without treating the color Red with contempt. "

"Decisions in life are simple, provided you don’t seek consent in others for all your actions and emotions. Yeah..requires hell lot of self-assessment and even more self-conviction, but we all have to shoulder responsibility at some point of time in our life. Don’t we?"

"Whenever you are lost and search for a purpose in life there, just look back once. Your absence makes an unexplainable void in the lives of some people back home…your people. Please don’t defeat the purpose."

That’s my younger sister speaking :)

She doesn’t have answers to all my questions, all the time; but she always listens and that suffices. And there times, we are perfectly comfortable even without speech.

Maturity isn’t a matter of age. Bits of life and pieces of experience is the route, may be.

"I'm the girl!!"

2009-05-24T20:36:00.002+02:00

It’s tough to put up with all those dense heads on this planet, but sure I’m fortunate enough to be surrounded by people smarter than me too :)

And one of those smarter lots includes this colleague of mine. It’s a darn pleasure speaking with her. Not that we don’t have conflicting opinions but she is mature and intelligent enough to put forth them with the most convincing set of arguments. Hmm…some days being an exception, if I may add.

A few days ago, we ended up discussing something we had not discussed as yet and as it turned out we had absolutely orthogonal views regarding it. “Do you expect a man to pay when you go out with him?”

Her take was YES. Mine was NO.

While she found it gentlemanly and appreciated it as an act of chivalry, I had something else to say. To me it was no good a reason, but a bad array of arguments! I mean there’s absolutely no relevant correlation between being a gentleman and paying the bills! A person might as well show affection and respect by striking a good conversation , listening to my ideas and expressing his own without an inhibition.

Now girls… Come On!!! Just think about it. You expect a man to treat you equal. Give you freedom of speech, financial independence, fair choices in life. And then you foist a guy to dish out money on a date because traditionally it’s always been that way! Talk about double standards. Why one has to carry “I’m the girl” baggage all the time?? One has to favour unbiased rights for one and all, including men!

Alright let’s imagine a situation where in I speak for myself. If I go out with a man for the first time and he insists strongly to pay, I would let him. But next time, we split the cheque. Simple.

Reeling in the old adage “Man earns the bread-butter” would tantamount to all those supposedly progressive females studying and working for nothing…right?? And what if the guy has just begun to earn, running a debt or in worst case still searching for a job, while you have a sound career for yourself?

Make it easy. Easy enough for him to enjoy your time and companionship without carrying the burden of paying for it every time you meet :)

This might be a very trivial issue which may not even deserve this bit of a space. But it surely reflects that we haven’t broken through the popular or better, rudimentary set of rules when it comes to A MAN or A WOMAN.

I guess some of the females would definitely be pretty cross with me and would definitely tsk –tsk on this, but I suppose not one and all have to conform to the usual expectations of society …right? If an unfair tradition was made long ago and was handled down faithfully over centuries, it doesn’t make it any fair. It remains as unjust as it originally was.

So if you disagree..call me what you want, just spell the word right.

One weak moment, is all it takes...

2009-05-21T16:29:00.001+02:00

Luis: "Today Mother Nature taught me a very important lesson."

Arpaaaaaa: "What?"

Luis: "That it takes only one weak moment for you to give in and someone else to eat you up..alive!"

Arpaaaaaa (Eyes rolling..not used to such profound statements coming from Luis): "Hmm….Why? What happened?"

Luis: "I was sitting in the bus. A bird was trying to feed on a piece of bread on the road. And whoop it was run over by a car. Almost lifeless and shaky, it still struggled hard and was trying its best to flip its wings and fly… And there you are….It was squashed to pulp by another car. Enters in the picture a big raven…and starts feeding on the debilitated bird while it is still alive!! So you see..that one bloody vulnerable moment is all it takes.."

So people what did you learn?

Moral of the story 1: Your one weak moment is exploited enough to make your existence no less than a living corpse.

Moral of the story2: You shouldn’t eat in the middle of the road.

Tick tick tick tick tick tick-ah-tick tick tick tick tick tick

2009-05-17T12:08:00.001+02:00

Bachaooooooo! I think I will die of an heart attack laughing!!

If you think I have lost it..Probably you are correct..one has to, after they see this video. Its a masterpiece.. Simply a gem!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PFURM9eA_Q

P.S. I am yet to get over the song..its so catchy...Tick tick tick tick tick tick...ah..tick tick tick tick tick tick..darrrrrrrrling...

How true!

2009-05-07T17:22:00.000+02:00

"Sólo porque alguien no te ame como tú quieres, no significa que no te ame con todo su ser. "

>>>Just because someone does not love you the way you want them to, does not mean that they do not love you with all their soul.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez. 1982 Nobel Laureate in Literature.

P.S.Those who have read "Love in the time of cholera" know him well :)

Speaking with a memory...

2009-05-06T23:15:00.001+02:00

I don’t know what prompted me to search her number and get back to her. But I did.

“The number you have dialled does not exist.”Shut up!! &%$§*”!!!!

I searched through my soiled..ragged old telephone diary for her house number.Nope.
Idiot!!You even jotted down your maali’s number but not hers!!!

Okiee..think…think…Ping!! Did you search through your birthday reminder book??

Yuhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu… Got it..Finally!!

I stomped the telephone keys immediately. Her mom picked up the phone.Now beat this…Aunty recognised my voice!! Wow…It’s been 5 freaking years!!! Needless to say it was so overwhelming :)

Unfortunately she wasn’t home.

And although got her new number..somehow I just couldn’t get through her. After series of hide-n-seek trials of me calling her and she doing pretty much the same, but not being able to speak, eventually we spoke today.

The initial 5 min were tough.

Stupid female..you made such a huge ruckus searching her number.. now why don’t you speak??

The past has passed in a blur. What on earth should I speak??

You see its fun to remember the person you used to be (I was a dumb ass for sure!!!) and college days sure trigger some fond memories. But re-connecting to the old times without facing a trade-off with your current identity is difficult! You move on..in terms of time, space, aspirations and people and so does the other person.

We chatted for exactly 19 min 42 sec. But the conversation was timeless.

Send me your picture was the parting message.

P.S.Neha was one of my closest friend in college and the only scapegoat for my idiosyncrasies then.

P.P.S. Text in italics is Arpita thinking out aloud..just in case ;)

Silence makes sound...

2009-05-03T14:01:00.000+02:00

I have lamented speaking…. often enough to realize that sometimes silence is far better than imprudent speech. On occasions when I preferred to be silent than talking, made me believe more and more that silence is indeed one of the most commanding form of human expression. At least I sought solace in the fact that it was easier to live with what I didn’t say than what I did. (I Love You’s, Thank You’s and I’m Sorry’s being the exceptions)

Silence, however, many a times is misinterpreted for professing consent or conducting a fallacy in support of which you hold no supportive argument.

A sign of weakness.

But times when I was silent and people thought I was weak, I think they were wrong.

Silence is not being inert. It’s not the absence of words.

You are silent when you don’t wish to attend every argument you are invited to. You are silent when it’s beneath your dignity to respond. You are silent when you don’t need to justify your demeanour. You are silent when you loose faith in a person and with all said and done before; it’s not worth a repetition anymore.

You are silent when your actions are more expressive than words.

You are silent when a moment seems beautiful..flawless and perfect without the need of words.

Sometimes, words by themselves are impotent. It’s silence which makes the sound.

Akele ho???

2009-05-01T22:16:00.001+02:00

XYZ: "So..went grocery shopping ?"

Arpita: "Yeah..."

XYZ: "Akele..akele??? Why living alone? Arre Boyfriend bana lo..phir woh sab kuch uthayega." (Why living alone? Get a boyfriend..then he would carry everything for you)

Arpita: "Not living alone. Just chose to live independently. And I like it that way."

XYZ: "Achcha..OK..OK."

Certain things in life insult your intelligence, for instance, the aforementioned piece of conversation!! Although you laugh at XYZ later (Saala..Frusti...Looser kahin ka!!) and chuckle at the thought (Yeah..yeah I know I’m single and that too a dish! Hahahahaahha)

“Man is a social animal”. I remember writing an essay on it when I was in 5th standard. Not that I deny it today. But trust me, it doesn’t hurt that much to be alone, either.

Okiee..to be candid, for someone like me who never ever lived in a hostel, coming back to an empty room was tough initially!! But now it’s my haven. As soon as I come through the door I put on some good music, get myself a cup of chai and thereafter I can be as self-interested as I please.

I mean living alone is not a smooth journey. You definitely win some and loose some.

Hmm..alright..lets think about it!

To weigh the pros:

Your house just remains the way you left it. You make mess, you do the cleaning. Simple.

There are no scruffy towels and toothpaste smears in the bathroom.

No one to grouch if you are an insomniac and leave the bedside light on to read until four in the morning, munching biscuits in bed.

You can rely on horrible salads/ MTR ready to-eat meals, savour every morsel of milk-bread and in worst case scenario eat aloo bhujia directly from containers, without taking a guilt trip of not cooking for the other person (There’s a hell of a well guarded excuse: “What's the point cooking, when it's only me?”)

You can cuss without a fuss and sing out aloud!

How much ever lousy you may look but you can still hang around in those horrendous pair of pink pyjamas and stringy hair!

You can go on a loooooooooong walk for as long as you want (I have already roamed around half of Ulm on foot!! )

You are responsible for your own time keeping and duties. You are your own wall calendar and desk planner yourself.

And not to forget, you also learn some well aimed, key self-defense moves that might scare the living crap out of roadside goons.

So in principle you have autonomy. (Which eventually doesn’t seem so strange to you)

In argument of the cons:

It’s plausibly easy to buy too much food. So you have to keep reminding yourself that you are the only one who is going to eat. (Else fungus and bacteria have a feast lined up)

Living alone can lead to some pretty awful food experiences. You think you are in control and you experiment but later you feed it to the dogs.

It’s a one person household. So you practically run for home, groceries, cooking, laundry, trash, finances. And when you invariably get back home from work at 10 pm, sometimes it does gets difficult(Damn! Everything closes down at 8 p.m. in Germany!)

There are days when your professional/ personal/ emotional/ physical life is an all time dipping low and you got to act brave and face it all by yourself..(But then you learn to convince yourself that “It’s going to be one of those days….I will get over it” :))

You are branded an “Ice queen”. A lonely and bitter recluse who can’t love and co-habit and hence denies relationship with the human race. ( You gotta laugh this out too, for it takes far more courage to understand and self-accept yourself first before sharing your life with someone else!!!)

In a nutshell, living alone might be untraditional, but is definitely cheaper than hiring someone to put you out of your misery. You needn’t be in a relationship to be happy or feel good about yourself! Cinderella could have been happy too even if she had never met her Prince Charming..just that she never thought that ways!

I highly recommend to one and all. Live alone. Once.

Day after day...Page after page....you will realise that even if one piece of the story is missing, others still make sense.

You step out of your skin and metamorphose into someone, who for better or worse is more comfortable with oneself!

It’s a learning experience, even if you learn the lessons the hard way, which sometimes is the best or the only way.

Fool's Paradise!

2009-04-26T21:33:00.001+02:00

“The way to overcome the angry man is with gentleness,

The evil man with goodness,

The miser with generosity,

The liar with truth.”

Crap.

A riot of colours

2009-04-19T20:50:00.000+02:00

With purple tulips popping everywhere and a shocking explosion of yellow in the air, my monochromatic world goes emerald green again...

I need not mark in the calendar anymore,

Yes. The spring has sprung!

Just like that

2009-03-22T23:47:00.000+01:00

All of you, who have been hi-fiveing each other, thinking I’m dead. How little you know me!! Well..I was just trying to build up some suspense. So, to your disappointment, I’m back!

Life was excessively passive in the past one month. Nothing much to pen down. And munching on the last handful of Kukure from India, I’m sure this post isn’t going to have an uplifting message either!

I have been busy killing my personal life and transmuting into an android. With not a single day off since 01.01.09, the Bangles crooning “Manic Monday” sure get me into never ending splits! But it's the kind of life I have got used to now. I work like there’s no tomorrow and pay my bills on time.

The last pack of Maggi*** is over. So as of now I’m verrrrrrrrrrrrry hungry! And practically hallucinating myself on the couch in front of the television, with Ma bringing me hot “aloo parathas” followed by cold-red-juicy watermelon with the pips spat out. Errrrrr….I think I should shut up lest I’m highly motivated to clean up the drool over my laptop.

Coming to Ma. Lately, she doesn’t seem to be too happy with my bachelorette status. She finds it extremely frugal. Ma…naekami korchi naa. Okieee..getting oneself hitched might reap thousands of benefits...just that right now I don't see it. I am single and confused and economically in the least favourable position to pay off my independence and getting-to-know-each-other phone bills!

It was still bright outside when I left the lab today, so I decided to walk back home. It’s a 20 min walk. But I don’t know why I walked past my home. Just kept on walking…didn’t look at my watch. Have you ever wondered all our lives we are running…either running for something or away from something. May be for those 2 hours today, I walked for no reason. And it was good.

There are some people in your life whom you think you know. But in reality you don’t….at all. And nobody’s at fault. Neither you, nor them. Just that they surround themselves with an impenetrable wall which is difficult to break in. As I've learned, respect the denial.

I am tired of people walking over me and out of my life. The inability to change it and the inadequacy to accept it has made me indifferent..unmoved in a way. I don’t rattle up people with my blistering retorts anymore. I don’t place the blame, even if it’s due and legitimate. If I need to purge I talk to myself. No wonder, apart from being vertically challenged, I’m strange to a lot of people :)

Now, I know it will take you some time to belch over the above volley of crap. To aid the digestion, check out the superrrrrrrr mast picture below. I’m so very glad that my sisters were not fond of painting!

(***Maggi is done in 2 min is a darn myth! It takes 5 min to boil water itself!! I think it’s the biggest marketing hoax ever, fiddling with consumer psychology esp when people are absolutely famished! So who ever spread the rumour should be made to eat overcooked-watery-maggi-without-forks-with-dirty-hands. Period.)

Life in a test tube

2009-02-21T23:48:00.003+01:00

I am a killing machine at work, the one who rips an embryo without a hiccup.

Not that I justify the pain I inflict on my lab animals, but my EQ is zero when I sacrifice them.

No, I don’t house any emotion-management strategies. Just that, at the beginning of my scientific career I convinced myself that I would be pursuing an empirically valid curriculum and sensitivity of any kind, whatsoever; should seldom follow it.

Until now, I held the view that I could keep my personal self discrete from the professional arena. But an absolute elimination of this professional-personal overlap sometimes becomes non-negotiable. Alas, my existence is more than a university address, a PC and an e-mail ID, a fact I invariably fail to acknowledge.

Yes, I do feel, sometimes; even if I’m at work.(I’m sure my bum-chums across the globe would be already belching over this! You megalomaniacs! Without me resorting to extreme physical violence, you better believe me!)

These days I’m working with clinical biopsies of terminally ill cancer patients, who are probably dead by now.

Big deal..right?

Wrong. It’s far bigger.

I’m chopping, grinding, and mincing what was once a walking-talking-smiling human being. They would have never imagined that their brain that got confused when first love happened or their heart that followed it would be mummified in a tube. It would be passed on to the hands of a stranger, who would be foisting an unimaginable insult to their remains, a final blow to an already hard enough life.

I may not feel, but I know what a cancer patient goes through. The worst thing about cancer is not only the pre/post-treatment aesthetics of it. The thought that “Cancer is killing ME” is what directs the genesis from a serious illness to death.

Radiations, potent carcinogens, cancer inducing viruses, so on and so forth, you name it and either I have worked or I am working with it . No doubt, I have taken an under-calculated risk with own my life and in principle I face a thousand times higher risk of developing cancer as compared to a natural predisposition. Just that the weighty argument, “Who knows what happens to you in this medley of life?” keeps me happy.

The path to near immortality is and will remain elusive. I know I would succumb to death too, sooner or later. Dying doesn’t bother me much. But I would not like to see it coming, growing on me every single day when I wake up!

If one fine day I realize my life is a countdown and my clock is ticking away, how will I read all the books that I want to? Learn dance (with my two left feet? I guess yes...yeah laugh!), churn out all those amazing goodies I’m learning from the oven? Make love in a place I’m not supposed to? Tell people how much I love them or for that matter express detest for my boss even if he was to sack me!

Only if one could live a lifetime soon enough!

And to think of my life ending up in a tube is dismal enough to give me biiiiiiiiig-biiiiiiiig knots in my stomach.

In one of my previous posts, I made a juvenile comment that I don’t want to live long. I would like to make an amendment to that, right here, right now.

I don’t know how long I will live, but I definitely know I will live only once.
And until I die, I want to LIVE and not just exist. Nothing less, nothing more...

P.S. This post is sincerely dedicated to all the cancer patients in my clinical records who fought the disease. You have left a legacy of inspiration.
And I honour the undaunted others who are confronting the challenge with their boundless zest for life.

I shall keep the faith :)

2009-02-19T12:53:00.000+01:00

I can.

2009-02-16T22:43:00.000+01:00

I can soak the first rain and taste the virgin snow.
I can sit along the river, just like a stone; and listen to the ripples.
I can gaze at the dark night and reckon the uncountable stars.
I can look in the eyes of the sun. But how I wish I could melt, for it's too cold inside.

I can hum aloud that melody even if I forgot the words, long ago.
I can bump in to a sidewalk, meeting a memory I try to forget.
I can laugh at the moments, separated by time and distance.
I can leave something behind, to never find it, ever again.
I can pretend I don’t know, even if a part of me says, I do.
I can scribble my life, unwritten before.

I can hesitate less, if I’m judged lesser.

For I’m nothing but a speck of black smudged on white.
An oddity lost in the even.
An anomaly in the cluster of normal.
A stranger amidst the known.
A face dissolved in the crowd.

Let me stop by, to witness my life.
I can grow old along with myself.

Before I die!

2009-02-11T23:13:00.000+01:00

If there's one thing that stands tall on "My bucket list of things to do before I die"..its got to be meeting THE A.R.Rehman. In person.

Its "Rehna Tu" making nth round on the player and Iam so very glad that he grabbed the mic and did the song.

With music so profound, everything he creates just feels like an anthem to me!

Kudos!

P.S.Those who do not believe in the audacity of the thought, you better do ;)

Misfit?

2009-02-09T00:44:00.001+01:00

“Misfit”.

For the zillionth time, someone pasted that label on me!

Ten years ago and I would have said that the statement was unjustifiably judgemental; today it’s more than a cliché!

The world belongs to “the normal”, “the obvious”, “the usual” and “the politically correct”. Unfortunately I haven’t always done the right thing!

My birth certificate classifies me a Homo sapiens...I doubt if I belong to this world! HaHaHa

Touche'

2009-02-08T12:52:00.000+01:00

"I wanna live fast, die young and leave a beautiful corpse!"- Nick Romano (John Derek), Knock on Any Door.

So do I ;)

The Lab-rathon

2009-02-05T23:46:00.001+01:00

As the watch struck 11 p.m., I finally called it a day.

The 17 hours long lab ordeal came to an end and I swooped on the empty bus seat just like Tom would pounce on Jerry who has been absconding with a biiiiiig block of cheese!

There are 206 bones in the human body. I read somewhere in my 2nd standard text book. Today I know exactly where they are!

Ma

2009-02-03T23:52:00.001+01:00

Tomaar moton bhalo bangla likhte jaani na, bhool ta nischoyi korbo..Kintu chesta korchi...

Aami jaani, tumi konoh din aamar blog ta podbe na. Aar jeta aami aeikhooni likhchi oer kichu maine-o hobe na..Jai hok...likhte chaichi.

Just ichche kori, je kichu bochor por , kono din, haatat, jyodi tomaar mon kore...aar tumi aeita podoh..tumi jene jao, je tomar moton sneh aamaake aar kao daelo na.

Aar beshash koro, aami kono din jeebone kaoke aeto miss kori ni jei moton aami tomake kori. Proti din.

Ma..jyodi tomar jonno kichu likhtaam na ..aei space ta incomplete hoto. Love you.

Cleaning up my closet...

2009-02-03T22:12:00.000+01:00

What is it with memories?

It’s funny.

Sometimes I wonder, there were ‘n’ number of people I met and events I witnessed in my life, then why is it that I don’t remember it all?

Did I make my own memories? I think I did.

I chose to hold on to people and moments I would have liked to register as my past. At times being manipulative, somewhere, somehow. Not recording the episodes raw and naked, the way life delivered it to me, but sifting through all.Clasping people and things I did not wish to let go and inconspicuously deleting the ones that chafed me.

And that’s the reason, when I search for who I am today, I don’t get an answer! And it’s not surprising. How could I, when I don't even know who I've been??

All my life I had shut my doors. Clutching on to defunct faces and gathering obsolete thoughts in my arms. Faking it to myself that this was my world and my memories .

I think I need to blow off the dust and clean up my closet.

The Biography

2009-01-27T09:34:00.001+01:00

Statutory Warning:

1. The post is embellished with umpteen brackets (and brackets inside brackets (see, I told you!))…Sorrrrrrrry, had least choice there!!

2. Do not pacify with "The subject". I know he lacks the intellectual fortitude to debate himself!

P.S.Mockers and scorners do not end up in heaven! So thought, I might as well post this, since I’m frying in hell anyways!

Read on...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I always wanted to write a book. (Did I hear someone laughing?? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!)
But (and trust me, this happens to be a very biiiiiiiiiiig BUT without a double T), I was always scared.

What if, what I write never gets published???

Now come on!! How does one possibly manage to find a publisher who is balmy enough to print the ramblings of a seldom lucid mind? (Yeah, that’s the polite version of “No body’s going to publish the loadacrap I write!!”)

So while this budding writer in me (nipped at the bud..booohooo!!) was lost in her reveries, searching for THE muse, the “Eureka” moment struck in a few nanoseconds ago (And just like the God damn frenzy bitch I’m, I intend to very well capitalize on it ;) )

So, here goes the deal. It’s going to be a (The) biography.

Of whom? (Bingo! Not bad, I got some intelligent readers after all!!)

Well, it happens to be one of these “social animals” I have known for the past one year
(BTW today commemorates 1 year of that stomach –churning- roller -coaster experience!!)
Exuse me???Did I really say 1 year???(Yeah sometimes you are stronger than you think you are!! (And I do get philosophical at times…(Now all you morons out there, Google the word Sarcasm!!))

Alright..let me cut the crap out and focus on my subject (Ohho..“Subject” sounds so very uninteresting..Let’s call him…hmmm..ABCD..Arre that’s purely random with no dual meaning intended, what-so-ever)

So ABCD is ..is ..is ..(Hell No!! I’m already stumbling for adjectives, how on earth am I going to finish an entire book on him???) You see, how taxing the ABCD project can get on your brains?? For the simple reason that writing about him makes you feel so very intellectually lost!!!

Then why him?

Because, I can lay a bet for my life, there’s no one who can be as highly amusing to all concerned as him.
(In fact, I’m very disappointed with the researcher’s going bonkers over Einstein’s brain!
I know..I know.. my words are held in high regard by one and all, so here are my two cents…

Dear neurologists of America,
Although it may seem that ABCD had been inflicted with a major head injury when he speaks, but trust me, by far, he still is the best-amongst-the-worst-harmless-human model-of-insanity.
(You loopy scientists!! Where will you get such an archetype??? Grab him right-away!!))

Nonetheless, the million dollar question still hanging in the air is, “How is ABCD like??”

(Now that’s a spoiler, you don’t want me to divulge all the details about him…do you?
You bunch of sadists..who will buy the book then?? Yes I am bloody calculative!!!
Okiee..chalo.. just for the sake of building up the reader’s anticipation.. I will braid in a little bit of details..happy??)

Generally, I’m a very polite person, but when it comes to ABCD I have to let go of my usually genteel self. So do not get startled by what follows. It is NOT mean, it is plain honest, just like a bullet right through your forehead (Muuuuuaaaaaaah..kya dialogue hai!! Ditto Rajnikant. Actually, for all the obvious reasons, when it’s him; I talk in bullets!!)

Alright then, here goes the sampler…

10 things that make ABCD a highly (un) intresting subject to pen down.

1. ABCD thinks..I repeat..he thinks..he is a smart ass. Right?
(Wrong!! In my worthy opinion, he is and will be the 1st and the only Witless Wonder on this earth.And he is a league in himself, with no legitimate contender to follow.)

2. ABCD thinks he is shrewd enough to win over a rich-widow and live happily ever after. (And I think he’s totally and definitely going to Hell!!)

3. ABCD thinks of him as one of the jauntiest fellows of his times and space.
(I wouldn’t have disagreed, only and only if he would have shaven!! He is hopelessly lazy. I pray this glorious male ritual makes a comeback in his life with a regular periodicity! )

4. ABCD loves talking. PERIOD. (ABCD= Kareena Kapoor in Jab We Met !! In fact, he is one of those guys who would start digging up the old graves and wake up the dead, just to talk if he is stranded in a graveyard by chance.)

5. ABCD loves food. And cooking? (Well, we will save that discussion for some other occasion.) So, if there’s one guy who is not only capable of self-invitation but chalking out the menu in YOUR head as well, it’s him! Spell food and his face goes as radiant as a 100 watt Bajaj bulb (But then you also forget if your table cloth has haldi stains, there are not enough plates or you might get third degree burns frying the kachoris. It’s always a pleasure seeing him eat. And this is THE only and good exception about him that needs to be registered! Yeah..right.. I see it coming.. A keg of ego pumping in somewhere in US of A)

5. ABCD assumes he has an awesome sense of humor. (Well…that’s the mother of all jokes!! You know he is running out of wit and is buying time when he simply starts coughing!!)

6. While ABCD thinks he can defy the time capsule (He is of the “Mera dil jawaan hai” types), I’m thinking of gifting him a mirror on his birthday. (Dude, factually speaking, those days are not far away when the Archaeological Society of India will start giving you a historical monument status!)

7. ABCD claims that he can catch every goal that my thoughts make while frolicking through the playground of my mind, but I believe he underplays it!! (Talking to a concrete wall is saner, because it’s extremely unlikely that he would contemplate the better of it without making your speech an out-and-out flop show!)

8. ABCD likes to assume that he has a huge fan following (read female) across the globe. (Dude, Knock Knock, your wake up call is long overdue!! You are No.1 on the hit list of people who want to spank you as soon as they see you. So don’t be alarmed if you go jogging and you have someone crawling out of the manhole, pouncing on you. It’s got to be one of your die hard (“you die hard”) fans!!)

9. Now while ABCD might be under an impression that he was an Angel with a halo in a quaint-little town called Ulm (let me rephrase it: A darn boring-village called Ulm), I would like to clear the thick fog around his head…I would rather kill myself before I say that!! (No wonder I was always miserable during those 6 months!!!)

10. ABCD claims he can’t be intertwined in the nuptial knot. (The yet modest truth remains that no girl would marry him even if she is held at gun point!!)

So reader’s by the end of it you must have realised that Life is not fair and ABCD should get used to it. (ABCD who???What???? You people already threw your PCs out of the window????)

Never mind…

ABCD (cough..cough) you know I was joking, right? So the invite to U.S. is still very much on?

(Photo courtesy:http://youaresafehere.com/images/biography.gif)

Blah..blah...blah

2009-01-23T00:24:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I wonder how methodical (better read humanoid) one can get.

I kicked off the jerky alarm clock, had a shower, did pooja, flushed two toasts with a cup of tea and ran to catch bus number 3, only to realize that I reached my lab freaking 2 hours before the scheduled time today!!

While I could have whined away to glory, pulling the quilt over my insomniac head,thanks to my alarm (a superrrrr moron!!!), I got up at 5 in the morning instead of 7!!

No wonder I spent the rest of the day as straight as the leaning tower of Pisa!

It's 12:30 a.m. With The Cranberries blasting off in my earphones right now and my mouth churning a tasteless salad (which BTW I find too sick to eat) I’m making the presentation for tomorrow’s lab meeting.

Did the band just call someone “Zombie”??? I ain't complaining!

Jab main chota bachcha tha :)

2009-01-17T00:58:00.000+01:00

The purpose of his life...

2009-01-14T00:07:00.001+01:00

If you haven’t heard of someone whose definition of art is the spider web on the ceiling of his room, then let me have the pleasure of introducing you to LUIS.

With an outrageously biting wit, this colleague of mine has never failed to zing his target!

Exaggerating, am I?

Okieee ..picture the excerpts from one of our many, rather mundane, beating around the bush conversations.

BTW its late hours of the night and we are sick of still working in the lab.

Arrrpaaa(Yeah..that’s what he calls me): Luis, what’s the purpose of life?

Luis: To procreate.

Arrrpaaa: Errrrrrrrrrrrr what??? That’s all you are living for??

Luis: Until you have procreated you are dead!

Arrrpaaa : I get the sting of irony!! Alright, I’m a waste by your tangential standards. But you are dead too!

Luis (with a small wry smile twisting at the corners of his mouth): Well I’m not sure...

On a killing spree...

2009-01-11T19:56:00.001+01:00

HeeHeeHaHaHa..I’m going Ted Bundy again!

Have decapitated dozens in the week bygone and have a history as clean as a hedonistic serial killer!!

BTW I’m talking about mice.

Neat assessment for today: My PhD should fetch something worthwhile. Have done enough khoon-kharaba!

If she could fly

2009-01-10T00:45:00.001+01:00

She wanted to defy gravity.
But nobody taught her how to fly.

One day she stepped out of her nest.
She fluttered her melancholy wings.
And left the sleeping earth behind.

The wind was cold, the clouds were lonely.
Twisted and bruised, but her pinions, finally glided through air.

Yes...she could fly.

The tiny world below inspired fear.
So, she locked her eyes and dreamt a dream.
A dream of floating highest in the sky.

Her soul soared. And so did her quest for the zenith.

She spread her arms more.
Restlessly, she flew and flew and flew.
Until the autumn spawned spring and the dawn and dusk enmeshed into unearthly colours.

She reached the acme, but did she?
She was lone.
Where was her home?

Could she have flied without leaving her ground?

The rain no longer quenched her, sunshine didn’t give her warmth.
She was tired.

End, she let go of her wings.

A moment of nothingness.
Except, a mouthful of sky. A morsel of earth. A sup of her blood.

Is that love?

2009-01-07T22:00:00.001+01:00

Love can’t be defined.
They say.

But if I can, is that love?

I never cried with you, but I laughed, until tears dwelled up in my eyes and the real world got hazy. Is that love?

I don’t know if I desired you, but I had the need to be irresistibly desired by you. Is that love?

I never touched you, but I always felt you. Is that love?

You said what you wanted to, not what I would have liked to hear. I love that. Is that love?

You found me a despiteful fiend, someone ugly, when I was. And it didn’t hurt. Is that love?

I know, you know the real me and I’m not scared of myself anymore.For me that is love.

Mute. Unspoken.

I still do.

Chintan over Chai...

2009-01-04T23:07:00.001+01:00

The biscuit dissolved, leaving a body-less glob underneath the tea in my cup.
So did my thoughts.

Eventually, deliquescing into a helpless smile, I wondered.
It would take just another spoonful of year to sip tea from the same blue cups I did as a child.

In retrospect

2008-12-16T16:21:00.000+01:00

The greasy kitchen tiles abandon the oil, each drop at a time falling passively.
Pink Bougainvillea has lost its battle with the mould on the balcony walls.
Uncapped pens lie orphan in the crowded drawers. The ink has dried up.
Thin crust of paint crumbles down from the ceiling , uncovering the emptiness that lies beneath.
Smothered within the piles of laundry, the laughter no longer refrains.
Nervous, sweaty hands stir the insipid curry, it seems one of the ingredients is missing; happiness, may be?
Tears trickle down unnoticed behind a pair of spectacles, the salt encrusted within the folds of the book leave a trail though.
Permanent wrinkles have replaced what were faint smiles once.

A faded, torn, black and white memory is all that remains, for the time is forgotten long ago.

The past is no longer where I left it.
I step inside the roof , only to find myself older.

Since when did life become so cheap?

2008-11-27T20:22:00.002+01:00

Incompetent system.
Religious intolerance.
Few embittered-frustrated entities.

Solution? Simply bomb the people!

A total obliteration of what once existed as life, reducing it to nothing but ashes.

No grave or no one’s left to visit it.

And just in case if any traces of you is still breathing life, it sifts through ashes in a vain attempt to put together what’s left, like pieces of a puzzle. Alas, no matter how you join them, the voids still remain. Forever.

“We mourn the dead” goes the fucking, stuck up record again!

Apologies!

2008-11-23T00:42:00.001+01:00

With a ginormous bunch of non-literal activities jamming up my days, chasing the blog comments with prompt replies is just not happening!

But I promise, I will reply to one and all very soon :)

Till then keep the faith!

AB

Season's first snow!

2008-11-23T00:12:00.001+01:00

It was beautiful.

Waking up and watching the soft fluffy snowflakes glide gently on earth.

P.S. The measly camera phone did not do justice to the picturesque virgin snow..
Wish I could capture what I saw!

Ahem....BTW someone in THE US of A might be feeling J!

The Countdown Has Begun!

2008-11-18T22:00:00.002+01:00

It’s been 1 year, 1 month, 10 days and 21 hours since I last saw them.

Home. Family. Friends. My roots.

Work is splintering my spine.

I’m not sleepy.

I’m not hungry.

With 10 more days to go, I just keep reciting to myself “I will be home”…

Testifying 20 years of togetherness...

2008-11-12T00:10:00.000+01:00

I used to ask her what she thought of me. She used to pass it off saying a few syllables aren’t good enough to testify a relationship.

Though the world may assume this an ostentatious display, I take the liberty of adducing her unconditional love and affection with an exaggerated dignity.

Whenever I read it, I’m linguistically challenged, for it’s the poverty of the language which doesn’t allow one to substitute emotions with appropriate literal expressions.

Only I know what this means to me.

"Here Iam, writing a testimonial for my sister because her incessant coaxing and cursing gives me sleepless nights. Iam not doing that to embellish her profile or glorify our love for each other.But before i begin, all i want to say is that, the most difficult task in this whole universe is to testify your relationship with someone without whose presence, it is impossible to define what life actually means to you.

The day Bunty announced that she would be moving to Germany for her higher studies, i was devastated. I try every single moment to be in her shoes, emulate her and eventually adjust to her absence, but at the end of the day, i succumb to my inabilities. I miss the day when she used to pack my lunch(jam bread) whenever mummy used to fall sick and i wud relish that. I remember how we both used to do window shopping in 'Anzal plaza' and pacify Tumpa with small treats if we left her at home.

I sit and reminisce how i gulped down yummy cakes baked by her under one breath and eventually mummy wud lock them away in the cupboard. Whenever i walk past Archies, iam reminded of the New Year errands of buying cards for friends, which i used to carry out with her. Chhoti chhoti cheezen hain...How can i summarize the 20 years i spent with her in a few bytes.

Sometimes, i hold her clothes close to myself and holding back my tears, try to feel the warmth she exuded. Before she was about to leave for the airport this time, she staggered into every room cluelessly, crying miserably, as if trying to gather and carry memories along with her. I think of that day and burst into tears. I know my words would sound like an overstatement to some people, but do i care?
People say iam a recluse, way too reserved but if i have the two most beautiful women in the world as my sisters, i really wouldn't bother not being in friends with others.

Sometimes, i feel dejected, trying too hard to keep our family together and take care of their small issues the way she did but unable to match her fervour and intrepidity. To the world, blue is blue but if its red for bunty, its red for me as well. I hope this illustration works in my favour.Bunty,gup nahin maar rahin hun. Believe me. For me,you are perfect in every sense and iam proud to say that we are blessed to have a sister like you in our life. Had i been a guy, i would have married her. Kitni SEXY hai meri behen. Sorry,not able to show my literary skills in this testimonial.Iam perplexed, as if what else to write.

All i want to say is, just be the strong woman you are.

Iam looking forward to the day when i will embrace my Germany returned, accent maarne waali Dr.bunty, elated, that she's still the very same person i have spent the 20 most beautiful years of my life with.

I love you, sis!!!"

Bad day ?? Naaaah :)

2008-11-06T23:19:00.001+01:00

Today was a big time disaster.

The Lab Meeting was extremely sloppy, long and unproductive.

Following which, I ended up wasting myself and the highly awaited, 15 min lunch break with a dandy’s intellectually stagnant, self-indulgent crap. Wish I could empty the whole ketchup sachet up his nose!!
The supposedly progressive thinker didn’t approve of teetotaler, non-smoking females. Apparently we are not-so-smart-and-not-so-happening-fusty parcels-of-the-opposite-sex, who are darn unsure of themselves.
Indeed. I’m stuck-up-in stone age because I sip lemonade , I’m uncool because I don’t play psychedelic rock and I’m not smart because I don’t know how to exclaim “Bravo” to my boss’s highly stupid ideas which are fit enough to make their way in to the Encyclopedia of Idiocy. But then I have learned to be myself, with most ease and least noise and that too without falling off the bar stools every night!And I’m happy about it. Period.

BTW, people don’t look cool, charming and articulate with their fly unzipped, either. So, dude rather channelize your attention at the right places.

Well, the long lasting feud between back pain and work eventuated in busting up my whole day, experiments included! Hahahahaha. Sleepy and exhausted as I returned to my office to finally gulp down a glass of water . Yipeeee!!!!The Boss popped out of nowhere to irk me further. I tried to act busy, but as lady luck would have it…Ping! Calvin and Hobbes waiting on a minimized window suddenly showed up. (Yeah, I’m indebted to mankind for coining the over-rated word “Luck”..the blaming business becomes easier, even if it does no other good!).

God you really know which buttons of mine to push..and you push them with greatest deliberation, don’t you?

But, as always, C&H was worth the embarrassment. Cracked me up, for good.

How does it feel to be a mother?

2008-11-04T00:09:00.001+01:00

As the two decades swirled and collided inharmoniously before her sleepless eyes,
A seldom heard yet unambiguous voice intruded the soundless, imperturbable night.

The unimpeded, proverbial cry ceased to comply with the defined code of silence,
Piercing through the edifice, it screamed for an identity, with no temporal preference.

The empty pair of eyes impetuously wondered, how it felt to beget someone who was no one else’s but hers,
With the same crimson taint in its blood, a flawless reflection of her, albeit with no errs.

A blank slate, on which she could candidly scribble and versify her life,
That missing piece of her story, when amalgamated, everything would be described.

But anon she cognised, motherhood was not to be chosen for its own sake,
The nestling deserved to be none other than its own self, immaculate and not fake.

Someone with no predicaments, for it was to be a creation of its own,
A unique masterpiece with no proprietor; chaste,exuberant and unowned.

A pocketful of memories on Diwali

2008-10-29T01:29:00.001+01:00

Attention: What may follow might sound sickeningly mawkish.
So, please grin and bear else brush aside if sounds highly insipid!

Today as Diwali arrives in all its sounds and sparkles, I’m trying to gather my handful of memories. Regardless of the mythological events Ma used to narrate to build up my reverence for day, the day, for me was more of a reaffirmation of the fact that I was with the people I loved most in my life.

Today all those memories I congregated make me miss,

Ma-Papa, for everything.

Mun n Tumps,for being the people they are in my life.

Dadu-Dida, for their unceasing aashirwaad.

Rahul, Shivi, Sri for simply being there, always, no matter how far!

Tiny twinkling diyas, for making my home look the way it would have looked.

Aarti, panchmitra, prasad and kumkum for imparting an air of serenity and completion to our pooja-ghar.

The cloying mishtis and lip-smacking namkeens that would have made Ma miss me(and is making me envy the petu Bachcha Party back home!!)

The cold feel of mehndi on my palms and all the paraphernalia that would go in to making its colour turn out as dark as possible.

The endless trials of Diwali salwar-kameez and the obvious tantrums of it not fitting thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat well, blowing up Ma’s last hidden fuse!

The customary exchange of Diwali-thali’s and mithai dabbas and the by default wish that nobody gives us burfi!!

Papa’s camera, which would have struggled massively for squeezing the entire battalion inside the frame alongwith a generous dose of phooljhadis and anars.

The nosy-little kids in Munirka who would have punctured my eardrums with their never-ending ladi’s.

All the colony aunty’s who would have succeeded in pushing that extra gulab-jamun, very conveniently down my throat.

The entire Dada and Di gang that would have turned up for Kaali-pujo.

Gobbling down Thakur’s mool bhog, 1 in the night.

Scraping off the melted candles on the balcony walls next day, collecting and re-melting the wax to make a “brand new” candle!

These and many more.

For good times don’t last but fond memories do. And I’ll always be glad that I was a part of these lovely moments frozen in time.

Happy Diwali!

Hope

2008-10-25T14:44:00.001+02:00

“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”
-‘Andy’ in the letter he writes to ‘Red’, Shawshank Redemption

Undeniably the above are a tangling of words beautiful for their own succinct description and exactness.

But my unfettered mind still questions the extravagant adoration for hope.

Does being hopelessly hopeful really sound that hopeful? For sometimes hope may be worse than hopelessness.