1…2…3…..4………………………………………and its out!!!

A dedication to my dearest chums who make my journey lovely and lively!!!

Most innovations happen in serendipity. This however folks is not a chat on the discovery by Sir. Alexander Fleming or wireless products of a bustled computer age. It is about Kms of travel over tarmac from my niche to the skyscraping grey jungle for 9 hours of sweat. Eager eyes watch minutes go tik-tok, tik-tok, till the needle points at the hour of departure. Woopy, I find myself again in the back seat of a faded white 12 seater coach along with 8 of my cab mates.

A sneak at moi chums:

WCC: The first to enter and last to leave, he is called nari or kudikara from the land of Karaikudi . Often morakkafying with his tiny eyes, he’s quiet friendly (to just one) and a miser when it comes to use of words. Well, that is mainly because, he believes in ‘watching’ than confronting a ‘anyone/someone’ with words and scaring with his signature laugh and first ‘funny’ word ‘aayyo, ayyo, ayyoyo’. Loves admiring all beauties the city offers, be it the left, right or the front view from the cab. It’s a talent and he does it like a cat sneaking into your kitchen, removing the lid from the milk vessel slowly, with its eyes shut to drink, thinking that no one is watching it. Little does he estimates the eagle eyes of his expert pals behind who can easily spot the tiniest of movements. Lean and picky in eats, he spends most time watching an outdated mobile for a message that seldom comes. Its understood though, when you’re in love, you are prone to look at words sent by your better half (moon ailu ailu). Another deep aspect of him which altered his interests was his dear best friend bestowed with special favors (hush hush) and late calls even though he is sung his favorite song ‘Alaipayuthey’ to change his mind, to treat everyone equally.

Nuts: The once skinny glassed innocence from Madurai prone to all the kinds of micro-organisms, soon transmogrified to a tyre of countless dimensions and an ACC. Uh-huh, hold your thoughts there, the next few lines will say why I said this. Months back when he was new, the only way he made acquaintances with our group was with his first introduction – my father is from CBI. To all of us, CBI meant ‘Central Bureau of Investigation’ and it was appealing to have a friend who’s father belonged to this prestige service. A month gone by with the same belief, and here he is…..bombing our notions by saying CBI – Central Bank of India. The laughter and anger that followed stringed into friendship and brotherhood. He is also known for his late reflexes which resulted in ---- to bulb, tube light, iron box making him desirable by lot of young girls for his innocence. May it was ‘this’ that led to ‘that’ day when a certain ‘desirous’ sat right next to him. Awwwwww!!! He loves repeating sentences like ‘What did you say at that time’ zillion times after few gulps of an nepenthe. All this changed for a short period when we turned to newer roads resulting in his death wish to speak ‘Hindi’. I don’t have to say why… you all can guess, but all he learnt was ‘muh bandh kar’. Phew!!! At this rate, I don’t see any hopes of a double future…. Wake up bro!!!

Droopie: From the land of camels, he has become one of the important members of the eating community. Appreciates food and also follows WCCs footsteps occassionally. Reserved and lost in his own world of calculations, he is a workaholic. A father to a beautiful child (which was a surprise) probably accounts for his deep sleep during the travel, heads home for extra work at his shop. We are lucky in a way as who knows… in the future, he’ll have chains of his store in the city, and we, proud owners of products with big discounts – Buy 1 and get 10 free!!!

Savei: Quiet with no signs of emotions on those flawless cheeks.. this was her first appearance. Born in my very own (humid) city, this dauntless articulator loves talking, reading and again, eating (a proud member of the eating community). Appreciates yum food ranging from potato crisps, oil soaked bondas and a steamed sweet corn. Hmm… am getting hungry now… She is the only one to share few words with Droopie when he’s awake. Well, as my cab is dominated by women, discussions are more with the ladies than the lost gentlemen. Open in thoughts and words, differs her from many of the people behind the grey walls and having her in our lot is quite interesting.

Chinna Mami: Another city babe and the newest chirper, inspired eyes of boredom (you all know who this is being referred to). With a close resemblance to one of my P. G lecturers, she can amaze you with her sweet talks. A good articulator and spectacularly sportive by nature, she spends a lot of time under the shadows of the great mami and yes folks, she’s the immersion rod, the rod used for heating water in the bucket, a lower version of iron box and definitely ‘under qualified’ for a future in the eating committee. She’s also a filter, letting through a comparatively less of what she filters (4), believing heat for the outcome than the uploads..

Thenga Mami: Born in the land of thengas (Kerala) in a place under Kollam district, she immediately moved to T.N. to kill (kollarey) my tamizh bro named Toni. A mirror image of a mami, she sits silently like a round ball in the second last seat, having a kerchief for her ‘always’ blocked invisible nose. Subtle mornings soon gets replaced with a charged avatar. Loves talking again but what will intrigue you is her movements. He rounds plump hands leaves you spellbound, forcing you to admire her and the intensity of those smiles when she utters her love story, stories from her childhood or a gossip at office, swaying her hands beautifully in air or the seat…Oh la la!!! Oh yes, she also loves eating, rubbing hands (am not saying why here) and is an expert at making nakaras, solving the puzzle to ‘why tamizh guys marry a thenga kutty’ (oh, I didn’t mention it, she married our naatu paiyyen). Emotional and humorous, she charms us all.. Stop acid vakrufying now. I wonder if the boys in her floor are able to concentrate on work… Hmm!!!! Toni Beware, Keep an eye on this thenga kutty!!!

Guruji: Ironed cotton salwars, kumkum on the forehead, neatly plaited hair and nose stud, are her initial strikes. There has been a confusion about Guruji, my guruji’s POB. Some think she’s from the land of spices and gongura pickle (Andhra Pradhesh) while she is a native of the land of swamys (kuppuswamy, karappuswamy, muthuswamy…. Swamy, Swamy and more Swamy’s). Good things come in small packages, and so does she. She’s the 1000 ladi of the cab, silent for long suddenly bursting with an array of words and laughter’s. Romantic and Emotional, she teaches songs like ‘Alaipayuthey’-

Alaipayuthey Kannaa En Manam Alaipayuthey (2)
Aanandha Moagana Vaenu GaanamadhilAlaipayuthey (2)
Alaipayuthey Kannaa En Manam Alaipayuthey (2) stretch……..

and loves the song ‘Vaanga Periamma’ especially ‘Udit Narayan’. Holidaying on Fridays is on her top list of ‘The To Do’ book followed by a regular visit to the Amman temple, she sure is a package of surprises. Wanna call her out? Invite her for your reception or marriage? Wanna shop, and want her to join??? Forget it, she hates going out and literally is never seen on any occasions with her boss washing his hands off after multiple attempts to drive her into extracurricular activities. Everything just crashed!! Spotting the plastic box near those ears is needless to say and appreciating life through the forest of uncertainty puts your spirit up. If you have any niece or nephews, contact her. She could be your instant substitute for a baby sitter or part time mom. I know where I will need to go in the future…Hmmm!!!

We had more back then, but as time flew so did they… to a different cab or greener pastures or just got married. Competitors to the latest singing sensations were the golden Jesh, Hrits, Maathe Gaar with a deafening ‘Pehla nasha’, to the dance guru’s like Prabhu Deva and Hrithik Roshans were the flexible Nammam, to the strong views of a power packed Indian women were G’s, S’s and M’s, to a romatic era of Heer-Ranja and Laila-Majnu were the tear breaking scenes of Yanans, WCC, Nuts, Jesh and Nammam….. Gone are those lovely days..SIGH!!!

OCs are also not alien to us. We’ve had many in the past but it was the regular OC ‘the lead’ of ‘Malai thandi Varuvaaya’, was a favorite time pass of all, jamming the back seat with his killer appearance (funny looks and ‘Onna panna modiyaadu’), fighting for his love with WCC(they share a common love interest ---- the noodles). You all will be cordially invited to watch the much awaited preview of this epic movie soon under ‘VJ productions’ on few of the locals channels like Sun/ Jaya/Vijay T.V. As the website is under construction, online booking is impossible but then again, don’t worry… books your tickets with your posts right here.

Adios, see you all at the premier !!!

Tapping to a green milieu

A hormonal twitch embellishes your very existence on discovering a new milieu, ideated over and over and over its existence, in search of withholding doors of ancient secrets. The excitement seems ineffable lost between anxiety and curiousness. Dreams of the future leaves your mind restless. Thoughts of where you would head, what will you do, what you would wear or what you would shop, are just the beginning to a rain of questions and virtual images. It can numb you till you find yourself to feet’s of determination. This was the onset of my first travel to two of the beautiful cities in Karnataka – Coorg and Mysore.

Mysore:
Famously known as the city of ‘Tipu Sultan’, wrecked the staggered slumber on the very first email by the company’s events team. Though relatively close to each other (TN and Karnataka), not many prefer crusading a path of rejuvenation. Nevertheless, it was something which caught a lot of attention. The start of this journey was boarding the 4am train. On board, running wheels, turbulent seats, and all you can hear is the high spirited chit-chattering amongst the ELS filled boogies. Crossing Bangalore was painful where my eyes spot the very place I saw my Pot with flowers in her hand, followed by a final halt at the Mangalore station.

On reaching the hotel, a sumptuous meal and a quick change withdrew the lagged body at the entrance of the historical ‘Mysore Palace’. As the saying goes, old is gold, the palace carried the poise of the yesteryear's, the elegance of the craftsmanship and the inspiration of the epic. Grasping onto every minute of adulation ended with the memory of a golden palace back to the reservoir of deep slumber.

Coorg:
Still at Mysore, the morning started with an eager look at the sunrise in the balcony. Along with 2 of my friends, we set our suryanamaskars by few kicks in the air, deep inhales, secret chats and captures of nature. Past 8am trailed a journey to the beautiful hills of the evergreen Coorg. Lots to see and little time with us first stopping at the ‘Brindavan Gardens’, - my first introduction to the dancing falls.

The set up dazzled the patchy sky with its dancing waters accompanied by rays of colors and music to an audience of mixed cultures. The nights stay soon shadowed in the arms of a cottage house owned by an old retd. Col. Homemade dinner and a bonfire defined the term vacation with a cozy mattress on the floor waiting to bear the tiny soul. The cottage had wooden beds, more of a dormitory than a bedroom with me tucking under a woolen blanket with no electricity, most importantly no computers!!!

Early morning…. and I find myself with my close friend outside playing with the house dogs. Minutes went by and we found ourselves in front of a gang from my department. As believed, early birds get the worms, so did we as we began our short walk through the hills to a directionless road. Frogs, worms, scorpions, snakes and colored insects whose names I don’t know and never seen, filled the moist atmosphere with life. Naked fog waved across the hills and brushed our brown faces while many white birds flying high. Everything was so perfect!!! There wasn’t any noise, any pollution, any concrete buildings, any smoke, any work, and no stress except serenity. The locals were a splendor in their own way living a simple lifestyle away from the boggles of life. Around our return at 7am, we were informed about the stream nearby. Groups of men and women parted to the two different sections of stream, immersing under the chill waters of a far waterfall. After the bath, it was time to visit the elephant sanctuary. Our travel comprised more of travelling in the 4 wheeled coach making our destinations few. Now, don’t get it wrong. It was still worth it!
I don’t want a ride: What interested me the most was the voyage on a small boat as the elephants were housed at the other end of the rough river. The gushing flow of Cauvery marked the monsoon bless and a view I still miss. While few of my colleagues enjoyed the ride on their broad backs, I preferred watching the peaceful animal being fed by its mahout. Guess what, I also drove the courage to stand next to it, caressing the rough trunk of the gentle beast. Though elephants are not new to us (particularly Tamilians), this feeling was different. Here was a massively sized animal known for its delicate walk along with its comrades in a forest. It wasn’t a temple where it had to bless those who offered a coin and neither was it a zoo. It was free but with humans.
It was now time to capsize our findings of the city, the life, the beauty and nature in its true form, which each of us did in the form of a memory, a picture or few words in a tiny book (and me on blogger)... On the way back to the Mangalore station, we bought souvenirs for our loved ones and some for us, to remind us of our short and sweet trip. Moving forward, I do intend to visit the cities once again in my life and learn so much from what our ancestors did and how we are doing now. As I end this, I hope you all could find yourself mapping them in your next vacation list. Have fun as much I did!!!

Contusions: Summing another feeble

Referring back to couple of articles in the newspaper, magazines and television shows, has undoubtedly grimed my outlook at our existing judicial system and maintenance of law and order within the country. My learning is, however good a nation is, be it developed, developing or under-developed, the bead which strings them together is the worst form of savage treatment on women – Rape. With laws being revised and many organizations formed to protect the so called weaker sex, there haven’t been any salient changes. Women have always been tortured, tormented and cannibalized in the past, the present and the trend seems to have no end. Future is far away with dim hopes of a candescent life. From a young age, I have been told about the harsh realities of life. Articles in newspapers, talks with peers and lectures by teachers, opened a gateway to the insecurities faced by woman. Age doesn’t restrict any form of attack here especially when it comes to rape. Endless articles on minors from 2-3 yrs old toddlers to a 70 yr old woman, the bottom line is ‘it’s always a woman’, raped again and again and again. They are cornered, abducted, beaten, raped (several times by one or group of men) and murdered or simply thrown into prostitution. For a 2 year old, a life which should have started in the arms of a nursing and caring mother, begins with physical abuse ‘growing’ as the ‘little she’ grows, teen ages and withers into a young woman thriving on peanuts given by those who own her, sell her. Marriage is a taboo or a magical word in a fairy land of the strong with her abandoning the quest for a long lost soul forever. She dies without earning an ounce of happiness or love, seeing many of her little counterparts following the very path. Years back on one summer vacation in Bhopal introduced the term “Rape” in my fragile mind. A drunken father rapes his teenage daughter after his wife left for the market. On coming back home, the mother finds her husband outside, sitting in front of the house, only to see a horrid sight of her daughter hanging from a fan. Then there was another story of a nun being brutally harassed and gang raped in Bareilly. The worst which hit me was the rape and murder of 2 kids in Delhi. It was this story that stalled me from seeking help from strangers. The children, a boy and girl scheduled for a radio show in Delhi, took lift from 2 men in an Ambassador. Little did they know that this day was going to be their last. A frantic search throughout the city was followed by many supporters from the school, finally leading to the culprits. When questioned about the event, it was found that the children were taken to a forest, raped and murdered with multiple stabs by a knife in the body. Imagine looking at a site with your child lying naked, bruised, stabbed multiple times, raped god knows how many times, with blood smearing the entire space. I believe it was the first time, the Indian court allowed anyone (parents) to watch a prosecution and death of those (culprits) who had taken away their life (children).
The serial Bhanvar on Sony reflected stories long forgotten like the serial now. Most endings would be with ‘awaiting decision’ or ‘granted bail’. We have the Rucha’s, Priyadarshini, Jessica lals… What’s the bloody point? Justice has been compromised and denied in all cases to those who underwent the misery, who are now no longer with us, having a circle of loved ones continuing a battle of justice. The families have nothing but a bleak hope, for how long, is a question. Reality Check: Did you know that a rape convict is sentenced to only 7 years of imprisonment? Is this justifiable? Is 7 years enough to minutes or days of physical and mental pain? Is the 7 years enough for the bruise to heal or the scars to vanish? Is the 7 years enough for the every minute spent in a dark room or a cornered room where sleep is nothing but a nightmare? Is 7 years enough for the agony of her fragile mind and crushed soul, who wonders if anyone is lurking around to strike bad, and if she will be able to come out of that flight if caught? Is the 7 years enough to a rain of tears, anger, hatred, worthlessness or immense trepidation? Is the 7 years enough for those attached to the victim to help her out of it? Is the 7 years really enough? How many women are able to come out of it? Do all live a happy or a normal life? Are they able to trust a man however genuine he may be? Do they battle out their fears by coming out in the open with heads held high, lit with confidence and strength? How does the society treat or accept them? Are they given a second chance like marriage? What goes through their vein on hearing about another raped girl? How far are they able to trust the police or law in general? What runs in their grey matter or retina on the thought or sight of their convict being released after 7 years or bailed or worse, allowed to wander freely due to lack of evidence? Does this kind of act taken seriously by those running our country? Many questions are still unanswered ….. My question: Would death penalty stop the lustful eyes from committing a sin, a sin of taking a childhood, a sin of remorse of being born as a woman and a sin of being feeble by a woman, would it really put a stop to it? When we have a death penalty for killing someone, stealing someone’s right to life, why is that different from a rape? Why aren’t the rapists tortured, circumcised or allowed to hang from a ceiling till their last breath? Why isn’t rape considered a crime, a serious offense or a sin? It’s time when people take this seriously. We don’t want any more women pleading for help or justice; neither do we want them to yelp for equality or freedom. We have rights to a life of choice not hovered by masks of rummaging eyes. We need to treat the very inchoate thoughts, with a strike of stronger laws, power and outcast the deemed famished eaters of flesh. Think about it!!!

Rattling commuters or cylinders

Walking past my colleagues at work, I realized its just not the ‘out of shape’ me adding to the list of unhealthy or malnourished aimless souls but many, whom I know and don’t know. Rows of seated genders saccading every letter on the keyboard, monitor and time, wondering if the deliverables will be met along with a not so long yet, anticipated encouraging email from the manager. Toggling between home and office life streams through the paid hours, slendering thoughts at a narrow end. Concentration here is a battle. Phufff !!!!

Life isnt that bad after all. Relaxation does come into our real life of a devoted wife or a daughter during the long back and forth commute. As most IT companies or MNCs are located on the outskirts of the city, irreversing the possibility of a short travel is ruled out. To eke out an refreshing twirl during the rolling tyres is initiated at the very strike of 5:30pm on our monitor with a speedy pack of our belongings and rush like ‘famished children to a candy story’ to our dear cab, lining horizontally at the building sideline.

Initiation:
The usual settling down succumbs as the wheels run, soon overtaken by varied noise of different frequencies. Our interesting start happens with the usual ‘who said this to whom’, ‘what she/he did’ and blah blah blah… Once the office gossips is over, our focus shifts towards thrilling activities which flies through:

Ø Eating
Who doesn’t love it? Once an adulated me is now replaced by the term ‘obese’. Why? For starters, we have a food court in the ground floor. Now a food court like the name suggests, is a big court with many food outlets serving vegetarian to non-vegetarian, Indian to continental, punjabi to madrasi cuisines. Did I forget to add the junk part of it? Naaaaaaaaaaaa, we also have burgers, fries and colas of McDonalds to KFCs. Subway is a way cornered, visited by few as well. The ‘Nuts and Spices’ corner is an oasis in the epicentre of a busy comb of employees from top notched companies marked with sweets and savouries of all kinds, from all parts of the country and world. Infiltrated with youngsters who need to keep fit by eating healthy food, binge on the layers of food stacks of all kinds. Money doesn’t seem to prevent the buy resulting in a huge pile of cholestrol lurking nearby, inside.

This is just not it. We do get to stop somewhere on the way when the sky is too heavy and roads horribly busy, sneaking into ‘Kerala chips’ for bags of crispy and crunchy ‘salted’ and/or ‘spicy’ potato chips, banana chips with murukku at times or the ‘Murugan Idli Shop’ for a mouth watering treat of ‘small, round, steamy, fluffy, white, spongy idlis with 3 varieties of chutney, podi, hole wada, chakara pongal and filter coffee with jigargandha as the dessert (liked by Kalkaand). The bajji’s of potato, onion and banana doesn’t lose its position in the battle of ‘I want to be eaten’. It sways itself with contemptness to the round belly, slowly forming the yellow layer soon to stay as a permanent member when bought from the local cart outside office, venkateshwara poli stall or the stall near kerala chips. For a change, the steamed corn too makes an entry with its tangy coating of chilli powder, salt and lemon juice. Then again, nothing is more tastier than a fry, be it potato bajji or chips and personally for me, the 'Murugan Idlis'tops the list.
P.S: this is the cause for the transformation of a curved structure to a cylinder.

Ø Singing
From ‘aleypayuthe’ to ‘mungare male’ to ‘o my friend’ to ‘heal the world’ to ‘papa kehte hain or a pehla nasha’, the list is endless. We play a game called antakshari too singing like nomads at the top of our voice, deafening the other with mixed expressions and actions. Our audience, those who travel by bus, auto, car, two-wheeler, pedestrian near the signal etc, the eyes just glare at the courage and melody of our vocal chord stinging us with a ‘we want more’ look. I wonder where is Rahman and Shankar, Ehsan, Loy.

Ø Debate
Topics of any kind. A movie watched recently, a television series, something from NGC or discovery, diseases, life, guys and their ill attitude, places, corruption with politics, animal welfare, sewage systems and what not. Annoying shows of a Rakhi Sawant to a pompous ‘Karan Johar’, Ageing ‘Rajani or Amitabh’ to a we are bored ‘Give new talent a chance’ for a change, endless flights of the ‘Congress to the BJP’, corruption in ‘politics’ to the scams in the ‘army’, kidnaps of minors to rapes of women by protectors, raging waters to forest fires and dry lands, pollution of nature to system to people, What will I do If I was given a chance to make the country better to whom will I sack first for all our demerits, just name it and we have it all… am tired now.. my list could go on and on and on!!!

Ø Dumbcharades
We divide ourselves in groups of two, one member enacts, while the others guesses. It’s a short and sweet game with few members like our fraud wcc texting the answer through his mobile to his teammates.. what a cheater….Grrrr!!!

Ø 20 questions game
Each one has to think of a famous personality. The first one will start by playing dumb giving only a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ as answer. The others will have to guess the personality’s name by asking questions. E.g. if you think of hitler, I can ask you 20 questions like –
1) Is this person an Indian?;
2) Is this person a man or a woman?;
3) Does this person act in movies?

Ø Sight seeing
Tired of all that, lets see whats outside. Wait I can see a couple on a bike, a dog scratching his ears or looking at a human with its ‘die for’ eyes asking for some food, women fights near the water tank with beautiful colored baskets on their hips, an old couple holding hands and crossing the road, cranes or parrots flying around or above you, sky-scrappers, ads, food stalls..and what not.. It’s the time to notice something which nowadays we hardly have the time or patience to do.

My cab truly falls under the category of ‘National Integration’. It’s a mix of culture, cuisines and craziness. We have members from the northern and southern parts on India with few who have travelled distant lands within the country. ‘Amazing’ is a peek at the others life, their city, school, bringing up, parents, most interestingly crushes and love outside and within the office (if at all). Life doesn’t seem to hault and travelling never seeks boredom. Its strange with the amout of time we’ve spent with eachother, lots are archived waiting to be discovered. In the meantime, you could think of what you do or could do. Post your ideas here and help me in having more interactive sessions with my cabmates.

Adios commuters !!!

The Kite Runner

3 days of Diwali holidays and all I could think was my next book in queue to parse my boredom with words of imagination and wisdom. Which one was it? Well, it was ‘The Kite Runner’, a book by Khaled Hosseini, author of ‘A thousand splendid suns’ whose cover of a little boy trying to peek through a dark room caught my kvetching eyes. Without any vindication of my latest interest in his books, ‘The Kite Runner’ for me was indeed a page turner. Every chapter brought in new plots interwined with ‘friendship’, ‘loyalty’, ‘love’, ‘happiness’, ‘innocence’ and ‘helplessness’, ‘inhumaness’, ‘heartlessness’, ‘pain’, ‘misery’ with ‘abuse of all kind’.

What started as a story of an inseparable friendship and loyalty between ‘Amir’ and ‘Hassan’ from a tender age of birth to teen, might remind you of your childhood days, of your bestfriends, of that innocence and mischiefs. It’s the sheer love that connects you to that lane of golden memories even now irrespective of how old you grow or where you are. An unfortunate incident breaks the transparency between the two young boys leaving an unhealing scar till the very end with a glimpse of Taliban rule portrayed and evinced eloquently placing you amid the violence and chaos in the country by a group of men who I believed played God.

It’s sad to see one side of the world springing with new technology, rights to liberty and speech, equality, power, etc, all for the use of mankind while the other side, the darker side like that of earth not facing the sun, filled with cruelty, worthlessness, misery, tears of blood. Sitting comfortably at home with all the priviledges, mussitating words of forgiveness and mercy to those killing for fun could never describe or experience the torments and trauma cored to the very nucleas of the soul. It is difficult! Very much difficult!!! Many a times, we think of life in the good old days where people catered to their problems or their neighbours, where law and order were maintained, respected and feared. These days nothing of that really matters. Killing has become a hunting game of humans than animals. Beheading an innocent, raping little boys and girls, chopping off body parts, feeding dogs live yet, severly wounded humans, stripping and strangling a person, shooting a bullet through the temple, shaving the head of a woman followed by charring her to ashes watched by hungry eyes of lust and evil… the list just wouldn’t end!!! The so called ‘Bad’ people always find different ways to torture and humiliate the weak and innocent. The adrenaline rush would probably be flowing like a turbulent sea striking the shores with full throttle numbing the sense of sympathy and empathy. What should really be done to such kind of people is what those going through or undergone only have the right to answer but never live past it. Do they ever think of what will happen to them after death or do they even believe in God? Well, looks like only God knows the answer to such a question, while others, hope for serene future.

Favorite Quotes:
It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime..."

"There is only one sin. and that is theft... when you tell a lie, you steal someones right to the truth."

"it always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place."

"When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness."

"I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away."

Oh…My…Weight !!!!

Gone are the days,
When my stomach was young and jammed,
Gone are the friends,
Who were larger than my only fans,
Gone are the smiles,
To a regime of gym and diets ,
Here I am again,
tormenting over my weight gain !!!

WEIGHT !!! Believe it or not, it is the most feared and obsessed ‘disease’ as I would call it. Nothing could be worse than an increase in your waistline, chubbiness of those smooth cheeks, slender biceps turning into an elephant trunk and legs swelling up into a rectangle. On the whole, it just makes you shapeless. To your loved ones, you are nothing but ‘healthy’ while the world sees you as another fat soul burdening the earths crust.

Some would suggest heading to the nearby gym, shedding those calories and rendering into a better self. Few suggest ‘dieting’. You know what, it is not easy. Take me for example. I have always wanted to be in good shape without having to feel slightly embarrassed or low in front of my many friends who have such great bodies and beautiful curves. This kind of feeling my friends, is called the ‘Inferiority Complex’.

Every time I see them, this is the only thought niggling my bone driving my tiny head insane. Shopping with them couldn’t be worse. Imagine falling in love with the prettiest outfit hung on a mannequin only to be worn by your friend as you didn’t ‘fit in’. You might get a larger size of the exact dress which would fit you but, don’t forget, your friend is also wearing the same piece in a ‘smaller size’. Ouch!!! Jealousy is a term you just cannot ignore which gets rooted to your very core. Its tough, tough and very tough!!!

I have done a lot of things. Tried Swimming, Jogging, Exercises…What not??? Phew!!! Now all I have is ‘Osteomalacia’, a goodbye to my days of keeping fit. Diet was never in my chart. Common, I cannot imagine a world without potatoes or chocolates. I literally eat them daily. These days I can say that I have kept my addiction under control. Still, do I see any results? No. A big Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo. My mom has off late been yelling at me a lot. Like I said earlier, to your loved ones you always look the same or leaner. You are never ‘fat’ for them. My mom falls under that category. She has always wanted me to be like Kajol (an actress, a roly poly and my fav too). I come from a mixed background of culture, cuisines and beliefs. My intake ranges from eating idli and chutney to aloo ke paratey, sambar-rice to rajma-chawal, curd-rice to veg-biriyani, thanjavur poli to gajar ka halwa, murukkus to jalebis and hot samosas. My list could go on and on and on. Even though I promise myself daily to control my pounce, rebounding is never un-announced. This is a disaster of massive immeasurable proportions.. HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!

One thing about India is we learn a lot and respect other cultures and ‘Foooooooooooood’ is the first thing which intrigues you. Breads, Cornflakes, Musselli, Oats… wow, a fantastic creation and a miracle for all those working women, tastes yum but occassionally in my case. Let’s take today as an example, I had oats with milk. I know, I know. It’s good, nutritious and has a lot of fibre. The combined flavor and nutrients from both make a complete balanced diet. I get it people, really do, but every spoon that went down my food pipe replinished memories and images of parathas in desi ghee served with curd and pickle or the tiny idli’s soaked in a pool of sambar. Seriously, it was tough eating and sulking at the same time. Now how am I going to battle out this problem is something I need to work upon. Sigh!!! May be I’ll just go and have a samosa first and then we all could think of a solution. ;)

Weekend Mania!!!!

So folks, what is it that you love about the weekends? Uhhhh, lemme see, Is it the gifted 48hrs of slumber, of treating yourself like a Queen or worse, more work? Lolz!!! To me it is where I can spend hours sleeping late in the morning. Doesn’t it feel good waking up on your own free-will without worrying about heading to office, completing a new task or deadline, chit-chattering of colleagues on ‘she has an affair with xxx, ‘he eloped with his friends wife’, ‘he still pees and stinks’ or something better like ‘new guy in the block’. ‘clothes and apparels at an affordable rate’, ‘new tries at looking different from the other’ or ‘blooming of young love’? Everything is a movie, only sophisticated yet, boring.

Life seems so bustled with talks throughout. Heading home is what everyone loves. Why? To spring onto that long stretch of wood crafted symmetrically coated with stocks of soft cotton piled vertically. Minutes of contact on that spongy surface feels heaven, numbing your ached feet, hands, neck with your slender back topping the list. You look up at the moving blades working its way to cool you down or watch the shadows of leaves playing hide and seek. Soon, you forget about all this, soothing and drooping your little soul.

Next day, Sunday. Is it different? Nopes... It’s Sleep, sleep and more sleep. Nothing compares to those hours of laziness with you craving for more. The alarm is long put away behind those cupboards or high up on a shelf only to be taken out again. I wonder how many of you had fallen off your cots while dreaming of castles and knights in shining armour. Thinking of it, I really don’t remember falling even once, not that I wanted to or wish for. Hurting those adipose tissues would definitely send waves of reds and yells which, I don’t yearn.

Getting excited for another short weekend already???? Try to go out for some fun till it comes to a speedy end. Keep your fatigued thoughts in an oven while you just go and get all geared up once again. Cooking, cleaning, washing would abide by your task, what the heck, weekdays are not too far. Sum up your jiggling toes, winding in a nearby store. Give that soul a treat but please….. don’t go about eating meat.

Happy feasting or fasting!!!