Pain, how I know it

Today the pain is bad again. I have been through this before but that was long back. I thought I had conquered it. But no, it is as vulnerable, as fragile as a ligament, needs to be tended for life. I was trying the hit formula - pain shared is pain halved. To my dismay it doubled up, all those memories came flooding back. Endless nights of pillow sobbing, days of brooding, I thought had cured me of the ill. But no, it was always there, waiting for me to get weak.

I never talked of it because I thought it was silly to bring it up again and again. I was assured with years of endurance I had become emotionally and physically strong. Now when I look back I think confrontation would not have been a bad idea. It could have been a outlet for all that is simmering in. One major reason why I could not encroach the territory was I felt weak and timid. I was afraid I would relent and portray myself as a looser. I was wrong. Draining the dirt out is a viable option always.

Pain can be all sorts and colors. Emotional, physical, mental, all increasingly worse. They are differentiated by the cure, physical pain can be cured. Emotional needs you to cure it. It is more a matter of trial and error. Not necessary one tip fits all.

I am still lurking without success. The pain of letting go is scariest. Even the happy memories will make you sad. All one can do is keep evading till time shadows it. Ridding oneself of Pain is a lifetime engagement.

Nonetheless I am not a quitter either.

Dum Maro Dum

*** - gritty movie
Well...I do not have a reason why one should go and watch this thriller drama infused with hints of Indian melodrama. 

I was more drawn by the imposing Rana Daggubati and the sizzling item number. I came out of the theatre more glossy, glitzy and edgy. The movie held me back for the entire duration. The screenplay was definitely not a award winner. Despite the loose strings the actors managed to hold it there. Abhishek Bachchan suits in the role of a cop on a mission of cleaning Goa, Rana, the idealist Indian hero, who plays a singer in the movie, Bips does not have much to do but manages to impress, the heart goes out to Pratiek Babbar who has been trapped by the drug mafia and is on the verge of loosing his girlfriend and family.

The sun kissed beaches of Goa have been depicted as the hub of narcotics. Rohan Sippy has well captured the essence of national Party capital. The dialogues are snappy and the music hummable.

The movie is fit for people looking for a escape from the daily frenzy and wanting to just DUM MARO DUM.

Memoirs of a distressed soul

Since the last few days I have been planning to write my next blog. I was tied up not with the demands of business, rather to the current frame of my mind.  How I recalled the subject of this blog is an interesting story. I was chatting to an old friend in the morning. She brought up the subject of memory lapse saying this morning she was about to put lipstick in her eyes.

You guessed it right!!! Off late I have taken on to forgetting. I pick up an idea only to forget it in seconds. The spell is causing me a lot of troubles and is a source of embarassement in many a situations.

Just today I wore my chappals on my business suit and walked till the parking. It was only when I kick started my bike that I realised my blunder. By the time I went up again and reached office I was late for my meeting. I was mortified to hear my boss ask What was it that I forgot this day.

I can also attribute my latest mania to the company of humans surrounding me. While writing the blog I thought it would take the lime light off me if I include the anecdotes of my friends as well. I turned to two of my 'friends in need' to bail me out. Now it would not be out of order to mention that these women have always proved handy in saving my distressed soul. I wrote to both of them to narrate similar incidents. Here I am waiting and waiting without any reply. I pick up my phone and take them to task for delaying the reply. To much of my chagrin one of them admits to have had ample of such situations but now she has simply forgotten about them. And the other even better forgot to check her inbox post the beep.

The ailment is taking me places- I have been forgetting important dates (including my sister's bday), appointments (one to the doctor for the same not ruled out), routine chores (as daily as eating lunch, brushing teeth and the worst wearing shirt under my coat).

I have tried all advices made to me right from eating almonds to concentrating on a point on the wall opposite my chair. Yeah.....that was the weirdest of all and my team next door thought I had forgotten to move. I know you are having a hearty laugh at the cost of a poor me, but mind it, some of the celebrated glitterati knew the same pain. Albert Einstien is well renowned for his forgetfulness. He would forget umbrellas, dates and many more. Marlyn Monroe, the heartthrob, would forget her lines, schedules, even her love intrests at times. The reads have been enough to console and raise my bruised spirit. Forgetting the trivia gives one more brain space for logic and rationale.

However one interesting thing that has happened to me amidst all this forgetting business is.......is.........is..........err....ummmm.....guess I will mention it in the next blog.

Sshhhh, please don't tell anyone I again forgot.

No lights, no camera....all action

Last few days were big time action for me on all fronts.

For those who follow the news channels, there was a spark in the sauna of my hotel which fired big time sarkari halla. Hotel was sealed for 2 days. We were all out enjoying the Indian victory of the cup that counts. Readers need not be amazed at my indifference, I was always sure of hotel coming back with a bang......gave me the much needed break in between.

The hotel opened with the big shots of area office paying a flying visit, an enquiry of a hotel colleague calling some unknown girl at midnight from the hotel landline and an accident of a fellow colleague. Too much happening within days. No wonder we are planning a pooja to settle our planetary confusions ;). Amidst all this, one person who failed to sympathize with my back to back schedule was my mother. She could not have chosen a better time to line up two prospective grooms for her daughter.  As is true of all mothers they pick up timings with sigma precision. The will constantly nag you till such time as you either select or reject the prospects.

Make a choice, O Mortal, for thy cord is attached to thy mother. What options do you have.....jobs may be countless but not the other way round. As is expected of all obedient girls I still found time to stand all questions which are the plight of a girl my age. Note few of them along with my answers

• What are your expectations of a life partner? I am expecting a Richard Gere in BMW, if you are not, F*** off. But all I utter is no expectations, they ruin the joy. Nonsenssee
• What do you do if you see me with a girl after marriage? Bullshit.......you will keep searching me for a answer. I choose to say.....I will wait for you to tell me, I am not the type.
• Do you expect gifts on all silly occasions? Are you doubtful of me being a girl......I already have my list ready. I plead...no no they are all waste of money, I prefer saving them for future. (there is no future without a gift)
• This is the wierdest of all....how many pair of sandals do you have? Oh.....just one and that is the truth. I am waiting for money inflow from the other side to fill my cupboard geeee.

All this and many more. I am now a certified champ of " How to get a no from a husband you don't want".

Through the entire saga of drama one good thing I managed was ' F.A.L.T.U.' A film that deals with a cliche subject but a novel execution. Some fresh faces and refreshing music. I loved it to the core. The climax seemed a little too abrupt with the education minister announcing the recognition of Fakirchand and lakirchand trust university at a college function. When did the Indian bureaucracy become that magnanimous and effecient. Probably I was contrasting it with the sarkari bugger who tore my hotel's fire license amidst much of media frenzy to the endless chorus of 'ENCORE'. It was akin to Poonam pandey strip act post the world cup. No one ever got to saw it. It took us two days and countless pair of Bata shoes to get it back. Of course did not get to see a single media coverage of the hotel being reopened. Probably the media was on a long break post the barrage of negative publicity they honored us with on the short ' short circuit' in the Sauna.

I care two hoots......am too busy singing

' Aaltu jalal tu, ayi bala ko taal tu'

tension vension chod de bachcha,

ho ja fully FALTU'

1 khoon or wo bhi maaf

It is not daily that I have this intense desire to murder people around. No, I am not a psycopath on run, but how do you justify hard earned money lost on some horrible flick that was awaited for soooo long. The movie tickets were not so expensive but tickets half used.......irk.

Me and my folks stole some important time from work to watch Saat khoon maaf. The first five minutes....and we were looking left right centre wondering if we were the only ones seething with anger for the entire crew of the film. It could have been a experimental genre, but is there no law on experiments going haywire!!! Such backfiring inventions should never be allowed to see daylight. Eureka!! now I realise why the entire movie was shot in the dark.

How can someone marry the first person at sight.....is it a gun point swayamavar, we are talking about. The canvas of the movie is as diverse as the Food court of delhi haat. From a possesive one legged army man to an old fashioned natural pharmacist.......she tries em all. She even tries out her godson for that matter. God must have stopped producing such unfortunate women around .....seven husbands and none of them work. Aren't we living in an age of tough competition where everything comes guaranteed and can be exchanged failing to work. Her husbands were not even chinese.

Gee.........jokes apart.......the movie tests your patience like the promises of a parent to a kid. It is a truly disappointing venture on part of Vishal Bhardwaj. No mercy Vishal......they are all out there to murder you.

Valentine's day

I feel like a million tonight…….one at a time please!!

These words aptly describe the sense of euphoria engulfing every youth on the eve of Valentine’s Day.
St. Valentine was truly a saint to fill the world with so much of love in one single day trespassing all boundaries across all nations.

I choose this day to write a letter to my Valentine. I am not a big fan of open letters but this one is from all those out there who are afraid of falling in love just because of the sheer abundance of product and subsequent duplicity.


Dear Valentine

Let me begin with I like you. I like you because it is too early for me to fall in love. I know what it is all about. Yeah sure every time I see you my knees go weak, I have butterflies in my stomach, my entire anatomy goes haywire. More still all those sexy flicks do an action replay in my mind with both of us in lead roles. Exactly, any mad person can see it is love. But I choose to deny it. Denial is the best form of aversion.

You want to know why…. I am afraid we are here just because it is a Valentine’s night. You needed someone to enjoy the day and celebrate the night with. Probably you do it every year. Believe me, this is the first time for me. The V day is not a big deal but you definitely are.

Throughout my growing years I have seen enough such days. My conclusion, if heart breaks were to be numbered we would need to reinvent exactly three times more the count known to mankind today. For every successful Valentine there are five more who need counseling and days of attention.

All this just because we have so much of love to give that it could be taken up as full time employment or business…. Pyaar do Pyaar lo.

However I am willing to give it a try. Share markets have taught me, ‘ the more the risks the better the returns. I am willing to invest monetarily in all those silly cakes, flowers, gifts and physically in all those French kisses, Spanish body caresses, English seductions.

Anyways while we are here let me tell you my story of true love. I met him at a common friend’s place. I never believed in love at first sight before that, just could not take my eyes off him. How playful he was, making everyone around him laugh, giggle and utter words of affection. When it came to his looks he was tanned, well built for those of his age and above all had eyes which captured. We have been together ever since.
I hug him to sleep every night and he kisses me morning every day. There has not been a single instance when we fought because we trust each other blindly. A slight headache for me and he is by my bedside the entire night. He can’t see me upset. He hesitates the least in picking up fights with people who do that to me. I can spend my entire life in his eyes for I see so much of myself there. The world jibes at me for our mutual admiration. Can’t help….love is blind.

Jealous, confused!! Please don’t be. Of course, I was preaching the need for one love and no, I am not two timing you. It’s just that there are times when I feel the need for a man or else I could spend my entire life with a Dog….bosco, the only steady man in my life.

Why can’t we all take back some learning from these silent creatures? Neither are they human nor are they literate but aren’t they better off.

Don’t love me for fun, let me be the only one.

Love me for a reason, let the reason be love.

P.S. For every instance of trust that you plant I will return heaps of love.


Lovingly yours

Valentine- today, tomorrow and forever.

Incredible India

This R- Day was an eventful day for me. The adventures began right from the clock ticking 12 midnight. The entire day gave me a number of reasons to be proud of the country envisioned by the likes of B.R. Ambedkar. 

I was to catch a train at 1 AM to my home town from Kota. Since I had my reservation in AC coach I did not carry any woollens with me and reached the station at 12.30 AM. No sooner had I located my platform that the divine voice boomed : "Train No. ......is late by 50 minutes. The inconvinience caused is deeply regreted". Here I was right in the middle of the night, at the corner of the station awaiting a delayed train clutching my bag to my body to save me from the harsh winter. I located a coffee kiosk nearby and bought myself one. The warmth of coffee reminded me of an old book - tea coffee or me. I just had coffee :( The clock struck 2 and the train was still awaited when the heavenly voice boomed again : " Train No..........is late by 1 hr 20 minutes. The inconvinience caused is deeply regreted". I swear to devil I have never cursed the power of speech more. Finally my train arrived at 3.30 AM and I boarded.

Scene 2: I have reached Udaipur at 9.00 AM in the morning and have to catch a bus to Ahmedabad at 4.00 PM in the evening. Before that I have to take my pneumonia ailing mother to a Doctor. I take her to the Doc at 12.00 cause the appointment is for 12.15. We wait in the long que wondering if all these people are before us or after us in line. At around 1.00 PM the patience of one patient is lost (wonder if patient was derived from patience) and he rings the bell. His plea for consultation is met by a ferocious looking Mrs. Doctor who barks saying "Doctor Sahab (not sure why all Doctor wives add that suffix.....we never wish to address them so) has some urgent work and hence he will not come to clinic today". Wow!!! we have even started celebrating a Doctor's day now....what more do they want from us. I take my mother back home promising her a telephonic consultation with a better doctor.

Scene 3 : It is 3.30 PM and I have left for the bus station. My colleague's family comes to pick me up as both of us are leaving for Ahmedabad together. On a very safe crossroad a biker comes zooming past and bangs in our car. BOOM!!! I am out of the BB IM chat sessions. I look up to find a tall black sloshed man with blood shot eyes and a cut on the lower lip picking up a fight with my colleague's dad. Like every other roadside drama there is a huge jam and a crowd of onlookers debating on the follies of rash driving. The drunk fellow has entered in a scuffle with the senior citizen and is abusing him physically and verbally. The traffic police present on the spot is very diligently performing their duties. One is picking up the motor bike to park it on the side and the other one is instructing my colleague's wife to take the car on the side. I shout at the policemen to do a better job of controlling the harassement. Boy oh!!! Did I shout at Indian police, I every bit deserve the 'daggers in the eye' cold stare. Some wise man is calling up the ' actual police'. 10 minutes have passed to the entire episode and we are all sitting locked inside the car surrounded by 'his' men (The gracious traffic police advised us so). Finally the police van arrives and murmurs something in uncle's ear. Uncle nods and asks the son to drive to the police station. I am lost and out of league. The idea given to us by the policeman is to mark an attendance in the station and that should pacify the other party. What's the harm. Yeah!!! what's the harm if that helps us in catching the bus on time. Finally we board the bus at 4.30 and heave a sigh of relief. Hang on!!! if I thought I could catch my breath I was seriously mistaken. The driver was a 'chela' of Rajnikanth. Yenna Rascala.....how dare any heavy vehicle shoot past me.... Iy yam tha fastesta. The entire stretch of 350 kms I sat with my heart in my throat telling god how much I love my family and how much would my mom love to see me getting married and produce babies. He owes at least this much to my parents.

I reached ahmedabad at 9.30 PM with a splitting head ache and a parched throat. Hardly did I realise I had not gulped a single drop of water in the six hours journey. I reach home, wash down a few Dispirins and fall flat on my bed.

HAPPY REPUBLIC DAY