Battle of the Sexes

Sure, you thought you already knew the different between a girl and a guy. But now I have conculsive proof! After countless hours of talking with my guy friends ( I have a lot of them I hang out with/ and also a lot of my girl friends) I have come up with the top 20 difference between us and MEN !!

1. RELATIONSHIPS:
First, a man does not call a relationship a relationship - he refers to it as "that time when me and Anita were dating on a semi-regular basis."
When a relationship ends, a woman will cry and pour her heart out to her girlfriends, and she will write a poem titled "All Men Are Idiots." Then she will get on with her life.
A man has a little more trouble letting go. Six months after the breakup -- at 3 am early on a Sunday morning -- he will call and say "I just wanted you to let you know you ruined my life, and I'll never forgive you, and I hate you, and you're a total floozy. But I want you to know there's always a chance for us." This is known as the "I Hate You/I Love You" drunken phone call, that 99% of all men have made at least once. There are community colleges that offer courses to help men get over this need; alas these classes rarely prove effective.

2. MATURITY:
Women mature much faster than men. Most 17-year-old females can function as adults.
Most 17-year-old males are still trading cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class. This is why high school romances rarely work out.

3. COMEDY:
Let's say a small group of men and women are in a room, watching television, and an episode of "The Great Indian Laughter Challenge" comes on. Immediately, the men will get very excited - they will laugh uproariously.
The women will roll their eyes and groan and wait it out.

4. HANDWRITING:
To their credit, men do not decorate their penmanship. They just chicken-scratch.
Women use scented, colored stationery and they dot their "i's" with circles and hearts. Women use ridiculously large loops in their "p's" and "g's." It is a royal pain to read a note from a woman. Even when she's dumping you, she'll put a smiley face at the end of the note.

5. BATHROOMS:
A man has at most six items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn.
The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.

6. GROCERIES:
A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes to the store and buys these things.
A man waits until the only items left in his fridge are half of a lemon, and something turning green. Then he goes grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. Of course, this will not stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.

7. GOING OUT:
When a man says he's ready to go out, it means he's ready to go out.
When a woman says she's ready to go out, it means that she WILL be ready to go out, as soon as she finds her other earring, finishes putting on her makeup...And men will never understand this, but all this pain is only for them.

8. SHOES:
When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, and then slip into Reebok sneakers. She will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When she arrives at work, she will put on her dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under her desk.
A man wears one pair of shoes for the entire day.

9. CATS:
Women love cats.
Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.

10. MIRRORS:
Men are vain; they will check themselves out in the mirror.
Women are ridiculous; they will check out their reflections in any shiny surface: mirrors, spoons, store windows, toasters,

11. JEWELRY:
Women look nice when they wear jewelry.
A man can get away with wearing one ring, and that's it. Any more than that, and he will look like a lounge singer named Vic.

12. MENOPAUSE:
When a woman reaches menopause, she goes through a variety of complicated emotional, psychological, and biological changes. The nature and degree of the changes varies with the individual.
Menopause in a man provokes a uniform reaction. He buys aviator glasses, a snazzy French cap and leather driving gloves, and goes shopping for an expensive foreign sports car.

13. DIRECTIONS:
If a woman is out driving and she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she will stop at a gas station and ask for directions.

Men consider this to be a sign of weakness. A man will never stop and ask for directions. Men will drive in a circle for hours, all the while saying things like, "Looks like I've found a new way to get there," and, "I know I'm in the neighborhood. I recognize that White Hen store."

14. ADMITTING MISTAKES:
Women will sometimes admit making a mistake.
The last man who admitted that he was wrong was General George Custer. And no one knows who he is.

15. DRESSING UP:
A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a book, get the mail...
A man will dress up for: weddings, funerals.

16. NUDITY IN MOVIES:
Every actress in the history of movies has had to do a nude scene. This is because every movie in the history of movies has been produced by men.
The only actor who has ever appeard nude in the movies is Richard Gere. This is another reason why men hate him.

17. POLITICS:
Men love to talk about politics, but they often forget to do political things such as voting.
Women are very happy that another generation of hot Congress leader is growing up and getting into politics, because they will be able to campaign for them and cry on election night.

18. CHANGING ROOMS:
In the locker room, men talk about three things: money, football, and women. They exaggerate about money, they don't know football nearly as well as they think they do, and they fabricate stories about women.
Women talk about one thing in the locker room - sex. Not in abstract terms, either. They're graphic and technical, and they *never* lie.

19. WEDDINGS:
When reminiscing about weddings, women talk about the "ceremony."
Men talk about "the bachelor party."

20. TOYS:
Little girls love to play with toys. Then, when they reach the age of 11 or 12, they lose interest.
Men never grow out of their obsession with toys. As they get older, their toys simply become more expensive and impractical. Examples of mens toys: miniature TV's, car phones, complicated juicers and blenders, graphic equalizers, small robots the serve cocktails on command, video games, and anything that blinks, beeps and requires at least six "D" batteries to operate.

Dear December... With love, yours forever

Dear December,
I am closing another year. And there is this whole urge in me to write something. But when you write something that is so close to your heart, people get to know what you are feeling at that point in time. When people know what you are feeling, they think you have suddenly become predictable. And predictable = vulnerable. And Vulnerable is not a good sign of a winner. Being a winner is important to me. But then again, this needs to be told. For if I don’t say it, these thoughts will remain in my heart. And then they will form into big word clots. And word clots kill people slowly, they are unlike the blood clots, wherein a person gets a heart-attack and it’s done! So since the words are at the end of my finger tips, I am going to blog on.

A quick conversation with a dear friend of mine led into this letter to you taking shape.
Friend : Dishudi ( as she fondly calls me ! ) .. I need someone to tell me how much he loves me ( ofcourse my friend is a girl. Guys and I will never have this conversation )

Disha : I know ! its almost as though they stopped producing my type : Bald, Handsome, smart, Funny, Witty, Ambitious and GUJARATI.

Friend : I know, whats happened to our community gene. What’s going wrong ??

Disha : I know what you mean. I have had 4 people who asked me out in November, none with all criteria. I mean if one has to remove any criteria, he can – with the exception of Gujarati.
( It will be ironic, if after publishing this I have to do pheras with a non-gujju !! ) however

Friend : I like all castes – he just needs to want me as much as I want him.

Disha : My friend, then you don’t want a guy, you want a woman. Hhahhaha . What happened to that guy you were talking about.
( We have talked about so many guys. So when I say, what happened to that guy, she knows I am talking about the latest one ; P )

Friend : Oh, it was useless. He didn’t even kiss me, and it was almost as though all my efforts to dress up that night went down the drain !! He pisses me off with his indecisiveness Dish !!

Disha : Oh acha ! ( Only some kind of joke would make my friend feel better at this point in time. ) My dear, I think we should number them. But that would be just plain boring. Lets call him your December.

Friend : Hahaha , Your December. You are funny Dish ! I know

Disha : If you had 2 in December, I would say what happened to December 1st week.

Friend : Disha, I am not that lucky. We are talking about the guy, who is = November. Where is my December ??

Which makes me wonder, Where is my December?? Shouldn’t he be here by now. I mean, I know it’s all mean and all, but he should be here. Its soon going to be 31st. Where every other person if going to ask me who I am going to be with on New Years eve. So irritating. The side effect of growing older is that everyone assumes you are either married, engaged, have a boy friend or almost going to have one. There is nothing called Single. So much so, that an offensive junior of mine asked me, why are you alone with your girl friend watching a movie !! I mean, this is how difficult it is Mr December. Get here now !! January is on its way. You will have only 2 weeks of Disha. Or even better, if Disha likes you and all goes well, December will for the first time see Jan, Feb, March etc. But for that December, you need to magically appear right now !!

Waiting for your early home coming – Love, Yours now and forever.

Mind Over Matter

The last couple of days I finally grabbed a copy of Dan Brown latest book ,"The Lost Symbol". MIND OVER MATTER is a thought that originated from this little piece that I am reproducing below. As described, " Let hypothetically a single thought may have a mass, however negligible and thus exerts gravity. So if thousands of minds focus on a single thought.. It can be converted to action.. " it means if sufficiently large number of minds concentrate on a single outcome of a event, may even cause an event to happen.

FOCUSING on a single thought is the central theme of this blog. It got me thinking, can every square inch of your body focus on a single thought and move oceans ??. I have one such incident in my life. It was grade 1, when someone said, FAT GIRLS CANT COME FIRST ! The mind and body worked in tandem on the day of the race. I had practiced quiet hard pre-race. The race was pretty simple, from a basket full of potatoes and onions somewhere halfway, one had to take 3 of each and run towards the finishing line. So while most athletic girls attempted to find “their potatoes”, little Disha just took any 3 each and ran towards the finish line. FOCUSING on the end and not the means has always been my mantra thereon.

But contradicting my statement above - LOVE works differently !!! The more you FOCUS on it, the more it will RUN AWAY from you. A couple of months ago I went from being a believer in LOVE to a non- believer ! Almost non-existent. Things will happen when they will happen. And there is nothing called forever and always – this was Pankti’s status updates. So who I loved for the first 10 years of knowing what love is, is no longer a relevant part of my life. All my thoughts were focused for a good 10 years on this one really handsome guy. But isn’t 10 years of FOCUS enough?? If that didn’t work, I tried my luck with another gentleman – 2 yrs. thinking things would work differently. Then I tried with another completely different person and another, and another.. each time the focus span decreasing… !! And the more my focus decreased, the more their clinginess increased in a weird observation. So is the rule of MIND OVER MATTER not universal ??

I have had a paradigm shift the last couple of months as I have mentioned earlier on. There is no such thing as TRUE love !! People make adjustments and suit their needs as and when they say they have found their true love. In the last 6 months I have had a couple of men ask me out on dates. Each one is a different individual mentally emotionally and physically. They professed they would love me forever and keep me like a princess. But it all changed the minute I said can we not jump into this, or this is too quick. Let’s give this time. True love was supposed to know everything about me, or at least willing to know what I really like or feel. I should have been their focus. Some of those very people aren’t even a part of life – exited – jumped off the boat. People have shifted their focus from TRUE love to we shall love after we jump into it.

Am I still in fairytale land ?? Is there something like jump into it and everything will follow ?? Should I re-focus on finding true love ? or will someone focus everything on me and find me to be HIS FOREVER ??

The word is EX !

A dear friend of mine probed me into writing a blog on the word EX. What is it in this one demi-word EX, that the whole world is frightened by it ?? Oh Common now, it’s not even a word by itself, and yet it is so powerful that it moves the world. Take for example, when I mentioned the word EX… my friend Aakash , instantaneously mentioned Ex- Boy friend eh ! So you will be talking about them. I mean, I have heard a whole lot of people talk about their EX’s. I have even given a piece of my mind to my friend Arjun for talking too much about his ex-girl friend.

It is quite unlike me to stick my head in the past, and remember the EX. So much so, that there are times as though I feel I never dated in the first place. I don’t know if it is a good thing. But I do not carry my baggage around. Maybe that’s why time and again Pankti and Ami have to nudge me and tell me I always fall for the same guys !! THE WRONG ONES.

But the heart doesn’t learn from past mistakes. Maybe my type is the WRONG TYPE. But that doesn’t mean I hold the reins to my heart in my head and not let it wander. I fear living in the day when I let my mind command my heart by instilling fear of the EX.

Anyway, the point of this whole blog is to emphasize EX. Why can’t people think of EX-FACTOR. Today I stand out amongst most girls for being different. Different in many ways – I am fat for instance. It gives me the EX-FACTOR amongst thin girls. I am articulate, this gives me the ex-factor amongst girls who mumble. I am confident about what I am doing and yet yearn to learn something new each passing day, the gives me Ex-factor amongst people who are complacent and not so confident. My concern today is WHAT IF I DON’T HAVE AN EX-FACTOR tomorrow.

In the first sense, no one wants to be an EX. But my fear is what if tomorrow I am not an EX… with an EX- FACTOR ! Will I survive ? Will I be able to live with myself. A byline on somebody’s MSN/ GMAIL was the 2nd winner is the first looser !! Will I be comfortable being 2nd ??

In this sense I also fear leaving this world… Becoming an EX… Not read enough, not listened to great people enough, not travelled enough, not worked enough, not made money enough, not met interesting people enough, not having tasted enough food and wine enough, not having partied enough, not having told people I am sorry for my past enough, not having told people I love them enough and above all, not made my life worth remembering enough.

AND THEN PEOPLE THINK OF ONLY BEING EX- IN GIRL FRIEND, BOY FRIEND SENSE… There are greater fears of the Ex’s than a mere relationship. But alas, the world skips a heart-beat at the word EX !!!

High powdered Business Meeting !!

Like a bucket full of water will find its space and fill a room till each square inch of room available is filled – likewise, yesterday I went for a round table conference with some highly successful people, whose sheer enthusiasm reached out to all those sitting in that room. For starters, I would have never really gone for the meet – it was a working day. And I have enjoyed enough holidays these past few days. But something said I’ll regret not going. And my instincts were right. I was literally right across the room from such eminent personalities from the industry like Kushagra Bajaj, Shishir Bajaj, M.V. Subbiah, Dilip Dandekar, Ramesh Chauhan and Farhad Forbes. Each one had their own style – the common factor being they have made it BIG.

Starting with M.V. Subbiah, a modest man who talked about the importance of Families in businesses. He shared quite a few valuable insights on this topic. But what struck me the most about this man that he was the most HUMBLE. He made references to the Bhagwat Gita. What is it about this one book – so powerful that so many people make references to it. The compared philosophies of different families in the business world – like the FIAT family, the MERC family, the New York Times family. All of whom have an illustrious history to them. And yet why is it that we hear only about Indian family businesses splitting ? Why don’t we have 2 brothers fight unresolved matters in the west.

It was funny because Kushagra Bajaj, very proudly talked about going on WAR – these were his exact words with his paternal uncle. And how he locked horns. His father accepted defeat, but he took him by his speed to do things he wouldn’t have done otherwise. Ramesh Bhauhan made references of his family feud. And how they resolved it.

These businessmen have discussed family – the subject matter being taboo. And they did not twitch and eye once before maligning FAMILY in public. His cool-ness was almost as though he was arrogant. And yet this is a success story worth noting. This stories have become history. What we have with us is the future. Which only looks bright for this young ENTHUSIASTIC person.

Ramesh Chauhan was vividly talking about marketing – even though he corrected himself several times for straying away from the topic. He was ANIMATED and PASSIONATE about the brand BISLERI that he has built. So much so, that when the guests were given KINLEY bottled drinking water, he refused to drink it and insisted someone run down and get him a BISLERI bottle. This is the power of believing in your BRAND and for me, he is the biggest BRAND AMBASSADOR of this brand.

FARHAD FORBES – of FORBES MARHSALL fame was an articulate man in his late 40’s, early 50’s. From the way he had IMMACULATELY designed a power point presentation, to the way he dressed , to the way he opened a simple bottle of water – all had expression SOPHISTICATION written all over it. He made some brilliant points like the family constitution for example. And how some rules should be written down to avoid conflict in later stages. Nothing is constant and that was his central theme. When someone asked him about his daughter joining the business – he said he doesn’t have a crystal ball saying what he would do 10 yrs hence, but he was positive about his GIRL CHILD working. Theirs is a family of workers, from his grand mother , to his mother and wife.

The 3 hours that I spent listening to these brilliant speakers have left me thinking about what I want ot be in the future. HUMBLE, ARTICULATE, EMACULATE, SOPHISTICATED, ANIMATED, PASSIONATE and an AMBASSADOR OF MY GOODS AND SERVICES !!

USA

USA.. There sheer name of this country commands power and respect. After much apprehension, we finally packed our small bags to explore a country much talked about. One cannot help but have a negative bias towards this place. It is so much talked about in the positive but much recently in the negative due to terrorist attacks, bankruptcy and racial discrimination. So when I finally got off the plane and went through the ordeal of the overly strict American Immigrations officer I wasn’t surprised why one country manages so much negative word of mouth. What I didn’t understand is that this country is constituted by immigrants. And yet, they scorn at every immigrant that walks into their country ? When did this country become theirs ? And even if it is theirs why do people need to be so insinuating. I was particularly heartbroken for an entire Muslim family, including their 4 year old daughter and doll who were checked thoroughly as though they were carrying armed weapons. But such are the nuisances of living in the 22nd century. Someone’s got to pay a price !

It’s true, American people are fast-food people. As soon as I got off the plane I hit the famously infamous TACO-BELL. When you can eat a meal in under $ 10, it’s no wonder 60 % of the people don’t cook. The cherry on the cake is that the man behind the counter is smiling and willing to feed you. He is even trained to judge what kind of a pallet will you have and suggest things that you might enjoy more or less. Such is the power of consumerism in America.

Speaking of which – there is something which is even stronger than the man behind the counter. It’s advertisements. While munching on a take out from a fast food place down the road ( you can be assured there will be one down the road ), one watched TV. And then you are subjected to half a dozen commercials of products ranging from $ 10 - $ 100 - $ 1000. Each one is more and more appealing. It makes you wonder how you are functioning without it. It is almost compelling you to call the toll free 1 – 800 number and order before stock gets over. Lest they run out of it. Take for example the Hair Bump. It’s a simple $ 10 hair pin that gives volume to your hair. I tried finding that piece in every store that I entered. Now I don’t want to get into the products like Hair Spray, Shampoo, Conditioner, Serum etc that you need to buy in order to use that bump. And the result is like an ingredient in a recipe. Each needs to be used in that exact proportion for the final product to be called TASTY !!!

But what I loved the most about America is its people. Warm, friendly, some very genuine bunch of people. Unlike a European, an American will go at length to help you. So if you are lost, or cannot decide between a red or a blue there is always a smiling sales-person waiting to help you. The lady behind the sales counter, the man selling pop-corn in the Yankee’s stadium.

So people can criticize Americans for being over-friendly, or too open… I consider this a thumbs up point for America !!! Keep it up America. If India is know for its hospitality, America aces in Friendliness. So when they say our customer service personnel will be happy to help you, be rest assured he will be happy to help you !!!

Parallel Mumbai

Last week I walked through a maze of little windy lanes with houses on both sides. It’s the heat in between the rains, the humidity that slowly kills your patience. There was a thin line of “nulla” water that ran in the middle of this already small pathway. There was a stench that seem to be growing more and more intense as we got closer to where we were going. Where are we going ? I didn’t know. We were led by a junkie, who i wouldn’t have ever met, had it not been for my friend. She was getting a fake passport made. The man helping us was sitting somewhere at the end of this maze. I stepped on a thing on 2, but i dare not look at what I just squished. Fearing, I will just puke. He asked us for Rs 1 lakh !! Holy cow , I could buy half a car in that money.. But then again if it were for me, I wouldn’t be running away like this. I would be fighting the circumstances. However ugly they got.

Like I fought a long and ugly battle with the University of Mumbai ! But who am I to scoul at this poor soul. Each one of us would have done something equally BAD ASS. Stepped inside this parallel world that we don’t want to believe it exists. When I first got my mark sheet which read FAIL, I remember the walk of shame back from the university. I had indeed failed. On my way out, all I was looking for is people to console me. To tell me that it was a horrible mistake. In return who did I get ? I got people from the parallel world, inviting me in. From the peon to the doorman, all offered some solution – bribe me, bribe me, bribe me. Pay me 10,000, ill get you fake marksheet. Give me 20,000 I’ll get you original marksheet. Give me 30,000 I’ll change your present marksheet. Each one wanting to fight my battle if I was willing to step into their PARALLEL WORLD.

We have seen this being talked about in many a movie. FASHION talks about the parallel Mumbai.. which maybe glitzy and all glamour, but at the bottom of it lies a black hole that sucks you right into it. Fame and fortune are just an entry access to the parallel. On the other side of the spectrum is the parallel world of the beggars shown in the movie Traffic Signal. You don’t know about it, until you are a part of it.

This Parallel world exists in every walk of life. From getting a birth certificate to your Rationing card. Each day 1000 of individuals come to Mumbai in hope of a better life. Even before they get a job, they register themselves as a part of the Parallel world. They become illegal occupants who will now fight for their rights in slum rehabilitation schemes. If you are a wealthy individual, you still find yourself claiming to be a backward class individual for easy admission into a college. The next moment you see MHADA houses being sold you become a part of the higher income group.

At each step you have people from the parallel world luring you into their world. Mumbai and its people live in some parallel world or the other ! If you are not a part of any parallel world, or you cannot be a part of this then Mumbai is not a place for you. More often than ever now, we have seen people giving into these pressures.. suicides and deaths... Confirming their non-acceptance of this PARALLEL WORLD !

When will MEN become WOMEN ?

In my mind right now it’s a woman’s world. In this fairyland called my mind there is a handsome almost Greek god look alike with olive skin sleeping next to me. Those strong arms flexed and relaxed wide shoulders. Every part of him can be defined in acute and obtuse angle language with symmetry to every degree. A gruff voice spotless bald shinny head, voluptuous earlobes and a stubble just a few days old. Draped around him is a SHORT and FAT girl like me. And even better, he looks so in love with me !!! He dresses up for me. He takes hours on end to immaculately put on some cologne to seduce me right into his arms and keeps the stubble soft and not spiky.

In this world the order of the day is that Men are getting waxing done instead of shaving. They are complaining about sunstroke and tan. They are talking about which kind of heels hurt more. They are discussing how to lose weight before their wedding to fit into the perfect outfit to look like a man-doll. They are talking about man versions of period, child birth, and menopause. What a pain in the ass cooking and cleaning the house is ! What the wife likes, the mother in law hates, the brother in law does is all on his mind. What exercises will reduce those Indian child bearing hips and those thunder thighs. Tummy tucks and lady luck ! And then – the best of them all, saved for the last- Men are shopping ! Even better – the Men in my world are WEDDING SHOPPING !

WAKE UP WOMEN AROUND THE WORLD !!

If this is how exactly we want to live why is it that it is always the other way round ? Why is there always an ugly man with a beautiful wife ! It’s not the fault of the men ! It’s the fault of women. From the time we are little our mothers will stick a book in our hand every time we cried. Those fairy tales like Beauty and the Beast are the heart of all the troubles – Why wasn’t there a book called Greek God and a normal city girl. Or Why does Cinderella have to dress up in a gown and run to make it home for a deadline in those painfully high heels and prince charming pursue her – why isn’t it the other way round ? Why doesn’t a normal guy sweep the floor and cry cause he cannot go see Cinderella being vowed by other suitors at the ball and prince charming have to run in high heels in time to make it home !!! And moreover Why weren’t guys made to read those books ? Shocking but true story - the fact remains that the author for these books were all MEN.

From times immemorial girls are made the wait on, linger to find the perfect boy while men chose their pick ! And then there are the other motherhood statements like What is it with girls and shopping ? Why are these 2 words so synonymous to each other ? Why is it that they love each other ? I was recently subjected to an extreme “wedding shopping spree” for a dear friend of mine and I couldn’t help but wonder why are there twice as many a shop for women than they are for men ware? Why are there only men in a women’s ware shop who give approval or disapproval for your choice of colour and cut? MEN and the world they want to live in define the rules applicable for the women who live in this world which in turn defines their love for shopping.

Ask yourself this- Have you ever seen a man take hours to dress up for his girl friend/ wife ? How often do you see a man crib about her clothes than the other way round ? I urge women around me to finally stop dressing up for a day and see how guys fit into our shoes. And then they say women love shopping. The reason discovered is that men, oh the needy men, require girlfriends and wivies to be dressed to kill while they can look like ugly ducklings. Those handful of men who do dress up are called Metrosexual etc. Can you image a guy pulling his hair over what colour will suit him the best ? Or what colour does she like on me? What style of skirt should it be, wheather a fish cut or an A line ? What embroidery will fit the puzzle right ? What jewellery will match these outfits ? Shoes, and then its own dilemma comfort v/s how good they will look ? What kind of hair ? Pulled back, Curled, ironed, bun, French roll... !!! CAN YOU IMAGINE !!!! We are so into the routine that it’s hard for us to even give this a moment and you just read on !!! We are made to believe we love shopping cause WE love shopping. The truth of the matter is, We love shopping cause THEY love us in shopped clothes.

I started out thinking this blog will be about how a girl goes through days shopping for her wedding outfit and trousseau. She walks through narrow lanes and even narrower by-lanes. Puts up with the tantrums of tailors and designers just so that she can get their best craft out of them for her wedding. She sweats it out on a summery day in Santacruz- the heart of wedding shopping district in Mumbai to find “THE” thing. Some even travel to other cities in their search. She goes through the pains of making every part of her body made to order to her guy and all this out of love. For him to look at her coming down the aisle, walking effortlessly in that heavy outfit just so that he could have one look at her and see how beautiful she looks on their wedding day. The heat makes trinkets of water droplets go down her spine and yet she is gleaming with pride that all those shopping days were well spent and this makes her cheeks flush different hues of red and pink and it makes every moment spent before this moment when she sees his eyes go wide and hear his heart skip a beat worthwhile. Her eyes twinkle looking at him dressed up for the first time for her, for their wedding, to make her happy. HE DRESSED UP for the first time to match HER and not just in some ruffled clothes straight out of a dryer. He did it cause HE loves HER !! and not the other way round !!

And yet I cannot help but wonder why guys make it such a big deal to have bachelor parties to mark an end to the era where fun was dirty !! Why can’t he celebrate the start of doing all dirty things officially. Women who until recently just sat back and heard tales of the night spent drinking with strippers are now beginning to have HEN-nights. I wonder why is there such a sudden need to compete. Men will be Men... when did Women become Men ! I am waiting for a time when Men will become Women to see a balance of our world.

Driving by the memories...

Sometimes when I drive alone,
I think of what we have been through,
Our life was not easy,
Your’s came fully but my dreams partly came true...

Every little dreams we saw,
always revolved around us,
never thought all will be scattered,
never knew there would be another someone in our little bus!

It came as a sudden storm,
leaving me in complete pain.
nothing I could do to undo it,
crashing all my hopes in vain...

We always knew the day would come,
We had dreamt about our foursome day,
Never thought u’d be the first one,
While I’ll be still looking for Prince Charming so as to say

you said that you'll always be there,
in distress and in pain,
and when I needed us the most,
I no longer to you could complain.

I knew she had to be the focus,
And why not ! She deserved every bit of it
She brings out the best in you,
And her voice filled your air with love.

It was hard for me to be a corner,
While I always was the center,
I thought I’d become a loner,
Seeing her always so beautiful and perfect, and there

All I wanted was friendship,
And you gave me plentiful of that,
It’s hard to explain to people our relationship,
It wasn’t her that put me in despair.

Tears fill up my eyes,
still wandering in the streets where you taught me how to drive,
Those sunny days in my white car,
Those rainy days with coffee and conversations

now that we are busy in our away,
our life is never the same again,
only memories are left with me,
and a nostalgia of events completely insane...

My heart will always remain in our friendship,
Even though we spend days on end in our separate lives,
They say it takes 2 to do Salsa dancing,
This poem is to make sure DIRA is still very much on and happening !!!!

Angels and Demons - Review

There are 10,000 books written every day but only 10,000 movies made in a year. It’s difficult to write books but the task of making that book into a movie is that compared to climbing the mount Everest. First, you have the die-hard fans of reading – like me, who pledge at first that the book is way better and the movie will not do justice, then you have the other kind of people who don’t read the book and end up watching the movie and not understanding it and writing it off, so the risk taken is huge.

After having coaxed my friends into going and watching the film with me, I had mentally prepared myself for some “Are you crazy looks !” But “Angels and Demons” holds a niche position in one kind of movie watching FIESTA. I could not let my mind wander while watching it and still follow the tangled intricacies of Robert Langdon’s fascinating professors tour of Rome and simultaneously, I really wanted my mind to wander to think of all those beautiful real life sets.. Ancient Rome, Vatican City, Sistine Chapel. It was a feast to the eyes to see all these live on screen in a teeth wrenching story line so crisply defined. So “Angels And Demons”, as directed by Ron Howard and starring Tom Hanks definitely has some interesting things to offer. It obviously has Tom Hanks, who is always a pleasure to watch.
Dan Brown is a writer of great success who can really write a synopsis. Dan Brown has to be given credit for bringing together some fascinating real and probably unreal legends and lore. Brown’s plot required that the Director jams in a lot of chatty detail into Angels and Demons. Much of the detail is interesting.

Modern movie goers like my friends who I sat with and maybe even me have lost the ability to listen to a movie these days. So every time I decided to explain the on-goings to my friend someone cried SHHHHHH .... We want to watch but not to concentrate. While Angels and Demons moves along better than the movie adaptation of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code did, there is a minimum of detail required to understand the history and story. Tom Hanks talks pretty fast but this is not a narrative you can skim through.

Center to the intrigue in Angels is the ancient battle between the Catholic Church and the maybe mythical organization called the Illuminati. The Illuminati was formed from scientists and scholars who were driven underground hundreds of years ago when science wasn’t nearly as cool as it is today. Science and progress is always a threat to institutions that run on ritual and so many scientists, including the astronomer Galileo, were either forced to rethink their views or were outright murdered.

So the Illuminati are pretty unhappy and bring their grudge to modern day Rome where they apparently want to get even quick with a bomb made of really geeky antimater, stolen from the Large Hadron Collider.The Vatican and the city of Rome are really fascinating places. They are jammed packed with unbelievably beautiful churches and castles and also of dark and hidden places, secret passages, skull lined floors and thousands of years of real mystery. Rome and the Vatican are so over the top magnificent and creepy that the secret society of the Illuminati and their ancient beef with the Church seem no less plausible than that man could build a city so full of images and structures of beauty and death.

Robert Langdon has a trail of clues to follow and very little time to follow them. We get to know a ton of Vatican rules and regulations. Latin is thrown around as if by itself it can fill the holes in the plot.

Angels and Demons commits the gross movie sin of having the plot and characters ultimately not honestly landing where they were aimed. There’s twist for twists sake. While watching Angels and Demons, I could feel that there was a twist coming. It was plainly apparent. Because of this, I could not take the characters in the movie at face value as they were portrayed, with the exception of Tom Hank’s Robert Langdon, who must remain a pillar of truth for anything to work. Angels and Demons – THE MOVIE finished telling the more than interesting story that it had set out to tell and joined the league of A Beautiful Mind, The Kite Runner, The Namesake in my list of brilliantly adapted books in modern times.

Child Sexual Abuse

“I asked you for help, and you told me you would
If I told you the things he did to me.
You asked me to trust you, and you made me
Repeat them to fourteen different strangers
I asked you for help and you gave me
A doctor with cold hands
Who spread my legs and stared at me
Just like my father.
I asked you for protection
And you gave me a social worker.
Do you know what it is like
Ihave more social workers than friends?
I asked you for help
And you forced my mother to choose between us.
She chose him, of course.
She was scared, she had a lot to lose.
I had a lot to lose too.
The difference is, you never told me how much.
I asked you to put an end to the abuse
You put an end to my whole family.
You took away my nights of hell
And gave me days of hell instead.
You have changed my private nightmare
Into a very public one.”
This is a poem written by a 12 year old girl ! Which girl has written it hardly matters, what is written moved me to tears. I came across a book called BITTER CHOCOLATE by Pinky Virani a few years ago. I was only a little child back then, but the fear of something like that happening to me looms over me each day, even today. I can’t even begin to imagine what the Victims of such a heinous crime would have to go through, living with someone their own, each day.

The book talks about the Child Sexual Abuse (CSA), and how it is so very common in India. Mira Nair portrayed it so subtly in her movie – MONSOON WEDDING. More recently we heard about the Austrian case and then about the astrologer – dad-child-mother quadrilateral case in India about incest’s ! It sends shudders down my spine. It is so prevalent, time and again I have heard stories, until I saw it for myself ... SHOCKING , but TRUE !

Each morning I pass this 1 street to get to work. The routine included the looking at the over-crowded bus-stop, the magazine vendor, the Unch with a tattoo of a scorpion on one side of the stomach, the beggar woman with a bad limp, the pandu directing the rush hour traffic and a little girl sitting on the side bench. She was not a beggar child. She wore new clothes each day, sat only when there was space on the bench, else stood there waiting her turn. Her eyes were deep, but revealed only how deep the hollow within it was. They talked about the pain and anguish on her life. One cannot forget these sights of their everyday life. It’s only a routine.
But my routine got disrupted the day my car broke down. From the comfort of my air conditioned car, I had to now look for an Auto-Rickshaw to get into. But Bombay being Bombay I didn’t find one coming my way. I then tried getting into the Bus ! I tried once, I let another one go. And then my friend called – she offered to give me a lift if I waited there for 15 mins. Beggars can’t be choosers and so I waited there for her.

Now I am the kind of individual who will strike conversation at a drop of a hat. So I the little girl on the bench something. She didn’t say anything. She just stared into my face and then looked away. I asked her again, “ Whats your name ? You know, I see you sitting on this bench everyday...” She looked back at me, this time tears started rolling down her eyes. I told her, oh I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I got scared and walked away, and stood below the shade on the bus-stop. My friend came after 25 minutes, but I hopped into her car without complaining.
The next day I passed that place again. This time I rolled down my window and waved at her. She just stared in my face and let me pass by. A few days into the routine of waving, she finally waved back. I was content with this acknowledgement and that at least I didn’t scare this little being anymore. A few months passed by, she was growing into a more beautiful girl than I had imaged her to be when I first took notice of her. The seasons changed and then came monsoon.

On days that it rained I saw her sitting below the bus-stop. Days when the sun came out it seemed as though it was all on her... Until that day when I saw her crying in the rain. I felt as though I owed it to our routine to stop and ask her if what was wrong. Maybe she was hungry? Maybe she was hurt? Maybe she saw a new stranger like me, who scared her? The car stopped a little ahead and I walked back to the bench. I held my umbrella above her head. For a minute or 2 she just thought the rain had stopped pouring, until I snapped her out of it. I asked her what had happened?
And she told me the most shocking story ever. Here is what she had to say ...

“My first memory of abuse was at a very early age, with my father abusing my mum or should I say bashing with closed fists, it seemed to be a regular event in my life. My father works at a beddi factory earning daily wages. He is a big solid man and demanded and expected everything to be done his way and if wasn't there was hell to pay. My poor mum's life consisted of being a housemaid and wife. There was nothing more to her life other than this routine. She was not allowed friends except for the neighbours. But the neighbours kept their distance for my mother’s sake in fear that my father would torture her till the end of the night, when he would collapse on the floor from all the drinking. Meals had to be at a certain time and that included a hot meal at 12pm as father would come home for lunch and dinner at 9pm on the dot. Dinner was only for him, for the rest of us it was daal and rice only.

My worst memory of mum’s abuse was one night my dad had gotten into a fight with his boss and was thrown out of his job. We were pushed into the neighbour’s house for the rest of the night. In the morning when I went into the house to see how my mum was, the memory of which is still with me today, my mum’s face was black and blue swollen beyond belief and dried blood not only on her face but up the bedroom walls. Even as a young child I tried to defend my mum only to receive a smack across my head.

My mum’s world was our world too, my brother and I knew no different and even though my mum endured all this she still idolised my dad. A few days after this episode my mother collapsed. With the help of a neighbour we rushed her to Cooper Hospital. The doctor pronounced her dead. He said that the beating has caused internal bleeding and today she bled out. That night my father came home drunk once more. This time it was my brother’s turn. He bashed my brother up for not taking care of my mother while he was away. I urged father to sit down and eat. I served him daal and vegetable with rice that had been cooked by my mother that very morning before she collapsed.

What was surprising was that my father was not grieving. He ate the food like a scavenger and left nothing for my brother or I. On the pre-text of going and getting some food my brother left the house never to come back. A neighbours’ boy told me that he was sorry for my state, and that my brother promised he would come back for me, but he needed to get away and had apologised. I understood him, and was happy that at least he would find a solution.

Days turned into weeks and then my agony started. My father came back home one night sober. He asked me to come and sit on his lap. For a moment I thought I was living a dream. I ran into his arms and hugged him really tight. He started stroking my head, and then my back and was now slowly getting down to his dirty business. I was ranting about how I missed my mother, while he went down and further down. I was now slowly feeling his hand under my frock on my thigh. I looked at him in disbelief. I didn’t want him to touch me there. But he was, he put his hands into my underwear. At first he stroked me gently, but then it was hurting. He fingered me so hard, and then he rubbed his hands against my breasts. I tried to get up and walk across the room, or run out of the house but he held me very tight. I couldn’t break free from his grip. I started crying. He shouted and screamt and ordered me not to cry, but I couldn’t help anything that was happening. He slapped me. The blow was so hard that I fell against the floor. I felt as though my ribs has crashed against the floor. I could hardly get up. I crawled into the next room and sat in one corner. I was scared. I just hugged myself and listened to some activity in the other room for a while and then he fell asleep. From the small window overlooking the nalla I could see the night turn into day.

The next morning, it was almost as though everything was k. He asked me if I had slept alright. He said he would be back for lunch and left for his factory. In the next few days he found a new job. His new job took a toll on him. The long hours gave him just enough energy to trudge back home, eat and sleep to renew his energy for the next day. I didn’t know who I could speak to, cause father forbade me to have any contact with the outside world. He said if I did he would throw me out of the house. The memory of that hell-braking-loose night was fading. But such a happy arrangement didn’t last long. He started drinking more, and went to work with a hangover. After several warnings he was fired again. This was 2 weeks ago. He now started drinking in the house. We had more empty alcohol bottles in the house than the other things put together. Hewould drink and drop and in between his drinking he abusse me, sometimes 3 – 4 times a day. He would insert all sorts of things in me, some even sharp that have left scars. I cannot move as the pain in between my legs is so intense that I just want to die. I have lost control over my urine. I drip all day long. The dripping is causing a foul smell. If I wash myself with soap it burns... and .... and .... and”

OH MY GOD !!! I didn’t have the heart to listen to this little girl anymore... I was shocked, I was horrified... It caused some acute pain within me. I said to myself I had to do something about this. The first thing that I thought was of a Police Complain and Social Service Organisations who know how to control these things. I wanted to take her to the hospital. I had a 1000 thoughts in my mind running at the same point in time. My heart went out to this little girl. I told her if she wanted me to help her I would. She said this has happened before. People take on a cause like hers, and then forget all about it. The momentum was lost somewhere. She didn’t want to lose hope one more time. She asked me to get going with my day. I urged her to let me help her. She said she could do with some money to buy some medication. MONEY!!! You want money!!!

When she asked for MONEY, it ticked me off. An urban INDIAN is so used to beggars and CON men , that I thought this was some ploy to get some money out of me. I asked her how much, she said Rs 1000. So now, this was it really! A 1000 bucks once every year v/s the 10 rupees everyday!!! Was my sympathy to take her to the hospital not enough? I insisted that I pay it myself. She said she wouldn’t go with me. I thought this was a foul play. I said to her I didn’t have the money, knowing full well I did. She insisted only on the money.

I left the bench in a fury !! This girl had wasted so much of my time on a Wednesday morning!!! I went through the day. I was so upset. I didn’t understand why beggars were becoming CON-MEN. I ranted about this episode to my family and kin throughout the day. What is the world coming to,??? said my mother. My grandmother screamt – KALYUG !!!

The next day I passed by the same bench, only to find her still there. But this time she was in her same clothes from the previous day and she was not sitting but she was sleeping on the bench. Some passersby looked at her for a moment and turned away. Most people covered their face with their handkerchief indicating foul smell. Then someone screamt and a huge crowd formed around her. I was looking at this scene from my rare-view mirror now. I felt inquisitive, I pulled up. I walked back to the bench only to find her dead. I called for the ambulance and rushed her to the hospital. The doctor recognized her from a few days ago. He has suggested her a Gynac. The Gynac at this government hospital has asked her for a minor surgery to be performed on her. It would cost her Rs 1000.

Maybe she couldn’t move when I offered to take her to the hospital ! Maybe I didn’t give her a chance to end her story ! Maybe she was scared I would inform her father. Maybe we are so pre-judgemental in our daily lives that an apple cannot be an apple always. I feel partly responsible now for not looking out for her. I feel as though I didn’t fulfil my purpose. I ask the universe for forgiveness today ! May her soul rest in peace. But her story needs to be told, so that we can break out of our mansions and beautiful lives to commit to a cause !!

I have found my cause – People against CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE ... !!

SHUT UP and VOTE

SHUT UP AND VOTE !!! This seemed to be the song of the month, just about anywhere and everywhere that I went. In my college campus, the cafe’s and the bars, on TV, facebook status ! Even my favourite celebrities were trying to preach to me to VOTE. VOTE VOTE VOTE.Look what happened when America voted ! The black inedible ink looks horrendous on my middle finger, but somehow the entire feeling of VOTING made me feel responsible. It gave me the power to legitimize all those times I grumbled about a non-functional government. It’s a slow afternoon on a national Holiday – V Day as they like to call it. I switched on the live coverage of the campaign. The numbers were coming in – only 47 % of the complaining, whining, angry post any national terror calamity of the population turned up to vote. 10 crore rupees of the “Jagore” campaign gone down the drain !

For the sake of this blog I would like to discuss what was going through my mind when I chose to vote. I believe I represent the young Indian voter ! And if any politician had to read my blog today, he could use this to formulate his future action plans for the next 4 years ! The best I have seen anyone describe India is Shashi Tharoor. “India is a thali, a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast.” So there may be different views by different people, but this is MY BLOG !! So SHUT UP AND READ !

Who I voted for, I wouldn’t tell It’s a criminal offense. Who you should vote for is not my prerogative. I only wish to outline my though process while I was voting.

The 1st debate in my mind : The bread versus freedom debate.
Can democracy deliver us the goods ? to alleviate desperate poverty, or do its inbuilt inefficiencies only slower the rapid growth? Is the instability of makeshift coalitions a luxury that developing country cannot afford? So while most of the 57 % of people not turn to vote – were they considering political freedom a dispensable distraction?

2nd debate : The centralization versus federalism debate.
Does tomorrow’s India need to be run by a strong central government to be able to transcend the superficial tendencies of language , caste, and region, or is it that government best which centralizes least? Can other states not pull a MODI ? Can’t strong ethical organisations like the TATA’s launch more campaigns to move the rest of the 53 % to vote ?

3rd debate : Pluralism versus fundamentalism debate.
Is the secularism established in India’s constitution and now increasingly attacked as a westernized affection, essential in a pluralist society, or should India, like many other 3rd world countries, find refuge in the assertion of its own religious identity? Look what it did to Pakistan ! One cannot tell when it is going to topple over. Now i am not one to follow Politics so widely, but I am always uncertain... I only hear different names of the RULERS each day.

And the last debate – The coca-colonization debate , or globalisation versus self reliance.
Should political parties make globalisation their agenda or non-agenda, and sing praises of India, where economic self sufficiency has been a mantra for more than 6 decades. Is there a reason for them to even debate if India should open itself FURTHER to the world economy, or worry if the entry of western consumer goods bring in alien influences that threaten to disrupt Indian society in ways too vital to be allowed? I am a girl, I want to receive cards and gifts all in RED HEART SHAPES each day of my living life without having to think who is waiting at the corner to bash me up. Should they even think of raising the barriers to shield the youth from the pernicious seduction of MTV and McDOnalds? Being nationalistic is my thing, doesn’t matter which language I express it in ! Why can I not express myself in English? I want to boast about India to all my friends living abroad, how will I ever be able to communicate if I don’t speak English ?

Is this the India I want my children to inherit? After having discussed this with my father, he seemed to be of the same opinion about 25 years ago, when he set out to vote! The only difference is that now he votes for the lesser evil of the lot rather that rationalizing his decision making. Maybe I didn’t vote for any party, because none of the parties agenda’s matched my agenda – to see where MY INDIA stands ! Maybe I put in a blank vote ! You will never know... I wish everyone knew their part and they had SHUT UP and VOTED !!!

Sugar and Spice

Until yesterday, I picked my phone up, dialed a few handy numbers on my speed dial to give latest updates about my life and a bunch of other people's lives who I just happened to have bumped into at a club/bar/swimming pool/beach or hiding behind the last rack in the departmental store. GOSSIPPING ! But today the internet has a whole new direction. From the comfort of my bed, I can surf and find out which friend is doing what in any corner of the world. Such is the power of one tool called FACEBOOK ! I am stuck in my bed, im Down with a 3rd round of Chicken Pox. It gives me enough time on hand to check every friends wall, pictures, comments on other's walls, their blogs, their friends to infinity.

I am now 1/2 and hour into Facebook and already bored !The obsessiveness of some people is beyond my understanding. A few 1000 pictures, in every good looking location around the city, some even next to the Dosa Wala of Mithibai College. A few 1000 friends, whom they just happened to have met once or twice for a brief moment in time. Guys have found an easior way, give drinks to girls which are actually free but technically making us girls happy. Girls are now going virtual shopping, earning some points and buying Jimmy Choo or Blahniks (pictures)obviously. What I find even more amusing is the fact that people actually discuss these things over coffee/ bar. So now, even before a guy asks me for my phone number, he asks, Are you on Facebook ?? When did all the romance be diminished to this web-check ups.

Being down with chicken pox gave me enough time to open up a 134 mails that I hadn't bothered to group check and delete from my inbox.

Mail 1 : Entertainment company proudly brings Hard Kaur to Mumbai.
-Don't they have enough of her swearing already ?

Mail 2 : Do you want to Franship ?
-Who told him I would want to Do Franship. And even if i wanted to, what gives him the idea it would be Franship with him ?

Mail 3 : Bonjour Disha.... !
- My my host siblings in Belgium, the weather of cold, I miss you .... I miss them too. It was a year that makes me, ME !

Mail 4 : Beautiful Smaile !
- This one if from Chandigarh, this gentleman's biceps look like those hand floats little children wear when they first dip themselves in the Pool.

Mail 5 : I am 35 year old Male, Living in Middle East. Looking for friends.
- Why dont you go find yourself a 35 year old friend then !! Agreed I look older than most girls my age, but I surely dont look 35. Mails like these make me wonder how guys would be looking at me ? I speed dial my best friend."Do I look 35 to you ?"

Mail 6 : Hey gorgeous, this is my 14th mail. I wonder if you are ever going to reply to me?
- 14th ? Are you kidding. I checked my inbox for No 13, No 12, No 11. He was right ! This was indeed the 14th One.

I block checked every one of those useless mails from the 134 mails in my Inbox to find myself a list of 47 odd mails from cousins, friends, ex-boyfriends and wanting to be be boy-friend - Mr Spicy as I want to call him for the sake of this blog. Priority family first. Half way into the letter from my cousin in the US, I found myself thinking what would Mail 1, 2, 3 .... etc have to say to me ? Sorry cousin Rupali, I will get back to your mail. For as much as I want to hear how you spent your Valentine's Day of 2009, I want to hear What Spicy has to say.

I quickly opened Mail 1.
"am very certain of the fact that I would miss you if I knew u better...ur ...beautiful..gorgeous with a wit to match(i hope) if not outshine ur look. There's an old term that fits..and I hope u dont find it offensive..its meant as a compliment..."U'd be the best mind-fuc"!

I was furious. Just by stating It's meant as a compliment doesnt mean he can say whatever he wants and I'd be okay with it. I Dont care What Mail 2,3,4 etc have to say to me... I wanted to reply back quickly. And ofcourse it had to be something Witty. Anything less witty would just be a big slap on my ego.
So here is what I wrote : "by saying that i hope you dont find it offensive , doesnt make the statement any less offensive ! but I dont want to read between the lines ... thanks for the compliment !"

It was hardly anything witty, but in my rage I couldnt come up with anything witty. I sent it. World will stop rotating and revolving the day I find someone half as nice as my dream man - which will be NEVER. I refresh the page to get back to cousin Rupali's email when I see I have a mail from Spicy ! So offically he is a looser. Because he spends his time on Facebook !

Spicy : "Ah well its not supposed to be offensive and ur welocme ......so how u doing wat u up2?"

Spicy surely caught me on the right day, I had all the free time in the world to Gossip to this complete virtual Spicy stranger. I could have bored him to the end of time with I have chicken pox so dont mess with me... But who wants to hear the sad story behind the so called beautiful face Mr spicy has been writing to.

Me: " Nothing much. Just hanging by the moment. Summers setting in, it's groggy ! Feel like sleeping. What you upto?"

Spicy : "I'm waiting for the kind of love
That is strong enough
To walk through anything
So don't waste my time
So don't waste my time
I only wanna play for keeps
Wanna fall in deep
If you don't just say goodbye
Don't waste my time"

Spicy was poetic - a modern poet, who doesnt actually write things himself, just googles the right lyrics to fit into the right conversation. Not bad ! My Spicy finally added me as a friend. Till now, thanks to Facebook privacy measures didnt allow him to see my picture, friends notes etc and neither could I

A quick check into his profile revealed his actual profile. A real friend for old times sake was taking my case : ( Spicy went down the drain.

Spicy was this bespectacled genuis of my school. Aced all exams and participated in every other debate and science quiz competitions. Got home the trophy of the maths olympiad three times in a row, a record which still remains unbroken to this date. But Spicy was = sugary in school. How did Sugary turn Spicy !! What is wrong with the world. Perspectives change ! People change ! But sugary is a matter of character - how can that change.

Sugar and spice added me to msn then ! A bried what are you doing ? How is life revealed the following information.

Junior College = Mithibai
Degree College = Some Chef top school in Switzerland
Work stats = Hospitality manager for a chain of hotels in switzerland
Facial features is now = HOT n SPICY
Character still remains sugary towards me

Well, he had to go then. He was starting his shift ! But Mr sugar and spice did make me forget any grudge I held against Facebook ! It helped me find my old friend back !!!! But he promised to catch up tomorrow same time. Well, I was going to be in my bed, so now i was looking forward to a sugary and spicy afternoon chat date with my long lost school friend !!!!

The MSN window I fell in LOVE with

I have never really understood the reason why chat rooms existed. How people find their soul-mates over the internet, until I thought i found mine. A quick introduction by a common friend and I found myself waiting hours on end for a quick chat about life, philsophy and love. The days started with Good Mornings, the afternoons with, so what did you eat ? And nights, oh the nights were about inspirations, ambitions and past love lives.

The window i was staring at has a heart, has a mind and has an opinion. This is what I loved the most about it. So whether I was angry or I was sad, there was always someone who was there to listen to how I felt. And even better, the MSN window had a gender, it was a boy. When the question about perspectives came into the picture, I had mine at the click of a button- whether it was about what should I say to him? or how do you think he will react ! This msn window had a boy's perpectives.

But such happy arrangements never last long. And although I was increasingly looking at him as a prospective love target - he had everything I ever wanted in my man- Smart,Funny, Leadership material, sensitive (sometimes a little too much), increasingly ambitious, Caring, bald and a little tummie ---- He had one big flaw - he would never like me ! I was not his type. Now even though I have said this a little over a dozen times to other people, my medicine tasted BITTER to the R when tested on me. And this very feeling made him want MORE.

And the fact that I couldnt have him for some weird reason made me want him EVEN MORE ! Call me competitve, but this drove me to the bottom of my bottomless pit. The more I spoke to him, the more I felt as if I was drowning. I tried to hold onto a few things that came my way to strive to keep my head up, but everything as it seemed was dorwning with me. I was loosing my mind over the whole situatuion. And the worst feeling is to not talk about this to anyone - and act as if everything is hunky dory in your life when it isnt for God's Sake. I had to do something. But from when and where I realised it was too late. I said God's Sake to myself so many times, that somehow GOD actually heard me for MY SAKE and transported me to HELL - yes this is where I belong !!!

After having drowned in LOVE and gone to hell I realised it wasnt worth it - the whole I love him, but he doesn't even have an inkling frinking clue about it. In hell I met my past lovers --- PERFECTO !!!! ... most of whom were laughing loud like vampires - I wasn't surprised. I am being honest to GOD. Now, I am not boasting, but I did brake a dozen hearts uptil I was 20, when for the first time some guy from far far away broke my heart.

It was just about the same time when Rihanna first shot to fame with her song - UNFAITHFUL. And although I wasn't unfaithful, in many ways telling them lies about my whereabouts and what I was doing to avoid difficult conversations made me feel as if I were. I had and still to this date face the issue relating to Commitment. Those of my friends in LOVE - often tell me, when you come across the right person, these issues will never even cross my mind. But from where I was standing at at the moment I could sing along with Rihanna and actually feel every word of that song,
" I dont want to do this anymore
I dont want to be the reason why
Everytime I walk out the door
I see him die a little more inside
I dont want to hurt him anymore
I dont want to take away his life
I dont want to be a murderer"

AND I was singing this in HELL... Now what did hell look like ? It was a small, very small room... with everyone who I never wanted to NOT have difficult conversations with, in it, with very tall, tall ceilings...The ceilings echoed. And I was singing loud. My voice filled the empty dome above. I was the entertainment special for that night. The room was filled with those dozen guys and my singing resonated ! The walls were closing in on me and I was scared... From somewhere GOD came to my rescue. He did his thing - of granting people of their 3 wishes. And I got my share in the nick of time.

He granted me 3 wishes...
I thought for a while, and I pronounced them unto him.

1. Oh GOD, Make my concience clear. I dont want to live in the world/ hell or heaven with the guilt of the past boy friends in me ! And althought it may seem as though I was wrong from my point of view - I swear to my living self in HELL, I never meant to do it purposefully and hurt them so much. If not you can send me to the HELL of HELL.

GOD : GRANTED my CHILD.

2. Oh GOD, I want everything stupid that I have ever done after having falling in love not follow me to my next life - My BAD KARMA should be erased and not haunt me.

GOD : Do some good karma, balance your life and I will erase it... For that I will send u back to the world. I was elated. Maybe this was the end of HELL for me... everything will be happily ever after. But wait a minute, why should I not just take advantage of the 3rd one. The greed in me took on.

3. Oh GOD, Please Never make me fall in LOVE again !!! And Erase my love for this MSN window out for good.

He smiled, looked at me and said
God : Child, that's not possible. It's only in your hands. GOSH ! If things were to be in my hands, I wouldnt be asking GOD for favours.... felt like screaming to god , DUHH

Anyway, by the time I would give it back to him, I found myself waiting for this window man who was comin to see me. It didnt help that he had a box of my favoirite choclates in his hand - FOR ME ? FOR ME !!!! Ok, maybe I loved the choclate more that time, than I think... lol.

But when he gave it to me, I think God did the 2nd part of my 3rd plea. I think magically he was able to wipe out the love for this now walking and talking live msn window in front of me. This was morning of my 1st day in the world with my new LIFE. DAY 1 passed without the slightest mention of him in my head or me feeling guilty having listened to Rihanna.

Towards the end of the night, when someone asked me, why do you have a box of choclates in your car, half open, and half finished, I realised I hadnt thought about the winbdow man. GOD was GREAT ! I logged into MSN, hoping to see him there. And he was there - I said to him, this was the first time any guy has given me choclates... and Pat came the reply, Oh ! how boring a boy friends you would have had.

This got me thinking. Maybe I was never worthy enough for gifts ? But oh no ! I did get a few gifts. But it was always about what they liked gifting. No one had put that thought into what I like being gifted. Not that the msn window thought either - it was just that morning we had spoken about chocolates and I happened to have mentioned my favorite ones !! I am not trying to disregard any gift or his gift ... all gifts made me so happy - for the joy of the gifting is in the surpirse and the thrill that comes with it. As I said, I had consumed half the big box of choclates against all will and conscience to keep away from fatty stuff (",)

But what I was thinking was will I never be worthy of someone's love? Cause I hope GOD has erased the gland that releases hormones that make u feel that you are in love, for good. Atleast right now I feel less vulnerable. Will never someone come and say I DO LOVE U D, ever? Time will tell... but yeh kambakht time hi nahi fast jata !!!

Valentine's of 2009 !

I've jus put on some night cream and I'm slowly creeping into my bed ! It's when you are alone that all those thoughts come swinging back into action, as if they were waiting jus around the corner to come get you, to blame you for what you have made of yourself. How I would love to agree with Christina Aguilera when she sings


"Falling in love again, never wanted to
What am i to do, i cant help it
Love always been my game, play it how i may
i was made that way, i cant help it "



The symptoms are familiar: the pull in the stomach, the tingling in the arms and lips, the fluttering in the lungs. To meet, to touch, to hold! The obsessive longing -- the wild bouts of fantasy! And then he called : "Do you want to go Dancing?" - Date : Valentine's Day of 2009 ! But this time round I was not 12, I was 22 .. You are hardly a teenager. Yet you feel like one. This is what the French call a coup de foudre -- a bolt of lightning -- out of the blue: BAM! And at your age! The intensity of a coup is matched by its mystery: Why do you fall in love when you do? It felt so spontaneous. Nothing too formal, Will you be my Valentine bullshit ! This is what attracted me. I always knew not everyone lived a Mills and Boons life !

I walked through the crowded bar, my eyes searching. The sex-ratio at that Bar was 1 girl : 5 guys... ! He was lost somewhere in the middle of all this chaos. On the far left i could see a girl make-out with her man. He ran his hand through her touseled hair... No I dont want to get lucky and be her, I was thinking more of how long would they have been together? One night, One month, One decade ? Does time define these acts of love? Anyway, I dashed against this guy and his drink is all over the bottom half of the dress. I just gave him that look and moved on. What was the point of having that conversation, I knew he would be sorry and i needed to focus here ! Not be in any bitter mood till atleast i get to him. He apologised, but I had left him 2 people behind. The bar tender was dishing out some pink mocktail. I made a mental note of it and thought I'll ask him for that one. I would need some drinks to handle his sarcasm somewhere into the night.

Moved another few people, almost squeezed between 2 chairs, GOSH i never thought i would have made my way through that. FOCUS i screamt in my head! What will he be wearing? His camel coloured shoes? I passed this beautiful girl in a red dress and black what looked like the ones i had seen in Nine West the other day. She was with a guy who was slowly trying to what looked like a move on her. But for a minute i thought i could read his mind, he wasn't sure about the whole thing.Then there I saw him, Oh no wait... that wasnt him. It was his Twim Brother ! The brother smiled the " Oh no ! its not me, you are actually looking for my brother look!" I was aghast... why is his brother there, i thought to myself?

Alright, his brother is his best friend, and frankly i didnt expect him to be there alone either. "Howdy!" , Black Shirt, Jeans, Closed shoes, Clean Shaven, Little bald just the way I like him to be and ofcourse a few pounds lighter than when I saw him last. He seemed to be on his 4th beer which was slowly dripping trinklets of water down from his bottle onto his unusually little hands. It was HOT in there, too many people for that little space. He smiled, I smiled back and then he said something, which I couldnt hear, for a minute I wanted everyone to shut up including Bob Sinclair singing World Hold On !! What a co-incidence... Thats the problem with these places. Little uncomfortable talking in his ear with his brother around hey!

If this was a part of a Bollywood movie then one would have expected fireworks to breakout of nowhere,just me and him and nothing else that can be heard, maybe some white smoke out of no-where. But this was reality. What would men in reality ask? Maybe he'd ask if I drove alone, was I going to drink something? Can he buy me a drink perhaps? Ok, maybe I was asking for too much? It was jus a plain simple do you want to go dancing question, if i expected a little less I wouldn't be so disappointed? It jus conincedentally happened to be Valentine's Day right? I dont need to think too much into this for once. But the girl in me took on. The same things that I had liked moments before getting into this bar-which was now making me extremely un-comfortable were now hurting me in the little places of my heart that i didnt know existed. And then he threw the bomb " Oh ! You did come, I thought you would have never come."

My world shattered with his sarcastic comment. So what, he didnt expect me to come? Did it not matter to him whether I was there or not? Did he ask him only for the heck of it? Even after knowing what I feel for him? Just that evening I had asked him," Will you be nice to me?" To which he had replied Ofcourse ! Obviously he didnt follow what he had jus promised. Did I just leave the comfort of the Singles Party i go to every year from the time I last broke up which was exactly 2 years ago for him, who just shrugged when i got there?? Do i deserve this treatment ? Am i not the lucky one who spends a Valentine's day with a Valentine? Is Valentine Day just another over-rated day. And for the first time in my life i actually understood the feeling of when I can say something was truly over-rated and I meant every word of it.

How i ran from there, and who i clung to for some help is all secondary. But thats the day when I realised Love is not something you can make happen and make do. And for as hard as i tried to change the words of destiny... he was not instore for me.
I could have cried myself to sleep or go to the next bar with my friends and move on with my life. The choices people make sometimes determines which turn life will take against destiny. And that is exactly what i did. I gathered all the little pieces of my shattered heart and time is healing them slowly but surely. Maybe he had an upper hand as it seemed that day, making me so vulenerable. It makes me angry that I led myself to believe, I expected him to show the kind of respect i gave him when he came out with my friends. But some people care little about what others feel, but its really not their fault. It's the fault of those who lead them to believe that what they said or did mattered. He had never shown the respect and never would when I think about it today.

So does this mean that there will always be one person who will be dominant in a relationship? Who will make the other one feel vulnerable? The answer to this question lies in the YING and YANG theory. One just needs to find the right person who will fit their puzzle of life to find a balance - where nothing of this will matter. Where it wont be important what he said, or what she says, or what he did and what she didnt do? I know of many a couple who have found their balance and I am sure I will find someone to strike a balance with me before the end of time.

The trouble with LOVE !

No matter how many shopping trips you make, or how many new hair-cuts that you get or how many glasses of Chardonnay that you drink, only time will bring back the little pieces of your shattered heart back together and will make you learn how to move on...

Love can be a many splendid thing
Has another joy you bring
A dozen roses
Diamond rings
Dreams for sale
And fairy tales

It'll make you hear a symphony
And you'll just want the world to see
But like a drunk that makes you blind
It'll fool you every time

The trouble with love is
It can tear you up inside
Make your heart believe a lie
Gets stronger then your pride

The trouble with love is
It doesn't care how fast you fall
And you can't refuse the call
See you've got no say at all

Now I was just a once a fool it's true
I played the game by all the rules
But now my world's a deeper blue
I'm sadder but I'm wiser too

I swore I'd never love again
I swore my heart would never mend
Said love wasn't worth the pain
But then I hear another HIM call my name
The trouble with love is
It can tear you up inside
Make your heart believe a lie

Every time I turn around
I think I've got it all
My heart keeps callin
Over and over again
This set story always ends the same
Me standin in the pouring rain
It seems no matter what I do
It tears my heart in two !!!!

Exchange Program

Exchange is about learning. It's not as simple as learning whatever it is that's taught in school, though. It's about learning how to listen, how to speak, how to think. Learning who you are, who your friends are, the type of people you want as friends. Learning how to trust your innermost feelings, and how to find those feelings in the first place. It's about learning what's really important to you, and learning what you really don't give a damn about.

Exchange is about how to tolerate, how to accept, how to like, and how to love. Learning how to give as well as to receive, and how to trust that everything will even itself out on it's own. It's about learning that your mom and dad do have the right answers sometimes, and that your kid sister isn't such a dumb little kid anymore. Exchange is about learning how to treat people as people, not as stereotypes. Learning that sometimes a kiss isn't just a kiss, sometimes it means more, sometimes it means less. Learning how to achieve, how to succeed, how to accomplish. It's about learning how to not come in first place and still be proud, and about coming in last and learning how to admit that you could have been better.

Exchange is about learning that large parties don't necessarily mean a good time. Learning that loneliness doesn't go away in a crowd, and that sometimes it's okay to be by yourself on a Friday or Saturday night. It's about learning that your lunch time crowd does not constitute your popularity, and that popularity is all a matter of perspective. It's about learning that boredom is simply laziness of the mind, and watching 3 hour of TV every night is not quality relaxation time. Exchange is about learning how to pack a bag and how to pack a room full of way too much stuff. It's about learning that people probably like you a whole lot more than they'll ever tell you, and that it's your responsibility to make sure your friends know how much you appreciate them.

It's about learning that simply doing what you're supposed to do isn't enough, you need to put forth twice that effort in order to fully grasp whatever it is that's sitting in front of you. It's about learning how to make people smile. Exchange is about learning how to miss people enough to not stick them in the past, and how to not miss them so much that it keeps you from moving into the future. Learning how to motivate yourself and how to motivate others. Learning what the phrase 'make do' means and how to use it to seem as if you're not simply 'making do'. It's about learning 25 different ways of saying 'we made out', and how to swear in all the different languages of all the other exchange students. Exchange is about learning.......LEARNING HOW TO LIVE!