Monday, December 19, 2011

Let his soul rest

Death is inevitable, and whether willingly or unwillingly, everyone will enter the grave.

But it is just too disheartening to see a 50 year old man dying, leaving 3 daughters behind. And it was just last weekend that we all met for lunch and had a jolly good time together. And the same day, he put his hand over my head and told me that I worry too much about life and that I shouldn't. Sadly, I didn't know that those would be his last words to me.

My mamaji left for his heavenly abode early this morning. I was so shocked that I don't think I could have faced the family. I didn't go to the see the last rituals being performed. I know I'll cry. I don't want to face the family, and I would not know what to say to them. Why is it that the most helpful and the most caring people are the ones who die earlier?

Oh God, please promise me that you'll take care of him.

May his soul rest in peace!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

After all, it is just a thin line

I trust you, I always did,
I knew you would be there,
to hold my hand, not once but always,
to wipe my tears, not once but always,
to make me smile, not once but always.
Sometimes, I felt my expectations were rising
But no, they weren't really expectations
It was faith.
I trust you, I always did.

For years and years, we have been together
laughing and loving
like a happy couple.
You did hold my hand,
wipe my tears and make me smile.
Overwhelmed with the love I got,
the curve of trust rose like a mountain.

While I was too enthralled in your love,
I failed to notice the evil you,
that part of you
which had been cheating on me, not once but always
Maybe I was blind, but I really didn't see
that you were never mine.
I trusted you, I always did.

I don't know why you back-stabbed,
but I was hurt, really hurt,
perhaps, too dumbfounded to react.
I trusted you, I always did.
I fail to understand what went wrong
If you never loved me
then why did you make me believe that you do.

You proved me wrong this time,
I thought we were like the calm water of the river
but you made it seem more like an unguarded ocean,
susceptible to the fierce tidal waves,
turbulent in the surging waters.
I really trusted you,
but you were the one 
who forced me to change sides. 

PS: I had something this on my mind for a few months but never really sat down to write. Now the mood was right and the emotions flowed. Hope, it didn't turn out to be bad.  

Saturday, October 29, 2011

All That Glitters is not Gold - It Could Be The Diwali Pomp and Show

Diwali definitely drains out all the energy and leaves one exhausted. There was so much to do that I did not get any time to write. Cleaning the house, painting the diyas, cooking, travelling across the city is what makes it so hectic. And not to forget the rangoli, which I am so possessive about. Really, for me Diwali is more about rangoli than sweets and gifts (awrite, I admit I love gifts). If I don't make the rangoli and paint the diyas, Diwali does not seem to be Diwali. And you would be surprised to know that I painted about 10 dozens of diyas this year, much more than what I usually paint. When I was done with the diyas, my happiness knew no bounds. 12 dozens was something. 120 diyas. Woah... I still can't believe I did it. 

I did not take any picture of the diyas but they looked the same as last year's. But the colours I used this time were better and more vibrant than the usual blues and greens. I so wish I had taken a picture. 

But you haven't missed the most special part. Ladies and Gentlemen, so here's presenting you the most difficult rangoli I ever made..


Isn't it amazing? 

Sadly, when it was time to light the diyas, some asshole spoilt it. My detective eyes told me that it wasn't a kid for sure. Someone wearing shoes, probably, size 7 spoilt it and he did it deliberately. I could even see fingerprints running through it. How could people do that? Don't they feel ashamed in spoiling someone's hard work?

Well, it really did spoil my mood. If I come to know who did it, I would definitely blast them off. 

Anyway, there was no point crying over spillt milk, so I went along with the celebrations, put a smile on my face and got my picture clicked with my rangoli.

Its me

The thing is that I had a good time. 

Now that the festivities are over, Formula 1 is the next big thing and if you are in Delhi, you wouldn't miss it for sure even if you have absolutely no idea about racing. And if you don't have the tickets, being a dilliwala, you sure would have tried all your connections and contacts. I did it too and I am proud to be a true Delhiite. I am going on Sunday and would definitely fill you up with the details. 

Hope you guys too had an amazing Diwali. 

So long.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A Productive Break from the Office

I have just returned from a workshop that was organized by my company. "Planning, Organizing and Managing Time and Resources" is what the workshop was named. The title is self-explanatory and if you ask me, the workshop was about things that I already knew. However, as a human being, we tend to ignore certain aspects of our lives, which require immediate attention but are ignored out of our sheer ignorance or, simply, out of laziness. For me, this workshop was a great help since it made me recapitulating things that I had forgotten.

Well, I am not really going to write about what we talked about in this 2-day training session (unless you guys want me to). Most of us are aware of the 80/20 principle and the Time quadrant matrix, two tools that are excessively used across the world to analyze our lives (personal and professional, both) and bring about a change. Both these tools primarily talk about increasing our productivity, which is what our main goal is.

However, I will not get into the concepts (which simply means that I will leave out the boring details). I'd rather talk about things that were interesting and truly made me think. In simpler words, this post is not dedicated to the session entirely but contains issues, problems or solutions that are a clear reflection of what my own introspection has yielded over the years.

To be honest, this workshop made me admit that I do not have a long term goal in life. I mean, a real goal. And very frankly, I don't think any of my close friends have one too. A real goal. Something that you really, with all your heart, want to achieve. I have come to realize that the most common mistake that people do (including me) is that we do not align ourselves to the goals of the organization we are working for. I mean, there has to be a link. If you look at it from a different angle, imagine yourself in your manager's position and question yourself whether you really want to be in that position. I know a lot of people would have a positive answer to it,just  like me, but is it possibly the right track to achieve that goal. Simply put, our personal goals should be in sync with the organizational goals. Sometimes, our own goals are nothing but a derivative of the organizational goals, which is fine, I think.

To understand the link between your personal goals and the goals that are expected of you, it is important that the goals be clearly defined, and documented, if necessary. It is very important to know what you want from yourself and what the company exactly and precisely wants from you (and if the expectations are exactly articulated in the manner you would want to deliver).

Once the goal has been decided, a set of actions must follow.

One of the biggest challenges that most of us face is to strike a balance between our personal and professional lives. Really, it is very difficult to do that. It requires a lot of time management skills.

But as a word of caution, if you overdo with the time management thingie, your goals might somewhere be lost in the maze. To support this theory (or concept), I have a story to share. Well, I was told that this story is hypothetical but I think I could relate to it in a number of ways. "There was one a couple - a husband and wife, leading their normal routine life. The husband was very organized and did everything on time. He was never late for his appointments. And he followed the same in his personal life. Like a good husband, he would always come back home on time. The wife was simply the opposite. She took her own sweet time in whatever she did. And this made the husband unhappy. Once, the husband and wife decided to go for a movie. Being calculative and keeping a buffer travelling time, the husband was ready and out waiting in the car. The wife, on the contrary, took her own time choosing her dress with concern, did a little bit of make up, wore a nice pair of shoes to go with the outfit and eventually came down by the car a bit later than expected. This made the husband very angry and he scolded her for being disorganized and not punctual at all. What happened. They fought and the evening out ended in a disaster."

See, here the point of going for a movie, essentially, is that the couple must spend a few happy moments together to make their weeded life a success. The goal is not to watch the movie (most of the times) but to enjoy the time that they get to spend together. Their married life would have to face the repercussions, if they end up fighting after the movie. The ultimate goal is not achieved. They might as well have stayed back and not gone for the movie in the first place. 

What was required here was that both of them understand each other's needs and adapt themselves to each others preferences. The husband should understand the wife's weakness but he should also not force his behaviour on her. On the other hand, the wife must at least live up to the expectations by keeping a buffer time herself, if she knows that she would take extra time to get ready. She must understand what it means to keep somebody waiting. They both must work and re-design their goals and take the necessary actions towards it.

So basically, these goals are not only useful in our professional lives, but also play an important role in our personal lives. A few years back, somebody in my family taught me a golden rule - "Every change that you make in your life must be measurable

Therefore, every step that we take towards achieving our goal must be calculated. Of course, there a few distractions and external factors which are not in our control. But leaving these unpredictable circumstances, every step you take would be a step closer to the goal. 

Disclaimer: At the end of the post I realized that majority of the things written out here are not from the trainer's mouth. Every word here is my own and you are free to agree or disagree to it. I still have a lot more to say but I didn't want to make the post too long. I could write about it some other time, maybe. 

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

A much needed hideout

Sometimes I wish I had a small little hideout away in the woods or someplace secluded. No, not in a house which would be filled with 10 odd people. A place away from all the hustle bustle; far from the city. A place so far that I would have to drive miles away to reach there. A place where I can be alone and can spend my time thinking. A place where I can be what I am. It would be just me. Nobody to knock on my door. Nobody to bother if I ate or not. Nobody to check if I needed something. Just me, alone with my own self. A small room with 4 walls (and a lavish bathroom).

Well, if you leave my present scenario out (I'm upset for a reason I can't figure out), I think everybody should have a little space of their own. Wouldn't it be nice to just stay away from the world when you truly want to be alone. A place where you could enjoy your solitude. Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could just switch between your home and that little secret space of yours. 

A place like this

Or maybe, someplace like this. So quiet that you could hear the gushing water

A place away from the city - A drive that itself would rejuvenate you

Wouldn't it be great?

I wish I owned such a place. 

And I wish I wasn't afraid of ghosts, who somehow find their way and haunt me, especially, when I am alone. 

PS: I still wish that I had a secretive home!

Sunday, September 25, 2011

I too expect something in return

Fathers Day!
Mothers Day!
Grandparents Day!

I wished all of these respective people on days that are entirely dedicated to them. I wished because I consider them a part of my life. I wished them just to make them happy. Even when they weren't near me, a simple phone call or sending across flowers was always my top agenda. Not because I wanted something in return; rather give them a part of me, my own self. And didn't I feel happy. I did.

But every year, Children's Day and, more specifically, Daughters Day is ignored.

Shouldn't the daughters be expecting something in return? If such days are celebrated, then they should be done equally. I do not want any gifts but a considerate blessing would do wonders.

I am super angry right now. I have already goofed up enough today. I do not want to say another word.


Sunday, September 11, 2011

When the green grass is actually a shade of grey

Years have gone by but our country is still a male dominated nation. Perhaps, I am wrong in making a generic statement, but this male dominated society persists in its most cruel form. People still think like they used to a hundred, maybe two hundred, years ago. Their lives may have changed but what has not changed is the way they look at it. And this black dungeon society has been very clearly portrayed in the Shoaib Mansoor film, Bol. 

The central theme of this movie, though is based on the increasing demand for a male child, however, it does reflect the male dominance and the consequences that women have to face as a result of their egoistic nature. Ever since I remember, a zillion movies have been produced and another zillion books written on this aspect. We, as individuals of the next generation, claim that our lives have changed and male dominance is a thing of the past. Well, I don't really deny this fact, however, I am not ready to give in to this argument as well. 

Men and women, both, claim that today we are more educated and such rust-like traditions no longer exist. Everybody talks about women sharing an equal status with men in all walks of life. I do not say that discrimination against women, exists. But sadly, women still do not have a say in the day-to-day-discussions. Sometimes, it is not because our country is a male dominated society. It is because women have agreed to be dominated by men. 

I am a woman too. Perhaps, I would not have agreed openly if given a chance. I say that men have changed and they see women with respect. But deep inside, I know that if a similar situation arises, wherein I would be expected to give in to the male dominance, I gladly would. Infact, I have done this a thousand time before. I have seen other women doing it. I still see men behaving like they control women. And I still see women, allowing men to control them. 

Maybe it is the rule of the nature that men are born to speak while women are born to listen. 

The movie, Bol, is about a man in Lahore who wishes that a son be born to him. He keeps getting his wife pregnant and girls are born one after the other. The family's financial condition keeps deteriorating while the hungry stomachs keep increasing. One fine day, the family is blessed with a son, but the father later realizes that the child is actually a hermaphrodite. As a result, he grows to hate him. The father in this movie is a perfect example of a man dominating his entire family. He doesn't allow his children to go out of the house. His eldest daughter is rebellious and, therefore, too outspoken for him to tolerate. They often get into conflicts. And if she ever wins an argument, she is thrashed black and blue. 

I don't know if such things are still prevalent in our country and the neighbouring ones too. Perhaps, the downtrodden still wish for a boy to be born so that a member to earn money is added to the family. Daughters have always been a liability. 

Even in today's world, women, at some point or other, let men dominate them. Time and again, their own existence is questioned. Even in the tiniest of situations, women curse themselves and take the blame for anything that goes wrong. 

Why is it always the woman's fault when things turn sour in any relationship?
Why is it that the woman has to keep quiet even when she is not wrong?
Why is it that she has to suffer silently, knowing that her man is the one who ought to be blamed?
Why is it that her life and death depend on someone who is not God?

Like, I said before, we are an educated lot and the grey norms of the society that once existed are no longer the supreme drivers of our life. We may not be following them like they were followed but somewhere they exist in our heads. Menfolks somewhere deep inside have that male dominance remaining while woman still feel inferior. 

Sunday, August 28, 2011

What Changed Her Life?

As the early morning rays of the sun fell on the tall trees bordering the small city of Kaliganj, the entire village geared up to complete their household chores. It was just another day for everyone but Kusum, who lay awake on her flimsy charpaai, staring at the thatched roof that would, without a doubt, give way to the rains due this year. But she was not worried about the roof, not the least bit.  She had her future to worry about. Exactly 262 days back, she had turned 15. Curious about her body, that morning, she had stared at her reflection in the one and only mirror they had in the house. Taking advantage of her baba being not in the house and her amma tirelessly talking to their neighbour Sukhmani tai, Kusum cupped her breasts in her hands and wondered if they would ever grow as big as her amma’s. Though she belonged to a conservative village where women were not allowed to flash their skins, she was always awed by the big posters that hung near the well just outside their village. She saw the heroines dressed in kinky clothes showing their cleavage.  She always wanted to look like them, wear clothes like them, and walk in high heels like them. Day and night, she wished that the good lord would give her an opportunity and let her live that life. Little did she know that one dreadful day in her life would take away her right to dream.


2 days after her birthday, clad in a white salwar kameez, she was returning from school, when Kusum was abducted by 2 strange looking expressionless men. She thought they looked strange because their eyes were much fierce than what she had ever seen. They forcibly blind folded her and pushed her in what she thought was a jeep. She always wanted to sit in a car but this journey was an unpleasant one. She was already blinded to what was happening around her, there was a little chance of her escaping the ordeal. Sitting between two bulky men who repeatedly kept falling on her on what seemed like a curve of the road, Kusum felt uncomfortable in her seat. Her legs had been spread and in between she could feel something that seemed like a thick rod. She had seen it before but did not know what it was called. The only thing she knew about it was every car had one fitted in the front seat. The guy on her right kept touching it and every time he pushed it down towards he legs, he would touch her there. She felt the urge to push him away but he was too big for her.
After what seemed like ages, they stopped the car and pulled her out. Instantly, her hands moved to remove the blindfold for she wanted to see where they had stopped but at that very moment she was slapped across her face. Shocked, she gulped hard and decided not to do anything. She thought about her baba and amma. They wouldn’t know about her absence until late that evening. She had promised Lakshmi tai that she would cook for her today. Lakshmi tai was expecting a baby and had nobody to help her. As Kusum thought about her, a tear trickled down her cheek. Innocently, she asked God for forgiveness. An eerie silence enveloped her. Since the time she had been picked up by those men, she hadn’t heard a single word. Those strange looking men did not even talk to each other, though she heard some grunts coming from one of the men, probably the one sitting on her left. Kusum tried to understand what was happening to her when, suddenly, one of the men took hold of her hand and pulled her towards him. She lost her balance and, with a jerk, landed on the floor, her fingers twitching in his burly hand.
Still kneeling on the floor, she felt two hands reach out to her breasts. She wasn’t sure whether he was touching her breasts for pleasure or was her trying to make her stand up. Before she could make up her mind to stand on her feet, she felt another pair of hands on her shoulder that pushed her down. She let out her first scream. They tried to turn in every possible direction but those heavy sets of hands didn’t allow her break free. She tried and tried but the men pinched every part of her body. She cried. All she wanted at that moment was to escape from there. But that was nearly impossible. One of the men, then, tore away her clothes and she had almost nothing on. For a girl, whose sexual organs had not still not fully developed, this was a nightmare. The man pushed himself inside her. Her heart thumped so hard that she felt that she would faint. Sadly, she had to give in.


The images were still clear in her mind. She could feel that thumping again. She had felt it yesterday. She felt it every day. No matter how much she tried to forget what happened that day, the memories refused to fade away. She counted each day as it went by, waiting for her wounds to heal. Her baba and amma had supported her, but she knew that they bowed their heads in shame in front of the other villagers. She knew that nobody would marry her and that she would be boycotted soon enough. What had happened to her couldn’t be reverted, but she had to do something that would help her erase the scars. Once again, she dreamt of the heroines-she wanted to look like them, wear clothes like them, and walk in high heels like them. But this time, she dreamt with a little difference. She didn’t have the money to buy elegant clothes nor did she have any means to learn fluent English. But she would gather enough for her to live her life alone. She would give her body away. She would live a life that she did not want to lead but was forced to lead. She would simply sell herself for money.


These days, the newspapers are filled with shocking incidences wherein minor girls are raped and left on the streets to fend for themselves. Sometimes, they do not even know what is being done to them.  Those who are strong enough to handle the pressure are the ones who escape, though with a lifelong scar. Social embarrassment, sometimes, forces them to take up prostitution. We are the ones who constitute the society. We are the ones who can help them stand up again. We are the ones who can help them regain their lost confidence. Instead of blaming and boycotting them, we should accept them back in our lives. That would make all the difference. 

Saturday, July 23, 2011

It's a Small World After All

As a kid I believed that I must for sure have a look alike in some other part of the world living a life totally different from mine but perhaps thinking the same thought as me - one day our paths would cross and that would leave us dumbfounded. That 'one day' has not yet arrived and I have probably lived one-third of my life. Not that I expect some miracle to happen but I certainly do not expect that I would meet her ever, even if she is right there living in the farthest town from here. But today, I do believe that it is a small world and you'd be surprised to unexpectedly meet people from all walks of life. Since, something like this happened to me quite recently, I realised that the mere thought of developing a nearly invisible relationship with someone you already know gave me hell lot of goosebumps.

While I sat thinking about how I share a crush with my colleague, whom I didn't even know during my graduation days, I had to admit that it is a small world after all. Okay, let me not try and put it all in one sentence because I am actually ruining the story. I had this thing for a guy in college. We used to travel together in the local bus. Not exactly together. Not atleast for the first few days when we simply gave each other cold stares. Considering how social we both were, it didn't take us too long to become friends. That is when we actually started travelling together. But did I tell you guys that he was too cute to look at. Infact, there is this woman friend of mine who always got jealous whenever I got into a conversation with him. Actually, there was nothing serious about it, neither my friend's jealousy nor that cute guy's attractiveness.

I am no longer in touch with that guy but I was actually a little surprised when my colleague, who studied in the same college as him, told me that he was her crush during those days. He was already very cute and I'd be surprised if he didn't have any girls hovering behind his back but it is a little difficult for me to give in to the fact that my colleague, whom I have known for not more than 4-5 months and who has turned out to become a very good friend of mine, would have had a crush on the guy I used to like myself. The day this secret came out, the two of us had a hearty laugh and I went to crazy with excitement. Small world, huh..!!

I must say that social networking sites, especially facebook, have made this place really worthwhile. I have known cases wherein my friends have known people when there could be possibly no connection between them. A glance at the mutual friends list has, sometimes, sent shivers down my spine, which is why I have grown to believe that it is best to keep a control over our social lives. Frankly, I haven't really spent much time thinking about this but if something exciting like my case could happen then something unfortunate could also creep in. I couldn't help but imagine that if this cute guy had been my ex-boyfriend and had also been my colleague's ex-boyfriend then we could have turned our backs to each other, thereby, spoiling not only our friendship but also our professional relationship. Could happen, isn't it?

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Don't read.. It is all crap

I promise that today you'd find nothing here but crap, so if you are in a good mood consider it as a warning to read no further. It is just my sulk (a result of a not-so-nonchalant mood) that is making me feel a bit out of place. Though the easier way out is simply to put the blame on the viral fever I dealt with this week, but I'd rather take the blame myself because I really really really feel like cribbing. Well, very frankly, if it hadn't been for my silent whining, I would have been really happy at this time of the year, especially with my birthday less than 3 weeks away. I just don't feel the excitement this year. I am actually surprised at the way I am acting (and reacting) with my birthday round the corner. Every July, you would find me doing my birthday shopping and look at me I haven't even started the routine this year. Actually, I do not even want any gifts this year 'coz I am not in mood of a celebration. I am not keeping any expectations from anybody, I said ANYBODY and I mean it..!! I don't wanna feel like a fool every time. And, therefore, I will not let anybody make me feel like one. That is a promise I am making to my own self. No discussions, no arguments.

Well, seriously this ain't taking me anywhere. And so I decided to put the blame on my laptop, which perhaps had had too much of me and decided that we shouldn't be seeing each other too often. It got exactly what it wanted and is not lying on my table, refusing to budge from its decision. So it is because of that bullshit laptop that I couldn't come online and of course couldn't take out the frustration that I had long intended to throw up.

Okay, next in line to take the blame are my friends and my family. Why can't they just understand that I need to share my feelings and I need to speak up in order to vent out the greyness of my life. Is it so difficult to understand? Or maybe I have been expecting too much from them too. And like the laptop, I have decided to end my relationship with these high expectations. I must have said that a hundred time before and have always given myself in to the argument that it is the fondness towards a person that makes you expect more and more. I still agree to this fact, coz it is a fact after all. But I think I'll keep the fondness aside for sometime. It is still not time to open a deck of cards but if you still want to get even, then suit yourself. I am not gonna say a word against anybody. Sometimes, I wish that I hadn't grown up. Not because I miss my own innocence, or the fun times I had or the simple life we lead or even the friends I had around me. I want to go back to being a kid because I was much stronger then. Maybe not stronger but the approach that I had towards life was different and, perhaps, correct.

Wouldn't it be easier to keep our mouths shut especially when the mind is ready to explode? Can't we just keep it all bottled up inside us and not say a word to anybody, whatsoever, whomsoever? Probably be like a champagne bottle that has astonishingly large amounts of carbon dioxide bubbles pushed inside that would disgorge the moment the bottle is uncorked. You could actually leave that part about disgorgement. I'd rather be a champagne bottle with a replaceable cork. That sounds like a much better and healthier idea. Seriously guys, why do we have to be so complicated. I mean here I was talking about how shitty my life has become and I have gotten down to thinking about a champagne bottle and how I could live like the bubble trapped inside. No seriously, this is crazy. I think I am going crazy. I feel I am unable to control my own thoughts. I don't really know what I am talking about and if I am even making any sense or not. To be honest I am not worried about it coz I am already feeling so much better. See, I told you. Cribbing helps. I think I should do it more often. But I was quite serious about the expectation part. We, as human beings, expect a lot from others. I think I am going to try it out very seriously this time. I know I'll be hurting myself more in the beginning when I'll force my brain to stop reacting but I am sure it will be for my own benefit. Oh God, I wish it isn't that difficult. No expectations, please. I think I'll be good without it.

And for those who have actually read this post, you don't really have to leave in a comment if you can't find the absolute correct thing to say. I mean, I would love it if you do say something but that's okay. After all this one was just a piece of shit. Well, actually even I don't say the right things at the right time. And I totally suck at empathizing (read: sympathizing).

God, you better be on my side. I think I am going a bit out of my mind. Bless me.  Phew..!!

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Happy 'Second' Anniversary

Indeed it is the second anniversary of my blog. This space has been up since the past 2 years now and I didn't realize that time could fly by so fast. Exactly 2 years ago, I was skeptical about making a blog and was even more skeptical about writing. And if you still do not know the story about how this blog came into existence, then you must go back and read the post that I wrote this day last year. Gosh, I still can't believe that I have been writing all this while, knowing that I am quite moody and often do away with my short-term interests. 

I know I haven't been too regular with my blog but I must admit that I have a soft corner for all those fellow bloggers who have read my blog (and have enjoyed it). I also admit that I had a very busy schedule and had absolutely no time left for myself, because of which the distance between me, my blog and my readers increased. I have no idea where has everybody vanished. It is sad that there are very few people who would congratulate me this anniversary. Nevertheless, I am glad that I am back and can easily take out time to write (and read as well). 

I wish that my old blogger friends would drop in to wish my blog good luck for the future. Of course, I am a party lover and I love when there are more number of people partying with me. Obviously, I do not want to cut the cake alone.. 

Happy Anniversary to my blog.. 

Yay..!! I am so happy today..!! 

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Opposites Attract Or Birds Of A Feather Flock Together?

Opposites Attract was a phrase that I heard for the first time when I was about 13 years old. Specifically used in magnetic induction and electrostatics, this term seemed to hold a meaning and was always taken seriously. As I grew up, I realized that this term could be extended to relationships and I started to believe in its truthfulness, therefore, I agreed to the fact that more the differences exist between a couple, the stronger the relationship becomes. No matter how different the two individuals may be, the bond between them gets strengthened and drastically reduces the possibilities of a heartbreak. The simplest argument that a teenager's mind could use for validating this premise was that different individuals had different interests to share, different things to talk about and different ways to spend time with each other, which would eventually open the gates to a plethora of thoughts unknown to each other. As a result, the time spent together would be memorable and definitely not boring for the other one. That was the time when I started getting attracted towards boys and girls who had different interests than mine and I fluttered every time I came across someone who had a different perspective and a different approach.

This, however, did not last even half as long as I thought it would. Very soon, I realized that these concepts looked better when confined to the Physics books. The realization that relationships work best when the two individuals have similar interests dawned on me. It would be wrong to say that the concept of 'opposites attract' no longer exists but I perhaps had a biased view in this regard, since I had mostly seen (and experienced) the contrary. Neither had I known the reason that could negate my perceptions, nor had I found out the underlying factors of unlike characteristics seen among couples.

Time and again, I have come across such couples having opposite traits who happen to love each other's differences. However, the love diminishes when they realize that they do not like to spend time with each other. Sometimes, it takes a few meetings to understand whether the couple is compatible or not. In most unlikely situations (which, I believe have taken the form of more likely situations), it may take years of togetherness to realize that they are, after all, different. It may take too long to understand that it is best if the couple would separate their ways. However, I fail to understand, how long is too long?

There is no 'one correct solution' to such problems. But, if you ask me, I would say that the calculation involving the time for such problems to arise depends upon the need of the two (or one of the two) individuals. If you know what Maslow's Hierarchy is, then you can possibly understand what I am trying to put through. As and when the need of the couple gets fulfilled, they desire for something more that could add life to their relationship. This, of course, is irrespective of the fact that the couple holds similar or dissimilar interests. For instance, the relationship would work well if one of the individual is an extrovert and the other is an introvert. It would work equally well if both of them have either of the personality traits. The love or the bonding may deepen, provided there exists the same level of desire in both these cases. And this desire may be a safety need, a need for a sense of belonging, sexual need or simply a need for esteem; just like the Maslow's Hierarchy.

I have to admit that over the years, I have matured a lot. And so has my thinking. As a kid, I thought that only opposites attract. Into my late teenage years, I thought that opposites attract but then they eventually attack. Later, I thought that it is better if opposites do not attract and life would be simpler if like minds stick together. And today, I think that it does not matter if opposites attract or they don't. What matters is how they understand their own needs and more importantly, the need of their partners. This is what we need to understand. Not a word more and not a word less.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Man vs. Woman - The Beginning of Another Argument

Numerable movies have been made on love relationships but only a few of them are known to capture the darker shades of the male-female tiff. What seems to be a heavenly journey, marriages can sometimes result in a disaster, so much so that the couple may not really wish to see each other's faces. One such movie is Pyaar Ka Punchnama. Frankly speaking, it was one of the most entertaining movies I have seen in the recent past (that is, if love is entertaining). Indeed, this movie correctly conducts a post mortem of love relationships (you see, 'punchnama' when translated in English means post mortem). No, it is not true that I am pro men nor am I anti-women, but this movie was very much valid, when viewed in context of the present day scenarios. It is very difficult to understand women, who can very easily manage to be a pain in the ass, but the problem does not lie in what a women thinks but it lies in how should a man imply what a woman has thought.

Women are good in arguments. For a man to win an argument with a woman is almost like putting the toothpaste back in an already empty toothpaste tube. Someone has rightly said, "Women get the last word in every argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument." Pyaar ka Punchnama, very beautifully and very correctly, shows the worst fights that could happen between a couple in love (or so called, love). Though I am a woman and it would hurt my ego if I agree but women somehow are quite capable of picking up an argument from something as minuscule as an atom. And don't ever challenge their memory; they remember events that happened years ago and would somehow, much to the astonishment of men, find a link between the past and the present, or even future for that matter.

The men would definitely agree and women would agree too, but would not admit it. And if you don't agree, you must watch this video.

If you still have not seen this movie, I am sure you'll enjoy the light-hearted comedy. It is a must watch for this season. 

Monday, May 9, 2011

If life had been longer

Was it the heat of the intolerable summers
or was it my own irritation
that my mind, not for a second could concentrate
on the vast data bank that lay open in excel format
I sat down to count the number of days
those, which had made my life feel special
To my astonishment, I couldn't count more than 10
In these 25 years of my life,
About 9000 days have been wasted away
Alas, I could easily count the special days on my fingers
Life is short, is what I get to hear
A thought that probably makes the whole world shudder
I wonder, what would happen, if at all it had been longer
Without a doubt, there would be more moments of sorrow, agony and pain
all of which would go on like they were a sloth
Indeed, there would be happy moments too
but a little scantier than the ones that are gloomy and blue
Least in number would be the special ones
That not only had to power to make one smile
but could also bring tears to joy to the pearl like eyes
The mantra is not to live each day as it comes
but it is to live each day like there would be no tomorrow
Life is short, I wouldn't say that it is not true
But to make it longer,
"Live every moment
Laugh every day
Love beyond words"
This world would become a better place to live in

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

The Unforgettable Year

It was the year of 1938, a year which carried with it some memories that Smita would, perhaps, never forget. Even though, at this age, she had difficulty remembering things that happened just a few days back, the proceedings of the year 1938 were fresh in her mind. Lying on her death bed, she couldn't help but remember the tragic year, which had nearly ended her life. Sometimes, Smita hoped that the tragedy had indeed taken her life for it would at least be devoid of the sufferings that she had to face all through her life. She couldn't deny that the pain of an instant death is much lesser than the years of prolonged blood-sucking sufferings. But as they say, fate is unpredictable and unprecedented, her life continued just the way it fancied.

Smita, over the years, had narrated the incident innumerable times not only to her children but also to her grandchildren, who now thought of her as a brave woman but slightly jinxed by fate. "Dadu and I were swept away several meters from the land and into the sea when three giant waves emerged and sucked us in. They were enormous and we were too dumbfounded to face the challenges that lay ahead. We did not know how to swim. It seemed that our life would end in a jiffy. About 300 other people, were battling to remain at the surface. With such a chaos, it was difficult to see the land amidst so many people all of whom were clinging on to their fate, with one hope that they would be saved by the life-savers. Survival of the fittest was the only way, we could struggle to remain at the top. This was the Black Sunday", Smita would say, with a grin.

Today, it all seemed to be scarier than what it was. She was again battling for life, but this time she genuinely wanted to end her sufferings. Apart from being looked down upon, it was her age that was making her weak. Yes, she had her share of happiness when she entered into a wedlock with Sushant in January 1938. In those days, honeymoon abroad was considered to be a very big thing, but Sushant was a descendant of a Rajput Family of Rajasthan. Therefore, money was never an issue. In fact, Sushant's mother had urged them to go to a foreign destination, which wouldn't lower their status. Initially, USA and Canada were narrowed down, but Sushant wished to go to someplace, which was new to his family's history of foreign trips. It was then that he decided that they would go to Australia.

Black Sunday, the tragedy of Bondi Beach, Sydney is one of the most awe-striking disasters that the history has experienced. It not created created havoc in Australia but the after effects were evident in India as well. She and Sushant had had a real experience of the Black Sunday, while they were honeymooning in Sydney. Smita remembered the day clearly. It was one day after Hitler exercised his control over the German Military and a year and a half before the outbreak of the second world war. 5th February 1938, it was their third day in Sydney and they were sitting together under the sun eating the paranthas that they had got from India, when suddenly they found themselves in the sea between hundred of other people trying their best to remain afloat. "Sushant, kahan ho aap", she shrieked at the top of her voice for the nth time, but failed to locate him. The tremendous wave had separated them both; and Smita, who knew very little English was afraid of the consequences that she might have to face, if at all, if and only if, she survived. She prayed for the husband's life, performing the sole duty of an Indian wife. She wished that Sushant was all right.

An Australian man had saved her life and brought her ashore where she lay unconscious, maybe for a a few minutes or for hours, she had no idea. She also did not know how Sushant found her and did not even wanted to know. He was alive and that was all she could have asked for. It was this day that had not only spoiled their honeymoon but also her life. Little did she know that she everybody back home would consider her to be a curse to Sushant's life. Years went by and she lived her life, as if every day were a Black Sunday. Right from the 5th Feb 1938 till his death in 1952, not a single day went by when Smita did not cry. It wasn't that she did not get any support from Sushant, more so he was the only one who showered his love onto her. But her ill fate had taken her life for a toss. She was cursed more for his early death. Thereafter, her mother in-law did not give her a chance to breathe a sigh of relief. Smita never said a single word against her; she would silently take the wrath all through the day and spent her entire night weeping. The only thought that crossed her mind time and again was her wish to have died in that tragedy. But again, as they say, fate is unpredictable and unprecedented, her life continued just the way it fancied.

And it was because of this fate that she had spent more than 70 years of her life suffering - for one, she was always considered to be a curse and secondly, her old age had made her feeble and rickety. At 94, she was in the hospital breathing her last, while her great grandchildren sat lazily around her. They were the ones who had brought her smile back and she sure did not want to leave them behind. She felt guilty for not having thought about them before she swallowed the pills. Her life was no more in her control, but there was one thing which was very much in her control. She called out to the children and said, "Come, I will tell all of you a story." As soon as they flocked around her, she heaved a sigh of relief and began, "It was the year of 1938..."

Disclaimer: Black Sunday is a real event that happened in Sydney. The facts and figures given above are true to the best of my knowledge. However, the names and the proceedings are purely fictitious.

PS: This is the first time that I have written such a story, of which, I neither hold any view nor had any knowledge about. Please give your genuine views. I would appreciate. Thanks. 

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The Return of the Euphoria - An Epic

With more than 8 hours of being glued in one chair, with every nerve ready to explode, with tears of joy in our eyes, we couldn't have asked for more. Team India did it and they did for every person who had ever mouthed bad words at them. "It means the world to me. I have been a part of the three World Cups. This is for the nation. Thank you very much, we love you. This cup is for the people." This is what Yuvraj Singh had to say on winning the world cup. Yes, it finally came home after 28 years of wait, double of the exile period that Shri Ram had to face. And the outcome? First time in history, it was Holi, Dusshera and Diwali being celebrated with much joviality and enthusiasm all across the nation.

Looking back, I wish to apologize for the times when we, the people, criticized the time for not performing. How much did we understand the pressure being put on the two teams playing out there in the middle. We must salute the Sri Lankan captain for calling Indian team the better one. It takes a lot of courage to smile and say this, when you know that, on return , your countrymen will question. And wouldn't questions have been raised had India lost the match. "I took quite a few decisions tonight, if we hadn't won I would have been asked quite a few questions - why no Ashwin and why Sreesanth. Why no Yuvraj and why did I bat ahead of him?", said Dhoni, who had been out of form all through the world cup and took the responsibility of performing in this cut-throat competition. This is what I call true sportsman spirit.

They did it together and they did it for Sachin - the legendary face of Indian Cricket. Immediately after the win, they carried the God on their shoulders. "Sachin carried the burden of Indian Cricket on his shoulder for last 21 years, now its time we carry him on our shoulders". These words came from Virat Kohli and that was the time when I lost control of my emotions. This is what Cricket means in India. It is the only religion that unites the country. And this feeling was evident across the country where people who were unknown to each other hugged at every boundary, prayed at every drop of the wicket, cried for the loss of wickets and had tears of joy for the incredible win. Cricket is a religion in India and nobody, nobody at all, fails to worship it.

I always knew that Sachin is considered to be someone, who holds the top position in the team, but this is the first time that I saw that the entire team respect his cricket career more than their own. Every member of Team India played in unison and they got the world cup for him. Such (Sach) is God, Such (Sach) is Life..!! This is it and the world cup is ours. History re-creates itself and we showed them that we are the undisputed champions. The boys did it.

India bleeds blue..!!

Monday, March 28, 2011

Yes, it does matter

Sabina smiled as she opened her eyes. The dream last night lingered on like a hangover. How she wished that it engulfed her right this moment, just like it did when he was right in front of her eyes.  It was just yesterday that she saw him. His face was fresh in her mind. His neat movement made her whole world sway. If he is the most beautiful thing in this world, indeed she’d be the luckiest one to have him. And it was just this thought that made her go on. Though, she was a small town girl, but his presence made her feel like a princess. No, it made her feel like a queen.


Money had never attracted Sabina even though her family scarcely had any. All their lives, they had lived on bread and butter, but never had any regrets. Life was smooth and they enjoyed every bit of it. But now that Sabina was of marriageable age, things were getting difficult. Her father, who worked as an employee in a small bank, had been trying to save as much as possible since Sabina was just 8 years old. He had seen days when he and his wife had to go without food but he never played around with his savings. Consistently, the money poured in the savings account but none was ever spent. Such was the life that Sabina and her parents saw.

While her parents toiled for hours together and earned their living, Sabina loved to spend. She was always an intelligent child. Her beliefs were crisp and she was very clear with them. Aware of the plight of her family, Sabina never thought twice before spending her money. With God’s grace, she had plenty. No, it wasn’t that she was a bad person, who did not want to give her money to her parents. She once had transferred money into their account, but they had transferred it back. She bought many presents on the pretext of giving something to them, but it was all returned. Sabina tried everything but her parents were a little orthodox and considered it an omen to take money from their only daughter. 25 she was and she had no body to spend her money on, except her own self.

A post graduate from Stephen’s College, Delhi University, Sabina worked in a multinational and loved her life. Though she was not seeing anyone, she had a lot of guys running after her, wanting to get cozy with her. Be it her good looks or her lady like elegance, she was always amongst the most desired women around. Definitely, Sabina loved all the attention that she received. And the best part about her was that she knew how to manage her admirers so much so that people thought that she had oomph. Well, actually she lived her life like one of those super hot girls, like in the movies.


And when she saw him standing down below, she knew he was the one. In a jiffy, the memories of the men she had dated till now vanished into thin air. Nothing remained. She felt an empty space inside. Not only this, she got the feeling that she had lived a worthless life. Suddenly, she had an urge to be swept away from her feet and taken into the arms of this young man. Her life, on seeing him, looked complete. She could almost feel her heart racing. No, it was pounding. It felt as if her heart was going to burst out. She fluttered like a fish, which has been thrown out of water and is gasping for breath. She was hot everywhere and desired him. The deafening noise of her flutters didn’t make her realise that he had noticed her too. And that made Sabina aware of her appearance. She badly wished that she could get hold of a mirror just to see if her hair, her clothes and her makeup were in place. How helpless she felt. And as he approached her, she just wanted to bury herself into anything, just anything that was big enough to hide her.

With every step he took, her heart raced faster. She had had many guys in her life but none had made her feel so under-confident about her own beauty. With others, she was the undisputable winner, but with him right in front of her eyes, she felt like a worm, ready to wriggle and perhaps, just vanish deep into the ground, only to stop until she reached the core. Her heart skipped a beat. And as he approached her, she could see his eyes scanning her from the top to the bottom, while stopping in between for a stare. Sabina felt her adrenaline rush when he came up to the bar and grabbed the empty chair right next to her. Öne Tequila Shot”, he said to the bartender, who nodded and turned his back to them, facing the huge shelf that contained numerous bottles stacked neatly. 

She knew he was looking at her but tried to ignore his gaze. Inside, she could feel her heart swell with pride. Sabina looked in the opposite direction and let out a devilish laugh. She was sure that he was impressed by her toned figure and ofcourse, her bulging chest, which was nearly visible from her low cut dress. Sabina smiled at herself and lowered herself in the front till her boobs touched the counter. Her intention was just to make him notice her erotic moves. And he did.


Naman wrapped his arms around her, while she unbuttoned him. Sabina moved closer and suddenly let out a gasp as he pushed her back on to the bed. Slowly, he removed his hands from her shoulders and moved them down to her belly button. He bent down and kissed her half naked body. With his tongue, he circled around the belly button and moved upwards. He unclasped her bra and almost ripped her off it. Taking her boobs in his palms, he murmured, “You’re beautiful”. She just smiled. Using the index fingers of both his hands, he touched her nipples and made extremely slow circular motions. While doing so, he reached out to her right ear lobe and licked it. Sabina felt that she was on top of the world. She had never been as aroused as she was with his touch. She didn’t want him to stop. He, then, bit her on her neck and licked the wound. Unable to control, Sabina pushed him back and climbed on him. She wanted to empower him and impress him in her own sexual way. She just wanted to be the devil and eat him up. Her hunger was evident in her eyes.

She slowly moved on top of him and played with her fingers. Erotically, she twisted her tongue and breathed heavily. She raised both her arms, as if in a yawn and moved her head backward. He could see her boobs moving as she raised herself. He did not want to miss this chance, so he got up and took them in his hands and caressed them. She moaned. Since, he was much stronger than her, he continued caressing them with all his might. Her moaning grew louder. He did not stop. He took one of them in his mouth and almost bit it. She screamed but she did not stop him. Sabina was enjoying every moment and so was he. Slowly, he slid his fingers between her legs and felt her soft flesh. She was hot and wet inside and he could see that. He moved his fingers further inside and rubbed her, slowly and carefully. That exited her more. It was then she realised that he still had his denim jeans on. She clumsily unzipped him and took it off. He was fully aroused, now it was her chance to know that. While, he still had his fingers inside her, she licked him till she could feel his urge getting stronger and wilder. He adjusted himself and was ready to penetrate himself, when she suddenly stopped him and asked, “Don’t you have a condom.” He raised his eyebrows and moved his head in denial. Sabina got up and hurriedly put her clothes on. Without a word she left, leaving the guy a bit too perturbed.


(A year later)

Sabina was lying in the bed, smiling to her heart’s glory. She dreamt about Naman, yet again. Though they never really had each other, she still felt that he was right there waiting for her. The memories of his smile still had the spark to bring a smile on her face. His slow and precise movements, while he caressed her, made her desire grew stronger. But, it was her own sweet way of judging men. She was an intelligent woman and her beliefs were strong. Sex was fun but it wasn’t something that she would play with. With a sparkling smile in her eyes, she tossed and turned. If only, he had a condom that day, they would still be together. And she would perhaps have been the queen. She missed him for sure.

Moral – Keep a pack handy. You never know what women have in mind. 

PS: I had thought I'd give this story a serious ending, but my mind just changed at the end moment. :D

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The cruel past persists in the future

Standing on the edge, she could feel the cold wind piercing her skin as it pushed her back and she tried her best to balance herself. Scared of the moment when thoughts became her enemy, she stood there solid as a stone. She was afraid to think. She was afraid to go any further. The mere thought nearly choked her to death. She could almost feel a lump forming inside her throat, but gathering all her courage, she tried to gulp it down. Remembering her mother's words made her weaker."Mistakes are the trickiest thing that could happen to anybody", her mother had once told her. Loud and clear the words sounded in her ears. Nimisha, could feel her heart beating fast. In a jiffy, her thoughts too took her back to the cozy evening, when she had been alone with her mother and they talked about their life at length. "They are committed by humans, and humans only. But the least you can do is to take lessons from your mistakes and move on". 

Nimisha, remembered her words. And she could also hear the silent sobs that her mother had let out, while she explained about how her mistakes had affected her life. Nimisha's father had left them when she was just three years old. All through her life, she had called him names and she swore that she would continue till the day she died. However, the truth had hit her hard and she hated herself for not knowing the truth all these years. And even when her Mother was the culprit, she couldn't help but hate her father even more. And today, standing there alone, with her back towards her car, she still abused him. But for a different reason. A reason, which she could not ignore. A reason that had been tossed out in the open by her mother.

"It is not just important to learn from them, but you must implement them as much as you can. It is true that mistakes make you more experienced. But it is also true that the effect of your mistake will haunt you for a lifetime." With that last line, her heart skipped a beat. She had to give in to the awful truth that mistakes, once committed, leave a deep mark. Her mother committed a mistake about 27 years back. She regretted. She gave in. She learnt from it. And then she moved out of it. But she had to suffer at every stage. She suffered at the time she was wrong. She suffered at the time she regretted. She suffered even when she had already learnt from her mistakes. And she suffered even today after 27 years when she had a new life. In short, she had to suffer every time only because she made a mistake in her life 27 years back.

Nimisha could never understand the thin line that existed between forgiveness and holding a grudge. With her mother's blessings, she had always taken to the right path in life. Forgiveness was her key to happiness. But she could never understand why other's had difficulty in forgiving their counter parts. This is the only grudge she had in her mind for her father. Atleast today, it was the only grudge.

But if all that her mother had told her was true, then forgiveness holds no value. And she would not forgive her father for not forgiving her mother. Nimisha could forecast her own sufferings. She could very firmly negate all those who had told her that if she learnt from her mistakes, she would emerge a winner. She realized that if you commit a mistake, then you would eventually have to suffer. The world will make sure that you suffer. Time and again, they will remind you of the mistakes you had committed. No matter how good you are at heart, you would have to suffer.Realizing this, Nimisha knew that her life would not be any different from her mother's for she too had made mistakes. Mistakes that were similar to her mother's. "The past cannot be changed, but the future will be a reflection of what you did in the past." She still did not know if it was correct, but she had no reason to disagree. Taking her mother's words, she repeated to herself, "The past cannot be changed, but the future will be a reflection of what you did in the past" and then she took a step forward, only to get lost in a whirlpool of death. 

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The right virtues

This is the time when I should have been in bed, sleeping, considering the fact that I have to wake up early. Infact, I was already in my bed trying to sleep but my thought wandered to the discussion we had during the lunch hour in the office today. I wasn't really a part of that discussion since I did not want people to get judgmental about the way I think. But I listened carefully to each and every word they said.

I don't really remember, how the discussion started but it was something to do with the "sankar" that the people of Indian origin, who no longer live here, have. My colleagues somehow despise those Indians who live, precisely, in the western countries and speak English with an accent of the west. The children who are born and brought up in the European as well as American countries speak with an accent which their friends from these countries have. One of my colleague thinks that the parents of these children are to be blamed since they did not control their accent and teach them the correct "Indian English" accent. Another colleague proudly narrated an incident of some child (some way related to her) who greets her grandparents by saying "namaste". Now, this colleague of mine believes that this is what "sanskar" is all about. I am sorry but I fail to agree.

The sanskars do not come by greeting somebody with "namaste", if you do not really respect the person being greeted. If you do not even know what "namaste" means, then what is the point for doing something which does not make sense to you. If this is how sanskars come, then I believe every individual living in India would become a completely "sankari" person. For instance, if, being an Indian, I am an English Language lover and I do not know what a a few words mean in Hindi, and I have read hundreds of English books but not even a single Hindi comic book, then would anybody be right in saying that I do not have any sankar. Only because I do not know the Hindi translation of "Snowfall", or I get confused between words like "aarambh" and "prarambh" (they still confuse me), then nobody can make a haywire statement about my sanskars.

The children who have lived in American and European countries, have learnt to speak their respective accents. I don't think that the children or the parents are to be blamed. I do not understand what is wrong if they speak in their own accent, which is a different from the Indian English accent. I do not even understand why do a lot of Indians consider other Indians talking with an American or British accent to be a show off. True it is that a lot of celebrities have goofed up big time by faking their accent, but it definitely does not mean that everybody else is a fake. And does that mean that a 5 year old, or maybe even a 10 year old, Indian kid living in US or UK, would be faking his/her accent too. Do you really think that the poor child understands the difference between the accents, or is wise enough, rather clever enough, to fake it.

I sometimes do not understand what has the accent got to do with the sanskar. I also do not understand why we, Indians, consider it to be such a big issue. I don't remember, but I read somewhere about this research which was conducted on some kids. The kids were born in one country but were brought up in different countries, amongst people with different cultures and ethos. All the kids learnt the values of the cultures of the country they were brought up in. There was one intense example under this research which said that a group of these kids was also sent to live with people who could not speak. And these kids, never learnt to speak or express themselves. And talking in American English, British English or Indian English is such a minute thing,

A person living in India, who is proficient in Hindi and Sanskrit could be less sanskari than a person living in the US, who doesn't know any other language except English. Sankars do not come by the language you speak, but they come by the virtues you follow. Yes, it is good to know your mother tongue, but it is not necessarily a way to judge a person's sankar.

I really think that the sankars imbibed in any individual are reflected through their actions and not entirely by their words.

Friday, January 7, 2011

I think I know, why I am getting grumpy

Disclaimer: This is not one of those posts, wherein, I crib left, right and center. Neither, does this post exhibit any level of happiness.  But, it is the result of my 'deep' introspection. Well, maybe I have to re-think if the introspection was indeed deep. 

Since a few days, I have been quite grumpy. I tried to reason with myself about what could be the possible reasons for my crankiness. For your convenience, I have tried to keep them short and crisp. 


Reason 1: I spend my entire day writing. Every day, from morning to evening. And still, I miss writing. Actually, I miss my blog. I miss my stories

Reason 2: Today, I liked a pair of heels at woodland, which were perhaps the most comfortable heels that I have ever worn. Sadly, they were half an inch bigger than my size. I wish I had a dynamite. I would have blown up that outlet for sure.

Reason 3: I really want to get hold of a nice book and read it to my heart's content. I haven't been reading at all. Not even the newspaper.

Reason 4: A while ago, I got myself enrolled in a course. I just can't find the time to complete it. (Circumstances were different when I got myself enrolled. Seriously, it is not an excuse. I really want to add to my knowledge. I mean, seriously.

Reason 5: For Christ's sake, I just want to stop feeling lethargic. "The New Year" has begun and I really need to wake up. Gah..!! My laziness..!!

Reason 6: Speaking of new year, I think I need to rejuvenate myself. Not with a spa but with a party. Well, a spa would do wonders too. (Look at me. I am already jumping at the mere thought)

Reason 7: I need a break. I seriously do. And if you think that you have read that here before, then you are right. I need a break every few weeks. Consider it to be my routine round of cribbing. *Sigh*

Reason 8: Sleep. Yes, I need that too. If I am in the middle of writing a blog instead of being in bed at this hour, knowing that I have to wake up early, then I needn't say a word. Apparently, this is a case of insomnia.

PS: I saw the movie Band Baaja Barat today and I quite liked it. Oh, did I mention that I left early from the office and it did lift my mood.

PPS: While I was in school, I was extremely bad at making bullet point. I guess, I have improved a lot since then. 

PPPS: I promise I'll post a story soon. 

PPPPS: I know, this post was completely useless. I just wanted to make my presence felt on my blog. Clever, ain't I..??