Will you marry me?

When I was a little girl with stars in my eyes and dreams of the perfect prince and fairytale life (well, at 15 who doesn't), I could never have anticipated the realities of adult life and its attendant miseries. One of those being getting married.

I turn 24 later this month, and my extended family has left no stones un-turned to remind me that now is the time to "put myself in the market". Suddenly I've become a perishable item (like milk perhaps) because I've been told that I have a "shelf-life"! When did I make the journey from being a fresh-faced collegiate to curdled milk?

As a result of all these persuasions, I've started glancing at some of the matrimonials that appear on Sunday, and those that appear online on popular matrimonial and dating sites. I thought I'd share a small selection with you, and ask that you vote on your favorite entry.

1. MBA Topmost US Business School, MS, B.Tech (IIT), New York Investment Banker, Six figures, US Citizen...Brahmin, visiting Dec, younger looking 47 (WOW. where did he discover the fountain of youth. Just as I'm beginning to wonder how we let such a perfect specimen leave our shores undetected, I realize there's more.)

Good personality...caring, wide intellectual, artistic, spiritual interests (I guess than means he doesn't see porn ever), innocent divorcee (Awwwwww...poor baby), brief visa marriage (Spiritual, innocent eh??), no issues (Maybe he's shooting blanks?), traditional values (Which probably explain why he agreed to a visa marriage), open to living in India (He just got pink-slipped, and hopes your industrialist daddy can gift him a couple of factories)

2. Attractive male. 35. Single (Really?? I was wondering why you were here), seeking (1) Female (Thanks for clearing that up) (2) Between 23 and 24 (3) Weight between 51 and 52 kgs (4) Height between 5 ft and 5.2 ft (5) very fair(6) Education: Only JMC passout with B.Com(H) (WOW, talk about specifics.)

Guy is open minded (Yes, thats quite obvious with his requirements isnt it??). Only girl should convince boy (So you're saying the girl should serenade him?? Court him?? What??). Boy can run really fast (HUH???!!!???)

And if you thought it was just men who could put out the odd one (excuse the pun), here are some ladies for you:

3. General: i am 24; female; engineer from india; good loking; very intelligent and caring; my colour is fair. i make good foods (Maa ke haath ke khane ka swaad)

Looking for: i don't like people - who r flirts. such timepassers r full time waste (Did that rhyme?). i hate useless; who r crowd (I think the dear girl meant coward, but whatever right). if good people r on earth; they wil come on net (Honey, whats a girl like you doing in a place like this); if bad thn so.....(She's philosophical too...so who is snapping this one up??) As a man he shld take care of his upcoming life n make sure that none interferes in his own personal decisions (She's going to make sure any interfering saas, nanand types are taken care of if you know what I mean ;-)) In short a man who is bold n not old (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA).

4. Looking for: shld laugh easily and make me laugh 2. not too many hang ups - or shld keep them to himself. shld be ready to do crazy stuff at a moments notice. doesnt need to be adonis, jude the obscure can stay away though. smoke, dope,drink-expect the same 2. walk,talk, sing, bla bla together....point is looking for a partner. we can pretend that youre the boss though! (BALL BUSTER)

5. General: i'm a fun loving girl lookin for a partner to have fun with....if u know what i mean...i really like to party and enjoy fast goin people who wudnt mind one night stands and r not so stuck up on their emotions (eh em...sommin tells me that some of the boys reading this will be leaving comments asking for more details on this lady)

Appearance: i like wearin revealing clothes i have the perfect body for it..i think my eyes and my sex appeal r my assets

I forwarded this last profile to my scheming matchmaking maternal uncle to give him an idea of the kind of amazing competition I would have out there. He said not to worry and that he would search out more such entries on the sites and send mails to the site administrators. Ever since then he has actually stopped trying to convince my mom about the need to marry me off. Instead we find him forever glued to his monitor with a stupid grin on his face.

What can I say people. She shoots, she scores!

Highlights

Its been a long hiatus hasn't it. I've missed the whole writing my heart out experience.

Here's the highlights -

1. It was mum's b'day last Saturday. I bought her an LG B2100 mobile phone. Now I'm a die-hard Nokia girl, but this was the cheapest camera phone available @ 6000 bucks. Good to get mum started on. She's quite fond of playing around on her cell and I figured it was about time she moved onto a new toy. Ofcourse its a different matter altogether that I've been messing with this mobile more than she has. The cell isn't a patch on a Nokia, but LG has this neat website from where you can download cool stuff, and transfer data between mobile and PC without using bluetooth etc. I'm scared of the bluetooth dongle. Don't ask me why.

2. We had an office party on Tuesday night. I can't for the life of me figure out why it was organized on a Tuesday night. Perhaps they think that folks will drink lesser in mid-week parties, so organizing one in such a manner would save money. I wonder what's next - washable toilet paper maybe? A bunch of the senior management types decided that they would put up a dance show for us lesser mortals. Its bad enough that we wonder what work they do on a daily basis, but seeing them put up a well-coordinated show confirms my long-held suspicions about their utilization at work. One lady infact took things a little too far by wearing very few clothes, and dancing in a skirt on stage, exposing her lacy whites for the world to see. A colleague commented quite snidely today that our lady of the lacy whites has been "climbing the corporate ladder lad-by-lad."

3. I was supposed to give the boss some utilization data. Like all good quality- certified companies, mine also requires us to enter time data in a system on a daily basis under the appropriate buckets. At the end of the week, they do some complex mathematical analysis to figure out exactly how over or under utilized the workers are (if you're a blue-eyed baby, you're over-utilized, and if you're loved as much as a genital wart, then you're obviously under-utilized). I am quite a stickler (or OCD as my boss says) for entering data in the correct buckets. Last week, I hit a near orgasmic high when I realized that all my data was entered and accounted for in the neatest possible fashion. The sad realization that I'm truly single hit me at that exact moment.

4. There's a nice fellow who sits next to me and my snot boy neighbour these days. Me and brit accented old neighbour were chatting new guy up, when new guy casually mentions that he's been scuba diving for about 6 years. Ever so often, when he has friends down from Europe, he takes them to the reefs in Andaman. Immediately afterwards, new guy said he was hungry. Seeing as how he's somewhat cute, if already taken, I offered him an apple. He politely accepted and told me that this entire month he's on a fruit only diet. He also casually mentioned his last career as journo, and how he's an art dealer. Last week, new guy was attacked by some thugs at night. Instead of running away, he actually fought them, and came to work the next day with scars all over. Man, talk about belonging to another planet. New guy also apparently has a fiancee he dotes on. I once overhear him saying that he didn't care what his mom thought, but he loved his woman the way she was. The chances of a guy saying that are about 1 in 1,0000000000 as a friend at work put it. I know I should feel hope that men like that are around, but I just felt a bit inadequate. Gimme a guy who drinks beer, watches cricket, and is confused by women any day.

Since the last 2 weeks were spent on a bit of a roller coaster ride, I thought I'd compile a short list as I went along -

Things/People I Love -

1. Approachable bosses
2. Confident women at work
3. The auto wallah who actually agrees to go by a non-tampered meter
4. The one finance guy who actually helps you out
5. Friends who let you get drunk and vent without passing judgment
6. Mums who say "I think you know how to use this phone better than me, so why don't you take it"
7. Retired uncles and aunts who insist on scanning the matrimonials and actually make you laugh by reading out the funniest adverts. There was one that said "girl with defect preferred"
8. Folks who leave behind comments on blogs
9. Payroll
10. The sales person at the cash counter who says "Madam, this trouser is accidently marked at 1500, but its actually on sale for 1000"

Things/People I Hate -

1. People who sit really close to you at trainings, and try to chat you up.
2. When you refuse to respond, the same people will force burp throughout the meeting
3. People who chew their food with their mouths open.
4. Men who douse themselves in cologne so much so that they merely have to walk by and I have a sneezing fit.
5. Women at work who are on the phone constantly discussing everything but work. This includes discussions about satin petticoats and the color of their kids' potty.
6. Rude cab drivers.
7. The guy who insists on serving chapatis at lunch, wears a plastic glove, but scratches his balls anyway.
8. Project managers who first assign you to Project A, then change their minds and give you Project B, then again throw you to Project A, and then again to Project B.
9. HR
10. The sales person at the store who insists "Madam, yeh apka size nahi hai"

Here we go again...

Last night, college buddies and I finally met up again, and there were no blasts in Delhi. The curse has been lifted.

We headed out to my favourite pub. Me, and 6 guys. Can you imagine how the over-protective servers and manager would've reacted! We had a fantastic time. One of these guys has just returned from London after 2 years, and I was amazed - NO CHANGE WHATSOEVER. I've had the pleasure of meeting people who after week long trips to Bangkok develop Americanized accents. Long Island Ice Tea, Sex at the Movies, Margarita, Screwdriver, Brain Hammerage - all our favorites flowed like water. I pointed out Harvey Ballbanger to the guys, but they all politely declined with pained expressions on their faces. We danced the night away, and yours truly has had memory flashes all day today.

Anyway, I had thought that folks would've had enough of Gen 1 and Gen 2 of open-mouth-insert-foot situations, but colleagues and readers have contributed more instances. Some were left behind on the Comments section, some were mailed to me, and yet more were furtively sent to me on instant messenger at office.

1. Lalit Singh said...
Oft seen in mails
Please revrt back in case of queries
Yeah rite.. since i can't revert forward. guess thats the only choice I have

Or during presentations
Can u please repeat that again..
Sure thing!! right after I repeat it for the first time

"my cousin brother"..
oh ..so he's ur cousin n brother as well

"Kerosene oil"
what else do u have in kerosene?

"why dont u come for dinner tomm night"
Hmmmmm... lets have that dinner tommorow morning.. what say?

2. silverine said...
There was this tame one from my office.

We are very grateful for your kind gesticulation

3. Vaibhav said...
Or when people get clothes for (from a recent experience) office farewells... "How did you know my size!!" Then theres "Blow harder!" at birthday cake cutting.. er... ceremonies...

4. Anonymous - dude/dudette, next time leave a name plzz
Got this from a colleague at office "For the trek I had taken just a stick and a few old newspapers and had to borrow a sleeping bag. That lady saw my equipment and laughed before lending her bag to me.."

5. The elderly camel said...
At a sports quiz I attended some time back, in an visual round, the quiz master held up Raman Lamba's picture and asked us to identify him. One team gets it right. Says the q-master, " Thats right. Its Raman Lamba in one of his favourite positions", referring to Lamba standing at silly point.

6. From office colleague - you know who you are...and if I tell anyone who you are, you're gonna kill me, aren't ya?

- Female Graphic Designer(GD) to Web Developer(WD) about a graphic file: "Daal diya andar?" WD: "Ek minute."

- Fellow traveller in sumo responding crankily to someone who asked her to close the window to keep out the chill breeze: "Yeh mera hai, aur mein kholke rakoongi." (happened recently)

- Female employee looking at the laptop: "Mera Inbox aaj khul nahin raha."

- Female employee to Tech guy: "Yeh unzip nahin ho raha." Tech guy "Abhi aake dekhta hoon."

- From my college days. Girl complained to chemistry lab assisstant that the lab equipment he gave her was not of the right size. Lab assistent replied: "Aapko yeh thodi dhekhna hai ki yeh badaa hai ke chota hai. Aapke lia bus useful hona chaahia."

- This is actually supposed to have happened in an NIIT center. This slightly eccentric instructor was chatting up a girl and asking her what she would be during the summer hols. She replied, "Oh, I am going to Mount Abu." He shot back, "Who is Abu?"

Foot in the Mouth Disease

(For those who've just tuned in, this is the second in a series of entries about highly unadvisable things to say around offices, and as you'll discover, other seemingly benign places like the neighbourhood vegetable vendor)

To start off, I bumped into a senior from college on Sunday evening in a yuppie market. She ended our brief conversation by saying, "It was great banging into you." "Gee thanks", I said. "Pleasures all mine", almost went through, but I stopped it in time, as I did the smirk on my face.

Monday evening at the neighbourhood veggie shop, where all the fruits and vegetables were set out, with prices prominently displayed, a woman walked up to the vendor and said, "Kela dikhao". Eh?

Among the other things I heard last week -

1. "Sir, I am holding it for you" - Benetton salesman to a friend about a couple of suits he had reserved for him ahead of a trip to the US.
2. My vendor again called me and said, "I am working on it at my end." I believe I should guide him to this blog.
3. Some one at Church actually said, "The ladies will be discarding clothing of all kind ahead of the fete." I have a strange feeling, he wanted to bang his head into the wall (pun totally unintended) when this statement would've replayed in his head.
4. My favourite pub introduced a new cocktail called "Harvey Ballbanger". Now, "Screaming Orgasm", "Sex on the Beach", "Cum Soon" I had gotten used to, but really "...Ballbanger". Now that's original.
5. Someone from Corporate Communications at work recently described a colleague as "All fart no shit". I'd never heard those words being used together in that way before.
6. Apart from that, the funniest stuff I've read was left behind by readers on the comments section of the last blog.

To cap the week, on Friday, we were told to get into the spirit of Diwali at office. You know, decorate your bays, dress in sarees, kurta pajaymas etc. Part of an urban phenomenon that got played across MNC offices all over Noida, Gurgaon and Delhi. So anyway, we had women turn up in pretty sarees. Lots of different blouses. Some deep down the front. Some deep down the back. Some deep at both locations. Yours truly played it safe in a suit. Wearing a saree, and travelling even in an office bus does not cut it for me. Either the saree would've reached, or I would've. Worst still, I could've had a Draupadi-like situation, with the bus door and the seat edges to blame. My team was totally not in the spirit of decorating our bays. The other folks however, were much more enthusiastic. They had floating candles, rangoli, streamers, and best of all, rows upon rows of marigold strings. So much so, it resembled more a suhagraat set, than a corporate stronghold.

Saturday evening, I caught Legend of Zorro. Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta Jones have about as much chemistry this time around as 2 asexual sponges at the bottom of the ocean. Anyway, the movie ended at about 6, and I headed back home, to get dressed again, and go out for a college gang get-together. Now, the last time I had caught up with everyone, there had been blasts at the movie halls, and we had all been at Priya. You can imagine my surprise when just as we were all about to step out of home, my boss called me up to inform me about the 3 blasts in Delhi. Needless to say, the plan was cancelled for the evening.

I feel horrid for everyone who lost family during the festival season. As for Delhi, I must say, this city has a capability to remain un-daunted by just about anything. I mean, the whole "monster in East Delhi" thing a few months back scared Delhities more than the bomb blasts did. While I admire this "get-up-dust-the-knees-live-again" attitude our city has, I still do wish we'd also exhibit some solidarity atleast with people of our own city. I mean, half an hour after the blasts, folks around where I live starting bursting crackers! Getting back to life, I get, this flagrant dis-regard I dont. NDTV has starting a campaign to light a diya at 8 PM tonight to express this solidarity. I have my light. I hope everyone else does too.

As for the terrorists who thought they'd get us to "shit bricks" as a colleague succintly puts it, "UP YOURS".

From the mouths of ...

I used to thoroughly enjoy the outake shots at the end of all Jackie Chan movies. You know, where they show him struggling to remember a dialogue, and then the whole crew laughs. Or like when he somersaults backwards from the 89th floor of a building, while escaping from iron chains, and then they show him crack his skull open, be taken to the hospital and all that.

Life has plenty of such bloopers. Here is an example of items heard around office.

During casual/official conversations that turn interesting or aggravating -

1. "Oh teri ben&#$&&^#%&#" (since I work in North India, this should require no translation)
2. "Or teri ma&#$&&^#%&#" (since I work in North India, this should require no translation)
(Notice, that men are never referred to, while mommies and didis most often are)

During lunch -

1. While eating vegetable kofta curry/vegetable munchurian:
a. "These balls are hard"
b. "These balls taste bad"
c. "These balls are raw"
d. "These balls are too big"
(Notice, how any sentence with the word "ball" in it begins to sound dirty. For instance, telling someone with a slow mouse to "Clean the ball yaar")

In formal e-mails -

1. To client: "I assure you that we will try and satisfy you with our full rage of services"; alternatively, "Its working at my end"
2. To vendor: "You need to improve things at your end"
(Notice again, that usage of the terms "my end" and "your end" may sound formal, but really aren't

Here are some of the winners from last week at my office -

1. To the functional manager during a presentation he was making - "So, how long is your thing?"
2. My client teasing me about my vertically-challenged frame (he's 6 feet 5 inces, i'm 5 feet, no inches) - "You'll fit right between my legs"
3. Male client to me while asking for help with a laptop bag - "will you unzip it for me"
4. Senior Manager to me - "Did you cum yesterday"; alternatively, "Are you cuming?"

And fnally, the GRAND PRIZE goes to -

Male colleague in cab, when 2 more women sitting at the back with us, finally left, giving us much needed leg space - "Now you can spread your legs"!!

Valium please

Not a good Monday by any standard. Went to work after a 5 day vacation with high-viral fever. Couldn't stay home coz no one would've believed me. I can't believe I am already waiting for Saturday.

Lots of good cheer for other folks in my office though. 2 consultants got absorbed into the company as full-time employees. Good for them.

And here is the root to my bad mood - a really nice girl at office got engaged to her boyfriend. They are a nice, sweet couple, and I'm really happy for her. It was so idiotic that whatever free time I got, all I could think about was what could have been and isn't. I know there's going to be the whole "grieving" period and all that, but c'mon...I think I'm even more pissed at myself for feeling this way.

Can someone gift me a vacation to Goa please? Or to Leh? Or get me a book-writing deal or something.

Catching Up

Its been a lazy couple of weeks at work. This week, I've had to go in to work only for 2 days, and have been off all the others on account of the festive season. I love India.

The boss is holidaying in Goa. Since the cat is away, the mice have been having a ball of a time. The women have been chasing Navrathra food round-the-clock because they are fasting (the irony of that one never ceases to amaze me), and the men have pretended to bitch about it. All in all, a good time.

We moved to a new building and seats were re-arranged. I used to sit next to this brilliant colleague, whose only oddity was a penchant for talking to himself every now and then in a strange British accent. I considered it an eccentricity, but I must admit, it worried me some every now and then.

My new seat mate happens to be quite a bundle of oddities. He's a veritable quiz master and likes to question me about EVERYTHING. "Is your mouse working?" "Is the keyboard ok?" "Does the tray move?" Are you going for lunch?" "Are you using your headphones?" "Why have you colored our hair?" "Are you working?" He does this incessesantly the entire day till I go stark raving mad. Some days I wonder if he may just start questioning me about my morning bowel movements. Quite capable he is too. To top it all off, he loves digging his nose and making snot balls, which he proceeds to launch by flicking them off his fingers. He also likes to scratch his balls. Yesterday, he was explaining something to another colleague, and throughout the conversation, everytime he made a point, he pulled out one nostril hair. I saw 5 land on his table. After this, he casually saunters over to me, and puts his paws inside my cheeslings pack and eats some. Now I'm a nice girl, who likes to share, but there are limits. I felt no regret whatsoever throwing that packet straight into the bin. The very thought that some poor woman has to sleep with him makes me want to loose dinner. I miss the British accent.

I ended up at my favourite pub about 5 times in the last 10 days. The staff have grown accustomed to seeing me with now ex-bf for many years. They know my staple order of Bacardi Breezers, or LIITs and my habit of getting high with both pretty easily. I get princess treatment from them, and quite like the idea that I can go in and order my "regular" and get it too. However, I made the tactical error of going there this time with other male buddies. The hosts and manager kept doing double takes when they saw me with these different males - incidently a different one each time. I refused to go 2 days back, but ex-bf, now good friend, made me go to face my demons. It was not funny when the manager came and asked me if everything was ok. Have decided to find new favourite joint. Somehow the idea that I need to update the pub manager on my personal life makes me a tad uncomfortable.

I guess its all a bit like divorce. I got the restaurant, but he got the pub.

I've been having these mid-night girlie chats with a friend's fiancee. The woman has become like my spiritual guru. I love talking with her, but she has a very irritating habit of making me face home truths. She thinks my whole "we are good friends" policy is a load of bullshit. She has told me that I'm in denial. I've told her I'm not. Apparently saying that is one of the signs.

I caught Red Eye and Salaam Namaste. Former is good time, latter was so confusing in the second half, I didnt know which Hollywood reproduction I was watching.

My first boss's husband is in town these days. This was a couple I was extremely fond of. He was the first person to take me drinking, and both husband-wife were very protective of me. They were also loads of cheap fun. Sort of like your favourite naughty relatives. He's in the movie business, and dresses with quite a flair. Am thinking of taking him to the pub. Just what I need. To be caught drinking with a 40 yr old who loves to wear skeleton ear studs.

I bought an LG Flatron with surround sound today. Nothing like retail therapy. However, for some reason I cannot fathom, I asked the sales man if it came with a remote. I think a few conversations around me actually stopped. Now I know what "pregnant pause in a room" means.

Thanks to all the great messages folks have been leaving here, and the mails I've received. I am back to embarrasing myself on a regular basis, so I know life is moving on...

Winds of Change

Since its time for a change all around, I thought I'd give the blog a new look. So what do you guys think?

I must say, its been gratifying to see the comments on my previous blog. Believe me, my ego feels nice and pampered. So please keep fighting over me, and leaving numbers :-))

Sweet Nothings...

It seems to be the season for heartache.

Everyone around me is ending friendships or relationships. A girlfriend recently ended a 10-year association with a parasitic best friend from school. She was distraught. Somehow the loss of even a bad friend hurts more than the loss of a lover. Another guy I know, broke up with his girlfriend of 4 years because things just changed after a 6-month stint she had in the US. Proves my point that distance just makes the heart wander. Yours truly ended a marathon 4.5 years herself a couple of weeks ago. For those of you who thought I was going to become introspective and sensitive enough to write about other folks' pain, you got it all wrong. Nope, this entry is again all about me. Thank God I have my sense of humor and love for self :-)

So here I am. Single. Not really sure how to mingle. I'm not tough enough to end the friendship because it means so much. And I'm not strong enough to maintain it without hurting myself. What a paradox.

Anyway, I caught up with an old friend from school last night. Well, he was kind of my first boyfriend, at a time when I didn't quite understand what the term meant :-) We didn't even hold hands !! We were discussing how easy life was back then, when love was like Kevin and Vinny in the Wonder Years. Remember your first Valentine's day, and the time you gave your first card, first time buying someone a gift, getting harried if she came your way on Rakhi, your first fight. God its like this wave of nostalgia swept over me.

To save me from this and more, I've been put on a strict regimen by well-meaning friends to help me get over my misery. This includes -

1. Getting piss drunk with a girlfriend - Great idea to start out with but I don't have much memory of the evening, and I think I may have sent an incriminating or worse, pathetic, sms/made a call
2. Getting loads of work done, and doing overtime to impress bosses - Again a swell idea coz my value at work skyrocketed, except what if they start expecting me to do it regularly? I mean eventually, I will get a life and then I will want to live it
3. Watching porn and comparing where he fell short - Worked well for a while when combined with alcohol, but then backfired completely coz I got all hot and bothered
4. Dating other men - Sure, where are they? I realized suddenly that single women weren't joking when they said all the good ones are already taken/married/gay
5. Experiment with my sexuality - Ummm...ok I would've loved to give this a try except that the very idea of doing a horizontal tango with a woman makes me want to loose dinner. I mean if I wanted boobies, I'd just look down

There were more suggestions, but I'm tying them out first. Will keep everyone posted on how those attempts are working. I have a feeling its going to be one helluva ride.

Nostalgia Interrupted

I've been out of action for quite some time haven't I? Have been squeezed at work of late. By squeeze I do not mean boss's squeeze, I mean I am being made to put in every single waking moment here. When my colleagues leave, I am here to bid farewell, and when they arrive back in the morning, I am here to welcome them. The only way they have of knowing I ever went back home is the fact that I am in different clothes every day, and am not smelling like rotted flesh.

Actually I quite like my new lifestyle. Its better than going out and being humiliated constantly. Something thats become quite a regular exercise for me.

A couple of weeks back I was paying my mobile bill, and was accompanied by the boyfriend, when I this guy walked up to me, and said those dreaded words, "*&&^*# is that you??" Before I could return a polite "hey whazzup", the guy says "What happened to your weight???"

Damn, I hate meeting old school mates.

It didn't help that the guy in question could have challenged Adnan Sami's girth in school, and was now about 500 pounds lighter. Yours truly on the other hand, resembles a Renaissance/Bottecilli painting (they liked their women well-built). In school, it was the proverbial "ek phool lots of malis" situation. Now ofcourse is a whole different story.

So anyway, here I am paying a monstrous phone bill, being recognized by a chap from school, whose opening comment is my body mass index. I would've tried to impress him by talking about my work and all, but the guy was really not someone who'd be impressed with my corporate career. Ofcourse, the fact that he's made his blistering comment infront of the boyfriend doesn't help. Now he knows I was thinner, he may expect me to be so again! Curses curses.

Anyway, so its about 11:15 in the night, a Friday night, and I am at work. How depressing is that? When I am like 80, my grandkids (if I find the time to have their parents), will want to know what I did as an adventurous young woman, and all I'll have to tell them is this Friday night late stay at office. How sad is that? A colleague and I made this startling discovery today, that the folks in most companies who get promoted, aren't the ones who stay late and get the job done. No sir, infact they are the ones who come to work late and leave early. They give the impression of being good managers (they manage to make me stay late and finish a project for which 4 other people are also responsible).

Ok I am officially depressed. I read this today to cheer myself up. You may like it too. Infact, tomorrow, I'm going to put up the female version of that exercise. Cheers people.

If Wishes Were Horses...

Its been some time since I've last posted. My only excuse is a perpetual haze I've been in since last Monday. You see we had an HR Forum at work.

I can imagine the snickers all around from the seasoned MNC workers reading this :-)

See every couple of months, HR realizes they've missed the employee touch point figure for the quarter, so they rush to secure a conference room, and then send all of us meeting requests. They choose to do this at the last possible minute, so that if we were planning on leaving office on time, we will most certainly not be able to.

This time was no different.

Among the concerns that are always raised without fail are transport (since we work in the MNC hub of Gurgaon), salaries (which are about 25% lesser than the industry average), food (which really really sucks and can have another blog dedicated to it), and finally transport (yes, it really does matter that much). If you don't believe me, check this.

I remember one such forum, where the HR rep, for one hour replied every query with a single answer, "Please mail the HR helpdesk". I don't know why he took an hour to do that. He could've just sent a bulk mailer to the team. Definitely more efficient.

This latest one had a manager conducting it. For every question, he would comment "I know. I know. I understand." He would then proceed to make a big show of writing down in his diary. I am yet to see the diary. For all I know, he was making naked doodles of his audience. Actually that probably is the most likely occurence, since he kept smiling strangely from time to time. Then again you never know, HR does breathe a different air from us lesser mortals.

I wonder if this was what their parents paid lakhs to get them into MBA schools for. Correct me if I'm wrong, but do XLRI, Tata, or IIM teach courses like Dealing with Employees 101 - The Art of the Evasive Answer, 206 - Managing Attrition - How to know when you can negotiate no more. Or is it just a separate training session that all MNCs conduct?

Speaking of attrition reminds me, how the figures have really shot up recently. Believe me, there are folks in my team, who actually want to live above the poverty line, so they get REAL jobs that PAY. And believe me - management doesn't believe that! They think people are leaving because their husbands get jobs in Khazakastan (yea, right, if you believe that you'll believe anything), or their mothers-in-law want them to attend every Lamaze class.

In fact, things got so bad, an enterprising colleague suggested that we simply put up a drop box for resignations next to the one that takes medical bills. I think its an idea that warrants action. Think of the money it would save.

I had photographs of a recent office trip developed. And there's a picture of one of the bosses checking out the message on a girl's T-shirt (wink wink, you get the picture). Think of money I could make.

I hit back work tomorrow after 3 days of shortlived bliss. I felt the need to spew all the bitterness out here, so I can go back to the rat race, with a smile on my lips, and a spring in my steps.

How many of you will do the same? Can you image the number of drones that will be droning about in Gurgaon tomorrow. It boggles the mind.

For those who may want to know. The boyfriend got back. He got me Calvin Klein Eternity (all the ladies say "awwwwwwww..."), and vowed that he missed me. Just in time too. I had finished that book I picked up at the sale and there's no saying what may have happened next.

Down with love

Now that the boyfriend is no longer in the country, my weekends are spent as a quirkyalone.

Having nothing to do today for a change (including a guy, wink wink), I decided to pursue the only other self gratification women do when all alone...don't get too excited. I'm talking about shopping.

Since I consifer myself the patron saint of shoes, I went and bought the most perfect kolahpuris. Only a woman can understand how it feels when something fits that snugly inside you...oops I mean on you...

I've been informed by a very close guy pal, that now cheating on my man doesn't count since he's across the seven seas. When I asked my pal to list these seven seas, he couldn't come up with too many names. Anyway, I'm a firm believer that distance makes the heart wander. Lets just see how long it takes mine.

I tried to seduce a guy I know and was out with for coffee, but got distracted by the Dark Temptation dessert at Barista. He probably is confused at the mixed signals now, and a little pissed as he didn't seem too keen on repeating the date.

Later I bumped into a hot dude at the book store. But just as I was about to strike steamy eye-to-eye contact, I noticed a shelf marked "50% off" on popular fiction.

I need to do something quick. Can't afford to appear too angelic or shrinking violet like when I have freedom for a couple of weeks. It would down my market value. But apparently, I'm as good at cheating as Yuvraj is at being modest.

Any pointers?

Sweet Sixteen

Its so reassuring to read posts and comments from other women who went through the same "navel reaching" phases as I did. What's embarrasing is that I'm still at navel level! Well, one works with what one has ;-)

I decided to rid the "pehla nasha" string in the post title as I was worried people may not want to read more about my personal embarassments. But now that you've clicked this link, and I've already got you in here, you may as well read what I've got!

Sweet sixteen brought the most amazing man in my life. After having been burnt with karate chopping casanovas, I decided that "good guys" were just what I needed. My latest crush was again older to me (college man...drool drool), and sang in the Church choir. So eager was I to empress him, that I joined the choir too. Now he's no longer there, but I still am :-|

He was giving engineering entrances, and since he was an engg student in 11th and 12th, and so was I (will coincidences never cease), I found plenty of opportunities to seek his inputs and advice about my subjects. Every Sunday, from the time I returned home till I dropped off to sleep, I would narrate every tiny movement he'd made, or words he'd spoken, to my poor folks. They'd pretty much given up on me. I think they were just glad I wasn't in love with some lunatic (I also thought those days that Akshay Kumar was the sexiest and best actor in the world, so I can't blame them for having their doubts about my choices).

His parents were damn fond of me, so when I asked his mom (I was older so I knew which side of my bread to butter) for his old notes, she was only too glad to give me a huge pile of everything he'd ever read in 11th and 12th. At the time I thought she did this because she saw me as a potential daghter-in-law. Now I think she just wanted to get all the moth eaten and dusty books out of her pretty and clean home.

The entire affair came to an embarrasing stop one evening when the dude had to drop me home. I had run to his car earlier in the evening, so I could grab the seat upfront next to him. I'd kept the windows rolled down so we could get the cool monsoon breeze. It was just the two of us in the car after we'd dropped the other people off. Driving on a beautiful evening for about an hour together. We talked about a lot of things..well, he talked and I just listened and laughed at all his jokes (I think I may have laughed a tad too hard at some of the poor ones).

Anyway, when we got to my place, I got out of the car, and he asked me if I could just roll up the window for the backseat as he couldn't quite reach it. He didn't want people in buses aiming puke at his back seats. Brimming with joy at his request for help, I didn't open the car door at the back, but confidently stuck my hand in through the window, reached for the handle, and started rolling up the window. He was staring at me (and I thought, now I have him!), when suddenly I realized I couldn't roll up the window anymore as my arm was stuck.

Stop laughing!! Yes, my arm was stuck folks, between the glass and the top of the window. If you don't quite understand what I'm saying, please go out to your cars and try rolling up a window from the outside of the car without the door open...

At that point, I remember thinking, if there was an earthquake right now, and the earth could crack open, and I were to fall inside that crack, I think that would be a dream come true. I also remember thinking that this gorrila I'd heard about in the US who could use sign language was probably smarter than I ever would be.

I learnt my lesson that evening. I decided I preferred men on bikes.

That was till I was at the back of one, and the biker in question tried to drive off a bit too soon after dropping me off at college. My pretty top got caught between the seat and the backrest. And tore. All the way from the waist to the arm hole. It was flapping in the air. Infront of my crowded college. I was in 1st year. That was my 2nd week.

Curtains.

Pehla Nasha...again

My series of self-humiliation did not end with the dawn of puberty. Hell, it was just the beginning.

At age 15 I fell in love with this senior at school. He was in 11th grade (and totally out of reach for a 9th grader), but the allure of the forbidden fruit was unimaginable.

He was something of a national champ in Judo (I found men who could do martial arts very sexy at one point of time). He was also the "bad boy" in school. He won all the sporting awards, studied at the last minute, was popular with the ladies, and still regularly got into trouble.

I used to spy on him with my best friend, till we realized we both had a crush on him. We fought like cats, and since I'm known to be persuasive, I managed to make her "drop" her crush on him so I could have the misery all to myself. In retrospect, it doesn't seem like such a good idea.

The happiest day of my life was when he smiled at me once in the corridors. I think my trailing him throughout the lunch period tipped him off to the fact that I may have liked him.

Anyway, after that, he gave me a fair bit of attention. I was just growing into my looks (read as didn't have to stuf socks anymore) and I think he was beginning to notice. For example, once I pretended to fall infront of the volleyball court, and he left a game mid-way, to rush to me to find out if I was ok (yea right, like I didn't see through that one); another time, he stood in the elections for Sports Captain, and when he came to our class for canvassing, I told him I wouldn't vote for him just to get his attention. He asked if he could speak with me later, and then when he did, he bought me a coke and told me how I was so popular that if I didn't vote for him my friends may not either (sure, that's what he wanted, a vote, as if I didn't know he just wanted to have a drink with me).

Life sprinkled with such incidences made it quite interesting. Till he went ahead and got himself a girlfriend!

God, I was heartboken. Suddenly I realized that maybe he really did just leave the game to see if I wasn't hurt badly, and maybe he just got me that coke to get me to vote for him (which I did, and so did all my friends) I remember sobbing into my pillow that night. Maybe this was my punishment for having kicked my 4th grade romeo in the balls...

A couple of months later, his batch passed out. I cried at the farewell where I was a volunteer. It seemed like I would never love again.

2 days later we found out that he'd gotten sloshed at the conti party, had sex with his girlfriend and dumped her! Boy, what a wakeup call!!

Never one to linger upon bad experiences, 3 days later I was in love again.

Pehla Nasha...

I was chatting with a friend today who has a younger sister in the 4th grade. That's right, 4th grade. Me thinks one evening when this girl was out on a date with her boyfriend, her parents gor bored, and then got lucky. Thereby accounting for a second child some 16 years after their first.

So anyway, she was telling me how her kid sister came home one day from school, her cherubic face totally tear-streaked. When asked as to what had happened, she whimpered that a boy in class had called her "sexy"!!

This completly hilarious incident (for us, not the little girl) got me to thinking about my many first loves, and subsequent disasters.

Incidently, I recall that my first encounter in recognizing boys as boys, was in the 4th grade myself, when a classmate had called me sexy. So great was my humiliation, that I had run to the class teacher and peeped on the poor sod. He was duly given a slap, and I had cried my eyes out. Ofcourse, I was also a popular rakhi sister at the time, so my "brothers" decided to take revenge on the footbal field with my romeo. No, no, don't get concerned. It was nothing major. They just made it a point not to choose him in either of the football teams. Reeling with rejection, when the young romeo was making his way back home, I caught up with him. Newly trained in Taekwondo, and brimming with anger at my humiliation(!!), I got the poor boy in his family jewels. Hey, don't blame me. I was young and the rules of self-defence were just getting in the way. Soon after my family moved cities, but I often wonder about that guy. Can you imagine his girlfriend's plight. He's probably scarred from ever calling her sexy!

And that's not the only life I've ever ruined. There's more. So much more. Interested?

War of Taste

I've had an extremely irritating weekend, and now a horrid blue Monday.

On Friday night, the boyfriend and I made the blunder of fighting against all odds to secure two tickets to War of the Worlds. I thought, that's it. This weekend is sooo made now. Curses curses!! Little did I know. I can imagine those of you who suffered the same cinematic horrors as me, smirking away..thinking how great it is that you weren't the only ones who got killed. Humans can be so sadistic...Well, I've decided to break away this garb of selfishness. I consider it my duty to warn you. DO NOT GO TO SEE WAR OF THE WORLDS. Not unless you enjoy seeing tripodial aliens suck blood out of humans and then squirt it in vein line format all over the earth. Then to top it all, Tom Cruise runs out picking veins of human blood which cover the entire planet apparently, looking like his last face lift didn't quite do the trick, and I swear, the man has just two emotions (confused Tom, laughing Tom). I was hoping for a nice quiet dinner after the movie. But I must tell you, that it's Tuesday early morning now, and I'm yet to eat a thing. I also have been feeling very quesy, and sick in the morning, and the very smell of food makes me want to throw up. Luckily enough, I haven't suffered my monthly horrors this month...Hmmm...I wonder if that's anything to worry about.

That was the weekend. Lets see what pissed me today - SHARING A QUALIS OFFICE CAB WITH A BUNCH OF SICK PEOPLE THAT'S WHAT!! Man, I get picked up at like 6:30 AM...which as it is, is such a god-forsaken hour. And then this shrill-voiced (kind of like nails being dragged across a blackbord) woman who smells really bad, will tell the driver, "Bhaiya FM hai kya". At 6 fucking 30 in the morning...She wants FM. And you know what plays at that hour...fucking nonsense!! Loud Govinda type numbers. Just when I think I can be tortured no longer, she asks him to raise the volume and starts singing along. At 6 fucking 30 in the morning!! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

I thought I'd end my day with some retain therapy to calm my frazzled nerves...Went to Shoppers Stop, and guess what - I didn't buy a single thing. I just didn't like anything. Some days just do not go your way.

Let's hope tomorrow is better.

Hey, I thought we'd run a contest. Let's all share about the worst Monday we've ever had. Oh c'mon. I'm sure we're all whiners here. I can't wait to read about Mondays worse than mine.

Just a debate

Thanks for the great feedback guys. I just wanted to start to a debate, or better yet, just put my thoughts out there. Was depressed coz we heard about 2 different instances of distant family friends whose teenage children killed themselves.

Sumandatta - Hey dude. Read the other blog you were mentioning. Looks like all the young women have just one thing on their mind these days... ;-) and you should circulate your CV. I'll recommend you to only to "nice, gori, homely" girls just coz of your nice compliments

snm - The marketer in me coulddn't resist asking Sidin and his fam club from checking out my blog. I see you've followed suit and advertised in my space. No probs dude. Totally worth reading your material.

Hitanshu - I was at GP Barista again this weekend. Were you?

Chirayu - Well, lets just hope our choices aren't as limited.

Silverline - Yo, another one of us. Where do you work???

Gawd, its Monday tomorrow. I'm sooo not ready to get to work...

Adios..

Suicide Note

Reasons why I should kill myself -

1. I'm fat
2. My contract with a major MNC as a consultant just expired
3. It is extremely hot and sweaty
4. My television isn't working too well, and I can't get Star World, HBO or Zee Cafe - the staples of my life
5. My relationship with my dad sucks
6. I'm short
7. My boyfriend is going to study in the US leaving me behind
8. Shekhar Suman is the highest paid TV artist, and I think he sucks
9. I may need to take medications to retain my fertility
10. I don't have answers to why humanity exists and what the purpose of life is

Reasons why I won't -

1. There's so much more of me to love. I just have to be confident about myself
2. They extended my contract the next day, and want to confirm me now. I just had to be patient
3. It's raining right now. I just need to remain optimistic
4. I read a very funny book called Skinny Dip by Carl Hiassen. Didn't miss TV. I just had to exercise my options
5. I'll make sure that when I have kids, I don't make the same mistakes. I'll make newer ones! I just had to learn the lesson
6. I can lie down and sleep comfortably in 2-seater buses, and cabs. I look cherubic and young. I just have to look at what works for me
7. He wants me to join him. I just have to make him ask me :-) and pursue what I want
8. I changed the channel when he came on. And I also started reading Strip Tease by Carl Hiassen. I just had to look for other avenues
9. I realized my body's needs early, so I may still have my 4 babies. I just need to take better care of myself
10. After a couple of Long Island Ice Teas, I can tell you why life exists on Pluto. I just need to have a sense of humor

I know. Very different from what I've been writing. But I needed to say this.

Issued in the memory of thousands of young people who kill themselves each day, without realizing what life has to offer, and what they can offer to it. There's always a choice.

The Great Indian Arranged Matrimony

Last weekend, I was seized by the desire to grab a pizza, so the boyfriend and I hit Pizza Hut on Saturday night. I was curious about the whole" Freshiza" ad campaign that Pizza Hut is running, and how apparently the dough for these pizzas is made every morning. Bad marketing idea. Coz I was very tempted to ask the host if that meant all other non-Freshizia pizzas are stale...

Anyway, at some point of time, a family came and sat next to us. One veeerrrryyyy huge Punju aunty, with her hubby. One somewhat thinner and very worried looking aunty with her hubby.

Fat Punju aunty: I really can't climb the stairs coz it hurts my back
Worried aunty: Yes, yes, (nodding and bobbing her head nervously)

Surprisingly, Fat aunty was quite agile for her girth, and managed to settle in her seat easily. Worried aunty rubbed her bum against the protuding handle of our pan more than once. That was till boyfriend got all irritated and worried about losing the last 2 slices of pizza and moved it to the other side of our table. I thought maybe they were out on a double date. But then they were joined by 2 younger men (Fat guy, Thin Guy), and a young lady (smiling shyly, playing with edge of dupatta)....

Aaaaahhhh!! that's when it dawned on us, that this outing was not a mere "hog punjtalian food" session. It was the Great Indian Arranged Matrimony at the very first stages.

The girl was smiling demurely at both men. I wasn't sure if she was supposed to do that coz it got very confusing for me. I mean, was it that she could choose, that she was keeping her options open, or was it like a buy one get one free situation.

Their weird stilted convo continued till half an hour. We got dirty looks when we laughed and held hands (aaj kal ke ashleen bacchhe). But we decided to stick on and see how it ends. By then we had figured out the players also. Worried aunty must be ladki-ki-maa...but these days, you never know.

Within half an hour, the once-demure princess was looking bored through her skull. Fat guy was trying to pick a piece of olive or tomato, or some half-masecated food item from between his teeth. And thin guy was just too busy talking about himself! What a disaster. I laughed and thanked my stars that I would never go through that. Atleast I hope I don't.

I can remember other such boy meet girl disasters. Once in my family, boy came to see girl, and instead liked her cousin. After that incident, all girl cousins (we're 12 of us) have been banned from making an appearance when one of the girls is being showcased. If the guy regrets later, its too late, and that gives his wife (the sister) emotional blackmail advantage over him for eternity.

We used to have a Bong landlord. And when a guy came to see their daughter, his parents wanted to see her feet (yes yes...i tell the truth). They also wanted to examine her calves and her hair...I dunno why, but it felt like she was a prize-winning heifer they were planning on purchasing for the mating season. Apparently this is traditional bong behaviour.

I can just see myself carrying a tray to a drawing room. I'd probably trip over my saree. If the guy's useless, I'd probably burp, and fart. And if he's hot, I'd probably, wink, and bite my lower lip enticingly. And that ladies and gentlemen should send them packing away for good!

By the way, thanks for the awesome feedback. Its not just fun and encouraging, I am also learning a lot (butch gays et al)

What Men Want

Did you go see "What Women Want" with a gaggle of friends?

I know men went because they thought the movie would finally answer the age-old question that Freud took to his death-bed.

I know there must've been women who went to see it, hoping they could figure out what they themselves wanted. Hey, don't shoot me. I come in the second category myself !!

But I realize now that I need to watch a movie called "What Men Want". Why you ask?

Well, a few weeks ago, I complimented my best guy friend from school. I called him "sweet and nice". I can already see a few men nodding their heads sadly, and tsking away at my sheer ignorance. Well, I'm sorry! How was I supposed to know the rules had changed. My friend was so offended, I almost bought him a day at the spa to make it up to him.

He said he'd rather be considered dangerous, a menace to society or wateva (but he still wants to get this manicures and facials). He thinks the whole "rebel without a pause" image is more sexy to women that the nice guy image (which according to him translates to sissy boy). He was even more upset when my Mom (and also my boyfriend) were happy to see me go away on a weekend with him, ALONE. They said he was "safe". When I told him this , he got even more upset. I asked him, "Would you prefer if they thought you would seduce me?" He puffed away in irritation, and said "You wouldn't understand"!!

Me no understand. Me get even more confused when the next day at office, I was trying to debate the virtues of hair straightening against re-bonding with some female colleagues, and my macho boss walked over. I really thought, this time we've had it. And he said, "You girls are really ignorant..." He then went onto explain the subtle differences between straightening and re-bonding and listed their pros and cons like an expert!

Talk about a role reversal. Will someone be nice (I'm sorry, dangeours) enough to explain this dichotomy to me? I promise. In return I will spread rumors that you are a rake, with a devil may care attitude. You get your manicures and pedicures, so you're hygenic, but you do them roughly, with a glint in your eye, and a raw stubble on your manly, sexy exfoliated jaw.

Sultans of Swing

I got the following feedback for my last blodg...

"Amit Pandey said...
Someting to do with evolution - testosterone mixup. But then it is better to be looked over than overlooked !!! ( Just Kiddin')Hope you aren't too uncomfortable with the stares. The best way would be to stare back...and hard. Unnerving a guy is the best bet. "

Ok Amit, you're right. Its pay back time baby. From now on, I'm going to hold conversations at office with my boss's, my boss's boss's, and my boss's boss's boss's lil monkey, junior, sultan of swing, whateva....take your pick. I'm gonna stare right there, and talk.

Like you said, its better to be looked over, than to be overlooked.

Just one problem...what if they start liking it?

Why must men always...........

I wonder why it is that whenever my boss, or my boss's boss, or my boss's boss's boss talks to me, must he talk to the girls? I mean why? I swear...I am that close (the distance between my nail edge, and a bit of finger) away from holding their chin, and bringing their face to eye level...better yet, as a colleague suggested, why not just bend lower (put your face where their eyes are), and say...."Hey dude, up here!!"

Yesterday at work, HR circulated a memo about how ladies may choose to dress at work. What I wanna know is, how will that help? It doesn't matter if I wear a suit, a business suit, or a "give Mallika Sherawat a complex" top. Those who have to stare will still stare. Bah humbug!

Anyway, for those interested, the new pics got published. I still look like a Nepalese maid. Somethings can just not be helped. Me thinks Mum had a major exchange at the hospital...

A photo shoot? Moi?

A month ago, I started writing a column in an investing magazine. They wanted to publish a picture alongside. I think I let the seduction of that hamper my negotiations for more money. Anyway, sent a pic in, which was duly published. And almost immediately, my beloved family and friends let me know I looked like a Nepalese (no offence to the country mind you) maid. Not very complimentary I must say. The poor editor there offered to send a photographer to do a better job. I didn't understand what the big deal was. Well, the photographer turned up yesterday, with an intimidating bag full of lights and jazzy equipment. I tried to be all sophisticated, but that farce didn't last long. My little barsati could hardly accommodate him.
He got the ball rolling. I don't know what I had expected (maybe a single pic against white wall), but the man turned it into a photo shoot. Replete with, "madam, hold magazine", "madam, look left...Look right....Smile..Look serious....Look at camera...Don't look at camera...." Shit, he left my knees knocking. I don't know if I want to see the pictures or not. What if I still look like a Nepali maid?