Ramblings of a Confused female caught in a web...

New Blog

2009-11-25T11:47:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I know it's not Blogger's fault, but I just couldn't continue blogging at the same place anymore...Feels like a damn different life and time, and so I thought, this calls for a new blog.

I don't know if anyone still actually comes here anymore, but if you do, here's where I'm at these days -

http://ramblingsofaconfuseddesi.blogspot.com/2009/11/first-act.html

I know the first two posts are somewhat lame, but whatever. I'm trying. Atleast I get E for effort. See you at the new digs

The Spirit is Willing But The Body is Weak...

2009-02-20T13:56:00.000-08:00

Toronto has been gray and gloomy the past few weeks. The locals call it the February blahs. Despite being the shortest month of the year, it feels loooong here, mainly because we're sick and tired of winters and want some sunshine. I like to walk and usually use my lunch hour to walk around a few city blocks, as much for the exercise as for clearing my head. But the slick and icy streets through the past 3 months had started to threaten my walk time. I started walking indoors in the mall, but the wonderful displays of chothes, shoes and handbags were starting to threaten my wallet and bank balance.

So a few weeks ago a colleague who has a membership at the local YMCA which happens to be five minutes from office, convinced me to join for a trial membership. In true Indian fasion, I kept waiting till the YMCA started a 2-week free promotional membership. Why spend money on something I may not like enough to continue?

The Y is pretty awesome. 2 pools, gigantic gym, sauna, whirlpool, steamroom, pilates room, dance halls, basketball and squash courts and even an indoor running track (!!). Ofcourse, being as comfortble as I am in my winter blubber (hey its perfectly natural insulation), I am not very interested in most of those activities. However I remember that as a child I tremendously enjoyed swimming. So I took up the free membership (hey, who wouldn't? it was free) and went today for the first day. I swam for 30 minutes, sat in the sauna for 10, and then showered and was back at work...my lunch hour well-utilized. However, it is now 4:30 pm...and my body hurts in places I did not know I had muscles in. Typing on the keyboard is somwhat hard because my arms HURT. my back is screaming at me. and my shoulders...they'll get their revenge tonight.

What was I thinking? Well, actually I was thinking it might help winters go by faster if I could just be as active now as I am in summers. But my good intentions are no salve for the pain. I long for the sunny winters in Delhi, when all I did on weekends was sit on a khaat in the sun and nap or eat dry fruits.

Tomorrow I plan to attend the Ice Fest at Bloor-Yorkville, which is sort of like the GK meets Sundarnagar of Toronto. Its expected that we'll see hundreds of ice sculptures which winter-weary locals and expats alike will swoon over. I'll try to get photos.

I'm here, I think

2009-01-14T08:02:00.000-08:00

I'm terrified of writing this post. I looked at the date of my last post. 1 year, 7 months ago. I don't know if I can write anymore. I want to, but I don't know if I can. So I'll keep this short. Just a way to get my feet, well maybe toes, wet again.

The First Kiss Tag

2007-06-08T12:57:00.002-07:00

So this one is for Lalit who tagged me a couple of weeks ago to write about my first kiss.

First kisses are so special aren't they? Mine was as perfect as first kisses go. I was at the ripe old age of 19 and my best friend P and I were both losers having never kissed in our whole lives...It didn't make life any better that P was a year and a half older than me and a guy to boot. Pressure was mounting on us both. The idea that someday our kids would ask us at what age we had our first kiss, and that we'd have to admit to the truth was humiliating! What would they think of us?

More than the anticipated reactions of our progeny it was the peer pressure that was bugging us. Things really hit home when we met up this guy we went to high school with - a complete loser - u know the type who brings lunch in a pink plastic tiffin box with a spoon even in class 12. So anyway, we met loser...lets call him G...at McDonald. After flunking class 12 physics practical exam, he had joined the Merchant Navy...While I wish I could say G had become cooler, if possible, he became even more of a loser. During bites of his Fillet of fish burger, he casually asked P and me if we'd done it yet. Being innocents, we actually asked him what he meant. He says, "You know, it. Have you fucked anyone yet?" Now...I've heard a lot of things...but this was a little too direct for P and me, not to mention crude...Being somewhat smarter than him, we knew G would never bring something like this up unless he had gone and done it first. So we asked him. And he had. Said it was on some port in Spain...He woke up one morning on shore leave and he wasn't in his bed. But with some prostitute. Again being smarter than him, P and I discredited his night of passion, by asking him details, none of which he remembered ofcourse, seeing as how he was drunk as only sailors could be. We surmised, if he didn't remember it, he didn't do it. And besides, paying to get it, doesn't count. Being ever the loser, G fell for our line of reasoning, agreeing that he was as much a virgin as us.

After we took leave however, P and I had a serious heart to heart, deciding that it was very uncool that G had actually gone and done it, and we hadn't even bloody kissed. We made a pact, that if another 2-3 months we hadn't kissed anyone else, we'd just kiss each other and get it done with. Ofcourse, neither of us mentioned that the thought of locking lips with each other made us want to gag!

6 months passed and P and I did nothing about it.

Then this other friend I had, A, lets call him, got closer to me...and we became boy friend and girl friend. One fine August day, we were at my college. It had been raining and all the trees were this amazing shade of new green. A had driven down from his college to see me and spend the day with me. We had till then, in our 2-3 month dating, only held hands. That day we walked around my college campus, getting drenched in the rain, enjoying the solitude of the area after 4 PM. We went back and sat in A's car where he had kept flowers for me. Overcome by the romance of the moment, the scent of the beautiful flowers, and ofcourse helped along by the now totally misted up car windows, I smiled and said "I love you". A leaned in and pecked my cheek. A first for me. It was sweet and fumbly. I didn't say anything. So A leaned in and kissed my cheek again. That was followed by some more kissing...the kind you read about in Mills and Boons. The ones where the heroine feels her heart beat in her head and her toes curl up. It was amazing. Perhaps the technique was new and untested. Perhaps we weren't experts at what we did. But its amazing the effect atmosphere can have on a moment such as this. When we finally stopped kissing, and looked at the watch, we realized we had been at it for about 30 minutes. Kissing and whispering sweet nothings. It was perfect. To date I remember it fondly, even after A and I parted ways a few years later...I think it was the sweetest moment we had together. I silently patted myself on my back and waited to drive home and tell P all about it.

The same night, across town, P was with a junior from his college. A gutsy little girl, she asked him to drive her out to Jumbo Point near the airport. Innocent as ever, P did just that. Unknown to him, our young Jezebel was aiming for a make out session with P, and was far more experienced. When P returned from his evening, I was sitting by the phone trying to call him. P called me first. Said he was sitting at Haldirams eating Gulab Jamuns. When I asked him why, he said, "To celebrate things that happened." I asked him what had happened and he said, "Things that happen when you're 21 happened." I curled up on my couch and told him I was eating a Cadbury Rum and Raisin big chocolate bar. P asked me why. So I told him, "To celebrate things that happened." He asked me what had happened and I said, "Things that happen when you're 19 happened."

Update

2007-05-23T12:56:00.000-07:00

I don't have anything specifically new happening these days, but I still feel like writing. So this'll be one of my rambly updates where I'll go where my mind takes me.

It was the long weekend last weekend in Canada. Monday was Victoria's Day and therefore a holiday. Did I tell you how I was hinting to my husband that we should go for our honeymoon this long weekend (since the last one was so indescribable)? Well, I had been. Infact I told him he could surprise me (All the women out there know what I am talking about when we allow a man to surprise us). Then did I tell you, that he asked me if I'd like to go to the zoo? He did. And no we ended up not going anywhere at all. Infact we were like an old couple, and stayed up late every night watching movies.

On Sunday, after Church, we came home, had chicken curry, and took a nap. I KNOW!!!! Where is the young exciting life I had thought to lead in this new free land?? Anyway, during my nap I had this dream about this dessert we had seen at this little cafe in Greektown. So when we woke up at 6 PM, thats where I demanded to be taken to. Trust me, if you'd seen this dessert, you'd know what I am talking about. Infact I took a pic just for everyone.

THIS IS BEFORE

THIS IS AFTER

TIME TAKE: 8.5 SECONDS

Its called a Tongue Depressor. Why in the world would anyone call that a depressor is beyond me. The cafe has this corny little menu, I should have snapped a pic of. This menu has names like "The Julius Ceaser", "A Bird to the Wise", "Stand by your Ham", "Fowl Play", "Yes Sir, Cheese my Baby", and my personal favourite, "Poultrygeist".

On Monday evening to celebrate the end of the holiday, I went to the park. There's one about 2 minutes from my place. Its a dog park, and me being a doggie lover, I go there to pet all the dogs. I know how that sounds. But I love them so much. Dogs are so stupid and brave and loyal and idiotic. Owners come to the park with these complicated toys, and the dogs just run around chasing squirrels and picking up dead pieces of wood to play with! Goes to show how simple is sometimes best. They have the greatest fun running around an empty fountain and jumping over the benches. The only problem is that they also love to drool, so I usually need to wash my jeans after every visit to the park. After observing the dogs and the owners, I realized their primary motivation is food. For the dogs I mean, although if you saw some of the owners, you'd think the same of them. They, the dogs, don't come to everyone in the park. Only to the people who have food. Having observed this, I now go to the park prepared. Before leaving the house, I pick up one of the muffins I've baked, and sort of rub it over my hand and palm, and then I go to the park. Poor dogs keep coming to me and licking my hand, and everyone thinks I am like the Dog Whisperer. Even my husband doesn't know about my dirty little trick. I tell him its because the dogs sense my pure aura. Ofcourse, all they smell is chocolate chips and orange muffin. One of these days, I know he'll figure it out, but till then.............

Who said you need to be completely honest in a marriage about everything? He was wrong. Infact I bet it was a he who said it, because women just know better. For example, every morning, when the alarm goes off, and my husband lovingly touches my feet with his (read: he kicks me) to go shut it off, I tell him, I already went and snoozed it 10 minutes ago and you never heard it......Its been 3 months so far, and needless to say, he's not figured it out yet. Infact thinking about this, brings me to the next interesting topic I could blog about - Lies Women Tell. I'll start my list immediately after I post this entry.

I can hear the dogs barking. So I'll be off now. Besides, I don't want muffin crumbs on the laptop.

These Are a Few of My Favourite Things

2007-04-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

Ever since I moved to Toronto, things that I took for granted in India, are what I miss the most. Oh I won't pretend I don't enjoy the unbroken high-speed Internet, un-interrupted power and water supply, and the 14 degree weather, but still, there are things about home that I will never get here. Since its raining today, and I'm feeling somewhat homesick, I thought making a list of a few of my favourite things will make me feel better.

1. Samosas - Oh c'mon, its raining! What fun is rain unless you are sitting with some garam garam chai and samosas...Wait I know...pakodas....paneer pakodas....food fit for the Gods.

2. Smell of aloo frying - You know how when you walk in Connaught Place and suddenly your senses are assailed with the incredible aromas of aloo frying in one of the little corners...and there is this crowd of people surrounding that HUGE frying pan, waiting for their aloo chaat...Oh man, I never ate it when I was in Delhi, even my stomach can't handle that food, but those awesome aromas haunt me even 12,000 miles away.

3. Neighbourhood sabzi walas - Saaaaaaabbbbbjiiiiiiiii...Man, those guys can shout. I used to feel bad in Delhi, when I'd hear them still trying to hawk their wares at 9:30 in the night, knowing that next day, they'll be up at 3 AM to go to the mandi, pushing their carts, and then push that laden cart around for the rest of the day, until night time again. But I miss those fresh veggies to the door. Who needs organic labels. Everything in India is organic!

Yes, I know it appears as though I am singularly obsessed with food ever since getting here, but you have to be out of India to know what its like...I have a lot of buddies living in London, Denmark, US etc. and here is one food description that they love to hate:

"Going to Pandara Road, ordering butter naan, tandoori chicken, dal makhani, and kadhai chicken...breaking that melt in the mouth naan...with butter dripping down it. the slightly spicy and tangy flavours of tandoori chicken bursting upon your tastebuds...till you taste the kadhai chicken that is...with chillies and chicken swimming in pyaaz and masala...then you wash it with a dip of naan in the creamy dal makhani..."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...so how many of you are ordering dhaba food tonight eh? I know I know...writing all this is a bit sadistic....but hey, I'm going through it too remember.

So what else do I miss...Aaah, street shopping! I miss Janpath, buying all that junk jewelery one could find only there...You know those long earings girls wear, with little squares designed in bronze...they are soo popular in Toronto...but when I saw them in Eaton center, they were priced at $40. In Delhi, they are available for 30 rupees! I am so tempted to get into business. Buy a suitcase full of those from Janpath, and sell them in Toronto. I'll recover the price of my ticket and more! But I guess every Sindhi bhai in Toronto worth his papad has already gone and done that. Infact they are probably the enterprising souls selling these trinkets for $40 at the mall!

I miss Eid and the sewai that came from a muslim friend's house. I missed Lohri and the bonfires and random dancing in the street in front of my house. I miss listening to Rabbi on my way to work in the morning. I miss going to Priya with my friends, and sitting at Barista playing scrabble. I miss having aloo parathas on Sunday mornings, and having that with dahi and aachar. Yes Yes, we're back to food again so its come a full circle.

Most of all, I miss having a maid, who my mom would gossip with. Now I have to vacuum the house myself with my husband for gossip company. And he knows nothing about what the Chaddas' 17 yr old chori was doing with the Sens' 19 year old son in Sector 14, Block B park like my good old maid did!!!

A Day in the Life of a Job Hunting Immigrant

2007-04-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

So you know how I said, when I come here and gripe about whatever is bothering me, I am able to see it in a lighter vein, well, I'm back for the same therapy again. Slightly cheaper than going to a shrink I think, plus there is always my fantasy about being discovered by some great publisher who wants to pay me a shit load of money for my rants.

Speaking of shit, I must, I must write about my day yesterday. It was one of those days when just as you think you can't possibly feel lower, life gives you a veritable kick in the balls.

But before I tell you about yesterday, I have to go into flashback.

Having moved to Canada a few weeks back, I enjoyed the first week being entranced by the snow. The second week was spent learning how to master things like an electric cooking range, and learning not to run and cross the road Delhi-style. The third week was spent moping and missing mommy. But through all these weeks, was the underlying restlessness that accompanies those miserable souls who've worked most of their lives. People like me who don't know what to do without work. Who will bitch and rant about office, but will miss it tremendously when not there anymore. So throughout those weeks, yours truly spent time on the Internet looking for jobs.

Realistically, I knew I was not going to be getting a job 2 hours after landing here, unless I wanted to work in airport security, and from what I saw, the Punjabi and Sikh community in Toronto has exclusive rights on that one. Chak de phatte!!

But perhaps in my state of optimism, I thought I'd land a job in about a month. This is where I was wrong. See apparently not even resumes are written here the way they are back home. So after a month of misfires, a friend's aunt who works in HR gave me a resume writing session. That's when I realized I wasn't getting a single call because no one liked my resume. Back in India, using the same resume, doing multiple save-as copies, and simple changing the position name usually did the trick.

I then re-started the entire applying process all over again. 7 weeks and over 100 applications later, I have had only 2 interview calls. The first one was crap, the second, I’m still waiting to hear about, but I am pretty hopeful. In the meantime, I am going nuts in the house. Mondays are the worst. I feel like I’ll never get a job and I have kittens just thinking that. Combine that with my new found love for cooking and baking, well-meaning friends started telling me I’m the perfect housewife. With friends like that, who needs enemies!

So yesterday, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got a copy of Employment News from a newsstand. Back home, Employment News typically has UPSC results and government openings. Here it has small time jobs and mostly call center listings. So I thought, here goes, while I search for that elusive perfect job I can blog about, I’ll go and do some itty bitty job just to get out of the house. The husband didn’t look very convinced and said, “You know that paper is a little shady”. Ofcourse noticing the light of battle in my eyes after days of seeing me look just despondent, he didn’t continue. In retrospect maybe he should have, and I should’ve listened seeing as how being born and raised here, he knows a little bit more about the country than me.

So armed with copies of my resumes, I made my way yesterday to hurriedly set-up appointments at 3 offices.

Interview 1: 9:30 AM – Yonge Street

So unlike large sprawling Gurgaon and Delhi call centers, this one was on the 6th floor of a high rise. A cramped space, I knew it was probably not the place for me, when I saw a mop and pail standing next to reception. Still I continued with the interview. When they took me to the lunch room for my initial interview (in a lunch room!). I was amazed to see that it wasn’t the 5000 sq. ft area I had gotten used to at my last place. Instead it was a small 10 by 10 room with 3 plastic chairs, 1 table, 1 sink, and 1 microwave. I was thinking if these people could see how Indian call center cafeterias are, they’ll probably all line up for immigration! So the interview went fine, and they wanted to know when I’d join. I said I’ll call you back. I still haven’t. Is it wrong of me? I kept thinking…but the minute I walked into that place, I was so depressed. It was like I had walked into one of those crowded domestic call centers that line the inner lanes of South Ex and Rajouri Garden! So obviously I’m not going back.

Interview 2: 11:30 AM – Yonge Street

When the receptionist who had taken my call told me that the office was just next to the huge MTV office with the MTV signboard, I must admit I was impressed. When I got there however, I realized that there is a big difference between the MTV office and ghetto next door. As I walked down the musky carpet towards the door of the agency, this feeling of total helplessness washed over me…It’s a friggin call center and I am supposed to be doing this for time pass!! They didn’t even take my resume, just gave me a job. Atleast in India, they interview you at a 5 star and pretend to have 5 rounds before selecting you. That’s the difference. In India, call centers are jobs college kids take to have a good time. Here they are jobs you take if you can’t get a job at the mall selling clothes. This depressed me even more, although I’m not sure if it was because I was just missing India or work.

Lunch: 12:45 PM – Eaton Center

After my morbid morning, I decided to meet the husband for lunch at Eaton Center, a mall nearby. He helped me get over my depression by clogging my arteries with KFC and fries. It worked.

I came back home, took a nap and decided to leave for my last interview of the day. It was at about 4:30 also at Yonge Street. Incase you are wondering about Yonge street, it’s the longest street in the world, and stretches from Toronto all the way to Thunder Bay…another city, and hour away by air.
So anyway, the address was 719 Yonge Street, and I kept looking for this place and I couldn’t find it. Somehow all I could see after 714 was 730. I couldn’t help notice that the area was a little dingy. With shanty shops selling “body art” and “adult videos”. And that’s when I saw 719, Yonge Street. A godawful old house converted to office. Nestled between a strip joint called Brass Rails and a store that sells “Novelty ID cards”. That’s it!!! I thought to myself, I can’t possibly go in there. Obviously they are selling something other than “a line of new products” as the ad said. Or maybe they are new products…just being used in the oldest profession in the world!

Here is what amazes me about Toronto. In Delhi, we know the areas that are bad and can actively avoid them. Here you have a business district like Bloor-Yonge, but 2 minutes from there you have business of just another variety.

So I cross the road to start my trudge back home. That’s when I saw the queerest thing ever. And I use that word as a pun. This British guy, reed thin, completely gay, and wearing the most outlandish fur coat I’ve ever laid eyes on. Infact its entirely possible it wasn’t a coat, but just a dead animal slung over his shoulder! By now I’m used to such sights in what my husband lovingly calls the “Gaybourhood”, but obviously the Britgay was also a bit high. So he’s just standing there talking to himself, when these 2 men walk past him. Both men were HUGE, rippling muscles and tattoos on their necks. Obviously not men you would like to get upset. But cocaine does strange things to people. So the Britgay starts shouting at these huge bouncers, “What are yuu laughing at aye? Is eet my coat u baboon?” Like I said, cocaine has a strange effect on people, or perhaps Britgay just fancied a spanking…so he keeps heckling the baboon, oops, I meant bouncer guy. So the big guy finally gets pissed and starts advancing towards Britgay. I think he said, “Yeah, what are you going to do about it?”. And then he started chasing Britgay and beating him!!! Britgay tries to hide behind a car, and pretty soon they are chasing each other round and round the car…It would be funny if it wasn’t scary! Before I could grab my cell, someone else called 911. Unlike Delhi, where the thullas would arrive much after everything is over and the 2 guys are having a drink together, Toronto police are a bit faster. Within 3-4 minutes, the 2 were getting handcuffed. I don’t know about the bouncer, but I think I saw the Britgay smiling.

I decided this was as big a sign as I could get, and I am definitely not returning to 719, Yonge street for an interview, atleast in this lifetime. So I continue my walk back home, when I see this “Hiring” sign outside this optician’s store. I thought to myself, well, it can’t hurt looking can it…I mean, I do still have my resume. I could just drop it off…After all, I want something to keep me out of the house. So I go in, and I see this huge store, with 12 customers, and only one little Chinese girl behind the counter. Ofcourse, everyone is waiting their turn like normal individuals yours truly included. Suddenly this shemale walks in behind me, and I didn’t see her, uuh him, ahh it…When my turn comes, this shemale pushes me aside, walks up to the counter and starts ordering around the Chinese salesgirl. The salesgirl says, “I’m sorry, but she (me) was ahead of you so I need to speak to her first”. Knowing I’m only in here to ask about a job I possibly don’t even want, I said, “Oh you can take her (shemale) first.” Sales girl says “No, you first.” Now I know that in principle the salesgirl was right, but no one could have anticipated what happened next. I said, “Oh I’m just here to check about the job sign for more information.” So this nasty shemale turns to the sales girl and announces to the whole store, “She is just here for a job. I’m here to pay you money…” then she pretends to walk out and says, “Oh go ahead, serve her first.” Not wanting to be in the middle of this, I told the Chinese girl, “Go ahead, she needs help more…” Hehehe…I don’t think either of them caught the insult. I would’ve said more, wanted to, but you know, a shemale…I mean, what can I say to make her…ummm..him…umm it…feel worse than life probably already is for her…um…him…umm it…You get the idea.

Anyway, so I left the store (obviously!) and continued my trudge back home. Met my husband mid-way, got hysterical, laughed and cried and then we walked home. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…it did.

There was this Chinese guy walking his little furry dog. I hate little dogs. I usually just want to kick them across the street. This does not hold true for puppies. I love puppies…I just hate dogs that are tiny even when fully grown. That’s just disgusting. So before I get carried away, back to the story. Chinese guy, walking his furry little dog. The little dog decides to attack me, and bares his tiny teeth at me, straining at his collar, walking on hind legs…You should’ve seen it…This is how it looked:

Well, pretty close anyway. And then, the owner says, “Don’t be stupid IfITellYaI’llHaveToKillYa”. Ok so he didn’t call the dog “IfITellYaI’llHaveToKillYa”.

But that dog and I share a name. I rest my case.

Honeymoon from Hell

2007-03-31T07:13:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone. Actually after a hiatus of well over 5 months, I wonder how many of my old readers actually bother checking back this blog. But well, if you do, thats nice! So what have I done in these past few months...lets see, I got married, went on a honeymoon, tried to pack 25 years of life in India into 3 suitcases and 1 backpack, moved countries, tried and still trying to settle into my new life in Canada (or Ceh-neh-dah as I really like to call it, with full janani accent)!

While I've been somewhat caught up, and frankly devoid of much inspiration, I thought its about time I get back into the game. As I am typing infact, I realize how much I've missed this. My alternate life. The ability to come here and spew out whatever the hell is bothering me, and in the process, finding somehow, the sense of humour in it.

For anyone who has ever been married, trust me, you know, there is a lot of humour to be found in the wedding and everything that follows. Not because its all haha-hehe, but simply because if you didn't take it in good humour, you wouldn't be able to take it at all!

So to start things off, I thought I'd share vignettes of my honeymoon with you. No you filthy bastards, it wasn't a hidden camera. It was one out in the open. The camera handywork is my husband's and mine. Yes. Yes. On our honeymoon, this is what we were doing in our hotel room. Taking photos of it. Scroll down, and you'll see why.

Ofcourse, if one is on a honeymoon in winters, one doesn't need room heaters...that seems to be the idea why this monstrosity was in our room! Look at it!! It looks like the previous occupant used the heater to keep warm by setting it on fire. That's pretty much the only way this thing could work! Not to mention the fact that its propped up on a plug. Check the front left side. See! See!!

And when we decided to risk switching on the heater shown above, we came to the switchboard. Now, who in their right minds would actually TOUCH this??

You would think this looks pretty normal right? But wait till you check the wall below caught in this shot:

It was WET. Frigging wet. I kid you not. Perhaps the reason why my new husband found me wearing 2 pairs of rubber slippers (his and mine), holding a stick, to turn the heater on every night. Not the sexiest image mind you, but I think I'll withhold comment on the merited sexiness of electrocution.

If you thought this was bad, you should've seen our bathroom. When I first entered the room, I wondered where this strange sewery smell was emanating from, till I saw the damn pot. Here it is for your viewing pleasure alone:

And doesn't that just cap it. But wait, before I sign off, and I promise this time, I'll come back more regularly, because I want to...here are two images we could see only in India (damn I miss home). The first is self-explanatory:

Glistening buttock of buffalo. A sight one can see only on the highways of north India. Don't miss the dead squashed bugs on the windshield. Isn't that awesome!! The buffalo I mean...Look at it...their butts are actually shining!!!

And finally, I spotted this in the airport at Indore and I HAD to take a photo. Observe carefully. Behind the motley crew of baniya uncles from Indore, travelling to Delhi on business, on the wall, there are some boards and some doors...the boards signify the various entry points.

Toilets - Under this is the door for toilet, or latrine, as we all like to call them. Its an unmarked door. Enter at your own risk.
Drinking water - Under this board, one can see the drinking water cooler clearly. Ofcourse the fact that its just next to the latrine, is a bit if a turn off, but still, you can see it.
Gents toilet - Under this board, you can see some sort of entry, to what - I assume its the gents toilet..oops, I mean latrine (shee...that word...doesn't it sound dirty?)
Ladies toilet - Look under this board people - its a WALL. This is what the women of India get to pee on. A wall!! I think the MP government got just a little confused when designing the lavatory area between the genders.

And THIS is exactly what happens when the state that has Khajuraho in it, bans sex education in their schools.

Diwali Joys

2006-10-21T02:28:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of things I love about Diwali:

1. I loooove the sweets. Although I love salty stuff more, Diwali time, I just love the sweets...Besides there is a valid excuse to stuff my face with motichur laddos, sandesh, gulab jamuns, ras malai...ummmmmm...And best of all, thanks to the adulteration, I end up with loosies the very next day. Pooping it all out means never putting on the extra calories. If anyone of you know better, and want to contradict me out of my beliefs, stay away!!!

2. I hate crackers and the noise they make. I made the casual remark to my fiance, a 4th generation Canadian Indian, and he was perplexed and very worried. He kept asking me how I would survive in Canada if I hated crackers. I thought lack of sleep and math exams were robbing him of his sanity, till I realized that "crackers" is what they call white people in Toronto...Well well, the things I learn thanks to Diwali.

3. I love dogs and I hate how they start crying because of the damn crackers. I want to bring them all into my house, but they poop and pee when they are scared..Damn...Who'll clean up the mess?

4. I love having the excuse to buy clothes and jewelery. I turn into a total female and love getting beautiful silks and gorgeous heavy Indian jewelery...The rest of the year, I never wear it, because I hate it so much!

5. I love watching all of Delhi crowd the markets. No matter which market you go to, its totally crowded...And Delhites are obsessed with creating bigger impressions on just about everyone. So you have people carting around HUGE giftboxes...You'd think they'd be heavy and full of stuff...Then someone gifted one to us. It looked big enough to fit a mini TV into it...When I opened it, it had a big shiny plastic box, with 6 teeny weeny compartments filled with 3-4 cashews and raisins each! Rest of the box had air. Hmmpff!!! I prefer those heavy Haldiram boxes instead. Refer to point 1 for any clarifications.

6. Diwali gives me a holiday. Except on those horrid years when it falls on a Sunday or something. I think pandits should have a secret agreeement to always declare Diwali on a Friday or a Monday. That way, I get a 3 day weekend.

7. I love Eid also as it comes just after Diwali. My office has to give a Eid holiday too, coz otherwise we accuse them of being partial to the minority religion. Thats how we got a 5 day weekend this time!! Yay!!

8. I love watching lights. I think diyas look nicer than those blinky lights. I wish everyone would go back to diyas...You know what looks wonderful? Houses decorated with diyas and mango leaves and marigolds.

9. The holiday gave me a chance to download 6 Harry Potter books. I'm reading them all on the lappie now and preteding to my mom that its office work...har har har.

10. I love my mom. She's too smart for me. She figured wizard and magic talk wasn't a part of my office work when she snuck up on the lappie and read over my shoulder. I've been drafted to clean my room, pack away extra clothes, go shopping for curtains, and visit ALL my relatives.

Oh well, I still love Diwali. Have fun you all. Be safe.

Performance Anxiety

2006-10-13T10:45:00.000-07:00

No bride-to-be worth her weight in salt, and that is a LOT of salt for this bride to be - its all the water retention you know, ok veering off topic...let me start again.

No bride-to-be worth her weight in salt, will ever confess, that secretly she doesn't want the wedding. Oh no, its not that she doesn't want the marriage, although in some cases that may be it, but its just the whole wedding hoopla.

Ever since Sooraj Barjatya inflicted that Hum Aapke Hain Kaun flick on us, he's set up umpteen Indian families for failure. Everyone expects multiple functions, a perfect family that stands in one line, dancing with an ever smiling papaji, mamaji, buaji etc. They also expect fluffy dogs that can play cricket, and sensing family tensions, can convey messages between unwilling-to-wed jeejas and saalis...The only fluffy dog in my family is psychotic and likes to bite everyone. He even pees in the house at night when everyone is asleep.

The pressure I tell you is immense.

Mr.Barjatya has made it so that all families are expected to turn in dance performances at their weddings. Somehow, the bride's younger sisters are always roped in for this task. My younger sisters have far to much self-respect to do that. And yet, societal pressure has had numerous family friend "uncles" asking them what song they are performing to. I had to hold them back when they almost named songs like "Tu Cheez..." and "Samundar mein naaha kar..." To say that would have incited a couple of heart attacks is an understatement.

I also have a set of uncles, none of whom are anything like Alok Nath, smiling beningly at one and all. No siree. Mine are more like Prem Chopra. They love their whisky and can drink an Irishman under the table. They cuss enough to put the Haryanvi guys who drive my office cabs to shame. They abuse each others mothers and sisters, even though they may be married to each others mothers and sisters. The women look fondly, and in some cases, not-so-fondly on.

I feel like I'll be walking this tightrope at the wedding with Alcohol-Hating-Seriously-Religious-Mother-In-Law at one end, and Alcohol-Loving-Ciggie-Smoking-Cussing-Uncles at the other.

Then there are my aunts. Every single one has a unique neurosis. One aunt loves looking at prospective boys for her girls, and then promptly rejecting them. She's gone through more boys for her girls than Liz Taylor has gone through face lifts. She once even rejected this great guy, who is now in and out of the Indian cricket team, and plays county cricket in London. My sister could have been giving Reed Thin Spice a run for her money. Instead she travels from Ghaziabad to Gurgaon, crossing 3 state lines twice a day. I know, marriage isn't a way out (it's usually just a way to turn yourself in). But still, where will you find the perfect man?? George Clooney is too happy with his pig you know. But what is really scary is that my aunt has now set her sights on my poor single brother-in-law. Don't even get me started on my other aunts. Thats a blog on its own.

Mr.Barjatya has also espoused the concept of the perfect bride. He obviously hasn't heard of the "Bridezilla" concept. His brides blush demurely at the first glimpse of Daddyji, Mummyji and ofcourse "Prem". Brides today are a tad different. They gripe in their blogs and bitch about relatives.

As if Sooraj Barjatya wasn't enough, we then had Laxmi Mittal, getting his daughter married at a goddamn Palace in Paris for God's sake! Then that Sahara Parivar dude took over all of Lucknow for his sons' weddings. He chartered all his guests to the venue in private jets. Last night, my uncle told me, we needn't book the Indian Railway sleeper coach for our guests, as everyone is making their own bookings. I even heaved a sigh of relief at that one! Yeah yea, so I'm cheap.

I know some of you may think that comparisons are odious. After all, I'm getting worried comparing my shing-a-ding to movie weddings and multi-millionaire baraats. But isn't this what happens to normal men and women when they start comparing themselves in bed with digitally enhanced porn stars? Maybe I should get Wiagara (Wedding + Viagara). Get it...haha...I'm funny at 11:27 in the PM.

Holy Matrimony

2006-09-25T10:32:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't written in ages.....But what was I supposed to do. My creativity is being sucked dry by my relatives who are planning my wedding.

Let me start at the very beginning. I returned back to Delhi (40 deg + humidity) in the middle of August from a wonderful vacation in Toronto (20 deg + cool winds).

Husband-to-be took me sight seeing in his city. The highlight of the tour was our visit to what is popularly known as a "Novelty" store. A store that sells candles, movies, blow-up dolls, things that look like 12 inch sausages...well, you get the picture right? No we didn't buy anything (personally, I figure people need those things after 3 years of marriage). But still, worth a good laugh...

I saw men and women walk right in and out of the store without a trace of embarasment. Some were even brown. Now how does one tell the difference between a seasoned-almost-white-brown, and a Fresh-Off-The-Boat-Brown (FOB brown)? The guys standing outside the store, peeking looks inside, and pretending they are reading the Toronto Star (held upside down) are the FOB browns. Somehow, all of us in the sub-continent, Indis, Pakis, Bangis, Lankis...all of us are collectively taught to be ashamed of our sexuality. Amazing then, that we have the fastest growing population in the world! Compare this with Europe, one of the most open societies in the world - who are paying citizens to have babies to battle declining birth rates. Lesson to the Indian goverment - Advertise Sex!

So what happened after I returned? A wedding date was decided. To anyone, who has ever fixed a wedding date without a pandit deciding an auspicious occasion (suiting the side of the family that gave a bigger dakshina), you know what I'm talking about when I say this is just the first of the battles. No date will suit everyone. You could pick any date in the calendar. Someone will always have a kid with exams, someone will complain about not getting leave that time of the year, and someone will just say no for the heck of it...After the to-be-married couple try to spend a couple of weeks doing people-pleasing, they give up. In our case, we told our families, they could pick any date they wanted...but the wedding might not be as much fun if the bride or groom or both were missing in action!

Once we had a date, we set about to the task of appeasing those who we couldn't please. I need to mention here, that for some reason, women always end up with the appeasement task. What is it about us? Is it the extra chromosome (or is that the missing one?)? But somehow, all the man has to do is turn up at the right place, at the right time. Everything else is for the woman to handle. I'm not saying this is deliberate because the man doesn't want to help. Its just the way it is. If I have a child, I'll beg him/her to elope.

Just like appeasement, everything else from venue to cake to color combinations - is all the bride's work. And God Forbid, if you think you have a choice in the matter, you've had it. You must, you must pick something every one else likes, if even you think its puke.

When I started, I had accidently believed myself to be important to the wedding, till a friend at work, also planning her wedding told me that I was the least important person in this whole thing. After all, I am just the bride! Another friend told me that weddings are a test of patience. You try to get through the months preceding that day, and the day itself, one day at a time...

So why am I so venomous about my own wedding. Well for starters, my relatives decided that this being the first wedding in the family in 15 years, it needed some added celebration...like all of them organizing it for instance. Can someone say too many cooks...?

They are all trying to do everything they couldn't do at their own weddings...and making a total mess of mine...and they FIGHT...about everything. Being in the unenviable position of needing to please everyone, you may see this bride in some "unique" attire.

You'll see me walk down the aisle wearing a saree that looks like a gown, or a gown that looks like a saree, wearing 5 veils, to please my 5 aunts. The makeup will make me look like a goth chick, or Raveena Tandon from the early 90s, considering aunty 1 leans towards baby pink based makeup for that fresh innocent virginal appeal, while aunty 2 prefers a more smoldering look ("he'll be wondering when he can be alone with you" - eeuuuu, please please don't talk to me about that ever again).

Then there is the cousin brother, who wants a bollywood bhangra DJ at the reception and also to book the best disc in town for the night. When I asked him his opinion on how this will fit within our budget, he said "No comments on that" NICE!

And how can I forget the uncle who has ordered a 5-tiered wedding cake...I'm afraid when they click photos, it'll look like my groom is holding hands with the cake, because I sure as hell wont be visible behing that monstrosity.

Then there is my dear beloved husband-to-be, who bought a wedding cake top online. Most couples choose romantic figures with the groom sweeping the bride off her feet. My man picked one that has a groom being dragged by the collar by the bride...obviously to the altar...Husband-to-be thinks its the FUNNIEST thing since Archie set up a date simultaeneously with Betty and Veronica.

And moms...yours and his. Especially yours. Seems like the emotions of the time get to them so they feel the need to pick fights with you all the time. Then when you fight back, they cry, making you want to crawl right back under that big dirty rock where you belong.

So, fellow brides-to-be, or those who may join us soon, in the near or distant future, here are some handy tips for us all -

1. Remember, YOU are not important. Everyone else is.
2. If you have a choice, keep it to yourself.
3. If you have a dream wedding, don't ever imagine you can get it for yourself...Instead hold your horses...Force you niece, nephew, child suffer ur perfect wedding instead. May the circle continue.
4. Be nice to mom. You'll regret any other way later.

Pet Cemetary

2006-07-12T08:50:00.000-07:00

Its been a long time since I've posted. Don't blame me. Ok, blame me. But also blame the corporate slave masters who've chained me to the conference room from where I'm penning this down.

I'm currently attending an extremely boring (and that is the understatement of the year) session on SAP. Infact, the session is so boring that:

1. The speaker's colleague nodded off to sleep 37 minutes after the start
2. The speaker himself headed out to get caffeine during the break because he realized he was delivering his presentation under the influence of sleep

Somebody, please drive a knife through my heart. It'll be so much kinder than having to bear this torture chamber any longer. A meal followed by a monologue by this sleep-inducing man in darkened conference room are not my idea of a fun post-lunch activities.

My brain is sluggish and I don't know what this man is saying anymore. Something about client ID, session, process and a bunch of acronyms like SD, BD, SM, PA that mean nothing to any of the attendees. Well, I've got a bunch of acronyms that do. How's MC, BC sound to you old guy?

Ok brain, 57 minutes more. I promise that if you do this for me, I'll give you your heart's desire (Ok, that sounds wrong. How can a brain have a heart's desire?). OK brain, basically you can have your fill of oxygen.

My mind wanders in a bid for survival. It latches on to the first mildly amusing thought that comes to it. And that brings me to the wildlife sanctuary of chaos that is my house these days.

A pack of street dogs constantly wander the lane outside my house. They are very loud. Always. But because I've known them since they were pups (infact I think I may even have observed their conception), I have a soft spot for them. However that does not mean that I'm ok with their excitable barks at all hours of the day and night. I know they mean well and are playing guard and all, but what are a couple of burglaries compared to uninterrupted hours of sleep or phone conversations? Atleast the burglaries give the neighbourhood a reason to get together and talk.

And then there are the monkeys. A couple of them climbed out to our balconey a few evenings ago. Now here is something we all wish to see when we return home from a stressful day at work - a bunch of monkeys in the balconey, one sitting on the rose pot scratching its buttocks. Two grooming themselves on the clothesline. And one making a meal out of my pink lacey thingies. So atleast the last one had good taste.

If you remember, there was also a cat that had taken over my house once. His progeny stalk around these days.

And NOW, we have a pet lizard. How did I end up getting one of those? Well, during the mating season, we got a baby lizard who never learnt how to climb walls like most self-respecting lizards. Yours truly being petrified of anything that crawls never quite learnt to be fond of "Lizzie", but my mother ofcourse found it "cute" (belch) to see this lizard crawling around eating up all the insects. So now Lizzie has made the foyer her permanent abode. A few evenings ago mum came to me and started telling me how Lizzie was sitting there and staring at mum. My mother sounded almost affectionate (!) and I felt as thought I'd suddenly acquired a bug for a sibling or something. I warned mum that if she continued talking to the lizard like that, the lizard's likely to get fond of her. And guess what happened? I was right. I now have a lizard who scurries away at the sound of my footsteps, but sits and just swishes her tail when mum walks near her.

The lizard has developed an identity crisis. I think she thinks she's a dog! The other day, I swear, I caught her wagging her tail at mum. So now we have this lizard that follows my mum around the house and wags her tail. In fact tonight, this rain bug came and landed near mum's foot. Lizzie jumped out from behind the couch and ate the bug up. Loyalty people. Another doggie trait.

I found a solution to my dilema though. Mum's come to fear Lizzie's devotion finally. Especially since I told her that Lizzie may start wanting to lick her now to express affection.

Peace prevails.

Hyderabadi Biryani

2006-05-31T08:47:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back during a meeting with my big boss, I told him how I wanted onsite opportunities and direct interaction with clients. See, all I wanted was a free ticket to the US to sightsee...I thought I had made myself crystal clear. Apparently not.

Last week, I was caught hold of and told I had to go onsite...to Hyderabad.

As with all MNCs I was told a day before about my trip and the remaining time was spent trying to get approvals for payments and tickets from just about everyone from the janitor to the CEO. I made the strategic error of booking Air Sahara tickets. Both times, my 2-hour flight was delayed by 3 hours. You know, I honestly think that all those rumors about Subroto Roy having HIV and dying were spead by the honcho of the airline division to deviate attention from the perpetually late flights.

Not to mention the age of the Sahara planes. The one I went in, had the following message printed infront of my seat: "Incase of submersion, use lower cushion as floatation device." What The Fuck...you mean to say that if the stupid plane were to land in deep water, I would survive by hanging on to a tatty cushion?? Well, perhaps the absorbed gases of the previous passengers (they are not to blame, the day-old food served in-flight is) will keep me afloat!

The really fun part were the 4 brats who were sitting next to me. I had tele-checked in like a seasoned traveler, and had got a window seat. The 4 brats kept whining to their mom about why "aunty" wouldn't let them sit at the window. "Aunty"?? Bloody hell. I even stuck my tongue out at them when their mom wasn't watching.

Anyway, so in Hyderabad, once I reconciled myself to the fate of a domestic "onsite" of 3 days, I figured I could still enjoy the city in the evening, visit Char Minar, have some fantastic biryani, and buy myself some pearls. But did I manage to do that? Well, lets see, between getting my laptop to work, getting cabs and commuting for 4 hours daily, ummm, no. The only biryani I got to eat was at the office cafeteria, and all of you who work in MNCs, are probably laughing out loud right now, or just shaking your heads along in pity. You see, office cafeteria food is a separate blog of despair all together.

So anyhow, I never managed to visit char Minar either. But on the way back to the airport, I begged the driver to stop at Mangatrai and I picked up 2 sets of pearls - black and white. When I reached the airport and reported at the Air Sahara counter, I got a call on my cell. Guess who? Air Sahara - informing me that my flight was delayed by 3 hours. What fucking geniuses man.

When I finally got my flight, I was relieved to note that this time around the plane had life jackets and did not expect me to float on a cushion the size of my ass.

I spent my time at the airport and in-flight with a wonderful gentleman who I recognized to be from my office. Ofcourse I had no clue who he was. It was sometime during the flight, when I was grabbing my arm rests in fear because of the turbulence (bitchy storm), that I found out that the man I had been gabbing with was the damn Asst. Vice President for Finance. Rest of the trip was spent trying to flash back to try and remember if I had said anything ungainly about my company. I realized what a futile exercise it was. Waiting at the airport, all I had done was bitch about Air Sahara and my company. I had specifically bitched about the compensation packages, and how the finances of the company were in dire straits. Way to go woman, I said to myself. Pat on the back doesn't even cover it.

In conclusion, on this business trip I did the following:

1. Scared kids on the plane
2. Got sick on the plane
3. Worked till 1 AM at the hotel, woke up at 5 AM to work more - everyday
4. Traveled for 4 hours everyday
5. Fought with transport and IT
6. Ate office food that I eat in Gurgaon anyway
7. Cooled my heels at the airport for 6 hours
8. Embarassed myself in front of the AVP Finance

When I reached back office, my AVP sauntered over to me and asked, "So, how was your vacation?"

Introducing - My Photo Blog

2006-05-21T07:44:00.000-07:00

I find myself wanting to capture silly things on the street. 4 boys riding on the scooter, celebrating India's win in some cricket match. A little girl crying with a pouty bottom lip on her way to school. Aunties haggling over veggies with a vendor. Those huge tractors from the farms with veggies stackpiled so neatly on them. Vendors selling colorful baloons to kids. A 50-year old distinguished CEO-type licking an ice cream with the same joy as his 4-year old son. A pretty flower just growing out of a cracked concrete driveway.

Therefore, introducing my photo blog - Through The Lens I See.

Interview With The Vampire

2006-05-14T09:04:00.000-07:00

The idea for this post came when Safari Al posted a comment on my last post, asking me for any pointers for job interviews. Seeing as how I'm older and wiser, I've decided to help good 'ol Safari, and any other about-to-interview kids out there. The only condition being, you have to buy me a glass of some superlative ice wine or what the heck, beer ought to do.

One of the most traumatic experiences you'll ever go through in your life is an interview.

It starts when you're a 2 year old toddler and need to get admission into a playschool. Now what is the maximum that 2 year olds can do? I mean drool and ga-ga is pretty much it right? However, to be able to check that you can drool and ga-ga in a social situation with 10 other little todds, you need to give an interview where they will check if your social conditioning is appropriate and if your psychological makeup is at par with your peer group. What the fuck? At 2, the only social conditioning I had was to make sure no one stole my chocolates out of the tiffin box. And my peer group? Heck, we all came to playshool with our names stitched onto our hankies and panties.

The playschool apparently prepares you for the next interview. The school interview. As if it wasn't enough that our parents like to treat us like monkeys infront of relatives ("Beta, uncle to namaste karke dikhao" - Child, show uncle how you do namaste")! Now the playschool will teach us how to be uniform monkeys. So you have a bunch of 3 year olds all trying to identify colors. Parents will pay teachers extra if their kids can say fuchia instead of pink and tangerine instead of orange. Ofcourse, this is a double-edged sword. My niece, the by-product of 2 doctors was a precocious, although intelligent 3 year old. When asked what her parents did for a living, intead of saying they were doctors, she told the nun that her "dad is an ortho surgeon and ma is a paeds anesthetist". She was denied admission on account that she was being "over-smart". Now tell me this - how is a 3 year old over smart??

You must be wondering where I am going with this. I mean this post was supposed to be advice on job interviews. But see, being older and wiser, I'm just setting precedent. Basically you have given interviews your whole damn life, so this one will be just the same.

Anyway, so then you give interviews after school to get into college. Everyone has heard how at Stephen's some dudes were asked, "What's the color of the wall behind you?" Most of the simple ones turned their necks to check the wall behind them. Other's confidently strutted, "Same as the color of the wall behind you Sir." No prizes for guessing who got it and who didn't. I have just one question here. In the Asian Paints advertisement on TV, for that matter Nerolac too, they show how every wall of the house has a different color. So now what do you do?? Here's my suggestion, take it for what its worth. You just say, "I'm color blind, and I hope you don't prejudice against me because of my disability." If you don't get in, just leak to the press how this famous institution does not welcome students with disability. See how fast they offer you a scholarship. Actually, even better, get an SCST certificate, and see how the doors open for you. You don't have to even study you know. And thanks to Arjun Singh and all the pro-reservation idiots, we'll have a country of inept fools, who won't know what color the wall is.

Ok, so now after college, assuming you get through your MBA interviews (since I'm not one, I cannot athoritatively write on the matter), you finally get to the Holy Grail. The job interview.

Job interviews work differently if you are a man and if you are a woman. So I think both sexes should be tackled separately.

If you are a woman -

1. Depending on where you are interviewing, dress carefully. Ask the HR the name of the person who will interview you. Google the person before hand and see if you can get some dirty goss on them. For instance, if you are being interviewed by a male, and you find his name and number at a men-wanting-sex-with-men site, then he is probably my ex-boss. If you still want the job, go with something cleavage revealing and you'll probably get the job before you open your mouth. Remember though, once you do get the job and start working for him, the only time he'll want you to open your mouth will not be to speak! So beware.

2. If you are being interviewed by a woman, make sure you dress severely and professionally. You cannot under any circumstances afford to be perceived as an attractive woman.

3. What to say - Now this is not as tough as it sounds. Pepper your sentences with words like core competencies, benchmarking, best practises, six sigma, market thrust, critical to quality, proactiveness, initiative, my dad is the director, market intelligence etc. You'll just sail through.

4. Should you get a call back, don't start talking excitely. Try and remember how you behaved in college when hot dude Rahul finally asked you out. How did you calm yourself on the phone? Do the same here.

If you are a man -

1. If you are being interviwed by a woman, make sure you are slightly flirty and complimentary. At the same time, you also need to appear like a good boy. You must walk a line as narrow as the yellow line that divides the roads in Delhi. And if you fall on either side of this yellow line, you will just end up being road kill. This takes years of practice, but don't worry. You walked the exact same line in 12th grade when your practicals invigilator was a female. And you got through that one didn't you?

2. If you are being interviewed by a man, you cannot under any circustances appear to be more confident or powerful than he. Remember he has to feel secure about his position as the king rooster (or cock, take your pick). You on the other hand are the little chick (or baby cock), no matter what you try to convince your gym buddies and girlfriends with.

3. What you must say is pretty much the same as the ladies. Use the phrases listed above frequenty and you should get by just fine.

4. Men must remember one more thing - the handshake. Remember the old saying, "Limp handshake, limp d**k." Trust me, it holds so true in the corporate world. At the same time, your handshake cannot appear stronger than the male interviewer's. And please please be careful while shaking hands with women. You have to be firm, but you cannot crush her hand and leave it imprinted with her diamond rings.

5. Finally, men, you must also remember that the Kwality Feast advertisement showing on TV these days (where the interviewer and interviewee get all hot over a cone) is purely a work of fiction.

With these tips, I welcome you to the corporate world. Its bigger, messier, and nothing like what you dreamed about (Inject evil laughter track). We'll be waiting.

The Wanderer's Tags

2006-04-29T07:51:00.000-07:00

Its been a long long time away from the blog. Life has been hectic with new and interesting things happening. But before I start on any of those, I have to execute the great Wanderer's tag that Silverine tagged me with. So here goes-

5 people who top your shit list..... and why:

1. The Games Teacher from 2nd grade at Fr. Agnel's School, Delhi - As a 2nd grader giving her final Math exam, I was a bit unclear about a question on long division since I had been out of school for a couple of months because of Measles. When I went to the Games Teacher (the invigilator) to ask for a clarification, he slapped me infront of the whole class. Now I wouldn't be dramatic enough to say he sparked a life long fear of mathematics, but I always remember the humiliation of my first and only ever slap in school.

2. The ex-boss - Some men are just born so that they can be killed again. He was one such item. The man harassed every female within a 10 km radius. Infact I believe he just had to look at a woman to harass her. He made my life living hell, constantly arranging so I had to work late, and then offering to drop me back home. The sick bastard didn't even spare the pregnant HR Head!

3. Arjun Singh - He's the asshole who started Mandal Commission and the whole reservation shit. What is the point of blocking off some 50% jobs on the basis of a piece of paper, which can pretty much be bought off the street. If he really wants to give opportunities to those he feels are lesser blessed on account of their birth (!!) as SCST, why he can't open more schools and colleges?

4. Irresponsible Parents - Especially those idiots who never make an effort to calm their little brats. Don't get me wrong...I love kids...but I don't love brats...and certainly not their parents, who insted of controlling them, smile on adoringly. What is it with that eh?? On a recent trip to Agra, one such brat happened to make my aquantaince. Now the little brat kept running up and down the AC Volvo bus, and every monument we visited, he spoilt the serenity with his constant screaming. And what did his mom and dad do? They sat and smiled proudly at their little creation. Ghhrrrr... Yours truly was visiting the Taj with her fiance (yes I got engaged!) of one day, so a little peace and quiet for a romantic moment was much desired. But did the brat allow that? Nooooo...so what did I do? Outside the main Taj monument, I caught the little brat when his mommy wasn't around, and had a little staring down competition. And I made him CRY!

5. Delhi Auto Wallahs - I know I know I've mentioned them before. But what can I do? They fit the category so well. Why do they have a meter if they refuse to ever use it. And if they ever decide to use it, the damn meter will run like its in a motor rally for meters. Often they refuse to go to a certain destination as they may have to return empty. Oh really? I didn't realize I had to pay return fare when I travel in a rickety vehicle balanced on 3 wheels. Figured that part was reserved for rickety vehicles that fly and do a landing on 6 wheels, and sometimes even 5 or 4.

Close brushes with death/danger:

1. On the way to Kodaikanal with parents, our little bus almost plunged into the ravines. They aren't kidding in the Kodaikanal sightseeing guides when they call every single point a "Suicide Point".

2. Almost got run over by a bus while crossing the street at Janpath. Why? Because I had just spotted a gorgeous pair of Kolhapuris. Thank God the bus driver spotted me.

3. On the way to a dam in UP, our Ambassador (yes, I've actually ridden in one!) got stuck on this really narrow road (if a dirt path with boulders can be called that). There were no oncoming verhicles, but somehow the driver of our Ambi thought it was a good idea to honk. So there we are, hanging off the dirt road, ready to plunge to our death, and the driver was honking like his life our ours depended on it. For a minute there, I think my family preferred the plunge than an Ambi horn, but I lived to tell the tale.

5 Preferable modes of suicide, in descending order:

I'm going to skip this one, because I have no intention of killing myself, or giving any ideas to those who may be thinking along these lines.

5 Guilty pleasures:

1. Dark Temptation at Barista - A scrumptious dessert with warm Chocolate excess cake, ice cream and whipped cream covered with chocolate sauce...Ok people, wipe off the drool.

2. Long Island Ice Tea - 2 of these babies, and I can pull a Marilyn Monroe on a piano top.

3. Big Chill Food - Penne with mozzarela, chicken, and cheese. Bolognaise with tomato sauce. Naplotanaise spagetti. Belgian chocolate shake. Squidgy dark chocolate cake. Missisipi mud pie. Need I say more?

4. Saturday sleep-ins - Getting to sleep in on Saturdays till noon. Read a little. Sleep a litle. Read a little. Sleep a little. Hmmmmmm....

5. Responding to Blog Comments at Work - I'm supposed to do it...but then rules are made to be broken right?

5 things you never want to forget:

1. My mom and my fiance - The 2 more important people in my life.

2. My first kiss - It was outside college, when it was raining and Delhi was its prettiest best. The kiss however was not! It was so awkward and funny that we both just ended up laughing afterwards :-)

3. First time I felt a baby kick - My cousin sister stayed with us during her final trimester, and at night, her baby would get all active. I felt that baby kick, and it was the most significant moment of my life. I've wanted babies ever since.

4. My engagement - He proposed in a bus. And I proposed in an auto rickshaw. How can I ever forget :-)

5. My school farewell - All my false bravado at never crying on the farewell was swept away when I made that long walk from my seat to the center of the school field during my farewell. The Principal was reading out my citation, how I had come there as a gawky 7th grader. I was surrounded by beautiful diyas. And as I walked past the teachers who had taught me all those years, who had laughed and cried with me...I couldn't help it. I blubbered like a baby.

5 things you wish to forget:

1. First slap - Read above.

2. Basic Instinct 2 - It is horrible. I can't believe the last 2 movies I've seen are Memoirs of a Geisha and Basic Instinct 2. And I saw BI (or BS, take your pick) on Easter!

3. Math exams in college - Honest, Real Analysis sucked

I can't think of anything else I'd like to forget. I figure, if I forget, how they hell will I learn from it right?

5 really exotic dishes you have tried:

I'm really not into experimenting with food. If it has more than 4 legs, you can just leave it ff my plate, thank you very much. Same goes if it doesn't have legs.

I did however go to this chocolatier at Priya, Basant Lok, which served these amazing chocolates. I had a chocolate sauce...which was AMAZING.

5 crushes/loves in your life... in chronological order

1. This guy in my office. I don't know what department he is from, or even what his name is. But he has a shaved head, and he is super hot.

2. Dude from French class. He was a German trying to earn French. I had never before been so interested in Germany before.

3. Choir boy in Church

4. Judo Champ

Strangest dream you ever had:

I have only strange dreams, so picking one out is quite a task. I used to have a best friend in school who lived in the hostel. He was this tall arab kid and we got along super well. Only problem was that he got in regular trouble with the other boys at the hostel. One night I dreamt that I walked into class, and looked to the left. Tauqir was sitting on the left most bench with a bruised left eye. I ask him in my dream how he got the bruised eye, and he says he had a fight at the hostel and got hit. About this time, my mom woke me up to go to school. Guess what happens. I reach school. I walk into class, and look to the left. Tauqir is sitting on the left most bench with a bruised left eye. I ask him how he got the bruised eye, and he says he had a fight at the hostel and got hit.

Bizzare? Hell yeah!

5 most valued personal possessions:

1. My books. My mother keeps threatening to sell them for recycling. But I've told her that if she does that, I'll leave home or something. I'm so kicked about the idea of giving these books to my future generations someday.

2. My Nokia 6600. Do I need to say more?

3. My engagement ring.

Not too many other possessions I'm nuts about.

5 favorite superheroes..... and why:

1. Superman: I think more than Superman...its Christopher Reeves I would end up admiring.

2. Spiderman: He was had such cool lines. The original one-liner guy.

3. Batman: Wham. Whack. Thud. Don't you miss that show?

4. Captain Planet: Is it strange that I found him hot? Recycle anyone?

I can't think of any other undie-over-pant heroes...so I'll sign off here.

I promise the next post will be quicker than this.

I tag Lalit, World Seller Gal, Vaibhav.

In Bed With A Tom Cat

2006-03-25T06:10:00.000-08:00

My old bones have finally recovered from my recent office trip into the mountains. My mental state however is still undergoing recovery. So I figured before I start writing about the trip, I ought to write about the weeks I endured before it.

When I was a wee bonny baby, carrying my 50 kg bag to school each day, and studying countless books for pointless exams, I used to dream of growing up one day and going to a glamorous office. I used to wonder what it would be like to wear "civil" clothes each day instead of my dull blue and grey school uniform. And how wonderful it would be to not have to attend even a single PTA meeting ever again.

Then I grew up.

My 50 kg school bag has been replaced with a 60 kg laptop bag. Honestly that's how heavy it feels. Office is hardly glamorous considering the people I meet in the cab each day, the amount of FM I have to listen to, and the kind of food I have to eat. "Civil" clothes have become a headache unto themselves...Catty women abound the office. I have on more than one occasion observed a boardroom drama come to a climax with one cat looking at another and saying, "Nice top..Sarojini??" Meow anyone? For the uninitiated, Sarojini is Delhi's export surplus market. Everyone buys it. No one admits it. And PTA meeting. Well its been replaced with the MNC torture method - quaterly evaluation. Often I feel like my functional manager is my class teacher and my manager my daddy. I have to hear what a bad girl I have been in the quarter from both of them. And then I'm sure they discuss me between the two of them also. I can just picture it...

Class Teacher: She has not been doing her homework
Daddy: Really? You know, I give her sufficient time to do it
CT: Well, I know, I see her with her friends quite often...So I'm sure she has the time...But neither flesh nor spirit seem willing
Daddy: You're right. I'll just ground her.

And that's how I find myself working late hours.

Anyway, that's not what this rant is about. In school, I used to also dream of days when March would no longer mean studying for exams. Instead I would have the time to enjoy spring with long walks under trees with leaves of different colors. I thought this year would be one such year. Alas, it was not to be.

I received a merry mail in the last week of Feb announcing that there will be exams in March in office. Essentially to test the skills for which they have hired me. A little late in the day I say, considering I've been using those skills for a year now. There were going to be three exams...One each week of March. So much for spring.

Week 1:

An exam to test my grammar. Went smoothy enough. There were just a couple of glitches when during the exam, I was more fascinated with the invigilator's gorgeous white heels. Honest...They were super sexy. I think they were Ashley. They bore a resemblance to these Jimmy Choo's I saw in this month's Elle. What? You want to know how the exam went? Errrr.....Well....The heels were amazing.

Week 2:

A written or rather typed exam to test how well I can write. I hurt my left hand's middle finger 2 days before the exam. Don't ask me how THAT finger got hurt. Believe it or not, I was just cutting my nails. The finger was filled with puss and pained like hell. I had to get a minor incision to drain it all, but I figured I better do it all after my exam. The fear that a stich may disable my left hand from typing paralyzed me.

Anyhow, I started the exam and typed away with one hand. It was smooth like a baby's bottom. The exam. Not my hand. And I was through with it well ahead of time. Infact I even managed to review my answers once before time was up. Something I absolutely never achieved throughout my education. Feeling very proud of myself, I saved and closed both the documents I was working on. I was feeling particularly happy with myself. And guess what happened. When I tried to re-open my docs, one doc went MIA. I searched high and low, through various temporary folders, I almost dismantled the hard drive...But I never found doc 2. It was something I had been working on for 3 hours! Sysadmin wasn't much help either. He shrugged his shoulders and said...I suggest you just re-create you doc.

!@&#@@#($)_@*#&$

So what did I do? Well, I stayed back...Hurting hand and all. And I re-created the damn doc and gave it in. This is why they say don't count your chickens before they cross the road.

Week 3:

Project presentation before a tough panel. I had the luck of being one of the first presenters. Keeping in line with my luck the past 2 weeks, I didn't have much hope from it. My presentation was on Monday morning. Sunday night, I was still preparing my pitch till 12 in the night. Having planned to reach office early to prepare further, I was going to leave home in the morning at about 6 AM. That gave me about 5 hours of sleep.

Like a good girl, I went to bed at 12 midnight. The nervousness kept me up till about 1. Now my bedroom is placed in a manner that there is a balcony behind it. And just behind my head is a large window. A window with a cooler but no wire mesh or glass. In summers, its quite a relief to have all the fresh air...But this one night...Perhaps it wasn't so safe. Sometime towards 3 AM I heard a thud in the balcony. Sounded like someone had landed outside. Ma and I both got up with a start (I'm afraid of sleeping alone...Don't judge me!).

Ma (in a whisper): Did you hear that? Sounds like someone jumped onto our balcony
Me (in a whisper): Yes
Ma (very very loudly): Kaun Hai??? Who is it??
Me (irritated and loudly): Ma, what the hell makes you think its an English speaking burglar. If he spoke English, he'd be in a call center wouldn't he?
Ma (defensive and weepy): I said in Hindi also!
Me (pacifying but sarcastic): If its a thief, do you honestly think he's going to answer you????

My ma, still sprightly for her age...Climbed on the bed and tried to peep through the window onto the dark balcony to see if she could spot a thief. Since she chose to stand over my hand, there was nothing I could do to help. When I finally managed to get my voice back, I squeeked, "Ma, switch on the bedroom lights..Atleast you'll be able to see outside." Relief poured through my veins as Ma got off my hand and walked over to switch on the light. As our tubelight flickered to life, both of us now peered onto our balcony. We saw nothing. Finally we decided to call it a night. Time - 3:30 AM.

Sleep took over me again, although I was still palpitating at the thought of a burglar in my balcony. Suddenly, there was a loud CRASH and something jumped at the suitcase just behind my headboard...AAAAHHHHH...There was a very loud MEOW and both Ma and I screamed in terror! A cat ladies and gentlemen. A TOM CAT. A BIG BLACK TOM CAT. I don't know who was more scared, the cat or us! The cat streaked out and ran into the other room. Ma and I completely taken aback at this surprise visitor. Time - 4 AM

Ma heard me groan. I reminded her of the ordeal I had to face in just a few hours, and how the lack of beauty sleep was just going to make me cranky. Seeing disaster about to erupt, Ma told me to lie back in bed, cover my face with the quilt and go off to sleep while she hunted out the tom cat.

So while I covered my face, Ma went and got a broom to drive out our midnight intruder. I could hear her thrashing about with the broom. At one point I heard a loud "Stupid Bitch". I couldn't help but smile under the quilt...Evil laughter more likely. As if the expletive wasn't bad enough, Ma started whispering sweet nothings to the tom cat and went "here kitty kitty kitty...Here kitty kitty kitty".

At this point I felt a lumpiness in the quilt. I thought Ma was messing with me. Besides which I wanted to breathe and laugh at the whole "kitty" bit. So I uncovered my head. THE CAT WAS SITTING ON TOP OF ME 2 INCHES AWAY FROM MY FACE.

Tom cat: HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Me: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I quickly covered my face again. Ma ran into the bedroom. The cat got scared and started running up and down my body. I was screaming under the quilt. Ma got into action mode and started trying to hit the "kitty" with the broom. The cat was fast. ma wasn't. She hit me more than the cat. I felt like I was the victim of a village exorcism ceremony. Ma with open hair and broom in hand...Hitting me...Black cat tearing up and down me.

Ma ran and opened the back door to allow the cat to escape. But our kitty wasn't the brightest spark in the woods. He tried to escape from the same window through which he had come. Unfortunately, he was a little too fat to through the sill on the way out. Garfield anyone?

My traumatic night came to an end when the cat finally escaped through the backdoor. Time - 4:45 AM

She'll be back I know. Seeking her vendetta. V for vendetta.

Wake up time - 5:30 AM
Cab pick-up time - 6:15 AM
Presentation time - 11 AM

How did the presentation go?

Well, I don't remember any shoes, and I didn't loose and documents. So that's good news I suppose. I'll find out more when I get my results in April. Maybe at another pseudo PTA meeting!

Continued...

2006-03-10T11:50:00.000-08:00

Some time back I was tagged to write a work of fiction. I duly completed the tag here. After the post, some very polite people asked me to continue the story...so I've decided to do so today...See this is what mom was talking about when she said "Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it!"

It was him. There was no mistaking it. He smiled at her then. That same aggravating grin she remembered from all those nights ago. Was it a month back, or a year? It felt just like yesterday. She hadn't been the same since then.

"So, fancy meeting you here", he said. "I wondered where you had dissapeared to. I had got your number from Deepa and called you a few times but I always got the answering machine." She was still thinking of what to say...should she tell him that everytime she came home from work and heard his voice on her machine, she either dropped the laptop bag on her foot and once even accidenlty nuked her cell phone in the microwave. Naah...that hardly gave the right picture considering what had happened.

"Well, I had been a little busy...the company needed me to set up a new office at a foreign location", she replied. "There! Ha!" she thought. "What do you think of that now eh?" Ofcourse there was no point in telling him that the foreign soil was no further than good 'ol Bangladesh. Details hardly mattered.

"So what are you doing here? I thought I recognized the hackles at the back of your neck from a distance..." he asked. "Its a river...with rapids...people usually come here for the rafting. What do you think I'm doing here? Annual reports?" she retorted.

He said "Well you never know..Anyway about the other night...I hope there are no hard feelings." "No hard feelings", she thought, "Sure, for you maybe". Instead she decided to play it cool and said, "Oh absolutely not...these things happen all the time. No big deal. I've hardly given it a thought." "Grapes?" he offered again. "I wasn't kidding about going off Vit C at night you know...Do you know what it can do to you? Atleast as a guy you should avoid it", she said. He seemed to squirm on his rock at that...and looked at the grapes contemplatively...as though wondering if the price of the grapes would be too high. She almost burst out laughing...All grapes did was make her burp a bit...but what the heck. He deserved it.

He: So are you here on an office trip or otherwise?
She: I'm here with some friends
He: Office friends?
She: Yes
He: Boyfriend?
She: None of your business!
He: Oh c'mon...Don't be shy
She: Who are you here with?
He: Oh I'm here with my team
She: Female subordinates?
He: I like to think of them as equals
She: Yea right!
He: Your rock is so much smoother than mine
She: Stay by your rock. I came here first
He: Ok ok...Man...people will think you're some kind of victorian prude
She: Prude? Prude! What the hell! What kind of a nut are you?
He: Actually, speaking of prude, I am a Jane Austen fan. What do you think of Pride and Prejudice?
She: *Asshole...I'm not spoiling my beautiful night by discussing Jane Austen with him under a moonlit sky. Besides all I know of Jane Austen is some movie with Aishwarya and a white guy dancing to some really bad songs*
He: *If she would ony loosen up...I've even pretended to like Jane Austen. What more could a woman want!!*
She: I have to go. Good night
He: Wait. Before you go. There is something I've been wanting to do all evening

Hmm...thinking of 2 possible alternatives now. Will get back to this later.

Tagged, Yet Again

2006-03-05T00:01:00.000-08:00

I have been tagged by Lalit to come up with a list of things I hate...I can't believe he would take such a risk!

But since I so admire Lalit and his perseverance, I shall do justice by his tag.

I HATE:

1. Memoirs of a Geisha - I saw it yesterday and I had this heavy cloud of gloom and anger over my head till today morning. Don't get me wrong...Its not the concept of women servicing men in this movie that bothers me...maybe the Japs do it and so its their business. Its the idea that a 30 yr old man can develop feelings for an 8 yr old girl. That he takes her under his wing and lets her grow up to be a Geisha. And despite being in love with her, he lets her virginity be auctioned...C'MON !!

2. Mamma's Boys - It seems very cute when a guy will tell you how he adores his mother. You think, well...atleast he knows how to respect women. But nothing bugs me more than a grown man who needs to seek permission from his mother for everything. Love her yes...but do you have to "love" her? Be a man and learn to make your own decisions too every once in a while.

3. People Who Are Rude to Servers and Hosts at Restaurants - This category of people truly anger me. The person serving you is just serving you...that does not make him/her your servant. A little respect won't hurt. And if you still insist on being rude...be ready to savor your dish with a seasoning of spit!

4. Bosses From Hell - When I say boss from hell, I don't mean the boss who expects you to work late or pick up their laundry. I mean the boss who will pester you for dinner and will offer to drive you home at 10 PM even though you can take company transport. I mean the boss who will pay you embarrasing compliments at important meetings, and who will mis-use a position of power and responsibility to seek special "favours". Ideal solution is to just puncture the wheels of the Lexus when he is not looking...well, either that, or post his pic and cell number at a men-seeking-men-for-sex site.

5. The New Budget - PC has really gone and done it this time. He's now taxing us every time we use a debit/credit card to pay for anything. He's also taxing us if we withdraw 10 grand or more from our ATMs. Wait a second...pretty soon we'll go back in time to the days of Sholay and we'll all have our own personal munshi ji. What the fuck man! Its my money...you are already taxing my income and every bloody thing I buy. Now you want to tax me to withdraw my own money? What am I supposed to do now? Carry 2000 bucks with me everywhere if I need to go buy groceries? Ofcourse if I get mugged and murdered for my money, I will be told I should have been more careful and was probably asking for it by carrying around so much cash. C'mon PC...I was expecting better than this regressive move.

6. The Vagaries of the Indian Justice System - Jessica Lal was murdered at a party infront of more than a 100 people. Witnesses were threatened, and today the accused have walked scot-free and one even runs a night club. Yes we are all protesting, but for how long can this mockery of the legal system continue? A medical student from MAMC was raped in broad daylight, the culprits were arrested and then released. Does any one know what happened to them? Every one knows what happened in Godhra. Yet the accused have not been brought to justice. If these lunatics want to fight wars to prove their religion is better, what better way to do it than rape and murder little girls right??

7. Delhi Auto Wallahs - These guys have their own mob scene going on. As soon as you step out of a mall, a hoard of them will descend on you like a swarm of locusts. They are better off than most of us; some even carry 2 cell phones. The cell phones are snazzier than mine. They are so choosy they will refuse to take you early morning when you are rushing to your bus stop. They will refuse to go by meter. And when you do sit in the auto, they will "adjust" the mirror so they can leer at you throughout your journey.

That's my lucky seven for the day. There is so much more to hate...but really...what is the point right?

I am tagging Safari Al, methinks, mind curry, and vaibhav.

Men...Ummmm

2006-02-27T10:24:00.000-08:00

Owing to my last post, a lot of my friends/readers thought that perhaps I was one of 'em bra-burning feminists, who hate men, and everything they stand for (or everything that stands for them). That is hardly close to the truth because I quite like men. Infact I like them better than a lot things like bird flu, rodent plague etc...

I've been challenged to write atleast 10 things I like about men (without invoking the license to dream), without drinking, and without repeating myself. Ha I say to the challenge. Here goes:

1. I truly like the way men love little boys (NO, I do not mean like MJ). I just admire how they try to teach little boys tricks like how to turn cartwheels, how to hold a cricket bat, how to deal with rejection from girls...Its actually quite endearing.

2. I admire how men will not try and analyze every action, word, and gesture to death. If a woman shrugs her shoulder when the man says "So baby waddya think of em jeans eh?" the man will think "Oh great..Woo hoo..she wants me!!" Imagine what would happen if the sexes in this situation were reversed. Since I don't want to repeat myself, you can read the results here. Bottomline, men are definitely less stressed out than women and enjoy life more than we do. Why they die more of heart disease than women is a multi-million dollar research industry. Perhaps all those years of not telling us whether the turquoise silk looks better or the mauve chiffon finally catch up with them?

3. That men make better bosses is a world famous phenomenon. Most male bosses tend to be more sympathetic and understanding. Yes, they do tend to stare at Thelma and Louise, but then its either that or the hell bitch who will not let you take the day off that time of the month. I don't like dissing women bosses coz I have had some great ones, but somehow opposite sex boss-subordinate relationships work better. Don't ask me why. That would be probably be another blog.

4. Men are adorable when they are shy and in love. Try remembering how your guy pal's kid brother behaved moonily when he had a crush on you. How about that geek in school, who looked up from his Organic Chemistry book only long enough to spot you? Sure back then you laughed, but now he is probably an IIM graduate, working some high-flying job, and loves his wife and 3 kids. Guess who is having the last laugh?

5. Men go to puddles when we cry. It doesn't matter if we are sisters, friends, "rakhi sisters", mothers, whatever. Good men cannot stand to see us cry. They tend to do irrational things to get us to stop. This includes making a fool of themselves, or going and hitting the people who made us cry in the first place. Barring all this, nothing consoles a case of the weepies better than a pair of good guy arms. No point even trying to deny this. I know I know it seems like this is ammunination I'm handing over to the male bastion, but don't worry, I still have a couple of tricks up my sleeve.

6. Men are forever confused by women and we can get away with anything. Says cramps, menstruation...and see them run for cover. But my personal favourite is how they are so sure they think of you as a "rakhi sister" till 8th grade. However as soon as 9th grade comes (for some late bloomers 10th grade), its like a little bomb goes off and they realize their feelings are anything but brotherly. This is also the stage when they will start carrying your fat books and help you out with dissections in Biology.

7. Men have the most convinient neck space. No massage chair can come even close. God was very intelligent when he made that space between their chin/jaw and shoulder just so a girl's head could fit in there. This is especially useful when you are watching the Matrix for the nth time. Also useful after that last fight you had with mom over your curfew time.

8. Men smell good. No not all. But mostly they do. That familiar fragrance of Old Spice, and even the new age Ax Effect, do strange and wonderful things to our hormones.

9. Men will never remember that 4 years ago, when his mami's cousin sister gave you a saree, you didn't appear thankful enough. The off side to this is that they will forget the anniversary when you held hands for the first time. Men have the task of remembering some 5000 dates that commemorate your relationship. They will forget 4999 of these dates, but will go all out to make it up to you. This includes wine, candle lit dinners, diamonds, and other unspeakable joys.

10. It isn't exactly heart-melting when they check out other women infront of us, but when we catch them red-handed at it and call them out, that sheepish smile makes our stern expression so tough to maintain. Once again, they will go all out to make it up to you.

11. The way men look just after they wake up is another heart-melting moment. Hair typically resembles a gollywog, and their not so sunny termperament makes them so cuddlable.

OK...I was told 10, and I came up with 11. The extra one to let everyone know just how much I don't hate men. Convinced?

The World Through Bad-Alcohol-Tinted Glasses

2006-02-21T06:25:00.000-08:00

Warning: Do not ever ever consume a cocktail called Regent Punch at Days of the Raj. You're safer drinking recycled sewer water. The result is a bad headache and this post. I wrote it, but didn't post it because I wanted to read what it would be like once I was sober...In any case, I'm posting it here without any changes because I thought it made interesting "rambling" reading, and I figured these must be things that are really bothering me.

*This post was written under the influence of some very bad alcohol. Reader discretion is advised. Any resemblance to individuals living or dead is likely to be true since drunks cannot lie. Any disputes arising from this post are to be raised in my toilet where they will be flushed down like soiled toilet paper.

1. Why does Saddam Hussain get suits stiched by some designer dude in Turkey. I mean what the fuck... you kill like a few million people and live like a king...and at the end of your life, you go around wearing designer suits and complain that you aren't being treated well in jail. If Bush could go around bombing lil kids accidently, why the hell couldn't they just shoot Saddam accidently too??

2. What is it with ex boyfriends? I mean, they talk about wanting to move on and being friends and talking about everything. But when the girl starts dating, they get all "aww....but i can't sleep...but i can't eat...waahhh.." Basically traslated that means "aww...im a whiner...im a loser...waahhh.." Am I cold hearted bitch? Hell ya!! Especially when I find out someone I trusted stabbed me in the back and had cheated on me. Dude, you deserve everything you're getting right now and are about to get!

3. Why can men and women not stand each other?? I mean, I've met so many who have the same complain. Men marry expecting their women will not change but they do. And women marry expecting that their men will change but they don't. Since this is a common saying, I know its been around since Adam, so why the hell can't men look for women expecting change, and women look for men, who they don't feel like changing?

4. Why do men always say that women think so much? Would you prefer if the world was full of blondes whose idea of thinking was just deciding whether to wear the pink thong or the green one? Actually, don't answer that...No point.

5. Why do women get so confused with what they want from a guy? We all know that the perfect guy does not exist. Yet we have laundry lists of what we want from a guy...Yes he should be loving and kind... I mean c'mon...I didn't exactly expect any female to want an alcoholic wife beating shit head! So isnt it easier to just list the qualities you can live without? And please note, I said qualities.

6. Why do men want virgins only? And this is a phenomenon that apparently exists all over the world. My girlfriends in the US keep telling me that guys there are crazy about Indian girls. They feel Indian chicks are more moral (read virgins). At the same time, all guys want one thing only...my grandmother told me so. Men want great girls who they can have sex with, without having to marry (some guys are willing and even keen to have sex even with not-so-great girls, but I won't count them in here). And men want great girls to marry as well. So if all the great girls have sex with the guys, then where are all the virgins left for marriage?? Math was never my strong suit, having scored 19/100 in class 11th, but this equation certainly boggles the mind. And why would any self-respecting female admit to being a virgin/non-virgin anyway? I mean, you're damned if you're a 24 year old virgin, but you're damned worse if you're a 24 year old non-virgin.

7. Why does my best friend, a guy, have softer, straighter hair than I do? He fucking even has longer eye lashes. Where is the justice in that?

8. When a girl I know has to register for a famous matrimonial site buckling under family pressure (and this is a phenomenon solely for girls), why is it that all the weirdos approach only her. Is it some sort of a special query run on the database? Or is it like one weird homing signal that this unnamed girl has buried under her skin?

9. When you decide that you would like to work in the international market, and figure that with your credentials, they would be happy to have you, you find out its one fucking chicken and egg story. And we all know what happens to the chickens and eggs. I mean they will give you a job if you have a work permit, but you can get a work permit only if you have a job. My condolences to Laxmi Mittal.

10. Why do most lists have 10 points...what is that all about? In my current mood, I think I will be different. 9 points is all!

Thank you blogger for spell check.

Twenty Point Someone?

2006-02-20T09:36:00.000-08:00

Hey people,

Lalit had tried to leave a post on the Comments section of my previous post! Unfortunately, Blogger wasn't too impressed and removed the comment on my behalf, but without my consent!! No problemo...

What Lalit posted sruck a cord in me. I'm sure by now it's a well travelled forward, but just incase it isn't, I'm pasting it here for everyone to read.

"Being Twenty-Something"

They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person.

One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. Send this to your twenty something friends.... maybe it will help someone feel like they aren't alone in their state of confusion.....

GOOD LUCK TO ALL OF US :)

Thanks Lalit!

Compliments of a Dangerous Mind

2006-02-05T08:06:00.000-08:00

I was sitting with a group of friends today and we discussing the kind of compliments we get from time to time. Conversation started as such, when someone dropped by and "complimented" yours truly by saying "Nice hair. It makes you look thinner."

Umm....Thanks?? I guess...

It got the rest of us talking on some of the more strange compliments we receive. And ofcourse the compliments that men bestow upon us especially when they don't know better!

My eccentric brit accented neighbour is one of those men who are scared of women, and what we may ask of him! He's a bit of an ascetic too. Often the women in my team will walk upto him and ask him to comment on their mehendi, clothes, nail paint and the lot. Not to be left behind, I went to him one morning, quite happy with myself for having used a new glittery eye shadow, and asked him what he thought of it. He carefully looked at my eyelids and then remarked, "I was wondering earlier if it was sand on your eyes."

And she huffed and she puffed and she blew away his entire stock pile of fake medical bills...

Many have heard the urban legend of the man who took a moment too long before answering his wife/girlfriend when she asked lovingly, "Darling, do these pants make me look fat?" Legend has it that all men who commit this blunder never reach heaven, or for that matter, hell. They all languish somewhere between the mortal and immortal worlds. They get no beer and no sex. Oh and no chocolates or cricket either.

Among the other strange compliments I have received, I was once told I look like Shahrukh Khan. I truly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I assure everyone that I look nothing like the Bollywood actor.

Now tell me this wonderful people - if a guy is driving a girl home, and drives at the speed of 10 miles an hour on a road that can take about 60 miles an hour - is that a compliment or an insult? And if he continues to talk to her even after reaching her house...till she reaches the door...and switces off the porch lights?

I'm it!

2006-01-27T10:25:00.000-08:00

Yes people. Its your favourite 24 year old on the prowl again..meeeeoowww...or wait...is it supposed to be gggrrrhhhhh.... well, whichever!

The Girl Who Sold the World tagged me and I'm it. My task: to create a lucid work of fiction or fact (well, knowing my love for it) of 100-200 (yea right!) words using these words: I, me, blowjob, grapes, random, power, loneliness, water, robot, and blue. They've to be used just once. Now I just need to think of creative ways to use these words ;-D Ha with "blowjob" in there I just wonder how creative I can get! So here goes...

She sat on the rock by the stream. The water was gently passing over the rocks. Smoothening them as it had been for years. The sky was mid night blue. She couldn't help feeling a wave of loneliness sweep over her. She wondered if she could ever find a mate who was as much a constant as the stream was to the rocks on its bed. Ofcourse the stream did run dry every couple of years when the rain fell short! But then, there is only so much one could hope for. That's when she noticed a dark figure walking towards her from the neighbouring camp. "Probably some random corporate romeo type", she thought. He was holding something in his hands. He came, sat next to her and offered her what was in his hands, "Grapes?" "No thanks, I don't take vitamin C after 9 PM." she answered curtly. "People these days are on the strangest diets", he started off..."Me, well, yours truly believes in having whatever is available." She couldn't even see him in the darkness, and he was already pissing her off. "Probably hoping for a good lay or a blowjob" is all she could think.

She wished to be left with her melancholic thoughts, stemming from a childhood of Barbie and Ken, and teen years of Mills and Boons. She did not respond and sat there like a robot, hoping the stanger would get the message. However he seemed almost as unperceptive as HR. Suddenly there was lighting. The sheer power of the single bolt lit the sky. Scared witless for a minute, she leaned towards the stranger, chanced a look upon his face...and froze..."Oh my God...it can't be...it's not possible!"

OK, I'm out of words...paisa hazam, kahani khatam as my grand mom would often say.

Losing It

2006-01-22T08:13:00.000-08:00

Its happened. I was afraid about it from the very beginning. I had heard it was painful. I was worried what scars it may leave behind after it was all over. I had been told it got better over time.

But I must say...it was't as bad as I thought it would be. I was so scared and I realized that feeling scared may stop me from enjoying it. So I let go of my inhibitions. Stopped worrying about everything. I relaxed myself...and believe me...while there was a bit of pain initially... once I got into the groove, it was mostly pleasure.

No I didn't get a tattoo (isn't that what you were wondering *fluttering eylashes*). It was my birthday. 24th to be exact. And guess what. It was a lot of fun. No. My bones haven't suddenly crumbled. I don't have wrinkles. No grey hair. As a wise friend at work was trying to tell me, I suddenly realize, I'm in the prime of my youth, I earn well (if HR reads this, I earn pittance!!), I work well, I'm single, attractive, reasonably funny, and I can be with any one I want.

Thanks P and D for the great fun last night. You're good friends.

And to everyone who has read this blog over the past half a year, posted comments, mailed me, and generally made my day, you're all fantastic people and wonderful writers.

Happy Birthday To Me.

Friday the 13th

2006-01-13T09:21:00.000-08:00

When I titled this post, I was not thinking of the strange, somewhat scary connotations associated with the date thanks to Jason and gang. The title actually had no point.

Now that we've moved beyond that, let me share with you the highlights of my week.

Monday:

Ran from home to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. Sat with a new hot guy. Witnessed two accidents on the way to Gurgaon. Started talking with hot guy about the rise in accidents during winters (its amazing how something as morbid as accidents can help you strike a conversation with someone!). In the evening, ran from office to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. Sat by myself. Noticed new guy sitting at the back. Smiled politely. New guy came to my seat, asked if someone was sittng with me, and then sat with me. Discussed state of Delhi, favorite hangouts, professional aspirations. Yours truly was quite happy at having her faith re-affirmed in the possibility of divine intervention and availability of hot eligible young men in the capital. Nearly missed getting off at the right bus stop for home.

Tuesday:

Ran from home to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. New guy was sitting by himself. When guy ahead of me tried to sit next to new guy, new guy told him seat was saved. Then smiled at me, said had saved seat for yours truly. Hallelujah!! For once was not tempted to sleep on the way to office and catch an extra hour of shut eye. In the evening, ran from office to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. Sat by myself. Noticed new guy sitting at the back. Smiled politely. New guy came to my seat, asked if someone was sittng with me, and then sat with me. Dejavu anyone? Discussed new guy's work with ye corporate Gods. Hmm...strange. New guy seems so enthusiastic. Not what I'd expect from someone who has been a slave as long as I think he's been one. Still shared an amazing conversation. Discovered common love of cars (SUVs in particular) and bikes. We even watch the same TV shows!! New dangly earrings fell in bus. Gawd knows how. New guy helped me search them all over bus. People stared, but did he stop? Nay siree. Nearly missed getting off at the right bus stop for home again. Found the earring stuck somewhere in my sweater. Found new guy. Found lost earrings. This is definitely my week !

Wednesday:

Whole day spent in training. Did not see new guy morning or evening. What else can I say?

Thursday:

Ran from home to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. New guy was sitting by himself. Smiled and said, I've saved a seat for you. Whew !! I suddenly realized I knew nothing of what new guy did professionally. So I asked. Was expecting a response like - manager, asst manager, CA, well, something like that. New guy told me this was his first job. He passed out of college last year. WAT THE FUK !! I passed out like 3 years ago... So that would make me...OHMIGOD....OLDER THAN HIM !! Pardon me if that took the wind out of my sails. In the evening, ran from office to bus stop. Nearly missed office bus. Sat by myself. New guy came to my seat, asked if someone was sittng with me, and then sat with me. Started asking my advice about the company, MBA options - OH GOD...he thinks of me as his MENTOR!! arrrggghhh. Deep breaths...deep breaths...counted to 10, then counted to 20. Meanwhile new guy was telling me about some club a buddy of his has opened in Delhi. Said he could tell me about some live rock performances over the weekend...you know, by calling on the mobile nmber he doesn't yet have. Yours truly smiled sadly...Let new guy know that 24th bday is just around the corner. Another week to be exact. Figured he'll realize I'm a hag and leave me alone. New guy just smiles and wants to know my birthday plans. Whoa! Missed getting off at correct bus stop for home. C'mon, can you blame me??

Friday:

Ran from home to bus stop. Missed office bus. Got a second office bus. Had to stand for half and hour. Slept for another half and hour when a seat finally became available. Reached office refreshed. Entered work bay. New guy strolls over to say hi. Wait a minute...I didn't tell him where I sit. Talks about the band performance. Takes my number to inform me about it over the weekend. When he leaves, I dance over to eccentric brit neighbour and tell him how I enjoy the sheer innocence and exuberance of younger guys. How sweet they are. And how new hot guy is totally innocent and harmless (well, I thought he was!). Eccentric brit (also wily old man) points out how my "innocent" young friend had managed to get a mobile number and permission to call on the weekend. I am amazed at the smoothness of it all. I feel old and dumb. Speak to work girlfriend later. She tells me I should feel flattered and happy. After all, I am now the old wine. Old wine at 24. Sigh. I tell her, old wine is ok. What if I'm rancid wine! She bursts out laughing. So do I. Suddenly we realize this would be a great line in the blog and I quickly write it down lest I forget it due to my advancing years. Yes, I know. I need to get a life. In the evening, ran from office to bus stop. Couldn't find office bus. New guy calls me and says bus is about to leave, and he is holding it up for me. I run to bus. Sit with new guy and try very hard not to let him see how out of breath I am. I remember the bus stop this time. I guess the facination is over.

Saturday:

Sleep. Get hair cut. Shop. Have girlie night out. At night mum tells me she went to buy Harpic. The shopkeeper showed her 4 bottles and said it now comes in 4 "flavours"! Get a giggle attack.

Sunday:

Write about my week. Start giggling again. Cannot stop. Hope I don't miss the bus tomorrow morning :-D

Will you marry me?

2005-12-11T04:18:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-01T09:30:00.000-08:00

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...

2005-11-05T05:05:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-30T10:38:00.000-08:00

(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 ...

2005-10-20T10:43:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-17T10:52:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-13T12:05:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-09-30T11:49:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-10T05:45:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-08-15T09:29:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-30T12:16:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-22T12:44:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-07-15T10:50:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-03T10:38:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-01T11:25:00.000-07:00

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

2005-06-19T08:54:00.000-07:00

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

2005-06-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

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

2005-06-03T22:31:00.000-07:00

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...........

2005-05-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

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?

2005-04-23T00:17:00.000-07:00

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?