Vid's Corner

Reena and Yatharth

2011-12-14T22:40:00.002+05:30

Hi Reena and Yatharth,

How are you guys doing? Sorry, I haven't called upon for a fairly long time. In fact, I read a comment an anonymous reader left long long ago on my blog today which reminded me of you both. The comment said, I should write your story and not leave it at the empty pram... I really wonder where we left each other... that story which had begun in the Alps in the winter of 2007... ahem... should I dig you back...

are you worth it Reena? I hate the name... it is too simple... Look at Yatharth.. it might be a mouthful but it has weight! Why do I hate the simplicity....is it because it makes it so accessible...so easy for anyone to have a name... anyone could be Reena...but not everyone could be Yatharth... and well you guys marry each other... bravo... good combi i should say....

Hmm... whats your background story like Reena...and Yatharth... Yatharth could hardly ever have a pet name...or perhaps he did...what would I call you ... Yath?? :)

I am a jobless dreamer... who's even stopped dreaming.... but I still remind myself of the novel I will write... let me simplify my target.... collection of short stories ....that sounds better.

One will be on Annie... John Denver's Annie as entropicbeauty (another blogger) commented on one of my posts... (which too I happened to read tonight)... I wonder why I have more anonymous comments than known ones...when I write for a very select audience... who reads vid really? You, do? let me know... will boost my writerly ego :)

Chalo... I will have to go back and read my own posts on Reena and Yath to go back to writing about them next.... I must finally become wiser and learn to drive well... (dad's sold the 4842 though!)

chal Yath.... will see you again... and I really am liking your short name... Yath...

Yeah!

Down the memory lane

2011-12-09T23:17:00.001+05:30

How soon things become memory... I wonder if this night will also come back to me as a memory one day. With Zubin Mehta in the background, my little one asleep and my thoughts reaching out to those days spent in Kathmandu during my post graduation... That was essentially the time when I began to grow up :) I loved my college KUSOM ( Kathmandu University School of Management). It was a lot better than the Engineering school I went to :) ...In many terms... like say we had seasoned professors here versus newbie teaching assistants in Engineering school, we had a campus that was walkable versus huge (but very beautiful) campus in Dhulikhel... and of course I made some real great chums at KUSOM... and yes dad had given me his car too!

I remember taking a car trip to Godavari... a very unplanned trip... I dont remember why we took that trip at all... I think we were going back home after a class got cancelled or something. And I was driving... Annie must have said something like... Vid..Godavari joom! And zoom... i turned the car around (a u turn) and we went... Yes, it seems a very far away place now... i dont know if i will ever climb a hill (did that qualify as a hill at Godavari)...and lying down on the grass after the hike... looking at the sky...and wondering about the future perhaps...and now those memories come back as past...

I am no longer the same ME...no one is...we keep growing ...we keep evolving... But I still am ME. just a newer verison with better apps :) ... No more about tequila shots but someone who can enjoy her horlicks and even green tea... anyways i never got high on tequilas :)

Thamel...comes to me as an evening song... I remember the walk we took... Annie, Shalin and me... strange..I remember it. I remember so many restaurants... I remember Java... i had forgotton it almost.. have to dig memories... .. coffee... shish :) the hero of my talks... and how much i was in love with this dude..and Magic Beans...the cafe we thought we'd open some day... I love the cafes I went to in Europe... I remember a cafe in Paris... its right there on the street... and we sat there... Linus and I...enjoying the nip in the air... watching people go by... me watching him sip his drink... so much in love with Paris and so much in love with Linus.... an evening in Paris... see from Thamel I have reached Paris... :P

Thamel is a lot about shopping silver artifacts.. wonder if Annie still wears those jewellery she was so fond of... Annie also seems to be faraway... Its not sad anymore, you know the fact that i realize we WERE friends... and that we arent anymore... its probably because we all get on with life... probably i will think of u annie when M grows up and asks me about my friends... :) shopping together...looking for BLUE colored clothes...and guess what I hate blue now :P i think it doesnt go with my personality...

i would like to visit thamel again.. I have each time I come to Kathmandu... Its a great great place... The lit up gullis... walking in a wintry evening... hands in yr pockets... and that sandwich eatery that sold beer for girls .... with very less alcohol LOL.... what was it called...we said it was a marketing mistake...beer with less alchohol... did that product survive...? it would be such a shame to drink something less than a beer in those bottle...that was perhaps the arguments we came up with... better have a soft drink than have a poser drink :)... we were all marketers... looking out for customer satisfaction, branding...

It was good... it was lovely.... I wish life is like one of those gullis in Thamel...romantic... mysterious...and so tempting ...

the Past that won't go Past

2011-11-07T14:42:00.001+05:30

It has come back
and it clogs my mind
it haunts my soul...
and HE tells me, let go!

I have shut my eyes
I thought that would help me erase
But it stays put, waiting for me to open my eyes
and HE tells me, let go!

I forget...
It is nice this ways..
I forget moments
I forget the Past...
but I haven't been able to let go

When I remember it again
It comes back like an eager child
Climbs and clings
and refuses to go...

I try to pretend
It never happened
I never was there
I was born today, I baby myself...

I know I have stopped turning to HIM
but HE gently reminds he is there to take care
If I can't let go today, I will be able to tomorrow...
And I fall asleep...

No comments!

2011-11-07T00:13:00.000+05:30

well... sometimes we got to deal with what we've got!

Like...

* The space bar being pulled out by your little one and you fix it and deal with a hard to press space bar:P

* Friends like Annie who never call..

* Friends like Sri who never call either

* Knots

* No comments on your posts..

* No Great Ideas to write a post..

* No friends for a coffee gup!

* Wet pants of your baby...

* Going to a party the same evening when he's left , sigh*

* extended family.... my MIL says one thing on extended family...one son and as many daughters is a boon than vice versa...even in a SONcentric society that we still live in..

and some poetry..

Midnight and you..

it was by and by that the night grew
it was by and by that love grew
it was by and by

Now that i know that i am in love
Now that i feel you when you take me in your arms
I wonder which story did you come from
one of those that i wrote in pensiveness

Why did i not know you
why did i have to seek you
but i did and we met
and jab we met...
by and by it happened

by and by the night grew
by and by our love grew
by and by i was yours
by and by we were us

Good night Sweetheart...

Ask!

2011-11-01T23:01:00.000+05:30

Am teaching my little one to ask!

Ask for water when you want
Ask for food when you are hungry
Ask for lullaby when you are sleepy

She asks...

Now for my readers..

Ask for the kind of writer up or a write up at all you want to read :)
Ask=comment

Moment

2011-10-05T21:43:00.001+05:30

When I smile at you,
I want you to smile back.

Am I am asking for too much, love.

When I look into your eyes
I want you to look into mine

Like you do.

But when I fall in love
What do I want?

Not you. Not really.
I want one moment,

when you will know in your heart... that you love me too!

2011-10-01T13:06:00.000+05:30

Smileys...

A Rain dance in the shower...

He is coming tomorrow..

And ... the poem on tea pot :)

Not the one where I forget sugar

But the one with a handle and a spout...

Motherhood :) and nursery rhymes

Reminiscing adolescence...

Maturity comes with maternity :))

Like wine...the older the better..

Feminine yet haughty

Sombre yet naughty

Moods :)) nah.... Muses :))

You get me...

You can't

You said..you don't know me :)

Lost Keys

2011-09-03T01:19:00.001+05:30

I lose my keys so often. Or rather the keys misplace themselves. Well there are four keys bunched together so that I can find them all together. But the fact is, I never find them when I want to. Whats the use of the keys if I find them when I do not want them and do not find them when I want them. I wonder where my keys hide when I go looking hard for them. So often I have marked a place for them to be put. And these naughty keys they run away the moment I turn my back on them. This leaves me aghast, as I pull all my drawers, comb through each items and sigh! But I manage to find them at last. Sometimes, they have managed to hide in the Bathroom. Cheekily perched on the hook where I hang my clothes. Sometimes, they are snoring quietly in the same drawer I have had checked thrice only to be found on the fourth attempt.

Linus has also had to pitch in at times for the key hunt. This is the only couple game where he can do wonderfully well. He always manages to find them for me. Well, almost always. He finds my spects for me, when they follow the keys and lose themselves midway. And how on earth am I supposed to look for my spects without them sitting on my nose. And when Linus is not with me, as is the case now... I quietly pop in my pair of contact lenses. This makes me think, could I own contact keys. I do not know what they are like, but some day someone could invent them. :)

Well, often I have thought if keys were like cell phones. Then you could call your number and it would ring and you could run across and find them. You got it right, I lose my mobile too. But mobiles are smart guys, they find me... They ring out and clammer for attention.

Okay, I dont have good rapport with my keys, or my spects (which I urgently need to replace with a new pair) and well my cell phone (which happens to be a newbie :) ) but well I keep looking after them...err.. looking for them.

Sigh**

Wish I could go hide myself and then see how my bunch of keys would fare looking for me.

Helter and skelter,
cling cling
where is vid
that's the thing

you go right
left I will go
but we are a bunch
together we have to stay so

cling clang
go find her
ask her mobile
did u see vid, sir??

....

(PS: this is the state of mind post the Looking Glass ... lovely book )

aajaaa

2011-08-11T23:21:00.002+05:30

She is getting bigger and bigger every single day... It is such a lovely transition from being a baby to toddling her way on shaky legs...

Last night she threw her arms out and said aajaa... I fell in love with her... Oh ..this is love! being a parent is so so so fulfilling, so enriching..

(it is also tiring and maddening at times.. (read many a times ;) )

love u baby...

mum

Sweet Love

2011-08-08T00:23:00.002+05:30

The most precious moment of my life...

Pari is almost about to sleep. I am lying beside her. She opens her eyes, I pretend to sleep. She throws her arms around me, nestles near my bosom and falls asleep.

Thank you my child for loving me. For making me feel so so so special.

Love you darling,

Mommy

Vacant chair

2011-07-16T00:09:00.003+05:30

Years ago I wrote a story about vacant chair... It was about a sleeping babe, a vacant chair and a waiting lover...

Today there is a vacant chair in my room. My babe is asleep just as I had written in my story... There is Pari sleeping... Ditto.

And in my story my beloved was away... And well he is..

My story looks so real today... I wish I knew Linus then... I wish I loved him then... I wish I met him earlier... I wish ...

Zindagi...

2011-06-18T00:42:00.003+05:30

Kitni badal jaati hai zindagi..

kal wakta kuch aur tha...aaj kuch aur hain.

Kal koi aur hee shayad thee main, aaj koi aur hoon

Tabhi kal kuch aur khayal thein...aaj kuch aur hain..

Kal tum na thein.... aaj tum ho... tumhare bina yeh raat tanha tanha hain..

Kal tak hum shayar na thein...

Par kal raha kahan hai....yaadein dhoomil ho jaati hai

Kuch kisse agar tum suna bhi do, toh lagega woh main nahi koi aur hee thee..

Shayad... esiliye aaj fir khood ko dhoondne lagi hoon...

Honeymoon again

2011-05-24T22:44:00.002+05:30

Want a honeymoon again,
Want to lose myself in the gurgling ocean
Want to tickle myself with your thoughts
Want to see you in my dreams
Want to wrap you in invisible hugs
Want to get mushy
Want to hold hands and feel shy
Want to run away and get married...

Will you, darling?

(sorry for this late night public discourse.... Love ya Linus)

No mails...

2011-05-19T15:55:00.003+05:30

Long long time ago, there was a mailbox that received interesting mails. Long mail, short mail but mails nonetheless. The owner of the mailbox would come shake the box and check its content every now and then. Once she had sent a mail, she would eagerly await its reply . Shuffling the box again and again (read refreshing her browser ;) ) she would wish the reply to finally arrive.

There were times when she would have to wait for a week or so before a quirky mail came. Most of the times, it would lift her spirits. It was fun. To write and to receive. She always loved this kind of communication. When she was in school, she made a few pen pals. One of her pen friend mentioned CDs in a letter, our dear writer was clueless as to what a capital C and a capital D together meant. Ah..the electronic age was yet to tap on the doors of the lovely valley. Till then it was lovey dovey valentine messages and poems that friends queued up to be written on their behalves. All the messages began with a To, you and ended with from me. This was an excellent form of anonymity. And our dear writer wondered if a career in Archies or Hallmark was in offing :P

Hand written letters gave way to emails. Her fingers were dexterous and not at all blind. They keyed (no more penning) expressive notes and clicked on the SEND button. A far away friend would log in and read these notes. Probably smile at her innocence and archive the mail for later reading and answering.

"My mailbox is experiencing a drought... I know why...because I send no mails anymore... " The writer had sighed recently. "I wish I had a mail", was her parting shot, before we both moved away to pick our coffee mugs and log into our respective FBs.

More on FB laterz...

May be you might like to send a mail to someone you haven't for a long time... For the surprise factor... May be I will send a few tonight!

Man, am I not happy!

2011-04-17T22:36:00.002+05:30

Wow... I never knew comments would make my day. Probably it is the only kick to the writers or rather blog- writers (i like it better than blogger!!). How much we thrive on it.... this thing called feedback!

I read few posts that I had put up ages again. 2007, 2008 ... and comments on those articles that appeared much later...so much later that I had stopped visiting my own blog. You know when I make a post, I come back again and again hoping there is a comment. That somebody passed by, read, and smiled. That somebody thought ... wow, this was nice. I know I can write. I can. Oh, yes I can. But it helps when you read! :)

I want to be a writer. I perhaps forgot this. Now I know it again. Vid is born to write. There has to be a very readable piece. What will it be? Collection of short stories? Probably. I don't think I can yet write a novel! What will I write about? I tend to rely on my own experiences. Once a guy I knew had said- vid have a great life...something that could be made into a movie... ! Well, I could write a book!!!

So, how would it begin. Childhood memories... the school I went to ... the shabby toilets in the school... eeeks... My wish to change my school. Get into a better, respectable school.

Well... that sounds boring... where do we get from schooling... College! No college romance, dude!!

I could rather write about people... interesting people that I have met. Some at the airport, some on trains..some in family. People that I fell in love with , teachers that I looked upon , friends that were never friends, friends who became family, and family that never was a family.

Should I write about how I have come to love Linus. How it started and how it turned out to be. Oh, well no mush! :P

I could may be write about a girl who loved comments. Who loved to receive answers or rather long answers to her letters and subsequently emails.

I love it that M loves books. Its like I am this little baby and I have these wonderful books and the wonderful story teller. My story teller was my sister. She had wonderful stories for me. I wish I can give M a great story time. Stories for kids? Another JK Rowling in making!!!

Happy Commenting!

Finding my feet

2011-03-29T20:35:00.002+05:30

It takes a while, but bit by bit we will find our feet!

Wow! Looks like Vid's first quote! Bravo...

M is learning to put one foot ahead and bring on the other one next. I am wondering what should I write today. We are both trying to find our feet. I have an email from a company that wants to sample my writing. 3 latest pieces, they are asking for. Since, I am not really keen on passing on my work that is more than 5 years old, I thought why not begin to write. And I have a blog. And I have few readers. And a follower: Susant ;). And annoy_nemous Annie :P (caught u, dint I).

Well well well... if I write a book... and I intend to... I will thank dad for dreaming it up for me... I am his JK Rowling, I will also thank Annie for being so interested in pushing me to write whenever she finds time to connect with me and of course LinuS for being who he is and letting me be who I am. It is an altogether different thing that I have changed quite a bit. Do people change really? I think I have matured in such a lovely manner- Mum of M, cooking albeit sometimes for LinuS and being content (huh?). This is going to be tested when I am with my siblings... Will we still fight? What do you think? :D

In some way I have made my life a doll's house. Doll's House is an intriguing play that I read few years ago. But it remains with me in bits and pieces. A woman has so many roles to play. Being married is one big transition from being yourself to being ? what? I don't know. But I think after sometime one finds her feet again. I know I like dolling myself up if that is what you will call it. But now I am quite sure of my choices... Psst... I still do not know how to put on a make up! :D

Hmm... we went for a morning walk today. I like being with LinuS. It was nice when he held my hand while crossing the road on the way to the park. Well, you are definitely no more in that heart fluttering phase but the touch brings on a big smile and a glow.

So, do not expect love stories. I know Milan and Annie will not stop thanking God for this :P. And no more past reminisces either of a romantic girl falling in love and getting over. But well can you really write without a love element, Vid?

(Post Script: LinuS pointed out that I have been mentioning him as S... I am your LinuS, he reminded cheekily. And I promptly made the changes... hence the capital S in LinuS. But I like this better now... !)

Momoir- Mother's Memoir

2011-03-23T21:35:00.002+05:30

Rhymes and tickles, frolic and fun

I am a little tea pot

Short and stout

Here's my handle and here's my spout

When the water's boiling

Hear me Shout

Pick me up and pour me out

Isn't it lovely. I never thought I would look out for nursery rhymes, memorize them and then sing them over and over again. S admits I know far more rhymes than him. Well, I haven't heard him graduate beyond Twinkle Twinkle. M loves to hear Old Mc Donald, Twinkle Twinkle (and she will open up her palm and close it again to make the gesture of a twinkling star) and Baa baa black sheep. She has recently taken to Hindi rhymes too. We got a DVD of hindi rhymes so that her grandma could sing to her as well. Hmm, the whole house is now singing: Aaloo kachaloo bete kaha gaye the...baingan kee tokri mei so rahe the..!

I sometimes wonder if I am talking enough to her, am I reading enough to her. I worry in the back of my mind that we have not yet started story telling. All this is thanks to the parenting sites that I go through! Well, I realize we have given listening to flute a break. Hearing Hari Prasad Chourasia had become a regimen when M was colicy. Now, I think we have wider options to explore.

There is so much on my mind. From weaning to writing to giving her the mug to drink and making that album for her first birthday to buying new toys. I wish there were quite few new mums that I knew. So that we would have a Momz Gang. It's strange but it's true- when I called up S's cousin today, she told her hubby that M's mom is calling. From Vid to M's mom!

I signed up on twitter too today. Well, I did not get the user id i wanted...vidwata..neither did i get vid... I thought of alternatives. Sample this WithWater...and guess what already taken... The next on my mind was withWereWhat...and there I am ... Still trying to figure out how to tweet. I think I am better at telling stories than tweeting. If I could tweet I could even consider flash fiction next.

Anyways, another thing of paramount importance is getting back to writing. I want to start working from home. Something that involves writing. So, let me get back into my writer's chair and put on my creative hat. What do you wish to read next... a poem, a story or a discourse on how to raise a child!!

See you soon. And yes, your comment brings a smile! Thanks.

Night out

2011-03-18T23:41:00.002+05:30

What does night out mean to a mum of a 9 month old. Yay yay yay M turns 9 months tomorrow. So, well let me celebrate a late night in front of my machine. You do need some quiet time and a quiet corner to do your writing. The sound of the whirring fan is my sole companion. I am just hoping this piece is not punctuated by M's cry. Babies are such a darling. But thats not all to them. Ah, I only wonder how my parents survived 3 kids.

With the 9th month M is getting into a schedule now. Or rather a better schedule. She has started getting up on time which means she sleeps quite early these days. Touch wood. And well, she has taken to solids too. Is it going to be a mum's rant, I wonder!

Well, well, well.... I have become a mum! Celebrations!!!!!!!!!! ha ha.. Being a parent means such loads of responsibility. For an infant you are her sole care taker. You teach her everything... and one day they grow up , just like you and me did.

Hmmm... why don't I write often. I wonder how many of you drop by. A few I know. A few I do not. S''s comment on takeaway was lovely. It is strange how I have come to love S sooo soo much. Well... let me stop poring my sugary romantic thoughts and come back to writing. Well, I recently dug out my copy of Kotler from the spare room. It was lying under the bed. Uncared, unsung and unhonoured. So here it is back on my desk. And we read about customization and customerization. And I smile. I am not the same ME that I was when I used to take that book to school. I do not have the same pals that I had. No more of the pathetic coffee and rounds of scrabble and going home late. But I am glad I have found myself again.

Thank you Philip Kotler (thats his name, na! )

Love u

Vid

Basket ball, shopping and eating out

2011-03-02T22:37:00.002+05:30

Dribble, dribble and shoot

It was after ages or so it seemed, when I dribbled that ball. Voila! There it was , a basket. Running around with the ball was just too liberating. There were no more strings attached, if you understand what it means. It was like becoming Vid again. The only thing was I was too excited and wasted too much of energy rather than playing tactfully. I lost. But did I? I actually FOUND! I found Vid again :)

There is this guy called Jai (Joy in Bengali) who is the coach. He said I play extremely well, at least in comparision :P

Shopping and eating out

I went out shopping today. Alone! I pleaded with S to come along. Bribed him with a lunch at our favorite South Indian eatery. But he turned me down. Well, the dude was working from home. So there can be no far away lunches. So, I went on my on. I never knew Pantaloons housed infant section too. Now a mom of a Lil One, I climbed the stairs and checked out the infant section. After spending some good time I was ready with 4 dresses for P. Then I went down stairs and picked an offwhite Patiala and a royal blue Kurta for myself. Indulgence.... wait more is coming. Then I crossed the road and went to my favorite eatery and had Idli, vada and Dosa. Oh, Yes!!!! Saw 6 youngsters sitting on a table infront of mine. Was smiling... got reminded of my own college days and our hang outs ... Then I thought M would be one day a young girl and then it would be her and her friends ... And I sipped my filter coffee merrily... Missed S terribly...

Hmmm... Vid's day out... Loved it. I want to be me again. I want to be me again. I want to be me again.

Is this a paradox or a philosophy gone beserk?

Awaiting Patiently!

2011-02-18T14:49:00.002+05:30

It's nice to know you came by. It's nice to know you will wait. It's nice to know you will wait with patience.

Well, I should reward you for your patience, shouldn't I? What should I tell you today Annie. Should I tell you that the first part of my book has come true, I have a daughter now. And yes, I am sure she will turn into a beauty. She will not be someone who will dance on the floor with sneakers. She will be a stilleto dudette. Well, it is up to her really. I am merely imagining. And well what does this imagination suggest, did I secretly want to dress the way I never dressed, and be the person I never was. Think about it, we never really are sure about who we are, yet we try to be someone else. Well, I wonder who I tried to be... or rather why I gave up ... (i chuckle).

There has been so much of overhaul in life in the last one year. A precious little popped out... and I went under the knife for once and all in my life.. Fretting each time you go to the pediatrician ... hoping your babe has gained enough weight, debating on breast or formula with concerned family members, learning how to give M a nice bath, worrying when M rejects solid food...

Oh... I have become a Mommy, haven't I?

I wonder if a man ever underwent so so so so so many emotional ups and downs like a woman does. Motherhood is so humbling...you realize what effort your parents have put in. Soiled nappies, scattered toys, the yelling at the middle of nights... and still M or any other baby remains apple of their parents eyes. The toothless grin is so amazing, so fulfilling, so gratifying. You thank GOD that there is this one creature who loves u the way you are... who loves to see your face when she wakes up... whose face lights up at your sight... And there are trying times when you wonder how did your parents ever raise three crazy kids...and M is only 8 months yet...

Well, I am sorry i got carried away Annie... But what else should i talk to u. Should i talk about aspirations that have been swept under the carpet. Well...did u see nobody killed Jessica... it is a great watch...but not something i would like to see at this stage... with little time that i have on hand i am up for good comedies...but anyways i got to watch this movie. i loved rani mukherjee out and out... i wish i were like her character.. err.. what was her name.. ha ha ha...

ya... everyone wants to be someone else... This is a neat, non confusing philosophical dose for your nocturnal visit.

see u around ..
much love,

uhi sathi

Restart

2011-02-09T15:23:00.002+05:30

My machine is now 5 years old... It seems like honeymoon is over... may be not yet. S bought a brand new battery for our 5 yr old companion of HP descent. HP Pavilion dv 4000 has proudly sat on my desk till M came into our lives. Since then I folded it and put it away in a dark corner. But I guess it is time to restart!

So, I now have a cleaner machine (thanks to the guy who serviced my machine) and well it is again a pleasure to thumb my fingers through the keypad and generate some literary piece ;)

Hmm... lets go the list way...one of my old time favorites...

#1. Downloading microsoft security essential
#2. Listening flute... Niladri Kumar
#3. Going out for movie...Nobody killed Jessica...
#4. Want to write mails again
#5. Want to make a crazy set of pals again and laugh my head off...

Thats all for now....

With lots of musical notes

Vid

Peek a boo!

2011-02-02T14:29:00.002+05:30

caught you, didn't I! Now, don't lie that you expected me around here. This corner has been neglected ...err deserted to be precise. I actually feel quite foreign around here! Anyways...the girl with too many exclamation marks is back here again... Now don't snigger on the 'girl' part!

So howz life been dude? Yeah, I know we are all growing up...but the best way to be a child again is to have one around you... And then you coo around the home...and sing song while you take the lil one out on a walk... from muttering to oneself on the street to singing rhymes....

She is sleeping now... I wonder if she dreams... What does she dream of... Mommy picking her up on her shoulders and playing 'chini kee bori!' or up in Pa's arms as he sprints through our little hall. Or may be Dadima showing her flowers...

My cousin had come over recently and she said she'd love to be M's age... M is so cool, she chirped. M is up... catch you again..

With love,

VidE

New Wonder

2010-04-26T21:55:00.002+05:30

Life is so rewarding... It rewards one with experiences. Whether it is a failed love story or carefree school days... it leaves a rich gem each time... gems that you can string together...or form a crossword...

why do we call crossword a cross word... you go up and you go down...but are the words cross with you... I wonder.. and suddenly I hope facebook should give you more options than just Like a status...it should introduce... I WONDER!

Little bundles that life brings in... little joyous bundles...moments filled with love... happiness and anxiety... Like a baby in the household... You can think of one hundred and ten names for her... and when she is actually here...she will decide what hair cut she will wear... Imagine kids giving parents one big opportunity to impose themselves on their rebellious selves... They let you name them .. voila...

How would it be with a little one running across my room... with her picture on my desk... with her smiles reflected on my face... is it like reliving your childhood? "I WONDER!"

To Annie with lil love ;)

2010-03-14T07:52:00.003+05:30

Hi..

I think somewhere we have lost the connect - especially the one when you do not pause to see if it is alright to ring up in the middle of the night or early early morning.... heck, lemme still get ahead and write a crazy crazy mail that you will I know savor with your black cup of morning tea... I guess these are few side effects of a greatly romantic marriage...at least in the early 10 years buddies are given a back seat ;)... but well I do believe strong ppl are like garlic..they smell out ..oops stand out... not withstanding however much deep they have fallen albeit in love..

It is 7.22 am not too early by your standards... i would have loved to wander in an empty apartment and fix myself a cup of women's horlicks... since I have given up coffee...or have I? (after a break of few months ...coffee is giving me a kick like it were a shot of Tequila...) Coming back to the empty apartment.. would I not have loved pottering around in a tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts that i am wearing rite now... but well that would be off the limit...I miss such a freedom i have had only in europe... living alone has its own set of advantages and disadvantages..sigh*!

hmmm... reading richard branson can be addictive... because i have been reading him up... guess what taken to tubular bells... and i guess such music gives me a high that alcohol fails to deliver... thence the mail... thence the word THENCE... peculiar na... THENCE... :P

sooo.. would you like to go back to those spaced out moments... i mean those moments have been rare for me for quite sometime... I wonder why am i so damn practical.. why am i the one who is so lizzy pizzy...trying to please everyone :P... Where is my own backbone...where are my decisions... why do I draw a blank when it comes to standing out like a garlic that I prided myself to be. Ofcourse, i like the quirky crazy me :) . It does surface once in a while...and when i do not bother what ppl outside might think of when the sound of tubular bells emnates from my room punctuating the whistles of pressure cooker that's vehemently steaming another morning meal...

I sometimes find it claustrophobic to live with people these days... am i too accustomed living alone... I find it hard to look up people in their eyes... eye contact means an inane conversation... when I was younger and listened to Pink Floyd behind closed doors..shutting out my parents....... why do we sometimes want to close out... i hear puja bells chiming as tubular bell dies out in my laptop.... and a humming..

mum in law was out for a week...and i was doing the pujas and all...staying at home a few of such things is actually some form of engagement.... our puja place is a small almirah fixed on wall so you must stand up as you go about pouring water over lord shiva... I love doing that...giving Shiva a nice bath... with nice cold water... i guess it just is natural since i love the time inside shower myself so much...the soothing water...continuous like life... new like each drop... amazing..

wow...so my morning raga is about the feeling of being invaded again... where is the space thats my own... is that why workholics drown in their work...to find their space... do you understand what i mean...

i do not cook my food... not that i would love to swap places with u :P (a perfect superwoman who manages her kitchen as she does the HRD)...but i would like to sometimes not have an overprotective parental figure breathing over my neck..fussing around that I might tire myself cooking a lil somehting...

oops... so thats the cribbing... just like another teeny meeny teenbopper... and the lil kid in me kicks up... the lil kid... literally speaking..

how would our relationship be..i wonder.. whatever it is...she will still complain and probably crib and mail her pals about a mom who is so .. so ..so .... dunno that yet~

lemme replay the tubular bells... and then get into shower and then get dressed into proper clothes and then go out and check what breakfast has been cooked..

till then bye from both the Big Kid and the Lil Kiddo...

and yah... no need to reply... this could have been just another blog post... only i thought of you this morning

sending you a lil love that u might accomodate :)

sarcasm is the way wid Vid...

The Kite Runner

2009-10-23T13:48:00.002+05:30

No book that I have ever read made me feel like crying. Several time a sob rises up my throat as I continue reading the Kite Runner. Perhaps, it is a work that dissolves the abstractness of words like poignance and despondence into hard core truth.

I read this book in the typical European weather. Under the yellow light of the lamp on bedside, on the couch where sunlight filters through the large French window and on the small 4 seater dining where I drink my coffee with some delicious upma.

It is foggy this morning and I have finished my book. I feel foggy too. At loss with words. It is as though I have been to those streets in Afganistan, as though I have met Hasan-seen him grow up into a fine young father. It is as though I am Amir, and I feel like kneeling down and seek forgiveness from my Khuda. It is as though I am Soraya Jaan, waiting for Sohrab to speak. But I cannot be Sohrab, I cannot fathom the depth of sorrow the little one went through.

It is only a story I tell myself, as I choke on tears. But what a story it is!

A bout of ...

2009-10-22T21:13:00.002+05:30

She hurried to the toilet and doubled over the pot. She was sure that she was getting sick. But nothing came out of her mouth. She straightened herself looked at her reflection in the little mirror that hung on the opposite wall. Eyes stung from crying, hair a little dishevelled and the tip of her nose, it had gone a little red. It was an adorable nose. Beautiful by the definition of beauty in their caste. Sharp nose, curving ever so gently.

She wiped her tears, which had already dried .Had Avinash not been away for the last few months, she would have wondered if she had gotten pregnant. She crinkled her nose and smiled. It must be the chickpeas that she had for lunch. Not easy to stomach. Specially when you are eating alone. She tried to shoo away loneliness which had again descended in her little house. She hummed a song and moved about wondering when he will come back.

Playing Piya Ghar Aavenge at BollyExclusive.com

2009-09-21T14:17:00.001+05:30

Playing Piya Ghar Aavenge at BollyExclusive.com

Shared via AddThis

A rainbow

2009-09-17T13:44:00.002+05:30

A little happy, a little sad. It's like a rainbow.

Sri had said something like that. On a cloudy day like this I wish there were a rainbow.

I wonder quite often, why we forget our past.... "Which place was that?" I read a friend's comment in face book. I try hard myself to figure where exactly the photo was taken. The photo has couple of girls laughing over nothing. It was us in the college days.

Those days... they end up being a sweet remembrance. Past is all but your memory. It is thus I get scared when my memory starts fading. Is it not in my memory that I still am with my past. I wonder why you tell me to live in the present. This moment now will also come back to me when it is past and tomorrow becomes today.

I feel happy to see that people I had loved are happy. But there is a twang of sadness when I see that their memories of me has faded! Do I never occur to you my friend? Have I just become a nice surprise in your inbox, who you would love to respond, amidst the hustle bustle of your present life. And you do end up sending two lines before you sign off for your weekend.

Such is life. You move on. You make new friends. But is it not the same cycle again. The present becomes the past. Newer friends like Sri... and then life goes by and by and takes away your friends. Is life like an ocean that sweeps your precious shells away from the beach in one wave...and yet in another bestows upon you with splendid new treasures!

(currently reading Catalina, Somerset Maugham...that might explain the melancholy, which is accentuated by the European weather...and no new mails :) )

Will you speak?

2009-09-10T15:07:00.002+05:30

Flash fiction

(add a sentence and we will carry the story forward...)

"I am tired of my monologues. Will you say something for a change? Just say anything. Any damn thing... Speak, man!". Seema covered her face with her hands and slumped on the couch. Silence rang like a clamor of bells.
(btw going for lunch now... cu)

Why Marry?

2009-09-04T18:31:00.002+05:30

There there, I am not starting the annoying debate on marriage. Nor am I pondering upon the reasons of the institution called marriage. ( At this point I am however tempted to ponder why marriage is called an institution anyway). Hmm, let me brush away these distracting thoughts and tell you about this fascinating drama (not the one you are thinking about!). Well, Why Marry, is a drama penned by Williams, Jesse Lynch, 1871-1929.

Snuggled in my bed on the right side (Linus's side of the bed!) on a wet European morning after a good breakfast I nestled my laptop on my lap and began to read, Why Marry. It was not by curiosity that I landed up reading this drama. I was looking up for free reading material and I stumbled upon http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/.

It is a great resource! I immediately jumped on the prized collection and after a casual browsing decided upon Why Marry? It is a Pulitzer winner drama. It was a nice read. Simple, honest and dusted with a subtle sprinkle of humor! What really amazed me was the essence of marriage or rather the doubts or the questions that the contemporary youth has. Mostly what bowled me over was the fact that the author was far ahead in time in his thoughts. He had a created a NEW WOMAN. The woman you see walking by or working in the next table... This was the NEW WOMAN at that time.. The challenges that this WOMAN sees in her marriage are portrayed so well in a drama of that era.. Be it a balance between life and work... or unsettling truth such as financial dependence is what a woman must have unless she is willing to give in to the legal prostitution which we call marriage. This is a rather bold statement that the author makes.. I am amazed he could think like this at that time...that era!

You must read the book, because my description is neiher a review nor a synopsis. It is just an instant reaction about certain portions that flash in my mind. It was quite witty when one of the character discloses that when he got married a quarter century ago, he asked his new bride..you like tutty-fruitie... The shy bride turned pink and nodded a YES. For a life time together the couple suffered innumerable helpings of tuttie fruitie because both abhored it and were just not able to say it for the other's sake!

:)

Now a lil bit of an update on VID... Vid is holidaying in Europe...Drinking hot Douwe Egbert choclate, watching the rain shimmer in sun like snow before it touches the ground, wondering if life is actually passing by or standing still and reading a little bit... Also she hopes her spurts of writing continue like the shower in the Netherlands!

Doi..

Hey

2009-06-21T21:53:00.003+05:30

Hey!

When I woke up this morning, I was in a strange mood. Yes, I had slept till late and well well well there was this bizarre dream that I woke up with. Is it not strange that people we have known in the past visit us sometimes in our dreams, especially when you thought those people were forgotten or were no longer important to you the way they used to be. Anyways, this is the analysis that I am doing now. In the morning I was smiling. I smiled to myself and wanted to call X who I saw in my dream. I did not really debate whether to reach my phone and dial the number but for an instant I almost decided against calling up. Thinking that I could rather summarize my emotions into a piece writing than calling up. That is because words do me more justice when I write them down. Otherwise in a hurry to express myself I often speak what I did not intend to.. So my dream could become a poem or a story. ... I do not know when I abandoned the thought of writing or simply put moved on from the writer's plane to this normal chatty girl. It was then that i wondered whether call up after a quick shower and may be a breakfast than just right then.

As I did not want to keep mum waiting for me at breakfast I quickly showered and showed up at the breakfast table. After the tall glass of freshly squeezed sweet lime juice and a few soaked almonds I locked myself in solitude. Mom must have thought that I was either feeling too hot given the sultry morning or that I was having a headache. Thats because I generally spend a lot of time with her chitchatting. I do not know how she felt when she saw me unusually quiet and a little lost. When she had goaded me to speak up I just smiled at her. It was then that I had asked her, "Ma, if you know something is bad for you for ex. choclate but you feel tempted to have some, what should you do? Give in to the temptation or forget it?". Since it was at the breakfast table Ma told me that if something would upset my system I should rather refrain. I did not give it too much of a thought, or so it seems like when I analyze the morning conversation.

Inside my room I called up X and mentioned my dream. X did not ask what the dream was like. I somehow felt good about this fact. In the sense that the dignity of my dream remained intact that way. Later, i felt that my ream might not have translated well when i put words to it. It was good the way I had seen it.. like a sequence from a novel that I will write one day.

Cheers,

vid

Tring tring

2009-06-16T23:32:00.002+05:30

Ok...so this another one in quick succession...

Sri called up... What an appropriate timing. I was literally all over myself... With all my thoughts translating into words, competing with one other to come out first. and as hard as I tried to be rational and coherent, I told Sri that all the things I wanted to share were equally important and did not come in any sequence per se. So... when I sounded a little understandable I read out the first para of my blog to her. She was glad , I guess.

I feel it wonderful that Sri does not read my blogs. I told her so. And she said, she might some day.. You know with me sitting by her side or just like that... And then she said its much more fun to be with me than to be reading about what I am writing..

Suddenly it reminds me of you. You know that I know that you read me! Is it bletter this way. Or did you ever think like Sri? Did you ever think that being with me would be more fun than just reading me? huh?

Well, it was nice to hear what Sri had to talk about. She remembered how we had run through the Park Street like little children. Oblivion of the traffic and the people passing by. It was great... some moments in life... :)

I thougth of Annie today. I was telling R, how impulsive i used to be. I recalled our Godawari trip. Annie and me drove down all the way just like that. Trekked up the little hill and lay down... The blue sky seemed a little closer than usual... I dont quite remember much but the greenery and the trees... and just lying down...

Hmm... I feel like my old self.. Do we change really? I tell them I have mellowed down.. Does that mean that I have grown boring???? I wonder... Hmmm... it reflects somewhere in the posts that I write, I guess... The reader is looking for something quirky...something crazy... or so I think..

It is good that you who read me, know me through my words and people who know me up close know me as me...as the girl with a hint of kohl in her eyes...and pretty smile ;)

cheers to the lovely night..

vid

No comments!

2009-06-16T21:37:00.002+05:30

Well, there have been no comments. But so what! I feel like writing. It is good, is it not!! I don't mean not having comments, but having friends in life! Yes, I have coupla friends finally in Kolkata... You guys know about R and Sri and there are 2 more. But R and Sri both are special. So different yet similar. Both tall and ambitious. Both young and raring to go! R is married, Sri is not. But that hardly matters. We can be ourselves...this chatty girls that we are. Independent, ambitious... dreamers... It is great to see oneself in others. I sometimes think I will grow into a lazy log. Having nothing to do, no challenges to challenge myself... I wonder if I will regress into a typical maadu housewife... something Milanese warned me of long back...

Okay, I am chatty today... I know (smug smile...)... Where should I start?? It was a lazy morning... I woke up at 6 and fell back to sleep snoozing the alarm all the time. My decision to start an exercise routine fell apart as I went back to sleep. Yes, I need to exercise.. I am losing all my flexibility. I wonder now that I used to dance so well... once upon a time!!

Hmmm... in the afternoon after a sumptous lunch that comprised besan ka roti, with kachar ka sabji thrown in and mixed with generous helping of curd and crunchy onions. I loved it. Then I sat down with Anuradha Roy's novel. The author is the daughter of my neighbour.. Well in between the pages sleep found me.

Hmm.... there is a disconnect in thought now... Mom dropped in for a chat. So we were talking for a bit! Now I suddenly remember hearing this wonderful song ... aaoge jab tum sajna... angna phool khilenge... Remember hearing it at the store while shopping with Sri this weekend.

I am soo glad there is good music , good food, good friends... Thank you God!

You can find the lyrics here...

My new friend

2009-06-11T22:38:00.004+05:30

R walked inside the cafe. Tall and pretty, the girl clad in black saree was elegant yet girlish. We had met twice before. In both instances we had met during wedding functions. It is strange we made friends or rather acquaintance. It is too early to call it friendship or is it? Being friends is perhaps natural to us. In not time we had exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch!

How a friend of mine, had long ago told me that it is difficult to make friends as you grow older. I could not comprehend him then, as I do now. On a second thought have not my mom and dad had more relatives than friends? During one particular phase of life, friends seemed to be utmost important. With time things change... we enter newer relationships and there are changes. Sometimes we relocate and we leave friends behind. It has been such a journey for me. Having left my best friend in Kathmandu, I have often wondered that will we share the same connect when I go back. With a change of residential address for both of us and change in marital status quo as well... I wonder if our friendship has survived. It is true we might not be in the same plane. But we might strike off again as pals of yesteryears!

Hmm.. back to R. It was nice meeting her! She is a virgo just like Linus. And shares his birthday too. What more she loves scrabble...so we might just plan a scrabble day some day soon!

:-)

vid

Mumbai to Kolkata

2009-06-09T00:15:00.002+05:30

Mumbai is Mumbai. In deed!

My short trip to Mumbai will go down as one of the memorable trips in my life. Of course I met Kritin and we fell instantly in love with each other. By the time Linus came Kritin had made sure that Vid Aunty would tell stories only to him. Linus uncle smiled sheepishly as the three year old followed me every where.

Hmm... so we have grown up to become uncles and aunties ourselves. How quickly time passes by! In deed! My 2 nights, 3 days trip to Mumbai was such. Even before I could assimilate the cosmo culture, I am back to my comfort zone. Mumbai is in deed fast. People are go getters or so it seems. But what stood odd was the lingo. Be it a 'tu jaa naa', or 'jaa yeh rakh de'. Odd in the sense that it does not sound polite. And Kritin too is not untouched by the Mumbaiya style. 'ajeeb haalat hai', as he would have commented! I on the other hand come from the school of thought who believe 'aap' a more suitable pronoun to be used while addressing people. 'Tu', I used to think was reserved for people quite close to you. It is such in Nepali. The three distinct pronouns that our language has as opposed to English's YOU, can be appalling to both a child and an English trying to learn Hindi! Bengali has two pronouns, 'tumi' and 'aapni'. Aapni, is reserved for unknown people and people who you are formally paying respect. Other wise it is tumi!

I read about tweets in the newspaper while I was whiling my time in the Mumbai airport. And I should tell you here, I really liked the Mumbai airport. The one at Kolkata is really small in comparison. No wonder I had to queue up for security check for a long time while departing from Cal.

Okay, another disconnected thought... I was thinking this again on my flight.The first thought was to start writing. Writing a blog post, a story sometime soon and more. The next thought was... who reads it anyway.. So may I request my readers to let me know why you come to my corner and go through my babbling? What do you see in my writing?

I am waiting fellas!

Alone

2009-06-03T22:12:00.002+05:30

Sitting alone in my room, I wonder or rather ponder. What exactly being alone means. Does loneliness manifest in the movement of my eyes at the sound of foot steps, anticipating your home coming? Or is it the telltale vacant side of the double bed which seems so ghastly as the night progresses?

Not long ago, I had told somebody that my love is like a wine, rather like a red red wine. It reminds me of the poem, My love is like a red red rose by a Scottish poet, Robert Burns. An aquaintence once remarked, that I should trying falling in love in order to arouse my literary stirrings. It is strange that I recollect that yet another aquaintence a few years ago had hoped that the literary stirrings were purely literal! As I try to not miss you, I wonder if we are actually scared of recieving love? Loving someone is not really hard. All you need to do is forget yourself. Like Radha's love for Krishna. The divine love seeks nothing. It only revels in the company of the beloved. And when the loved one plays hide and seek, the divine love gets intensified.

Love that we often speak of as in between a man and a woman is apparently quite different from divine love. That is what 'they' tell us. What is divine love? Is it not the same foolish emotional devotion that a teenage girl professes for her recent crush? How is it different? That moment, that one moment, it is pure surrender. Hmm, now we are losing the essence of love in the web of words. Words like purity and surrender! Love perhaps is a habit. When my sister had left home for higher studies , it took me several nights before I could adjust to her absence. We used to share a king size double bed. WHen she moved out, I rolled over to her side of the bed. Perhaps in an attempt to fill up the vaccuum.

Is love sweet nothings then? The twitters of love birds that I hear in the morning ( I like to believe they are love birds :-)). Is it why I meaninglessly call you for the umpteenth time, half afraid that I might be annoying you. Love cannot be too big or too complex. It must be simple. It must be a red rose, or a yellow one or just pink. It could be a green leaf, it could be rain.... it could be the coffee I make for you. It could be the integration sums that dad taught me. It could be learning to live life. It could be the strength to look ahead. It could be the sheer creativity to innovate a smilometer to capture your day's smiles!

Missing you Linus,

vid

Drowning ...

2009-05-24T16:47:00.002+05:30

Before I close my eyes
And let the waves suck me in,
I wish to feel the same warmth
I wish to feel the heat of love.

The waiter hands me another Margarita,
I wonder if it is I who washes it down my throat
Or is it you who pull the strings
And wash away my poise

I am lost or I have lost
I am not me anymore
I look into the mirror
The hair dresser tells me that the new look is killing.
I wonder if she actually knows that I have been dead for a long while.

I stir in my sleep,
You hold me tenderly,
Pull my cheeks into a smile...
and hands over my shoulder..
Is it only in my dreams that I embrace you??

I wake up with dark circles under my eyes
Was it the drink, I wonder..
When you pull me close
"Your kohl has smudged" you say.

No more of your games
No more empty gazes driving through the wall
No more trying to make sense out of this wordy world
It is just me who is bobbing her head ...

Have I drowned... or am I drowning
I wonder , as I order yet another drink.

I want to be a ...

2009-05-23T22:39:00.002+05:30

how would life be, if I were a log! Hmm... I would lie the whole day in bright sun. I wouldn't care if the air conditioner were on or not... I would not sweat!!

If I were a log, I wouldn't fall in love. A log afterl all is a fallen tree! How could that which is already fallen still fall further!!!

Sometimes the devil pokes out its head. My lazy mind doesn't even bother to shoo it away. I ask him, what is it that you want. Mischief!, he says with a gleam in his eyes.

What if I transport you back in time, when you were still young and fancied falling in love? The devil asks.

I look at him unfazed. With time definition of love has changed, dear devil (no resemblance with IPL's dare devils, mind you!). What once kept me preoccupied has become a different philosophy. If I go back to the time, I see a young reckless driver, talking to an illusive lover while driving her car alone.... With the fast change in time, I see the driver in me has disappeared. I avoid driving. I do not enjoy it anymore. Is there any correlation between driving and being in love? Or any covariance..hee hee

Glossary:
std deviation of x X standar deviation of y X correlation xy= Covariance

Another one in quick succession

2009-05-02T22:06:00.002+05:30

This is going to be a quick, curt and quirky post...

So my dear Ankils and Auntijis...if you are reading my blog..kindly stop reading at this point... I regret I ever disclosed to the relative world of mine (know what I mean... :P) that I have a miniscule presence in the web. Well, then you lose the whole damn point.... Minkoo do not use foul language... Damn! I never knew damn was foul... (pls note... my pet name is not Minkoo :P)

Hoping that I have pissed off the clan of write good feel good relatives, let me move to a pungent world.... What is pungent really? The smell of Hydrogen Sulphide in the chemistry lab...??? That is the memory of a time gone by... God... how I hated Chemistry...organic chemistry to be more specific..

So, why does the world have to be perfect... I sometimes wonder if perfect is actually beautiful? I ask myself is not perfection an obsession? Imperfectness is natural... Wear a pajama and a loose t...let your hair hang loosely on your shoulders... don't bother if your brows have been done... or your upperlips (damn! why was I born a girl....men dont shave their chests, do they? then why bother with eyebrows!!!!!!!! ) Why bother that you are looking great while all you want to do is enjoy that movie that you were dying to see.... I sometimes wonder if certain people have only one parameter in life... 'gotta look good!'

what about gotta feel crazy.? I sometimes wonder why i am this good girl... is it how we ought to be once we grow... okay let me state the obvious... once we grow old!
Need to smile when you should...laugh politely when you should... bear boring company when you should.... GOD!

Am I cribbing? Hmm...that should be the surest sign of getting old...or is it about getting creative... a satisfied soul seldom writes... unless there is some restlessness the fingers do not click on the keyboard....

I think of it now... I have not told Sri that I blog... Or I would have an avid reader (another avid reader, as I would like to believe!!! ;) :) ) .... Sri...has she been introduced yet? Okay, let me tell you all, vid has a friend called Sri... She is another crazy soul...so obviously we get along well... She doesnt think i am 'proper proper' probably because she doesnt know me from skool... she thinks i am this pagal pagal girl....(girl..not woman...aha) ...

More on Sri later...

good night for today...and thanks Susant for reminding me that I have a blog!!

Signs of growing old

2009-05-02T21:50:00.002+05:30

It has been a long long time that I have made a list. A list of crazy things??? Well, well well.... Vid is no longer crazy... thats because she is growing wise...grr did somebody say old!!!!!!!!!! :D

okay top 10 signs:

1. Birthdays become a chore. It is another day when you are eating out!

2. You catch the smell of tobacco on a teenager and realize that you have passed the phase when you could have fagged..

3. You look for straight cut relaxed fit jeans and prefer them anyday over skin hugging trousers.

4. You have very few single friends... And you tell them tragedy in love is a state of being high..a magnificient stupor that few experience!

5. You have more relatives than friends!!

6. You wonder what to blog about? No crushes to rant on... no more meaningless chatter... no fictitious star or GOD who would smoke grass...

7. You struggle to list out points after you reach the 6th point.

8. Blank

9 Blank

10 Blank :P :)

A toast to my readers,

Thanks for having checked up on me after all..

vid

Adding some spice

2009-02-26T21:24:00.003+05:30

Tadka laga!!

Hmmm.. as JB (my once upon a pal in Switzerland) used to say, a majestic marriage has made Vid quite unimaginative. So, I took stock of my life today and realized that it needed a tadka! So, here is a little imaginative story... ;-)

What's a life without heartaches, at least it is quite boring for a budding writer. Heartaches give you immense material for creativity, trust me! When the tummy is comfortably full, all one can do is doze away! Well, to feel the pangs the tummy needs to be empty... a contended heart can write no poems...

Anyways, let me try to add some spice, for my dear readers. Yesterday evening I looked in the corner of my heart. I shuffled about to see if there remained the love that I had stashed away a loooong time ago. Hmm.. the telephone wire lay ripped apart...the connection is gone, the poet sadly realized. Ah! those were the days when the lover in me would behold the world in tears and promise that this love shall last me a life time. And when the spring has come, and I make an attempt to clean the kabad I find broken records! I am not a great listener of music, but there was a time when life seemed to be a beautiful song. Young and reckless, the heart would keep falling in and out of love. But now like a wine in cellar, my love is resting undisturbed, maturing day by day... Ah, Linus don't you feel lucky!! Hmm..

So, despite myself...despite the mellowed, and matured.... yet sensuous and subtle , I pick up a shred of what seems a broken heart and examine it. The love seems to have seeped away from the shattered piece. Should I let him know, I muse. Imagine calling your ex beau to tell him, that there is no connection anymore. Who would do it? Someone, who would dream of going bungee jumping, or a bored writer who has no other spice to stir up a delicious story! No, cooking up stories mind you!

As soon as I flipped open my 3 year old Moto razer, I realized I had not fed the number corresponding with that broken heart. Hmmm...

"hellooooooooo"

"hmmm...., tune mera number feed kar rakha hai?"

"kaun bol raha hai???"

ooops...wrong number!!

I hang up hurriedly and decide to take up culinary classes in stead of giving writing a shot. Mom calls me in the kitchen and asks tadka daal or plain daal..

Since I have a sore throat you know what happens to the tadka!

It's been a long long time

2009-01-30T10:05:00.002+05:30

It has indeed been a long time, that I have written something for myself. So, what am I implying- ghost writing or blogging as a profession! Ahem, it is the latter which is occupying me at the moment!

So, let us connect to each other from where we had left! My dear reader, I am thankful to you that you manage to pull me out of my hibernation time and again. That you bear with me even when I (regularly) let down the promises of writing regularly!

Now, that I have decided to finally write for myself again, I feel free! This is a strange freedom! I do not know what I will write. I wonder if I can still pen down stories that tug the heart. I ask myself if I still have that curious writer in me, who will pick up the story of the chai wallah at the entrance of passport office in Kolkata. Can I spin a story around the chai wallah and his nod to the security guard standing in the window of first floor of the passport office indicating that the person sipping his chai has paid for more than the tea and should be allowed to jump the queue. Can I start a story called 'gate pass' as they call it there! Can I write about Mohmad who I met in front of the passport office. Mohmad who looked like a young ruffian but promised that my file would be dug out if i could pick the tab for some chai pani!

Hmm, okay so that was my ramble from my tiring to and fros to the passport office. However, I scented a story there. The way the chai wallah threw in a cup ful of sugar in the boiling tea. The way a little boy sat near his stall eating daal bhat. The way an old lady sat on a stool selling passport forms. The dalals (brokers) moving to and fro fishing for a customer.

There must be more material for a story... But well isn't it wonderful to see a story in there. I wonder if I will be able to describe you the long queues, the impolite gatekeeper shooing away the crowd, the noise, the hustle bustle, the anxiety and more!

Hoping to write some more tomorrow!

Anti Climax

2008-12-08T10:46:00.002+05:30

Dear Curious friend,

My last post on Swara and Avnish, stirred in a wave of curiosity. It was intended! A friend of mine who had long forgotton me, finally rang me up at the mention of these sweet names. I had been thinking that by the time he calls me up, Swara and Avnish would both stop being imaginary cutie pies!! So, my dear curious reader, there is no good news in the offing. I will keep you posted any case!

Best wishes,

the good old vid

Of life, of happiness, of satisfaction

2008-11-07T12:38:00.002+05:30

Life need not be philosophized, he says. You just put a logic and it will work! Will it?, I wonder.

Think of how as a baby you saw life. You saw Ma and you smiled. After she fed you warm milk, you purred like a satisfied kitten. She snuggled you and you fell asleep. There is such a beautiful logic, isn't there?

What happens when you grow up... Somewhere you fuzz up the logic and call it fuzzy logic. Of course it is not just zero or one... black or white...but is it worth looking at life with grey shades on?

jo dil naa kare, woh kar ke karoge kya

'gar dil kee na suno, toh sunoge aur kya

raaste bahut hai manjil magar ek

'gar kadam aaj ruk gaye, toh chal kar kaoge tum kya

Life is a beautiful story. It is a lovely poem. It is a saga of going on... Do not get stuck, he tells me again. I look at him smile and know what I am going to do!

:)

Swara and Avnish

2008-11-05T14:51:00.002+05:30

Finally I write about them... or finally some one has been curious??

Well... what do I talk of them... People tell me that they are sweet names... After a series of deep thinking each night, debating on one name and then the other...finally I settled for the two..

Avnish is another name of Lord Ganesha, I had read in the Internet. And it means the lord of the earth.

Swara (I am still wondering if it should spell Svara but I think without the 'w' the name lacks the power.. ;) ) is a sweet name.. it has an S and a V (I guess w means two v ;) )

Hmmm... have to see them and touch them in order to write about them...

Will do the writing after I get back home..

till then,

vid

Some Q n A early morning

2008-09-23T08:57:00.002+05:30

Do you know what a whiff is?

A whiff is a whiff is a whiff!!!

Why do we seek permanence in life?

Life is a whiff?

And what is a whiff???

Perfection cannot be in permanence. Isn't it true that you the precious one is also changing each moment. Look inside your body, many cells are born and many die. You are made of infinite new atoms. Look out, you are not who you were yesterday. Change, they say is the rule of nature. Change some say is the only thing that stays.
What a paradox!

So, what is love? Is it like a dew drop dancing on the edge of a leaf (I have read this line somewhere.... long time back.... in the library of my university during BE.... guess what i was upto reading such stuff amid gruelling vivas on electrical and electronics..)

Love is not permanent... it is not eternal... Love just is... It is no use seeking the answere whether it is permanent or temporary. Because in seeking you lose the essence of it.

Last night, before going off to sleep I said to Linus... when someone dies... she dies alone. She leaves behind her parents, her spouse, her children.... all of them who she had professed profound love for. But you still die... Die alone.

We are mortals... then why do we seek foreverness!

with this I end my blabber for the day.

Forever a writer ;)

vid

Maktoob

2008-09-22T09:43:00.002+05:30

It was another ordinary day and another ordinary walk. Had circumstances been different, I would never have remembered it. But chance had it such that I would keep going back to that day, that moment in time. It was a simple moment. For the first time in life I understood what 'freezing' means. Literally.

I hadn't frozen out of fear but some unexplained feeling. There I had to decide to walk one way or the other. I had reached another fork in the road of life. My walk would now have to choose a path. Was it chance, choice or comparison... I do not know. When I recall this incident after having chosen a path I thought was more secure or say safer...I often end up explaining my choice. It is then I realize that it was not my choice... because I couldn't have compared between the two. Comparison degrades. It was chance... it was fate... it had been already decided for me. I just walked. It was already written..

Cheap Thrills

2008-09-18T08:51:00.002+05:30

Why do people watch horror movies? Quite a common question. With an equally common answer- it gives a kick to the adrenaline.

This post doesn't come in response to RGV's Phoonk. I had dismissed Phoonk as another movie I wouldnt watch. I am not into horror genre at all. You can call me this typical girl who enjoys watching romcom... I also enjoy thrillers like Sarkarraj, A Wednesday, Kaun some rare offerings by the Bollywood... But then we are not talking about my choices.

My first experience with horror was Zee horror show. The ghastly faces spattered with tomato sauces made the tween in me cup my hands over my eyes. Years later Carrie was the only movie that I have watched of this genre. Me and horror movies are like impossible. Even Adidas cannot change this :P

Yet, the twist in the story of my life is such that I am here trying to write a horror story... not long it is going to be a 400 words long tale. It is a TOI competition ...and I thought let me try my luck... Get my name printed on TOI- the spell bound page.

To say the least, i am freaked out... because what ever i imagine turns out so funny... sample this... cold water bottle piercing into the chest of the man who is about to sip.... a man watches a horror movie to realize that he is not who he is .. He is the ghost- the man who was murdered ten years ago... And he finds his killer from the movie...and ..

No more..

I will post the story for you to have a nice laugh when I finish.

:-)

who said horror was just cheap thrills, it is huge amount of freaking hard work !

Abandoned

2008-09-01T22:03:00.002+05:30

This blog has been abandoned or so it seems. A friend of mine, rather a colleague of my hubby and an erstwhile neighbour of mine had once commented that a 'majestic' marriage has made me quite unimaginative. Hmm, even if I don't disagree, I am forever reminded of these words.

Why should something/some event make you unimaginative, I ponder. In the background I hear Linus yawn twice. He must be glad that I seldom post my silly thoughts in the blog. Good for him, he doesnt have to track it any longer. He must have forgotton that I write altogether. Well, I myself had.....almost!!

There are few faithful friends (gee, I know you visit once in a while) who just come in to check upon the good old vid. Blogs, you see are an excellent networking tool, better than orkut atleast. Here you would know what your buddy is up to... a silly poem on yawns or an interesting love story...

Hmm, should I make a promise about writing. I guess I should apologise first. Really?? Well, not really. But lets try and make Vid's corner a once in a week affair.

What say? any readers!! (any takers!!!)

Till then,

ciao

vid

Handwriting

2008-06-19T15:37:00.002+05:30

Handwritings!

When I was a kid, I did not think too high of my handwriting. I wrote distinct letters without joining them. During primary school, a teacher came and asked us if we wrote in 'joined' handwriting. Since she had looked down at those as lesser mortals, I joined the bandwagon of joined alphabet writing. It was not all, I tried giving the n's and the h's a nice curve that my sis had excelled in. Well, as a kiddo I looked upon my sis as a whizkid. Well, she was a sort of crazy kid- she woke up early for her school, did her homework, covered her books with brown paper and never tore them,and wrote poetry which she kept a bigtime secret from a little scoundrel called ME :)

After sometime the handwriting business took a nice turn. I had pen pals. Writing to them was a great achievement. I boasted to those who would care to listen that I had penpals from Canada and South Africa. Tracey was from S. Africa while there were other two girls from canada. Although I do not remember their names, I still have their letters stashed up in a drawer in my home in Nepal..

Few friends however never wrote letters. That is because there was email. I wish there weren't any sometimes...so that i could see the paper and wonder what made my pal write on that sheet. A no nonsense A4 paper picked up in a hurry from a nearby stack in a printer... a hurried scrawl... If one pauses and looks at a letter there is more than the content...not necessarily reading between the lines but touching the paper ....sweeping your glance through the curve of letters...and wondering how your pal looks like...

well... to keep in the mood of this blabber...let me post a random mail (email) that i picked to read.... Its lovely as well -

listen to a language you dont know, and try and imagine what would the thing
you dont understand mean. read the wackiest things on wikipedia. read
shaayari. do poetry. do humor. try and make a joke on which many
people will actually laugh. plan your next prank. try and remember old
jokes, and laugh. remember childhood, and your 5th b'day. and maybe
the 7th too...:p also think about the next exam.

Random thoughts

2008-05-15T21:52:00.004+05:30

I have not been writing but I ought to. I sometimes wonder why I have given away my blog URL to people who could be my relatives... There are times when I want to write without bothering about being politically correct. Aint it already cumbersome to be in a world which wants you to be like that!

Nevertheless, like a shy lover who postpones proposing the object of his affection for the lack of ambience while walking on a busy street, I postpone letting my hair down to allow a stream of emotions run riot through words. Okay, I have already started getting poetic. If no one I really knew was reading this blog... I could swear that a good whisky would probably set the mood for a poet in a blogger ;)

Okay, enough of my multiple standards ( I knew you just turned your nose on my double standards)now lets begin on some good enjoyable conversation.

I know we have not had a nice chat for a long time. Much has happened if you ask me. And nothing has happened if I see it as it is. The same peaceful life, the same pace with which I have quite managed my short temper, the same high maintenance me, the same fuss about home cooked food,... thats how life has been... but let me look around me...

Shrawani

Shrawani is a young woman with delicate hands. I like the fact that her name begins with "Sh". Suddenly I wonder why is not sugar spelt SHUGAR! Ah, I have begun to talk of me again. Shoo, i must not do that. Let me tell you about Shrawani instead. Her cheek go red when I mention that she is looking pretty. Well, she is pretty. Pretty like Neha in Five Point Someone. And like Neha she has a deep secret. A sad secret. She has suffered a loss too or rather she likes to think that she has. No, she does not remember what it was. May be she has stopped acknowledging it after all. Is that why we call time is a great healer. After some time all sorrows begin to fall in place like the pits in the road through which you drive home each day. You know where the pot holes are, and you are apt at saving the bump over each one.

Shrawani stands by the window of my room and stares at the moon. The crescent moon, her lover. It is amazing how this girl could have fallen for a moon- a distant and a cold object. She now tells me that she no longer spends night in her open terrace staring at the moon. "How long could I have gone begging, asking him to come to me? May be it is a woman's vanity or may be I was brought back to sanity." I muse at the rhyming of vanity with sanity. She continues- Ah, yes it was a painful decision, but not something i came all of a sudden. I knew it deep in my heart that the moon I saw in the silver bowl filled with water was as illusive as it could be. I therefore let me heart bleed and I ran downstairs, never to step back on the terrace." I wonder what she meant, "never to step back on the terrace".

Shashank
Let me also introduce you to Shashank. Slender, slightly dark and with that Buddha's smile, he is not exactly a picture of any young girl's hero but he is some material. This carefree devil has his own sweet charms. The way he wipes the corner of his mouth his slick ciggi as if wiping away an itch or the odd way in which he continues to stare at you while you are walking towards him. Well, this guy too has his own set of secrets. No, I do not know about those however. Guys you see are better at keeping their secrets. Hmm, girls must wash their linen clean...whether in public or private...but guys they will keep their dirty linen stacked in the laundry bag where it will stay as it is for days..months...years.... I sometimes feel what will I find if I dig deep down --- a dirty sock???

Sage

Now enough of these people... However, i must mention a sage I met today. She said she had conquered pain. she said...she had suffered like a butterfly caught in the net of fate... that with the loss of the ability to fly...the butterfly could only crawl on the ground. Now is it a feat or an accomplishment that this creature feels no more fear or no more pain. Can there be a pain bigger? If it is small it is nothing... I just dont feel it...

parting lines

These are again for those reader friends I hardly know, but who know quite a lot bout me. Thnx for asking after Linus. The guy is hale and hearty despite being married for now more than 2 years!!

Could this become a song...?

2008-02-28T10:06:00.003+05:30

Live this moment / As long as it lasts

Don't try to clutch me in your dainty little fists
For I am time and I flow like water

Don't fret about what tomorrow holds
For today you are holding his hand

Don't ask me for promises that end with 'forever'
A moment of togetherness is all I can offer

Don't be alarmed if your heart bleeds
For that is the proof that is not made of rock

Don't pin me foolishly to your bosom
It is just tonight that I can bring love to you

I am just a moment, I will thence pass
So, live it as long as it lasts...

Vidwata

कुछ सिलसिला ख्वाबो का !

2008-02-16T16:49:00.002+05:30

Hmm, blogspot now has this feature to change what you type in English to hindi...you saw the title of the post!

Well this is not a Hindi poetry but just some random jottings..

# no longer is any wait long
# no longer are horns too loud

Hmm... why do some people murmur 'I love yous' while sitting in solitude. Are they thinking of a beloved far away or are they used to talking to themselves. I had a friend who often would be lost in thoughts, smile to herself and then unintentionally say those three words... Don't know to whom?

She told me one day that she had got so much used to dreams...dreams of the right one... dreams of the one who is made for you... and all that mush... that she decided to talk to him even though he had not made the worldly appearance.

I sometime think her world is like Harry Potter's. In a way she lives with us, the non magical people (muggles) and she lives in the magic of her dreams. Hmm...

Now...some more disconnect in thoughts...
#Who can be better friends than words,
Words that you can twist and turn but will still come to you as the magical thing that can express you... be it your sorrow be it your smiles..

#write those words down....doodle...

#Friends.... are left behind....they get good jobs, they get married..they wonder if they have anything left to share with you...

#Friends can desert ... words will not.. Even after you decide to abandon your blog, or your stories or the pen and paper...they will still come rushing to you...

#In your loneliness if you ever welcome a soul who will not poke you where you are still vulnerable then thats words...

# did you see a movie called 'shabd' starring sanjay dutt and aish... what a co..both are now married, albeit to different people..

# now posting this piece because of my reverence to words today... what's been written shall not be deleted... he he he (the ravana laugh..:D)

Khwab aur Saagar

2008-01-18T22:27:00.000+05:30

hmmm poetry after long is it? Okay, I know it is a post after a little too long.

A year has gone, you will say.. but let me make amends...

There was something i was thinking of this morning.... thoughts had come in Hindi, I will write it that way (but not in devnagri) and translate it to English

Saagar key they tum,
Sagar mey mil gaye,
yu hee bas anjuli baar baar dooboti rahi
yu hee bas tumhey dhoondti rahi apne khwabo mey
-----

You belong to the ocean, you have gone back there,
I just kept on trying to fish you out of the water
between my palms that I so many times dipped in

You belong to my dreams, and I am used to looking for you there!

----

Hmm, what day you say dude? Well, do you sometimes miss some one like this. Someone who was never yours, never belonged to you. Someone who is just a dream, or an illusion.

No Comments but Compliments!

2007-12-13T15:39:00.001+05:30

Compliments are always nice and they make your day!

After having read somewhere that giving a compliment to a stranger (like a bank teller who you are interacting with in a bank, a salesperson in a boutique etc),was not considered uncivil but was rather one of the good things you could do in life. I actually do that once in a while. If I find someone with beautiful hair, I walk to that person and tell her. She is astonished at first, breaks into a smile and then perhaps gets slightly suspicious until I disappear!! It however leaves a nice finish, a lingering feeling of joy or rather, a joy out of doing yet another‘weird’ thing.

All that aside, I am now developing an ease at complimenting people who I 'know'.Be it D's lovely kurta or G's white shirt with nice black vertical stripes or M's beautiful eyes! Most often, we just don’t do that. Can you remember when were you last given a compliment? And when did you give one!

Every individual, specially women, crave for compliment. Be it on their dress, looks, hair, smile, eyes, or the curry they cooked last night! One thrives on such attention or the rare adulation.Though women are known to be checking out other women. But when it comes to compliments, all women are the same, they really need one, and they hardly give one!!

Men and compliments must come in a package. Specially when they are courting their sweethearts. They are apt at giving you that look and telling you, that you look great! Great!! that word sums it up. A woman's compliment to another speaks volumes- the compliment albeit a rare one, has more texture and depth than just GREAT! Is it the women's eye to detail that the compliments are rare, or is it the adulation of men that complimenting the women is easier for them!

Well, compliments are not recieved everyday. You want to make someone's day then give a genuine compliment. And for you all is not lost,you have yourself- to compliment! But again, you should be able to compliment honestly! As in, look in to the mirror, when you have taken care to dress up and smile …GOSh, that female in the mirror is looking pretty!! Well, in case you smile you are bound to look pretty! So, said my class teacher, all girls look beautiful with a smile on!

Now this deserves a comment if not a compliment!

Media Vehicle!

2007-11-23T14:49:00.001+05:30

Health, Beauty and Cosmetics Estée Lauder always said there were three ways to communicate: telephone, telegraph and tell a woman.

Caught a...

2007-11-23T09:58:00.000+05:30

It is in deed difficult time in Kolkata. There might be a lot of 'catching up' if you were not already aware.

There was this recent riot over Taslima Nasreen. During our discussion at office,her (in)famous Lajja caught our attention. Then there was venemous condemning of all the violence. It was terrible, the children coming home from school were caught in a difficult situation.

Things got this bad, that 'catch' no more reminded one of the good days of Indian Cricket. And well, to make the matters worse, the cold has descended in Kolkata. Being from Kathmandu, (which everyone here believes is cold through out the year) I was selected as the responsible one to 'catch' the cold. Lo! I caught it.

However, I cannot take the achiever's trophy alone. For I can hear the continous, 'surrrrr surrrrr' from behind my back. There is G, who has stepped up, shown his bravery and claims his share of fame having caught a cold himself! I wonder if all the cops in Kolkata will soon follow our footsteps!

Hmm, so the incessant 'dhrrrrr' from the office ac is now punctuated with timely 'srrr srrr'. This is not some funny sound to be laughed at. Its not rare but a prerogative of this part of the world. During my short stay in Europe, I was faced with people forcing their head out of their noses. Covering their nose with a wide 'kerchief they would go 'shoo...choo...khooo.....' (depending on their origin, French , German or Italina... and more on my translation of their nasal phonetics). They are so bereft of the rhythmic, 'srr srr', I would muse, while punctuating the silence in many public places in Swiss with my rhythmic you know what!

But this sound of music was not to last long.Not having an ac to add to the beats of the music, Linus interrupted. 'Can't you just blow in one shot rather than pulling it up again throught your nasal track while it stubbornly wants to get the hell out.And you like someone scared of losing a precious possession are there guarding strictly at the exit, and a vehement .... SURRRR each time it tries to sneak out. 'Let it go V', let it go, or rather blow it out. It is not like a past love affair that you are clinging to!

Hmm, after the rare lecture from soft spoken Linus, I changed my strategy and went anti SURRRR... though I did doubt that someday I will blow my head out through my nose!

G goes SURRR once again, reminding me of the good old days and I promptly head to the looo to blow out in one .........................!

Deepawali - a garland of lamps!

2007-11-14T10:25:00.000+05:30

A picture speaks for itself! Shot taken a day before Diwali, on the balcony of Netscribes, Kolkata.

Happy Deepawali

2007-11-08T16:21:00.000+05:30

A festival of lights!

I have seen children so eager at the mention of Deepawali (better known as Diwali). We too as children were like that. Looking forward to was so easy back then- new frocks, people visiting us, we visiting people and of course NO SCHOOL. These days it is 'Dhoni Dhamakas' (cracker named after the current Indian cricket captain), designer lamps and more.

Things changed over time as things change over time! The girls grow up from their frocks to their longer skirts, boys from their shorts to full lenght trousers but the looking forward to doesn't change much. From a festival of lights, Diwali however did become a 'cleaning spree for me'. Diwali time became synonimous with a 'clutter free' exercise, as we started to help Mom get rid of things we did not need. There were things like the house being painted, washing the curtains,etc. etc. that busied the adults of the house. We on our part removed the trophies placed on the pelmet tops and clean the surface and the accolades. Sadly those cups have been long packed up in the attic, no more in the prized display!

I do not know why but I somehow ended up enjoying the 'sorting out clutter'. I still enjoy going through things that have just been- buried under several layers in my drawers.The fun begins once you take out each thing and then before deciding which heap they should go to- The 'throw now' or 'throw later, next year perhaps ;)" or the 'can't be thrown'- you go back to the times when you had accumulated those stuff. Then comes those dilemmas one might dread. Of keeping the postcards given by friends when we were in standard V. Or those birthday cards collected over the years, or the newspaper cuttings like- Jug Surraiya's Monsoon Wedding, Dosa and Goethe (the middle piece in TOI long back, cherished till today!)... These were treasures I never went back to until Diwali. And come Diwali, they would come out popping from various drawers. I would spend the rest of my 'cleaning day' re reading articles, letters, cards. Now with the e-age. Things are so much simpler. My friends send me mails, and e-greetings! And Gosh, my inbox is cluttered! But I have no heart to give it a Diwali Spruce up.

I did end up sorting out and removing what I had not used for the past two years, and then have moved on to removing stuff I have not used in the past one year. I believe one could develop a therapy, if it did not already exist. A therapy of sorting clutter. This exercise soothes you, brings a sense of 'organized' to the unorganized mind! But I think this will be a cult therapy. As there dont seem to be many takers. My mom would oppose it outright, she has never been too happy when I take days cleaning a small room of mine! Moreover, she is a more compiling than a throwing person!

Too much of clutter, let me talk of lights now. How I love lighting 'diyas' , the small earthen lamps. And how lovely they look, jhil mil compensating for the sky bereft of the shining moon! Happy Diwali all of you!!

Bean there, Done that!

2007-11-02T11:58:00.000+05:30

Something on Coffee:

Well here is some bean for thought for coffee cravers!

Green coffee is coffee that has not been roasted.

The drink "Americano" was named after American soldiers in WW II who found the European way of drinking caffe as espresso too strong. Baristas would cut the espresso with hot water for them. (from wiki)

Which leading brand in American coffee has the tagline: 'Good to the last drop'?

You might not really hear of Nescafe in US!

(more later...)

New Post

2007-10-17T17:20:00.000+05:30

No new posts? No new recipes tried? No lovestories spun? My long time ago journo friend, even came to an extent of suggesting, Marriage...is showing AGE on you!

So, I decided, that the next time idea flits (another friend of mine suggests carefully dropping out the 'r' from 'flitting'), I should obediently open my notebook and keep jotting.

I read my friends blog, where she was babbling about, Manjushree Thapa's short story collection... Ummm., the good things in life... reading books, listening to songs that your friend introduces you to, the smell of baking cake... and getting jealous when your best friend gets another 'bosom friend'.... he he (i am kidding annie)

Hmm, its travel time again. Rajasthan is the destination. I hope to get loads of pictures and then blog them all.

Till then, shaadi girl and shaadi boy keep jumping!!

iPhone!

2007-09-27T21:46:00.000+05:30

Apple with Aplomb?

The much hyped debutant in this June, iPhone has been called, ‘game changer’, ‘magic’ and a ‘revolutionary phone’. The New York Times says, ‘The creation, the iPhone, priced at $499 or $599, will not be for everyone.’ But this creation is set to change the operating paradigm for the music and mobile industry. Like iPod changed the way we listen to portable music, is iPhone going to change the way we say ‘hello’ or is it going to create a whole new mobile web experience?

Steve Job introduced this revolutionary phone at MacWorld 2007, as an iPod, a phone and Internet communicator. ‘A product that is way smart and way easy to use.’
The buzz word has been the revolutionary user interface. With a giant screen and the best pointing device: the finger, Apple has set the shift to a paradigm of touch screen interface.

The revolution is not as much in the seamless integration as is in the simplicity of use. The ‘button less’ experience clearly announces the departure from technology oriented experience that only makes it difficult for the user to operate the phone to an amazingly pleasurable user experience. In other words, the hours of poring into the user manual to get going with one’s smart phones are going to be a matter of past with iPhone. The mobile industry will now shift to an iClone axis so that they are in same position as the iPhone, way smart and way easy.

Music and social networking will certainly see a change with an iPod and a phone together. The discussion below tries to sum up the changes that iPhone can bring in the music and mobile industry.

Changes in Mobile music Industry:
Mobile phones already are equipped with music player. However they are all lacking what a music listener needs. Be it a constraint like storage capacity (64 MB – 128 MB are standard flash card memory) or overpriced songs. No wonder phone users use their phone to listen to music. Today they use iPod.

Changes in mobile industry

User Interface (UI)
Like we have transcended from command line to icon based user interface in PC computing, mobile UI will shift from the ‘button - key’ interface to touch interface. This will change the high tech mobiles into a handy gadget.

Better Software
Jobs pointed out in his key notes, buttons and controls can’t change. But now we are equipped with a UI that gives immense room for improvisation of gadgets in few clicks (or rather finger taps). It might be as simple as a downloadable ‘update’ in the phone that can access the Internet. With iPhone 5 years ahead of any phone, we will see a spur of phones with better software.

Visual appeal
More over, with the slick design of the iPhone, we have stepped onto a generation of truly good looking phones. Handsets will not just deliver functional requirements. They will strive to fulfill the emotional desire of the users.

Simple and precise mobile services
Visual non linear voice mail : iPhone does away with listening to voice mail linearly, one can now jump to the important voice mails without going through a myriad of other voice mails.

Content Industry in Mobile
Mobile advertising will become more aggressive thanks to giant sized pocketable screens, which will give a bigger platform for the viewable information. We might also see a departure from the expensive ring tones to music tracks downloaded through iTune.

Apple’s Strategy
iPod to iPhone ?
In a way iPhone might be all poised to cannibalize its own sibling before the competition does. With your phone and your iPod (both integral to users today) together, you are carrying one device less with you and you will listen to music on your phone.

Apple must be looking at pocketable computing power, social communication network and music all in one in the future. There may be another leapfrog from iPhone to a more futuristic yet simple device.

References
http://www.webdirections.org/2007/06/11/iphonesafari-is-the-mosaic-of-the-mobile-web/
http://www.apple.com/quicktime/qtv/mwsf07/
http://www.infosyncworld.com/news/n/7407.html

http://gigaom.com/2007/06/29/iphone-music/

Farewell, is it?

2007-09-20T08:43:00.000+05:30

Home Sweet Home
Last night before saying good night to mommy, I knew I would miss home. I wanted to cry and ask her if I could stay with her. I was so much at home again. It was okay even if my brother had sabotaged my room. That I did not have my personal phone and pc. I did not want those flashy rings, that slick cam, or anything. I wanted to be home, with mom and dad.

It is hard to leave the place where you have grown up!

Friends my treasure

Yesterday, I was with Annie the entire evening. Shopping for her wedding.The two of us were shopping again like we used to. The one difference, and probably one BIG, we were both into jewellery now. She tried various gold bangles on her delicate wrist. I suggested a this and a that. We looked throught the array of gold rings and then diamonds, 'girl's best friend', they twinkled .

But my treasure and my friend, is not a diamond that have been mined from the bloody mines of South Africa, but this diamond who is soon going to be married to a buddy of mine (oh oh).

work work and no work

A buddy suggested I get into writing a book. Annie suggested dropping CVs at Banks, as a management trainee.

I cringe when I have to fill the occupation field in various forms. 'House wife", 'freelancer' or others, these are the options I am stuck with. Freelancer is an achievment through my exteneded imagination :)

Kathmandu
Kathmandu, you and your dirty streets. The bomb explosions, the shortage of petrol... the crazy gallies (alleys)... I will miss you!

Poorani Jeans aur...

2007-09-12T12:53:00.000+05:30

Nostalgia, is it?

Last night I was driving my same old car. After more than a year, driving 4842 had been slightly difficult. But last night I was driving alone . It brought back memories. Memories of those old days, driving home in the evening. Almost dark. Driving alone. Yet not so alone. I remember so well talking to myself or was it talking to someone else. There was a someone who used to occupy my solitude. My thoughts of a faraway lover, an invisible beloved. Who was not there, yet was there. 'So much in love with the idea of love', my friend would tease me. I even had a poster which read, I am already fallen in love and now I am waiting for some one to fall in love with me. It was cute poster, showing a teddy fallen in a nicely lit well.

One fine day the invisible beloved would become visible. 'And he will do pattar pattar (prattle) in Hindi sitting next to you', Annie would comment as our gang would sipping coffee in one of the cafes in town. We would slyly exchange that knowing smile. I couldn't share my fantasy of an invisible lover to all, could I?

Such is youth. Love fills your heart to the brim . My ride last night revived those crazy old days, and I realized I have become wiser, (should you read OLDER!).

This is an aimless post, let me link it to Milan's jumbled love poemto make some sense out of nonsense!

Of Morning Walks

2007-08-24T14:37:00.000+05:30

Random thoughts

He tells me, Kolkata's biggest business is food business, during our 15 minutes jog. The beautiful monument, Victoria Memorial, bathed in the early sunlight gives me a sense of gazing at Taj mahal. I quicken my pace and my steps fall along with his. 'Why?' I enquire. And he smiles as he looks ahead.

My recent stint to morning walk cum jog has made me observe certain things. And while jogging I wonder if there is going to be a next Chetan Bhagat style book on Victoria Memorial in the morning. I mean it is amazing: the fresh air, the greenery, so many people, some laughter club ( an 'attahas' (Hindi word, Sanskrit origin, would be more apt rather than calling it laughter), yogas, Ramdev Babas tummy in tummy out...(kapalbhaanti, i remember), men and women of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, in different attire.

I tell him, it is such a melting pot :
half pants,
full pants..
he adds and dhotis too!

While the women are dressed in sarees with running shoes, salwar kameez, track pants.

Of the variety of size, kyaa kehna. He justifies why food business is such a rage here. People don't think twice, they eat while they are thinking. And guilt about food is something to ponder later and of course an incentive to start on morning walks.

I know this post isn't as interesting as my daily visit to the garden is. The in between statues of different men who were conferred Knighthood during the English Regime, the stray dogs, few ducks, the sparkling water in the pond, the lover duos scattered here and there, the lined cars, the Rs 4 blue ticket, the pigeons, the horses outside the gate, men playing volleyball across the garden.

It is a stimulating scene. It is like a start of the day. So much of acitivity. And sweat, I realise this as I pat my face dry with my towel during my run.

In search of truth

2007-08-23T12:39:00.000+05:30

In search of truth :

There it lies,
naked and bare
for the fear of profanity
they merely call it unclothed.

There it lies,
bitter and distasteful
for the fear of truth
they call it news!

The devil and the poet

2007-08-19T11:02:00.000+05:30

The Devil and I

I see the devil lurking
I see it eye me
I ignore it
I close my eyes

The devil gets near
I feel my throat choke
I have no option but to fight
Yet, I prepare no defense

I must be convinced
That I want to live
That I deserve to be happy
That I can't let this devil grip me

I am lucky
That I am not in its clutches
That I am still free and thinking
That I might want to defeat this devil...

Tring Tring

2007-08-07T15:42:00.000+05:30

I called up an old friend today. Just like that. Or to say a quick hi. To ask when is the wedding and more. Hmm, given the number of questions I shot, the other fellow must have thought of me as an aspiring Derek O Brien. I on the other hand thought of myself in less endearing position, of a businessperson doing 'takada' (getting a brief or report)!

Well, let me not get into the Business World (of which I know a wee bit), but lets get into the social circle that I am comfortable with. Like talking to an old friend, or writing a long mail. These days, I realize I do not like to write long mails. No wonder I am still to write to Zanie's 'kyaa haal hey' (how you doing?) mail. My mails have never been too short or concise. But these days they are. One of the most important reason is I have to write something exciting, something you will read and at least smile, a little humor infused here and there, some news that will make you jump etc etc. Etcetra etcetra (is the spelling correct!!)

So, I was hoping to apply for jobs to few places, so that there will something I can write about. What's there to write about having watched, the replica of Hitch, 'Partner' or Cash ... hmm.. I wonder why but I like watching commercials better these days. Is it the short span of attention that I am bestowed with which is in tandem with the commercials or is it the quirky tune of, 'jo khaya to mania hoi gava' of Maggi fame.

Okay, I can write about a book that I am reading. "It happened in India". Well there are more books piled up. Time on my hand. Hmm.. 'time on my hand' that reminds me of a sound track ...'i got time on my hand, you on my mind and nothing to lose'. Hmm... there was some song playing in the caller tune when I had dialled this friend of mine this morning. Sorry, can't remember that.

Okay, so this post was supposed to be about phone calls we make. I thought like short mails, I am more into short conversations. Yet I talk at lengths, though I now appreciate shorter conversations. Its basically, lets get to the point. In spite of this mind set, like today, for no reasons, I pick up the phone and dial. Hmm interesting... sometimes we can get out of this ' no nonsense mode' to the normal 'wierd mode'. What a paradox?

When was it that you called up an old friend just like that. To update each other. To laugh over the days together.

How we will all get busy. Some times busy doing nothing (and merely blogging as JB would point out, in case he is reading my blogs still).

Now though friendship day is over...here is a message to a friend of mine:
'Toast to the days of 4842, and take heart I have progressed to enjoying the humor of Saki!'
(will I be gifted some good book when I see you this time??? ;) :P)

Ok, Taureans are materialistic. I agree. Who won't if you are at the recieving end, albeit when the end is followed by gifts :)

More later...

till then,
:-) keep that jump in your voice alive!!

Flower

2007-08-01T15:54:00.000+05:30

Poetry again folks. Well don't blame me, it's your 'wah wahs' that has led me to try my hand at it once more.

Flower

I hold you in my hand
You silently behold me
I accuse you of your beauty, of your innocence of your silence
You smile, you hide your pain and wilt a little

I notice in a little while
That perhaps I have not loved you enough
So I cause you such agony
In such thoughts I embrace you fiercly

You still do not speak
But the your teary dews wet my cheek
Oh! Flower tell me, ifyour delicate heart bleeds
Whilst I press you on to my bossom?

Candle

2007-07-13T10:01:00.000+05:30

Poetry for a change! Wish I knew some Urdu, to pen few stray thoughts that come in idle hours. Do leave your wah wah any case!

Candle
I try and build a huge wall
To keep the winds away
Lest they touch my soul
And the flame will dance and sway

When in the confines of such solitude
Who am I to blame
When it is my own breath
That flickers the flame

Knowledge Versus Wisdom

2007-07-03T21:56:00.000+05:30

'Why is it called wisdom tooth?', I writhed in pain. Linus must have sighed some deep breath of relief without letting me know. Well, I have not been talking much, if you should know. No, not that I am becoming wiser to consider if speech is silver, silence is golden. Silence in fact is a ulcer in the gum thanks to the mis positioned wisdom tooth!

Hmm, silence does give one some space to contemplate. In a slight meditative posture: back straight and eyes closed, I muse, isn't there a knowledge tooth in the offing. I merely smile at my wise self and scorn off the thoughts of knowledge tooth, tongue or toe nail! (in precisely same order).

I browse through wiki to see what it says on wisdom:

Wisdom, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, is defined as the "1 a: Accumulated philosophic or scientific learning-knowledge; b: Ability to discern inner qualities and relationships-insight; c: Good sense-judgment d: Generally accepted belief . 2: A wise attitude, belief, or course of action. 3: The teachings of the ancient wise men"[1].

(source :http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wisdom)

Hmm, quite a heavy definition! It includes knowledge in its definition. Well, well well, lest I deviate my wisdom tooth gently grazes my smooth red gums and I become wiser. I recall my visits to the dentist. The clean clinic, the white apron, the light over my mouth, the hand in glove and PAIN. Argh, I recall with regret the advise of the doc, we might need to extract the WISDOM tooth, if it stays stubborn and continues to bully the gum.

Now, my dear wisdom tooth, can I ask you to exercise some wisdom and just live and let live, lest you want me to be purely knowledgeable and bereft of wisdom albeit wisdom tooth!

Reliance Web World

2007-06-25T11:07:00.000+05:30

I am in Reliance web world. I wonder if it should evoke few memories. Memories like talking to people from home who would be chatting in the air conditioned comfort of RBB. Well, it evokes one long lost marketer's feeling, who ever said a product without an experience with it can work in today's market! Well, you might not know I just am back from Central Bank. The sight of the bank and the officials make me wonder that such an institution is also running. We have come to the age of net banking (though most of us are still jogging our memories to remember THE PASSWORD).

Passbooks to passwords!

Well, sitting at the other end, or rather with the tables turned, as I experience the web surfing experience of RBB, I have nothing much to complain except this 'hard to push down' keyboard. ANd yes though I may still blush at the thought of writing a love mail or chatting with a special one from such a public domain, I see such an immense market for teen hangouts in the virtual world. Of course it has been tapped. To make things better there is webcam at help, to give e-dates a touch of life, with shared cakes and coffees (images only!) along with glowing smiles.

Well, this much for now. I am irked at the keyboard, but I am open to writing!!! Hmm well this makes me write you a closing note too. Writing does need an environment. I miss the desk back home in Kathmandu, I miss that chair, and that mirror hanging opposite to my working area. Now I realize I have my mirror opposite to my desk exactly the same way here in Kolkata too. So do I SEE ideas flowing!!!

Irrelevant details from life

2007-06-08T15:14:00.000+05:30

'Bonjour', said the man behind the huge flat pan as he saw me meditating over his crepes. I was almost enchanted at the way he circled out a thin crepe over the huge pan. The crepe of the same diameter as that of the pan, which was three times the normal dosas I have seen back home. I had been looking intently at how he poured the batter, flattened the batter into a nice circle with the help of a flat wooden rod with a stick in its centre. Moving that equipment, clockwise first and anticlockwise next. Then flipping the crepe up, sprinkling sugar and caramel and folding it neatly like a thin handkerchief or a napkin.

I looked up completely startled by his 'Bonjour' and was more puzzled to see his enquiring eyes. Ah! I just smiled dumbly and walked away. Linus had a good laugh. He said I was staring so hard, it had probably unnerved the fella. All I could explain to him - it was such a lovely sight. He said, you must be hungry. And we headed to Mc. D.

There is little choice for food for vegetarians. Even the cheese is not really vegetarian. It has something from the calf's stomach. When I had enquired for a vegetarian cheese, I recieved a puzzled and amazed look. Fromage (cheese in French), it is Fromage! Period. Can cheese be non vegetarian!!

Well, a vegetarian by birth, I often wonder why people are non vegetarian. And people, my friends tell me, 'what possibly can you eat! just grass and flowers!' 'Is it because of religion', J had enquired during a dinner hosted by us. No, it just runs into our family. And what if your children want to eat, Mc Chicken! Hmm, I smile and imagine a dozen brats, eating Mc. Chicken. I can only tell them to brush their teeth, I tell J. He smiles, oh just brush the teeth. That sounds reasonable.

Children, ah! I must be quite old by now, to even comprehend the thought that 'kid' can be someone else other than me. Hmm, children, what strange creatures they are. Half your size and they make you run around like crazy. The other day, a little girl about 5 had come to my apartment with her mother. I had to divide my attention while talking to the mother and rushing in between to save my laptop on which she was pounding her hands madly and rescue the remote which she hurled in air while in an excited stupor of having discovered 'tom and jerry channel'.

Sometimes I think children have this perfect world of freedom. Unadulterated by thougths of shame, or concept of nudity. I have read that one of the most common dreams that people have is, where they find themselves in company without an appropriate attire. While that little girl feels absolutely nothing as she runs around with her bare bottom.

While I look for freedom of expressions among women wearing what they want, mini skirts and halter necks, or random muses posted in internet, I see those naughty pair of eyes looking back at me with a quizzical look. Mocking at me, saying FREEDOM COMES From a wild spirit!! Perhaps I am imagining those eyes quizzing me. She just must be wondering when will I give her the chocolate that she has earned after having recited all the rhymes and telling me her name, father's name and all telephone numbers at her momma's prodding. 'Smart girl naa', the momma shining with pride exclaims.

I wonder if having a child would make it a different world for a woman. 'Having kids is a full time job', the exasperated mom had exclaimed while I was glowering at the little one for behaving like THIS. At her statement I just wondered, it must mean: No more afternoons filled with silence or just the noises from the street. No more the loneliness punctuated by the incessant chirps of sparrows or staring at the arch of a gate of a villa just by the lake. And looking at the water through that arch.

Proabably I could just have a Siamese Cat, and name it Kathmandu. It would be a less than full time job, I smile at myself.

A cat or a baby... oh both are such a chore. But a baby will grow up. And if I believe what A had said, will cease to be a family. A is an English lady. The cat (she had a Siamese cat called Kathmandu), will be hard to handle. If you are traveling or working, you can't leave them alone for long. They get anxiety or bouts of loneliness and feel sick.

I should be feeling like Kathmandu sometime. I must investigate if I have those bouts of loneliness. Or perhaps, it must be different, some other poetic melancholy, that is essential to churn out a good post!

Blogging again

2007-06-06T13:26:00.000+05:30

I managed to get an access to internet, somehow. Neighbours, especially Indian neighbours in a foreign land are a great boon. My next door friend leaves me her apartment's keys so that I can sneak in anytime and check mails or post blogs!

Last night we had a wonderful time with an English couple. It was a rainy evening, and a little colder than usual. But that did not deter our spirits. We went to the restaurant by the lake. We sat inside since it was raining, but from the glass panes I could feel the lake right there. Facing the lake and the setting sun, it seemed beautiful. How location can be such an important factor. It is one of the Ps in the marketing product mix, when it comes to service industry. Where you are determines what you are!

Hmm, it was an indulgence at the end. The tiramisu. 'Sinful' I exclaimed. Imagine all that calories..or rather Kilo cals!! But it tasted heavenly.

For a change no one was talking work. It was nice evening. And we walked back home. It was then A had remarked, 'how far we have come, it seems rather quick since we have been talking.' We had actually almost reached their hotel and in what seemed no time. P quipped, ' ah, so your life must have sped by.' What a terrific sense of wit! I smiled, amused.

It is rare to have such a nice time socializing. I wonder if it is because I have lost my socializing skills or is it that I need to have that rapport to be comfortable. Oh yes, I still can turn stoic and quiet in companies that I am some how uncomfortable for no known reasons. I think this is quite common or rather human or may be universal. One must feel at home... Be it a Siamese cat called Kathmandu or a dog called Mutt in Kiran Desai's Inheritance of loss.

See, how I shift gears from evening to food to pets. I have never had a pet. I do not think I would ever have one. But the most amusing pet I have seen, was a mouse. My friend had actually 2 mice. Ying and Yang. I wonder how she knew one from the other. But a bad cat ate Ying or was it Yang. And later the survivor died an unceromonious death. Less heroic than being chased by the cat.

Ugh! I did not want to fill in the details of the rat race err...rat chase. But of the instance when both the rat and I had jumped out of our wits, in an encounter deliberately planned to introduce two loved ones to one another. I am sorry if calling Ying/Yang a rat is derogatory.

Someone once asked me if I miss home. I wonder which home. The one I left when I got married, or the one I left when I came to Swiss. The home before marriage, for me has been frozen in time, exactly the day I left it in February, a year ago. I had carefully packed away my precious belongings. Given away sea shells to a cousin to keep them as lovingly as I had. The shells I had collected from Hongkong's beaches. Tucked away my diaries. Threw pieces of papers with stupid poetries I had written, one was I remember 'Mr. Tea'. I can smile at the thought of it! I donated clothes I would not need again. Returned books that I had borrowed. GOt back my books that friends still had. Emptied my wardrobe, so that someone else would have space when I wasn't there.

WHen I go back to that home, will I start from that point of time! THe time, the moment froze just for me, every one else will have moved. Friends to jobs, to marriages, to new love stories. I will not know how to fit myself again in that room. To stare out of the window and look at those neatly growing flowers in a row. Or turn on the PC and listen to Pink Floyd. And may be quarrel with mom over why I am late again!

There will be nothing of that sort. That life has disappeared. A part of me has gone. How I resist change. Or do I? To go back and stare at myself in the mirror...The same mirror and a different reflection. It is so weird that some changes are so sudden or are they really. Perhaps the realization of the change is sudden.

I am confused about my identity suddenly. Or rather I do not fit in that frozen image of me. That image is confused that there is no more of those , bland samosas of Ram dai in college canteen, or bickering about Rituz boutique or coffees and scrabbles in bakery cafe, or proffs I would have liked to hate. Everything is replaced, by a code or a decorum. Is it just my resistance to grow up?

Some one said so aptly, when u are in school you want to get in college, when you are in college you want to get into a job..and when you get into one... you miss your school....you miss your college.

Well, I think this is enough for today. And perhaps I should make this blog a personal blog seeing how much I ramble... with just few selected friends to share their thoughts on my weird thoughts.... argh...wotever....

Away

2007-06-03T17:32:00.000+05:30

Folks!

I know some of you there are reading me. So I am talking to you. Well, the most essential of all, the internet connection, the life line... is at hold. Meaning I have no access to internet from home. That is...the 24 hour obsessed with net VID is now getting to her neighbor to check her occasional mail..

THis is because I am shifting back to my India home. So, until I get there, you know I am just trying to get unhooked. Trying relaxation techniques to do away with the net addict in me. And well no more of my boring blog posts for a while.

So I Will see you guys in midweek of June...

Till then,
keep reading and keep fit!
Jump may be!!

Vid

Face lifting!!

2007-05-29T12:16:00.000+05:30

Hmm, Jo Bhi tells me my blog needs face lifting. Well a writer isn't a writer if she cannot take a critique without a pinch of salt...err is it sugar JB?

Now that JB has been featured in my blog, I am sure he has already thanked lady luck et al, I should respond to the face lift!

Once-upon-a-time (it was how I was tempted to start today's rambling, however..) I had had good thoughts on weight lifting. Those cushioned dumb bells for the females in form. Argh.. had it not been for the feministic flame in me, I would have probably goaded MOM into buying me those dainty things. But as I was, I did attempt some lifting of what was left of my uncle's not so once-upon-a-time gymming equipments. Now since I did not fracture even the tiniest bone of the little finger, it isn't worthy enough to be mentioned here (JB take cue, you have been featured and bestowed an honour you barely deserve or rather rarely deserve!!!)

Ok, so that was about the weights in the lifting. Next to that was my obsession for lifts themselves... I mean elevators. Brought up in a country where people still believe we ride bullock carts, elevators are hard to imagine. No wonder during my trips to Indian metros, we would devise games to get out of the tiny apartments and take lifts in the lift! The liftman would let the kids in vacation a few trips up and down!!

This is not really touching any nerve at all, this meaning my ramble. It ain't so far humorous nor the emotional bit that perhaps VID has the penchant for (ahem ahem). Very well to raise the sagging spirits, there must be a lift... So I lift a passage or rather an excerpt from what one reader had to say some time back..

**************************************************
i occassionally visit your blog to read it! it is interesting! the loss of form (and all else) is visible, but its very interesting... i'd rather suggest you should write... i wish you come back to form... ofcourse if you wish to, and if you are still passionate about it... you are just lovely in your writings...:D ok ok... otherwise too, i'm sure...

****************************************************

Now I hope that works super. Makes this post nice...with a 'hat ke' flavor. And perhaps answers few idiots who dared to tattle 'if Reena's ramble (wish I were taller and prettier, see The empty pram) were a candid confession.

So, yes a little up lifting would not do harm to this lovely writer. Now for a change why don't you readers do your bit. And throw in your bouquets!! in words.

Comments won't hurt, neither you...nor me (ouch!!)

The empty pram

2007-05-22T13:16:00.000+05:30

She hugged him at the airport. He had walked up to her smiling. For a second both of them waited in a clumsy silence and then she threw her arms around him and hugged him.

Reena woke up from her dream with a smile. She checked her mobile to get the time. It was already past eleven and there was still no sign of Yatharth. She got up and dialled his number thinking perhaps he had got down the plane by now. Yatharth picked up and said, 'I am getting into the cab, I will be home.'

Home! Reena looked around the empty house. Was this home, she wondered as she observed her own shadow in dim light. She dismissed such depressing thoughts. She had work to do, heat dinner in microwave, lay down the table and yes re do her hair.

While doing her hair she looked into the mirror. She was not very tall, but standing at 158cm, she looked quite short to the six footer frame of Yatharth. She wished she were taller and prettier. When keeping back the comb in the drawer her fingers rubbed against a shiny cylindrical metal. It was a lipstick case. Someone had made it for her. It was one remebrance that she had allowed herself to carry over from her college days. She opened the case and took the lipstick out. She looked back at her pout in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction.

Just then the bell rang. She hurried to the door. Yatharth stood there a little tired. He bent down to kiss her freshly painted lips. 'Oh, but I have smudged you, Reena squealed like a child. Suddenly the dimly lit house had transformed into warm and bright home.

They sat down for dinner. Reena kept twittering about who all had called while he was away, about her friends who had volunteered to stay with her if she felt frightened to be home alone at night, and that she had been good and had not skipped lunch too many times!

Yatharth smiled, he took his wife in his arms and took her to bed. You must sleep, you look tired he said. Had he noticed something, Reena's heart beat quickened. She had not yet told him about her secret, about their secret. But he was already tucking her in bed. Office time tomorrow honey, he said and switched off the light.

Next morning, Reena woke up with a start. She fixed Yatharth's breakfast and tiffin as usual. She was just a bit preoccupied. Yatharth was in a morning rush to notice it perhaps. Was it just ordinary or did it signify something Reena wondered later in the bathtub. She had seen an empty pram in her dream.

Travel time!

2007-05-18T01:39:00.000+05:30

My cousin has come over for 2 weeks to ~~stay with us~~ travel Suisse. My aunt had warned me I would have to stay full time in Kitchen as the kid comes famished from the US of A. Apart from the daily doses of his engineering and economics lessons he has survived on coke and chips. However the kid seems to have developed an appetite of traveling than eating! Hmm, so you can imagine we have been up and running! And of course the burner in the kitchen has so far obliged to churn out some goodies for our survival.

Well, after a long day today- traveling through Glaciers, literally amid snow fall, I sit down to reflect. What comes immediately to my mind are the few expressions we used during our travel, while marvelling at the lovely landscape"

* The trees look like soldiers clad in white fur
* The top of the churches on the ways reminded me of the 'sorting hat' of Harry Potter's fame
* The rhine gorge and rafting had us defining a river, a lake and a gorge. Linus remarked he had learnt and forgotton all. The scene however will never be forgotton I mused.
*We all wait for the sun together, the attendent in the Glacier Express remarked when few travellers commented on the cloudy day!
*I can't open my eyes: it is just too white.... we all said in chorus when the train emerged from a tunnel and snaked through land clad in shimmering white snow everywhere, on trees, on mounts and house tops!

Well let me sum up by just another few words:

dream like
the red toy train
a lesson in Geography
a returnable trip from heaven (this one from my cousin at his wittiest best!)

Few beautiful words

2007-05-16T21:39:00.000+05:30

Sparkle
Twinkle
Smile
Home
Mommy
Sweetie
Wonderful
Lovely
Babies
Mirror
Nostalgia
Dreamy eyes
Coy

Oscar Wilde's Quote

2007-05-10T21:31:00.000+05:30

Oscar Wilde said: "Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood."

Hmm, I stumbled on this quote today and then I had to have it on my blog. Oscar Wilde's quotes have a WOW factor! Well, had I still been in those mushy teen years, I would have by now turned on Bryan Adams and taken a flight in dreams to meet the Mr. Dream. But heck, I have grown up!

Sometimes I miss the teenage relapse that occurs until the bulb lights up!! 'Teenage relapse' thats some phrase with some WOW factor perhaps. I am not sure but I think this is an original phrase. I do not know if I copied it from someone. But I know I have used it so many times now... Like when I just crossed 19 (or should I say had turned 20 ;) ) and then the years since then, a sudden craving for bungee jumping, or refusing to obey parental curfews, or refusing to acknowledge the parental lectures, or lets face it a huge crush, I collectively termed them 'teenage relapse'.

I roll in my tongue to check if my wisdom tooth has actually surfaced and smile. Was it all really teenage relapse or was it a woman growing up? I am still wondering. Hmm, some men are intelligent. I found one intelligent guy, he exactly does as Wilde suggests. No effort to understand. None at all. You know what he does!

However, not all men are intelligent. I mean they might be seemingly but they still need to read what Wilde says!

:)

Well, you might choose to disagree. But I know even that will not make you drop a comment in here. Hmm, so my dear readers, just for the heck of it or rather for Wilde do jot in your thoughts 'aise hee'.

Idle thoughts in an idle hour

2007-05-08T16:51:00.000+05:30

I have been too busy poring into the screen of my laptop. I get up tidy the house a bit. It is strange to think now, that I am saying tidy the 'house'. Strange because tidy had always followed my room. Hmm, now I have a house! Well, lest I digress let me continute to what my sight met. Clean clothes hanging on a line in the basement. I collect them and bring them up. I fold them into neat stacks and arrange them in the wardrobe. Then I switch the tv on, there is a tennis match going on. I pay little attention to it. Suddenly I look out and I freeze the scene in my memory. A moment later I get my cam and click. The clouds by now have engulfed the top of the mounts in their thick white blanket.

There is so much that nature has given. And so much that man has accomplished. The background sound of birds chirping interspersed with the sound coming from speeding automobiles, is one such combi of nature with man! I look out at the green mounts, the lake in a distance and wonder , poets must have come from this place.

In such an idle hour I try to pen something:

The white blanket of clouds
The white ducks paddling in the lake
The white lillies tucked on the pathway
I wonder how this color holds the rainbow in itself!

Mr. and Mrs Iyer

2007-04-27T15:57:00.000+05:30

Of what we come across -Few things, few people, few books, few movies, few songs, few scenes become imprinted in mind.

Mr and Mrs Iyer is one such movie. Konkona Sensharma has acted marvelously. Superbly!

While watching the movie, I was most moved when the old couple were forced out of the bus. The old Muslim couple. Later through Raja's eyes as I saw the dentures fallen out of their broken case, the old man's glasses...And when Raja is typing on his computer about the dentures in its hedious grin, I feel a repulsion that I cannot explain.

For a second why the hell do we follow any religion at all. I suddenly go back to my teenage days when I used to start my diary entries with 'Dear God'. The word GOD strikes me oddly. Then I wonder what was the need for that old man in the movie to read his Kuran on the bus or, what is my need that I hang a picture of Lord Ganesha in my kitchen, why do we believe at all? If there is an Almighty after all... wouldn't s/he be affected by the killings in the name of religion...

They tell me, God is a concept which has been passed on to us by wise men so that our lives are hinged to a solid core. They tell me religion was developed so that civilized societies will have a face, an identity, a belief system that they could hold on to, belong to.

I had wondered as a child when I used to read about Hindu Muslim riots. I had even written a poem titled religion when I was 13. Now it does not affect me at all. I do not care. I turn a deaf ear to all those headlines screaming from newspapers or internet sites. Whether it was the killing in Virginia Tech or it was like a movie I watched, it remains a news. It is no more personal, like it was when I was a child.

Yet, if I could have my way, I would not belong to any religion. So, I say....so I say.... but this rebel in me disappears when someone in family falls sick. Or on small ocassions, like when I am cooking for guests, I take Ganesha's name so that the food will be good. Not only I have gone to God in times of trouble and asked for his help. I have considered it my right to accuse him when I am in trouble and to demand of him to make everything fine. He has so far complied. And when I am fine I say he is just a concept.

We need God, even if he might be a concept. Our life in this planet perhaps is not mere chance in the universe or possibly it is.

When I understand this... I who am an average human being. I fail to believe that so many of us will not understand that we are all human beings. I wonder why there is so much of man killing man at all. Why cannot we all be good, when our parents have taught us to be good.

It might seem that from the safety of my house I can rave and rant on a full stomach, but the designs of terror has not come out of poverty has it? It stems for greed of power. Power to destroy?

I remain speechless. I remain... And I hardly get affected, I hope!

Yatharth comes home

2007-04-26T12:16:00.000+05:30

It is amazing how a single day can sometime stretch into innumerable days, Reena sighed. Yatharth was coming home today. Two flight changes and then a train back home, it would be late, he had told her. She had smiled and told him she would wait.

After weeks, there would be a proper dinner , she thought and busied herself deciding the menu. Besan kee roti like Amma made was Yatharth's favorite. She would crumble the roti with her hand and add ghee then mix it with curry and yogurt and then give it to Yatharth. This was exactly how she had seen Amma serve roti to all of them. Papa would top it with lot of onions and Amma would make a face, now you will have onion on your breath whole day. Reena shook herself out of the reverie. It was easy to take a journey back into the past when one had so much of time in hand. Time that she needed to kill!

She dragged herself from early morning till the afternoon. Switching the tv on and then switching it off. Listening to Pink Floyd and then turning to Bryan Adams. She had never missed home like she did today. From a fiery, hyperactive Reena she had mellowed down to a soft spoken and gentle Reena. Perhaps that was the outcome of keeping quiet for days.

Reena was still living her life in the hulla baloo of Kolkata. She had yet to immigrate in totality to this foreign land of lakeside and hills. Switzerland the dream destination was still dream like and not reality. Her mind still wandered to the puchka wallahs and moori wallahs back home. The building where she had lived with her parents had several people living in them. In their 7 storyed building here, Reena thought it was only she who had an apartment. She never saw a soul wandering in the corridor. THe doors were all shut, and she had to resist the urge to ring the door bell of the apartment opposite to her. Dropping in for a chat, to get to know your neighbors , was probably not acceptable here, this Reena had realized early on.

Then she had taken to herself. Her life centered about Yatharth when he was home. ANd when he wasn't her life was thrown off the orbit. It was true she tried hard to discipline herself. She kept her house clean and cooked good dinner. But if Yatharth was not coming home, she did not care to make the bed, cooked once a day, ate leftovers withour reheating them, had cereals for breakfast, lunch and even dinner.

But life had changed had it not. She had found a new path to orbit. Swapnil had tiptoed with too much of hope. Hope for days filled with storytimes, talk times, feeding the baby. She was so thrilled these days that she cooked meals in time. Ate a hearty breakfast and gave up coffee for milk.

She looked at the watch, it was just lunch time. Solitary luncheon, she murmured. But they will all be together in dinner time she told Swapnil, when she retired after lunch for a little nap.

In her dreams, she saw Yatharth smiling on the door. She saw Amma holding Swapnil...

Sipping Coffee

2007-04-19T19:39:00.000+05:30

Coffee has always elevated my mood. Don't know why, really. But today seems a rather nice day. It is sunny outside and cool indoors. With love songs in the back ground, a hot cup of coffee and some lemon rice, I wonder what else did I want from life. Yes, I feel a tinge of jealousy when I see friends talking of office work and bosses and even Linus rushing off to office. But then I see what I have got to myself. A whole day to pamper myself. I wonder why I really don't do that. I skip lunch frequently just because I will have to cook for me. Hmm, the good thing is I can laze around in a pair of shorts without MOM getting on my neck with 2 things, make yourself useful- your room is a mess, if it isn't then some other room is...do a favor go help me it will be Diwali time soon and weekends at home are rare...go on a bit of cleaning spree. If I comply without complaining, she will tell me next.. first get dressed while looking skeptically at my bermudas which fall just an inch short to my knees.

Hmm..how much I miss mom, when I go back to sleep after Linus is off to office. Yes, I do not fall asleep but just wait for mom's ... lazybone get up.... I miss it soo much.. :) All moms have to be great. Mine is. And all kids must love their moms like crazy... Despite all things that kids need to put up with mom type of people... you know eat right...and come home in time... and on and on and on...

Well, well, well...how much I miss being a kid. My birthday is coming again. Yeah, my friends would remember after I remind them... with it is in april isnt it...and this conversation will be in late may or june or hell july...

Just for the heck... 22nd of April is the date...

And and and, just because I am soo happy with the Gung Ho song playing in the background and the Nescafe... let me tell you .. i am gonna be in Locarno-Lugano for birthday.. So glad to have bday on a weekend... :P

Hmm, this post almost is coming close to an email of sorts... argh, may be I dont mail people so much these days that I have decided broadcasting! well, blogging in a friendly world can't be that bad. And when this mood to keep your slender fingers busy on the keyboard comes one must give in. Ah, again I miss mom , the way she looks with awe at only one thing i can do better than her...type at an astronomical speed... (the speed is astronomical in relation with hers :D)

So so so.. I should stop, and go out ... its a fine day... And I am smiling to myself. Good music, good coffee and a bright day, few things in life just so simple yet so much of pleasure..

Hmmm, by the way before I stop writing, let me tell you about this brain wave that came last night.. I had started this blog just as an outlet of expression. And well somewhere I thought I could see myself...the brand called me. So, now what I think is people who visit my website and do not really know me, they must have some kind of image about this brand..VID... you might feel free to put down what you think this brand is like...I might actually give a next post on brand identity.. something from our brand management class if it sounds interesting..

And if someone wants me to sketch a brand profile for them.. You could leave your page URL and I could go hang around and give a feed back!

What say you.. enough for today!

cheers

:)

While blog hunting

2007-04-18T22:37:00.000+05:30

My time pass these days is extensive blog hopping. I hunt and I hop! Yesterday I found this wonderful advertisement blog, http://creativeads.blogspot.com

They talk about brands and I simply love talking about brands. They have this interesting thing they call ' ad trivia' where they ask you to identify the brand they are talking about. Yesterday I identified the brand and did it correctly and among the many correct answers I was picked the lucky winner.

It made my day today, when my friend visited that page, saw my name and then mailed me about it! Hmm, just like that I thought I would tell you all about it. YOu can see it here

:)

Meanwhile... (not the continuation of story)

2007-04-14T02:01:00.000+05:30

It is gentle breeze, that takes adrift my heart. Outside under the starlit sky, I pull a chair and stare at far away lights. Like someone once told me, this is that time, when I fly beyond the mounts flickering with lights, beyond the lake which ruffles with few strong waves, I fly beyond myself.

It is strange that I should take this flight. Where do I reach. To you, who do not exist. Why did I ever conjure you, ever thought you could by chance be alive, be true? I wonder if you were, what would you be, how would you look like.

The stillness of night, punctuated by the sounds of cars racing in periodic interval has cast its silence on me. The prattle dies, the eyes do not blink and I continue to stare at the lamp post in the foyeur.

I learn, not to complain, not to worry that I am here without you. I learn I am destined to wait. Not because you will not come. But because this is how it is to be. This is how we can be together, this is how we can belong, this is how we connect.

Now, for the sake of you, do I tell the world who you are. Or like you want, I return to my world without any crease on my forehead..

I will try to find whats 'within' some other time. Will try to understand 'self' some other time. Will reflect on 'spirit' some other time. For now I am glad I am aware, that I am.

Bang! the coconut

2007-04-10T17:43:00.000+05:30

Reena hated to call up Yatharth while he was in office. Somewhere, she had drawn a boundary between work and home. For Reena it was like, she were at office. But today she decided it was best to call him up. Yatharth would return the next week from his UK trip. And Amma's growing concern for have you been eating right, and 'coconut nahi khaya beta' had consequently filled the fridge with skimmed milk, flavored yogurts, strawberries, kiwis, oranges and a coconut.

She wondered how to break this one open. She took the wine opener and dug the needle into one of the three eyes of the nut. Hard nut to crack! But after some minutes of patience and perspiration she was successful. Coconut water sprouted, and she drained it in a glass. It was nothing like the dhaab water, that she had been raised upon back home in Calcutta (now Kolkata). But it would do and she gulped down the semi transparent liquid in one breath.

Later when she went to an Indian shop which sold, 'garam masala' and 'papad' she asked the lady behind the counter if she could break the coconut. Reena offered to come another day to collect the nut! The lady behind the counter must have considered a real nut. She came outside and hit the coconut on a pole. Bang! and it broke into two. Reena was happy like a child. Even bought some masalas she did not need. With her bag filled with basmati rice, toor daal, sambhar masala and dhaniya powder, she perched the coconut on top.

Like when you start a new venture, be it marriage or an inauguration of a new shop, or birth, she had always seen her father break the coconut before the deity. Today it felt auspicious somehow, when the coconut broke into two on the pole outside the shop.

She wanted to narrate the whole nutty affair to Yatharth. Sometimes it is so hard to contain few things to yourself. You just need to talk in one breath, and then laugh or giggle. These were few things that Reena had come to value. It was rare for her to talk to someone in her own tongue. She dialled Yatharth.

'Sweets!"

'Yes, everything is fine?' Her phone calls in office were out of ordinary.

'yeps, I just bought a coconut, and used the wine opener and drained its water, and took it to the Indian shop and the lady....

'Honey, I am in a meeting right now. We will talk later ok? I will call you once I reach the hotel."

Reena hung up. And felt silly. What was there to tell him really, a coconut... how she had managed to break it. And that she was still wondering how to scrape the white flesh out of it. Was just all this that defined her life, frozen peas and coconuts! Her eyes began to sting as tears welled up.

She curled up in sofa like a little kid. And then few minutes later she was crying and home sick.

Writer Speaks:

2007-04-10T12:59:00.000+05:30

Dear Readers,

Thanks a tonne for your interest in the story of Yatharth and Reena. I really had no intention of writing a story in this line, of a young couple. But then thanks to all of you, who kept coming and asking for more, this story is taking a shape. I hope to take it further.

Well, I think this post should qualm all fears and worries about my well being! Please bear in my mind, all characters are fictitious ;)

Yes, it is true that I tend to hide behind characters and write my story. This time it had been Yatharth when I was poring my emotions. Suddenly aimless, shaky and unbalanced... I wrote about Yatharth wondering what he needed from life. However, now the story is taking shape and I am out of that mood swing, I will try to develop Yatharth's character too.

I was just wondering, where in the world should this couple be living? It has been obvious by now that they are not in India. Swiss would be the most convenient location, since I know this place now. I can talk about Reena going to Migros for groceries. Describe a few places, like the beaches by the lake... like it is daylight till 8pm... like the sight of Rocher De Naye from the balcony... or may be the nuances of daily life other than groceries ;) Buying tickets at the train station. Downloading hindi movies, looking frantically for recipes in the internet. And Amma calling!

So, I settle for Swiss, and by the lake... So it will be in the Lake Geneva region. It could be Vevey-Montreux where I am currently living or Geneva or Laussane. And where does Amma live? Hmm.. India or Nepal? Nepal where my mom actually is. Hmm and where is Reena's sasurbadi or sasural?? Kolkata...hmmm I will make it Mumbai, direct flight to Geneva. And so mother in law can visit Reena during 'these times'.

Hmm, and who should these two be? Bengalis, Gujjus....

I wonder if I will be needing specifics to these levels...

Currently the next thread in mind, is about Reena calling up Yatharth, worried how to break open the coconut she just bought!

Friends keep coming, put in your thoughts sometime. It is lovely!

Vid

Amma Calls

2007-04-05T13:02:00.000+05:30

Amma has this strange habit of speaking so loud when it is a long distance call, Reena recalled. When she was a kid, she wondered why Amma would repeat, hello hello hello whenever she was talking to their relatives living in America. Amma would often pepper her Hindi with few words of English thrown in here and there. She would say, "aur weather kaisa hey?" "bachho kee education kaisee chal rahi hey?", stressing on 'weather' and 'education' while inquiring about both.

Amma still has this habit, Reena smiled as she heard Amma say Hello Hello Hello, in one breath when she picked up the phone. "Yes Amma", she chimed. And Amma asked her about the weather, and she asked after Yatharth. " He should not go out for that long", she complained to Reena. " It is okay Amma, I don't feel lonely, really." " Sacchi (Honestly) ? But you never would eat your meals alone, without someone by your side.... "I switch the TV on Amma, and it is like a room filled with people" And Amma laughed.

"Aur bolo (tell me what's new)". Reena wondered had Amma already guessed, there was something new after all. New beyond the high rises, beyond the places she had visited, the malls, the currency exchange and how costly even dhaniya patti (corriander) leaves were.

"Amma", we are going to be a family soon. And then she burst into tears. "Reena, beta (child) arrey yeh toh wonderful news hey (this is a wonderful news), she said stressing on wonderful.

Reena laughed, her mom had picked another new word of English. Then Amma was all over giving her advices, telling her that she will come over after a few months. Till then Reena was to eat well. Healthy food. No more pizza, or the baby will stick in your tummy with all that cheese and refuse to buzz when it is time, she jested. And beta, have lots of white food, and you will have a gora gora chora ( fair son). Hmmm, why not gori gori chori (fair daughter??), Reena grumbled.

But Amma was not listening, she was listing out food items Reena should eat " teen baar doodh, skip nahi karna beta" ( milk thrice a day, and don't skip it child), and eat chhena (cottage cheese made out of fresh milk at home by adding lemon juice to hot milk and straining the curdled mass), and lot of yogurt and chitki (coconut). If you have the white part of the coconut, you will have a fair child, that's what they say, Amma sighed. Reena was not very fair, and Amma always blamed herself for not eating white things when she was carrying Reena.

Yes Amma will do, Reena said. And then in a while she hung up. There was a list to make while going for grocery today. She took out her pad from the drawer beneath the telephone table and jotted down..

coconut
milk
yogurt (nature)
milk chococate
...
...

And Swapnil tip toes

2007-03-29T18:39:00.000+05:30

As she reached the end of the story, she put away the book. Jhumpa Lahiri, why does she not write merry tales, she sighed. She loved Lahiri's prose. In fact she would often go back to the short stories- Interpreter of maladies. What made her read them again, was the details that gave life to each character. Like in the story, Temporary Matter, when she describes Shoba.....

'She'd come from the gym. Her cranberry lipstick was visible only on the outer reaches of her mouth, and her eyeliner had left charcoal patches beneath her lower lashes.'

That is some description she thought. The color of the lipstick. Visible at the outer reaches of the mouth... like so often after a day's work. It gave life to Shoba, this woman back from work and then to gym and then back home.

There was more she had liked, the description of food and cooking itself.

Shukumar gathered onion skins in his hands and let them drop into the garbage pail, on top of the ribbons of fat he'd trimmed from the lamb. He ran the water in the sink, soaking the knife and the cutting board, and rubbed a lemon half along his fingertips to get rid of the garlic smell, a trick he'd elarned from Shoba.

It was all so nice to read, how Shoba would unclip her hair, pry in the kitchen without untying her sneakers. How wonderfully Lahiri brings out reality in fiction, Reena smiled.

But she had not liked reading this story today. She had put the book away with her brows knit in a strange expression. This story was about a failing marriage. About the birth of a dead baby, and how the parents then slipped away from one another.

Reena gently touched her tummy. It was still flat. She had not suspicious when she skipped her menses last month. But her gynacologist had whom she visited yesterday, confirmed that she had concieved. That was a tremendous news, she realized why babies where called a 'bundle of joy'. She felt a lump in her throat, she could just not speak. But she was beaming with joy.

She did not want to tell Yatharth this news over the telephone. Yatharth had gone on his office tour for a month. She would patiently wait, she decided. And then she wondered if they would have a baby boy or a baby girl. She remembered how Yatharth and she had once talked about babies and both shrieked... no way, we are too young to be parents!! And still they had started to talk about names. I will call her Samragyi, the empress, Reena had said. Yatharth laughed and said, she would become Sami to her friends and our parents would never get her name straight, so be ready for " Somu or Somi".. And if we have a boy, but no we will have a girl first, Reena chirped. Ah! do you want an army, Yatharth had laughed heartily. And then he said, we will have a boy, only child. Our dream. He will be ' Swapnil'.

Reena already was talking to Swapnil and telling him that she knew he had tip toed!

Reena Speaks!

2007-03-09T13:14:00.000+05:30

Mornings are meant to be lazy. The early sun rays playfully disrupted Reena's sleep. She woke up. Hmm.. it's Friday today!!

She was now sharing a life with Yathartha. The days he went to work, were like days she went to work... and his Friday was like her Friday, what a thought , she exclaimed.

Yathartha was so true to his name. He was real, he was reality. He was no dream she was chasing in idle hours. He was no knight in white horse, he was who he was and she knew he loved her.

She rushed through the morning chores, went in kitchen and fixed his breakfast!! Ah, she forgot to peel almonds today, she realized after he had gone to work. It hadn't been a great start, she realized, she had broken one plate today. The smashed pieces were still lying on the kitchen floor. The clothes out from the dryer were still unfolded, the bed undone, the dishes of morning breakfast still dirty in the sink. She wasn't the Reena she thought she was. She would become soon though, after an hour or two. A few hours of her own, when she could be just her, with no responsibilities, when she could sit down and watch a movie that Yathartha wouldn't anycase, paint a picture, think about little children, and think about what she really wanted from life...

It was time for breakfast, she got up from her contemplative mood. Slowly she went about cleaning her house. Before evening, both she and the house would look welcoming. They had to! Because then he would come home.

She had pinned the poem she had written yesterday with a magnet on the fridge, this morning. I have read this before, Yathartha said. Yeah, it is similar, or well similarly written... in the same pattern... But that was not for you.. this one is...

Yathartha read the poem again..

The door bell rings..
I run and comb my hair
He's home now
After a day's work
I wonder how to please him

The kettle waits to sing tea time
I forget he doesnt like 'chai'
He holds me strongly in his arms
Lemme go, I will get something to eat

In kitchen
I lovingly cook
He eats with joy
No words are exchanged

Hmmm?? did you say anything!
nah.. it is good

what is?
everything

and he closes his eyes

ah...dont do that
why?
cause then it will spill out
what?
love!
love that you have gathered all in your eyes

Yathartha smiles and takes her in his arms . Ouch! you are squeezing me... And then they both remember, it isn't weekend yet. And they both rush, the plate gets broken, both are slightly angry... but then that's why goodbye kisses are meant to be! And the magic of the kiss lasts the day long!!!

Yatharth, the hero

2007-02-20T15:44:00.000+05:30

She kissed him on his lips, said goodbye and closed the door. Her day now began all over again after the early morning. There was no need to hurry about anything. She could have her breakfast now, an hour later or altogether skip it if she wanted.

Yatharth smiled as he pictured Reena and her day. He started the car and another day had begun for him.

He told himself that he would give himself a good hearing this weekend or the next definitely. He knew he was still unsettled, the idea of climbing mountains and diving in the lake seemed quite heroic at that moment. But how feasible was it, he chuckled. He could not share these whims with anyone. They would all tell him he was insane. What else does a man need to be happy!

'jaane kyaa chaahey man baawara, aakhiyan mere sawan chala", he stopped the song playing in the cd player of his car. What was it? Why did he feel he was stuck. Like life suddenly was thrown out of gear. There was a new vista that he had now. But perhaps he was such who could not enjoy happiness. He felt a sudden urge to strike his head on the steering wheel. The urge passed. He had reached his office.

With the mundane work, the cappucino and his dozing colleague on the chair next to him, he continued through the day.

It was during the evening before he left his desk, that he had time to think again about himself. Perhaps he was not as strong as he thought he were, perhaps he was not a hero that he thought himself to be, perhaps he excelled in tough situations like in past. He shook his head at such depressing thoughts.

Suddenly he thought... what if he fell in love all over again! A passionate love affair, may be with Picasso's paintings or with gardening or with his wife Reema. Yatharth, stopped his ride through imagination and walked up to his car. The day was done!

The night after...

2007-02-12T13:48:00.000+05:30

He woke up. It was a beautiful morning. He stretched his arms and Reena rolled into them. He smiled tenderly. 'Go out for a jog', Reena said. She busied herself then in fixing breakfast and other mundane tasks.

He jogged for an hour by the lake. Looked at the snow capped mountains . Breathed in the crisp air. And then he realized what it was that he wanted. What was raw and what was deep. He wanted to scale the mountain. He wanted to dive in the water. He wanted challanges, he wanted to prove himself by overcoming them. What's there in complacency. It is no good to think that you have it all, that your world is too perfect and idle around. He was not a weak man that he could not enjoy what he had. He was strong, stronger than the rest. He wanted his muscled arms to sweat, he wanted to feel the strong sun, he wanted to reach newer heights.

It is foolish to think that you have it all and more foolish to crib about it! He came back home. Greeted Reena with a smile, and wondered what went inside this woman's heart. With a routined life of breakfasts and lunches and dinners, and linen and upholstery and silverwares, did she not seek a life beyond. A life of one's own. Of challanges that one sets for oneself. Of dreams that one chases.

He just wondered, and thought he'd find it out some day.

In a cold night

2007-02-07T02:48:00.000+05:30

He stood outside in his balcony. The wind was cold. It blew his thin shirt. He stared at the lights beyond the lake. Like the night, he felt empty.

After an eventful day he thought he deserved more than this nagging feeling- feeling vacant. It was like there was nothing in life that held a meaning to him. He had everything that he would have hoped for. A wonderful house by the lake, a wife who cooked lovely food and who was a delight at night. Yet, what was it, he strained hard.

He had a big urge to light his ciggaratte. Only if Reena had not asked him 'honey, don't smoke at home'. He suddenly felt angry. It was his god damn house, his god damn cigarette and why did that god damn woman had to object. He smiled at himself at how he had referred to her... a woman! Was she just a woman? Oh, yes he did love her. He did shower her with flowers that she loved. And heart shaped mugs, pillows, pendents... Argh, not that he cared much for any of it. It was just nice to see her smile. That was all. That smile. But did he not need more. More than that smile. Something deeper and more raw. He laughed this time, deeper and raw, what did he really mean. Perhaps, he was thinking crazy, just because he had every thing he had wished for.

What had he wished for really? May be he got everything without wishing at all. He was a man with simple means, and today he was doing well. He was not someone women adored, yet he had a lovely wife today. What else does a man need? A ciggarette, may be.

He did not know what to do. Reena called him, Sweets, it is cold outside, get in or you will catch cold. He got in. He slumped on the sofa , switched the tv on and let it fill his emptiness with sounds coming from it.

He was hoping that he would fall asleep on the sofa. Not having to go near Reena. He did not want to touch her. He felt like he was actually using her. He was sorry for her. He was sorry for himself. He wondered what had happened to him.

Someone had once said, if it's too beautiful, it can't be real. Perhaps his world was not real. Or did he pretend it to be too beautiful. He felt a sudden disgust for the lake, for his house by the lake, for Reena who kept humming while she made his bed, and for himself.

He went out in the balcony and lighted his cigarette.

Apron Vs Wings

2007-01-31T03:27:00.000+05:30

Take the apron on, and put on your wings!

Hmm, I am thrilled with the thought. JB has sold his idea well!! Beyond these mounts that I see from my balcony, he tells me to go on a flight. But where I wonder. Snugly fit in this small world of mine, with kitchen and apron, laundry and grocery, cooking and cleaning, perhaps I have lost the desire to fly. Is it? Perhaps I am too scared to leave this little nest.

I think again. But fly where ... but fly how...

I will think.. I hope I will...

Meanwhile, been reading a bit about Bapu. After Lage Raho Munna bhai, I have this constant yearning to read his biography...

Got this link, thought would share with my readers..

Sevagram

Oh Hum Dum... dara dam dam

2007-01-25T16:43:00.001+05:30

Snowy Morning!

Linus opens the door of my room. I open my eyes.

So been awake for long?
No! just a while ago. Not sleeping soundly any case.
Ah... get up now, it is a lovely morning.
Naaah... feel cold and sleepy.
Ok, I will fix my breakfast then.

Dam dara dam , mast mast...
Oh, hum dum bin terey kya jeena..

I am lying on the bed while I hear the song, Linus just played on his notebook.

I get up in a while, fix a small tiffin for him, which he can take to work. After a long while, I am back to kitchen .

Last night, I was telling him, I am fed up of being ill... Skin on my face has been infected by some bacteria.... streppococcus or sth... Recovering from chickenpox and there comes bacteria on virus... argh... And I say aloud, if I ever get any chronic illness, I would give up and hope to ...

Hmmm... and before he is off to office, he says - I really liked that song... I played it twice. Dedicate it to you...

Hmm...the song is on repeat loop now....

I will get well soon... I know!

Snow fall

2007-01-24T03:00:00.000+05:30

It was snowing today!

Hmm... go take a walk dear, Linus tells me. I look at him and wink, are you driving me out of the house! He says, No I want to see you walk in the snow.

I struggle with my jacket, he lends me a hand. I tie my shoelaces - can I get some water please. He hands me a glass of water. Tells me not to forget my umbrella. And off I go...

Outside the building, I look up if he is looking out of the balcony... I do not see him, disappointed, I walk on... I look at the snow.. Oh my God... snow.. little white flakes.. like someone was emptying the pillows made of soft cotton flakes...

I walk out to the street, I see him waving at me...

Sweets, there has not been a better expression of love than this.... to ask me to walk in the snow... so that you can see my delight... so that you can feel me taking the fresh air...

I walk on. I look at the cars parked at the street. I touch the snow that has covered one of them. Oh, it is snow!

How many names they must have for snow in Eskimo language.... I come home and ask, what should I call you Sweets?

:-)

First walk in the snow! Awesome!!!

Taking Stock

2007-01-22T14:24:00.000+05:30

Hmm, few nights ago, when Linus was reading my blog, I asked , would you read it had I not written it? He did not have to answer, he just smiled. No, he would not read it!

So, I started to wonder, why would anyone read my blog. Friends could come once in a while, see what is going on with that 'laugh it out loud' kid. Hmm, after all what is there that I am offering... a tit bit of daily life, expressing few irrelevant details, and well what else?

While I wonder, I realize that there is really nothing substantial on offer- nothing on humor, nothing at all on branding or marketing or good/bad customer expereinces (something I could do well in writing), no remarkable anecdotes, but just a ramble.... Perhaps, because I no more write a diary, or no more put in effort to write an article that i would send to the newspapers. Ah, it all needs discipline. hmm...

Well, it needs more, a flare, creativity... and feeling the low i am feeling currently... I do one thing to stop myself to get into the pit of self pity! I write a threatening message to an 'ardent' reader (ok ok ok, just a reader!)--- hey, why the heck do you read my posts, to see how pathetic writings could be... or you got too much time on you (he he he ), any case, gimme a reason why i should keep writing.... i am shutting off....

Hmm.. and comes a generous reply!
i read it, it's interesting

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks.... my ego is now in seventh heaven... Huh, don't I try just one more post, so that those of you who read, don't go disapointed when you visit me...

:)

hope the enthusiasm reaches newer heights..

vid

He

2007-01-20T22:44:00.000+05:30

Hmm... so what do you think a man is ? Over a past pav bhaji conversation (or may be pre pav bhaji) this question pops up..

It reminds me of Kathmandu, a restaurant where I was sipping coffee with an 18 year old boy. Young enough to be my brother, and almost, he was Annie's. Over coffee and some ciggi smoke, he asks, so Vid, tell me , describe your man.

It is tricky- I have this not really nice man who comes up immediately (that time in KTM), he has a ciggarette between his fingers, his ears are plugged with sounds coming from his mp3 player, he opens his mouth to word the lyrics that he is listening to, gives sly and long looks to good looking women, and shuts off his system after several hours of gruesome work to get a fresh air and jogs for an hour.

Then, I switch the image, there is a well groomed fellow- with his tie in place, he just shaved this morning, his aftershave is just too irresistible. Too irritatingly good, annie would have commented... then I take a puff and agree with Alok, this goodie guy is someone I would have a family with...and that baddie an affair... we guffaw.... (Alok , my coffee companion)

Hmmm, it is a year since that time. There have been several coffee times, few newer faces, but one constant coffee companion- who i better refrain from describing (he peeps in too often, and I just cant call him sexy out here..he he )... and well after a long time..of no more conjuring a man up.. no more building stories.. no more looking for COLORs, there pops the question again...
and JB asks, why is your man a baddie, fuelled by the description of my one time story (a date with Annie) where I write as a man... and my description of the man is not really a baddy, except he has ordered beer....

So, JB sets to argue, you think a man is always with beer and ciggi and... and and ...

I smile.... Is there anything to say? The man has gone and hid... I am waiting and wanting his return...

So that I can write!

Clear Skies

2007-01-19T21:31:00.000+05:30

It is winter, yet not cold!

I listen to weather reports in CNN with interest. This is particularly bad news for Switzerland, that there is little snow.

The wintertime tourism is going to take a hit. No, no skii this weekend, Rima tells me, as she pours veggies and rice for me on a plate. Ski resorts must be resorting to some false snow. But is that helping.

It seems like not long ago, I would be given a topic by teacher at high school to write an essday on global warming.

And with the wink of eyes, here I am in the Alpine region, witnessing the global warming.

Hmm.... the sky is clear today, it is almost 5pm, yet it is still bright outside...

Recovering from chicken pox and at least reclaiming my appetite!

more later...
vid