Preach Mode: On

I have no idea why, but I just feel like doing a short post today. I feel like delivering a small lecture to anyone who is willing to listen.

You, reading this, yes, you...stop looking around.

You're beautiful.

You're the sexiest person alive.

Man you're hot!

And never

Ever

Ever

Ever

think otherwise,

hot stuff ;)

The Exorcist

Eep!

Let me begin by saying I am not a fan of the horror genre. In fact, on any normal day, I would not touch horror by a barge pole. I have religiously and happily avoided watching or reading anything that was remotely close to horror and I was quite pleased with my progress. Until...

I was reading a blog post around Halloween, where the entry spoke about must-read books from the horror genre. As I read the details about the books listed, I could not help but be intrigued. I had never really read a scary book (unless you count Goosebumps!) and the ones mentioned in the blog were downright classics. I finished reading and curiosity got the best of me - I ordered three books from flipkart. The Shining, The Exorcist and IT.

The first of the lot was The Shining by Stephen King. Stephen King is often times considered master of the horror genre, and has written several books in the same. The Shining is considered one of his best, and was made even more popular when Jack Nicholson played the role of Jack Torrance from the book. The book also received a mention in F.R.I.E.N.D.S, when Joey got so scared of the novel, he stored it in his freezer! After reading the book though, I wouldn't say that Joey may have exaggerated. The book is that scary. There are some truly spine-chilling moments in the book, where I felt my heart beating a thousand beats per second. There were also times when I put the book away because I was too scared to go further. In the end, however, I finished it, saw the movie version (didn't like it as much as the book!) and I felt satisfied!

Then came gulp The Exorcist. I remember seeing fragments of the movie version a long time ago. I knew the story, I knew what was to happen, yet I was not prepared for the book version. The way the author has described the paranormal, horrific incidents were so disturbing and revolting at times. I read the entire novel with a blank expression on my face, where my mom would ask me several times - what is wrong with you? As I reached the climax, I felt my hands going cold and trembling and finally the book ended, however my adrenalin rush would not settle. I swear I started hearing noises and felt movements. I could not sleep at night. I was thoroughly shaken. Will I see the movie though? Highly doubtful!

Now I am reading IT by Stephen King. The book is a massive 1376 pages, so it will take me some time to finish. But I'm sure I'm going to enjoy every bit of it.

So, have I become a horror convert? Perhaps!
Am I going to see horror movies? At present, HECK NO!

The Crush...

It's just..a little crush

From the age of 10 to 15, I had a massive, massive crush on a boy in my class. He was fairly popular among the girls, good at sports, great at science and an all round good guy. Seriously, who wouldn't fall for such a person? Well, I fell. And I fell hard. You know that kind of longing you experience, where your heart beats harder each time the person walks by? When you secretly cry thinking he would never be with you? That's how it was with him. I never told him how I felt, and it took me 2 years to finally get over him.

After him, I never felt the same about any guy. Of course, I fell in love and was in a relationship, but I must honestly admit that I didn't have a crush on him. And I don't think you can equate a crush with love. Of course if the crush is mutual and it develops into a relationship, there is nothing better. But that never happened with me. My first crush didn't surmount to anything, and my first love was no crush. Weird, but true!

But now, dear readers, at the risk of having that person read this post, I am about to reveal the second crush of my life. Now this crush is completely different from my first in the sense that it isn't longing I felt for him. It was awe...maybe what I will feel when I finally meet John Abraham (YES IT WILL HAPPEN! POSITIVE THINKING!). I will not name him, but let's call him...umm..Guru (I have no idea why!)

Now you will all remember when I went to Delhi for an internship, right? Well, Guru was the editor of the magazine where I interned. The very first time I saw him, I was actually taken aback. Was this man for real? Tall, fair, brown eyes, curly hair, thick lips..that was just from the outside. Then he shook my hand and his deep baritone voice boomed "Hi Supriya, we really need you!" And in my head I thought Oh my! I really need you too!

It was crush at first sight. I found myself staring at him during breaks, my eyes twinkling (maybe my pupils dilated to little hearts, who knows?!). I sighed every 2 minutes, and I remember I drooled a fair bit too! I was a bumbling mess each time he spoke to me. His voice literally made me weak in the knees.

Then came the most memorable day of my life. It was decided that we would go to Chandni Chowk for some exploration and a shoot too. A day earlier, Guru texted me about the next day's details (I still have that message saved. Sigh) We all met up at work, and once we were all in, we were on our way.

We first went to Haldiram's, where Guru treated us all to chole bhature after which we all split up and went on our way. I crossed my fingers and prayed..oh please let me be on Guru's side..and thankfully, I was! I did a little jig when no one was watching, and I silently followed Guru as we started exploring Chandni Chowk.

We walked a lot, and spoke a lot too. Walking the small cramped lanes, the cold weather and Guru's company made me feel like I was on a set of some movie. So surreal.

Once we were done we started walking towards the Metro station. It is a long walk, and we were both very tired. "Shall we get a rickshaw?" Guru asked and immediately I felt my heart thudding loudly. I would be sitting so close to him! We hailed a cycle rickshaw and I gingerly sat next to him. I know it sounds so cheesy, but I felt an intense emotion being in such close proximity. I swear I felt myself blushing, my face was on fire. It was the most epic time I have ever ever had.

Of course the ride got over soon. He was such a gentleman - he helped me out of the rickshaw. I wish I could describe how I felt exactly, but right now the words are just not coming to me. I would just say it was one of the best feelings.

So Guru, if you're reading this, YES, I did have a crush on you (seriously, who wouldn't?) You are my real-life John Abraham :)

tek tek

tek tek
tek
tek tek tek

(stop it please. stop)

"Nice to see you Mr. Khurana"
"Nice to see you too"

(wouldn't I love to blow your FUCKING BRAINS OUT!)

Too tight.
Too tight.
Too

(I should leave)

Tight.

Yeah baby
Harder.

(Scream for me bitch. SCREAM!)

Blood. Brains.
Brains.
Blood.

(What did I do? No! No!)

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH


tek tek
tek
tek tek

The Ass Biter

A long time ago, Diwali vacations meant long hours of nothingness, inventing and playing weird games, fighting with siblings, eating delicious food and other such all-round goodness.

GRR! Gimme back my ball!

On one such balmy vacation evening, a bunch of us were hanging out at the park. General random mutterings were shared. We were all sitting around doing nothing, when we heard loud shrieks. Two kids were fighting with each other over some reason, let's just assume it was cricket. They were hitting each other silly when two of the older boys came and separated them. One of the kids (let's call him Prakash) huffed angrily and went away. The other one (let's call him Avinash) adjusted his t-shirt and came walking towards us.

A good ten minutes passed, and our random mutterings were still on. Avinash was standing on my right, talking about something. We were all lost in conversation, when we heard a loud cry. Prakash was screaming his head off, running straight towards Avinash. He looked like Leonidas entering the battlefield.

"THIS IS SPART..sorry..AVINAAASHHHH!" he screamed and lunged towards him. All this happened so quick, we were too stunned to react. Prakash must have missed his mark because he landed near Avinash's feet, missing him completely. I guess Prakash had a backup plan in mind, because the very next second, he pounced on his ass and..I kid you not...started biting it. His mouth was filled with a meaty chunk of Avinash's ass, and he held on to it like some wild animal.

Avinash howled loudly and tried to free himself from Prakash's death-grip, but he simply would not let go. Again two boys came and separated them, while the rest of us were falling on the floor, laughing our guts out.

I miss Diwali vacations!

Some Updates

*Lately, I've grown really, stupendously hot. Dear reader, I wish 'hot' meant sexy, but not in my context. I have been sweating half my body weight out every single day, and I hate that. The worst part is that the sweatiest part of my body is my face. Not armpits, like regular people. Had to be my face. It feels like I've come out of a sauna every time I enter my office, and it feels so horribly gross. I even carry around a huge-ass napkin. Is there a cure for sweatiness? Oh I really hope there is!

*I have fallen in love with 'Shaam' from the movie Aisha. I know I am late, but I am not really an appreciator of Hindi music. But there's just something about that song. I have heard it on loop at least ten times, and I loved it more each time. However, I am also sure I will get sick of it by the end of this month. The same happened with Train's 'Hey Soul Sister'.

*I wish I could update this blog more frequently, but I guess I am suffering from a permanent writer's block. I do hope it doesn't permeate into writing for the magazine, cause that will totally suck! There are so many things I want to share, but as soon as I touch the keyboard, I loose it. I am freely writing this post, maybe that's why I am able to write it. Hmm. Maybe I should do that more often.

*Flipkart is my latest haunt. I have ordered so many books lately, the guy who couriers them to my home told me he has never delivered so many books to one residence! I guess that's cool, right? Currently I'm reading Stephen King's The Shining. After I read Carrie, I knew I had to read The Shining. I have finished about six chapters now..nothing scary...so far! The next book on its way is All My Friends Are Dead by Avery Monsen and Jory John. Can't wait for that one!

*I miss talking to this friend of mine, with whom I don't speak anymore. We had the best, most random conversations. I used to shout at him, we fought a lot, but then we made up too. We spoke for hours over the most stupidest things. And now, we don't talk anymore. How things change, eh?

*I read my very first byline in the magazine, and I dedicated it (in my mind) to my grandfather. Long ago, I had told him that when I write a book, I will dedicate it to him. This article, of course, is not a book, but it's a start. It's my name in print. And I dedicate it to him.

*Diwali is here! Yay! It's my favorite festival of all time! I love dressing up, the lights, the sweets. I could live without those blasted fireworks! Dhadam, dhudum, dhadam! Fuu! Hate them. I wish some inventor creates a noise-less, pollution-less alternate to fireworks. Wouldn't that be epic?

*I miss being in love. I can't say anything more on this topic. Let's just say, I love you all :)

Shaadi.com?

These conversations are getting very regular at my house these days. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm growing old without my knowledge. Feh.

itchy crotch!

Mom: बेटा, तूने क्या सोचा है?
Me: किसके बारे में?
Mom: शादी के बारे में!
Me (sighing): और मुझे शादी के बारे में क्यूँ सोचना है?
Mom: तू बड़ी हो गयी है अब! मैं लड़के देखना शुरू कर रही हूँ.
Me: Laughing hysterically, almost falling off the couch
Mom: हस मत. तू नहीं चाहती किसी सुन्दर से राजकुमार के साथ तेरी शादी हो?
Me: तू कर ले शादी. I'm happy as I am.
Mom: नहीं बेटा, अब दो साल में तेरी शादी करनी है. मैं तेरी प्रोफाइल बना रही हूँ shaadi.com पर.
Me: बना दे...लेकिन मेरी photo ज़रूर डालना.
Mom (pausing): दो साल हैं...तू बिलकुल shape में आ जाएगी! कल से diet शुरू!
Me (slapping my forehead): हे भगवान्! मैं ऐसे इंसान से क्यूँ शादी करूँ जिसके लिए physical appearance ज्यादा ज़रूरी हो?
Mom: It matters
Me: UGH!
Mom: तेरे मामा भी कह रहे थे अब उम्र हो गयी है तेरी...
Me: I'm only 24!!
Mom: जब मैं 24 थी, तू पैदा हो गयी थी...
Me: ..and you're still regretting that decision!
etc..
etc..
etc...

Marriage. Ugh. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers. I've never ever seriously thought about being married someday. And now I'm being bombarded with such conversations from various family members and acquaintances. I'm only 24 people! Is that too old for Indian marriage standards?

Sometimes I feel I'm just not built for marriage. I'm lazy, immature, irresponsible - no saasu maa will want me for a bahu (good riddance in my books! ;D) But just in case, by some freak incidence, I do get married in two years, this post would have been completely useless, and I'd probably be deleting it then (in case my to-be saasu ma is net savvy).

BLEH!

And I did this too!

If there's something unusual, weird, or random happening, you can be sure you'll find me there. This time around, the concept of a 'Fish Pedicure' caught my fancy.

A long time ago, I had seen a documentary on Discovery. People in Turkey suffering from various skin disorders were dipping themselves in these large pools filled with tiny black fishies. These fishies then stick to the person's body and start picking on their skin. Apparently, it's a great therapy and has had proven results.

I read about Fish pedicures when I was in Delhi last year. People were going ga-ga over how smooth their feet felt, and how rejuvenated they were after their experiences. I made a mental note of getting it checked out, but then a lot happened, in that period and it just slipped out of my mind.

Now this has migrated to good ol' Bombay too. And I jumped on the opportunity to visit one. The appointment was set, and I patiently sat, waiting for my turn. I kept wondering what it would feel like. When my turn came, I was taken in and an assistant first washed my feet. She asked if I had any allergies. In case you're wondering, I'm allergic to coriander now. Refer to previous post. But I guess that wouldn't matter for a Fish Pedicure, so I skipped that detail.

After a good washing up, I was taken in to the tub section. Hundreds of fishes were swimming around, probably wondering, "when's the next meal coming, yo?" I smiled, and thought, "you're really gonna like my feet little fishes!"

The timer was set for 15 minutes, and I gingerly dipped my feet in. Immediately the swarm latched on to my feet, and it felt like hundreds of tiny pins were pricking me. It felt so ticklish, and I saw these fishes going like a vacuum cleaner and sucking on my feet, inch by inch.

Eat little ones, eat.

Unfortunately, a huge crowd gathered to witness what was happening, like the Red Sea was parting or something. I felt like a caged animal on parade. Bleh. I decided to focus on the fishes who were trying to consume my feet, very unsuccessfully, however.

OMGWTF is going on here?! OMG!

But when I was getting really comfortable, I was told my 15 minutes were up and I had to get out of the tub. I pouted a little...I felt so close to the fishes by now. Come on they just consumed my skin, I felt connected! I didn't want to leave! "You could extend this session for 15 minutes for Rs. 200 more," the assistant told me. "Yeah, you can dry my feet now," I replied, shaking off the fishes from my feet.

*squeaky squeaky*

And now I have shiny, happy and the cleanest feet I've ever had. I will visit again, for sure. Wait for me, my little ones!

The commute

Now that I have started working again, I consciously decided that I am going to add some exercise to my daily routine. In my previous job, I traveled by car and sat at my desk all day long, and being the super lazy person I am, there was absolutely no scope for exercise. Now, my office is located 20 minutes from Dadar station, so instead of taking a cab (which I wouldn't get anyway) I decided to walk to and fro to work.

Does 20 minutes of leisurely walking count?

I am usually not an observant person when I am traveling by an auto or cab. I don't pay attention to any details, and I usually get horribly lost, unless the driver knows exactly where I want to go. But when I walk, I absorb and take in all the details around me - the sights, sounds, everyday nuances about the place. Getting off at Dadar station is an experience within itself. First, the air hangs heavy with the stench of human feces, a hobo's armpits and a 'Gents urinal', all with a dosage of rotting coriander leaves. Then, as I hold my breath as long as I can, I jostle with about a million other people to walk up a flight of narrow stairs, bearing blows to all parts of my body.

I don't complain about this, because it's not only me who's going through the ordeal. The woman who was punching me a second ago was also being punched by someone else. It's an endless cycle of punches and blows. It's all fun and game till you know, someone dies, or something. Anyway, once the jostling is over, my walk begins.

If the station itself is so bad, you can only image what lies ahead. Wading through unending muck and dirt and blood, and vomit and coriander I start walking. It is drizzling slightly, so everyone opens up their umbrellas, almost poking my eyes out. There is a very old and sad looking horse who pulls a cart laden with rotten lettuce and coriander. I feel deeply hurt, but move on. There are two cows tied to a pole eating and shitting while people touch them out of sheer respect.

A little further, there is a Sulabh Sauchalaya, smelling like it should smell, along with rotting coriander. A homeless family sits on a cart outside. The baby wails on top of his voice, and his teenage mother mouths expletives shutting the baby up. Then I see a rare sight of ear wax cleaners (seriously, there are none around anymore!) cleaning people's ears and a public assembles to watch this (disgusting) feat.

Walking ahead, there is more rotting coriander and hordes of people loading bags and bags of it in trucks. Seriously, that's a lot of coriander. There is another cow tied to a pole, swatting flies with its tail. Then comes something I haven't seen in such close proximity before. There is something called 'Navrang Bar', a desi daru adda. There is no door, flimsy curtains separating the drunks from the outside world. There is the overpowering smell of bad alcohol, and I observe people getting totally hammered at 8.30 IN THE MORNING. Drunks sit outside, either vomiting or getting into fights.

Another 5 minutes later, I reach my office. There is a small Hanuman mandir outside with the inscription 'Thanks to Mr. XYZ for the biggest donation ever to make this mandir'. I bow my head in prayer and mumble:

"I better lose weight at the end of this!"

And so, it begins (again)

Bloggersville! I have some exciting news (mostly for me, but since you guys lubb me so much, it's only fair I share :))

I had quit my corporate job in December 2009 in hopes of making a career in photography. I then interned with a well known magazine in Delhi as a photographer. It was a lot of fun, and getting my photos published really put a lot of things in perspective for me. The internship was a three month stint, and post that, I joined a photography course in Bombay to better my skills. Once that got over, started to look for work again..and it took a very long time, but I made it, finally :D I am now going to be working for India's number 1 photography magazine, doing what I really love to do! I'm so happy and feel so blessed!

Anyway, now that a new chapter of my life is beginning, I can't help but think about the first job I had, the big bad corporate world! A lot of memories came..here's a few to share with you!

Our bay consisted of 6 seats, and I vividly remember the folks I shared my bay with. There was Ms. P, who was flown in from Kolkata for a project. She was so inquisitive, and always ready with a conversation (unless she was busy!) I remember we had this singing duel of sorts..she had this amazing voice, and she would be singing some song, while I would be humming some obscure tune myself, and the music would just clash, but we kept on singing anyway! I remember feeling really bummed out when she left for Kolkata again!

There was also this guy whose name I don't remember. He looked EXACTLY like this:

Of course, he didn't bring a gun to work, but when I saw him for the first time, my first impression was he is definitely a member of the Italian Mafia! He didn't speak much (not at all with me) and would just be working throughout the day (I'm sure you all will remember how I spent my days at work, as suggested by previous posts! *cough*wastingtime*cough*) He had joined our bay in December, during Christmas time. The office got into Christmas mode, decorating the bay. Mr. A and I were really an excited bunch, decorating our bay with the zazziest of Christmas decor. I remember how sweetly the Italian Mafioso left his seat (even though he was in the middle of work) when we came to decorate his side of the bay.

I am one of those people who hate and abhor Antakshari with a passion, but I was somehow convinced to take part in the office Antakshari during Diwali. We made it to the finals, and it was between 6 teams (as far as I recall!). Our team was losing (I told you I hate antakshari!!) and as a last ditch effort, I belted out Masakalli from Dilli 6. The feeling was so amazing, the crowd went crazy, and I felt really really good. We didn't win, of course, but I did win this box of Tiffany sweets, so I guess it wasn't all bad!

As I recall all these moments, I am just left smiling. Now a whole new 'era' begins, more memories to make, more blog posts to write!

Cheerio, my lovelies :)

..is writing a post

Boon or Bane?

Facebook - the phenomenon that has taken the world by storm. It has defined social networking to what it is today, and even redefined relationships. Personally, I love facebook, and I fail to remember what I was doing before it existed! (cause I'm on facebook 24 hours a day ;))

Now with everything good, there is of bad too. Yin-yang. Facebook is so transparent and so instant, people on your friends list update you on whatever they are doing in a matter of seconds. That could be a good thing if you're that voyeuristic, but what about people who could do without minute-by-minute updates about everything you're doing? When facebook asks you 'What's on your mind?', I'm sure it doesn't want specific, intimate details! Here's a list of updates on facebook I can do without:

1. OMG!!!!@!@!!! OMG!!@23232!! OMGGGGG Edward Cullen is soooo HAAAWWWT! (No he's not. He's a cold blooded leech man)

2. I'm in labour!! Baby number 4 on its way! (Concentrate on pushing, woman!)

3. "Tanhai mein faryaad to kar sakte hai,
Virane ko abad kar sakte hai.
Kya hua aapse mil nahi sakte,
Lekin aapko dil se yaad to kar sakti hai!" (What??!!)

4. Just saw Gupt first day first show!! OMG Kajol was the murderer! (Way to ruin it for the rest of us, my friend!)

5. 2 al mah frds, i luv u n v shud b frds 4eva!!! (Only if you go to grammar school)

6. I lOvE 2 tYpE aLl My StAtuS uPdAtEs lYk dIs (You do have a lot of patience!)

7. Can someone milk my cows while I'm on vacation? (Willing to throw in poisoning your farms for free!)

8. Aal eej well! (It won't be once you get my fist through your face!)

9. Love you boyfriend/girlfriend!!!! MWAH! MWAH!! (This is a whole new level of PDA which I'm not comfortable with!)

10. Just returned from Paris. Off to Maldives in a few hours! Life is good! (-Activating buri nazar-)

11. Very angry. Don't disturb. (And now I shall disturb you, even if I had no intentions to earlier!)

12. Stomach upset :( Making poops the size of my fist!..NASTY! (And I need to know that, because?)

14. Comfortably numb. (Quoting songs now, are we emo boy/girl?)

More to come! Watch this space!

Aisha - The Review

Here's a confession for you - I love a good chick flick. They transport you to this wonderland of sorts where everything is possible. They all start happy chirpy, then there's a drop in the middle where the chick faces a moral dilemma, a climax where the hero and the chick kiss passionately, and a happy chirpy end. This tried and tested formula has been satisfying lonely, heartbroken girls for the longest time.

Then there are the bad ones. The ones that are so bad, you feel like tearing your hair apart in annoyance. You know the ones where, in spite of being so bad, you can't stop watching just because you've already seen it halfway. I saw Sex and the City 2 last week, and I was actually crying because it was so bad. But I will save my rant on the atrocious shitty movie for another post. This one's about Aisha.

To be honest, before I watching this movie, I had expected to absolutely hate it. (maybe SATC 2 has marred my chick flick experience for life?) I thought it will be 2 hours of L'Oreal, Christian Dior, Salvatore Ferragamo, Louis Vuitton; and how the chick can afford those shopping sprees and we can't. Honestly, it's a bit of that along with a so-called adaptation of Emma by Jane Austen.

Sonam Kapoor plays Aisha, the ditsy, nosey matchmaker from a rich Delhi background. Her best friend Pinky Bose (Ira Dubey) is mean, spunky and wears clothes that look like Andy Warhol threw up on them. Then there's Shefali Thakur (Amrita Puri), a talkative "behenji type" Haryanvi girl who has come to Delhi to find a boy for marriage. Aisha takes it up on her self to find a match for Shefali along with giving her a makeover (which includes 'subtle' L'Oreal product placements).

The men in this movie are Abhay Deol as Arjun Burman (who Sonam Kapoor calls Arjan throughout the movie with her weird accent), Aisha's next door neighbour and her complete antithesis. Cyrus Sahukar (cast brilliantly as Randhir Gambhir) is an heir to a mithai dynasty and has a soft spot for Aisha, but fights continuously with Pinky. Then there's the really really hot Dhruv Singh (Arunoday Singh..super smokin' hot shirtless!) who flirts outrageously with Aisha.

The movie basically involves Aisha's meddling ways in trying to get Shefali to hook up with guys she thinks are right for her. Arjun warns her of the consequences, but she doesn't listen. There are camping trips and people getting high, shopping, match making gone wrong, hot girl (Lisa Haydon) taking Arjun's time, making Aisha jealous, fights, punches, babies, more shopping, realizations, etc. etc. etc. Finally after two hours the movie ends, and I'm left thinking I've seen this movie before.

As it turns out, Aisha is not an adaptation of Emma, but an adaptation of Clueless, which was a 1995 comic adaptation of Emma. Clueless starred Alicia Silverstone as Cher Horowitz, and Aisha's character is based on hers. I saw the movie again yesterday, and noticed a lot of scenes and character traits in Aisha have been lifted straight from Clueless.

On the technical side, the cinematography was horrid, some scenes being completely out of focus. Music is fun, upbeat and fresh, quite enjoyable. Cyrus Sahukar is fun to watch, Amrita Puri is annoying, Ira Dubey is bleh, Sonam Kapoor is ok but needs help with that accent and Abhay Deol is flawless (and useless at the same time!)

All in all, this one's an ok movie, can be enjoyed with a big group of girls. Guys, avoid.

Final three word review of Aisha: Clueless was better.

2/5

And then..

My life was perfect.

The sun shined bright all hours of the day. That palm tree always swayed when a strong breeze blew. That chair, painted a shiny white which never faded. How I sat at my sun deck tanning my skin to the perfect shade. I remember those white birds flying in the distance.

I loved my 6pm walks on the beach. The sun wouldn't set, but the sky turned a beautiful shade of orange every day. There was no night. Just the sky changing colour - orange to purple to pink to blue and it was morning again. The sun always shone, its smile ever present.

My dog Tallahassee didn't do much. He sat next to my bed. He never barked, he didn't go for walks. He just sat there, tongue hanging from his mouth, a faint smile on his face. He never bothered me for walks either. He was just a very very quiet dog.

In this life I didn't do much. I was never hungry, so I didn't forage for food. I had all I needed, so I didn't work. I was quite content with my company, so I didn't bother socialising. I was happy.

This was my life. My cozy, comfortable life. It was perfect.

And then, today happened. I was lying on my chair, tanning, as usual. I felt a slight tremble. Strange, I thought. Within minutes I felt another tremble, but the intensity was stronger. I got up from my chair and ran to my room and hid under my bed. Tallahassee still wasn't moving. I called for him, but he sat there as always.

All of a sudden I saw something glimmering outside. The trembling had stopped so I gingerly stepped outside. Everything around was covered in shiny dust. I looked up and the dust was still falling. It covered me completely. What was this? I had never seen something like this before.

I was so scared. I ran right outside my home and to the streets to see what was happening. The shiny dust was still falling. I reached down and scooped a handful of the dust. So strange.

The trembling started again. The intensity was so strong this time, I found myself flung in the air. I screamed loudly and crashed against a white bird. It was stationary too. I held on to its wings, screaming the whole time.

My word was going topsy turvy. The palm tree uprooted and was rolling around in the sky. The shiny dust had filled up the entire atmosphere, the particles choking me. The sun fell to the ground, crashing to a million bits. I saw my chair spinning around, and the very moment the bird I was hanging on to fell to the ground as well.

I hung on to dear life, but I knew my time was almost up. I didn't fall to the ground, wherever that was, anyway. I was spinning around mid air. Somewhere along the commotion I stopped thinking. For a second, everything stopped.

And then..my world came crashing down.

"Mommy!! Reena broke the snow globe!"
"You tattle tale!"

The End.

Troll'd

Yes blogger buddies, my blog is officially troll'd. Some muthakuckas have been trolling on the comments for each post, and posting comments in Mandarin/Japanese with links, which I can only assume is a virus filled porn site. I know the trolls are going to comment on this post as well.

At first I thought they are some innocent Asian people who are appreciating my blog. Then I knew better. And blogger doesn't even allow you to block people from posting on your blog. But I am wise now. I don't bother. Post all you want you mothafuckas! I don't care!! Haiyah!

Apart from that, everything has been so random lately. Life is a haze of nothingness. But there's cake. So, some consolation?

I'm working on something for the next post! So I will see you then!

Tro-lo-lo-lo

Still Daddy's Little Girl

I can't speak for the guys out there, but us girls have this undying need to make our daddies proud of us. He is the strongest man in the world, with the kindest heart. His rough hands hold us tight when we cry. We make stories about dragons and princesses right before bedtime and he tucks us under the covers and kisses us goodnight. He is always there for us, whenever we need him. We will always be daddy's little girls.

What is it about making our daddies proud of us that makes us so emotional? Every time ma came to our open house, we didn't bother so much. But when daddy came, it was such a big deal. That's my daddy, talking to my teacher. He's telling me I can do so much better, but he is still happy. I'm holding back tears.

When ma came to our sports meet, we were happy she's there. But when our daddies came, we pushed harder. We pumped our chubby feet as fast as we could. When we saw him cheering for us, we closed our eyes and just ran towards the finish line and finished the race. We raised our trophies high in the air, looking at his smiling face. Our hearts filled with contentment. I've done something to make you proud, daddy.

When our documentaries were being screened, I waited patiently for you to come to the auditorium. When my teacher praised me in front of you, I tried really hard, but I couldn't control my tears. I cried, and you patted my back. "Don't cry, beta" you said softly. I excused myself. I picked the best seat for you in the auditorium. I waited for you outside. And then I saw that tear trickling down your eyes when you said "I'm so proud of you, beta." I sighed in happiness. I'm on the right path daddy!

-------
Finally I wrote something 'decent'. It's been a while! Hope you're all good! :) Thanks for being patient with me!

P.S. To the people who are posting comments in Mandarin/Japanese, please stop! I dont understand what youre saying!

Few Facts about Fat People

As the spokesperson for all fat people in the universe, I believe it is my duty to inform all you skinny/regular people of the very essential facts about fat people. These are things you probably never knew about us, but it is of utmost importance that you do. Why? Look around you. Every second person is overweight or obese. Pretty soon, you will be too. So please pay attention, for I am about to tell you the things a fat person hates to hear and do.


A. Hear

1. Nothing, and I mean nothing, angers us more than when a skinny girl says "OMG! I have to loose 5 kgs! My weight has gone up to 45kgs! Ugh..I feel so faaatttt!". Have you ever felt a dhai kilo ka haath across your face, bitch? No? Well, now is a good time to start then. FATAAAK!

2. When someone gives us diet/exercise tips, we feel like ripping the person's head to half. We have not asked you to give us any advice, so why do you want to anger a fat person? Remember the dhai kilo ka haath? It applies here too.

3. When you compare other fat people to us. "I have a friend, she's about twice your size...She's sooooo faaat!" What the hell? Are we a benchmark against whom you compare other fat people too? What if I told you I have a friend who's twice more uglier than you? Would you like that?

4. When you say fat people are generally a violent race. Okay, so point 1 and 2 of this may not be helping my case, but really, fat people are not at all violent. Look at us, will you? By the time we raise our fists to punch you silly, we'll be too tired and give up. So no, I am not joining your Antakshari team because you think I will hit every member of the other team just 'cause they're cheating.

5. We hate it when our friends (sweet as they are) call us 'sexy', 'hot', or 'da bomb'. Oh sweeties, you really are too kind. Too, too kind.

6. We hate it when people call us 'fat' or other words which mean 'fat'. And we don't hate it 'cause we feel hurt by the said words. No, no. We hate it cause it's the most unoriginal way to hurt a fat person. You're telling me I'm fat. So? Is that supposed to hurt me? cause I kinda already knew that. Come on, a little originality please!

7. We hate it when a skinny girl says "I eat sooooooooo much...yet I don't gain even one gram of weight." Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Don't smite a fat person. Trust me.

B. Do

1. Fat people hate all kinds of physical activity. We hate the mere thought of going to the gym. If it were up to us, we'd prefer not to move at all. The Sloth's life is the life for us!

2. We hate going clothes shopping. Apparently, clothes manufacturers still believe there are no fat people in this world. We hate trying on clothes, and hate it even more when they don't fit. We hate looking at size zero, as we shriek in disbelief, "How can people be so skinny!" We, however, love shoe and makeup shopping. One size -does- fit all.

3. We hate eating in public. Most people think our eating capacity compares to a blue whale that has been hungry for 5 days. It might be true for some of us, but most of us have quite normal appetites, in fact we may eat even less than skinny people. Whenever we eat in public, we feel our food is under scanner from the people around us. Stare at your own food, fools!

4. Continuing from point 1, we hate all adventure sports. Our bodies are just not meant for 10 mile hikes, or climbing the Himalayas. When we can watch Himalayas on Discovery Channel (now in HD!), sipping on our cokes, why should we make an effort to climb it? We really really don't have an adventurers spirit, so don't even bother.

5. We hate taking photographs with skinny people. We don't like the fat-skinny contrast, cause it makes us feel even fatter. It is definitely an ego boost for the skinny person, but not us...sorry!

That's it I guess. This was the list of what a life is like for a fat person, and all its irritants. We basically hate everyone and everything, and would like you all to leave us alone.

Ok? Thank you. Bye!

*poof*

Love, Sex aur Dhoka - The Review

I was excited about the release of this movie for the longest time. Not a single known actor, and most importantly, the movie was shot in digital format - Security cameras, spy cams, digital video cameras - the whole shkabang. Finally, taking full advantage of the Vodafone Tuesday offer, I dragged my mum along to see the movie with me (no one else was available!)

I'm glad I took mum along with me, because anybody else would have been an irritant. She dozed off within 15 minutes of the movie, and I was caught in attention by every move the genius Dibakar Banerjee was making.

Love, Sex aur Dhoka challenges mainstream Bollywood movies, and their portryal of love. Dibakar has divided the movie into three parts, each part dedicated to love, sex and dhoka respectively, though all three parts have elements of each. All three stories and characters are interwoven with each other.

WARNING: Super Spoiler Alert. If you haven't seen the movie, don't read any further! Skip this section completely!

The first section is an out and out challenge to Bollywood's notion of love, how everything works out for the hero and heroine, against all odds. The young aspiring movie director who falls hopelessly in love with the daughter of a rich businessman, sounds cliched, doesn't it? The young man is a huge follower of the Yash Raj school of filmmaking, and his diploma movie 'Mehendi tere naam ki', is a tribute to 'Adi' Chopra. He falls in love with the lead actress so much so, that he even begins calling her Simran. So far, everything seems like the perfect Bollywood plot, even the leads begin to think so. Dibakar has juxtaposed real life versus the cotton candy Bollywood life wonderfully in the first section. However the love story ended, Dibakar simply left it on the audience to interpret and choose what life they'd like to live.

The second story is, I think, the best combination of all three parts - love, sex, aur dhoka. A broke 'MBA', a store clerk, and things that go bump in the night. What I took away from this section was that in such times, who do you trust? The person you love? Does he/she really love you? Can you let yourself go completely? Do things truly work out in the end? This part had some of the most risque dialogues and 'bold' scenes.

The third is all about 'dhoka'. A jaded dancer wants to take revenge against the Punjabi pop star Loki Local (the best performance in the movie!) who used her in exchange for an appearance in his music videos, which he never goes through with. Fate brings together the dancer and an equally jaded 'sting operation expert'. Together they plan a sting operation against the pop star. What happens next? Find out!

SPOILERS END

The movie is gritty, gripping, and brutal at times. There isn't a boring moment in the movie, it engages you from the beginning to the end. In terms of movie-making, it is truly revolutionary. It has some of the best dialogues and superb music. Dibakar has created some very memorable characters, and in my book, they are going down alongside heavyweights like Hanz Landa, Michael Corleone and Darth Vader!

It is unfortunate that Dibakar is a director from Bollywood. This movie will not be sent for Oscar consideration, nor will it receive the Filmfare for the Best Movie. He will of course be given a Critics award for his efforts, while Shah Rukh Khan laughs his way to glory and wins best of show. Sigh.

So here's 4/5 for Dibakar Banerjee's Love, Sex aur Dhoka. Watch it for pure cinematic excellence!

Sachin Tendulkar

R.I.P

My dadaji (grandfather) passed away peacefully on 11th February, 2010. We had several names for him - Grandy, Gramps, Grampa, Biscuit Baba (he loved biscuits!), and of course, dadaji.

To say his life was a struggle would be an understatement. He had seen hardships right through his childhood. But he fought through every struggle and achieved everything that he possibly could. He was the quintessential self-made man.

Dadaji had few hobbies, and the one that topped the list was research. He would spend entire days writing in his journals about his new finds and discoveries. He would rip apart relevant newspaper articles and stick them on to his journal, even before anyone else got the opportunity to have a read. He would read and write with such joy - it was something he was so passionate about. Of course then, we found this hobby a waste of time and energy, and most importantly, we weren't getting our paper to read. We would tell him to stop so many times, but he never gave up.

The second thing he was most passionate about was cricket. He loved everything about cricket. He would discuss players, scores, even stadiums at length with anyone who'd ask. When he got sick and bed ridden, he would tune his portable radio to the live cricket commentary. He would still cheer and curse whenever India performed favorably or not.

The last time I saw dadaji, I told him he was a great man. I told him I love him and I will continue to love him forever. I told him to get well soon. I wanted to see him back on his feet again. I wanted to see him reading and cutting holes through newspapers again. I wanted to see him cheering every time Sachin Tendulkar hit a six. I wanted him to tell me his stories again. I wanted to hear him cough loudly every time he brushed his teeth. I wanted to hear the shuffle of his feet when he walked. I wanted to see him tune his radio again. I wanted him to be around.

And then, on 11th February, 2010, he left the world. He left me. And he took a part of me with him.

And then, on 24th February, 2010, Sachin Tendulkar made history by becoming the first cricketer to score 200 runs in a One Dayer. While India cheered for Sachin's achievement, I cried because dadaji wasn't here to see him do that. He would have cheered wildly, and then have told us for days about what he had done.

I talk to myself a lot, and I always hear a voice talking back to me. Yesterday, I spoke to myself again - "Dadaji, you missed Sachin's 200"

A reply came back to me, but a voice I had not heard before - "You don't think they have televisions in heaven?"

I smiled a little, while tears streamed down again.

Don't Panic

..I'm still alive homies, just in case you were worried.

OR, if you thought I was gone for good, and you heaved a sigh of relief, then tough luck bitches!!!

I just took some time off to put things into perspective, plus I was in Delhi for two months, interning with this lifestyle magazine. But I'm back now. With new ideas, hopefully. Here's hoping my brain gets bombarded with new ideas about stuff to write, because without that, I am nothing!

Hope you've all been good little children, and missed me like you should have.

xoxox. Gossip girl! ;)