Vacations?

Remember your last day of school before summer vacations?

The last paper? That intense giddiness you felt while planning the months of nothingness that lay ahead?

Fifteen years ago, that was me in the classroom. I filled supplements after supplements with rubbish. I finished my paper 1 hour before time, my heart racing with each passing minute. That was me, jumping with joy as the bell rang, ending the semester and beckoning the holidays. I was that girl in the school bus, dancing and singing, loosening my tie. Reaching home, jumping on the bed and finally settling down, I would smile and think to myself "life couldn't get any better."

Fifteen years later, it's Summer vacation again. Except this time, I'm not that girl anymore.

P.S. I am thinking of shifting to wordpress or tumblr. Thoughts?

Love Letters

So this friend of mine was talking to me about her ex today, about how they were so perfect, and how they wrote each other letters, and how their letters were so wonderful. I got the opportunity to see one letter. sent by the ex to my friend. As I was reading it, I instantly felt my heart getting heavier. Dammit. I thought in my head. That letter was so, well, wonderful, and I couldn't help but think about all those letters my ex and I wrote each other.

You know those letters that just make you SIGH as loud as you can, as you read them with a cheesy smile plastered on your face? That was the kind of letters we wrote each other. As soon as I read my friends' letter, I knew I would go back and peak into my archives. I kept stopping myself... I did not need to see those again. But I did... I read those lines of poetry he wrote me... about the countless times he told me I am beautiful on days I felt I looked like crap... about the times when he apologised for fights... and of course, I don't need to count the times he said he loved me. Then I read our post break-up letters... and I felt myself welling up a bit. I knew immediately I should not have read them.

Love letters are just stupid.

P.S. I dedicate this post to you pixie girl. Everything's gonna be alright :)

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 :)

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!

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 :)

Badla!

Gah! Why the heck did I come here?

Have you ever been on a trip where you ended up thinking "Damn, I wish I hadn't gone?" Have you ever had a most pathetic trip experience? If you're one of the lucky ones whose trips have always been successes, I applaud you, and also beg you to take me along in your future trips. For the unfortunate ones like myself, read on, and empathize!

[Don't worry, I'm not talking about my Dandeli trip here. Dandeli was a blast. I want to write at length about it, that's why I have been stalling for so long!]

This particular horrid trip experience I would like to share with you happened during a 3-day visit to, hold your breath people, Badlapur. For those who don't know, Badlapur is in the Thane district of Maharashtra. In the balmy Bombay winters of 2001, our school decided to torture the 10th grade kids further by taking them to this place, by making it a compulsory attendance activity.

My parents had never allowed me to go to any school trips. And I was so excited for Badlapur, since it would be the first time I would be on my own, and my very first class trip. I happily packed all my stuff, put the film in my Kodak camera, and I was set to go! Boy, was I in store of a heck of an experience.

The journey began where we traveled to Badlapur via our school buses (!). Our principal warned us beforehand: "You must address the guides as sir, and not by their first names. Even if they tell you too. You must not give them your phone numbers. You must not be alone with them." She could have just made it short and said "We are not liable if one of you gets raped in this trip."

So there we were, all excited and stuff. I was up to my usual ass-licking the so-called popular kids, so that maybe they would give me some company during the trip. I whipped out my Kodak cam and shot a photo of the popular peeps (Maybe now they'll like me!) But it wouldn't click. Maybe it was jammed. Like the genius photographer I was then, I opened up the panel, exposing the film to sunlight. I wound it back again. But this time, the film just would not come out of the roll. Great. So I practically have no Badlapur memories to store (Thank God for that!)

We reached Badlapur in a matter of 3 hours. The girls with the trolley bags were ragged severely by the teachers (?) "Oh you're some model or what, carrying luggage like that". While I dragged my humble suitcase through the rocky terrain, I could see lines and lines of camp sites with huge tents pitched. So I guess this is where we'll be staying. It should be fun, roughing it!

All of us excitedly put our luggage near our cots. I was given the very last cot, furthest from the girls, closest to the bathroom. Oh well. I continued my ass-licking by actually offering to mist the girl's faces with this amazing mist my dad had given to me as a present. But of course, they refused. We don't use stuff like that for our grade-A skin. Oh la-di-dah! Of course, we were all in puberty, and most girls had severe acne. But, who was I to argue!

It was smooth sailing so far, when all of a sudden, we heard loud shrills coming from outside the tent. The camp instructor stood there, saying "Ok kids, time for Karate practice!" WTF? Karate? I had the most bemused look on my face as I trotted behind my classmates to the common area, where a gentleman stood, waiting to give us Karate practice. We stood in neat rows, and I was, as usual, the last person on the row. I am thankful for that, since I was wearing the tightest pants in the history of the world. As we attempted controlling our laughter over the gentleman's "Hoos and Haas", the Karate session continued. Air kicks, punches, jabs, we did it all. It was quite a grueling session.

In the evening, we were given orders to wake up at 6, as we will be going on trek. Sounded fine, I guess. We'd get to see some nature, fresh air, and the like! And we were given the warning to be there at 6 am sharp, or get punishment. Well, nice holiday, indeed! I was out of my tent at 6 am sharp, waiting for the others to show up. Slowly, everyone assembled. And the ones who were late had to do push ups. On their knuckles. Did I hear someone say military camp?

As you would have guessed by now, I used to be a very smart person. I decided to wear the tight pants again for the trek. Which, by the way, turned out not to be a trek at all. The guides made us run on an uphill climb. If life wasn't humiliating for us already, the fatties like me who were lagging behind were hit on their asses by a stick. Lovely. And then their was the run back down, which was fairly easy.

Post shower, I felt some uneasiness. I checked out my thighs - they were full of painful red bumps. I hollered, and cried, and screamed in pain. And since I was sooo popular, everyone attended to my beck and calls. In my dreams, of course! Then happened a 'river crossing' activity, which had no river. The students had to climb a ladder, hang upside down and cross to the other ladder. Fun. I didn't partake in this activity, since I didn't want the kids to have another reason to laugh at me.

To conclude this exciting trip, on the last day we were taken to a water purification plant so we could see how water is purified. Wow. Just what a 15 year old gets excited over. The happiest part of the trip for me was the ride back home. Mummy, I missed you!

Now, I am not dissing Badlapur. It's a nice place to visit. I'm dissing my stupid trip, with stupid memories!

Do you have any such stories to share?! Post a comment, I would love to know!

Photo courtesy: Gettyimages

Let's hit the mall!

If you didn't know this already, I love the mall. It is the best place to go to, and it caters to people of all kind. So what to do when you're really hungry at the mall? Hit the food court!! However, after close observation of the people who do visit the food court, I find it very simple to club them into groups. They are as follows:

1. The family: They arrive in huge packs - from dada-dadi, nana-nani to the one month old hanging from pappa's arm, they all come to celebrate family togetherness. They represent Karan Johar's 'Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham' to the T...it's all about loving the family after all!

Food court behaviour: They club twenty tables together and order food from every possible destination, usually creating a big mess. The children run around the tables, screaming, throwing tantrums. This group usually takes the longest to finish their meals.

2. The lovers: They have eyes only for each other. They occupy tables at the food court's most secluded spots, the khopcha corner. Loud sighs, girly giggles abound. It's just the two of them in the mall, and no one else apparantly matters!

Food court behaviour: They don't order individual meals (if at all!). It's just one plate of whatever (usually chaat, as I've observed!) which they lovingly feed each other with a plastic spoon. This group usually does not leave their tables till the girl gets an angry phone call from mummy asking her where she is.

3. The 'happy fraandsip day' teens: These arrive in huge packs too, twenty to thirty at a time. This group comes to the mall/food court only on special occasions like fraansip day, which is probably the most important day in their lives.

Food court behaviour: This group clubs tables together as well, and usually show up at rush hour. They don't order any food, and just sit around writing 'happy fransip day' with markers on each other's hands and tying the fransip bands. They are even louder than The Family, and twice as annoying.

4. The extremely broke teens: These arrive in a tiny group, maximum four. They come just to the food court for some respite from their mundane school/college lives, but they are too broke to afford anything above Rs. 20/-

Food court behaviour: They will all sit at only one table and will share one thing between all of them. This is usually steamed corn or a cup of ice-cream. Money is shared, and the person who pays constantly reminds everyone that they owe him/her Rs. 10.50/-

5. The Cynics: This is the category I belong to. They are cynical of everything and everyone around them, and look at each and every person with cynicism.

Food court behaviour: They only stick to their kind, and comment on each and every person in the mall. They have an opinion on everyone. Some usually write about their observations in a blog.

Much like this one.

I can't think a good title for this post, but you should read it anyway cause it's going to be funny.

In my second year at Mithibai college, I was blessed to be in the presence of a professor called Mr. B (I am not going to reveal his identitity cause there might be people from Mithibai reading this!)

He 'taught' us a subject called Fundamental Concept, which was basically a good class to attend if you have insomnia. Sleep was guarenteed. He would basically drone on about our Human Rights and Freedoms and Duties. Don't get me wrong, the subject is very interesting. But Mr. B had his own method of teaching. He would basically come to class and recite a whole chapter out loud and leave. No scope for questions, cause he didn't even breathe in the middle while he recited.

However, there was something very peculiar about Mr B. He had a full head of red hair. Not natural, of course. The red that came from really bad henna. The colour was inconsistent too. Somewhere it was red, behind his ears it was orange and at the nape of his neck, his hair was white. It was like a lunar eclipse when he would show up in class. And for those who bothered to attend, they would be subject to 40 minutes of droning, and watching his shiny red hair.

One day, I made a decision to *finally* attend his class (not having done so before). So he entered, and began his usual 'teaching'. I stifled a yawn, trying to protect my eyes from his hair. Out of nowhere, a joke crept in to my mind, and I had the urge to immediately share this joke with RadRid, who would sit next to me. I scribbled something on her notebook and passed it to her.

She read the contents and giggled. Now Mr B, who is usually oblivious of what is happening around him, looked up from his book and saw her giggling.

"Yes, what is the matter?"
I froze, so did RadRid.
"Uhh...Nothing sir!"
"Show me the book"
Crap.Crap.Crap. That's all my mind could think.

So he took the notebook and went back to his desk. He read the contents too.
"Oh, so it's a joke about me." he said in an uninterested voice.
RadRid and I were sweating bullets at this point.

And then, he did something that I never imagined he would. He read the joke out loud.

"Why did the students run away from Mr B's class?
Because it was declared Red Alert"

As you can imagine, the class imediatelly broke into laughter (I was quite surprised so many were in class! Usually his lectures had only 4-5 people!) Mr B wasn't laughing, with good reason. I apologised immediately, but he just shrugged.

I thought we'd be told to leave class, or our attendance would be cancelled. But nothing like that happened. He just returned the book to RadRid and resumed his class. And he didn't take any action against us after this incident.

But he did take one action regarding the joke.

He stopped colouring his hair.

IGGY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!!!

Joey: Hey, hey, hey, hey. Look. I take a girl out, she can order whatever she wants! The more, the better! All right? Just don’t order a Garden salad and then eat my food! That’s a good way to lose some fingers!
(Rachel enters from the main door)
Phoebe: (to Rachel) Oh
Rachel: Hi
Phoebe: Thank God you’re here. Listen to this!
Rachel: what?
Phoebe: Joey and my friend were out last night and having dinner and she reaches over and takes a few of his fries...
Rachel: Oh! Oh, no!
(Joey looks satisfied)
Phoebe: What? You know about the plate thing?
Rachel: Oh, yeah. Joey doesn’t share food. I mean, just last week we were having breakfast and he had a couple of grapes on his plate and ...
Phoebe: (to Joey) You wouldn’t let her have a grape?
Rachel: Oh no! Not me! Emma!
(Phoebe looks horrified and she turns to watch Joey)
Joey: (mad and pointing a finger to himself) JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD!

[EDIT: HAD TO TAKE THIS OFF. SORRY!]

My first kiss

12. 03. 2008
Marine Drive, Bombay

I want to remember everything about today. Nothing should be erased from my mind.

The way he smiled when he first saw me. The beautiful flowers he gave me. How awkward it felt, and how we slowly eased in. How he laughed when I gave him imaginary low blows and slaps. The short time we spent at Anda Pav, sharing an Anda Pav, and sipping on our cutting chais. How embarrassing it was when all the girls barged in to see us together. How sweet he looked when he was flipping through the scrapbook I gave him. How we ran out and got a cab to Marine Drive.

Marine Drive. -sigh-. The Pizza I just could not eat. Him staring at me...telling me over and over how beautiful I am. Me getting so embarrassed and getting red in the face. Him telling me I look even more beautiful when I blush. Me blushing even more.

"I just can't help it...you're just so mesmerising..." Me hiding my face between my hands, him telling me I still look beautiful. Me getting goosebumps, butterflies...everything.

Us walking around Marine Drive, sharing the brownie. That spark I felt everytime our arms brushed against each other. Him looking at me. Me looking at him. Me wanting to tell him "I love you" so bad. Him pushing me. Me pushing him. Him telling me, "Look at me. When I say you're beautiful, I really mean it. And...I love you." Me getting tongue tied and unable to speak. Looking at my feet while he walked next to me. Thinking about how I should say it back to him.

Us sitting there. So close. Us playing footsie. Him sheepishly putting his arm around me. "It hurts my arm if I rest it here...Can I put it around your shoulder?"

"I just wan to say...I love you," I said. "I love you too."

Him coming close to me. Really close. My heart beating like crazy. Me running my fingers over his arm..running them over each vein. "You've got really soft hands"

Us linking our fingers with each other. Him looking at him. Me looking at his lips. Him looking at mine. "What you looking at?" I asked. "Your sultry lips. I bet they're really soft."

There was just the two of us. The world didn't matter. No worries. No troubles. Just us. His lips so close to mine, just about to touch. And then, they did. In a magnetic, soft, just right kiss. His lips pressing against mine. Me forgetting to close my eyes, and then closing them. Him biting my lower lip, and pulling out, looking at me. Kissing me again, harder this time. Pulling out again. Running his fingers over my lips, my chin. Pulling me in to another kiss. His beard pressing against my skin, tickling me. Me wanting the kiss to go on forever...but he pulls out again, for the last time.

And then, he was gone.

"I will, return...
Yes I, will return.
I'll come back, for the honey,

and you..."

What a week!

What a week!

Wait a minute, let me rephrase that:

WHAT A WEEK!

Right now, I am a mixture of sleepy and angry, and I don't know what the feeling is called, but I'm sure as hell feeling it. I have not updated my blog in ages, the last being a tag, which can not really be considered a post...but I digress. Let's just get back to my terribly pathetic week.

First, I have come to the understanding that I have made the biggest mistake of my life by working where I do right now. The place stands for everything I am against. Corporate atmosphere has always made me puke, then what the hell am I doing here? We're basically answerable to various 'Gora' multinationals, and this fact makes me angrier than ever. I never thought I would be here, but still, I am.

And do you know what I do there for 8.30 am to 6.00pm everyday since I joined? Play games all day, read Calvin and Hobbes, Asterix and Tintin (Occasionally India Today and Cosmopolitan). Yup. Everyday. And I get paid for it.

I know, I know, this sounds like a dream job, but not to me. You'd feel the same if you were sitting in one place reading comics all day, while everyone else is working. My neighbours look at me with eyes wide open as I spend all day flipping through comic books. I take occasional naps too, which is probably a sin in the corporate environment. At this point, I don't really even care!

Second, I don't know why, but I have been really really sleepy lately. I can barely keep my eyes open post 9:30pm, which sucks. I can't understand why this is happening, cause I don't have any physical activity going on, except gymming. Hmm.

Third, on Tuesday, dad's car met with an accident. We're safe, Thank God, but the car is a mess. A bus rammed into the car, and the driver's side is wrecked. Dad couldn't even open the door on his side. And you know what the bus driver did? He just sped away. That too in front of the traffic police man, who was so busy scratching his balls that he did not even have time to look up to see what had happened. Such is life. Grr.

Fourth, my father's colleague and close friend passed away at 4:00 in the morning today. I could see my dad was pretty shaken up, and I have never seen him this way. My usually happy, laughing, joking dad was solemn and quiet today. On our way back home I tried to cheer him up, but nothing was happening. I feel really bad for him. He's already so stressed, and this certainly does not help. But I feel even sadder for the family who lost a father and a husband. R.I.P

I think the crux of my troubles is my job. I am planning to quit, but times are so bad these days, I don't even know what to do. I can't leave unless I have some other job in my hand. Sigh. What to doooooooooooooooooooooo!!!

...In which I am confused for a "famous" movie star

{True Story}

I was coming home from work yesterday, when the 'auto-wallah-bhaiyya' struck up a conversation with me. This is how it went.

Characters:
Iggy: Me
Auto-wallah-bhaiyya: Him

Setting:
Open roads, no traffic, Iggy is being dropped home by Auto-wallah-bhaiya.

Scene I, Act I:

Auto-wallah-bhaiyya: Aaj trafic bahut kam hai (Traffic is very less today)
Iggy: Haan..Aaj chutti hai, is liye (Yeah, today is a holiday, that's why)
A-w-b: Parso itna traffic jam tha, SV road se yahan aane tak Rs 40 lag gaye (The traffic was so bad day-before, It took Rs 40 to come from SV road to this point)
I: Baap re! (OMG!)
A-w-b: {Laughs}
I: {Grins}
A-w-b: Madam, aap filmon me kaam karti ho na? (Madam, you work in movies, don't you?)
I: {Eyes open in shock} Nahi! (No!)
A-w-b: Achcha. Mujhe aisa laga ki maine aapko filmon me dekha hai. (Oh. I thought I had seen you in the movies)

Scene I, Act II:

I: {Excitedly} Waise, aapne mujhe kaunsi film me dekha hai? (By the way, which film have you seen me in?)
A-w-b: Arre woh film aati thi na..jisme aap college me the..aap moti si {Cue the fat person arms thing*} Sabki dost banti thi? (That film..in which you were in colege..fat..you used to be everyone's friend)
I: {Excitement dies. Cue depression} Guddi Maruti?
A-w-b: Haaan! Wohi! Aap bilkul waise dikhti ho. (Yes! Her! You look exactly like her)
I: Uhhh...Thank you? {Raise eyebrow here}

Scene I, Act III:

{Awkward pause}

I: Guddi Maruti abhi Buddhi Maruti ho gayi hai (Guddi Maruti is old now)
A-w-b: {Laughter}

Fin
Curtains
----

*Life Lessons from The Iggylicious:

{sarcasm}

What is the fat person arms thing?: During communication, when someone wants to denote that a person is fat, he or she does the fat person arms thing. This is very useful in case the person he or she is communicating with is deaf and cant understand he or she is talking about a fat person.

Example:
John Doe: 'Sup Deaf Bob. Did you hear about Fat Fucker?
Deaf Bob: What? I can't hear you.
John Doe: Fat Fucker, dude!
Deaf Bob: What?
John Doe: (moves his arms like a turkey) FAT FUCKER!
Deaf Bob: Oh! Fat Fucker! Yeah. He's a slutface.

That brings us to an end to this episode of Life Lessons from The Iggylicious.

Go fuck yourself!
{/sarcasm}

Sorry!

Hello everyone!
Sorry I haven't been able to post in a while, my computer has gone all PMSey on me! I will post as soon as my computer is fixed! (Hopefully, today!)

I am writing this post from my office, which is very hard to do, since 90% of the internet is blocked. As my friend Mudoh once told me, "Are you in China or what?!"

Well, since I am able to post, I would like to wish everyone a very Happy Diwali and a Prosperous New Year. I have taken a lot of Diwali photos, which will be posted soon for you all to see.

Hmm...what else is new? Yes, MDT has been receiving a lot of hits! Interesting! I guess my teenage years were not as bad as I thought they were. Hey, at least they make for a good read! (I think/pray/hope!)

That's all from me for now. Promise to post soon!
Love and Luck,
ME!

-le sigh-

I went to the mall with my bestest friend in the whole wide world today. She gets me like no other person can. She knows everything about me, even what I'm thinking at the exact moment. Anyway, back to the mall.

So we were at the food court, and I was idly playing with a french fry (I'm still bummed out) and she pokes me.
"What?" I say, popping the fry in my mouth.
"Don't look now, but there's a gorgeous specimen of the male species on the table to your left."

I rolled my eyes. You see, her tastes in men are vastly different from mine. She's more tall, dark and handsome. I'm more tall, skinny and long hair. So as I attempted to turn to my left, I never expected to see what I saw.

It was an actual, live specimen of a gorgeous male!

He was sitting there in a white ganji and a brown cargo-bermuda type thing (what are they called?) with brown sandals looking all uber cool and relaxed. My first impression -- hmm..seems like those guys from the gym. Brawn, no brain. I turned back to my best friend (henceforth to be known as RadRid).

She pokes me again.
"What!?" I say, looking at her.
She doesn't really say anything, but wiggles her eyebrows, so I turn to him again.

I gasped and almost fell of the seat.

He was reading.
A book.
Not Playboy.
Not Maxim.
Not even Vogue (which eliminated the fact that he might be gay!)
He was reading a real-life book.

"Ok, I must be dreaming, cause this is my dream guy!" I said, staring at him dreamily.

"You should talk to him" RadRid said.
"Yeah right..I think we should just leave!" and so we did!

So we were in Crossword looking at some CDs. RadRid was checking something out as I picked one myself. As I got up, who do I see standing behind RadRid? Mr. Gorgeous himself.

I can't stop smiling! RadRid looks at me, and now it's my turn to wiggle my eyebrows. She turns back, looks and him and then looks at me.

"You're retarded," she says.

"Whatever!" I sigh happily.

That's why I believe in Karma.
And I am also going to have happy dreams tonight.
Many many happy dreams!

My Diary as a Teenager (Or just, MDT)

Consecutive post, yay!

Ok, so I was rummaging through my junk yesterday (I sometimes clean when I'm bummed out. Read post below) and I came across a very ancient notebook, which used to be my diary as a teenager. This was probably my only successful diary, written from the first page to the last. I guess the 'teen angst' had to come out somewhere, and my diary is testament to that. It contained everything: love, hate, anger, jealously..you name the emotion, it had it! I thought it'd be a fun idea to share it with you, oh reader. The stuff isn't really that personal, so I'm not calling for public humiliation in any case! So here goes! My diary as a teenager..

P-R-I-V-A-T-E

Take a peak, if you seek
to be pulverated.
Take a peek, if you seek
to be exterminated.
The book contains stuff not meant for you to see..
So don't just scoff and turn the page with glee.

This diary belongs to Supriya Joshi

19th November, 2002

Dear Diary,
Hi! Watsup? This is my very first diary and I'm gonna write all I can and whatever's on my mind.

Ok, there's this guy I know (let's call him Rambo). He's a really nice guy. Very sweet! I think I'm in love!

But there's another thing. Guess who I saw yesterday? (Instert name of boy I had a crush on forever..let's call him McGumbo) AAAHHH!!! He was looking soooooooooo hot! But he never looked at me and I never called him also :(. C'mon! I didn't wear proper clothes! I was in my track pants! I looked DUMB! But I miss him...I wanna kiss his lovely lips, hug him. But it's not possible. I'm fat and ugly. GOD! I hate my self-image :(.

Anyways, I got to colour my hair! YIPEEEEEEE! My hair's red now, but it's hardly noticeable. So sad! But at least they're coloured!

Ok diary, I'll see ya tomorrow!

Hugs and kisses,
Supriya

Those were the days, weren't they? Where life revolved around cute guys and you got excited over red hair.

Wait. Not much has changed even today!

To be continued.

Blah

I cried today. And no, it wasn't the soft, silent kind, where just a single tear-drop falls from your eyes. It was full on, full blown crying, and that too in public. I've cried like this after a span of two months.

I don't really know why I do the things I do. What's wrong with me? Even when I was crying, I was telling myself, you're an idiot. Am I expecting things to change just because I keep persisting? Do I think everything will be back to what it was just because I keep on doing what I do?

Ok reader, by now you're totally lost, and you don't know what I'm talking about. (But if you do, you need to be applauded). Let me just give you a hint. This relates to the X. 'Nuff said.

I know YOU think I only write negative things about YOU, but this is not negative at all, cause this is not YOUR fault. But if YOU feel bad, sorry.

On a happier note, I'm having pepperoni pizza tonight. Yay! Ok, I know, Pizza isn't exactly health food, but I'm bummed right now and I need junk food in my system. 'Nuff said.

I know I haven't updated in a while, but I will soon! Some surprises are coming soon!

Cheers!

The other 'C' word

Chubby cheeks,

Dimpled chin,

Rosy lips, teeth within,

Curly hair, very fair,

Eyes are blue, lovely too.

Teacher's pet, is that you?

Yes, Yes, Yes!

No! No! No!

That's the thought that comes to my mind everytime I think of this nursery rhyme. You see, as long as I can remember, I have been associated with this song. Let me elaborate:

1. Chubby cheeks : Check.

2. Dimpled chin: Check.

3. Rosy lips: Check.

4. Teeth within: Check.

5. Curly hair: Check.

6. Very fair: Check.

7. Eyes are blue: Let's change blue to brown, ok?

8. Lovely too: Mmm..Check.

9. Teacher's pet, is that you?: Hell no! no! no!

The way I am brings about two reactions from people (usually strangers); either extreme shock/disgust/repulse or at the other end of the spectrum; a feeling of fondness. I have been called names that would send a normal man spiralling into depression (but since I'm used to it, I've gotten stronger and unconcerned). But if there is one word that kills me a little whenever someone calls me that is:

cute.

cute.

cute.

cute.

cute.

CUTE! CUTE! CUTE!

Ahem. Now that that is out of my system, let me explain myself. Ever since I was young, that is the word that has always been associated with me. Aunties/uncles/grannies call me cute, my friends call me cute, heck, even young kids call me cute.

And cute also comes in a package deal, by the way. If you're cute, your cheeks will be pinched by a multitude of people. "Ooooooooh choo cuttttttteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" *pinches cheek violently* If you think about it, isn't cheek pinching/pulling a form of molestation? You violate my personal space by touching me without consent. Think about it. And oh yeah, just to be clear, cheek pinching hurts like a BITCH.

I also consider being called cute an insult. Why can't you call me beautiful or pretty? Please reserve 'cute' for humans below the age of 10. Not 22-year-old women.

So, if you've seen Pamela Anderson's film Barb Wire, where she says "Don't call me babe", just remember...

Don't call me cute.