A rose by any other name…

He loved her.

He loved her not.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




The petals of the pink rose were quickly diminishing.




Was it a wise idea to gauge the authenticity of his feelings by trusting the number of petals in a flower?




What if one had dropped by itself before he had handed it to her?




Too bad. That’s a chance she would have to take.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




Tweet Tweet… Tweet Tweet SMS…




Blank message.




He said blank messages meant he was thinking of her and missed her.



Of that she had no doubt.

She knew she made a difference to his life.



As had he.




But love?

Now that was a little dubious.



And if she be permitted, scary.




Love hurt, and she’d learnt her lesson not so long ago.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




Tring Tring…




“Hey babes, what you doing?”

“Nothing much. What you up to?”

“I’m missing you. Just thought you should know.”




He loved her.



And she didn’t need rose petals to prove that.

Ordained By Order

Did I tell you I saw Eat, Pray and Love (referred to as EPL henceforth on my blog) directed by Ryan Murphy ? It’s a fantastic movie, guys. I mean girls.

(Guys may or may not like it for the simple reason that the genders think, feel and expect differently. And more often than not, the sexes just LOVE being on opposite sides of the discussion. Sometimes only to prove that they are unlike each other, and can never be like each other. Fair enough reason.)

(Or so I presume.)


While watching EPL, there were so many times when I thought it was somewhere related to Me! Especially the paragraphs when the protagonist feels she has control issues, her tryst with depression and loneliness, her random insights and careless abandon, little joys coupled with frustrating worries and sorrows. Have been thinking of it for ages, but procrastinating… Waiting for a partner, dealing with a busy schedule, stuff like that… Soon soon…


What’s the movie about? It’s the story of a woman who travels Italy, India and Indonesia over the period of a year in order to put back the pieces of her life married and scarred by a divorce and broken relationship. I know it doesn’t sound too innovative, but the narration is superb and mesmerizing.


I’m not gonna recommend it to you, though, coz I have a feeling that I have liked it more than you would. It’s like those movies, you know, where your evaluation of the entertainment quotient is impacted by the reviews you have heard before.

Now that I have introduced EPL, I’d like to take my identification with it

About reasons, and how we may or may not know about their logic or existence.

I always enjoy sitting next to the driver while going for long drives.(But love to drive someday)

Why am I telling you this? To let you know that I like being NOT in control, and leaving all the decisions and responsibility to someone else who is intelligent and capable. Makes me feel pampered and relaxed. Not having to worry about the brakes, traffic, accelerator, clutch, reversing and parking. Just look around at the people and trees zooming past, enjoying the breeze on my face, with my arm strung casually on the window ledge...

However, I’m just as quick to give up my passivity and assume control when required. Leadership roles beckon me, and I love them for granting me the opportunity to prove myself, protect and guide people, take risks and learn, garner praise and envy.

Well, backseat driving is horrible when I’m steering a vehicle, but impossible to give up when I’m sailing on anyone else’s ship. Change lanes, speed up, show off or get cranky – and you’ll hear from me, Mr. Driver.

WHY am I telling you this?

To tell you that I have control issues. Things have almost ALWAYS gone my way. I have made my own decisions, done my own thing and taken care of my own challenges. Be it education, career, relationships, or anything else. And that has naturally made me resistant to being dependent and dominated. In a woman, this is often not appreciated. But hey, that’s how I am. I don’t know about Nature (genetics), but Nurture (environment and experiences) made me that way.

And you know what, I am so glad life turned out the way it did. (Though I didn’t always think this way.)

Thank you, Lord.

Now I think about it all, and I can’t be grateful enough that all these things occurred, with or without my volition. Then, I fought with god, people and circumstances. But now I understand. Things are not always clear at first glance. Things don’t always look right when you’re in the midst of muck. But when you step out and think about it in retrospect, you will realize that things happened for the best.

(Unless you really messed up big time and made a mistake that’s irredeemable.)

Don’t get disoriented and distressed because of the blur. Give the haze time to fade. (But don’t wait so long that all ways to set things right are lost; time is of the essence, remember?)

So what if it’s a cliché? Its true - whatever happens, happens for the best.

And you may not always understand or agree with the reason, but hey… wait and watch, you’ll turn out fine.

Trust me.

Karma Konnection

It’s said that souls are born with human bodies after they commit a given number of good deeds. It’s supposed to be a blessing of the highest order to be born human. And more so, if you’re born in India. Didn’t know that, did you?


Additionally, some people know exactly what they will do/be, either at someone else’s behest or their own vision. So, I see folks who are sure they will be doctors or housewives and nothing else, and I see people who want to travel the world for as long as they live. And it’s lovely to have that knowledge. At least I find it exciting and inspiring.


But I know of other people who would rather discover their calling as they traipse their varied paths. They say knowing beforehand what one is born to do isn’t really motivating. Rather, they’d prefer to experiment and try different things before they freeze on a particular line to pursue as a career/purpose. To explore and identify for themselves their reason for being, as opposed to being born with the erudite information. Or having it thrust upon them, where they have no choice…


Even my schoolmates and peers who knew they wanted to be engineers and accordingly molded their careers in the most apt ways. B.E. then MS abroad followed by jobs and weddings. Life set.


While I was open to checking out the options and then making my selection. So, I thought about going in for Commerce .At least it’s my personal choice and I won’t regret it later. And if I do, I’ll blame nobody but myself.


So, which life is better? The one where you know, or the one where you don’t?


Is it better to meet your soul-mate right in school and stay together for life, or to meet a range of people from all walks of life and then choose your partner?


Is it preferable to work in your family business and go the secure way your ancestors trod, or to go from one company to the next, searching for the job where your heart, growth and interest lies?


Providence makes about 60% of the decision. The rest is upto you. And 40% isn’t peanuts.

I remember I’ve asked mum several times why we’re referred to as masters of our own actions when we really are just slaves to our destiny and past actions. How can we possibly claim that WE did something, wouldn’t it be more apt that LUCK made us do that thing? That it was pre-destined to be done that way? That the Almighty wrote our naseeb – every event and action in it, the moment we were born on this earth?


There are days when everything is just so right. We wake up in the morning feeling cheerful and relaxed for no reason, and we welcome the day with arms wide open. And as we live through the day, our spirits continue to soar high irrespective of the ups and downs we face. There are also days that are just the opposite. We wake up morose, and whatever happens throughout the day only serves to annoy us further and drag us deeper into the dumps. Who do we hold responsible for this? Who do we turn to, to change what is taking place?


Let me know if you know.


Cheers, and good luck with your ambitions!

Washroom chronicles

And this time, here’s a sneak peek into the woman’s private zone…

Are you excited yet?


Well, if you think what’s so great about a woman’s lavatory, think again.

(In fact, if you DO think that there’s nothing special about a woman’s restroom, it’s all the more reason for you to read this post. Brush up on your GK, dude!! Dobara mat poochna!!)


For women, a washroom is not merely a place to freshen up, but an essential part of living… If walls had ears, the restroom walls would have been a part of the Guinness World Records for holding the most secrets…


Women crying.

Women gossiping.

Women sniggering.

Women discussing latest fashion.

Women reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

Women experimenting with new looks and make up.


I haven’t mentioned half the list yet…

Now do you see?


Now, again you would think why I’m sharing all this with you non-members of this private and beautiful zone. Am I not a woman who loves this space? I do, which is why I’m showing you just how important and exciting this place is…

Why else would a woman excuse herself to go to the washroom the minute she steps into a home, restaurant, office or club?

Men don’t do that, do they? At least not the (comparatively) macho ones that I know…


So, women obviously sit on the pot as they chat with their friends and boyfriends, either bitching or whispering sweet nothings.

Or they could be wailing coz someone shouted on them for something that was frivolous (according to them). Maybe a boyfriend giving them grief. Or coz they were feeling unwell and some supervisor acted rude and insensitive. No dearth of reasons to cry – we’re women after all!


The powder room, as it is also called at times, is a must visit for any woman who enters a pub or workplace. (Or anywhere for that matter)

Staring at themselves for hours in the mirror. Curling their already curled (or straightened) hair. Lining their eyes with mascara for the tenth time in 10 minutes. Painting their already shining lips. Peering at marks (both visible and invisible, real and imaginary) on the face and elsewhere. Adjusting accessories or the dupatta or the t-shirt… And once all of this done, staring at themselves from top to bottom again – a quick check to see if everything’s in order.

Being a woman isn’t an easy job, fellas! It’s a lot of hard work…

And I bet you don’t mind when you see the great outcome that steps outta the washroom. Worth the wait, right?

The venue is also a breakout zone for a gang of giggly girls who want to catch up on lost time and updates. Like who’s dating whom, who fought with whom, what’s the masala in the work world and movie world.

I know this is taking it too far, but once I even saw a girl sipping coffee as she chatted up her pals in the washroom! Takes the cake, eh? LOL.


Well, well… Women who are taking offence, pardon me. But I honestly don’t understand the concept of wasting time in the loo. The loo is meant for a particular purpose, one that I often finish in less than a minute. And when I see chics spending a good 15 minute break at work in the loo… It kinda surprises and amuses me.

And we laugh on…

I've got Lal Bal, Pal !

Breaking News!!

I streaked my hair... Had them streaked at a parlour I mean... (It's also called highlighting, for those who don't know.) Which means I now have strands of red hair (not the fire-van red, it's a maroonish kinda tinge,similar to this picture ) on my crown . It ain't done as abundantly as I'd planned, but no sweat - I'm happy! :-)

Waise I am a very simple girl... And I feel all the more frugal when I see women around me dressing up for college everyday. (How will lining and kohl-ing your eyes and painting your lips help you be efficient and effective ) Of course, I tend to go overboard with my minimalism; even for parties, all I do is apply some earthy kajal and I'm all set, even as my gal-buddies blow-dry and iron their hair, paint their barn with foundation and rouge, color their eyes in dazzling blues and pinks, and outline their glossy lips. Whew! Each to their own; I inherited my no-nonsense-no-makeup attitude from my mum. But well, she is an angel to look at, whereas I could do with some help...

Anywaysssssssss...

While the hairdresser was Loreal-ing my tresses, I glanced through the numerous issues of Femina, Filmfare and other mags stacked on the counter. I read Sallu's cool-dude comments on his paintings and his hostility towards Shahrukh, I checked out fashion scares Mithun-da and Sonam Kapoor, and I read gossip about Hrithik and Barbara (Kites), Shahid and Amrita Rao (I thought she was going to get married and happily quit acting), etc.

I set hands on a Woman's Era magazine (November issue, I think), and staring at me out of the front cover were the words - HOW TO GET YOUR MAN TO TALK (or something to that effect.)

For ages I have been pondering over this very subject - why men gel so well and chat for hours with their buddies and colleagues and neighbors and roomies, but recoil every time their wife/girlfriend asks them to "talk" to her.

So, this article seemed God-sent, and I glanced through the words I've murmured a million times : Why men consider monosyllabic replies and grunts as perfect conjugal conversations, why they find nothing wrong in reading the newspaper as their disgruntled lady makes their chai / coffee in the kitchen, why a women's expression of her feelings or need to resolve relationship problems bores and irritates and annoys them, and so on and so forth.


Of course, the article did not answer these queries in anything more than a gender differences way; the usual "genders are wired differently" solution. However, reading the statements there assured me that I am not the only one who broods over these topics. The writer went on to relate how you can get a man to talk... And these ways are : just sit with him quietly (ahem!) and observe/understand as he goes about his tasks and activities, ask him about cars/bikes/politics/sports/gadgets or anything else that he's passionate about, avoid talking about his family, and the sort.


Nothing akin to rocket science, and all quite do-able, but my question is HOW LONG? You can do something a few times, and it's not unnatural to expect that the other person will also go a little out of the way to ease things... Taali ek haath se nahi bajti dost! You can rave on and on about gender differences and not head anywhere, and you can both understand and try to make things wonderful... Not impossible, right?!!

Anywayssss..My sister was looking like a Star on her wedding, everything went well . Most people from my school, college and family circle was happy with the Preparations they gave the Newly- Wed couple there blessings .
Good for them. Not good for me coz I hate these family dos. Compound it with the fact that there are horny old men lurking about and trying to grab a handful of you as they stare at your boobs and talk about stupid things. Grrr... It's all I can do to stop myself from slapping them... And then when some woman comes and starts inquiring about your profession as if she is planning to propose a billion-dollar business deal...

Time out.

Happy weekend!

10 Things

Just been thinking about this...

Here are 10 things I would say to my girl, if I was a guy...

1. Look at her in a dreamy-eyed way and say, "You're gooooorgeous, woman! I can't take my eyes off you..."

2. "I'll always be there for you honey."

3. "Sweetheart, you have made me the luckiest man on this planet by loving me."

4. "I care for you baby."

5. "I feel incomplete without you... Can I hug you forever?"

6. "Man! I'd be damned if you weren't by my side."

7. When she's smiling/laughing, "I love to see you happy."

8. "Your wish is my command, princess."

9. "I'm dying to see you, my angel."

10. "I missssss you :-( "

... And more importantly, 10 things I would NEVER ever say...

1. "What have you ever done for me?"

2. "Why don't you make some coffee as I read the newspaper in the other room?"

3. "Can we talk later? I want to watch the football/cricket match."

4. "The gang's going out so I won't be able to come for your convocation/party."

5. "You ruined my life. I wish we'd never met!"

6. "His girlfriend is a babe! Love the way she dances/dresses/talks."

7. "You were with me just for my money."

8. "Couldn't you wear something better?" OR "You look funny/horrible/OK."

9. "You don't satisfy me."

10. "Call me after you stop crying" OR "Meet me after your problems are sorted out."

You're welcome :-)

I am me .

As I watch the waves I think,
About the person I am,
So what if I feel a particular way?
Am I to hold it back like a dam?

The sandy beach reminds me,
Life isn't always the same;
Some of the sand jumps for the tide,
And some remains stable and tame.

So what if I get upset over things that appear trivial?
For me, nothing's a silly game...

The sun sets low on the horizon,
Conveying, relax, it all ends one day;
Why then with any realization,
Do the tears come and my composure sway?

I have my goods and bads,
I'm generous, assertive and guileless;
I am what I am,
And whoever said one has to be flawless?

I get attached to people the very first time I meet them,
So what?

I keep smiling with or without reason,
So what?

I'm possessive and rude when provoked,
So what?

I feel betrayed and hurt when those that I love,
Adore something else more than me;
Their passion, ego or a plaything,
Even their family.

I do unreasonable, absurd things,
Like wanting those that don't want me.

I'm responsible and protective,
And I hate the fact that I'm so sensitive...

They call me stubborn and self-centred,
Though they know of my jolly, sweet nature,
Doesn't bother me... Whoever wants to please them all...
Not me for sure!

Or do I??

What matters finally
Is that I know I'm wonderful,
I know my weaknesses,
And that's my greatest strength...

I am me...

Always

You are my mom, sister, enemy, 
and will always be a friend. 
You will always be the only one never forgotten. 
Through thick and thin, 
we were always together even if we didn’t always want to be. 

You showed me the most compassion when less expected. 
I love you and went to you when I knew I shouldn’t have, 
and then I suffered the consequences, 
but so did you.

You've always been there,
making sure I was o.k.
The one that helped me be,
the kind of person I am today.
I'll never be able to repay you,
for all that you have done for me.
Knowing that I'd need someone,
when I'd fall and scrape my knee.


You are my big sister,
one that I admire most.
I will always be thankful,
having a sister like you makes me boast.
Not to mention those times,
when boys were boys.
And you were always the first one,
to help me regain my poise.
You were my mom, sister, enemy, 
and will always be a friend 
because blood will always be thicker than water. 
You are my blood, part of me, 
and I love you for that.


Now you're getting married,
and your life will soon be complete.
But I will always come to you,
whenever I feel defeat.

So this is my attempt,
at thanking you for what you've done.

my sister :)
 

To My Marshmallow

How do I feel when I am with you?

Lovely.

Complete.

Protected.

Special.

Content.

What do you do to make me feel this way?

At times, something.

Most of the times, nothing at all.

I just feel that way coz I love you and I can sense your love if not directly experience it at a given moment.

I just put my head on your shoulder and I forget all the worries and sorrows in the world.

Cuddled in your arms, I hear your heart beating against my palm, and time comes to a standstill.

I can’t stop smiling as I look at you coz I’m struck by the fact that I love you like crazy.

And I think of the way you look at me, and I know you love me too…

Isn’t it beautiful, this thing that we have?

So what if we fight? So what if there are times when we can’t bear each other? So what if we’ve often contemplated going our separate ways?

We’re still together… Still going strong…

You have the power to make me feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet, and you can also make me feel stupid and helpless. I effortlessly label you a complete jerk, and my trust in you can help you move mountains.

If not love, what is it?

We’re both learning. We’re both growing. As individuals and a couple. And there’s tons more to come. A zillion more experiences in the wings, waiting for us to embrace them and come out stronger.

Closer.

Inseparable.

The simplest of things that I do with you become my most cherished moments.

The way you tease me and I poke fun at your mannerisms and habits. The funny things we say to each other in fights and tricky situations… It’s all so adorable.

Unforgettable.

I love you.

Will it last?

I think so.

Relations die. Love never does.

So what if you irritate me by acting silly? So what if I stress you by asking for more than you think you can do? So what if we want to pull out each others’ hair for crazy reasons?

We’re still together…

And I know we can live through this.

Isn’t that what love is all about?

True, things won’t be exciting all the time. There will be times when we think we’re better off alone.

But are we?

Am I?

Not when I think of the beautiful memories you’ve given me.

Are you?

(You’re definitely not, if you ask me. You’d wreck your life if you were allowed to do your own thing.)

I can visualize our perfect life together. Where you don’t feel lonely, and I don’t feel detached and forgotten. Where we both know that we’re meant to be. Happy and faithful. Together. Till death do us apart.

It won’t be easy. Nobody said it would be.

But together we’ll do just fine.

Trust me.

(And mend your ways before I flog you!)

Love.

Snob-itis

A new disease that deserves a mention in the medical and personality nomenclature...


Hitting the youth with increased vigor.


The deadly, the ugly... SNOB-ITIS.


I hate snobs. What do they think of themselves? That they’re one in a million? Of course they are. Just like everybody else… Or one in 1.15 billion, to be more precise (that’s 1,150,000,000… fantastic, eh?)

People throw attitude as if they were born monarchs and happen to be here just because of some cruel joke that destiny played on them. Crazy folks strutting around glancing at others out of the corner of their eyes with a silly, insulting smirk on their ugly lips… What’s to be gained by looking down on everybody around?

I seriously don’t understand. I myself am pretty outgoing (though I don’t talk half as much as most people I know) and I make sure I talk to anybody and everybody, regardless of age, gender, caste or whatever. I think it my duty to be nice to new joinees or those who are uncomfortable in a new situation. Snooty people think it lowly when they approach someone and so they stay aloof, projecting an ice-queen/king image, waiting for others to get friendly. And then there are some who dislike it even when someone makes an attempt to strike a conversation. As long as one’s safety and dignity is not jeopardized, what’s the harm in being courteous??? Height of haughtiness.


Maybe it’s the upbringing. Maybe the personality. The ancient nature-nurture controversy. Whatever, I really hate it...

In fact, I’ve often felt that belonging to a group of guys is a wonderful thing. Most males are cool, unbothered and affable. They invite and adjust with anybody, and one can become a part of the group without doing/proving too much. Women crib a lot about being “similar” and having “matching wavelengths”. And I say it’s irritating. Yes, I do show attitude at times, when I really don’t want someone to approach me, but I ensure that I openly state my feelings most of the times. I hate dragging things and creating issues. My being upfront occasionally lands me in a soup, but I don’t regret it. I’d rather not let things cook in my and others’ minds.

Back to gender benders. Guys DO gossip (no use your squealing and vehemently denying this), but it’s the sharing-fun-incidents kinds, not the who’s-dating-whom so typical of girls. And no “Aah”, “Ooohh” and “Omigosh” that women frequently use with reference to make-up, dressing trends, and this-freaky-guy-asked-me-out-the-other-day stories. With men, it’s easy and effortless. They laugh, they chill out. No wonder most of my good friends are guys. Of course, their maturity and sensitivity level isn’t exactly as splendid as females, but no one’s perfect!

Check out this quote I found in the midst of my silly googling sessions…
“…I like snobs. A snob has to spend so much time being a snob that he has little time left to meddle with you” – William Faulkner
“The true snob never rests; there is always a higher goal to attain, and there are, by the same token, always more and more people to look down upon” - J. Russell Lynes

Catch ya later!