”
"I’m going to imprison you,
Neither friends nor family can you see,
All you shall have here, is me.
With me can you talk,
With me you’ll live alone,
I promise I’ll make you smile,
And to wipe your tears, I’ll do all that’s pure and vile.
But no one else can you call upon,
Though you command all that your heart wants,
Except for other humans, coz I can’t share you,
You’re too precious, too pretty, I can’t let you go.
I can’t risk you enjoying with another,
And refusing to return to me,
And even if you do, your heart will not be mine,
And I’d die rather than see you unhappy...
No! You must remain in this cage, this golden cage,
And I promise to keep you satisfied.”
"Ok”, said the princess,
"I love you, and I recognize how much you love me,
I don’t need anything else, except to be here with you.”
Alas, the foolish girl,
So innocent and short-sighted.
Life is funny and weird,
And our needs and desires even more so...
What seems so right one moment, looks ridiculous at another time,
And what one so deeply craves, turns out to be a curse.
"I miss my home”, the dainty lass said,
"It’s been so many weeks,
I want to see those that loved me,
And knew me much before we met...
I shall be back in a day’s time, I promise
Let me go, and I’ll return soon.”
The demon trembled, not a whisper escaped his lips,
After all, how long can one hold the clouds, the wind, the river...
He knew this would happen someday.
How could he refuse her, the one he lived and breathed for,
"Just a day”, she murmured, “A day, and not a second more.”
His eyes glistened with unwept tears
As he held her close, and felt her warmth,
He couldn’t let those drops flow,
Coz his princess’ last reflection was in them.
His heart wailed as he nodded,
“Ok my sweetheart,
I am your slave and I must obey.”
When one wishes something,
How fruitful is it to refuse?
Isn’t thinking it and doing it nearly the same?
Wouldn’t it sow the seed of sorrow and hurt?
"I love you,” he uttered, “always will”
Her hood fluttering in the breeze,
She disappeared over the horizon.
A day passed, and the princess thought,
"I guess another won’t hurt.”
And thus a week flew.
The princess enjoyed her new company,
Though she missed her crazy lover,
"I’ll surely leave tomorrow,” she kept telling herself,
But aren’t promises made to be broken?
She thought of him each day,
And how he worshipped her,
As the new month drew near,
She realized life wouldn’t be the same without him.
"I must go,” she said,
As her family bid adieu,
With arms open she flew,
To embrace the one who could die for her,
Or kill if need be.
The castle echoed her calls when she spoke his name,
She ran all about looking for her lover,
Until she reached the dungeon dark.
There sat the demon,
His lips curled in a moan,
"He died the instant you were beyond sight,” sighed a friendly stork.
"He asked me to wait till you came, so I could give you this.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks,
The princess unfolded the note,
"I love you, always will.
And I can’t bear my heart that beats without you...
Probably your cell-phone, keys and wallet. And perhaps a jacket, coz it’s cold these days. And if you’re a woman, then add other paraphernalia like lipstick, moisturizer, compact, and so on and so forth.
I carry my jhola. What’s a jhola, you ask?
Ahem...
Leme try.
It’s a sling bag kinda thing that you wear on your shoulder. Something that initially journalists used to carry, and then it started coming in a variety of colors and artwork so it became a huge hit with the teenagers as well. While khadi dominated the scene then, now jholas are found in every style .
That was the easy part. Now comes the challenge. Describing what it means to me, and unfolding its contents and uses.
My jhola’s an extension of my personality. (Ya, I know I said this blog is also one of those. But you see, everything I do is very ME...) So, my jhola - I can’t live without it. Anywhere I go, my jhola goes with me. For the last 2+ years.
The market’s full of shops and boutiques that sell trendy ladies bags in all colors and sizes. I’m amazed at my Sister who recently returned from a shopping spree with a Dalmatian-shaded purse and huge black handbag! Eww... Not my type by a long shot...
Come to think of it, I cannot remember ever having been an out-and-out feminine creature at any point in my life. I have those few recollections when I have enjoyed getting decked up in finery for some occasions and celebrations (like my sister's wedding for instance, when jeans and tops were forsaken for heavy brocades and expensive silks). But otherwise, ask my friends and colleagues, and they’ll scratch their heads when asked to recall the last time I wore a Punjabi dress.
I’ve always been a tomboy. No nakhras-jhatkas for me. Right from my no-nonsense hairstyle to my clothes to my mannerisms. (That was the case until fairly recently. Then, God knows how and when and why, I changed my ways and started buying more lady-like dresses and acting more womanish. Grew my hair, started wearing earrings. Some crazy hormonal change, I guess... Anyway, I’m not complaining. And from what I can see, no one else is, either!)
But hey, weren’t we talking about my jhola?
Right, so my jhola is my inseparable possession. What’s in it? Well, not much. It holds my purse and keys, my lip-balm , Uhh... ya a pen at times, and that’s about it.
Oh! My cell-phone (how can I forget that?!) That’s all.
(That IS all, I said...)
The best part about carrying a jhola is that it’s trendy and practical at the same time. I can wear it diagonally as I walk fast to get someplace, and I can hold it fashionably by the side as I hang out at a coffee bar. When you’re lost among strangers, a jhola gives you the perfect excuse to dive in and search fervidly for nothing at all for a precious 5 minutes. And when you’re trying to act cool, you can finger the strap and just look around...
A jhola NEVER lets you down. Trust me.
The moment I put my hand in my jhola (just about 15 times an hour), you know I’m spinning in the abyss of mystery. On no account can I find what I want. If I’m looking for my cell, and if I’m searching for my keys, out peeps the lip- balm. It’s basically something like Ali Baba’s potli (did he have one? Or was it someone else? Whatever... I can dimly vision “Potli baba ki” flashing on DD = Doordarshan every Sunday morning. And remember “Gucche” and “Chitrahaar”? Good ol’ days!)
Uh huh... Ranting and digressing again... But the point is, that jhola’s the way to go. You can carry it to work and parties, and you can wear it on jeans and salwars. Jholas look good in pink and yellow. Girls at 10 and women at 40, jholas aren't a burden on the pocket, and neither on your shoulder. In short, I’ve thought it out, and I’ve given it the ISI mark, so go ahead and get one (if you don’t have one already). I think they look better on women, but you guys can get it for your girls and try them in fronta the mirror, just to see if they suit you... (Dunno much about metrosexual and other preferences. No offence.)
Having said that, I must say I just got a new jhola/bag ..Its my Valentine Gift and its so pretty :) Thank you Love !!
Have a good week, buddies!
If you're irritated with those annoying sales and customer care calls, then you've come to the right place, baby... Here are ten ways to stop those credit card sales, mobile companies, insurance calls from bugging you:
Hilarious!! Enjoy...
1. After the telemarketer finishes speaking, ask him/her to marry you. (!!!)
2. Tell the telemarketer (seductively) that you are busy, but you would love to talk about some interesting personal stuff and ask for his/her home telephone number so you can call back at night.
3. Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times. (!!!)
4. Tell them it is dinnertime, BUT ask if they would please hold. Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure. Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation.
5. Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the phone to your/somebody else's 5-year old child. (!!!)
6. If they start out with, "How are you today?", say "I'm so glad you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all these problems............." Blah-blah-blah (Reminds me of Ghanta Singh!!!)
7. Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every word down.
8. Cry out in surprise, "Helen, is that you? I've been hoping you'd call! How is the family?" When they insist they are not Helen, tell them to stop joking. This works especially well if the telemarketer is MALE. (Vice-versa for females - "Hey Deepak! Kidhar hai sale??")
9. Tell the company call centre guy to call on your office number, and give him the rival company's call centre number.
10. Start taking the telemarketer's interview : "So, how many kids do you have? Are you married? What's your favorite food?......"
Now isn't THAT smart?!!!
Try it and leme know!
