Cleen Super Deluxe Tissues...

Today is all about New year Parties. Every goddamned hotel and club is advertising their 'New Year Bash'. I'm headed to one with HM and his friend and I must admit I'm not too excited about it. I am looking forward to all the food, because there's an unlimited buffet, but that's about it. I am not in the mood to dance or do the countdown to midnight. I don't think I'm in the mood to celebrate anything. I'm pretty much bored actually and would love to order in a large Pepperoni Pizza and gorge on it with the TV set for company and hit the sack at 11:00 pm. That, is a pretty good way to bring in the New Year according to me.
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So I had something called a Devil's Chicken Shawarma today. Shawarmas are good. I'm a fan. But you have to eat THE Devil's Chicken Shawarma to know what I mean. It was a mini hell inside my mouth, burning in all its glory and now it is burning my innards as it makes its way down my system. The guy told me it would be spicy when I was placing the order. And I was like, how spicy can it get? I can totally handle it. I was so wrong. It had chillies, red peppers, chilly flakes and what not and I was halfway through it before I realised that it had chicken too. In the last few bites I discovered a few pieces of French fries that had succumbed to the heat of a million chillies. I now think that the dude at the counter did this to me on purpose. Maybe the roll is not supposed to be that spicy but he was like, Ahhh....So you're Ok with spicy stuff haan? Lets see if you can handle THIS! He even gave me a nasty grin when I was collecting my order and signed off with, "I hope you can manage to eat that". I hate him. I hope he gets stuck in a place that has nothing except Devil's chicken shawarma to eat. I hope it becomes his daily diet. Anyway, now that the dratted roll has been eaten and my stomach is trying to comprehend why I'm putting it through the worst thing that has ever happened to it, I can proudly say that I did not give up on the challenge. Me wins! I feel like that guy from Man vs Food, which, by the way is my favourite show on Tv. I am now guzzling some cold Frooti and munching on a digestive biscuit. My mouth feels good. My stomach, not so much. It is on fire. I'm just going to drink galleons of water and try to put it out.
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I, is heading home now. I will see you people next year. My doggies eagerly await my arrival. Some of you will want to party all night, some will drink a lot and others will dance the night away. DO NOT do all that. You do not want to wake up with a hangover on the first day of the new year. Neither do we want sore feet or lack of sleep. I recommend everyone to crash into YOUR respective beds at 12:00 sharp. Just shout 'Happy New Year' at the top of your lungs, if you have to and then switch off the lights and drift off to la la land. See some good dreams, rest your overworked body and under utilised brain and wake up to a shining new day and brilliant new year. It might be your last. Don't give me that look! The Mayans said so! I may be morbid but they weren't any less. Ok now Bye...I'm bored.

I should totally go to Ibiza...

M, my friend from work gave me a priceless nugget of wisdom yesterday. I'm eating grilled chicken and chips and she's mulling over her oriental sizzler and she suddenly looks up and says, "You know, its possible to be in love with two people at the same time, but its not possible to love them both in the same way." I look at her and offer her some of my chips. She accepts them and continues eating. French fries in exchange of a profound statement. Fair deal.
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The hunt for the 'Perfect Top to wear on New Year's Eve' is on. An hour of shopping at the Phoenix market City Mall has not yielded any results. I'm fed up. Firstly, I missed my lunch break to go shopping instead and secondly, I wear heels at work, which are so inappropriate for a shopping spree. So I'm left with a growling stomach that is just begging to be fed and sore feet. Also, I think I now hate shopping because I never find anything I like. I think I should design and stitch my own clothes. That should solve a lot of my problems.
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I'm going to make a list of things I'd like to do before I turn 30. Then when I'm 30, I'll make a list of things that I didn't do before turning 30. Something tells me, both the lists will be the same. Because I never manage to get anything done. Especially things that I plan. Nothing happens to those plans. They never translate into action. If you're going to be all judgemental and question my ability to plan and manage and what not, go right ahead and do it. I am beyond the point of giving a damn about such things. I used to plan for the future and stuff, but life (and some Zen philosophy) taught me to live in the present. So I'm all about that now. I am 'Totally chilled out' as my younger sister would say or 'Irresponsible and lazy' as my mom would say. Again. I couldn't care less.
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HM has asked the newspaper guy to deliver MINT everyday. So all I get to read about is the Stock Market and some other economic stuff that I'm not really interested in. But I do read MINT Lounge every weekend and I enjoy it a lot. HM never reads the newspaper. Anyway, today's copy had some Income Tax details on the front page. I always like to read who paid how much tax and so I started reading the article. Akshay Kumar has paid 6 Crore, Anand Mahindra has paid 3 Crore and Mr. Kotak and Ratan Tata have paid some 80 - 90 Lacs or something. But thats not important here. Fali Nariman and Zia Mody have each paid around 1.5 -2 crore as taxes this year. Gosh! They are lawyers and they're earning so much! What in the name of God am I doing with my worthless existence? I'm a lawyer too! All this is doing the rounds in my head today and I'm unable to focus on my job that pays me quite well, but now I want to make big bucks just so that I can pay a hefty amount in tax and get featured on MINT. You see how wonderfully brilliant my plans are?

Shut your trap, please?

That totally looks like something I would do. Weirdos of the world, unite! We be of one blood, Ye & I....

Just what part of 'NO' do you NOT understand?

I exercised. And you know what happened? After a set of sit-ups and lunges each, my thighs have turned into rock solid boulders of pain. Pain, so excruciating that I'm unable to climb stairs, walk straight or squat down on my haunches. It is crazy. My colleague tells me that if it pains, it means its working. Pray, tell me, what exactly is working? My nociceptor nerves that tell me how badly my thighs hurt? I am quite annoyed at myself now. First, I actually gather my willpower to do some exercise and then when I think my body will reward me for it, it punishes me with pain. Almost as if its sending me a signal. A signal that if I exercise again, it will hurt even more and so I should abandon the idea instantly. Hmmm.... I read somewhere that one should listen to one's body.
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People expect too much from me. I feel sorry for them. I want them to understand that expecting things from a hopeless person like me is a complete waste of time and energy. Do not expect me to know anything, do anything or understand anything. I am a lost cause and I do not feel sorry about it. I'd like to be left alone and I'd love it if you didn't bother me with your complex demands. Demands that are seemingly simple for you, but are very complicated for me to process and work upon. Buzz off everyone.
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Today is the day when I want to fling rubber bands at everyone. Like, everyone. There are other days when all I want to do is break all my crockery. Not because I'm mad or something but because I enjoy the crashing sound that glass makes when it breaks. I am a crackpot isn't it? Muhahahahha....

Buy me a tutu and a pair of ballet shoes and watch me prance around like an idiot....

I think I am using a lot of cuss words lately. Not out loud, but they're buzzing inside my head all the time. Especially the forbidden 'F' word. Its forbidden because I'm a decent married woman (apparently) and any cultured woman should not be using such foul language. It does not go down too well with the society (I am trying hard to suppress a giggle). Anyway, atleast I have the liberty to use them freely inside my head. So liberating (Ha ha ha)
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Do you know how it feels to travel to the middle of nowhere? I know. I also know how annoying it is to keep driving on a never ending road that goes nowhere. I experienced all this last weekend on the most boring road trip ever. I also realised that winter in Pune can be easily compared to the winter in Delhi. You just have to travel to the outskirts to experience how cold it can get at night. I was shivering for an hour after having reached home. Don't get me wrong because I'm cribbing. I love exploring and stuff but maybe I was just not in the mood that day. I should have stayed home, ordered a large pizza and pigged out.
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The dratted New Year is around the corner and I can't begin to tell you how much I hate occasions like these when everyone wants to get together and celebrate. I just want to be left alone with a good book and I'm sorted. But apparently, I'm not fortunate enough to enjoy these little pleasures of solitude. I will be stuck with a bunch of people who like to call themselves 'Family' and I will have to pretend that I'm having fun hanging out with them, when secretly I'm just hoping that one of them will whip out a pistol and shoot me in the head, thus mercifully ending my misery. It doesn't look like it will happen this year. How unfortunate am I exactly?

Tumblr is keeping me busy with all the memes....

The office has acquired a brand new Air Freshener. It gives out a super strong citrus scent. It is beginning to make my throat itch, like I've suddenly swallowed a glass of undiluted, freshly squeezed lemon juice. I am telling ya, if I brought in a bowl of milk in here, it would definitely curdle. Seriously.
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I got my first paper cut today. I always wanted to know how someone can get cut by paper. It is not the best feeling. Especially when you're suddenly feeling like Bella Swan from the Twilight saga and there is no Jasper to lunge at you. Worse, there is no Edward to save you. Life is cruel that way.
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And when you are ME, make paneer. Which is exactly what lemons are used for in my house.

Don't bug me...

Love is a lie. Yes, believe it or not, I am going to passionately endorse this view from now on. I will also convert people to join me in my mission. My mission to save this world from the sappy shit we call love. Let me make it very clear. We can 'like' and we can be 'very fond of'. But that is as far as we can go. We can also be 'obsessed' but that is an angle I will explore later. Right now, we have to focus on eliminating the 'Love' part. Now I know that a lot of you out there are going to argue that love keeps people together and stuff, but seriously, it's not love, it is 'Habit'. Yes, Very sorry to burst your bubble, but people live together and tolerate each other because they are habituated to each other. Nothing else. I will pursue this line of argument with anyone who has the time to hear me ramble along for a few hours. And don't even get me started on sacrifice and such things that people claim to do because they 'love' someone. These are the same people who will complain that all their sacrifices were in vain etc. If you really weren't expecting anything in return, why is it in vain now? You do things to make the other person like you and when they don't, you crib and cry. Silly babies. Love and all it seems. They should have Rehab centres for people in love and I should be made the Superintendent or Chief of it. I am going to save people much heartbreak and pain. Love doesn't bring much else, does it?

Because everyone gets privacy in their private hells.

I may be just a little mad. Not the right amount though, slightly more than that. But not enough to warrant me a free bed in a Mental Asylum. When will I ever learn to do things perfectly? Hell, even my madness is mediocre. Damn you.
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The case of the lost keys has been entirely dismissed. For those who don't know me personally and hence haven't been updated about the incident, here's what happened. HM and I went to watch a movie last Sunday. When we finally came out of the theatre, the keys to HM's bike were missing. We must be really maturing as a couple, because instead of arguing over who lost the keys, we set about looking for them. It is to be noted, that we silently agreed to not talk at all to avoid an altercation. Nice move. Anyway, the keys were never found and we managed to avoid any kind of discussion about it. But it did become the proverbial Elephant in the room as silence hung heavily in our home that Sunday afternoon. But Monday came soon enough and we HAVE to talk on a Monday, come what may. So 'peace' was restored and hence, case dismissed. We are making a lot of progress, I tell you. And yes, Peace and Silence mean two very different things. Just like Ignorant and Illiterate don't mean the same thing.
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'How the mighty have fallen'. I totally love that sentence. I am going to find a way to use it in my day to day conversations. I just have to. I am going to introduce 'Shuddh Angrezi' in this world of meaningless slang and stupid words that sound bad but don't mean anything. I will even try to throw in some Archaic English for good measure. I will say, "Where hast thou?" or "Come hither, Oh good fere of mine. I beseech thee." This is going to be fun. I am waiting eagerly for a party wherein I can unleash my English on the poor unsuspecting guests. And I will also follow HM everywhere and say, "Whither thou goest, I shall go". Awesome.
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I finished reading 'Insects are just like you and me except some of them have wings' by Kuzhali Manickavel. The book is simply brilliant. I was laughing hard at one moment and sobbing at the next. Just like a demented person, which is what her stories are mostly about. Me thinks, I'll read the book again and again. I  had that kind of addiction with 'God of small things' and I must have easily read it atleast 20 times. Anyhoo, I'm now reading Chanakya's Chant and will move on to  Palace of Illusions next week. I have a lot of reading to catch up on.

The caterpillar got accidentally locked in his own cocoon...

Its one of those rare days when I have nothing intelligent to say. Actually, its not that rare an occasion. It does happen quite often. And whenever it does, I have a lot of fun saying random idiotic things that shock people. I've been told that I have a weird sense of humour and people don't 'get' my jokes most of the times. I couldn't care less. I am amused at all the crazy stuff that my brain conjures up. Its as if my brain is this wonderful laid back chap from Goa who has a cashew farm and mango orchard. Who drinks Feni in the evenings and has a banana boat on the beach. Lets call him Pascal. So Pascal is this Rascal who is all quiet and observant most of the time. He chuckles quietly at all the oddities happening around and does not bother enough to pass a remark or do anything about anything at all. Then one day he goes to the beach and enters one of those cool shacks and starts cracking super awesome crazy type jokes. Some people get it, others don't. But Pascal is enjoying his day out. Then when he's run out of silly things to say, he drinks the last of his Feni and goes back home to eat some fried fish and take his dogs for a walk. Awesome guy that Pascal is. I'm super glad he lives inside my head.
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HM was so sweet to me yesterday. He bought me a huge Swiss chocolate cake. Yummy ekdum. I ate the icing first. We finished half the cake. The other half is in my fridge and I'm day dreaming about it. I day dream about food quite often. Y'day it was Chilly Chicken and I told HM how I was craving it. He sarcastically asked me if I'd been born in China. So according to HM, you have to be a Chinese to crave Chilli Chicken. But I was born in India. Udaipur, to be more precise. So I can only crave Dal-Baati, Choorma, Laal maas and Mirchi ke pakode. What ya? Atleast food should be left alone. I don't want my favourite dishes to be dragged into politics and to be pushed across borders and stupid stuff like that. I like my Pastas and my Risottos as much as I like Kekda Bhajji and Pindi Chhole. Now I want to be left alone in a room full of my favourite stuff. I will eat and eat and then eat some more. My day time dreams are the best, I tell ya.
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I have decided to wear nerdy glasses at work to look serious and professional. They are doing the trick. My clients look intimidated and take all my rubbish legal advice very seriously. Jokes apart, I want it to be taken seriously as opposed to the advice given by some 'senior' lawyers who know nothing but act as if they are experts on everything. Believe me, I've seen some pretty messed up lawyers out there who will claim to have 20 years of experience but will not know how to draft a simple Leave and License Agreement. Me? I've got 2 years of experience in changing jobs frequently. This is my Fifth one. You can guess how much I've learnt. I don't need to brag. And now I'll sign off with my Ma's words of wisdom, "Bhagwan hi jaane iska kya hoga..."

Arrey itna kachra kaise ho gaya?

So I finally decided to clean up my cabin today. I made a big deal about the whole activity. Like telling everyone how important it is to de-clutter your personal and professional space and all that shit. People actually asked me to 'de-clutter' their spaces too. Buggers.
Anyway, following is a list of 'unprofessional' things that have been lurking in my cupboard and drawers and shelves at work.

1. Two guavas (Fortunately they weren't rotting in there, considering the fact that I bought them two days back and just forgot all about them)
2. A netted bag full of gooseberries (These were bought with the guavas and met with the same fate)
3. A packet of Hippo snacks with 4 cheeseballs inside 
4. A half eaten pack of Digestive biscuits
5. One pack of Frooti
6. One lone half eaten Butter Chakli sitting pretty on a silver paper plate
7. A pair of wedge heels (I kept slipping when I wear those to work and I got so annoyed that I yanked them off, stuffed them in a plastic bag and relegated them to a corner of my filing cabinet)
8. A pair of pyjamas and some old tees (These were left at a friend's place during a sleepover and I never took them back home)
9. Two packs of Lipton Ice tea premixed powder
10. Three scrunchies
11. A pack of Tic tac clips
12. Four bottles of nail paint
13. Old debit cards
14. My cheque book (Oh Dear God! I've been searching you for so long!)
15. Tiffin boxes (All mercifully empty)
16. Scarves
17. Cutlery

So all the above was finally cleared out. I am quite amazed as to how much clutter I had managed to collect. 

I feel better now. Time to get some candy to fill up the empty drawer...

Dig deeper...

I am totally going to ace that exam. Which one? The one for my Master's Degree silly. Yup, the same one that I haven't studied for and is just four days away. Who has the time to study? I have a job, A husband, two dogs and a house to keep and to top it off, I have issues. No, not the 'Issues' that are born post wedlock. Those are still ok. I have bigger, scarier issues and I shall refrain from discussing them because I don't want to scare everyone, do I? Nothing serious though, but serious enough to double up as an excuse for not studying for my Master's Degree. But I will ace the exam. I am telling you that. How the hell do I manage to say that so confidently? Because if I really believe I can do something, I invariably do it. And I do it well. I'm magical that way. Hence proved, that I will pass with flying colours (Whatever that funny phrase means. I always picture myself riding on a rainbow when someone uses that phrase.) But still, wish me luck ok. Not because I need it, but because I like it.
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December aa gaya! Another year has gone by. It was bad. Actually, I could call it the worst, but life has taught me through some rather harsh lessons that the worst is always yet to come. So I will call 2011 a bad year. 2010 didn't fare that well on my popularity chart either. It sucked. But if that wasn't enough, 2011 came along and said something like, "Muhahahahaha! I am going to screw your happiness! You will feel suicidal very single month!" And I did feel that way. Every. Single. Month. Why should I be ashamed to admit it? Hai toh hai. In fact I'm proud of myself because inspite of being down in the dumps most of the year, I survived it. 'I'm a survivor' by Destiny's Child is now playing in the background in my head and I'm dancing to it. 2012 is supposed to bring around the End of the World and all that shit that the Mayans warned us about. Apocalypse and other grand things are slated to happen. I am so looking forward to it. I never knew I'd live to see this day.
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So its time to make new year resolutions? Bah. I never made any. never in my life.
It all seemed like a useless pursuit to me. And I prefer to invest time in some creative useless pursuits. Like annoying people, for example. Atleast its entertaining, if not fruitful.
Anyway, point is, this year i'm making a resolution and I plan on following it to the T. I resolve to never take anything seriously again. Yup. I will never be serious about anything again. No problem, issue or crisis shall worry me. I shall smile and laugh through it all and make up some wicked jokes while at it. I hereby vow to digest the biggest chill pill ever thought of and it shall last me for the whole of my lifetime. Nothing will deter me from guffawing and giggling through the hilarious mess that life is. Because tedha hai par mera hai. And I'm not refering to HM when I say this. I am talking about MY life. It is MINE. Muhahahhahaha!

Know No No No...

Chalo ik baar phir se ajnabi ban jayein hum dono...
Brilliant song. Very profound.
I know atleast a handful of people who I wish I'd never 'known'. Or never let them 'know' me.
Its always easier to talk to strangers. They don't know you and therefore won't judge you because who wants to waste their time passing judgements about a complete stranger?
I think I have the best conversations with strangers. They have so much to tell and they listen to whatever crap you want to unload. You both know that you probably won't see each other again. So you enjoy the conversation and there isn't a boring moment. And the best part is that you can walk away when you're done.  Nothing lost, nothing gained.
But that's the problem, you see.
When you've finished talking, you both 'know' each other. So if you bump into said stranger again, he's no longer a stranger. He's someone who now 'knows' you. Who will recognise you. That's another person added to your 'people-who-know-me' list. Its a vicious cycle. Its almost as if the universe is plotting against you. Imagine the number of strangers you'll meet in your lifetime and when you're finally off to Hell (Or Heaven, whatever) you'll have a reaaalllly long list of people who 'know' you. Its not a good thing.
And now, coming to think of it, HM was also a stranger around two years back. Now he's someone who knows how I look in the morning, how I brush my hair and how I cry. And he also knows my flaws. He must have made a list of them. We were way better off when we didn't know anything about each other.
'Knowing', 'Knowledge'. I've decided that its going to be my least favourite word from now on. Major Buzzkill...

If...

If I could, I'd be a 'Mumbai chi porgi'.
With a studio apartment in Bandra.
A dilletante.
Who watches plays at Prithvi Theatre every Friday.
Who spends all her Sundays browsing the shops at Causeway and Linking Road.
Who catches up with friends at Indigo.
Who paints, writes and scribbles.
Who shops at thrift stores.
Who volunteers at the Animal Shelter
Who learns Salsa and belly dancing and speaks French fluently.
Who spends afternoons at Kala Ghoda.
Who works, parties and finds time to play Golf.
Who has tons of books at home.
Who bakes the most amazing cupcakes.
Who is single and in love with life.
Who goes on frequent bike trips across the country.
Who sings and dances without a care in the world.
Who doesn't give a damn about anything or anybody.
Who is independent, bold, fearless and speaks her mind.
Who loves, lives and is an answer to people's prayers.
I'd be all this and much more.

Space...

Dono barsein,
Par sang sang kahan hain?
Thodi doori se zindagi aasan hai
Meri duniya aur uska bhi jahaan hai,
Hai ziddi ye badi majbooriyan bhi,
Dooriyan bhi hain zaroori,
Zaroori hain ye dooriyan

There is no better way to say it. Seriously.

Purani jeans...

Sometimes, talking to an old friend can be very therapeutic. Like being able to fit into an old pair of jeans that brings back such wonderful cherished memories. I spoke to O after a really long time today and when I hung up, I felt like myself again. O isn't the usual run of the mill kind of friend. He is something else. We don't go back a long way and I've known him for around 4 years but I don't think I've ever had a friend like him. We were constantly squabbling over petty issues and yelling our heads off at each other when we were classmates in Law school. I remember a particularly interesting fight we had over a couple of Kit Kat bars. It was epic. Now O was one of the most popular guys on campus and we never hung out together much. But we did a play, a moot and countless other creative stuff together and I must say, the guy was a first class 'Dramebaaz'. But more than anything else, he was and is a great friend. He's this weird combination of 'Agony Aunt' meets 'Worst Critic'. I can recall countless incidents about O which include bad graffiti, enviable appetite and the ability to befriend anyone and anything. He was my annoying, know-it-all friend, bad philosopher and interesting advice waala guide. He made me laugh and more often than not, he even made me cry out of sheer frustration and anger. There were days when he got on my nerves and then there were days when nothing was more comforting than having a chat with him. O and I drifted apart after our respective weddings. We got married within a day of each other and so we were conveniently unable to attend each other's wedding. I wish I'd been there to see O marry his long time girlfriend and soul mate who is an amazing girl herself. He recently had some sort of blood clot in his heart so I'm sure she's loving him lots and there's just no space left in his heart for all that affection. (Cheesy thought, but you should see them together. Absolute delight to watch) Anyway O, if you do happen to read this, know that you're a frikkin awesome friend to have and you are treasured. And this is from the trio i.e. Me, S and ofcourse N, who will be joining you in Delhi soon. God bless and you better take care of your cardiac muscle dude. 

I'm not your Aunty

So the kids in my building are calling me 'Aunty'. They are also calling HM 'Uncle' but he doesn't flinch like I do. Infact he's taken to hanging around with a bunch of li'l giggly ten year old girls who run around him when he takes the dogs for a walk He enjoys the 'Uncle' tag I think. And because I'm his wife, I 'automatically' become their 'Aunty'. Atleast this is the explanation I got when I asked a kid why they insisted on making me sound like an old hag. I have decided to call each kid Dadaji or Dadiji to get my revenge.
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My war against cellulite has taken an interesting turn. The 'kahani me ek anokha mod' type. I had read this book by Rujuta Divekar ages ago and I happened to read it again. Intelligent book that makes a lot of sense. So I've decided to give it a try. Afterall someone who made Bebo look like THAT in Tashan and now like THIS in RaOne must be doing something right. Not that I consider Bebo as my benchmark for the perfect body. That slot is already taken by Shilpa 'how fit can a woman possibly be' Shetty. She is super amazing. But on second thoughts, Malaika Arora Khan isn't bad either. And she's also a mom which gives her extra points for being so fit inspite of that. I just hope I can get there.
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The bai is maaroing chutti for the next four days. Which means in addition to cooking and generally making the house look presentable, I also have to sweep and mop the floors, dust the furniture and wash the utensils. HM will pitch in to clean up after the dogs and will be all sweet and offer to order food from the neighbouring restaurant to cut down my work load. I will get to crib at work about my absent bai and get fake sympathy form the other ladies. Its going to be fun.

Tsk Tsk...

That Kailash Kher guy can sing. He literally takes me to a different world with that beautiful voice of his. I've been listening to his songs on a loop since as long as I can remember. I call his songs 'my personal trance music'. Divine. I also like what that Sandeep Chowta fellow does with music. He's quite brilliant and I wish he'd work more. For a very long time, 'Mitti' was the only album I could listen to without skipping tracks. That duo, Salim-Suleiman are in a league of their own too. Much like Vishal-Shekhar, who seem to have lost their touch lately. But they're usually quite creative. Creativity. It reminds me of this one time when I was quite young and was listening to a T series cassette which had a nice song, 'Suno, meri jaan ho tum...' Not a very popular song, but it was quite melodious and I was hooked on to it. I'm sure the film was called 'Aaja meri jaan' (bad title, I know) and starred Gulshan Kumar's brother or son or someone from his family. I couldn't care less. Good music though. So, there I am listening to it intently and in walks my uncle who immediately frowns and says, "Are you mad?" Now he's a psychiatrist and a good one at that, so I never question him when he says things like this. So I just say, "Maybe, but why?" He goes to his room and brings out a cassette by someone called Lionel Richie and pops it in the Tape recorder and 'Hello' fills the room. I am shocked. The exact same melody! "So did this Lionel person copy from Nadeem Shravan?" I ask innocently and I'm told that they are the ones who copied from the Lionel guy. Major embarrassment, I tell ya. Nadeem Shravan ought to have been ashamed and also sorry for having lost a fan in me. But I do laugh about it everytime I listen to'Hello'. Funny memories I have...

My nose, the trumpet.

There is nothing more satisfying than eating a piping hot wada pav with tangy spicy green chillies and then blowing your nose out. It is bliss. Especially when you have a persistent cold that has been bothering you for more than a month. There goes my diet plan. I suppose hula hooping for an  hour will help me lose the calories I piled on today. Either way, I couldn't care less right now. I am still blowing my nose happily and inviting the 'eww...that's disgusting' look from everyone at work. I never understood why blowing your nose is considered offensive. Farting, I can understand and burping too, to some extent. But, blowing your nose? C'mon people! I'm pretty shameless that way. If someone gives me 'the' look while I'm emptying my nose of all the wonderful mucus, I continue nevertheless and then hold out my tissue for them to see the result. Its one of my favourite activities actually. Pretty entertaining too.
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Tomorrow is a Sunday and HM has graciously granted me a leave from all my kitchen duties. I am elated. Pindi Chhole for brunch and maybe Pizza or Chinese for dinner. No dieting tomorrow. I will binge and lounge around and generally do nothing. Monday will bring around another week of madness and I should be prepared for it.

Of music, food and love...

In this age of crazy rocking songs like 'kolaveri di', the drama queens at  work are listening to 'saiyyan nainon ki bhasha samjhe na....' Super annoying ya. It doesn't even belong to an album. Its the title track of some prime time soap. Now if you're blessed enough to work in an office with a brilliant sound system with overhead speakers AND you are allowed to play music all day, why the hell would you play something from a daily soap? And pray, tell me, why would you do it atleast ten times a day? They did play 'Kolaveri' once and I had a great time calling all the girls 'Cow u cow u holy cow u'. But the fun ended there. We were back to complaining how our 'saiyyan' doesn't understand our 'nainon ki bhasha'. Arrey bhaad mein jaaye woh saiyyan! Who cares if he doesn't get the secret language of your eyes? I'm sure you don't get a lot of his silent communication either. Lets listen to Kolaveri again.
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I cheated on my diet today and ate a wrap from McD's. Aaah... Merry Christmas! It was so good to eat some junk after so long. Also threw in a McFlurry Oreo after reading on the website that it was 96.5% fat free. It obviously wasn't entirely fat free but it had lots of ice-cream with bits of Oreo cookies so I can say it was rich in calcium or something. I do not feel guilty for pigging out today. It was well deserved after avoiding Wada Pav and Medu wada and other fried delicacies that I was tempted to eat but didn't. I'm now looking forward to Sunday when I'm planning to eat lots of Pindi Chhole. At this rate, it'll take me quite some time to lose weight...
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I just saw this video of a flash mob at CST taped on 27.11.11. Awesome video. Totally makes me wanna go back. What the hell am I doing in this wretched excuse of a city called Pune? Puneites, kindly don't take offence if any of you are reading this. It's just me. I have the same feelings for every other city in the world. I wouldn't care if you lured me with names like Paris and London or even New York that claims to be so similar to Mumbai. Nothing is better than Mumbai, not even the Garden of Eden. And if heaven and hell are both on earth, as most of my elders tell me, then Mumbai definitely is my heaven. I have my own private hell too, but lets not get into that now. I yearn to return to Mumbai like never before and I miss it more than I have missed anything or anyone. I could ramble on for hours and probably write a whole book on how and what I feel for Mumbai, but it would all be such a waste. Something tells me, the city already knows all that. Just like an indulgent loving mother who despite all the distance knows what her child is going through...

Shabd...

Jo bhi main kehna chaahoon barbaad karein alfaaz mere....Nice song. Very apt for me at the moment. Sometimes I feel like language is a stupid discovery. We were better off without it. My two dogs don't need language. I can understand them very well. Language complicates life so much, you know. One can never find the right words to express what one really feels. You end up saying something entirely wrong and then you go ahead and say some more stupid things to undo the damage your words caused. All this is entirely uncalled for. Me thinks, we should do away with language. Right now. 

Just imagine. It would make things so much less complicated. If you wanted to express anger, all you had to do was frown, or at the most, slap the other person. If it was happiness, you could just smile or laugh. And if it was love, you could hug the other person or hold their hand. Awww...it sounds so sweet already. Plus there would be so much peace around. I'd miss all the bad words, especially during traffic, but I could get used to it...

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'Barbaad'...Superb word. I like it a lot. There's a sort of finality to it. Its like 'Khatam' but better. It has a very romantic feel to it, like a moth flying into a flame to destroy itself. Atleast that's how I think of it. Unlike people who use it in stupid ways, like "main tumhe barbaad kar doonga." What a way to misuse such a nice word. The opposite of Barbaad is Aabaad, which means prosperous. Not exactly, but that is the gist of the word. Do not confuse it with Aabaadi. That means population. Its not a noun form of Aabaad. The abovementioned song uses the word 'Barbaad' in the most excellent way. Its making me look at the word in a whole new perspective, and that's saying something...

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I have been going around my office saying deeply intellectual stuff like 'Sab maya hai' and 'iss jeevan ka matlab kya hai' or 'Sab kuch bematlab hai'. People have started bowing their heads in reverance when I go around. Blame it on my dwindling workload and increasing boredom. Wait, its not boredom. Its something else. I don't know how to express that feeling yet. The word for it has not been discovered as of now. Now, there's something I can do...