My name...

... It defines to an extent what I am.

Mercurial temper at times

Happy and cheerful

Keeps people at a distance - but at the same time warm, giving...

Unique - in whichever way one choose to interpret it

Morbid aversion to cold

A feeling of 'can stand alone' no matter what

Uncomfortable in being vulnerable with others

Do I define my name or did my name define me?

Why I love these movies

Mr Bean's holiday : for that hilarious take on art movies

Dhoom 2: Hritik Roshan's movements

Holiday : Kate Winslet's character

Departed :Decaprio's vulnerable eyes

Pyar Ke Side Effects : Ranvir Shorey and Mallika Sherawat

Mozhi : My love story

Kannathil Muthamittal : My ideal family

Groovy girl, groovy love

If I ever become famous enough for people to ask me about the souls who are my inspiration, chances are that I may not speak out her name. She is not the one with the greatest talent, beauty or intelligence. She is not on her way to be a hotshot career woman.

But if you ask me, I wish I had her qualities. Or one quality, rather. The courage to love completely, without fear or doubts, ready to not just look over the cliff, but jump down and then soar above.

She had loved a lot, and lost a lot of loves. She had walked with stumbling steps through the fogs of alcohol, heartbreak and trauma. I used to wonder how she coped. I who never prayed for a long long time compromised and told off God in slightly un-parliamentary language.

She went to a mediocre company, which tried to squeeze the very last ounce of life out of her in lieu of a paycheck. She rebelled. Dared not to take official calls on weekends and holidays. Made it a point to party.

It was in one of these parties that she met him. He was visiting our country, and came to the city where she was. Never mind that he was close to fifty. Never mind that her friends were wary. Some expressed it point blank, calling her crazy and stupid. Some remained silent, renewing their prayers, threatening the powers above with bodily harm if she is hurt again. ( I belonged to the second category.)

She went off with him to his country. Caused a small scandal it did, in our loosely knit tapestry of friends, acquaintances and enemies where affairs and breakups are common enough. She got married to him, and her happiness reaches us via her emails and chat messages.

She is in love, and all is well in the world.

I admire her courage to love without reservation, despite the way love had treated her shabbily in the past.

I respect the way she trusted her love to disregard the commonsense and logic which dictated that it was a foolish move.

I love the way she looked past the age and the grey hair directly into his heart.

Cate, I love the way you love him. Here's to you my friend; for a lifetime of love and happiness. I hope I learn from you to love the way you do. That when happiness catch up with me, I am ready to accept it than be afraid of being hurt or hurting and miss out one something really great.

Every lie has an exception

Lie:
"Me? I hate flowers. yuck!!! It's soo cheesy!!!"

Real meaning:
1. Hurmph. You wont buy me flowers. And I wont ask you for them. I have too much ego to do that.

Truth when:
I am allergic to the flowers or flower pollens

Lie:
"I don't like jewelery"

Real meaning:
1. Your jewelery selection sucks. I am not going to wear that monstrosity, even if it has such beautiful diamonds.
2. I hate gold. I love only platinum and diamonds.
3. You think that I am above all these material things. I like that you have put me in a pedestal. Now let me think how I can make you buy me beautiful, shiny things.

Truth when:
You kidding me??????? Stop dating a woman if you think this statement can be true - you are hopeless!

Lie:
"Of course dear, we will do exactly that..."

Real meaning:
1. I don't want to pick up a fight with you on this. But I know exactly how to make you do what I want. You wont even know it, and your ego will be intact ( Fragile thing, your ego!)
2. ...and you will hate it, and then will wish that you had listened to me. I hate doing it anyway.
3. ...and with my passive aggression, I will prove to you why it is a bad idea.

Truth when:
It is something in which I have no interest in, and something which you will do with minimum impact in my life.


Lie:
"I believe in equality of the sexes..."

Real meaning:
1. I will do what I want as I am empowered. But if you do what I don't want you to do, then you are insensitive. You made me cry ( yes, we know you feel really bad when we cry).
2. ...but I still expect you to be chivalrous and pick up the bill, do not flinch or retaliate when I inflict bodily harm with my kicks and talons, and open the door for me and run little errands for me.
3. ...and misusing it to my advantage.

Truth when:
I am a heroine from an Eric Segal novel who is the epitome of self sacrifice and completely guileless.


Guys, feel free to provide timeless female cliches... will try to decipher them for you...

Just like that...

Often, when you give up on life, life doesn't give up on you.

It hits your heart and head smack on and leave you zonked with the twists and turns that it bring forth.

I guess it is good to have a wish list and demand things from whomever is supposed to procure it for us - who knows, they may come true.

Calm and Sunshine...

Some days back, I was searching for a friend with the same spelling as yours.

You came to the screen, along with him. I send him the message that I wanted to send.

And for one last time, I decided to send you a message.

Without ego. Without hiding my anger. Or frustration. Of feeling stupid about the time I was not really in my best behavior. About the fact that I regretted that I said what I said and did what I did. Without glossing over that fact that you do mean something to me. Without forgetting the fact that I too, mean something to you. Remembering the good time we had. Doing a little bit of emotional blackmail in the process. Reminding you our deep friendship.

The next day you email me as if nothing has happened, asking for my mobile number. Three years since you talked to me; even though I had dropped seemingly offhand messages in your web page. You chose to ignore them. You too are an egotist.

I don't know when you are going to call me - probably in another two-three weeks? But I am happy that we have started talking again. After three years, what is two or three weeks between friends?

You brought out the most unselfish side of me out. You taught me to care for another person without caring about myself. You taught me about controlling my temper, overlooking faults. You also taught me about not losing my identity. You believed that I would do an MBA from a half decent business school - something a girl from a small town engineering college did not really believe in. I know that you have more faith in me than I have in myself.

Although the past years, our common friends have talked to me about you in an offhand way. They who knew how deep our friendship was. Each time, I did not talk more about it. To think that I could have met you when you were in this country... but no, my ego demanded to be fed.

I missed you my friend. I missed our esosteric discussions. I miss our intellectual duels on all the hazy subjects in the world. I miss getting mad at your deliberately scathing comments about women and all capitalistic endeavours. I miss getting worried over you, and fighting with other for you.

I am greatly looking forward to pull your leg about the fact that you are working in USA. Ha! Touche!!!

As I had told you, I have changed. Hair and clothes became shorter. Developed a taste for alcohol and bratty behaviour. Stopped thinking in our mother tongue -now I dream in English. Stopped being scandalized on seeing people have a beer and started enjoying single malts & t.

I wish I could meet up with you and swap stories over a drink or two. But for now, I am glad that we are starting chapter II of our idiosyncratic friendship.