Food for thought

The one time when I realized that I do not have an iron stomach was when prawns caused me to puff up. The my juniors were being placed for their summer internships, and I had went to partake a meal offered by a company for my help to run their process smoothly. Never mind that they are on the other side of the fence now.

Being a mallu brought up on everything that lives on water, I did not think twice about eating as many shrimps as I can. However, that night I woke up from my sleep feeling choked. My entire body ballooned up, my oxygen supply was cut off. Just like that, my love story with prawns came to an end.

You win some, you lose some. Jamshedpur also exposed me to my first taste of olives. Pickled olives; to be more precise. I love both the black and green ones. Ironically, I started loving olives as they reminded me of the ten-for-50-paise packs of pickled wild berries which used to entice me on my way back from school.

Caviar was very much looked forward to - as I was brought up on regular encounters with cod liver oil and fish eggs from childhood, I did not have any enemity towards it. Also, the umpteen English short stories that I read from childhood made me realize that caviar was it. So when I had the chance, I had it with gusto, much to the awe and disgust ( in equal parts ) of my friends.

Paani puri will always have South Indian memories associated with them. It was a Tam who has introduced me to them, converting them to lunch from the lowly status of a snack. I was beyond my impressionable years; but Macchan gulping down one after another as if there is no tomorrow made me want them. Years later, I have not yet converted them to lunch, but hey; they are good for dinner.

Corn on the cob was another western dream. I don't really remember the first time I enjoyed it, but it is an all-time favorite now. Its cousin pop-corn - now him I loved so much that my early years at the movie theater was not complete without a few packs of the same. Movies, for a long long time, were incidental images which provided an occasion for me to eat popcorn. At the age when some kid learn that there is no Santa, I learned that you can buy pop corn from places other than movie halls.

Candy floss was a guilty pleasure as it was deemed everything bad. All the more reason for it to hold special significance for me - the first time I bought it without hiding it from the powers that be was when I was living away from home, and earning on my own. Freedom tastes sweet, with a hint of artificial colors.

However, there is always one western food I never took a shine to. An unexpected windfall through a competition gave me some serious money. Not so subtle hints from my mother dictated that I take my cousin out for lunch. She - my mother, not my cousin - wanted to go to one of the better places in town. They had just introduced burgers, the first in town. When my mother and me - two of the sincerest wannabes ever born - tucked into the burger, my cousin; all of four years pronounced " This is just a cutlet between two pieces of bun!"

That wisdom of four years was lost and he is not an addict of the same cutlet between buns. However, whenever I see a hamburger, before I can salivate at it, a little boy tells me with incredulous, aint-you-fools-to-fall-for-it eyes:

"Its just a cutlet between buns."

Bon Appetite!!!

Nothing but the truth...

Why did I not blog for almost a month?

I was making a note of all pubs I will visit in a few months time...


In a beautiful country which may adopt me...


After discovering infinite shades of blue and green,


I went to a dusty place in Mumbai, where monkeys chased me and my friends like vampires in some B grade movie...

We had to run shout and throw stones at the simians. Sorry SPCA; it was either fight or flight.

Then sleep, eat, sleep, gossip... some days of lazing around with one's gal pals...

Oh... did I tell you about the rafting days thanks to my employer? Bless them all!


After the travel, it was back to work... some more meetings, catching up with friends, some good and not so good movies...

Now after another trip to College Street where second hand book sellers invite me to ferret into their hordes and hand me their mobile numbers; where they had me profiled so much that they know exactly what price I will give them,

I guess I have answered life's call.

Let me have those experiences for myself. I wont be sharing them with you; well - atleast for now.

You want to see more pics, let me know.

And yeah, I know the formatting sux. :-)

Virtue of Selfishness

It is always difficult to type the first word, letter. Often your heart pulls you back, telling you not to kill or maim others and to thread softly so as not to disturb them. As a result, the anger and rage get suppressed somewhere within.

But someday, I dream take time out to be offhandedly cruel as per the society norms. Someday, I will stroll to my own rythm, think about myself, my happiness, my life.

I am happy when I am free. When I am not bogged down by the proclamations of love which family and friends use - often unknowingly - to send me on a guilt trip. I keep returning the favours which I never asked for in the first place; keep holding a candle for friendships that I know had withered away. In order to own the goody tag, I end up imprisoning myself.

One piece of advice which I always give my friends is to be selfish. Unashamedly. Gloriously. I want them to look into themselves and find their happiness, their piece of heaven without worrying about anything or anyone else in the world.

But why am I not forcing myself to do the same?

It is okay to think about my happiness. It is okay to say no to people when they are ch****ya kataoing me. It is okay to accept the love and affection that others give me. I dont have to be the person who give more in any relationship. Hell, I can choose not to give at all, if it is not to my liking. I can define my own morality.

I can be selfish. I can cancel out on people without giving any reasons. I can say no when people ask me for my time and money. I can not call up those who will spoil my day or week. I can ignore missed calls or missed buzzes if there is no follow up sms or message. I can ignore the pleas to help and choose not to even remotely think of people who never cared for me anyway. I can walk away frome the mindgames people play without even a goodbye, much less an explanation.

I can think about myself. I can splurge the money that I earn on things that I want to experience. I can dance to my own song. I need not care about looking like a wannabe. The entire world is a wannabe, in one way or other.

I can dream. I dont have to share my dreams with others. I can kick out of my life those people who do not believe in my life and choose to make fun of them. I can get out of dead relationships that do not work for me anymore.

Then I can become a dreamchaser. I can believe that I am God's dearest chils, that I am special. I can be confident that I will get what I want, and can say no to the offers on my quest to Atlantis. Less luggage, faster I travel.

I can do all of these.

Then why dont I?

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.

Light and Sound

Three movies over the weekend is a good count as far as I am concerned.

Lucky Number S7evin

Don't ask me why I wanted to watch it. It was not an informed choice, but more of a before I delete it, just five minutes kind of preview. And Bruce Wills always manages to get my attention. So does Ben Kingsly. So does Morgan Freeman.

So what are these three guys doing in one movie anyway? I kept watching the movie, till the very end, to find an answer to that question. At the end of it, I was left strangely unmoved. Often, one of them is enough for me to be riveted to the screen. I was left detached till the end. May be it is the sight of all these men trying to act in half baked roles. The movie had it all - good actors - Josh Hartnett & Lucy Liu are the hero/heroine; incidentally - the expected surprise ending, reasonably good editing, above average dialogue, emotion, drama, romance, family...

But at the end of it, the movie is like a beautiful plastic plant with no life. It will gather dust at a corner of your mind. And your heart will never be open to this movie.

Terms of Endearment:

Alright, I cried. There is Shirley Maclain - who so reminded me of my mother and the love/hate relationship I have with her and reminded me as to why people go ga-ga over her - her family friend, Danny DiVito and even that wicked old sexy man called Jack Nicholson who can portray those rascals whom every woman want to slap across his face and kiss up at the same time because of his personality despite the alcoholic slippery steps, leering face and overweight body. He daughter Debra Winger who can so beautifully express the hopes and fears of youth in an instant, the guy who acted as her husband, the guy in Third Rock from the Sun with whom she has an affair, the lady who acts as her best friend, and her kids - especially her second son. Yeah, it was when he cried that I cried.

This movie has soul. It has love. Not the perfectly packed and perfumed kind of love; but the ordinary kind -the one which hurts, disappoints, hurts some more, strays, stays and the one which is made all the more precious by the tears that mix with it. I loved this movie.


The Namesake:


Once upon a time, there were movies made in India like Namesake. In Malayalam, in Tamil, in Hindi. I grew up watching them. Ordinary, believable stories, where people do fall, but hey, they always get up, dust their knees and go forth again. This is a sunshine movie which will filter into the deep corners of your mind. Watch it guys - for Tabu and Irfaan's amazing love story. For Karl Penn. For all those times that make you think of your parents and family. You wont regret it.

This movie shines through - without melodrama but with emotions, without cliches but with slices from life, without stars but with good actors. Thanks Meera, for redeeming my faith in literary adaptations.

This movie gives you hope. And hope is a precious commodity for us to ignore.

To a land far, far away.

When I joined my company, an international assignment at the end of one year was pretty much a given. We knew this was going to happen, were indeed looking forward to it. Now, more nearer to the departure, I was having a conversation with another management trainee. She was not feeling happy about having to be outside India for 18 months.

"You might be happy as you never care about go home and don't have anyone here. I will get married next year or the year after that. I have a life here. My family, friends... I am more mainstream than you."

Ouch. I thought about her remark, so offhandedly cruel, all the more because it was not intended to hurt. I don't have a boyfriend, I am not that close to my family. So what is there for me to miss?

That day, I went home and started thinking about why I was not happy about leaving. I don't have any friends here. I don't have much fun in Kolkata. Still, I was feeling bad that I have to pack my bag's to Santa's land.

I wont have to deal with littered streets or rude people there. No sticky sweat or commotions. Peace and happiness and high quality living.

I would have preferred a much more crowded place. I love human beings - watching them hustle and bustle around me. I love the roadside food and the second hand book shops that you can find almost at every street in Kolkata. I am will miss the fact that I can fly to my friends over a weekend.

I am going to miss the riot of colours in this country. I will miss the spring and summer. I will miss the monsoon, the rumbling of the skies. I will miss the fact that by taking a cheap flight, I can escape into the extreme opposite of whichever climate I am experiencing in this country.

I never knew I loved this country this much. Patriotism is not a word that I want to use. It is not about my country greatest. It is about something that is so inclusive, so cheap in its riches, so varied in its sins and nirvana...

Happy fish, sad fish

I miss Chennai.

The udupi hotel food, the low priced fruit shakes, the sea and the besant nagar sea bridge, the east cost road, the friends i had there, satyam theatre and Spencer plaza, the rains, the bike rides....

I miss Kerala.

The backwaters, the greenery in lavish abandon, the fish, the food, the underrated malabari biriyani with an egg, onion raita and yummy lemon pickle, the different pickles and fried tapioca, jackfruit, and what not, mashed tapioca, esoteric mallu breakfast of puttu, payar, kozhukatta, ada, jackfruits, various kinds of bananas, elephants, Rs 30 movie tickets...

I miss Jamshedpur.

The running into terabytes online movie collection, the roadside food experiences, the nights where i learnt to dance, the few friends and many acquaintances, the campus dogs, the beautiful streets and the houses, the riverside....

I miss Gurgaon.

The people in that office, the friends I have left there, the movies, the shopping malls, the hep eating and drinking holes, the all night parties, the all night drinking and talking sessions with work friends....


I will miss Kolkata.

College street, city centre, the old dilapidated houses, the white jamun, the roadside snacks whose name I always keep forgetting, the work, the responsibility that made me grow up....

I don't miss Chennai.

The dirt. The lack of water. The sweat.

I don't miss Kerala.

The leching men with hands like the tentacles of Medusa, who grope and grope and grope - till you either hit back or move away if possible. The apathy of the people around me. The pseudo intellectual crap of the arm chair activists which somehow irks more than the blatant commercialization of other cities.

I don't miss Jamshedpur.

The trying to fit in. The trying to be overly loyal and patriotic. The trying to put friendships and personal opinions above what needed to be said and done. The most times phony feeling of belonging.

I don't miss Gurgaon.

The feeling of being shouted at. The conflict between wanting my life back and not wanting to hurt my friends. The inability to again, take a stand for losing a friend. The overpriced everything.

I wont miss Kolkata.

The lack of friends. The people who try to make me dole out more just because I earn more. The selfishness and self centeredness of people whom I have met, interacted with, and who still think that they are doing me a favour. The lack of a shoulder to lean on at time, for sometimes professional and mostly non-professional guidance.

What do you look for in a job?

He looked at me, smiled in a slightly uncertain manner, and asked.

I looked up to his face, shining with the unshaken faith in business school friendships, senior/junior bonding and the fact that one year experience make me qualified to give him gyaan.

Run faccha run! Completing one year is about the beginning of selfdoubts, of paranoia, of delusion and hopefully some amount of self realization. We have started on the ride, give us some more time before you as us these questions, lest I shake your faith in the great B School ringmarole - a.k.a the campus placements.

I was in enemy territory. Atleast, according to my juniors, my clan which I had left one year back. I was asked to take lesser students from that campus, to show my loyalty to our blood.

But then I like them a lot.

Like them, may be much more better than the ones from my clan. Like them, as they seems to be more accepting of the fact that la vida es una perra, and still laugh at it. Like them, as they were introduced by a good friend / colleague.

So I was there, being friendly and professional at the sametime - which means smiling a monalisa smile when they ask about who all got the shortlist, nod sympathetically when they come and speak greatly about a friend of theirs who would absolutely love to get into our company - nod and smile, instead of scrowling at them or divulging any information, and intentionally blanking my mind to all the marketing done for the candidates by their friends.

And what did I look for in a job?

I told him this:

A chance to fatten my cv. Some call it getting exposure, but I connect it to the final outcome. I dont want to put anything on my cv which I cannot claim as mine or which I cannot speak about knowledgably, so that means grabbing opportunites and accepting them when offered.

So that if in the future I have to choose my personal life over my company - without zilch personal life, I dont see that happening anytime soon - I can pick and choose what I want to do and where I want to be.

I did not tell him this:

Fun. This is a no-brainer. If I am doing something ten hours a day, I better have fun doing that. This means being challenged, appreciated, ragged, teased - I guess a better word would be to feel alive.

Family. I think that more and more, I substitute my work colleagues for my friends and well wishers. Well, atleast a significant chunk of them anyway.

I dont feel as if I am part of my old clan anymore. I am in touch with a lot of them - and many of my good friends are from there, but I value them as individuals than them having the same brand as I do. There are a lot in that group whom I have already forgotten. And I guess I have found a new label to belong to. I know that even this may not be permanant, but as of now, I am fine with it.

Wounds

Yesterday, after a long long time - longer than I would have wanted, anyway - I cooked food.

Let me get something clear here - I do not consider anything involving 2 minute noodles or heat and eat packs cooking. I also do not classify anything related with eggs - oh phuleeze! How long does it take to cook it? Where is the challenge? - cooking.

For me, the cooking is the sorting, washing, cutting, mixing and allowing my hands to grab whatever they want to and add it to the food. I have never made the same stuff twice. Till now all my food has been new, age old mallu recipes ( I am a mallukutty after all ) mutated by random moments of insanity where I am a witch preparing strange concoctions.

In between cutting the vegetables, the phone rang. Somebody called up.

SB : Listen!
Me: I'm cooking - talk to you later!
SB: Listen to this joke - " blah blah blah "

If I have forgotten the joke, pardon me. It was not that great anyways. I groaned at the end of it, and tried balancing my mobile phone on my shoulder and continued cutting the vegetables. SB went forth to the second joke. I got distracted for a second, and sliced my finger. A bit - not really wanting a stitch, but a scar will remain forever.

"Listen to the third one!" SB was on the third joke, and I told him that I will call him later. I did not tell him about the cut finger. Blood - dark red like wine - was dipping on to the floor.

My self confessed cooking challenged flatmate and her equally inept friend who is staying with us for some time - " We have never ever cooked in our lifetime. Our parents never told us to!" - got the Dettol and other things, helped control the blood flow, and helped me with the rest of the chopping.

At the end of it, cut finger and all, I was happy. I had cooked good food, food which smelled, looked and tasted good. My magic worked. My roomie dug in with trepidation, then with gusto. Making the curry has been officially delegated to me, and I have got two enthusiastic cooking students.

The cooking went as follows:


1. Chop arbit veggies which you find. Potatoes, Cauliflower, Carrots, beans..

2. Add salt and oil to the potato and fry them for sometime, add more salt if you feel like it.

3. Sniff the food at regular intervals till you finish cooking.. Allow your mind to add whatever it wants to the food. ( I added ghee - but don't really remember when.)

4. Add some water, garam masala, the rest of the veggies except cauliflower and stir.

5. When the smell dictates, close the lid and go off.

6. When you feel like it, come back and stir and add tomatoes.

7. Stir. But mildly.

8. When the smell dictates, switch off the stove, and voila! yummy veg curry is ready.


Now this was yesterday. Today, the same Some body has caused a little bleeding somewhere within, some place which I reserve for friends. It doesn't need stitches, but I guess the scar will remain.

The cooking now, will go on.

Duffer men never know that...

A woman is fickle with her emotions - yesterday's undying proclamation of love, if not reciprocated, can turn today into tuning out when you drone on...

It's just a little crush (crush)
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just some little thing (crush)
Not like everything I do depends on you

That women do not hate each other as much as you think they do

That women bond better with each other than men

That a woman may love you with all her heart, but if you lie to her - well well... "the female of the species is more deadlier than the male..." unless, she choose to ignore or forgive you

That they love the trill of the chase

That they chase

That they can be "frequently kind and suddenly cruel" and they will "carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding"

That they learn to leave behind feelings like flower petals falling, converting each frown and drooped mouth into a wrinkle of wisdom and power

That they conjure up curses in the tears you make them shed and send them off to haunt you till the end of the earth

And then say....

You bored me with your stories

I cant belive that I endured you for as long as I did

Im happy its over, Im only sorry

That I didnt make the move before you

And when you go I will remember

To send a thankyou note to that girl oh that girl

I never really loved you anyway

No I didnt love you anyway

Valentino, I dont think so

You watching mtv while I lie dreaming in an empty bed

And come to think of it I was misled

My flat, my food, my everything

And thoughts inside my head

When men act like bitches, women act like witches. They call in their coven, and the curse follows the man across time and space; like a recurring bad dream which would frighten them into insomnia.

Two-faced daddy dont hand me no doublecross

Youll see any time Im ready

I can tell you baby get lost

Duffer men... they never know...

Strong inside but you don't know it
Good little girls they never show it
When you open up your mouth to speak
Could you be a little weak

Do you know what it feels like for a girl
Do you know what it feels like in this world
For a girl

Hair that twirls on finger tips so gently, baby
Hands that rest on jutting hips repenting

Hurt that's not supposed to show
And tears that fall when no one knows
When you're trying hard to be your best
Could you be a little less

Kiddo, we will have our vengeance. Bill will be killed.

NB:

1. This post is for the woman I love the most in the whole wide world. A wuss fooled her for a while, but she is nobody's fool. Amen to her!
2. The colors are my subconcious drooling over the news that Tarentino is planning a movie - love the flicks, love the man. Bring 'em on!

No music or lyrics

I do not know what exactly to say.

I do not know how exactly to say that too.

I don't think I am in a mood to hear concerned voices. I guess I have had enough of them - voices - in my head.

I think I am floating. I am shielding myself from caring too much about what I feel. It helps.

There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what you're sayin.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I cant explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

I also allow myself to be too exhausted by work. That helps, too.

My days are spent in front of a computer. Once every seven days I become a vampire, shunning light and sleeping the day away. I don't think I talk to anyone else.

Was I like this? Was I always chasing the dream of a better world?

When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.

Totto, I don't think I am in Kansas any more.

Show me the way to find myself
cause I'm nowhere in the darkness of these days

Plans for a journey

I have decided to pack my bags and be off. I plan to take a break during late April / May. I want to be either close to mountains, the sea or some old buildings. I would prefer to tour India, Srilanka or Nepal. It would be as economical as possible - local modes of transport, eating local food - except for stay.

I am looking at anything from 3 to 7 days. I would like to have company on this trip. Given that many people read my blog, let me know if you - yes, I mean you - would be interested.

Perfect strangers / first time visitors to my blog need not reply to this. Your gender or sexual orientation does not matter. I am looking for a person with whom I would feel safe enough to share a room (and vice versa) . And I really dont think that physical intimacy happens on autopilot when two people are staying in one room. No. Nyet. Nada.

What I am looking forward during these days:

Eating & drinking local food - but strictly hygenic food
Some amount of shopping, if possible - now now... give me brownie points for being truthful...
Taking many good pictures - arbit and random pictures, mostly.
Exploring the less travelled local roads - walking, tractors, bullock carts, camels, elephants, boats... I am open to them all.
Some time smack in the middle or far away from the madding crowd - I'm a girl of contradictions : live with it.
What you can expect:

Change the travel timetable midway : If you want to loiter, linger, feel free. I am not taking a watch along for these days.
Have local 'friends' : As long as your casual flings do not encroach into my living space, I will be fine whatever you do.
Go crazy : Because on the craziness meter, I can match you notch to notch.

What you cant expect:

Getting lucky with me
Expect me to drag you out of crisises created by your own stupidity - esp if it involves an armed crowd of pissed of localites.


If you like the plan, feel free to drop a comment. I'll be in touch.

Random thoughts.

I am impulsive. I overreact. I am the ultimate optimist. And as a result, I get hurt a lot at times. But I also have fun.

So now, I desperately try to think in rows and columns.I am afraid to dream. I hid behind commonsense when something good might happen in my life.

Today for a few minutes, I got a taste of what I actually has been asking for. It wasn't funny. At the end of it, I felt like shit. I looked more forlorn than any little kid you might have known ( and felt that bad too).

I am glad that people, some people at least, are stubborn or thick headed or whatever to not really care when I go on my buahaha trip.

Like somebody said sometime, I should fight for what I want. I may not get it, but, oh; its a helluva lot of fun than running away from things and self pity.

Feel free to point this out to me whenever I am thinking of giving up - I love being who I am - and am ready to take the baggage that comes with it.

Or in fewer words : " I'm not giving up on my books! I will get them back, and I wont give up the CDs!! Never!!!"

Psycho woman is back. :)

If you come today - South Indian English Video

I had taken a solemn oath never to post any fwds or other such stuff - but I must post this one here. Hilarious!

The lyrics:

Movie : Operation Diamond Racket
Singer: Rajkumar
Music Director : Venkatesh G K
Lyricist : Udayashankar (I am a fan of this person - he is GOD !)

If You Come Today !


If you come today, its too early
If you come tomorrow, its too late
If you come today, its too early
If you come tomorrow, its too late
You pick the time,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
Darling !

If you come today, its too early
If you come tomorrow, its too late



Did you say morning ? no, no, its not good,
Did you say evening ? no no, its too bad,
Did you say noon ? no no its not the time,
What did you say ?
Hey, what did you say ?
Nothing, oh its all right,
You pick the time,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
Darling !

If you come today, its too early,
If you come tomorrow, its too late.



Million drums beat in my heart,
Million dreams haunt my heart,
Million desires spring in my heart,
Million memories seize my heart,

Million drums beat in my heart,
Million dreams haunt my heart,
Million desires spring in my heart,
Million memories seize my heart.

You pick the time,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,

If you come today, its too early,
If you come tomorrow, its too late,
You pick the time,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
tik tik tik tik tik tik,
Darling !

Mumble Mumble Mumble... ( things which I really want to tell to certain people - but I dont)

To Book Thief: Give my books back. Now, this moment. All three of them. Don't even tell me your stupid jokes again. No way. Don't ever bloody tell me how nice it would be for me to go to Timbuktu, or get married to a Surd. As you very nicely pointed out, it's my problem; and this is how I deal with it. I am going to be transactional. And I will pay you for every little favour that I ask of you - in cash whenever possible, and in kind. Shoo! And yeah, minimalistic in my approach to you!

But gimme my books back! Else be prepared to get the skin on your arms peeled off. Now I know how you got those marks. Tiger attack, my foot!!

To Tai: Stop getting worried about me and doing regular checks on me. I am grumpy, I feel really stupid, but I will get through. This too, shall pass. And I am not a drunkard! And stop posting post modernistic stuff on your blog - heavy on symbolism like war paint on a punk themed party - difficult for me to understand.. hehehe.. :)

Don't worry!

To Cat: You go girl! I envy you - you just walked - or rather flew - to your dreams while I became too much of a chicken to do anything with my life.

Keep in touch or else! Awww... wont you keep in touch babe?

To Bastard: Take care! And ask her out. C'mmon, do it faaast!

To Ani: Gal, I love you... I love you... I love you....

To Boi: Yo, what are you gonna get me from Finland? Where is my book? My travel bag? And the phone calls pending from you??

To all my friends in love: May your happiness and understanding with each other increase... may you learn to love each other despite the faults in each other... may you see each other with warts and all and still think of each other as beautiful... ( also goes out to my ex-guys who are happy with their current women)

And if you cheat on the other, may your heart get broken into a million little pieceswith as much pain as possible in return. ( And watch it, my curses actually work! )

For others like me who feel sidelined and unloved on Valentine's Day: Booooo Hooo.... :((( Hooooowl...... :(((( Sob Sob Sob.....

:-)

Have a nice tomorrow everyone!

Of wimps and humans..

Whoever said that corporate life doesn't have its moments of humour would have never worked in an office.

During the placement season, companies get into the mad frenzy of upping the salaries. Coming from one of the better branded HR courses means that people who never even bothered to keep in touch will call you up one day.



The conversation would go like this. The protective arms around any set of words chronicle my mental audio at that time.



Me: Hello? ( Who is this? I hope I sound polite enough, busy enough and cheerful enough to steer my conversation whichever way).



XYZ: Hiiii... How are you doing? Long time no see....



Me: I'm okay... ( I cant say I'm fine - what if I get more work to do? I cant say I am NOT fine - what if on the other side its my parents who think that marriage is the cure all for not feeling fine due to whichever reason? ) ... Err.. who is this? ( Did I forget to update the phone number of ANY of my friends? )



XYZ: ( In his/her best hurtful tone ) Whaat? Its me! XYZ!!! ( more hurtful accusations follow which I ignore while reading through the latest fwd from my colleagues. Ha ha! that 5th cartoon is sooo funny...)



Me: ( After realizing that XYZ has stopped) So... why did you call me? ( Alrighty then, you were never close to me / liked me much and suddenly developed that lovin' feelin' for me? Huh! So cut the crap and cut to chase, shall we? )



XYZ: Hey! How much is your company offering students on campus?



ME: 8.2 lpa I think. ( I think means that I don't know / choose not to know /and even if my friend did tell me how much we are going to pay, I deliberately erased it from my memory a la Kate Winslet in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ( more on that movie one of these days.. remind me to talk about it..) )



XYZ: Oh!! My friend wanted to apply to your company...



Me: ( I don't mind you being rude or nasty upfront - at least, not as much as when you turn wimp and bitch about me behind my back or drop idiotic lies. Its better and manly/womanly to tell me upfront that you need the info for your company - or give no excuses.)
Really? Which B School is he from? What is his background? Doesn't he have a campus?
( In that borderline tone which can be interpreted as burning sarcasm or high officialdom. This is the moment I really love - when they squirm, when they blabber and stammer.)



XYZ: Eh.. cant hear you.. bye...



Me: Sure! Call whenever your 'friend' need any info... ( dip.. dip.. dip... that sound my friend, is sarcasm oozing out from my words and dipping to XYZ's ears when he/ she slams he phone down.)



Did the good deed for the day - didn't we?


Wish I could have posted a *.mp3 of the conversation here!

Feel free to ask me information - but atleast lets be honest about what you want! Follow the example of the apainter boy who calls, asks and accepts whatever I tell him without any hemming or hawing.

Story time!

Once upon a time, there was a little girl in a little town. She was the only child of her parents, and in a bout of misguided enthusiasm, her parents decided to make her the most perfect kid, ever.

As kids are born with faults, and a desire to question and disobey in the process, the parents decided to opt for corporal punishment. The now not so little girl's first memory of her life ever - is being suspended in mid air by her father holding her up and getting beaten. Household tales peg her at that time to be two. She had dared to be impolite to a guest during her birthday and refused to share the sweet porridge with her.

The little girl did not mind it much. For she thought that this was how all parents were. She did not go much into the houses of her friends, and even if she did, her parents were always ready to point out how easily the other kids obeyed their parents. So the little girl thought that she is being beaten because she is horribly bad, and that she herself is a bad bad child unlike the other kids, who love their parents despite the repeated beatings that they all have to undergo.

The little girl was pinched, hit, belted, shoved and pushed for her various misdemeanours by the time she was in class four. After that, her parents started to verbally abuse her. (I would have reproduced the abuses here, but for the 'objectionable content' flag of blogger.com) She never felt beautiful, felt that she was always too short or too tall, or too thin.

Years passed with no changes in the life equations. She still got abused, still thought that it was normal. She felt guilty as she did not love her parents, and her guilt validated the abuse that she was subjected to. She led a double life - happy and gregarious in school, dutiful in her extended family but feeling like the ugly duckling.

Somewhere along the line, she acquired spectacles. That it itself is an interesting story, for when she first noticed that she could not see and told the same to her mother, she accused her of lying and was chided for her attention seeking behaviour. It took many more months and a starting power of around -2.5 and -3 for her to get her first pair of glasses.

One fine day, her bubble was burst. Her friends in engineering hostel listened in horrified silence when she casually mentioned some of the abuses that her parents used to shower on her. Then it was her chance to be shocked and stunned as she was told that no, parents don't usually talk to their kids that way and no; kids also do not get beaten up that much.

At this point, I would like to write that the girl ultimately forgave her parents, her parents repented, she found the boy of her dreams and they all lived happily ever after.

You fools, but this is not a fairy tale. Realism sucks big time. The girl is now emotionally disconnected from her parents - she develops hypoallergenic drug requiring reactions when she talks to them ( can we have this in Ripley's believe it or not? ). She had met many men whom when she kissed, morphed from Princes to frogs and went croaking away. Her parents still think that they have done and are doing the best for her. She is over analytical, is a chronic pessimist, and need constant signs of approval and affection. She cannot go with the flow, she is too crippled for that. I think she is going to grow old and lonely and grow into a grumpy and silent old lady with a few dogs and cats for company. Or she may drink herself to liver cirrhosis and to early death. She doesn't care too much about herself anyways, and on bad days, the bitter reality of her life gnaws away at the last piece of rotting optimism in her kitchen shelf.

Now you know why she never goes home.

Now you know why she is chronically insecure and looks out for insults when none is implied.

Now you know why she doesn't want to get too close to you.

Now you know why she gets close to you despite not wanting to be close to you.

Now you know why she drinks herself to oblivion.

Now you know how she knows good things will never happen to her.

Now you know how she knows she is never good enough.

Now you know why she loves animals so much.

And like a doctor who is a drug junkie, she knows what is wrong, but cannot cure herself.

Ha ha! Gotcha you fellers! What did you expect, another sappy happy story? There is lot more to tell, but lets save it for another day, shall we?

Bits of chatter & some politically incorrect thoughts

"Long time guys, loooong time.."

"So girls, wassup?"

"Don't ask babe, don't ask..."

" So um... are you guys still.. ummm... "

"Us? Which one are you talkin about? "

"Err.. so I think that means a no.."

"Oh, Him??? Nope. No way. Finito."

"Hmm..."

"Shut up dude, just because I gave it a shot the past 3 times when things went wrong doesn't mean than I will do it this time, you know."

"Right.. so whose the new guy? Ohmigawd!!! Don't tell us you have fallen for your boss! Do you know how much they are paying you?"

"Yo babes, wait it out man. None of your crushes last for more than three weeks!"

"Dude!"

"It's cool yaar. And its not my boss. Yuck! What a thought!"

"But...?"

"How do you know there is a but? Aaaaaargh... I'm in love with one of my clients.... aaaargh!!!!"

"Love??? Heyhey... lets not go overboard - why dont we use the term crush?"

"Aaaargh!!! I'm so unprofessional! My career will go down the drain... aaargh...."

"What? Do you guys make out or something in your office?"

"DUDE!!!!"

"Dude I just asked.... they way she was reacting.... okay... stop blushing and tell me what exactly you do..."

"I .. errr... ermmm.. call him up... like.... errr... every day.... to ask about the project and all... and we talk...."

"I guess its cool man - she is imagining the whole stuff up as usual."

"Shit woman! Does your boss know? Back off ASAP!"

"Err... that's the problem - he actually gave me a public recommendation for my high level of client engagement..."

"Heheheheheeeee!! Client engagement!! I like it!! Me likey likey!! very very!!!!!"

"SHUTTAAPP!!!"

"Sorry dude.. really sorry... madam, what about you?"

"Err.. you know.. he finally wants to marry me.. yeah, so we are trying to get a similar location and all that... but I don't think it will go on, you know... "

"Hmm.. yeah..."

"Actually, I guess I never really liked him... we are actually thinking of calling it off... I met his younger brother last week -he is kinda cute... and he takes such good care of me..."

"Then do it na... instead of cribbing so much.."

"Yeah but what do we tell our common friends?"

"Yo, ask those morons to go to hell. If ANY of them want to ask you anything, as them to come to me.. I will give an explaining which they wont forget in a hurry - you guys wanna breakup, you breakup! You wanna date his kid bro, you date his kid bro! "

"I may take up the offer da... lets see... btw, what about you? "

"Bye gals, gotta go.. byeee..."

"Not so fast...."

"Shattttaaaaaaaaaaaap!"

Oh, btw, the voices reflected above are an amalgamation of the voices of my friends. Any use of the words woman, man, dude, dudette - they are used to guide, not to point at anyone - from a particular place, company or gender. We are the lost souls. We left our childhoods long back by some dusty roadside; yet we yearn for the relative simplicity and the never shaken optimism that everything is going to be alright the next moment, hour or day. We know we are growing old, but how we resist it - by looking and talking young.

We are the boats which are moving confidently to the sea, but we not know yet if we will sink or crash or even have a slim chance of miraculously reaching some unknown land.

Each of us is isolated in his or her own path. Our paths cross, but we still have to travel lone, sail alone, in search of the meaning of our search.

Whisper a prayer for us, for we are the ones who are forgotten in the prayers as we are cursed with youth. The old are remembered in the prayers of their children, the children are taken care of by the world. The poor have morality and justice to feel for them, the neglected do have their guardian angels, however few or far in between.

We are the ones who are cursed with blessings, expected to be happy. We are the ones who cannot cry, for they have not defined our tears.

We, the youth.

Of hims and hers and thems

Thank God for women.


In a mad mad day which is a Friday, it is better if you are surrounded by women.


Women are born perfectionists. We think that it is our duty to make sure that everything goes well. We agonize over what we tell men and other women long after they have forgotten them. We hate raised vocies, unless that of mirth and merry making.


Its much more easier to travel with women. You dont have to go knocking to one door after another in the morning for toothpaste. You can giggle over chocolates and express your love for MLTR.


You can hug them tight when you see them after sometime, and nobody is going to snigger ( except may be brain dead men).


Should I thank God for men?


They are so thick skinned, that a banged down phone, a failure to turn up to meet them - well, not in that case - or giving importance to work doesnot worry them. Maddeningly, most of the avenues which you use to express anger goes un noticed.


Thankfully, most of the avenues which you use to express anger goes un noticed.


May be I should just thank God for friends.


They are the first to tell you to get out of a toxic relationship - be it family, boyfriends, crushes or colleagues.


They are the first to notice that you dont eat right, that you have something good going on, that you need a hug, that you need a reality kick ( and deliver it).


They are the ones who can be shameslessly curious about your crushes, love mishaps and everything.

They are gloriously selfish about you and your well being.


They keep your memory sticks, cable connectors and camera covers safe, and return it on time.


They are the ones who can walk in and out of your life - and you let them.


Yeah, I'm just glad for my friends.

Snippets of conversation

Just adding snippets of conversations here.. too zonky to do anything more... If I edit or put the conversation out of context, kindly grant me poetic ( or prosaic? ) liberty!

Hey ... saw your post.. it touched a chord...

One of my best friends, someone who had agonised for me and felt bad for me. We are like chalk and cheese - but we do maintain our bond of sisterhood and let it be, for many more births, across distances. And that brings us to...

I will dot you :D

When one of your sunshine gals put that flag up, you do ask her back - via the same channel, ofcourse - what she means. (In mallu tongue, the word for dot and stab is the same -kuthu). At the end of a 5 minute conversation, we both get senti and say buy - who is the moron who feels that distances matter? And that reminds me of...

ya i suffer from bouts of temporary insanity

This person should be cloned and passed around for his amazing ability to make people laugh and generally feel good. Kindred soul? Passing traveler? Too soon to categorize - let it be! I am enjoying the journey too much to worry about the destination. And with his acerbic wit, he is in sharp contrast with...

And I may marry her

Good for you! You do need a woman to take care of you - and I hope she knows how lucky she is. Else she will be on her way to get bitchslapped from me! And the word bitch brings to mind...

Where are you, bitch?

Do you know that your smses freak out my friends? ( And my replies to them too.) Fellow loony, still hurting from a situation which cannot be blamed on anyone - not even her - as much as I want to, let me be fair here. You can be as rude as you want with me ( and vice versa) but we know what we are and where we stand with each other. May you be able to love again my friend, without being on auto-comparison mode. And that reminds me...

Dey, veettil van kalips...

Hang in there, hold on, but dont friggin pass any nice mallu momma's boy's to my parents you imp! And may your gult boy and you lead a happy n long married life - to each other - without any guilt pangs.

Paulo Coelho and the journey of Love.

It has been a while since I just finished reading a Paulo Coelho.

Some books are searched out and bought. Some books are given to you, recommended. Some books come to you, unbidden messages which solidifies all the anxiety and love that people who care for you have.

Paulo Coelho's books have that quality for me. They came to me, unbidden, when I was grappling with my love demons. They came, they talked, and gave me the strength to either face a situation or walk away from one.

Alchemist told me that it is okay to fall in love, lose yourself in it. But don't expect to end your journey then and there, for often the seemingly end is the unlocking of a journey within yourself.

Eleven minutes taught me that it is okay to live the way you like with your soul and body. My friends loved the book more for its sexual descriptions, but it helped in undoing my prudishness.

Devil & Miss Prym told me that it is okay to be tempted, but in the end, you always have the choice to take a stand.

Fifth mountain helped me to get in terms with my loss, dust it off my mind and walk ahead.

Zahir told me to hold on to my obsession ( my ideal of what I want from love) - I did not listen, and my life was a parallel - of course a much milder version - of the book in the months to come.

Now, Like a Flowing River told me that I am making the right decisions, that I need to love and lose - at times deliberately, so that when love comes calling again in whichever form it choose, I can welcome her into my heart with all happiness, without prejudices.

Warrior of the Light and Pilgrimage are like anchors - they are rooted deep within me; both coming at a time of doubts and depression - both speaking into me and helping me to help myself.

Dear friend, you asked me what do I feel when I am in love. I feel alive, happy, giggly, blushing when they come over and talk to me, and indulgent.

I also realise and accept that I may not like everything about them, I stop any attempt on my part to criticize them or change their ways, I don't try to force fit them into my life - as I don't allow them to do that to me too.

I understand that being in love with one person doesn't mean switching off my brain, and that I - and them - may feel attracted to other people. Whether we act on it is more of a question of being true to ourselves that to the relationship.

I know love so well that when it is drooping, I try my best to revive it, but when it is drawing its last breath, I realise that I should not live in the past and should move on.

Babul is undoubtedly one of the most corniest movies I have seen. However, from that movie I badly translate a line spoken by Amithabh Bacchan. When talking to Rani Mukherjee, his daughter in law who is grieving her husband's death and living in his memories, he say thus:

"Look at the ocean in front of you. It is full of water which flows, acts like water, is like water to touch and store. However, you cannot quench your thirst with it as it is salty. Living in the memories of a relationship is like that. You may feel you are living a life, but such a life is not life, but mere existence."

I have learned, to drink from the flowing river of love, identifying my love every day, hoping for it in the future, watching it contributing to the ocean of memory, but never content in being stagnantly attached to the past.

I say this with no ego, no sense of "wow! look at me." I have learned, and I feel and think that I am at least worthy of drinking from the flowing river.

And I thank my guardian angels, Paulo Coelho and my good friends who asked me "are you sure?" and " i just want to tell you this" when I was trying to quench my thirst with memories.

May your rivers overflow and aid the banks bloom, may they never dry, may you look at the ocean in wonder and amazement, but never ever try to drink from it.

Amen.

Life gyaan ver.2006

1. Friends come and go.

2. Never think that you will not work or be friends with a particular person. They may turn out to be a wonderful friend.

3. It is important to help your friends. It is equally important to stop doing it when it starts pushing you down the drain.

4. If a person constantly puts you down in public, it is okay to talk back. If they don't respect your choices in life, they are not really your friends.

5. Watching movies, shopping, taking a walk - doing all these by yourself never diminishes they joy you get out of these simple activities.

6. Sometimes, time is more precious than money.

7. Never ever imagine that you can change people's fundamental nature.

8. It is okay to say No.

9. Trusting people makes it less stress free at work.

10. Listen to feedback. But then think about it and if found useful, act on it.

11. Nobody is perfect.

12. Respect yourself. Nobody is integral to your life. Yeah it hurts when people come and go, but you cry some, lick your wounds in private and may be with some friends, but then get up and is ready to soar again.

13. It is never too late to go back to a set of people whom you have left behind and make amends, create friendships.

14. Sometimes apologies or explanations are not accepted. Don't brood over them, move on.

15. Know your limits when it comes to spending money, drinking alcohol, cutting down on sleep, going wild.

16. Listen to your conscience. Learn to separate it from the doubting voices in your head.

17. Swearing is good - but only in private, with friends.

18. Dont be afraid to reach out to people if you think they can do with your help.

19. Dont treat kids as kids. Treat them as equals if you really want to know them.

20. Sometimes, its better to sit back and wait for the other person to call/email/sms you.

New year resolutions:

1. Call / mail/ scrap / chat / talk with one friend a day.

2. Read a few pages of something every day.

3. Write one paragraph on anything every day.

4. Drink lots of water after having lots of non healthy stuff.

5. Not try and run other people's lives. Cain got it right when he said that he is not Abel's keeper ( even though the context was not right)

6. Run away from cribbers, whinnies and negative people. Im not Momma Teresa, and I have a friggin life to enjoy without being bogged down by negativity.

7. Relent above rule for people whom I love, and sometimes for people who love me.

8. Dont love everyone ( ref #7)

9. Stop feeling guilty for small stuff.

10. Keep fit by eating healthy & exercising.

PS: Pls remind me of these if I slacken on them!

There she (and he) goes...

In Finland now.

It is a desolate place. Lonely, lovely lady. Not much jewellery, but regal in her simplicity.

The houses look alike... and brings back the memory of old USSR picture books where it was a Koshka or an Olya or Misha who had fun in the Birch woods. They evoke the old sense of wonder, of magic in mind. Narnia, here I am. Fairies and Hobbits, I am in your land.

The sun was good to us he stayed longer than usual. The wind was kind - she did not try to freeze us to death. The rain decided to stay away, and so did the snow.

Hanukkah candles and Christmas lights peeped at us from every window.

Met with a friend and his wife yesterday evening. He works in the same company, and they picked me up from my hotel and took me to theirs. Leaving him to scratch his head over work, we left for the nearby shopping mall. The displays, the decorations, the precocious kids.... women can spend time in companionable silence yearning over very many things and light hearted banter over men.

Back to their hotel. My friend is still at work, and later - after some Irish Whiskey and exchanging notes over some authors, we left for dinner.

Surprise, surprise! Finland sleeps very early. At 9 pm, our only option is an Indian restaurant. We get inside, and are greeted with a menu which has a Kashmiri dish with coconut ( err.. hello?? when did they start having coconut trees in Kashmir? ) and a remix video which is more soft porn than anything else.

"Seesh... no wonder the MNCs are coming to India.."

"Yeah, they think this is what they get back there.." my friend snorts, completing his wife's comment. They sit together in a booth, looking more like college kids than married couple.

After a meal which was surprisingly better than what we expected, its a short walk to the taxi stand for my cab.

There they go. Two Geminis, born on the same date; one tall and kiddish, the other petite and mature. Little does they know, but they did make a very convincing case of getting married and waiting for six years to get married to the right guy.