What's in a name?

I think it should be made a rule that only Mothers should have the power to name their babies. Unfair, you say? No, I think.

Look at it this way, the surname of the baby is almost always the father’s, right? (except of course a certain Miss Konkana Sen Sharma). So it’s only fair that the other part of the baby’s name be the Mother’s choice!!

And if the father wants to name the baby, he can. Sure!

But in that case, the baby will have the Mother’s surname!!! Fair enough, I think.

Tiring (and Trying) Thursdays

Is it just me or is everybody feeling as low?

This is what I have been asking all and sundry since morning. In their bid to comfort me, some reassured me saying, “ Oh! Don’t worry it’s the balmy weather, you see”.

Yeah, right. Balmy you, more like it (*sticks out her tongue at these people*).

Yesterday, I saw a friend’s innovative wedding invite. For privacy reasons I can’t share it here (their privacy, of course), but there was something that caught my eye.

Right at the end of the innovative invite, they had listed some “partners” who helped facilitiate their “merger” (excuse the bad pun. If you must, blame it on my financial journalism milieu). So the point I was making was that after reading it, I unconsciously thought of such “partners” and the great part they have played in my love story.

And I thought it would be fun to list them (yeah, the truth is I am completely jobless right now with nothing better to do).

So here goes (in no particular order):

Art of Living: No, none of us are part of the NGO. But purifying your body and mind by exfoliating the negative inside you is definitely one of Art of Living’s mantras, right? Ah, the joys of being able to bitch about your boss, the favourite sidekick (whom I have named Langda Tyagi) and others like them, is almost like an orgasm. Haven’t tried it? You must.

Andhra Bhawan canteen: An austere-looking uncle glares at us every time we land at their gates to gulp down their awesome thaali. “No uncle, we have only come to eat, we won’t do any hanky-panky”, I almost feel like telling him. Alas! The courage always deserts me at the last moment—and nothing else matters (not even the boyfriend!) at the sight of that thaali. Drool!

Autorickshaws: Major credit has to be given to these green-and-yellow-fleecing saviours of lovers in Delhi. Of course, most of the time I am cutting the boyfriend off mid-sentence asking him to speak in English. I mean how generous do you think I can get? Letting them fleece us, give me lusty looks in the rear view mirror AND knowing all about our lovers’ tiff? Sorry, the last one I won’t allow (not that I can control the first two). So the poor guys look on dazedly at the road and then at us gibbering away in a language they don’t follow and resign themselves to their fate. Life is bliss!

Langda Tygai (LT): Yes, she deserves one whole exclusive point to herself. Okay, a major reason behind this is that she is in my direct line of vision and I have this great urge to beat the pulp out of her and then hang her to dry in Rajasthan—along with BT (Big Tyagi). Our daily conversations (me and my boyfriend’s of course) are never complete without me following Art of Living’s mantra (see point 1) to banish the LT-BT-ness around me.

Letters to Editor: No, we didn’t write them. We sort of faked them. This was when we were working for the other newspaper. The Edit page was a big pain-in-the-ass. The nutcase Editor had an allergy against most writers. So we found ourselves bantering over fictional names. Whether he should be called Ramlal Kanpuriya or Vijay Dinanath Chauhan.

Well, this is all I can think of now (truth is, I am already bored). So ciaao, till we meet again.

Confessions of a Shopaholic

The course of the events described below happened over the course of two days: This Saturday and Sunday. Well, it could be any Saturday or Sunday. You get the drift? Yes?

South Ex:

Last year I read a book I fell in love with: The Zoya Factor. So when the writer released her second book this month, I had to have it. I mean I could have waited some time and bought it a bit cheaper maybe. But then the plot would already be public, right? And I couldn't wait for the book to reach the pirated market. So what if I could have saved a few bucks? I mean, what's the point? These poor writer-log have to make a few bucks too, right?

So I walk into Midland and grab the first copy of Battle for Bittora I can lay my eyes on (these bookstore people, by the way, are really smart. No book you want will ever be hard to reach/find, lest you change your decision). Oh wait! What is that? Do I see a book by Lauren Weisberger of Devil Wears Prada fame? When did Last Night at Chateau Marmont come out? And why didn't I hear about it? Of course, I have to have it. Come on, I have read all her books and loved them!

Me: "How much will that be?"

Cash counter guy: "Rs 480 ma'am"

Me: "Can I have a carry bag please?"

PVR Saket:

There are two-three stalls selling old books in the complex. I am watching Do Dooni Chaar there. In between a particularly boring patch in the movie, I find my mind wandering to those tempting stalls waiting to be devoured out there. Movie finishes. As fast as my legs can carry me, I rush out.

Stall No. 1:

Me: "Bhaiyya, Shopaholic ki koi kitaab hai kya?"

The eyeing-cleavage kinda bhaiyya: "Nai, madam"

Stall 2:

Me: "Bhaiyya, Shopaholic ki koi kitaab hai kya?"

The eyeing-cleavage kinda bhaiyya (yes, they are all into eyeing cleavage. Maybe that's why some of them lay out there books/wares on the ground. Better view, eh?): "Nai, madam"

Stall 3:

Me: "Bhaiyya, Shopaholic ki koi kitaab hai kya?"

Yeah, yeah same kinda guy: Haan madam, ek hai.

JACKPOT!

Me (eyes shining): Dikhao

From somewhere he fishes out a book called Shopaholic takes Manhattan. Something seems odd. I know the names of all the Shopaholic books I've yet to read. This is NOT one of them. So is this a fake? Hmm...

Me: "Kitne me doge bhaiyya?

Bhaiyya: 200

Me: 150 mein de do bhaiyya (wait, why am I bargaining? It's a fake, right? So why will I buy it?)

Him: Chalo, le jao

Me: Ek polythene de do bhaiyaa

Ok, let me explain. Maybe it's a fake. But I am getting it for Rs 150!! It's super cheap. Who knows, maybe I will like it as much as the originals! Why take a chance?

Def. Col:

The shop that sells second-hand books has Shopaholic and Baby and The Twenties Girl sitting pretty on a shelf. And they are looking so adorable! Come on, how can I resist them? I love Sophie Kinsella! (For proof, read PVR Saket).

Me: Bataiye, bhaiyya kitne me denge?

Him: Chaliye aap ke liye 450 de dijiye.

Me: Ek polythene de dijiye.

Dayal Opticians:

The person behind the counter is enthusiastically showing me frame after frame.

Him: "See this, madam. This is very good and only Rs 1,500"

Me (putting it on and looking in the hand mirror): "Naah"

Him: "What about this one? It's sturdy and smart"

Me (putting it on): "How much?"

Him: "Only Rs 1,800 madam"

Me (looking into the mirror): "No, I don't like it"

Him: "See this one"

Me (trying it): "How much is this for?"

Him: Rs 3,000

Me (looking in the mirror): "I'll take this"

Come on, that was the only frame I liked! And it's not like I am going to buy a frame everyday, am I? And it looked good on me!

Shopper's Stop:

I am sitting at a table. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a lady picking up a sweater and calling someone over to show it. Yeah, that sweater looks really nice. I should go and check it. What's the harm in looking, eh? I zip towards the rack and try the sweater. Mmmm.....it's nice. And it has a cap too. I only have one sweater which has a cap, and yes you guessed it, I love sweaters with caps.

Me at the cash counter: "I will take this please"

Counter boy: "That will be Rs 999 ma'am"

Me: "Can I have a carry bag please?"

Mobile Store:

Me: "I want a black Nokia EXX model"

The guy: "Black is out of stock ma'am"

Me: "But I want the black one only"

Guy: "Why don't you try this BlackBerry phone ma'am? It's much, much better. And it will only cost you Rs 3,000 more"

Me: "Hmmm"

Guy: "Let me assure you ma'am, anyone who uses a BlackBerry becomes a 'Berryholic' you know!"

To be continued....

My security blanket

It's you. Yes you! Of course, you irritate the hell out of me (by giving me solutions when I only want a sympathetic ear). You make me angry (yeah I know it's not particularly hard, but..). You make me roll my eyes at you (when you say you don't notice other girls). You make me impatient (when I ask you to tell me a film's story and instead of wrapping it up in a paragraph, you go on and on describing every scene). You get on my nerves (with your loud reactions). You make me sulk (for not calling me enough times in a day/for calling too much). But there is something you do that makes my heart sing.

You make me beautiful, loved and happy. You make me all these things and more. But more than anything else, when I rest my head on the pillow at night, you make me feel secure. And here's why:

-- Walking in malls. Scoffing at the outrageous prices. Guessing a clutch at Zara to be priced at Rs 500, only to open it and see the Rs 5,500 price tag. Making a hasty exit laughing at the absurdity of it all (I know you fear if we stay any longer, I might actually buy it).

-- Eating out. You asking me to decide what we shall eat (sometimes, making me mad at you for always putting me to the task).

-- A movie of my choice on Saturdays. At a theatre of my choice.

-- Telling me secrets I should not be told (like what happens at a boys' night out).

-- Never hanging up without saying 'I love you'. Even when we (read: I) fight.

-- Buying me books. Lots of them :)

-- Forgiving me even before I say sorry. And not sulk about it later.

-- The thought 'How am I looking?' not crossing even once through my mind when I am with you.

-- Those companionable silences.

-- Laughing at my jokes. However lame they may be.

-- Always taking my side when I tell you about my catfights with other girls (though really, you have no other option).

-- Taking care of my phone/Internet bills every month.

-- Those amazing, at-the-speed-of-light calculations you provide (how much change I should get back, what does 23% off on a Rs1,295 purse translate to, etc. etc.) when I am shopping.

-- For being the rock. Not on my finger, but in my life.

There are things that can't be penned down. For everything else, there's The Blog!

Till then Ciaaooo!

P.S.: In case, anybody's wondering about the pic, then no, I am not blonde. I flicked it off apna pyaara Google.

How to have better S.E.X.*

Aarghhhh! It's been so long since my fingers actually typed something for my blog. Well, to tell you the truth, I am actually quite disillusioned with the Internet (but more on that maybe in another blog post). Actually, I have nothing to write on/about.

I mean no one would be interested in knowing such things about my life as:

• My roommate is never in the room (yeah I know that's nothing to complain about. I get the whole room to myself, but sometimes I yearn for some company). Where she goes is a mystery. She pops in at odd times/days for an hour and two, gets a missed call and whoosh! she is gone again. One day (when she was on another blink-and-you-miss-me appearance after 20 odd days), I cheekily asked her: Ghar gayi thi? To which, she said: Nai. And then she was gone again. I didn't lose hope. About 15 days later, when she came again, I said: Ummm...will you be staying back? (*hangs her head in shame*). She replied: Nai. On pressing a little, she told me, Bhaiyya ke ghar ja rahi hun. Bhaiyya aha!

• I like watching Dance India Dance. But I think the grandmaster, Mithun is super unfair. When he really likes a performance, he says: "Main tumhe kuch dena chahta hun". Just as my eyes start to light up, he gets up and gives some Grand Salute-thingy, which has contestants and their mentors (and even those two shrieking anchors) writhing and convulsing in their places as if they have just had an orgasm. Oh! how much I miss a certain Saroj Khan, who doled out some needed cash (excuse me, Rs 100 is a big amount..humph!) to those contestants she liked. And don't even get me started on Mithun's "kya baat (say it 3 times)" torture.

On that note, I better quickly wrap up this post (not because I have run out of stupid things to say, but 'coz there is no electricity and my laptop battery is dying). But not before asking the readers (if there are any. *puts away laptop and prays for 2 minutes--even though the laptop battery is dying--that someone reads this*) of this maha-faaltu (of course, I am exaggerating. You know me! Duh!) blog post to share with me such silly anecdotes.

Till then....Ciaaaao!

* And yes. The headline of this post is not connected in any way with its content. I just gave it for the heck of it (to grab more eyeballs) *laughs likes Rahul Mahajan*.

Happiness is:

• Auto rides on Delhi roads with P on Saturdays. Destination be damned, it's the ride that's most enjoyable.

• Being able to write a good blog post, creative juices flowing like water from a spring.

• Seeing Mom and Sister happy.

• Clicking pictures.

• Spending the whole day with P. Going to watch a film, shop, pick up chicken on way back, reach his place and cook together.

• P saying he loved a movie, I dragged him for against his wish.

• Hearing the trademark Indian railway announcement, "Dilli se Mumbai jaane wali gaadi sankhaya XYZ platform no. 3 pe aane waali hai" standing on the railway platform, waiting for my train. And that priceless bit of music before and after the announcement.

• Talking to P at night for hours on the phone.

• The ride in the cycle rickshaw through familiar streets and corners from bus stand to home in hometown.

• Mom-made food

• Weight loss!

• After incessant scorching sun, RAIN.

• After incessant rain, SUN.

• Buying clothes and shoes and jewellery and handbags and chocolates.

• Seeing a good play.

• Friday evenings in office. The weekend few hours away!!

• Babies' laughter

• Watching TV with P.

• Binging on chicken--any form/preparation is good. Chicken is chicken!

• Long drives in car, with good music, light rain falling outside.

• Resigning from a job, taking a break before joining the new place.

• The days spent in Hyderabad. Those lonely jaunts in autos to Salarjung Museum, Hyderabad Central, Eat Street, IMAX.

• A rainy day, sitting by the window watching the rain fall, smell of wet earth, a cup of coffee and a good book.

• P cooking Maggi for me.

• Seeing men treat the women in their lives with the respect and love they deserve.

• Seeing "invisible" people like doormen, liftmen, delivery people, sales people smile because I said thank you and asked how they are doing.

• Handing a pack of biscuits lying around in my handbag to a child beggar sticking his hand inside my auto with hopeful eyes.

• Looking at myself in the mirror--and liking what I see.

• Bunking from office and lazing around at home.

• Knowing there will be P to listen to me crib about a perfectly rotten day at work.

• Doing what I love doing most--being a free bird, flying high, aiming for the stars.

On that note, I think I should end (otherwise the bullet points would only keep increasing). If you have stayed on this page till now, I bow down to your patience and big-heartedness. Thanks! Till then, Ciaoo..

More Awards!!!

Gulp! Shruti (generosity redefined) passed on two (gulp! gulp!) awards to this eccentric, irregular, narcissist and unworthy blogger. Guess, thanks would be in order. Yippeeeeeeee!

My Little Friends

I have been toying with the idea of photo-blogging for a long time. But when I actually got down to it, I was in a fix. Which pictures to choose from the sea of pictures I have taken over the years for my debut here? Finally, I settled on sharing some pics of the cute, little ones in my collection. Hope they bring a smile to your face too!


This little chap I clicked before getting on the Singapore flyer. He was waiting in his dad's arms for his turn.



A rainy day in office and the mood to have some bhutta propels me out. On the road, this little urchin offers to sell me some pen. I offer him a bhutta instead. He says, "Deal"!



A star in the making! Shot at a function last year.



A little dolly cum Miss Congeniality. Taken at Grand Hyatt, Singapore.



Am sure when Barbie was small, she would have looked like this doll here. I took this picture at Ansal Plaza, New Delhi.



Another gem found at Grand Hyatt, Singapore. So cute he was, my phone begged me to take his picture!



Baby Red Riding Hood. Dressed to kill.



Happy face, happy smile. This one-year-old I found while on a trip home.



And last but not the least, Shinchini. I clicked Shinnchini's picture at Moolchand Hospital, New Delhi. Our eyes met and I was hers. Totally under her spell. This is my favouritest pic!!

Better Late than Never

A really, really, really (Ok I shall stop now) long time back, the very sweet lostworld passed on The Honest Scrap award to me. The process for “accepting the award” required the winners to disclose 10 honest things about themselves. On a self-imposed hiatus that I was (was = am) on, this post took a lot of time.

So ladies and gentlemen, before you munch on my 10 juicy truths, let’s get over and done with the boring part first (what to do? It’s necessary. Sulk!).

The rules to rightfully claim this award are:
1. I must thank the person who gave me the award and list their blog and link it --- My dear lostworld, thank you!
2. I must list 10 honest things about myself --- 10 (gulp!) kuch zyaada nai hai?
3. I must put a copy of Honest Scrap logo on my blog --- If only it had been a bit more visually appealing (Ok I shall not rant)
4. I must select at least 7, 8 other worthy bloggers and list their links --- Tough, tough, tough. Mere jaise log hai kahan aaj kal?
5. I must notify the bloggers of the award and hopefully they will follow the above three requirements also --- Hopefully? They better!

There, we are done and we are happy again. Sunshine, sunshine everywhere :)
So people, put on your seat belts, ‘coz here we go:

1. I CAN’T dance. In a family full of dancers (a young cousin can even make Shakira run for her money), I find myself hiding under beds, inside almirahs and faking fever to escape the “come, let’s dance” public humiliation. I might even be some long-lost relative of Dharmendra. But hey, that’s not my secret. The secret is that when we listen to music, we close our eyes, and voila! We imagine ourselves dancing like a ballerina! And I swear, some moves I make there in my imagination, can put any ballerina to shame. Talk about “mind over matter”!!

2. I can’t see any woman in pain. Friend, family, stranger—doesn’t matter. My blood starts boiling and I feel like killing the man responsible for her pain (No, am not anti-men). But this is something I can’t explain. Maybe the feeling stems from the fact that I belong to a family which has some very strong women. Take, for instance, my nani. She only studied till class 7. Married to an Air Force officer (my nana), she had to hear taunts about her “not knowing English” all the time. One fine day, at the ripe old age of 60, she picked up a notebook, a pencil and a dictionary, and started teaching herself the Queen’s language. As things stand today, in an average sentence of hers, 7 out of 10 words are English!

3. I do not like fair men (with the sole exception of Rahul Gandhi). I mean why can’t they get some tan? Who wants to live with a male Barbie? Bah!!

4. I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Bottles, books, papers etc. etc. have to be neatly stacked, with the labels showing in the front. All things, at all times have to be at the “perfect angles”. Nothing lopsided, falling out, or coming in the way.

5. I LOVE the idiot box. And I watch most reality shows on television. Yes, even the ones that suck (read Rahul Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, in which I take crude interest watching Rahul Mahajan, looking like a rapist chote thakur, eyeing the wannabe girls chorusing “We love you Rahul”. And yes, the girls suck too. Big-time). And I especially love those reality shows in which contestants fight with each other. Seeing people make a fool of themselves—sheer pleasure!

6. For a major part of my life, I thought I looked like Jennifer Lopez (yes, I know stupid me!). When my darling, my sweetest mother first saw me watching a J.Lo music video in school, she looked at her and said, “Arre beta, J.Lo looks like you” (Note. Not “you look like her”, but “she looks like you”). Mothers! I tell you.
These days she thinks Rani Mukherjee resembles me.

7. Lately, I have turned very superstitious. Especially, the “nazar-lagna” thingy. There was a time, when I laughed at people who bothered about such things. Little did I know, that one day, I would be joining their ranks.
Now, you will find me not wearing black on important days, not repeating a piece of cloth, that proved to be unlucky before, wearing my “lucky” clothes and trinkets for interviews, special occasions etc etc.

8. I like observing random women, more than I like looking at guys (and no, I am not a lesbian). It’s just that there is so much to see and observe in a woman—what’s she wearing, how she’s styled her hair, her handbag, her shoes, her jewellery—Need I go on?

9. Generally, out of 10 random people I meet or interact with, on any given day, I end up disliking 9. I find something or the other to not like in most people. But hey! I am not all bad. I like that 1 person, don’t I?

10. I have NEVER been able to watch a full love-making scene on television (both English and Hindi films), without an elder walking in suddenly, and me jumping up and hurriedly changing the channel. Of course, by the time the person leaves, and I switch back to the channel, the hero and heroine are over with their business and calmly sipping tea in their drawing room.

PHEW! That was long and tiring. Now, let me quickly list my favourite “honest” people on Blogsville.

With Malice: I don’t think I have ever read better original Hindi poetry before this. Meri do chamach waali Maggi is just plain genius. He reminds me of a certain Mr Gulzar.

Let Me Be Me: She is short, sweet and mostly to-the-point. I find myself eagerly clicking the link whenever she updates her blog.

Tamanna: Honest and in-your-face. Lately though, there has been no activity on the blog. One wonders why…Hopefully, this award will change things!

Ek cup coffee: My first blogger friend, who continues to write from her heart!

BlossomBlue: She is poetic, she is sentimental and she is straight-from-the-heart.

From my corner: She sometimes reminds me of me. Nice blog!

Mood: Happy
Music I am listening to: Dhan-Te-Nan

For all my blogger friends

As I start writing this, I suddenly remember those movies I watched as a kid, which were set in a very "futuristic" 2010. When film-makers made us believe that in the year 2010 or so we would be going to office flying in our own saucer-shaped cars, or that there would only be aliens ruling our planet and we humans living on trees, or that we would be woken up by our personal robots every morning and given morning tea before being dropped to office, which would be somewhere on Mars.

Now its officially 2010. Fortunately, none of this seems to have happened (though I won't mind the personal robot bit). And here we are ushering in the New Year!!!!

And here I go wishing you a very, very Happy New Year.

Have a good year!

Cheers