Inspiration..

My words have run dry - i can write no more. Five months, five days and five hours since I've last written something, ANYTHING, i truly believe in.

I spoke to my classmate Sowmya, of three years from my college days for one and half hours yesterday and it felt bloody damn good.

We spoke about everything and nothing. In typical her and me style, we started with all the useless topics at first - finally I took a step back and said "Whoa whoa whoa! Hold up! Tell me first - what are you doing with your life? Are you working, studying, married?"

About less than a minute was spend on the "BIG LIFE GOAL" topic, before we moved on to nonsense again - and what lovely nonsense it was. I missed her and all the others who i called my classmates and friends.

I told Sowmya about the friends I miss and how lonely I am. Colleagues at work can never be best friends and life long buddies, because work tensions drive you into becoming work nemesis at some point.

"But don't you have a boyfriend?", she asked. I replied "Yes, *5 minute rant on how we met* but only friends, can fill the void that friends leave behind".

My body and soul are still bursting from the happiness I experienced last night. It doesn't matter who you've become, or if your job sucks or if you cannot do what you love anymore - just pick up that telephone and punch in ANY number of someone who you shared innocent fun memories with and you'll be happy in no time.

I miss you class of 2008 - Bsc Electronic Media. Where did all that time go? Why have we all drifted?

I miss you Vasavi - my best friend.
I miss you Ritu - my wise, gyaan guru friend.
I miss you Pwe bwe - my cute, ever helping friend.
I miss you Vani - my Jungli Janwar friend.
I miss you Megha and Archana - (we can still meet, and we just met two months back, so I miss you a little less, don't take offense please :P)

Hancock..

I know it's a little too late review this movie, I don't remember if I already have, but here goes.

Hancock - not your average superhero, with screaming fans. A crude bum, perennially stoned and drunk, landing on expensive porches and making a mess of the planet, wherever he goes.

Hancock's life takes a U-turn when he meets a PR dude, named Ray. He drills into Hancock's head, the meaning of a superhero - tight spandex pants, charisma, manners, etiquette. Ray tames him into a comic book superhero.

The reason I love this movie so much, is because, Hancock is the first superhero flick that portrays superheroes as mortal beings who are lonely, sad, flawed and misunderstood.

Being the wife/girlfriend of a superhero comes with a price. This is one cliche the movie, didn't let go. Leaving this common thread, everything else about the plot is unique.

I've always had a superhero girlfriend/wife fantasy. But after seeing this movie, I'm glad my boyfriend is an average joe guitarist *chuckles*

I don't think I have the strength or the willpower to be immortal and witness the various stages of mankind.

Born Confused..

Born Confused, is a delightful read by Tanuja Desai Hidier. You could call it a chick-lit, for the fact that the protagonist is an ABCD teenage girl, who is going through her awkward coming of age years. The sentence construction and all the extra adds on to almost every fourth passage of the book, is a treat for every chick-lit reader.

Born Confused is a serious chick-lit, that deals with the protagonist, trying to find her roots, the relationship she shares with her American best friend and of course boys.

I believe on close reading Ms. Desai is talking about her own life, it is impossible to pen down such strong emotions, unless you've actually experienced them yourself. The protagonist is often jealous and in awe of her somewhat slutty, white best friend. American Indians have always raised eyebrows and we've always wondered how brown skinned people, can be so lost and un-Indian. It's a hard life for them, as this book clearly describes, what with identity crisis and finding your own ground in a land dominated by the gorgeous white skinned folks.

There's really no difference between the kids growing up in India and the ones who grow up abroad. We all go through the same thing really, such as snogging boys, being unhappy with too round bodies, keeping up with the fashion trends even if it doesn't suit our figures and the age old arranged 'love' marriage system.

I couldn't keep the book down simply because of Ms Desai's fabulous writing style. She writes an ordinary passage and out of the blue she throws in a few 'food for thought' sentences. After slamming the book shut reluctantly, at the end of the last page, I thought to myself, if ever I write I book, I hope it's as good as this one.

Ms. Desai, you have a new fan. *salutes your creativity*

Groupies..

Groupies. I'm more than familiar with these annoying, lack of self respect, species. All popular figures through history - men and women, have had their share of groupies. Some succumbed to their groupie's slutty ways, while some held back and decided to go back home to their wives/girlfriends.

Rock bands sensationalized groupies, and brought their existence into light. Led Zeppelin, Gnr and most glam rock bands of the 70s and 80s, have had their share of groupies.

Led Zeppelin Uncensored, a book by Richard Cole (their longest standing road manager) described in detail about the entire band bathing in a Jacuzzi with four of their groupies. The musicians, let out few small harmless octopi in the water to tickle the ladies in their nether-regions so that they would get horny and hence could get on with their 'wham-bham, thankyou groupies' process faster.

I wouldn't be surprised, to hear more tales like these, even today. Being the girlfriend of a popular musician myself, I've had my fair share of groupies. But being the possessive overly jealous person I am, I have kept a check on his groupie connections and have managed to clip them off, before it blossomed into any kind of hideous relationship.

The point is, what is the point of getting laid without a commitment? Would you really be happy, to have a one stand stand? What if you get AIDS? What if your one night stand, turned out to be a murderer, who snaps off your head, the morning after? What if, your room had a camera and it recorded the whole one night stand, which conveniently becomes the next Porn video, for the world to see? (Remember the DPS scandal?)

Groupies, tell me this, have you never fallen in love? Are you really happy, doting after someone who doesn't really give a rat's ass?

Message to all the Groupies lusting after my boyfriend : Stay the hell away from him, or I'll snap your tiny little heads right off your anorexic shoulders. FYI : I gym, everyday and can lift weights that you probably don't even dream off.

Face/Off..

I have no words to describe this movie, it is absolutely brilliant and super scary! Let me explain it to you, like my Seventh Standard, Chemistry teacher would explain a lab experiment.

Aim : A darn good flick, that makes you poopie in your pants and makes you thank the good lord, that you're man is not in the FBI, the army or any secret service organization, that nails psychopath criminals and makes their life hell.

Procedure : Take two guys - one good, one evil, one cop, one psycho criminal. Next, mix them both into a blender, interchange their faces.

The obvious result : Total chaos! The bad guy, with the good guy's body calls all the shots, takes full advantage of the newly acquired power and makes sure the bad guy (or in other words, the good guy stuck in the bad guy's body) stays locked up in prison.

Good wins over evil, saint wins over sinner - why else would I be watching this movie? I'm an eternal pessimist, the only glimmer of optimism in my life come from literature and good movies, like this one.

I will not divulge the plot at all, because YOU need to watch it, my fellow blog readers and I want those comments flowing down this post and then, we shall talk, about every minuscule ingenious detail, of this movie.

I have only one complaint against the movie, why in God's name was the bad guy given such a small role to play? Couldn't their faces have been swapped an hour or so into the movie, so that the audience could have wowed the villain's evil thinking and gestures? Nicholas Cage was without a doubt the Heath Ledger of this movie, sadly he was on screen as his evil self for only a mere five minutes or so.

The Tearful Adieu..

They walked through the serene and peaceful IIT Bombay roads, the birds chirped merrily welcoming a new dawn, a light breeze ruffled the tree leaves and he munched noisily on a few pieces of orange, squirting the juices on his white shirt, leaving a trail of yellowy stain. She smiled at his antics and wondered when she would see him again.

The calm surroundings did not reflect on their moods, there was a dull throbbing pain in both their hearts, as they held each others hands tightly. The ride from the campus till the airport was surreal and unnatural. They nattered away senselessly, occasionally sneaking a peck on each others lips and cheeks.

Thoughts of food from the south Indian restaurant in the airport, momentarily blew away glum thoughts from her mind. Her spirits rose, as she munched on that Mysore dosai and for a few minutes she was truly happy, to be walking to the Departure Gate. It was only when he turned around to hug her whispering Goodbye in her ears, that she realized they were parting ways. Their wonderful vacation was over, they would have to wait another painful month or two, before they would meet again.

She slowly walked inside the airport, only to call him on his mobile phone and press herself against the glass wall until he came to her. He pressed his hand against the wall and she placed hers on his. A glass wall separated them now and she couldn’t help but burst into tears.

After completing all the airline procedures, she stepped out again to see her boy. He lifted her spirits a little, by his mere presence and touch. She walked back inside the airport on a slightly more cheery and determined note.

And as the plane touched Chennai city, she had made up her mind. On reaching home, she sat her mother down and explained to her that she had found her husband.

No Reservations..

A quaint romantic tale of sorts, with two chefs thrown in. This movie only re-confirms my belief that I should be, a chef. My concentration was more on the sumptuous looking food they were preparing, that the movie itself.

As soon as the movie was over, I SMSed my boyfriend, telling him, "Poopie, I want to be a chef. Screw journalism. My heart and soul has always been in food, I want to devote my life to eradicating hunger and making bellies all over the world, happy"

The plot is very predictable. No nonsense lady chef, on top of her game finds herself irritated with a new cook in her kitchen. It doesn't help when her niece, (her dead sister's daughter) opens up more to chef-boy than her.

Chef-boy and the niece become very pally with each other. He even visits her at home, and cooks a meal of pizza with her. Post dinner, finds both chefs settling down in front of a fire, eating Tiramisu and talking to each other more like friends, than work collegues.

To make a long story short, and to cut the blah blahs out, yes, they do end up together and open a restaurant of their own.

My favorite dialogue in the movie goes something like so; "I wish life was a cookbook full of recipes, telling us exactly what to do"

KFC..

My journey with KFC has been a long, greedy and delicious one. At times when I've been euphoric over passing my exams, pissed drunk, downright depressed or deliriously happy over loosing a few pounds, the only person (yes, KFC has been a very important chick in my life) I turned to was my bird, my best friend and my favorite meat in the world.

KFC was my weakness, my strength and my pillar of support. The walls of KFC know all my deep dark dirty secrets and if they were to speak, I would have to shove my head, into a bucket of KFC forever and ever.

She walked into my life in the late 90s and it was love at first sight, smell and bite. I knew right then that our bond would be stronger than Fevicols'. I wanted to have her for breakfast, lunch, dinner and for a quick midnight snack. If I had my way, I would've ensured that KFC reached every little child in the world. I believe that KFC can teach children things, that their school teachers cannot.

NOTE : The following has been inspired by the Sunscreen Song, but personalized my way or should i say, the KFC way.

KFC is the answer to all your problems ladies and gentlemen. If I could offer you one tip for the future, KFC would be it. In 20 years, you'll look back at that KFC outlet close to your house and wonder why you hadn't gone there when you were younger. You didn't have diabetes or doctors prescriptions to follow back then.

Do something exciting and different everyday, instead of living your boring mundane routine existence and then eat KFC to celebrate your spirit of adventure. Don't break people's hearts, don't put up with people who treat you like cow dung, but if it really gets to you, go down your insecurities and sorrows with huge mouthfuls of KFC.

Don't feel guilty, if you don't know what you want to do with your life. Some of the most interesting people I know, are the ones who are jobless and are still happy, with that one glorious piece of KFC, held firmly in their fists.

Maybe you'll have a kickass sex life, maybe you won't. You could have a faithful partner or one who cheats on you, perennially humping anything that moves. But do you know, a certain chick who won't let you down or cheat on you ever? KFC!

Talk to your parents, be nice to your siblings, because you'll never know when you are going to be broke, and at times like that, your family is your road to reaching KFC.

Accept certain truths; Politicians in India will always be dishonest, the recession will not turn around anytime soon, and lots of people will lose their jobs, including you, perhaps. Don't expect anyone to lend you a shoulder to cry on, your only friend in need will be a bucket of KFC.

Now read the opening line to my blog and understand why I have written it; "I believe that the KFC is the king of all food."

I must tell you now, about a dark night in my life. The night she betrayed me. The night that I threw up my whole entire bucket of KFC, until I could see the sun shining through my window. I call it The Black KFC Day.

I still love my KFC very much, I know I do. My will to look her in the eye has vanished, but I'm sure one of these days a miracle will happen. I'm just waiting for that miracle, until then ladies and gentlemen, trust me on the KFC.

The Story of Destiny..

Once upon a time, there lived an extremely messed up little girl. She went to a girls school, which was a living nightmare for her. Partly because, lesbians constantly hit on her and she was straight. And partly because, the academic pressures were very high and she was certainly not a nerd. She was in fact a queer little round thing, truth be told. She had a select bunch of friends. Her hobbies included swimming and eating. She was quite content with her round unshapely insignificant/average existence.

The next stage of life, namely College, was a breath of fresh air for her. She suddenly found herself fitting right in. She could finally be herself and people accepted her for what she was. She made a few 'friends for life'. As for matters at home, she was the apple of daddy's eye.

Hold it, right there, this story is not for the faint hearted. If you're looking for a regular sati-savitri 'I can fall in love with only one man my whole life' tale, then stop reading this and look elsewhere. This story is only for the slightly wild souls, who've had a taste of what I'm talking about.

She wasn't as cute or angel like as you presume her to be, she was evil, with a capital E-V-I-L. She loved teasing the opposite sex, broke a few hearts and in the process as karma would have it, got hers broken as well. She was a toad for all those fake princes and vice versa. She was, you could say - loveless, boy friendless and a little sad that her mojo-jojo man hadn't made his appearance yet. On certain nights she would cry herself to sleep thinking that her mojo jojo man might have been a young soldier who died at war.

She didn't think she deserved to be happy. She didn't believe for one moment, that she had a soul mate, for all the men who she truly cared about left; for their slutty ex-girlfriends, randomly vanished into thin air without saying goodbye or got married.

And then a miracle happened. Her mojo-jojo finally pranced into her life. She wasn't searching for love anymore at this stage of her life and became something of a cynic. So when their eyes met for the first time, they looked away. And slowly, they began to touch each others lives. They couldn't stop talking to each other, they began exploring each others minds. They laughed, they cried, became good friends and eventually became inseparable.

She pinched herself several times to ensure that it wasn't all a dream. It seemed too surreal, too fairy tale like. How could a complete stranger, make her want to sacrifice her whole life? What made him stand apart from all the other men she had met?

And then, she did what every impulsive fool in love would do; she rushed into his arms. Her conscience had a small talk with her.

Conscience : What do you have to lose this time?
Her : Everything!

Today, the messed up little girl is still quite messed up, but is in safe hands. She has bumped into her father, her best friend, her soul mate and she knows her life is just about right.

The Photograph..

"Looks don't matter at all, it's whats on the inside that counts" - I've heard this sentence a million times over, from friends, from parents, from acquaintances, from random strangers and once upon a time I was a firm believer myself. Until.. this photograph happened.

I stumbled upon a random man's blog and made a few comments on his writing. Curiosity took over me, and on an impulse I decided to search online for the face behind the writing. As luck would have it, he had an Orkut profile. The face I saw beaming back at me made my fingers freeze on the keyboard. He was a Greek God!

I had my apprehensions about him. I was terribly drawn to him, simply because of his looks. Years of experience with various toads who disguise themselves as prince charming, told me, that he would be a schmuck, just like every other guy on the planet.

A day or two passed, I semi-forgot about the Greek God. I wasn't surprised or disappointed that he hadn't reciprocated. And then, the most startling thing happened. He emailed me. He didn't reply to my comments or send me snide remarks, instead he emailed me! My heart did a little flip-flop and I responded back quickly. And thereon started our email conversations, which slowly transcended to online chats which lasted for nearly three hours every day.

It's been a year now, since I've stumbled upon my Greek God. A lot has happened since then. My life has taken a complete U-turn and I count my blessings each day, thanking the forces of technology which made our paths cross. I see a life with him, and very soon my world shall know of us.

Moral of the story : Looks do count, never listen to what the crowd says because the crowd is a perennially confused frustrated bunch.

Delhi 6

Delhi 6 - a journey of a boy and his grandmother back to their roots. The movie was not spectacular, but it was a good first attempt made in Indian cinema to bring out the Indian-ness of India starting with the petty fights, the strong religious beliefs, and the joy and affection showered by relatives and family friends on going back home after a very long period of time.

The protagonist of the movie – Roshan, is an American citizen minus the fake accent. He almost made us believe that he never went to America save his weak attempts of American jargon such as the over usage of the phrases and words ‘It’s alright’ and ‘cool’.

The leading woman played a very forgettable role – the typical Hindi movie cliché of girl hating boy at first sight and ultimately falling in love with him. *yawn and double yawn*

My favorite scene in the movie would have to be a lovemaking scene between a wannabe hep city boy and the young bride of a wealthy older gentleman. They merely show the legs of both boy and girl and their toes accidently keep pressing the remote control of the television. This action causes a successive change of channels and suggestive television clips are shown which establishes the fact that they are at it in full steam.

Delhi 6 will raise a few doubts and questions in our minds and will definitely make us wonder why our country is so worried about petty forgettable issues while the real life changing problems are almost always neglected and forgotten.

Three months and counting..

It's been a while since I've visited this place and typed a few words. I've forgotten how to write just for the fun of it. For most people making a living out of their passion must be a dream come true. For me though, what started out as a dream became a living nightmare. Being a professional features writer/reporter, with an extremely lazy editor who barely appreciates having you around is far from a dream.

This post is an attempt to re-spark my love of writing again, without deadlines hanging like dead weight on my shoulders.

I'm back home in Chennai after three months of living alone in Bombay. I've learnt a lot in these three months - I've learnt that working with a sadass excuse of a magazine is a waste of time, finishing your studies always comes first; pay packets and companies will follow suit, firms are selfish and think only of themselves, some people are just opportunists who simply use you, without batting an eyelid, for cleaning up their mess and when that is done, they pretend like they don't know you anymore.

The experience has changed me. For 21 years, I was in a safe cocoon called home. Stepping out into the real world and seeing with my own two eyes that it's not a nice place for our children to grow up, is not a very comforting feeling.

Tales of gloom aside, I've also had the time of my life, in these three months. I've met some interesting people, I've fallen in love with the mad city Bombay is and I'm definitely going back for more.

Mommy..

The first thing i did this morning, the minute i opened my eyes was to give mommy a missed call. We had a 15 minute conversation which went like so.

Mom : Haan, whats up?
Me (groggy eyed and hippo-yawning) : Not much, just felt like hearing your voice.
Mom : Oh okie
Me : Mummaa, I'm feeling very tired. I don't feel like going to work today
Mom : Obviously, you'll feel tired. You're not eating properly. Just lunch everyday is going to make you loose your health and all your resistance. (and more food related advice)
Me : *coughing and sneezing*
Mom : Just come back home, enough of your Bombay experiment.

I managed to hang up after convincing her that I'll eat some more and that i was getting late for work.

As i was getting ready to leave, the conversation we had kept playing in my mind. And as i stepped out of home to catch the bus to the station, i saw little girls walking hand in hand with their mothers. The sight made a single tear drop trickle down my eye and it made me realize that i was really missing my mother.

I wanted to be 4 years old all over again and live a life of no responsibilities.

Samosas..

There is something very divine about a samosa. Words are too little to express how I feel when the taste of the aloo and the fried covering play around the insides of my mouth. I've had a fascination for this heavenly triangle for a very long time.

Most mornings i skip breakfast, partly because I don't get any at the PG I stay in and partly because I'm in a rush to get to work before the trains and the buses get too crowded. Traveling in Mumbai is something that you get used to only after a very loooooooong time.

I'm used to the grind now of pushing and pulling around with the fat aunties on the train to get that wee bit of space to breathe and jumping into the bus as fast as my legs allow me to.

This morning I left home earlier than usual and reached Dadar station at 9.20am, I had time to kill. So I took a slow walk down the crowded streets of Dadar, watching the shopkeepers dusting out their wares and opening shop for the day. Each morning I pass rows and rows of eat outs and I see food in abundance. The smells wafting out of each make my tummy cringe with hunger. And this morning I decided to answer the call of my tummy. I saw a huge basket of samosas being carried by 2 men, I walked right behind them, watching the samosas with lustful eyes.

They walked into a small street shop and placed the basket inside. The shop had a small counter selling samosas, dhoklas, pav bhaji and many more knick knacks. People were crowded around the shop like bees to a honey comb. I joined the crowd and asked for one samosa.

The man behind the counter, took out a samosa from the counter, wrapped it in a newspaper along with some spicy green chilly chutney and gave it to me. (his actions were at the speed of light, before I knew what was happening the whole bundle was in my hand) I smiled at him, payed him the amount I owed him and settled down on a steel bench with my samosa.

I could taste the freshness of the aloo stuffed inside the samosa, it was still piping hot from all the frying. The spicy chutney dipping added on to my mouth-orgasm. I was in a world of my own now - nothing seemed to matter except me and my samosa.

After I was done eating, I looked at the empty sheet of paper with sadness and made a promise to myself that every alternate morning, I would sin. Calories can just go to hell for all I care.

A new dawn..

A post after a million days - thanks to some violent prodding from a certain special someone.

R: btw i am angry at you
G:?

R : since you have joined work, you seem to have put your own writing at a complete back seat

G: yea, i know

R: you work is profession, and your blog is your hobby, y don't i see your blog being updated, during maybe the most eventful period of your life?

So here i am, trying to making a post - I've gotten rusty, i have forgotten how to just write for the fun of writing. I write now with thoughts of will my editor like it, does this fit the writing style of the magazine, would people give it a second read and so on.

It's funny how life takes you to these absolute dead ends and just when you think things just can't get any worse, your brain begins to see light - the light of acceptance. Shit happens and you just learn to deal with it.

I've grown up in the past 2 months, living away from home. Suddenly there is this burst of responsibility resting on my shoulders - starting with getting my clothes washed to meeting article deadlines to jumping onto the train quickly and hanging on to anything for dear life.

Living out of home is like walking on thin glass. It takes time to get used to it. But once the mental block of "Can i do this? Am i capable enough?" is out of your head, the world is yours to rule.

Mumbai food..

If food is life and eating is your only survival kit, then Mumbai is the place for you. There is a plethora of food starting from Rs 5/- to Rs 5000/-

I've been in this lovely city for the past 1 month and two eateries that really caught my eye during my brief stay here are, Jumbo king Vada Pav stalls and Amore Gelato ice cream parlor.

Vada pav is a Maharasthrian preparation of a deep fried mashed potato (much like our South Indian equivalent of a Bonda) served in a Bun with or without sauces. The first time I ever had a Vada Pav at the Jumbo king stall, I went bonkers. Jumbo king stalls are located at all the major railway stations of Mumbai. So after every tiring train ride I lunged towards a Jumbo king stall and stuffed my face with Schezuan Jumbo king with one large overly sweetened lassi to wash it all down. I could not get over the fact that this meal was hardly burning my wallet of moolah. The foodie in me, was over the moon.

Moving on to our next yummy in my tummy eat out - Amore Gelato parlour. The cousin and I ate one spoon of all the ice creams on display, starting with After Eight and ending with Cookies and Cream. After a lot of thought, I settled on a Belguim chocolate and she on a Mocha. We had them in waffle cones covered with chocolate sauce right where the cone opens out for the scoop to fall in.

As we dug greedily into our cones, three anorexic-food-is-for-losers women, walked in and looked around with disgruntled expressions at the array of ice creams on display and asked the ice cream scooper boy how many calories one scoop would have. By now I had ice cream on my hair, chin, cheeks and shirt, I perked up to look at the face of the ice cream scooper boy and I could see that he and I were harbouring the same thought, namely - "Get out of this sacred ice cream house NOW, or I will stuff a grenade down your throat."

They finally settled for some yucky looking fruit flavored ice creams served in paper cups (which by the way spoils the whole ice cream eating purpose, you either have your scoop in a yummy waffle cone or die)

I'm still exploring the city and eating as much as I can on the way. So, this post shall continue. Until then, keep the foodie in you alive and keep that ponch happy.

Rock On..

Musicians. We've worshiped them, loved them, been jealous of them, dressed and walked like them. And most of us would easily cut off an arm or a leg, to just live a day of their life.

Rock On is a movie about four men, whose lives take a twist from making music to taking up responsibilities that are thrown their way. Slowly, they are forced to give up their dreams and lead stereotypical 'make money, marry wife, have kids' life.

It is an eye opener for most of us who presumed that rock stars are demi gods, who lead perfect lives. Women, talent, free food at all the places where you play a gig, what more can you ask for?

It also strongly underlines the fact that life is uber strange. We never know where we're going, until we've reached. Planning out our entire life is a decent thing to do, i suppose. Our parents did it, our grandparents did it and they all did okie. But, okie is not good enough. Extraordinary is what we should be looking for.

Philosophy aside, the movie is killer. I loved it and I would definitely give it a second watch. The soundtrack is foot tapping and fun to hear. Investing on the audio CD would not be a total waste of moolah.

Sowmia Mohanlal..

Sowmia Mohanlal - Assistant Store Manager, with the Landmark group in the UAE. Sophisticated, hardworking and an out and out professional with only one thought in mind - meet the sales targets at the end of the month. To me though, she is Sowmi chechi. The woman who babied me ever since she was 3 years old.

Growing up with Sowmia Mohanlal was not half bad. I remember being fiercely possessive of her. I hated it when she babied other little girls, chatted up other random people and played with animals (because she was, is and always shall be an animal lover). I wanted her undivided attention at all times. She was my mother hen and i was the awkward duckling that nestled under her belly.

As i entered my teen years, i found that there was an ocean of differences in opinion between me and her. She continued looking out for me whilst i flitted around playing every bit of my rebellious teen years.

In the past 2 weeks though, i found that we have never been more closer to each other in our lives. My brother just got married and the pre marriage drill was taking a toll on the entire family. As things began to crumble, she stood strong and bold holding together all the pieces of our family like a tube of super glue. She passed on her karmic mumbo-jumbo advice to me as usual and for once, it all made sense to me. I realized that she is the BEST sister a girl can ever have. She has set the sister platform so high in my mind, that no other woman in the world can enter that position that she has taken in my life.

No other girl - be it sisters in laws, be it cousins, be it my very own sister (if i had one) can ever take the place of Sowmia Mohanlal - the best cousin and the best sister ever.

Disclaimer Note : She is single, drop dead gorgeous and up for grabs. So single men over 6 feet of height, well established in their respective field of work, please don't hesitate to e-mail me. =D

My Hot Hairdresser Boy - Part 3

This post is a sad anti-climax to my trilogy. Please refer blog archive for Parts 1 and 2.

I walked into the parlor with an air of hope, confidence and a tingle of excitement. I couldn't wait to see my hot hairdresser boy again and drool over him. Sadly, fate had something else in store for me this morning.

Mum and I walked into the parlor dot at 11.30 am. My eyes wasted no time. It immediately scanned the entire parlor for traces of my boy. Disappointed, i plastered on a fake cheery grin and enquired about him to one of the parlor helpers.

Helper : Sanjay is not here
Me : (wishing the earth would split in two and swallow me in) Oh.
Helper : He has gone to Bombay for a training
Me : Aaah! ='(

My whole world crashed before my eyes at that point. I couldn't think straight, I had to sit down, I knew I'd faint if i didn't. Looking at my pale face, the helper rushed inside and got me a glass of water.

Me : When will he come back?
Helper : I'm not sure
Me : Oohhh. Alright.

The rest of the day was a blur. I honestly didn't care about my hair anymore. The cute chubby aunty who owned the parlor chopped my tresses and two helpers blow dried it and gave it a nice bouncy curly look.

I insisted that i wanted the exact same hair-do my hair savior had given me. The wonders he did with my hair in ten minutes flat, could not be re-done with three women combined. They took 45 minutes to chop and set my hair in place.

At the end of it all, I do look exactly like how my boy saw me 4 months ago. But, the experience was sad and hollow without him. There is a definite void in my soul, now that he has left the parlor.

*sniffs loudly into a tissue and bites into a large bar of chocolate*

The Dark Knight..

Lets have a moment of silence now, clear our throats and on the count of three.. 1, 2, 3. SCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEAAAM! WHATTA MOVIE! If you haven't seen it, jump off a cliff ten times and kill yourself!

I'm confused now. Who do i like more, Batman or the Joker. On the one hand, we have an unsung hero, someone who makes sacrifices, kicks some butt, annihilates evil and yet is hated and misunderstood by the people who he stands to protect, come what may. And on the other hand, we have a lunatic, who kills people for no reason, who just lives his life without a goal in particular. He just wants to piss Batman off and bring gloom to the city of Gotham by breaking their spirits, by killing their hopes for a good future.

The Dark Knight, is one of the most smartest, sleekest, nattiest, realistic superhero flicks' made in our times. The movie ends with the villain winning and the hero loosing. The Joker succeeds in driving a good man, out of his mind. He pushes him over the edge and makes him a villain. Whilst, Batman flees the scene like a criminal, although he did no harm.

More than the fight between good and evil, it was a movie that strongly underlined the choices we make. Sometimes the right choices have horrible consequences. But we can't shirk off those choices. We have a responsibility, to ourselves and to the people who believe in us.

Heath Ledger. Sir, i just have one word and one thought in my mind for you : RESPECT! You have changed the face of super villains. We love you! May your soul rest in peace.