Hey, Soul Sister - Train

It's been a loooong long time, since a song has struck a chord within my heart's blood oozing chord. I'm left smiling and giddy headed for hours after I hear this song, I wake up every morning, rush to my laptop, tune into You-tube and hit this song, which is always queued up, waiting to be played, and then it loops for about an hour and half, roughly.

From the start to the finish it's an absolute masterpiece. The first verse goes :

"Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains
I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind
Your sweet moon beam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind"

Cheeky, naughty and cute all rolled into one. I wonder what was running through the band's mind, when they composed and penned this song. Was it for one of their girlfriends/wives/fiancées? If yes, they have just upped the games for all boyfriends universally!

The perfect song to wipe out all your blues and sorrows, in under four minutes, guaranteed. Kick out all those comfy eating fatty foods, and turn up your stereos children. This song is here to stay.

Madras Gymkhana Club

The MGC has been my playground for the past 13 years. To outsiders, it may appear to be an extremely snooty club and truth be told, it is snooty. When Thermal and a Quarter played here, the crowd sniffed and ordered another stiff drink from the waiters. When I played with my little cousins on the gym-lawns after 9pm one night, I was shooed away by one of the waiters and my parents were told 'no children allowed on the lawns post 9pm, please'. I still remember going for a New Year's Eve bash with mum-dad to the club and dad had announced to the reception staff that I was over 16 years old. Not knowing the significance of this white lie, I announced quite loudly, "But daddy, I am only 14".

How a club started by the Brits, maintained it's Brit culture for 126 years, is a wonder. Men are allowed inside only with a collared shirt and shoes, no one is allowed on the club premises with their workout clothes on, the last dinner order is taken at 10.30pm and so on.

The waiters haven't changed in all these years and before I can even sit down to place my dinner order, they have a steaming spicy hot plate of chilli chicken dry, ready for me. The food here is fantastic but a little dull, when you've been a regular for 13 years. Of late they have been making a few changes to the menu with regard to continental food and the drinks, which is a relief!

The pool uncle rings his bell at 7.30pm sharp for the kids to scramble out and even today I am asked to leave. I suppose I never grew up for him, in his eyes I will always be a kid and that is a nice feeling. The pool is brilliant, super huge and really well-maintained, you can see right upto the last tile on the watery floor. Many times, I have this eerie feeling that I am being followed by an invisible being in the deep waters and who knows, maybe I am. A restless Brit, may have decided never to leave the pool and I can't blame him/her, I would probably do the same, if I were in his/her shoes.

I grew up gorging on the warm Naans and Nut and Date tart puddings, playing in the old park next to the pool and reading plenty of Mills and Boons from the library. I will never get tired of this club, it is my second home.

Iron Man 2

To start off with, all those who think that Iron Man 2 could not live up to its predecessor, step away from this blog post. Number One: An Iron Man movie can never and I mean NEVER be awful. Number Two: Have you seen the bum and face on Robert Downey Junior?

Iron Man 2 had plenty more badass action scenes, than the first. Downey Junior makes his audience flinch one minute and then “ooh and aaah” the next. For all the feminists who can’t stand male superhero movies and believe that only men can kick some mean butt, fret not; for this movie has Scarlett Johansson playing an ubercool agent, who goes undercover as Iron Man’s personal secretary in training. She has her share of fight scenes – very few sadly, but VERY appealing – she has my thumbs up to act in Elektra 2.

This movie dives a little deeper into the life of the man behind the iron clad shield. He is a wild irresponsible wild parties throwing narcissistic sloth, but is there more to him than just that? And in comes the villain of this piece to answer this question. A physician named Ivan Vanko who believes, that his father was wronged by the Iron Man’s father – Howard Stark. He constructs an arc reactor and a crude suit of his own, along with whip-like energy weapons. Can the Iron Man beat this revenge seeking scientist who is out to destroy the Stark legacy?

To add fuel to the fire, the Iron Man is slowly dying. He is being poisoned by the palladium core in his arc reactor (or in simple terms the shiny blue thingy stuck on his chest), and all attempts to find a substitute element have failed.

Can our sexy knight in shining red armor (with a nice butt) overcome these odds and emerge victorious? You don’t have to rack your brains too much to answer this one; I think I hear the three year old baby next door, screaming the answer out to you. Go watch it. And if you have watched it already, watch it again!

PS: I almost forgot to add, the icing on the cake, the chocolate sauce on the Belgian waffle, the stir fried chicken in the Manchurian – Tony Stark and his former personal assistant Pepper Potts kiss. Finally!! I had to wait two WHOLE movies for that to happen. I smiled and smiled till I could smile no more.

The Crown - Residency Towers

Mom and dad's 33rd wedding anniversary was a much thought about affair for the past three weeks, we had decided to go to the rooftop restaurant of the Accord Metropolitan, but thanks to the never ending cyclone Laila, our plan was washed out.

We tried reserving a table at the GRT on D-day to discover that they had been fully booked as well. Disappointed, we continued to rack our tummies for inspiration. Before dad could say, "Lets go to Besant Nagar for a burger", the thought struck us. Why not Residency Towers? We had tried their rooftop restaurant for my 23rd birthday and their lip smacking buffet serving restaurant Main Street on a random greedy afternoon. The tummies had spoken, the verdict was out. We would try The Crown, their Multi-Cuisine restaurant which is located right next to their rooftop restaurant.

I began a countdown starting with T minus 12 hours, I was super excited. The three of us decked up like Christmas trees and made our way towards the lap of luxury. On reaching our destination I was a wee bit conscious of my Mary-Jane Chinese Silk outfit, mum and I received a lot of curious stares. Point to note : Chennaites stare.. a LOT, go figure! It doesn't matter if you are in your Calvin Klein chaddis or an exquisite Saree, people here love to ogle.

We clambered into the lift, which took us to their highest floor and into their Multi-Cuisine restaurant, The Crown. I opened the very last page of the Menu card and eyed the Dessert menu. I always plan my meals backward, I believe that Starters and Main Course must always compliment the Dessert, else you are bound to have a dis-satisfactory gastronomic experience.

We ordered a Panner starter, called the Tiranga. The dish had the colours of the Indian flag - three soft juicy pieces of Panner were served to us, in Saffron, White and Green.

For main course mom settled for a Vegetable Lasagne, which was dipped in a creamy rich tomato, white and cheesy sauce stuffed generously with vegetables. I am a Vegan-hater, but this dish would make all you non-grass eaters, have a re-think.

I ordered Golden Crumb Fried Prawns, which was accompanied by a spicy red dip, lettuce leaves and mashed potatoes, each bite took me straight up to heaven and back. The Prawn pieces were massive and crisp, each bite had a power packed CRUNCH to it.

Dad, the non experimental one amongst us ordered Rotis and a Chicken Kheema curry, I almost decided to give this a pass, but the Kheema repeatedly whispered my name in a soft sultry voice, until i gave in. It was rich, wonderfully flavored and had just the right amount of spice.

We moved on to my favorite course of the meal - Dessert!! *joyous tummy flip-flops*. The Tiramisu and Carrot Halwa had our names written all over it. The Carrot Halwa had a very acute Milkmaid and Ghee tinge to it, very melt in your mouth and tasty as hell. My only complaint would be that the quantity was too little. As for the Tiramisu, the folks seemed to relish it, I'm not a huge fan of the sweet, so I will make no comments.

The service was pleasant and friendly, the waiters didn't hang around our tables and they served each course slowly. We had enough time to soak in the lovely ambiance of the Crown, we watched in wonder at the huge Dome ceiling, which gave the restaurant it's name and the hundreds of soft chandelier lights that hung from the ceilings and walls.

All in all, a night fit for the Kings and Bhadrans, of the world. *big burpy grin*

Nonsensical teenagers

It's that time of the year again, the time when college admissions begin, the time to dust off the cobwebs inside our brains and get cracking. Last week my mom and I headed over to a city college, to buy application forms for the course of my liking.

There was a never-ending queue, as long as a Paper Roast dosai at the counter and the sun was beating down our backs mercilessly turning our brains to scrambled eggs and our bodies to salted sugar syrup.

We noticed women of all shapes and sizes, dressed up and dressed down. Girls huddled around excitedly, talking loudly into cellphones, adjusting their bags over their shoulders and some flirting with their respective boyfriends. We waited for about forty minutes in the snaking sea of bodies. All was well, until two annoying nonsensical teenagers (NT) decided to park themselves behind mom and me. Our agony began seconds later.

The NT conversation:
Tall NT : Dude, this is like so cool!
Short NT : Yeah, like sick cool.

Tall NT : If i get into day college, I'll chill at Mocha, if i get into evening college I'll get smashed at Zaras
Short NT : Super sick! *hi fives*

Tall NT : So where else have you applied to?
Short NT : Oh, just some colleges in Bombay and Bangalore.
Tall NT : Bombay? Then you can meet Shahid Kapoor and forget college.
Short NT : That was the plan!

Tall NT : Oh look, my freakin' dad is standing there.
Short NT : Su-weet, he is ahead of us in this godforsaken line, he will probably get the application form before us.

Tall NT : Hey! Guess what? This dumb college has a dress rule, only kurtis and long tops allowed
Short NT : Eeyew! For real? I don't think I want to study here then.

Trust me blindly, when I say, you don't want to hear the rest. Girl talk is absolutely 100% fun, as long as it is not announced to the rest of the world in eardrum shattering decibels. There were two old men, standing ahead of us in the line and they farted a few times, probably in response to the heinous comments the pair of NT were passing.

Mom was scandalized as well at the end of these forty minutes. Her exact words were "Kids these days" and an angry pout. Point to note : Mom NEVER gets scandalized! She has heard and seen the worst of things, thanks to a rough army lifestyle she had, being married to my dad.

As for me, I remembered vaguely being a nonsensical teenager myself, but our generation was far more intellectual *sheepish grin*

Six Weeks

February 9th, 2010 changed my life forever. From a bike-lover i turned into a bike phobic. The day started out just like any other, an early morning calorie burning session in the gym was on the cards. I revved up my baby confidently for one last time, for the next two months and hit the road. I drove fast as usual, with the chilly 6AM morning air, hitting against my body. As i neared my destination, disaster struck, I lost control of my bike and went skidding against the hard tarred road for a good five minutes.

I lay there in shock for a few seconds, until someone lifted me up. I could see blood all over me, a huge gash on my right leg, cuts and bruises on my hands and legs and a limp lifeless dull thudding on my right hand. I knew right away something was wrong.

A flurry of activity followed, and I finally reached Malar hospital where the doctors confirmed that I had dislocated and fractured my right shoulder and had a ligament tear on my right foot. The medicines and the sharp water they used to clean my wounds stung and I clung onto my mommy's hand and screamed with all my might, until she whispered in my ear that everything would be alright soon.

I was taken into surgery shortly after, my FIRST surgery ever! And it had a fancy name - Key Hole. I was petrified to say the least, I repeatedly asked the doctors if I would feel any more pain and whether I would be awake on the operation table. I wished I was in Seattle Grace Hospital, where at least I could have drooled at Mc Dreamy and asked Meredith why she was so wannabe Goth all the time. No such luck, though. Doctors are boring and artificially cheery people who try to make you believe that life is peachy.

Three hours of surgery later, I felt my immobile right hand, which hurt even more as I tried to free myself of all the tubes running through my body. I had two metal rods stuck all the way through my right shoulder up to my elbow.

I was officially handicapped for the next two months. If it weren't for my Mom and ayyah, I'm sure I would have been dead by now. I could barely walk thanks to my bloated ligament torn right leg and I could do nothing all day except for lolling around on bed.

I hated the tight belt which restricted my body movements and kept my hand tightly in place. Each visit to the doctor was demoralizing and humiliating - I looked like crap, I felt like crap and I just wanted to be someone else. Someone without a broken shoulder, who didn't have a tight band around her all the time.

The only silver lining to this dark cloud was my poopie coming home to see me. My dad, spoke about him for days on end and my mother approved as well. It felt nice watching him being at home and my parents lapping up every word of what he had to say. The icing on the cake was when he touched both their feet - i knew by the look on their faces, that they were in love with him too :)

Five years of riding, umpteen accidents and a still healing broken arm later, I bid goodbye to you, my dear old Scooty Pep. I will miss you dearly, but our time has come to an end. I wish things were different for you and me.

Twilight..

I've been a Twilight series fan for the past 10 months. I own all four, have read them all and loved every word typed down in those huge black books.

Vampires have fascinated me, ever since i was 10 years old - thanks to the back then popular TV Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I've waited my whole life for literature and movies like the Twilight Series, it just makes all my dreams come true. I am sooo happy, merely looking at Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn.

I finished the first book in four days, the second in two days, the third seemed to stretch on forever because the whole Jacob Black v/s Edward Cullen thing got a tad bit boring and Breaking Dawn in three days, it was the perfect finale to this wonderful story.

Naturally, I've been dying to see the movies as well and I couldn't until 5 minutes ago. I picked up the Twilight DVD from Landmark yesterday and finally saw the movie right now.

The movie was everything I imagined it to be, in fact, it was even better! Watching Edward run faster than the wind, carrying Bella on his back, watching them kiss for the first time, watching them fall in love with each other, soaking in the faces of all the characters whose names I can say like the back of my hand - Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett, Bella and Edward, was a visual and sensory treat!

What a movie, what a hunk! I love vampires - I love Edward Cullen, I wish I could take Bella's place for just one day.

Paa..

I was a little skeptical about watching this movie, because everyone I know who saw the movie, gave me bad reviews, telling me that it was not their money's worth. I saw it 1 hour back in the Madras Race Club and I disagree with all these people.

Mr Bachchan as the 12 year old Progeria affected boy, Auro was a real treat. I completely forgot for the whole 2 hours and 15 minutes that he was Bollywood legend Amitabh Bachchan, because he pulled off the role so well. Running away each time he saw the little girl approach him, laughing and giggling cutely at the drop of a hat, passing witty innocent remarks every 5 minutes - how could one not fall in love with Auro?

I wished I could meet Auro just once, to just give him a huge hug and tell him that he is special.

I felt his mother's pain at the last scene in the movie, where she sits in the rain hugging her newly married spouse, crying her heart out.

This movie not just tugs at the strings of our heart, it also teaches us a lesson. It's not the quantity of time that you spend on earth that makes you leave a mark on people's lives, it's the quality of the life that you lead which makes people remember you long after you're gone.

There is an Auro buried inside all of us, let's free him and experience plain, simple, undiluted joy.

Sherlock Holmes..

I have to be honest, before I start this review, I am not really a Holmes fan. Infact I even hate the televised episodes with Jeremy Brett, which my boyfriend watches religiously via his LAN.

The only reason I went for this movie was for Robert Downey Junior. I've loved him right from his Ally Mcbeal days to his Iron Man stardom - the man is interesting. He is not a drop dead gorgeous beefy hunk of meat, but he is cute-ish and his facial expressions are amazing. You could call him the Shahrukh Khan of Hollywood, minus the lover boy, sob sob roles.

I can say without a doubt in my mind that no one could have suited the role of Holmes better than Downey Junior. He captures the essence of the character perfectly - logical, analytical, eccentric, mad, brutally honest and hilariously funny.

Jude Law as Holmes' faithful sidekick, Watson was the perfect icing on the cake, he complimented Holmes in every possible way, by being the saner, less eccentric other half.

The plot was engrossing and excellent - the way Holmes tackles each mystery is simply awesome.

I wait eagerly for the second part of the movie now and I shall pay more attention to the Jeremy Brett series henceforth.

Amazon.com

I had no idea what Amazon.com was until June 28th 2009, I prepped myself well for the interview, by brushing up on a few known facts about the company. The added bonus was the location - same complex as my gym and 15 minutes from home. It was reason enough for me to take up the job.

For the first one month, i soaked up all the food coupons worth a little more than a grand and the pick up and drop cab rides.

By the second month, i made some friends - friends, who I never really thought I'd get close to.

Today was my last day at Amazon and some of those friends who I thought I would never get close to, became my close confidants and best friends.

I'm sad today - sad about leaving a lovely organization full of beautiful people. I was thrown a fantastic farewell with the works - cake (which ended up more on my face and less inside my tummy), noise, gifts and a fairly huge gathering of boys and girls.

I was overwhelmed with bittersweet feelings, I cried at 4:58 dot, in front of one of my colleagues and walked away slowly, out the doors of a company I can't call mine anymore.

I'll miss you Amazon.com, you will always stay close to my heart.

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.

Crossroad..

There comes a point in every human being's life, when she has to take a major decision. She must finally decide, what her purpose in life is. And once she realizes that, she must shirk off all the people who are not supportive of her and move on.

Life is not about keeping other people happy, it is about keeping yourself happy. It is about carving a niche for yourself in this world and fighting it out till the very end.

It took me 21 years, 5 months and 16 days to realize that i was born to write. I will make my bread, butter, jam and live off it, only with my writing. Nothing in the world brings me more joy than thinking and writing down those thoughts.

I have two job offers in Chennai, from very reputed organizations but i choose not to take them, i choose the non-easy way. I choose my dream. And I'll be damned if anybody, tries to stop me.

My first love..

Riding back home from gym today, I was thinking about my never-ending job hunt in Mumbai, my journalism dreams, my blog, the Oats oozing with sugar and 5 tablespoons of skimmed milk powder that would be waiting for me once i reach home and so on. Out of the blue, it hit me, I've written about a gallizion things in this space, except for the most important person/thing in my life. My first love, my baby, my purple Scooty Pep!

Our torrid love affair started when i was in my first year of college and I can say without a doubt in my mind that we're still going strong. She has been through it all with me. The good times, the bad times, the moderate times and the wasted times. She has borne the brunt of my sadness, anger, euphoria, excitement and all the other human emotions humanely possible. She has been a brave soldier for three years, battling all my mood swings. Ever-ready to take on any challenges head-on. Be it dodging stupid pedestrians who just can't cross the road for nuts, cyclists who take forever to crawl through traffic, dinosaur sized cars that try and act funny whenever they see a woman-biker on the roads. Yes, woman biker! My scooty is a Bike. She is not a moped, she is not a scooty. She is a Bike. Period!

Whenever she falls ill, i feel her pain. It brings me great sadness and agony to take her to the service station and leave her there with a bunch of men for 2 and 3 days. My life comes to a standstill for that period of time and i pray fervently to all the Gods to heal her quick, so that she can come back home, back to where she belongs.

My purple scooty pep, i have no words to thank you for putting up with me, for being my ever faithful sidekick, for being my friend and confidante during all the times i needed you the most.

I love you babe! Always and forever.

Dynasty - Speciality Chinese Restaurant

Dynasty is probably one of the most underrated eat-outs in the city. Nobody has heard of it. The Wangs and Mainland Chinas of the world are recognized more. And nobody ever eats in Dynasty. Whenever i walk inside, the place is almost empty. So, this post is to boost up the sales of one of my personal favorite eat outs in the city - Dynasty!.

To start off with, note down the address :

Old No 10,
New No. 57
Greenways Road (inside Music College Arch Lane)
RA Puram
Chennai - 28
Home Delivery numbers : 43060000/43060003

Right, now with the nittigrities out of the way, lets get straight down to business - the food! If you are a self respecting foodian, the first thing that you would do when you enter a Chinese eat out, is order their Chicken Lollipop. And if you don't know what that is, then read no further, this post is not for you. I strongly believe that you can judge the quality of a Chinese eat out, by just eating their Chicken Lollipop. Dynasty's Chicken lollipop will take you on a higher plane of bliss. It's definitely the next best thing to sex and chocolates.

If you're a nibbler, a spoilsport, an anti-food person, then order their Chicken Man chow soup. A delicious concoction of shredded chicken, chillies, fried noodles and mixed vegetables. By now, you'd be geared for more food. Your tummy would expand a little with anticipation, however strict you are with your diet. You'd find yourself praying to the Lord; "Forgive me, for this one night of sin. I shall workout tomorrow like a maniac."

Next on the list is Kway Teow or in non Greek, normal human being language - Flat noodles, with mixed meat consisting of pork, chicken, beef, prawn and crab. The perfect side dish to go with Kway Teow is Shredded Beef dipped in soya sauce, ginger and onion.

If your keyboard is not already overflowing with drool, then my friend, you have issues! Stop reading, start gorging. Bonappetit!

The call of the cookie jar..

Last year, and the year before the last.. and the year before that..

No, that doesn't sound right. Let me start again. For the past 19 years of my life, the first thing I did as soon as I walked into a departmental store would be running to the chocolate, ice-cream and cookie section. I'd run haywire in the shop, pick up bars and tubs of poison and stuff my already overstuffed face with it all.. without sharing it with anyone. I shared Joey's philosophy on food. I did not share.

For the past 2 years though, all that has changed. I joined a gym and the harsh reality of being 12 kilos overweight hit me hard. So, i quit food. I started the anti-food movement with a good friend of mine (who was skin and bones already, but she is, a paranoid person and thinks she resembles a walrus) We barely ate and over-excercised. Things were going smoothly and as per our plan until our health's got in the way. We started loosing our resistance. We fell sick more often, had fainting spells now and then (my coolest fainting spell was in the loo.. i felt i was flying, until my head hit the bathroom tile) and threw up certain things we ate.

I wanted this post to be a little funny.. But the flow of words have taken a different direction. Children.. Ladies especially, reading this post. Do not starve and deprive yourself of food. It is uncool and stupid.

Eat the occasional chocolate chip cookie and glug a whole glass of coffee with tons of cream on it.. You can sin. It's human to sin.

Yesterday my uncle picked up tons of Oatmeal cookies covered in chocolate sause. I tried not to eat them, but the cookie jar looked at me accusingly and seemed to say, "After all these years, can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me anymore" I hugged the jar and whispered back with moist eyes; "I still love you with all my heart" and before I knew what I was doing, I ate 2 whole cookies and ran as fast and far as my legs could carry me.

I repeat.. It's human to sin. Eat that cookie without hesitation. You know you deserve it.

Vacations..

The thing about vacations, especially the one vacation before joining work and right after you're done with college, drags on for an eternity. Nothing seems right. You're a little fuzzy all the time, disoriented and just plain lost like a puppy dog wandering on a dark street.

Deleting seminar notes, exam time tables and going through tearful e-mails of 46 other women who shared a 3 year roller coaster ride along with me makes me gloomier. I am, was and never shall be a fan of change. It is the one thing I hate.

Speaking about the land I'm vacationing at.. There is a food overdose, heat overdose and T-Rex sized malls overdose. I'm sleep deprived and on my toes most of the time, clicking away furiously with my digi-cam and drinking gallons of iced coffee with cream and chocolate sauce topping.

Last week, I was in this mall called the Dragon Mall.. it is shaped like a Dragon and all the shops inside sell Chinese stuff. Walking down one of the alleys in the mall, I bumped into an aunty I met on the plane. We made conversation, oohed and aahed over the freak coincidence. We didn't ask each other too many personal questions, and we left our names unsaid.

Yesterday, I went to a mall called City Center and bumped into my classmate from school. We stared at each other wide eyed, hugged and caught up on each other’s lives of 3 years. "You don't look the same at all, you've become so skinny" she kept saying for the first 5 minutes. I laughed and remembered my pro food days when I'd gorge on everybody's lunch boxes.

Vacations.. I don't like them! Dear blog readers, do pass on all your unfinished assignments and projects to me, I'd love to work on them for you.

My first impressions of Sharjah..

The 4-hour flight to start off with, was annoying. We had to wait in the airport for 4 hours, to finally board the silly plane. Once on board, my heart was in my throat and i had to suppress a few screams (because, i am scared of heights) as we took off the runway. I began to relax a little once the drinks and food were served. We landed at Dubai airport at an ungodly hour. The folks and i wandered around a little aimlessly at first and then we asked a huge Shake-man where to go and he replied back in Hindi "Neeche Jao". Multilingual folks these. We had to collect our original Visas from a counter and then go back up again to get it stamped from the other airport dudes. Shake-men are quite hot. They come in various shapes, sizes and heights much like our Indian men. They have very sharp features though and you can't help but take a second look and flash them a nice flirty smile.

Next, we collected our luggage from the luggage belt (for which we had to wait for another 1 hour) and we walked out of the airport, to be hit with a blast of really skin piercing hot air. We could feel heat bouncing off the roads and on to our faces. We walked around a little to spot my brother; mum made a passing comment about his punctuality and we continued staring into space. I suddenly felt a huge slap on my back and a "Welcome to Dubai Branson family". We stood there right at the entrance of the airport group hugging each other and giggling like a bunch of teenagers. It was a very Brady Bunch sort of a moment.

Next we rolled the luggage trolley to the car park and drove out of the airport. We looked in awe at all the enormous buildings and heavy traffic on the roads at 3am in the morning. I wanted to stick my head out like a dog and take snaps right away, but i was too fagged out from the nightmarish plane ride. I was half asleep by the time we got home. Nice sloppy kisses and huge bear hugs were exchanged with the cousin and the granny who were wide-awake and waiting for us.

I somehow managed to shirk off my clothes and get into my night suit and I crashed into bed like a pile of heavy wood. I was dead to the world for the next 8 hours. I got up the next morning with the sun shining right into my eyes. For a minute, I wondered if I was dead and God had finally come to say Hi. Then I opened my eyelids a little more and scanned the room around me. I walked out on to the balcony and looked down at the 13 floors below us. Cars on the road looked like small toys and people walking around looked like little moving dots. There were huge buildings everywhere and a nice harbor with ships and a good view of the sea. This place truly epitomized the word "Urban Jungle".

I think I'll truly enjoy my 1-month stay here. I could really get used to being pampered by the family and exploring this land some more.

Six Years..

Gather around boys and girls. It's fairy tale with a twist of horrible reality, time of the month again! Once upon a time which dates back to six years ago, there lived a loony 15 year old school kid and a very wise 18 year old college kid. They were cities apart. She resided in Chennai, whilst he in Dubai. They were very different from one another. But as the old norm goes - Opposites Attract. They met online, were hi-bye friends for a while. Then he decided to come to Chennai, for his break and so they swapped numbers. They spent a lot of time with each other conversing about everything and nothing. One night, whilst talking to him on the phone, he said he had already dreamt about her and the house she lived in. She did not believe him and so to prove a point, he drove his car right upto her house and she looked down at him from her balcony for the very first time.

They were probably in love with each other, but then again they were just children. They finally decided to meet in person. On the first date, the boy came a little late. The girl stood waiting for him impatiently, but the minute she saw him and the bunch of roses he held in his hand, her anger melted away. The date was absolutely fantastic. They met every single day that he was in town. Tearful goodbyes were said, when it was time for him to go back to Dubai. Somehow they lost touch with each other and the girl decided to dump him. (Yes, i know, what a bitch! If only she had a little bit of patience)

The reason why she dumped him, is still a mystery to her. She wishes till today that if she could have a second chance for that one moment in life, a rewind button or an erase button for life, she would hit that and undo her stupidity.

Moving forward, because life has to move on and so does our story - They kept in touch with each other, they were seeing other people of course, but they constantly were on and off in touch with each other. They continued meeting each other as well, each time the boy was in town.

Moving forward further to present day, both individuals still continued staying friends. The boy now shifted to Chennai. They kept meeting each other and finally the magic and the history of 6 whole years could be held back no longer. They decided to give each other a second chance, another shot, starting anew, from scratch.

Sadly, this time around, they squabbled over nothing. The boy had no time for the girl. He was committed fully to his work and frills of a relationship did not seem to be his priority. The girl tried to reach out to him, but he shut her away and turned a deaf ear. She was defeated. The one man who was always on her mind for 6 years, the one man for whom, her chest hurt like it had been rolled over with a huge bulldozer had finally said goodbye to her.

She cried, wails of agony escaping her mouth. She felt lost for the very first time in her life. She had a bright future to look forward to, but what was all that in comparison to the loss of the only man she fell completely head over heels in love with.

THE END

Tashan..

First up, cut the movie some slack. It's not all that hideous. It's a good entertainer and worth almost every penny, of the 100 odd bucks spent for the tickets.

The story revolves around 4 characters. Saif Ali Khan - A call center employee who is obsessed with women, this character is thrown in, to the portray the yuppie Indian youth of today. Kareena Kapoor - a slut essentially, but a slut with morals. (She's Indian after all remember) She is out to avenge her father's death and hence will trample things which cause roadblocks, men and material included. Akshay Kumar - a country bumpkin, who idol worships Anil Kapoor. I loved this character, partly because he really kicked some mean ass and pulled off stunt after stunt effortlessly and partly because he did full justice to the country bumpkin role. No one could've done it better. Anil Kapoor - a crazy Don, who wants to learn angreez, kill people, make a ton of money - you know, the usual Don stuff.

Kareena dupes Saif into believing that she is in love with him and swindles him of a ton of money, which belongs to Anil Kapoor. Anil Kapoor in turn, gets pissed off and sends Akshay Kumar to beat the shit out of Saif, find the girl and bring the two and the money back to him.

It's a typical Bollywood masala flick with the usual dose of song, dance, melodrama, childhood sweethearts and a mad villain of course. All in all, a fun 3 hours and something minutes!

Letting Go..

One of the most hardest things in the world, is letting go. However close you are to someone or something, at some point you just have to let things be and not obsess over it.

Parents, have to learn to let go of their children. Treating them like 5 year olds when they're 21 and can legally drink is uncool. Although, i suppose I'll know the feeling only when I'm a parent i guess. But as of right now, I'm on the other side of the fence and this is pure undiluted injustice!

Friends, are the best things ever. There is no question of letting go or giving them 'space'. You can be around them all the time and still not feel suffocated by them.

Lovers, are weird beings. It's a huge complicated mess when one wants a lot of space and the other would just like to spend some quality time. I hate love. I always have. It's never been kind to me. I have become a full blown out and out cynic. In fact, I've always had a very strong hunch that i was an evil queen in my last birth, who separated lovers and got between the way of true love.

Anyway, at the end of the day, you cant force things to happen. If you get hurt, deal with it. Don't mope for too long, don't mope for too little time. Mope for just the exact amount of hours.

If, on the other hand, you get lucky and end up with the man of your dreams, good for you! Just don't come around gloating about it to the rest of us single folks and make us look like wimps. Thankyou very much.