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.