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.