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.