Rima Kaur

It Dropped on Newton's Head

2011-08-09T20:56:00.001+05:30

(So by this time next year I'll be a professionally qualified teacher)

At class today we were discussing how the greatest thinkers of this world have been school drop-outs. The teacher gave Newton's example- how he was sitting under a tree when an apple fell on his head and he suddenly "discovered" gravity. While the story is factually incorrect, it's what everyone all over the world believes.

My fanciful mind took flight. I thought of all possible things that could have fallen on poor Newton's head to make the story more interesting...

A scene flashed in front of my eyes- A teacher stands in front of her class of fifty, with rather stern looking glasses perched on her nose. Her forehead is wrinkled. With a serious expression on her face, she begins, "One fine day, a young lad named Newton was sitting under an apple tree when a bird flew above him and shat squarely on his head.."

Anything to make classes a little more interesting!

Versatile

2011-07-14T16:55:00.006+05:30

Kimi from Beauty Diaries was kind enough to give me the title of "Versatile Blogger" recently. Thank you so much, Kimi. You have no idea how motivating this is for me! I am not a very frequent blogger but I'll always try to have a decent stream of posts over here.

EDIT (16th July) : Deepika from Deepika Designs also bestowed me with the same honour today. Thank you so much! Double deal!

Well, part of receiving this award is revealing SEVEN random things about myself. So here goes!

1. I love animals and cannot see them getting hurt, even a bit. But isn't it ironical that I love my plate of chicken biryani?
2. I was a conceited, rude and condescending person until a few years back. I still am all those things, but to a very small degree.
3. I can spend my whole day driving.
4. I am not very fond of children and they do irritate me quite a bit, but I've still chosen to become a teacher. The only time I am one with them and love them for who they are is when I'm at the front of the classroom.
5. I like to be quiet when I'm at home. I go completely mute!
6. I don't need drugs or alcohol to act strangely. I get high on happiness (and sugar!)
7. i dnt lik usng sms lingo!

Now I have to answer the following questions as well -

Name your favorite color: Green
Name your favorite song: Too many to list
Name your favorite dessert: Cheesecake, Icecream Sundaes
What is pissing you off?: Nothing :)
When you’re upset, you?: Become a recluse
Your favorite pet: Any playful dog
Black or White?: Neither, bright colours!
Your biggest fear?: Insects, particularly spiders! Brr!!
My best feature is: Earlobes :P
Everyday attitude: Don't know what that means!
What is perfection: Being the best you can be
Guilty pleasure: Lipsticks!

I have to award this title to 15 people. I think that's a bit too much! For now, I would like to present it to R's Mom. She blogs about being a mom to her beautiful daughter, her life in Mumbai, her family etc. I love her keen sense of observation and her sensible opinions about many issues under the sun. Please accept this, R's Mom!

Oral Pleasures

2011-07-14T16:19:00.001+05:30

Freud said that the mouth is an errogenous zone; and being "obsessed" with lip biting, lipsticks and kissing, who am I to disagree? (I'm leaving out certain things here!)

A couple of months back, I had this strong urge to light up a ciggie. There were some issues in my life that just wouldn't resolve and I was pretty much on tenterhooks. As much as I despised the horrible smelling grey smoke, I was drawn to it more and more. I would swoon whenever a friend lit up around me. Remember those old Disney cartoons where delicious smells wafted out of the oven and hypnotised the hungry? That's exactly what was happening to me! I had a sutta or two and allowed my throat to scratch up..

Thanks to the horrible fear I have of wrecking my skin, I gave up smoking without really giving it much of a shot.

And what would I do without certain people who threatened to kill me if I became addicted?

Image via Flickr

Sitting Alone, Thinking About Companionship!

2011-06-12T15:36:00.002+05:30

It's a basic human need

My friends have always complained that I think too much. It can't be helped, thoughts consume me! When I'm not introspecting, I'm wondering about other people, their behaviour, what motivates them to act the way they do...

Is that why I've always been comfortable being alone? I have never felt lonely. To me, solitude equals solace.

In the past few weeks, however, my thoughts have largely hovered around companionship. I'll squarely blame my friends for this! All of a sudden, they seem to be marrying or at least getting engaged. Now how is that supposed to make a single girl feel?

Like a pendulum, I fluctuate.

While I feel relieved for still having many years ahead of me that are mine, I also crave someone who I can chew off in times of need. (Statement open to all forms of interpretation!).

But, it's only natural. Remember how as kids we were taught that human beings are "social animals"? We just aren't meant to live alone. Unlike tigers, who only mingle with their kind in the mating season, humans find it absolutely comforting to be surrounded by loving, caring friends and family. Now, I do have all of that, but the Sagittarius in me needs more; and I'm pretty sure when I do have more, I'll wish for something else!

Help!

Image via Google

Gym-Shym!

2010-12-21T19:27:00.004+05:30

I sort people into categories. Over the past seven months, new ones have been created all thanks to my work-out sessions at the gym.

Gimme my medicine! *snort* *snort*

The Gorillas

You know you've spotted a gorilla when you see someone with short legs and huge, muscular arms that stick out on the sides. Said arms remain stationary and move only to make that bottle of protein shake after the usual two hour work out. They have the ability to flex muscles in front of the mirror all day. Will go to any lengths to make others feel their biceps. Also known as The Frogs.

More! More!

The Screamers

The Screamers lift weights that are a hundred kilos too heavy for them. As a result, the gym resonates with their raucous grunts and snorts at regular intervals. You'll always find them bossing around the little helpers at the gym. They are never seen on treadmills, cycles or elliptical trainers but always found in the heavy weights section where regular mortals don't usually dare to venture.

Can you tell that I just worked out?!

The Sweaters

No, these aren't your regular woollen sweaters. These sweaters leave gigantic watery puddles all over the place. Equipment used by them is forever submerged in litres of salty sweat. Their clothes are wet, translucent and capable of putting at least one fully grown skunk to shame. Ironically, they never carry a towel.

Aah! Yeah!

The Moaners

This category is exclusively for the most out-of-shape members of the female species. They stick around the gym instructors like flies to a honey pot. When made to do the simplest of exercises, they bite their lips and contort their faces. Orgasmic moans follow. Innocent people outside the gym usually wonder what shady work goes on inside.

MAMPTWO

Middle Aged Men Pretending To Work Out.. They're usually retired and balding. They walk at 4 kmph but their real interest lies elsewhere. With eyes wandering all over the place, they glance frequently at the mirrors to check out that cute chick with the tight ass in the other corner of the gym. Relatively harmless.

What you starin' at?

The Starer

There is usually only one such person per gym. He goggles at others (usually with a startled expression) as if it's going out of fashion. Leaves no stone unturned in making you feel like you've got a giant worm coming out of your nose.

Then there is the other starer. He's usually the horniest guy in the gym and wants to ask you out before you can say "rape". He follows you around and wants to use the cycle just as you begin pedalling. Also known as the Gym Stalker.

Land Grabbers

You know squatters? They build homes on government property and refuse to relocate. Same is the case with Land Grabbers. They sprawl themselves over yoga mats in any free corner of the gym and spread their paraphernalia around them. Then you know they aren't gonna move for at least a couple of weeks.

The Slackers

Slackers roam around aimlessly in the gym with a distant expression on their face. Their clothes are crisp and devoid of sweat and their towels still reek of fabric softener. They sigh excessively and work out for not more than three minutes per machine. Any motivation to linger on is met with self-doubt and then some more sighing.

Blue Moons

Every gym has not one, but multiple Blue Moons. They usually show up only to renew their horribly expensive yearly membership. No instructor knows their names and even the receptionist greets them with, "So would you like to enroll in our gym?".

Mama says I'm pretty

Desperate Strugglers

The Desperate Struggler is either an obese woman trying to lose weight or a spindly man trying to gain muscle. Both religiously follow their routine, in vain. Eventually, they join the category of Blue Moons.

I just lost five kgs!

The Attention Seekers

Their necklines are a little too low and shorts a little too high. With clothes so tight, it's possible to make out the contours of organs. The slightest stretching means free porn for everybody.

Which category do you belong to?

Images via Wikipedia

Sometimes I Wish It Never Happened

2010-12-18T21:41:00.002+05:30

You haven't truly learnt anything until you share your knowledge and experiences with others.

So I share.

Yesterday night I was chatting with a friend of mine and he asked me a rather uncomfortable question. Well, the question itself wasn't as uncomfortable as the answer.

He asked me whether there was anything I wanted to erase from my life. A question that I have always answered with a boring, "There's always something to learn from unpleasantness"; but this time, I paused and thought.

It did not take me long to figure out exactly what it was that I wanted to discard from my life like an unwanted weed.

I was about eight years old and not very different from other girls my age.

I was also a victim of sexual abuse.

It lasted a couple of years.

The person was a family member.

Now, you might be having a rather sorry image of mine in your head where I'm little, scared and crying. Thankfully though, that wasn't the case. My age came to my advantage. When you're that young, you don't fully comprehend what's happening to you. I happily sailed through my life and apart from those few tense moments, I was a content, smiling child who laughed the loudest among her friends.

The real problems arose many years later, when I was in my mid teens. There was a growing awareness within me that I had been sexually abused. My unconscious was always buzzing with what had happened and that resulted in many behavioural and psychological problems. I became a bitter, rude and condescending person. I would frequently get into fights with boys and often went to the extent of beating them up. I was unsympathetic to the needs of others and often made cruel jokes at their expense. I felt disconnected with the other girls. Their supposed emotional and physical weakness disgusted me no end. I ridiculed them for not being able to handle their stupid problems and wondered how they could dwell for so long over insignificant matters.

Of course, with time I realized that I just couldn't continue with such behaviour and thoughts. I tried my best to become more emphatic, developed a softer attitude towards others and worked towards developing a calmer and more mature disposition. After all that hard work, I began to see that my anger had subsided and I had become a more pleasing person to be with. By the end of my teens, I was once again like any other person my age.

However, I was still troubled deep inside. I decided that the best way to get rid of all these teeming thoughts would be to share them with someone. I decided to confide in my closest friend. We talked a lot and came to the conclusion that I would only feel at ease once I revealed everything to my mother.

So, travelling in an autorickshaw one cold winter night, I decided to tell her everything. I started at the very beginning and poured my heart out. By the end of it, I finally felt at peace. From that day forth, I have never had a single unpleasant thought in my head regarding my abuse. It is done and in my past. I do not carry it forward with me.

Of course, I did confront the family member about his actions. He broke down, apologised and wished he could take it all back.

Well, he can't.

And that is why I sometimes wish this never happened. It would have been a different life.. a different me..

Oh! To Be Little Again!

2010-08-25T12:20:00.003+05:30

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

(Most) children are innocent and with each day spent at the school teaching children, my belief is reinforced.

"You're little now, so you're called a girl and he's called a boy. What will you be called when you grow up?"

"Human!"

"Err... Aren't you a human now?"

"No! I'm a kid."

In another incident, a rather feisty boy from class III came up to me and said, "Ma'am, you know what Aditya told a group of girls from class IV?"
"No.... What did he say?"
"He said, 'Girrrrrls! Come here!'" (Saying so, he roared with laughter and poor Aditya flushed a deep shade of crimson.)

So you see. While we stand scratching our heads wondering what happened, almost anything makes a little kid laugh!

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

The youngest children I teach always love looking at colourful photographs and pictures. This always felicitates interesting conversation, which is basically the prime motive of my classes, so the other day I borrowed a book from the library. It was about the circus and had large photographs of trapeze artists, lions, the ringmaster, flame throwers etc.. When I opened the first page of the book and showed it to the class, they let out a collective gasp. Sensing that something was wrong, I turned the book towards myself and had a long hard look at the page.
"What's wrong guys? It's just a couple of lions!"
"Oh Ma'am! Can't you see? They're all running around in a circle and a couple of them are standing on stools! Waaaooow!"
Hmm.. I saw nothing spectacular in a couple of lions running around on their hind legs, but they did. Why's that?

The main reason for our lack of enthusiasm at the simple things of life is because we've been there, done that. We've all let out our gasps and had our share of wows. A tiny earthworm splitting into two tinier ones does not excite us. We don't hoot with laughter when we see someone wearing a foil hat. A puppy scratching its head off is mundane. Uninteresting.

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

When was the last time we asked an interesting question? Children do that all the time. They're full of queries. No answer completely quenches their curiosity. Some of their favourite words are "what" and "why". Why are your nails green today? What is in your bag? Why is that boy crying? What do you mean? Why are you so short? Why are your feet so small? Why are you shouting? So on and so forth. You'll get tired of answering but the questions just won't stop coming! That's the beauty of childhood.

Now the problem arises when these children grow up and turn into.. well.. us! Grumpy old adults sans enthusiasm. We hem and haw over how much we know, how much we've seen. I personally believe that the day we stop being curious and enthusiastic, we lead a pointless existence. Blessed are those who realize this! A couple of days back I got a beautiful message from one of the sweetest persons I've meet in life. Having recently acquired a job, he has little time for himself and those around him. The message goes like this (ignore the errors that are typical of forwarded messages)-

One day we will all be sitting and thinking hard about life...
How it changed from a simple college life to the strict professional life...
How pocket money changed to huge monthly pay cheques, but gives less happiness..
How a few local jeans changed to a new, branded wardrobe, but less occasions left to wear them to...
How a single plate of samosa changed to a full pizza, but the hunger is less...
How a bike always in reserve changed to a car always full of petrol, but less places to go to...
How a tea by the roadside changed to CCD, Barista; but no friends for gossiping...
How a general class journey changed to travelling by flight; but less vacations for enjoyment...
Maybe this is the truth of the journey called "life"...

I'm sure we'll all associate with these words (even if just a bit!). Hidden behind this message is a desperate need to be little again; to be untroubled and carefree again! We all desire to go back to that stage of life where stress meant an exam; a decision meant choosing the right subjects and sorrow meant getting over a crush! An extremely popular Facebook page with over one lakh "fans" is very appropriately titled- "I wish I was little again, when the hardest choice was picking a crayon".

Sigh... To be little again!

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

Beneath The Smiles

2010-06-12T22:23:00.005+05:30

You set off to earn your bread and butter, leaving a bonny baby and smiling wife behind. Driving through the chaos, you realize how everything you ever wanted from life is there for you, giving you a reason to go on and be happy. The usual grind at work does nothing to dampen your spirits because you know you're going to be home in a few hours. You just can't wait...
She says she wants to lie down. Pretty unusual for her at this time of the day. She's smiling though, so it means she's all right. Just tired perhaps. Let her rest, she needs it. It's difficult to raise a child without any help.
You enter the room and find her on the bed with her eyes open. She's smiling still. It's hot, but she's all covered up. Looks like her body's aching.
Are you all right? Why don't you get up now? It's been a long time, let's grab something to eat.
She doesn't reply. Her eyes are now shut. Has she gone to sleep? Maybe you should come back later and let her rest a little while longer. But what's this? There's water on the floor. You better wipe it or she'll slip and fall. Switch on the lights.
What's all this?? Get up, get up!
It's not water, it's blood. There's blood everywhere. On the floor, on the sheets.. She should have gone to the doctor for a proper abortion.

Image by Noel A. Tanner via Flickr

Big Ass Thunder Thighs!

2010-05-14T15:22:00.002+05:30

Image by Sol Lang via Flickr

If thighs could speak, here's what mine would say-

I was born chubby and soft. Then I was pounded to perfection by the deft hands of the maalish lady. In the comforting warmth of the winter sun, I shone like polished brass.

As time passed by, I realized there was something different about me. I was slightly bent and even though I was slim, I really wasn't. Still, at that age and time, it didn't really matter.

A few more years passed by and I ballooned out of proportion. I jiggled and wiggled in a manner that can scarcely be called attractive. Oh, what a low point that was!

But something happened! Like clay moulded into shape, I took form. I went in and curved out at the right places. I could see that even though I was still different, I looked better than most. I still jiggle and still wiggle, but God! I've arrived!

Priority One, Two, Three..

2010-05-04T11:32:00.002+05:30

Image by Jesse Draper via Flickr

One moment you're fine, smelling the grass and admiring the clouds; the next moment, BAM! You're flat on your face with a major concussion.

The big bang I planned for my beauty blog (that no longer exists!) has now gone phut and I blame no one in particular and everyone in general for it. I have never faced such testing times in my life. There are cyclones in my head and I think there might even be a tsunami in there somewhere.

So exactly how do I shake off these natural disasters? My state of mind can be described as "confused" and whenever I face confusion, I wait for time to pass. I'll probably be enlightened while I sleep.

Till then, I wait...!

Will Be Back With A Bang!

2010-03-27T21:40:00.002+05:30

Image by JJRR90 via Flickr

So I just received my date sheet. Exams begin from 7th April and go on till the 27th.

You'll see my first post at Delhi Delhi Beauty as soon as I get back!

Presenting Gifts, Gifting Presents

2010-03-22T23:29:00.001+05:30

After Daddy, my nanaji (grandfather), passed away, I chose to inherit his large collection of Reader's Digests. Whenever I feel particularly bored, I pick one at random. Today happened to be February 2001's lucky day. I flipped over to a short article written by Kanaka Singh, interestingly titled "The Fine Art Of Gift Giving". Three bits that are particularly enlightening-

"...a well-chosen gift gives pleasure and leaves you with a feeling of warmth and goodwill towards the donor. In contrast, if you select the gift hastily and mindlessly, you risk displeasing and perhaps even offending the recipient."

"There's no simple formula to guide you to the perfect gift. The best choices depend on knowing the recipient well: the person's tastes, needs and dreams. If you're at your wits' end, research the problem by interviewing a spouse, a close friend or colleague."

"In most circumstances, money can be a suitable gift."

Image by fille_de_photo via Flickr

I chatted with two of my friends to find out their views about this.

Neha Khanna, a 22 year old MBA student from London says, "A gift makes a difference. It's a way of acknowledging people. It tells them that you think about their needs." So does she get excited at the prospect of receiving receiving one herself? "Personally, accepting a gift is no longer a desire. It doesn't make a difference."

I however, love receiving gifts. A birthday without them is devastatingly boring and an ordinary day with them is enormously special. I personally can never forget the day a dear friend presented me with a nail polish. It was a shade that I loved and had a particularly hard time finding. The gift was out of the blue and totally unexpected, but it showed just how much my friend valued me.

Image via icanhascheezburger

Sukhmani Kochar, a final year graduate student from Delhi University, aptly explains how the price of the gift (generally!) doesn't matter, "I have never asked for gifts from anyone, be it parents, siblings or friends, but my last birthday was special as I had all my friends around me. The bouquet of flowers that they sent at midnight was really touching. The best part was a scrapbook that they made and gifted me." She further adds, "It does not matter whether the gift is expensive, but yes, if I find someone special, I'll demand a luxurious gift from him!" Sigh! The prospect of getting something luxurious sounds very tempting!

However, we have all had our share of "bad" gifts. When my family and I moved into our new house, we were presented with quite a lot of stuff from near and dear ones. Among the usual set of glasses and wall hangings, we received a bed sheet set complete with two pillow cases. Now there's nothing wrong with gifting bed sheets, but when those sheets are bright pink in colour with gigantic lime green cabbages, you know there's something wrong!

That's the reason why I love the concept of giving cash (I am not a fan of gift certificates!). This especially holds true for little children on their birthdays. When I was little, I would always end up with three or four boxes of plastic makeup, which was a rage back then. My brother would be showered with truckloads of "Picnic", a much loved board game. Such "popular" gifts always took the fun out of gift opening sessions! The same holds true for brides and grooms on their weddings. Imagine the plight of the poor couple as they contemplate the future of their nth juicer-mixer-grinder!

So the next time you buy a gift, think twice. Choose something that the receiver will cherish. There are better things out there than deodorants and show pieces!

What was the crappiest gift you ever received? (My boyfriend says that no matter what the gift is, you must never criticize it. Well I can't help it!)

My First Award Then Another

2010-03-18T20:49:00.002+05:30

Cynthia Zacharica from Indian Vanity Case presented me with this award on 28th February. Thank you so much Cynthia! This is my first award and I will always remember it!

Seven things that make me happy - playing with dogs, driving, anything makeup related, chicken biryani!, blogging, travelling, being with close friends and family.

I would like to present this award to Anu Jayanth, author of The Finger Puppet. She exudes happiness! This is my way of thanking her for innumerable reasons.

I also wanted to present this to Sugar Cube from Squaring A Circle but her blog isn't there! God! What happened? I hope she's fine. We're the same age and I thoroughly enjoyed reading her posts.

Poornima from Glitter Glamour Grace presented me with One Lovely Blog Award on 1st March. This is the best compliment that you could give me Poornima! Thank you so much!

I would like to present this award to Smita Srivastava from Little Food Junction. She describes her blog as a place for "food display, garnish and presentation" and it truly is! Smita, you inspire me to give a twist to even the most basic dishes that I rustle up in the kitchen!

Another Feature On An Indian's Makeup Musings!

2010-03-18T01:07:00.000+05:30

Image by mmmcrafts via Flickr

Indian Girl was once again kind enough to have me on her blog- An Indian's Makeup Musings! I'm always excited to share bits and pieces with her and she returns the love in the most generous way! Thank you so much!

The post is about my most treasured makeup brush kit. To read the post, go here.

Celebrating 100 Posts By Invoking God's blessings!

2010-03-15T00:55:00.003+05:30

Image by campra via Flickr

Before beginning I would like to thank Rima for letting me spill out my thoughts on her blog! This is my first attempt so excuse me for not being as articulate and expressive as the owner of this blog is..!!!

In life I have learnt (through very hard lessons) to accept my limitations as a person in this world and not push those limits to enter someone else's territory. Yet there are a few things that still distress me and force me to leave my usual composure which I try so hard to maintain. One of those things is "ANDHVISHWAAS". I would have used the English word "superstition", but no, I don't think that word captures what I am trying to pry into. "Andhvishwaas", I would rather translate as blind and often foolish faith in some people or the "higher power" as we refer to. Here, let me make it clear that I AM NOT AN ATHEIST. I however fail to understand why people place their inner locus of control into the hands of others. These days news channels are full of babas-cum-conmen who fool people so easily, playing on this very faith. This really makes me think. Are we so unprepared to face life and its consequences that we find contentment in being blindly led by others?

I recently visited a famous temple in Vrindavan. Instead of coming out blissful and blessed, I was thankful for managing to come out safely without hurting myself or others. I'll give a brief description of what I saw there... atop a platform stood Radha-Krishna, surrounded by at least four or five pujaris. They allowed us lesser mortals to catch a glimpse of the deities for barely five minutes, only to hide them again. They claimed that an evil eye would be cast on the Gods if they were exposed to the crowds for too long. How that is possible, I don't know. What resulted was utter chaos. People pushed, shoved and even hit each other in order to "purify" their souls by having just one look at the deities. I actually witnessed two men in the crowd getting violent with each other. The pujaris, while standing next to Radha-Krishna, smirked at their control over the mad public. It is instances like these, when I hear about people either walking barefoot on stony paths or cutting themselves to prove to the Lord how faithful they are to him, that I realize the enormity of people's blind faith. It amazes me and depresses me at the same time to see people disrespecting the greatest instrument that they possess - their bodies.

I don't know why people don't realize that the very God's they are praying to have all once walked the earth we inhabit today; be it Ram, Krishna, Prophet Mohammad, Guru Nanak or Jesus Christ. They were all humans; the only difference was that they realized their full potential before "attaining" the status of God. It is in the hands of people to become God, but only when they become fully human. It has been proven time and again how the most ordinary human beings later do great things in life. Yet people, instead of focussing on their inner growth and development; delve deeper into this web of superstition and waste their precious gift of life. I don't know what others think, but I personally feel that life holds an opportunity for everyone to become God. How you utilize this opportunity is ultimately your choice and hence its repercussions are yours too. Stop looking above at the sky to find hidden meanings. Stop looking at the invisible God. Look within. In the end you will find everything there.

- Asmita Sharma is a 20 year old Psychology student from Lady Shri Ram College for Women. She is also my dear friend. She agreed to furnish the 100th post for this blog at my request. As stated earlier- she is not an atheist.

Bird Stalking

2010-02-26T00:20:00.003+05:30

Here is something sinister I did about a year ago. I followed a bird around till it gave me one dirty, lethal look. I had to flee.

THE EVIL LOOK!

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Beauty Questionnaire With Some Extra Questions Of My Own

2010-02-25T00:32:00.001+05:30

Image by bambola_world via Flickr

SKINCARE

1. How many times do you wash your face daily?

I was my face once in the morning. Then before going to sleep, I use lotion/cream with cotton to clean off the dirt accumulated over the day.

2. What skin type do you have? (dry, oily, combo)

Horribly dry skin in winters and combination skin in summers (dry face with a painfully oily nose!).

3. What is your current facial wash?

Fabindia's Avocado Facewash.

4. Do you exfoliate?

Yes, once in two or three days.

5. What brand do you use?

I am currently using hand pounded Peach kernel granules produced by Women's Groups in Kullu. It's a dry powder fluff that I add to my face wash to scrub. Polishes my skin and makes it as smooth and shiny as a mirror.

6. What moisturizer do you use?

I am currently using Lakme's Strawberry Creme.

7. Do you have freckles?

No.

8. Do you use eye cream?

No, I don't need one at the moment.

9. Do you or did you have acne prone skin?

I went through what every average girl goes through on the onset of puberty. At the moment, I get a spot or two during those three or four days of the month.

10. Did you ever have to use Pro-activ?

No.

MAKE-UP

11. What foundation do you use?

At the moment, Lakme's Face Magic Daily Wear Souffle.

12. How about concealer?

Bourjois Brush Concealer.

13. Do you know your undertone colour?

Yellow (warm) undertones.

14. What do you think of fake eyelashes?

I've never worn them myself, but I've seen others wearing them. They look good, but only on special occasions.

15. Did you know that you are supposed to change your mascara every few months?

Yes. When am I going to hear enough of it?!

16. What brand of mascara do you use?

I generally don't use mascara because I my eyes are prone to styes. But on those rare occasions where mascara is an absolute must, I either use Oriflame's Watercolor Gloss Mascara in "Sea Green" or The Body Shop's Lash and Brow Gel. I don't find it necessary to use black mascara and prefer clear ones.

17. Sephora or MAC?

Sadly, no Sephora in India. But I am nuts about Mac!

18. Do you have a MAC-Pro-card?

I hope to get one soon.

19. What makeup tools do you use in makeup application?

I use all makeup brushes along with an eyelash comb, powder puff and sponges. Then of course, are my trusted fingers!

20. Do you use make-up base/primer for the eyes?

Yes, I use cream eyeshadow as a base.

21. For the face?

Not found it necessary. My face makeup stays put.

22. What is your favourite eye shadow (colour or shade)?

I love all colours on my eyes! Anything from greens and blacks to plums and browns!

23. Do you use pencil or liquid liner?

Both.

24. How often do you poke your eyes with an eyeliner pencil?

Never had such a painful experience till now!

25. What do you think of pigment eye shadows?

They have awesome pigment, but are also all over the place. One jar lasts for a long time, so I get bored. They must be a blessing for makeup artists!

26. Do you use mineral makeup?

Not attracted towards it!

27. What is your favourite lipstick?

Just one? That's wrong! There's a tie between MAC lipstick, Estee Lauder Signature Hydra and Revlon Super Lustrous.

28. How about lip-gloss?

I don't fancy lip gloss anymore.

29. What is your favourite blush to use?

Revlon Sheer Powder Blush in Honey Bunch

30. Do you buy your makeup on eBay?

NO! Totally untrustworthy!

31. Do you like drugstore makeup?

A big and resounding YES! What would we all do without it?

32. Do you go to CCO's (cosmetic company outlets)?

Yes, there's nothing better!

33. Did you ever consider taking makeup classes?

Loads of times, but I will only go to a place that has the best resources and gives the right exposure.

34. Are you clumsy in putting on makeup?

I have artistic leanings, so applying makeup is not a problem.

35. Name a makeup crime that you hate?

It's so hard to name only one! I shudder at mismatched foundation and lip liner (who doesn't?). I also cringe at poorly applied eye shadow, hairy arms/legs/pits on girls, fake looking ringlets/curls on either side of the face (regularly seen at Indian weddings!), gigantic bouffonts (another common sight at the same weddings).. The list can go on and on..

36. Do you like colourful shaded of makeup (lipstick, eye shadow) or neutral ones?

I love anything and everything! Colourful eyes, smokey eyes, nude lips, bright lips.. EVERYTHING!

37. Which celebrity always has great makeup?

There are quite a few! Off the top of my head, I would say Katrina Kaif.

38. If you could leave the house using just ONE makeup item, what would you use?

Lip balm is not a makeup item, otherwise I would have named that. So, I would have to say lipstick.

39. Could you ever leave the house without any makeup on?

Yes, that's how I step out on most days.

40. Do you think you look good even without any makeup on?

TOTALLY!

41. In your opinion, what is the BEST makeup line?

Mac, without a doubt.

42. What do you think of makeup?

Ever since I was young, my mother has been giving me two bits of advice that every lady, according to her, must follow. One is to carry a decent purse/bag to keep things in and the other is to always apply lipstick (now that there's lip gloss, you can use that as substitute). Now these two things have stuck with me. Makeup surely does not "make" me, but it does lend colour to my face and that is something I absolutely love. I recommend every woman to use it.

Image by bambola_world via Flickr

Alright, I am done. Those I know have already answered these questions or are probably answering them right now, so I don't find it necessary to tag anyone in particular. However, if you've missed these questions, then you're more than welcome to answer them now. A flaw with this questionnaire was that it seemed a little culture specific, so I have come up with a few questions of my own. I tag all the wonderful people that I have met through Rati's and Tanveer's respective blogs and also both of them.

1. Which cosmetic brands do you want to see in India?

I want all cosmetic brands to open shop in India, especially NYX. I wish it was more readily available. I will have to make a special trip to Mumbai just to get that brand.

2. What are the most common excuses you've heard Indian women give for not wearing makeup?

"I don't have time", "I am too old", "Makeup is unnecessary", "It's a waste of money", "Do I look like a slut?"..

3. Name the makeup products that you would continue to use even after hitting 50.

As of now, I think that I would use lipstick and a pencil eyeliner of a very soft shade.

4. Has any beauty advice ever gone wrong for you?

I used turmeric on my face for some godforsaken reason and turned yellow for a good two days! Read more here.

5. When was the last time you committed a beauty blunder?

I slept with makeup on and got up with a stye in both eyes! I should have been more careful. Talk about ignorance!

6. If you could change one thing in an average Indian bride's marriage look, what would it be?

Reduce the glittery red cheeks.

7. Name one makeup product that you will never use.

I don't think I will ever use face glitter.

8. What beauty treatments do you regularly undergo at your parlour?

I don't undergo any beauty treatment at the parlour. Plain ol' waxing and threading, that's all!

9. Have you ever faced criticism from friends or family for your makeup obsession?

I get a lot of brickbats from my father, but he ends up smiling when he sees how thrilled I get because of makeup. My boyfriend teases me to bits, but all in a sweet manner. Friends know that I am a makeup junkie, it's a part of my personality!

10. What is the one makeup look that you just cannot pull off? (This question has been inspired from Rati's interview on Divija Reddy's blog. Divija, you have earned yet another admirer, me!)

I am eagerly waiting to turn a few years older so that I can freely wear red lipstick. It looks smokin' hot! If I wear that colour now, people are going to talk shit.

Adding Labels To My Blog

2010-02-20T23:01:00.002+05:30

I have now added labels to all my blog posts. You can access them from the "Labels" section on the right. Browsing this blog will now be easier as you can directly go to the category of your choice. Labels include friendship, personal opinion, photos, one liners and poems. Do you find this helpful? Kindly leave your comments. As you know, they feed my blog!

(Anti)Social Networking

2010-02-19T23:22:00.004+05:30

Image by ° ρЯίтΛм ° [busy] via Flickr

A former classmate of mine who is on the verge of completing her Journalism degree (that I too had joined but later left, as regulars to my blog might know) recently uploaded a questionnaire to her Facebook account and requested everyone to take time off and fill it up. All for research purposes. Well, this is exactly the kind of thing I love doing.. filling up forms and all that! So I quickly clicked a few buttons and reached the questionnaire. All about social networking sites, how much time I spend online, what I do online etc. Pretty interesting, eh?

Now after answering sixty odd questions, my mind was buzzing with Facebook, Blogger and Youtube. My mind went back to the times when internet was more like a distant reality. Then I thought about the day I got my first computer (class III), the day that computer got an internet connection (class V), the day I created my first email address (again in class V, not to mention the long hours I took to cook up a funky name so that I could appear ten times cooler in front of my friends that I actually was!), the day I joined my first social networking site (Hi5) and so on and so forth. Since then, I have come a long way and so has the internet.

From Hi5, I graduated to Orkut. Hi5 became a thing of the past and it started being looked upon as a site for bacchas. Now, I kinda felt sorry for it. I would imagine a tiny person with "Hi5" instead of a head, sulking away in a corner, sniffing and shedding tears (I have this thing of feeling very sorry for inanimate things. When I was little, I would pick up a spoon to eat with and feel really sorry for the rest, imagining that they would become sad and lonely, and thinking, "Sorry guys, I'll definitely pick you up next time.").

Orkut became all the rage for quite some time. Soon, everybody was battling a silent war, an unspoken war. Everyone wanted more "fans" than their friends, people were obsessed with who visited their profiles, there was competition to be the proud owner of thirty thousand scraps. Of course, I too was taken in by this madness. Luckily, I regained composure quite soon and quit the site the moment reality hit me. Orkut drove many people to their virtual nervous breakdowns.

Life was beautiful after that. I could bask in the sunshine once more and smell the fragrant flowers. The world appeared to be much more pleasant with much less pretence. But BAM! Good things don't last forever! Requests from friends filled my mailbox, asking me to join this "Facebook". I got tired of deleting these godforsaken mails and finally decided to check out the site. A few awkward moments of signing in later (the site was at that time too full of itself, asking totally pointless questions and giving too much importance to all kinds of years like year of birth, year of graduation blah blah..), I was in! Well, I didn't really use the so called "book" for a long time, not until it was amended to become more friendly, warm and approachable (words that were till now used only to describe people!). What do I say now? I am hooked! Yes, I took to "farming" for a while, but then my "plants" died and I started getting withdrawal symptoms (for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, all I can say is you're better off not knowing!). But now I think I have finally found my grey cells and learnt to maintain a delicate balance between real and virtual.

But hey, there are times when the scale tips just a little...

Getting Featured On Makeup And Beauty

2010-02-19T18:32:00.008+05:30

Image by -=Hot $sauce=- via Flickr

I've written another guest post for another one of my favourite beauty blogs - Indian Makeup and Beauty Blog on 18th February 2010, which was yesterday. To read my guest post, go here.

A BIG thanks to Rati, the mind behind Makeup and Beauty. She inspired me to write about my passion for makeup and gave me the courage to set up my own beauty blog, Daily Delhi Beauty. It will be up and about from May 2010. Rati, I admire your enthusiasm. You're truly a sport. Not only have I found a great beauty blogger in you, but have also found others like Tanveer from Addicted to Blush. Both of you are absolute sweethearts and keep me abreast of the Indian beauty scene.

I really encourage people to feature guest posts on their blogs. I am myself yet to do so!

Truly God's Own Country!

2010-02-15T18:33:00.006+05:30

So I went to Kochi/Cochin for a couple of days (finally my prayers were answered!) and basically had a great time. Saw the city, a beach, mountains and even a waterfall! All in one package, eh? Thought of going ahead to Munnar but somehow couldn't work it out. The weather was beautiful. I expected it to be just like Bombay, but was pleasantly surprised. None of the stifling humidity, probably because it's still February. This was my second trip to beautiful Kerala, the first being to Trivandrum/Thiruvananthapuram when I was very, very young.

Here are a few snapshots that sum up my trip pretty well (this time round I won't write much, unlike my trip to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia). Enjoy the virtual tour!

Nedumbassery Airport

Marine Drive, Ernakulam

Spice Shop, Broadway, Ernakulam

Marine Drive, Ernakulam

Who needs hot pants?

Coconut trees.. Oh how I love them!

I find this photo eerily beautiful

Cheriar Beach

Now this is one shop I want to see in Delhi

The tall green army stands tall

Government-run Palm tree plantation, for affordable oil

Forgot the name of this place, but it was on the way to Athirapally Falls

Mummy and Papa

A beautiful restaurant on the way to Athirapally Falls

Athirapally Falls

Athirapally Falls. Got really pooped climbing back up from here!

A beautiful flower that papa picked up from the ground and gave me

Rubber tree plantation. Look at the tiny cup at the bottom!

The tallest/highest coconut tree I've ever seen!

Athirapally Falls. Mummy was too tired to go all the way down, so she kept herself happy by looking from a distance!

Way back home

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Mini Celebrity

2010-02-05T19:37:00.004+05:30

Image by woodleywonderworks via Flickr

What do you say when a little girl from class four asks you about your interest in writing? I of course, said that I am an ardent reader of books and love to write as well; and perhaps when the class would all grow up, they would get to read my books. All said in jest, because I don't think I would ever publish a book. But it was shockingly surprising (I wouldn't call it pleasant!) to see the entire class run up to me, carrying diaries, notebooks and even scraps of paper to take my "autograph". All because I am to soon become a high profile writer with little or no time to get back to my dear students. They pushed, tugged and waged war with ear other to get to me first. I was caught completely off guard and took my own sweet time to regain composure. The rest of the class was spent signing my name and giving out my cellphone number...

Five Point Someone - The Play

2010-01-16T20:31:00.008+05:30

Images via www.chetanbhagat.com superimposed using Picasa

To all those who enjoyed reading Chetan Bhagat's "Five Point Someone - What not to do at IIT", here's some good news! The book is now also a play! I visited Chetan's blog today and got to know about it. To read more about what Chetan say's, go here.

Quick facts -

1. The play will be staged in nine different cities including Bangalore, Pune, Chandigarh, Delhi, Ahmedabad and Chennai.

2. Tickets are available for sale here. Early birds get a 50% discount!

I am pretty excited! Hope to see it soon!

What Is..?

2010-01-13T12:44:00.010+05:30

Image by db*photography via Flickr

This is non-fiction, created from personal experience. Enjoy!

Horror is when you go to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and see two pairs of eyes glinting in the corner, only to discover later that they are your pet dogs.

Disaster is trying to heave a six kilo blanket over your head, failing miserably, knocking off objects from the table, creating a major racket and waking up your father in the process who absolutely roars at anyone who disturbs his forty winks.

Sharing is pouncing into another person's lunch box to eat up her tasty aloo mattar and upon finishing it, offering her some soggy bread and butter from your own tiffin.

Health is rapidly climbing three flights of stairs without breaking a sweat and gloating about it, only to crash to the floor moments later because of a blackout.

Drama is making an attempt to skip school on a cold, foggy morning by saying that you can't move as you're "paralyzed" and that "it hurts to move".

Warmth is braving your first Delhi winter by snuggling close to your pet doggies in their bed, not worrying about the hair or the smell even though you have just taken bath and washed your hair too.

Punishment is waiting eagerly from morning to evening for your brother to come home with your precious packet of chicken biryani, only to see him come back empty handed as its Tuesday!

Retarded is being in school, firmly knotting your tie with the ties of two friends and spinning all over the grounds like a catherine wheel; then fleeing back pell-mell into the classroom when the Principal spots you from the opposite end and raises her fists in the air.

Gratitude is what you feel when your mother decides to give you extra bucks for shopping.

Laughter is sitting in class with your best friend and sniggering uncontrollably at the most random things like the Geography teacher talking about Kutchi people or something as remotely uninteresting as "La Mode" and pronouncing it wrongly in the first place, resulting in us breaking into peals of laughter.

Peace is hugging your loved one tight, giving out little sighs every now and then and not having a care in the world.

Relief is letting our a huge fart after an excruciating day of backache, stomach ache and general uneasiness and realizing that you weren't getting a heart attack after all.

Trust is not thinking once, let alone twice, when your boyfriend lounges on a beach filled with bikini clad girls a hundred times hotter than you.

Comfort is moving your bum just a little bit so that blood circulation returns back to normal.

Discomfort is being cramped in a metro train with a large flatulent woman on one side and a man with an erection on the other.

Focus is not feeling a thing even when an entire ice cube melts on the palm of your hand.

Out of focus is when you keep muttering "Hmm. Hmm." for the entire ten minutes that your mother narrates her shopping list, then ultimately asking "WHAT?"

Friendship is the ease with which you can sprawl yourself in someone else's house, no matter how early in the morning or how late at night. It is also completing each other's sentences and saying "I was about to say the same thing!" at least once.

Confidence is suddenly realizing that you can drive a manual transmission car even though you have been searching for a gearless one since ages.

Contentment is craving for something chocolate-y for a week, then finally laying hands on a rich chocolate cake injected with even richer chocolate syrup, with chocolate ice cream on the side.

Discontentment is buying more makeup that you would ever need and still wanting more.

Love is missing someone's presence even years after their death.

Obedience is listening to the Principal when she tells you to walk in a line, even though there are only two of you.

Curiosity is sneaking into the kitchen as a child to see what your mother has made, finding a bowl of halwa and taking a HUGE bite, only to find out two seconds later that it's a bowl of mashed, boiled potatoes.

Disgust is the feeling you get when you see a child throw up into his own hands. More disgust is what you feel when you see him eating it again.

Family is crowding around the dining table while the power supply has gone for a toss, talking about anything and everything under the sun; laughing, crying, discussing.

Mystery is being taught by a teacher for over a year, exchanging emails, chatting online, being buddies; but once you're done with exams and out of school, finding out that she is untraceable.

More might follow soon. Any ideas?

What I Have Learnt From Blogging

2010-01-07T21:55:00.011+05:30

Image by PlayfulLibrarian via Flickr

Over the months, as I have steadily maintained this blog, there are a few things that have struck me.

- A successful blogger is one who makes his own identity. There are a hundred travel blogs, a hundred photography blogs, a hundred makeup blogs and a hundred blogs like mine that are horribly random. What makes your blog so special?

- It does not matter how many followers you have, what matters is connecting to your readers. Remember, there are scores of people out there who dont follow you and chances are they will never comment either, but they still do read you. Even if that one line in that one post touches a chord with them, you've arrived!

- But it never hurts to get some love! And then some brickbats too! Both keep a sensible blogger going. I will never forget how someone called my blog "stale". It motivates me to get better. It always will. Use criticism in your favour.

- The best blogs out there are sometimes in tiny nooks and crannies. Popularity isn't the yardstick to measure a good blog.

- Content is king. If your blog is shabby, unorganized and all over the place with gigantic, ugly blocks of lettering, chances are people will not look beyond the first two or three posts. A blog with a hundred different colours and flashing images is an eyesore too. Having clean lines, a decent colour scheme and adequate spacing is not only soothing to look at but also inviting.

- Dont drive your readers crazy by saying the same rubbish again and again. Have buttons on the sides that let them know where they can follow you on twitter/Facebook. If they want to, they will. Repetitiveness is irritating!

- Animate! There should be a spring in your writing. I am not talking about flowery language, but a little imagination never killed anyone! A "sinfully rich chocolate cake" is so much more better than a "tasty chocolate cake"! Dont be boring!

- Your blog is a part of your identity. Dont be pretentious! If you aren't true to yourself and only write to please others, then rethink! I once had an utterly unoriginal blog. Every post I wrote was so uninspiring. Reason? I would read my fellow classmates' posts first and then write along similar lines. Of course, I realized my mistake soon after, deleted the crap and came out with this baby of mine. Needless to say, I am extremely proud of it!

- The world of blogs is not only about writing, but reading as well. Whats the point of preaching your butt off if you dont take the time off to see what others have to say? Dont be a "koo-ain ka maindak" (frog in a well)! Look around yourself and know more! It will enrich your personality!

- Be responsible. Dont make callous remarks and dont shoot from the hip. You might regret it later.

- Post at decent intervals of time. Dont make a hundred posts in one day. I used to really enjoy reading this particular blog, until her frequent postings (more than ten per day) cluttered my updates and irritated the hell out of me. Naturally, I developed a dislike for her and her blog.

- On the flip side, dont leave your readers in the lurch by being absent for a long time. If that is going to be the case, mention it in advance or take time out to apologize. More importantly, if you have shifted your blog or have taken the decision to stop writing altogether, let your readers know.

- Add pictures! I rate this very important. Those who know me will know why I say so! There is nothing duller than a text-only post! Of course, always mention your image source. I have been ignorant enough to not do so in the past but I have become very strict about it now. If the owner of the photograph requests for asking for permission first, please do! There is no end to copyright issues.

Well, well, well! I have come up with quite a list! Tell me what you feel about it. Do you agree or disagree? What have you learnt from the world of blogs? Do let me know your experiences!

The REAL 3 Idiots

2010-01-02T20:02:00.008+05:30

Image via Photogallery.Indiatimes.com

I am very disgusted by the Aamir Khan-Chetan Bhagat-Vidhu Vinod Chopra-Rajkumar Hirani-Abijat Joshi controversy. Shame on you! Aamir, I really admired you and watched your films with a lot of loyalty but I have really lost all respect for you. How could you call CB a person who wants to seek publicity by using you and the media? CB is a well known author and his books are loved by the young and old alike for their simple language yet intelligent and authentic story line. In fact, you're the ones who use the media to sell your films and rake in the moolah. You guys ought to be ashamed of yourself. I agree that the script has been written by Abhijat Joshi but even Samuel Beaufoy thanked Vikas Swarup (author of "Q&A", the book on which Slumdog Millionaire was based) while receiving his Oscar, even though the book and the movie had noticeable differences.

Hail the REAL 3 Idiots - Aamir Khan, Vidhu Vinod Chopra and Rajkumar Hirani!

(Do read this article by Lada Guruden Singh on the same controversy at the India Today website. Its a must read!)

I Don't Want To Steal!

2010-01-02T18:59:00.006+05:30

Any post without a photo seems boring to me, so I always add one to brighten up things. But I just realized that I cant keep doing that without crediting the source, can I? So henceforth, all photos that are put up will have the Image Source mentioned underneath, but I am sincerely sorry for not being able to do that for all previous photos as I simply dont remember where I picked them up from. Lesson learnt.

Getting Featured On An Indian's Makeup Musings

2010-01-02T15:42:00.014+05:30

Image by KatherineKenny via Flickr

Well this happened a looong time back, but I wrote a guest post describing my dewy makeup routine for one of my favourite beauty blogs - An Indian's Makeup Musings on 16th July 2009. Forgetful me! (Go through my blogroll and you will know what a HUGE cosmetics addict I am!) To read my guest post, go here.

I am really indebted to Indian Girl for this honour! You have inspired me to share whatever little knowledge I have of cosmetics with others. I hope to do more of it in future!

Also, Rati from Indian Makeup and Beauty Blog has proposed something along similar lines so I hope not to disappoint her! Visit her blog to know more about the Indian beauty scene (about which very little is known online!).

I truly love the concept of guest posts. Though I have experienced it only once so far, I wish to do it more often and perhaps in future, my own blog will get to see some action from others! For that you will have to wait and watch!

So come on people, be open, connect and add some spice to your blog!

EDIT (18th March 2010) - My dewy makeup routine has changed significantly. Shall update soon on my upcoming beauty blog, Daily Delhi Beauty.

Anti-Ageing?

2010-01-01T20:42:00.010+05:30

Image by Pink Sherbet via Flickr

I am no longer "A 19 year old girl from New Delhi!"

I am "A 20 year old girl from DELHI!" (It happened on the first day of the last month of last year!)

P.S. -I have a phobia. I am scared I'll become all wrinkly too soon because of my horribly dry skin! Plus they say ageing begins right from the twenties! HELP!

Self Critique

2009-12-25T10:22:00.004+05:30

How do some people manage to write the way they do? I look at people around me and realize that I will probably never be able to write as articulately as they do. I am a girl of horribly simplistic thoughts and equally simplistic writing. Maybe this stems from my overall personality; I call a spade a spade. In school too, I was the one who could speak well and write well, but never was I the one who could string together eloquent sentences or delicate poetry. It is for this same reason that I rate myself an average writer. No, I am not looking for compliments here, just admitting the truth! It takes a genius to write well, to make the whole world listen. Oh, and its not only writing I am talking about here! Those geniuses out there who spin their yarns, its so difficult for me to understand what they mean! They really make me question my intelligence. I am having my Homer Simpson moment now. Doh!

Appropriate Dressing

2009-12-14T21:07:00.005+05:30

So the wedding season was/is in full swing. People dress up, wear glittery clothes and even more glittery jewellery. Basically the works. But what's up with the youngsters yaaaar!!? Either they don the whole garb and look over the top or come dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt! I am an absolute sucker for appropriate dressing and this is one thing that annoys the life out of me. All the weddings or related functions that I have been to this season have disappointed me in terms of dressing. Grow up guys!

Hyperventilating Insects!

2009-11-19T19:24:00.008+05:30

"So, how was your Science Olympiad today?"

"Oh, it was soo easy Ma'am! Here, take a look at the question paper.."

"Hmm, so what option did you choose for this question.. Which of the following dissolves in water - a) oil b) salt c) insect d) paper.."

"SALT!"

(So I decided to engage in some leg pulling...)

"Oh, but don't you know, insects dissolve in water much quicker!"

"No Ma'am! If you put an insect in water uski bus saans phool jaegi.."

Gone For No Reason!

2009-11-07T20:49:00.004+05:30

Argh! I have been away for a long time! No particular reason. I just have these phases. One has me logged in 24/7 while the other keeps me as away from the net as possible. Weird because I missed this whole blogging thing each and every day. So much has happened over the past few days. In fact, I would make up blog entries in my head all along but would never move my butt to type them down and publish them.

Well, I am back!

Nose Bejewelled

2009-08-27T21:09:00.006+05:30

I was barely a year old when my mother got my ears pierced. She says "I took you out of sheer excitement." Perhaps she was scared that I would refuse to let someone drill holes in my ears later. Perhaps she did not want me to remember the pain.

Nineteen years later, a few days back to be precise, I got my nose pierced. Let me tell you, I was ready much earlier, but a certain friend scared the living daylights out of me by talking about "unbearable pain" and the "excruciating recovery period". I put off the idea until it completely slipped out of my mind, but it all came back when I saw a dear friend's nostril. On it perched a beautiful white stone, catching the light and glinting pompously. "If she can go through the pain, I sure hell can!", I said to myself.

So off I went to the piercer, with dear friend and three of her friends in tow (all with pierced noses). The five of us trooped into the pretty silver shop. What do you think I saw? A lady bending over a girl about my age, about to pierce her nose. Let me tell you, it looked as easy as eating cornflakes. The girl happily got up, paid and left. "Darn", I said to myself, "that looked pretty neat!". You can safely say that about that time, all my fears left me.

"Choose a pin for me, I'm confused."

"How 'bout this one?"

"Yeah that looks cool. Y'think it'll suit me?"

"I think it'll look especially good on you!"

"Ok but have a look at the others as well."

"Hmm how 'bout this? Or this? And look at this one!"

"No, no. And absolutely no to that!!"

"Well I think you should go with our first choice then.."

To tell you the truth, it didnt hurt one bit, big thanks to the piercer's expertise! She pushed in the pin in a split second and by the time I knew it, I had a beautiful stone glinting pompously on my nostril too.

CHILDREN, THESE DAYS!

2009-08-06T20:40:00.005+05:30

So there I was, interacting with a bunch of nine year olds, trying to get them to speak effortlessly in english.

"Lets divide the class into two groups - girls and boys", I said.

"Sure!"

"Tell me boys, how do we brush our teeth? Tell me the whole procedure, step by step."

"We take a toothbrush, wet it, apply toothpaste on it, clean our teeth and tongue, rinse our mouths, rinse the brush. Done!"

"Very good! 10 points!"

"Yay!"

"Ok, now girls. Tell me, how do you get ready in the morning?"

"We get up, take bath, brush our teeth, polish our shoes, wear the uniform, eat breakfast and leave home to come to school."

"Very good! 10 points to you too!"

"Yay!"

"Ok, now I wont ask any more questions. Ask each other. Girls, ask the boys a question."

"Yay! Hmmm. How do you switch on the computer?"

"We switch on the UPS, then the CPU, then we wait for the screen to switch on, enter the password, then wait for the desktop to appear."

"Excellent boys! 10 points again! Now why dont you boys ask the girls a question?"

"Woohoo!" *whispering* "How do girls take bath????"

"No!! No!! Ask another question!!"

*more whispering* *sniggering* "How is a baby born????"

........

CHILDREN, THESE DAYS!

A Friendship Day Note On Facebook

2009-08-03T01:20:00.007+05:30

This is a note I wrote in Facebook for all those who know me. I thought it would be nice to share it with you guys as well. :)

i wish i could tag more people. but its limited, so please, this is for ALL my friends.

i am in a horribly nostalgic mood. i miss so many people who today are no longer there in my life.

if i have hurt anyone of you, intentionally or unintentionally, i apologize wholeheartedly. there isnt a meaner person out there.

cheers to those who came for the shortest time possible, but made a place in my heart forever.

cheers to those who stuck by me, who lifted my spirits day in and day out, who made me feel loved and wanted.

cheers to those who dropped their work to see me, to make sure i was alright. to tell me when i was too rude, too mean, too hurtful, or simply too boring.

cheers to those who didnt mind paying an awfully hefty phone bill, just to make sure i did not feel alone.

cheers to those who heard me while i cried my eyes out.. or laughed my guts out.. cheers to those who saw my bad side, yet stuck around.

cheers to those who know me more than i will probably ever know myself.

cheers to those whom i have never met. you have a special place in my heart.

cheers to friends from a long, long time ago. we might not talk, might not even know where we are, but cheers to you too.

cheers to those who hurt me, cursed me, broke me.

pushed me, shoved me, provoked me.

who smiled while i didnt.

who laughed when i couldnt.

cheers to my dear buddies, robo and sandra. i miss you so, so, so much..

and finally, cheers to YOU. my soulmate. my best friend. i love you.

A very HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY to you too, dear readers. :)

Dog Show

2009-07-21T23:15:00.008+05:30

Hrumph!

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

Pet-ty Issue

2009-07-18T21:59:00.010+05:30

So I have pets. Not dogs, not cats, not hamsters, but squirrels. They are right there on my bathroom window and I just let them be. I have even stuck two pencils on the window so that it doesnt shut because of the breeze.

You know the best part about having squirrels as pets? They are really low maintenance. NO maintenance, rather! All I have to do is look at them, see them look back at me, admire them, see them admire me... SERIOUSLY! They display themselves only for me. If anyone else enters the bathroom, they go away and refuse to come back until that person has left. Its so cute to see them lounging around, flat on the stomachs! On days the squirrels have a party, I see the family stuck against the net to accomodate guests. They have a gala time. The guests then leave and the family retreats into their humongous nest.

So today I have a picture story for you. Let us very creatively call it THE SQUIRREL STORY.

There once lived a family of three squirrels. Mama squirrel, Papa squirrel and Baby squirrel. Mama and Papa squirrel built a beautiful golden nest for Baby squirrel to grow up in. One day, the family was sitting outside their home, relaxing and enjoying the gentle breeze, when all of a sudden A Big Human entered their territory.

The family was startled by this sudden invasion.

They sprang up from their drowsiness and fled A Big Human.

But Baby squirrel was brave. He came back to see who had disrupted their peaceful squatting. Well, well! It was only their good friend Rima!

No problem! Rima wont hurt them! Baby squirrel happily went inside his spacious home and waited for Mama and Papa squirrel to come back.

A simple story, but this actually happened today morning. I have been trying to write about my pets since a long time, and there could not have been a better way to introduce them. I dont think we will ever keep dogs again, so these little fellas really give solace to my heart. Thank you dear squirrels.

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

YES!

2009-07-02T15:27:00.004+05:30

The Delhi High Court has legalized homosexuality. I feel like going out and dancing in the rain.

Am I An Egg?

2009-07-02T00:09:00.008+05:30

As a child, it was a task for me to make small talk with strangers. No, I wasnt shy. I could stare at people constantly and even make them lower their own gazes. I could share the same space with them without breaking into a sweat. The problem was talking. I just did not know what to say. If someone asked me questions, I would smile and/or grin and softly answer them. People would pat my cheeks and say stuff like "You shy girl!" or "See how she's blushing!" and then the very next moment I would run away.

I look at myself now and see the change. No, I am not your usual case of "shy-girl-becomes-crazy-overtalkative-extrovert". I am still very, very reserved in the first few meetings with strangers but I dont hesitate at all to make conversation. I am probably the first person to start talking and the last to finish. Whether I am journeying or waiting for a seminar to start, I always nudge the people around me to engage in some talking. If they dont seem interested, I drop it. Then again I am irritated by people who yak their heads off and dont realize that everyone around them wants to scream and run in the opposite direction.

Of course with close friends, its a different story. I am probably the one who fools around the most.

My psychology teacher once called me a "slow-to-warm-up" personality. As soon as she said that, I saw a huge egg in my mind. Yes, thats right. An egg. Go figure!

So what am I? Am I an extrovert? Am I that-what-induces-egg-images?

Michael Jackson - Rest In Peace

2009-06-26T12:19:00.007+05:30

I am too shocked and too pained by the news of Michael Jackson's death. I can only say that he will be greatly missed.

29 August 1958 - 25 June 2009

Who's Better?

2009-06-25T21:48:00.006+05:30

Inder and I both LOVE donkeys. So the other day while we were having a conversation..

Inder : You're so cute.

Me : Like a donkey?

Inder : Better.

Part 4 - High In The Sky

2009-06-25T15:21:00.015+05:30

Up above the sky so high, like some cotton in the sky!

Where Saudi ends. I LOVE the whole clicked-from-outer-space feel :)

I looked down and saw Dubai!

Palm Islands

What a feat!

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Part 3 - Living

2009-06-17T21:31:00.015+05:30

You cannot really judge a place by staying there for only two weeks, but I still have loads to say!

THOSE SPOILT KIDS!

I have heard all sorts of stories from papa regarding Saudi boys. Unfortunately, none of them are very pleasing. Since the past three years he has been steadily filling us in with innumerable incidents of kidnapping, delinquency and even rape in the Kingdom. The most repeatedly narrated story is how young boys gather around after their day at school is over, smoke a couple of cigarettes (a fairly common practice), then go racing down the roads in their Audis/BMWs/Mercedes. Now I know that papa has a habit of stretching the truth a bit, but how can I doubt him when there is a school right next to his building, and a window in his house that overlooks its main entrance?

Probably the most shocking story came from the neighbouring ladies who became quite pally with mummy. They told us about this one time they were standing outside the society, waiting to pick up their kids from the school bus, when a couple of Saudi boys standing nearby started throwing Sprite bottles at them. Yes, soft drink bottles. The glass ones.

Something that I personally experienced was in a mall. Not just any random mall, but one of the best in the city. Mummy and I were waiting in the ladies line at the McDonalds counter (yeah, the counter was actually divided into two with a huge board of ply - one side for males and the other for females) when a bunch of boys started throwing themselves at the board, knocking us over on the other side. I decided it was best to remain silent. However after a couple of seconds, they started rattling the whole board and simultaneously started hooting and calling out in Arabic. Whatever they said must have been pretty rude because the hapless cashier turned red and started looked really uncomfortable. The boys refused to quieten down, so after having enough, I went over to their side and stood with my hands on my hips. Out came the choicest expletives in every language I know. They fled. I know it was stupid to react like this, things could have gone out of hand, but I just couldnt stand it.

TidBit - In food courts, there is a separate sitting room for women, couples and families. Single men cannot enter that area.

OF MOSQUES AND PRAYING...

A neighbourhood mosque

I was roaming around in a mall one day when it suddenly got too cold for me. When I reached a little corner, I found the place I was looking for. The door was adorned with a gigantic female head.

At first sight she actually looked like a nun to me, but oh well. I opened the door and expected the usual (taps, sinks, commodes), but was surprised to find myself in a large hall. I thought I had entered the wrong place when I saw a long corridoor on one side of the hall. At the end I could see those little cubicles. Well atleast I was in the right place. But then came the uncomfortable part. There were about twenty women in the hall, all facing a wall and praying. I broke into a sweat, only because I didnt know what to do. Would it be appropriate for me to simply walk ahead, do my business and leave? Somehow the thought of flushing while twenty women prayed did not appeal to me. But what could I do? I had already waited long enough. I slowly walked ahead, my eyes shifting like Homer Simpsons'. I expected to be thrashed soundly while exitting, but thankfully, nothing happened.

Now I know this is pretty surprising for all of you, but its the truth! Every toilet door in that particular mall (I dont know about the others) had "Toilets and Mosque" written on it. Scandalous. I pondered for days together as to how a place of worship could be physically so close to a place which is universally considered to be impure and dirty. Well I finally got my answer while reading 'Does My Head Look Big In This?' by Randa Abdel-Fattah. A Muslim is supposed to perform 'wuduh' (washing and cleaning of hands, feet etc) before every 'salat' (prayer, which is performed five times in a day). Hence the proximity.

Oh, and while we're at it, let me tell you a particularly interesting moment from the book. When Amal, the protagonist of the story, is washing her feet in the school sink, Tia-the-bitch walks in. What follows is an intense verbal duel, but full points to Amal for her repartee, "I wash my feet five times a day. So that means that at any given time of the day, my feet are cleaner than your face." Touché!

For me, the most frustrating moments were when the shops closed down during prayer time (its compulsory). A few minutes before the actual prayer time, an announcement is made through the loudspeakers, requesting everyone to immediately pay and leave. Being in a mall was still tolerable, because atleast we were allowed to sit in the common area. The real pain was being in one of those single shops. We would be forced to get out and stand in the burning heat. It would get really awkward for us because standing in streets where you dont see anyone at all, at any given point of time, is scary.

Ooh. Another funny story. Mummy and I were grocery-shopping when all of a sudden these intimidating , uniformed men came and started shouting at us in Arabic. I looked here and there and saw that all the people around us had suddenly vanished! I was nearly in tears, thinking that I was going to get arrested, when one of the men started screaming "Salat! Salat!". OH! We ran out.

TidBit - The airport has its own mosque!

This is it, the airport mosque

WHAT TO WEAR?

Well this actually deserves to be right at the top, but oh well. Sad that women cant display their pretty clothes in public, because they have to be in their 'abaya' at all times. What is an 'abaya'? Well the black cloak worn over the body, covering the arms, legs and tordo is called an 'abaya'. Foreign women have to wear it as well. The native women have to even cover their head (with a 'hijab') and face (with a 'niqab'). As far as men are concerned, I dont think they have any restrictions. Although most of the natives I saw wore their traditional white robes with the white and red chequered cloth on their heads (sorry I dont know what all that is called, you can Google it if you're interested), I also saw others who wore clothes like trousers and shirts. So I guess it isnt compulsory for them. (In fact, I saw scores of foreigners wearing sleeveless tops and the shortest shorts without generating stares from anyone, so they dont have any dress code either!) Its sad that while the men get to lounge about in their cool white robes, the women sweat it out in jet blackness!

Waiting for hubbies to pick them up

Taxi!

Anyway, I was really mesmerised by the beautiful display of womens clothes in the stores. Clothes that can make the biggest fashionista of the world hang her head in shame. From plunging necklines to no necklines at all to skyscraper heels and tiny thongs, I was floored. There was this one outlet where an entire wall was devoted to the highest quality fashion jewellery in all colours imaginable. Naturally, mummy and I went crazy and came out with bagfuls of chains, bracelets and whatnot. Women have a tendency to do that many times and with me, it happens quite often!

STREETS, BUILDINGS, MALLS...

Kingdom Tower, the tallest building, from our window

Kingdom Tower by night

Prettier at night

The Ministry of Interior or Defence Ministry, like a diamond

Al Faisaliyah Tower by day. The golden sphere is a restaurant!

Al Faisaliyah tower by night

Sorry for the blured images, but they were all clicked from a moving car

As I mentioned earlier, its goddamn hot in Riyadh in the summers and because of this very reason the streets of the city appear ghostlike most of the times. The only street activity I witnessed was i) people roaming about around the park area ii) people sitting outside shops, waiting for them to reopen after prayer time. The city by itself looks kinda neat during the day, but its during night that its in full bloom. The centre has many tall and impressive buildings while the rest of the city has pretty simple residences, sprinkled with beautiful mosques of course. The malls cant get any bigger. My legs actually ached after all that walking.

A random street

Date palms!

We were out one night, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city centre when we came across a medical complex not unlike AIIMS, only larger. We drove on and on and got fed up because the place just refused to end!

The best bookstore ever! It was HUGE! I guess you can make out from this pic. I got loads of books at disount prices, not to mention several paintbrushes. There were many raunchy books on the shelves, so I guess they arent prudes after all!

Anyway, the desert mausam of Riyadh doesnt give much scope for greenery. However, the effort put in to make the city look as green as possible is commendable. Every single road is lined with date palms and there are certain spots that are beautified with bright, colourful flowers as well. There was this beautiful fountain at a round-about which I didnt have the chance to photograph, that completely transformed the whole area into a lush, tropical paradise. Missed it!

I love this one

Oh dear, I am so tired after writing all this! I have basically told you EVERYTHING I could without boring you with the unnecessary details! There are still some things that must be shared with you guys, but I'll reserve it for the next post. Wait for it!

Coming up next -

The little things I missed, Flying in the sky

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Part 2 - Airport, to and fro

2009-06-11T20:42:00.009+05:30

King Khaled International Airport is small but beautiful. Why dont we have airports here in India that grandly display our rich architectural background? See and enjoy.

Multi storey?

That's just how it is

The sound of the falling water was bliss.. Like waves crashing against the shore

This pic might seem insignificant, but I love planes!

Airport Mosque

Royal Terminal

For Kings and VVIPs only

When Obama came visiting. The Saudis seem to love him.

Coming up next -

Life in Riyadh

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Part 1 - Landing

2009-06-07T23:53:00.012+05:30

We arrived at King Khaled International Airport, Riyadh, with fluttering hearts. Unlike other places, where you get to see the city landscape as you land, Riyadh has little to offer. There is the unending desert stamped with gigantic circles. What are they? I was later told they are soils of freshly harvested crops. Circular crops? I still dont understand. Then there are the unending roads as well. They just disappear into the distance and seem to go on forever. But what a pleasant change from the usual.

Circles

Roads

Desert

As soon as the plane landed, I saw papa from the window. There he was in full Turbanator mode. The door opened and he popped inside. A quick hug later, he grabbed our bags and galloped in the opposide direction. Thats how it always happens. He is otherwise the laziest sloth on earth, but as soon as the turban is on his head, he zooms around like the roadrunner. As we sped after him, I turned my head in every direction to absorb all the scenes. There was not a woman in sight. Even in the plane, there was just one lady with her two little children. The men all swarmed like bees towards the Immigration counter and papa quickened his pace. We literally ran our way through it.

We lone women!

After the necessary formalities were done, we seated ourselves near the exit. It was a large area with those connected chairs to sit on. Papa had gone back inside to attend to the very plane that had brought us. It was then that I got the first taste of being in Saudi Arabia. A couple of men, all Indian, were also sitting besides us. After sometime, a Saudi airport security man came and started yelling his head off at them. He came closer, swinging his baton in the air. I was shit scared. Here we were, not even a couple of minutes in a foreign country, and already in trouble. To my relief, the Indian men got up and went away and the Saudi went away too and sat down at his desk. It was then that I noticed a small sign plastered over the seating area, "Women and Family only".

The waiting area. See the classic architecture.

Then I saw another sign, "No Smoking". Smoking is something that most religions look down upon. But there they were, the Saudis, puffing away to glory. Not one baton swung in that direction.

Coming up next -

The beauty of their Airport

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Off To Arabia!

2009-05-18T08:09:00.005+05:30

Where are you off to?

Riyadh!

And why's that?

To visit my dad who's posted there.

So... What are you expecting from this trip?

I am going with many preconceived notions. I hope I am surprised!

Looking forward to..?

Seeing how it feels to wear a burqa (its compulsory), bookshops (what do they write and read about?), their gigantic malls! (I wanted to add "those pretty ladies", but I dont think their faces will be very visible)

NOT looking forward to..?

The May desert heat, no driving (women arent allowed to drive, not even a little bit)

When will you be back?

Dont know! But I guess somewhere in the first week of June, because we have a wedding to attend. I hope I get time to use the net and read/publish your comments!

See you!

The New Blog-Head

2009-05-09T21:12:00.009+05:30

I have changed the blog-head. The earlier one was drawn by me on Paint, but the new one has been taken from this photo clicked by Inder. Thanks Inder! I hope you people like it. Oh, I have also changed the font colours.

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

West Delhi Plus

2009-05-09T10:32:00.010+05:30

West Delhi Plus is a weekly supplement that we get along with Times of India. In honour of Mother's Day today, it invited readers to send in tributes to their mothers and tell the world what makes their relationship so special.

I quickly typed in a few sentences..

If I ever had to make a list of those who know me inside out, my mother's name would feature first. No thought, emotion or expression of mine if hidden from her. I do it not because its a compulsion, but because its truly such a joy.

Perhaps the best part about my mother would be her calm mind. I thank my stars for blessing me with someone who does not scream at the drop of a hat. She has given me the liberty to lead life by my own terms and does not question my decisions.

It would be such a cliche to say "my mother faced many hardships in life" - because who doesnt? What matters is whether you are able to emerge victorious. Today, my mother stands tall. I have learnt to live life through her successes as well as her mistakes.

Mummy, youre a treat.

And attached this photo..

I was sleeping soundly today morning when my brother ran in, "Youre in the newspaper! Youre in the newspaper!"

It was published!

(of course it was edited a bit)

Something New, Something Old

2009-05-05T15:49:00.008+05:30

I got my first salary today.

:) Is this how I feel?

:D Or this?

There isnt anything better, so I would rather be :DDDDDDDDDD

After all, it isnt about the money (not yet!), but more about being told by the world "YES! You're worth something out here."

I havent really figured out what I'll do with the money. But the local gurudwara is surely going to see a rare visitor today. Why? I dont bother going there. Never ever. But today, the place just calls out to me. Plus my Badimummy (nani) is here, so she would have forced me to go there anyway.

I was out yesterday evening at the local market.

"Lakme ka naya collection aya?"

"Abhi nahi madam"

Grr. I could really do with some brand new makeup. Like Sophie Kinsella says in her novel, 'The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic' -

"As I walk into Smith's I feel my whole body expand in relief. There's a thrill about walking into a shop - any shop - which you can't beat. It's partly the anticipation, partly the buzzy, welcoming atmosphere, partly just the lovely newness of everything. Shiny new magazines, shiny new pencils, shiny new protractors. Not that I've needed a protractor since I was eleven - but don't they look nice, all clean and unscratched in their packets?"

Not that I am comparing myself to Rebecca Bloomwood, the rambling Financial Journalist (and protagonist of the series) who cannot even manage her own money. But just the sight of a creamy lipgloss or powdery blusher or shimmering nailpolish makes me go weak in the knees.

I roamed around a bit more. With no luck at the beauty supply store, I settled for the next best alternative - books. The local market doesnt have a bookstore, but there is plenty of choice as far as second-hand books are concerned. A few years ago, I would have turned up my nose at the sight of used books. But with age, stupidity gives way to humility.

My eyes feasted on the withered covers and crumbling pages. Every book seemed to have a story to tell. I picked up one without realising what it was and dropped it immediately. "What to Expect when you're Expecting".

"Wo chahye kya madam?"

Suddenly a handsome young man came and stood next to me. What features! I was actually taken aback by his presence. Such boys arent ever seen near dusty books. Anyway, I was there to look at books and not ogle at men and miss my beloved. I peeled my tired eyes and grabbed a paperback with a fawn coloured labrador pup embossed on the cover - "Marley and Me". I expected it to be yet another teach-your-dog-to-do-back-flips kind of a book. I flipped through.

"Life and Love with the World's Worst Dog"

"He's the only dog I've ever known to get expelled from obedience school."

"Marley quickly grew into an uncontrollable ninety-seven pound steamroller of a Labrador retriever... even the tranquillisers prescribed by the vet couldn't stop him."

Of course, I had to get this book.

Plus Freud's "Interpretation of Dreams". Dear Freud, if only you were alive today!

The Surprise - What's Keeping Me Busy

2009-04-30T18:15:00.005+05:30

Wow! My last post was wayyy back on 12th April! Thats probably the longest I have stayed away from blogging! But I wont say that I missed writing, because in the past one month I have written more than I would have normally written in an entire year. (I continue to have this dull pain in my right thumb.) But I certainly missed posting and hearing back from you precious people who care to read!

Saying that, I should have grabbed the laptop as soon as my exams got over and typed away. But as I mentioned earlier, I have a surprise for all of you! This very surprise has been keeping me busy apart from my exams. So you want to know what it is?

I got a JOB! (Let me give you a moment to laugh. Oh, you need more than that? :P)

Yes, yes, yes! I got a job! A real, paying job! The Dearest Lady who taught me German last year is off to Germany(!) for finishing off her thesis and I am her substitute in a school! Yay man! I am a teacher!!!!!

Ok, ok.. I know that I am just 19 years old and dont even go to regular college and I've just done the foundation course in German.. But whatever I know is more than enough for the little kiddies who are in class 2, 3, 4 and 5. And seriously people, I topped the bloody language last year! *gloats*

So there I was jumping away to glory in my salsa class. Suddenly, my phone shreiked out naseela naseela tere naina (I'm lame) and pierced through the loud music. I usually dont take calls while the class is on because it all breaks the rhythm. But that day, not only did I manage to hear the phone ring, but I also picked it up. By the end of that call, not only did I have a job as a German teacher, but also as the English Elocution teacher!

The school is in the heart of the city - Connaught Place. Its a small school that goes upto class VII, but thats the best part because I wouldnt have jumped into a HUGE school with thousands of children (they would have killed me). I work twice a week, teaching German to classes II, III, IV and V on Tuesdays and English Elocution to classes I-VII on Thursdays. This school has an uncanny resemblance to the first school I ever attended - Air India Modern, and thats what makes it all the more special. For a moment I actually thought that I was a little girl again with ribbons in my hair!

My dad cant stop raving about me. Well I cant either! My heart is swollen my pride. I take this as a message that teaching can be a worthy option for me. I used to line my friends up when I was really tiny and teach them some nonsense or the other. Then I advanced to teaching the maids english. My badepapa (dadaji/father's father) used to always call me "teacherji", because I would grab a ruler and make him sit down and learn poems. Then the Principal of my 11th/12th walla school noticed my patience with little children, and how they would always listen to me. She called me to her office one day and very seriously told me to give teaching a thought. All these incidents flit through my mind every time I enter a class.

Well, life couldnt have been better. The principal is apparently very happy with my work, and I am over the moon. The children are adorable. There are some who keep doing their own thing and refuse to listen, but most of them are all bright-eyed when I walk in. The very first day, a little girl from class 4 walked up to me and said that I resembled her Masi (Aunt). Then another girl came and told me the same thing. Then another.. By the end of it all, the whole class had Masis that look like me! Then last Tuesday, another girl came up and handed me over a flimsy heart-shaped thing that she had made with her lunch foil. It felt as if she had taken out her own heart and given it to me.

Whom do I thank for these wonderful moments? The Dearest Lady, the Principal for having faith in my inexperienced soul, the children, my parents, myself...? I cannot begin and cannot end to explain how grateful I am to all these people. This is perhaps a new beginning...

Rawr!

2009-04-12T21:13:00.005+05:30

*Lick* *Lick*

This cat disturbs my sleep almost every night with its Rawrs.

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

An Untimely Death

2009-04-11T20:45:00.006+05:30

I have written a couple of poems, but they are in CDs that refuse to be read by this laptop. I'll post them someday.

Right now lets focus on something that I wrote a couple of days back. Its my most spontaneous poem ever, written in a matter of five or so minutes. (Click here to know about the story behind it). I have decided to call it "An Untimely Death" (highly unoriginal).

An Untimely Death

I roam around the streets for you,

I dont know where you stay.

I see you here, I see you there,

but I dont know where you stay.

Haveli, theatre, stationery shop;

you passed by all these once.

Its my turn now, to trace your steps,

but I dont know where you stay.

I turn around to go back home,

with a vow to never forget.

I dont look here, I dont look there;

I do know where you stay..

No Time

2009-04-09T00:07:00.005+05:30

Its 12.05 am here. I am supposed to get up early and go to Connaught Place, but I dont have time. Its been ages since I painted my nails. Well, not ages. 6 days, to be exact. But thats a really long time. I want to cocoon myself, deep into the pinky-ness of my fluffy blanket. I want to be an infant again. I want to be hugged and cuddled. I want to wear pretty frocks and frilly socks. I want all that back again. When was the last time I sat back and relaxed? Truly relaxed? When was the last time I made an effort to dress up? That was 6 days ago too. Then why does it seem so far away? Have I lost all sense of time? What will happen when life truly tests me? Will I fail miserably, or rise high into the sky? I look at my bare nails and feel sad. Something is amiss. Something more important that not having any nailpolish on. I look at my hair. The ends split miserably. The old t-shirt that I am wearing has a small hole on the side. I badly need to sleep. I am the mother and I am the child. I have to stand up for myself, then take care of myself too.

I better go and grab that nailpolish.

I Made A Boo Boo

2009-04-05T00:30:00.005+05:30

I was happily relaxing. Studying at a lazy pace. Assuming (not without reason) that my exams will be in May. BANG. Got my admit card in the mail yesterday. Stupid exams start from 8th April! Nooo..!! I will surely fail. No blogging. Now I will just sit and slog for the next whole month. The only good thing is that the blasted exams will get over much sooner than I expected. Well well!

Another little surprise coming up. But I will reveal it in time. Probably after my exams get over on 28th April. Wish me luck guys, coz I really need it.

Random Thoughts - Police Exchange Programme

2009-04-01T17:52:00.005+05:30

We all hear of student exchange programmes happening around elite schools of the city. Students from all over the world experience life and education in India, and we Indians get to experience the same abroad. New classrooms and new people, new teaching methods! It must be a fabulous seeing and learning experience.

Now, I thought about these exchange programmes and pondered. Students go abroad, doctors go abroad, employees go abroad, even bloody politicans go abroad. But have you ever heard of policemen going abroad? Have you ever heard a cop say "Oh I just came back from an exchange programme in France" or something like that? The government can afford to send those good for nothing politicians on paid vacations and supposed "inspection trips" to every corner of this planet, but they cant send policemen to learn a thing or two from other cops around the world? Imagine a cop politely asking you for your license after he catches you overspeeding, or handing you a challan and then telling you to have a good day.

Conversations will certainly become more pleasant....

PRESENT

Hassled Boy : Sirji, my wallet has been stolen. I want to file an F.I.R.

Cop : Hmm.. Go and sit over there. I will call you.

(an hour later)

Hassled Boy : Sirji, please. I have been waiting for a long time.

Cop : Cant you see I am busy? Go. Go to that Madam.

Hassled Boy : Ma'am. Excuse me Ma'am. I want to lodge an F.I.R.

Madam : Kyu, kya hua re?

Hassled Boy : Wo wallet chori ho gya hai...

Madam : Dhyan se nahi rakh sakta tha kya?

Hassled Boy : Ma'am usme license tha. College I.D. Card tha. Please kuch karo.

Madam : Where did your wallet get stolen? Vahaan ke thane me hoga F.I.R.

Hassled Boy : Ma'am wo nahi pta. Isliye ghar ke local police station par aa gya. Aap F.I.R. likh lo. I have lost my license, but I have to ride my motorcycle, college jaane ke liye. Mujhe F.I.R. ki copy de do, please.

Madam : Phir to 500 lagenge.

Hassled Boy : Ma'am, student hu. Itne paise kahaan se lau.

Madam : Arrey, chal tere liye 200.

AFTER EXCHANGE PROGRAMME

Hassled Boy : Sirji, my wallet has been stolen. I want to file an F.I.R.

Cop : Go to Madam and give her all the details.

Hassled Boy : Ma'am. Excuse me Ma'am. I want to lodge an F.I.R.

Madam : Kya hua hai?

Hassled Boy : Wo wallet chori ho gya hai...

Madam : Kya kya tha usme?

Hassled Boy : Ma'am usme license tha. College I.D. Card tha. Thode paise the. Kareeb 300-400. Please kuch karo.

Madam : Kahaan hua chori?

Madam : Baitho, apna naam aur pata btao.

Hassled Boy : Saurabh Mathur, 839 Jeevan Apartments, Sector 9, Rohini.

Madam : Aur ghar ka phone nambar?

Hassled Boy : 25909209

Madam : Ye le F.I.R. ki copy. Bina tension ke motorcycle chala ab. Duplicate license ke liye bhi apply kar lena.

Oh, how we Indians crave for simple things in life!

Fellow Traffic

2009-03-18T12:50:00.006+05:30

Dabri

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

An Unsafe Drive Back Home

2009-03-17T21:31:00.006+05:30

Aaah. What a great day of shopping! Bliss. I am dying to get home and relax those poor feet. I'll make some of my stinky noodles and watch a cheesy Hindi film. More bliss.

Why did those two people on a bike just shout at me? Did I do anything wrong? I wasnt even near them. Ignore.

My favourite part of the drive! Flyover! Flyover! Now whats that? Who is this honking at me again and again? I am going at a pretty decent speed! *Checks rearview mirror* Oh no! Not the weirdass bikers again!

No! No! Just get lost and leave me alone! What a great day I had, dont ruin it with your sorry antics. Hey, quit getting so close to my car! You might dent it! It already bears a few signs of abuse. Oh for God's sake...

The honking is getting on my nerves now. Oh no! A traffic signal, and the light's red! The bikers have got me now! Ok.. Just ignore them and look straight ahead. Let me go and stand between those two huge SUVs. *Blearp* *Blearp* Shit. Let me re-check if my doors are locked..

The lights are green and I have taken a left turn. The fools are still tailgating. Hang on, here they come. They are right next to me now, hooting some incomprehensible stuff. This is getting scary. Oh shit! They are banging on my window! What if they manage to break it? Will they throw acid on my face? The way its shown in the papers? Will they take out a pistol and shoot me? I hope I survive this ordeal...

Conversations With An Angel

2009-03-14T21:24:00.007+05:30

"Come home. We will all celebrate Holi together."

"No."

"But everything is arranged. Colours, pichkaris.."

"You arent even in the condition to walk. How will you play?"

"Just come, please.."

***

"I forced myself to come."

"You're a sweetheart.. How can I ever repay you?"

"By giving me strength. The strength to face things. The way you do."

"I barely have any left."

***

"You have a beautiful heart.. The most beautiful I have ever seen.."

"What makes you say that?"

"She comes to you and talks in that patronising way, says unforgivable things. You smile and do nothing."

"She's just a kid."

"Kid? She's almost as old as me. Have I ever spoken to you in that tone?"

"Never. But even if you do, I wont say a thing."

"Stop being an angel.."

"Right now, I have no other choice."

***

"You amaze me."

"Because I look so weird? Haha."

"No! Because you arent human. Angel."

"Let me be a human for some more time!"

"Stop talking like that.."

"Both of us know the truth. Why hide from it?"

***

Leukemia ate him up. Three months later, he was no more.

Delicious Feedback

2009-03-12T12:09:00.006+05:30

Ronnie : Your noodles smell like my armpits.

A Stale Blog!

2009-03-12T11:46:00.007+05:30

Finally I get some negative criticism for my blog! Someone called it stale! I wish it was a comment, so I could put it up for everyone to see. But sadly, it was a reply to my comment on someone elses blog, and now I dont remember its whereabouts.

I actually smiled after reading it. I hope he finds my blog more interesting in the future. Or even if he doesnt, I am sure there are others out there that wont disappoint them.

I take this in my stride and vow to write better.

Holi Hai!

2009-03-11T21:11:00.006+05:30

First of all, a very Happy Holi to all of you! (I know it comes a bit late :P)

I fiercely oppose synthetic colours. Never did I find those hugely bright pinks and greens attractive. But sadly they have become the norm. When I was in school, we were always encouraged to buy herbal colours. Now that I think of it, school also helped me reach the decision of not bursting crackers during Diwali.

But whats the benefit of buying these herbal colours when most of the people use those syntheticy ones on me? Those shiny, sparkly powders with tubelights and whatnot mixed in them. A morning well spent on playing with the society people has resulted in rashes on my face and patches of colours that refuse to budge. :( I think I will have to be a little strict in future and roam around with a packet of my own colour, telling people to use only that, or nothing at all.

The celebration summed up in the best possible manner. A saintly south-Indian neighbour came up to me and dabbed a dot of sandalwood paste on my forehead.

Some colours refuse to budge

Family at war

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Queen's Baton Relay - Commonweath Games 2010

2009-03-09T23:47:00.012+05:30

(Please click on the photos to get the best view)

I am not much of a sports fan, but the Commonwealth Games have me excited. After all, India is hosting them next year!

Now on 8th March, just two days ago, the Queen's Baton was unveiled. Now what on earth is that, you ask? Well I did not know either. But since it was so heavily advertised in the newspapers, I did a quick search.

The Queen's Baton is similar to the Olympic Torch. Its journey starts from Buckingham Palace, after which it travels around the Commonwealth. After reaching the host country, the Games are officially declared open by the Head of the Commonwealth, currently Queen Elizabeth II.

Naturally, I could not bear to miss such a historic moment. I pleaded in front of mom. Begged her to accompany me. She relented surprisingly soon!

We reached India Gate at about 7.30 in the evening. There were hundreds upon hundreds of people walking along with us. My heart began to flutter.

As we got closer, the importance of the whole ceremony hit us. We did not expect it to be so huge. The seats were filled, and there were thousands more standing. Alas, I was going to be one of them!

Queen's Baton Relay

I raised my head and saw the stage and the lights. Shera, the hugely inflated mascot, bounced near the giant arch. A huge ramp was built especially for the media persons. Lucky chaps. I cursed my 5 feet small frame.

The Shera float

The show progressed into a depiction of India at its best. But the highlight of the show was the ethereal performance by the Flying Angels. I cannot truly express it in words. These UK artistes were lifted high in the air with the help of a giant crane. They mesmerised the whole crowd with their heavenly and graceful moves. A spectacular display of fireworks in the background made it a truly magical view.

They're really flying!

Angels

Play of light

A golden nest

Psychedelic

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

To Anu, With Love

2009-03-08T16:39:00.008+05:30

It sits there on my shelf!

So this was the special post. :)

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Not Many Bloggers

2009-02-26T13:57:00.004+05:30

I read in the papers a few days back that there are only fifty thousand active bloggers in India. It feels great to be one of them. :)

Three Mistakes Of My... Day

2009-02-23T20:03:00.005+05:30

Mummy : So for how many hours will you have your aerobics classes?

Rima : They are from 5pm-6pm. Dont know for how many hours, though.

Asmita - I needed to pay back your 300 bucks. You have change for 1000?

Rima - No, I only have 300 bucks.

Rima - What's the colour of that gar..??

Asmita - Gar..?!?!?!?

Rima - Gar..?? I meant to say signal.

SONY And A Signal

2009-02-21T19:54:00.011+05:30

I finally got my digital camera! Man I am super excited! It happened about two weeks back. I was dying to get one since a very very long time, so as soon as my dad landed here in Delhi, I dragged him to the nearest Sony showroom. (The model is W210 and cost me close to 13k rupees. That's a pretty decent price for a 12.1 megapixel resolution, 4x optical zoom and 2 GB memory card! For more information, click here. I got the one in black.)

I clicked this pic when I was waiting at the infamous Dabri crossing. Nothing special, but since I love trees and I love silhouettes, I passed a few seconds of my boring wait peacefully.

The driver kept honking even though the signal was red.

(Dabri)

Interesting criss-cross of lines.

(Opposite Godhuli Old Age Home, Dwarka)

Atleast she's drinking DJB water.

(Opposite Godhuli Old Age Home, Dwarka)

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Back Again!

2009-02-17T12:41:00.007+05:30

I am back! Only because I did not go anywhere! Dad popped in the day I had to leave, so no vacations! But the last few days have been going on great (not to mention busy) and now I finally have the time to resume my blogging. How I missed it! Not writing about myself and not reading about others felt weird! Having a dad around the house sure busies up the schedule! (Thats only because he's so lazy himself :P)

Bye Bye Folks...

2009-02-01T20:24:00.005+05:30

With a heavy heart I am announcing the closure of this blog. It was great knowing all of you. I used to look forward to your comments, and enjoyed reading your blogs at the same time. The reason for letting go of this beautiful world of blogging is personal. All I want to say is that I will miss you people immensely. Ok now this is too much... I cant hold it in any longer... I'll be back in a month. Just going to my grandmother's place. No internet there. :D

I'll miss you people.

Dogs In Their "Nests"

2009-01-30T15:42:00.009+05:30

I love clicking photographs with my Nokia N73 mobile. I admit its not the greatest camera, but at the moment it is all I have. I will start by posting my old photographs. Inspired by Mayank Austen Soofi to take this step.

Ok now. The photographs below were clicked by me on January 2008 (last year) at Janakpuri District Centre. That's a pretty chilly time here in Delhi.

Now I dont know how the straw reached there, because its highly improbable that the dogs collected it and made nests for themselves, but see how they have perched on the wall!

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

EDIT : Inder tells me that the yellow stuff is not straw, as I said earlier, but plants that just died.

Beauty Lesson (Soothing The Redness Of Pimples)

2009-01-28T23:38:00.009+05:30

I was getting ready to go out when I saw this itsy-bitsy spot on my forehead with the redness of a smacked baby's bottom. Oh my God! A baby pimple! I had to get rid of it. FAST! I didnt know what to do. The only thing that I was seeing in front of my eyes was the jar of multani mitti (fuller's earth) that I had used day before. I made a very watery paste by adding rose water (I wanted this to be quick) and lightly applied it on my face. The pack dried in no time and I promptly washed it off with cold water. Voila! The baby pimple was visibly reduced! Its been more than six hours since that quick treatment now, and my forehead is smooth as ever!

I guess I am becoming a multani mitti addict! :)

If I experience any other benefits, I will post them here.

Beauty Gone Wrong! - 2 (Ugly Eyebrows)

2009-01-28T13:16:00.011+05:30

I am fed to my teeth with the garbage beauty parlours around my house that cant even shape an eyebrow properly. I went there today just to get that job done. Not much to ask is it? But NO. The lady just had to ruin the gentle arch of my brow and reduce it to a flat line.

Totally inappropriate pic. But I could think of no one else except The Rock when I wrote this.

I Am With You!

2009-01-26T19:33:00.005+05:30

For all homosexuals, you find a supporter in me!

Beauty Gone Wrong! - 1 (After-Effects Of Haldi/Turmeric)

2009-01-26T18:54:00.009+05:30

I was admiring my dressing table and all its contents today when I came across a jar of multani mitti (fuller's earth). My mother purchased it many months ago for some strange reason. I was just sitting around doing nothing, so I decided to make myself a face pack. Now let me tell you, I am not someone who slathers on strange stuff on her face. Because of this, I was absolutely clueless about the preparation of the mixture. I consulted my mother and she told me to take a small spoon of multani mitti, a pinch of haldi (turmeric) and a little rose water. The colour of the paste looked yellowish-mustardish. I painted it on my face using a large brush, then waited somewhat impatiently for it to dry.

Oh my God!!! What has happened to my face??? I've washed it and scrubbed it, but my skin just refuses to get rid of this yellow tinge!!! I also smell like my mother's spice box. I feel like a highly aromatic smiley.

90 Seconds No-Fuss MUG CAKE

2009-01-24T21:27:00.011+05:30

I was craving for something sweet today, so I decided to make my 90 seconds no-fuss MUG CAKE (to be made in the microwave). I take no credit for making this recipe, but since I like it so much, let me show it to you nonetheless. Be warned that this is the simplest cake that can ever be made, so dont expect something fancy looking. Though I can guarantee that it will taste good.

INGREDIENTS: (Serves one)

1 egg

4 tbsp powdered sugar

4 tbsp plain flour (maida)

3 tbsp milk

3 tbsp refined oil

2 tbsp cocoa powder

2 tbsp chocolate powder (if you dont have chocolate powder, you can add 2 more spoons of powdered sugar instead)

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

For the cooking-knowledge-impaired:

1. Tbsp = tablespoon (the large spoon used for eating. NOT a serving spoon)

2. Teaspoon = smaller than a tablespoon

3. Either buy sugar that is already in powdered form, or grind the sugar at home in a food processor. DONT use granulated sugar as it will get burnt.

PROCEDURE : (I feel like I am writing a science experiment!)

1. Take a bowl and mix the above ingredients until a smooth batter is made.

2. Pour into a mug and microwave on high for 90 seconds.

3. Leave aside for a minute or two, so that the cake sets a bit. If you eat it right away, it may appear a little slimy.

Sorry for the blurred photographs. My phone does not capture well in low light and flashes miserably.

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

My Dreams And Their Analysis (Entertainment Purposes Only)

2009-01-24T14:53:00.013+05:30

We all have dreams. Those mystical sounds and images that play inside our head while we are asleep. I dream about something or the other almost every night, and also happen to remember most of them in the morning. By the end of the day though, they get fainter in my mind and harder to remember. There was a time until a few months ago, when I would jot down all my vivid dreams in a little diary.

Now, this whole dream thing is pretty vague. Does anyone really know why we have them? Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, called dreams the "royal road to the unconscious". According to him, what we dream is directly a result of our repressed thoughts, desires and memories. Assuming that to be true, let me try and decipher a few of my recurring dreams. Perhaps my brain is trying to tell me something? (Each dream is followed by a general analysis by this website.) I repeat that this is all for Entertainment Purposes Only.

Recurring Dream 1 (Childhood)

Theme : Running away from someone

Time in dream : Midnight

Location in dream : Road

Content of dream : I am running along a twenty feet wide road. No streetlights. No vehicle, human or animal in sight. The road is flanked by huge trees on either side. It is pitch dark, so I can only make out their silhouette against the faint moonlight, and the rustle of their leaves against the gentle breeze. I can hear myself breathing heavily, but I am not tired. I run steadily for quite some time until I hear another set of steps running behind me. I panic, sensing that someone is following me. Without even looking back to see who it is, I quicken my pace. The person behind me quickens too. My heart thumps louder. As I run, I look at either side of the road in the hope of spotting a house and hiding there. Suddenly, a large and black iron gate emerges from the darkness on the left. A white bungalow sits behind it. A single naked bulb hangs near the main door, casting its yellow light. I look ahead and keep running.

State of mind in the dream : Calm at first, then scared.

Reference to real life : I am not a runner. I am scared of darkness. The exposure of my back to unknown locations scares me. The road, in real life, is one that passes by my grandmother's colony. I love that place and have many happy memories of taking long walks with my grandmother and mother over there, enjoying the height of the trees and the fresh air.

General Analysis : "To dream that you are running away from someone, indicates an issue that you are trying to avoid. You are not taking or accepting responsibility for your action. In particular, if you are running from an attacker or any danger, then it suggests that you are not facing and confronting your fears."

Recurring Dream 2 (Present Life)

Theme : Falling/decaying teeth

Time in dream : Daytime

Location in dream : Stairs or bathroom

Content of dream :

Version 1 - I am happily climbing down stairs when I suddenly skip a step and fall flat on my face. The jaw breaks and my teeth get crushed. My mouth begins to fill with blood. I roll around my tongue inside my mouth and feel bits and pieces of teeth that have broken.

Version 2 - I am inside the bathroom, about to brush my teeth. I roll around my tongue inside my mouth and sense a loose tooth. I open my mouth wide and look into the mirror. My teeth are rotting, infested with plaque and chipping away.

State of mind in the dream : Panicky

Reference to real life : Till about class 3, I would rarely brush my teeth. Two milk teeth at the back of my mouth had huge holes in them. Around the same time, a friend's front tooth caught my eye. It was chipped like this:

When I asked her about it, she told me that she hit her head on a door while playing with her sister. As a result, her tooth chipped off. Now whenever I am climbing down stairs or about to fall down/get hurt, I feel like all my teeth will fall out.

General Analysis : "To dream that you have rotting or decaying teeth, forewarns that your health and/or business is in jeopardy. You may have uttered some false or foul words and those words are coming back to haunt you." "...Dreams that your teeth are falling out are the most common dreams we here... recieve." "...One theory is that dreams about your teeth reflect your anxiety about your appearance and how others percieve you..." "...Another rationalization for these falling teeth dream may be rooten in your fear of being embarrassed or making a fool of yourself in some specific situation..." "...Teeth are used to bite, tear, chew and gnaw. In this regard, teeth represent power. And the loss of teeth in your dream may be from a sense of powerlessness..."

Sleeping Beauty

2009-01-23T17:12:00.006+05:30

I went for a walk with my mom yesterday and chanced upon this little buddy. Dont worry, he's not dead!

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

Obama-ed!

2009-01-22T19:37:00.005+05:30

With the popularity of Obama growing, I saw many people writing about him in their blogs. Frankly, I never thought I would be doing the same. But I have been bitten by the bug too! Here's something I came across when browsing through someone's blog. Give it a try. Its worth the five or so minutes!

THE ORIGINAL

CROSSWORD Rajouri - A Major Disappointment

2009-01-21T22:08:00.007+05:30

I recently visited CROSSWORD bookshop at Rajouri. You cant even call it a shop actually. Its this open-from-three-sides-but-still-in-a-mall kind of place. I was mighty excited to be there because I was surrounded by fresh, new books after a very long time. I started with the first shelf that came my way, and got put off a little. Mindless, senseless books with bright yellow stickers, screaming "40% off", "70% off"... Where are the books that actually mean something? Racks upon racks of so called bestsellers, but not a book worth reading. I took two steps further (its a really small place) hoping to find better books, but found three huge shelves filled with CDs. Well well. A third of the shop already seen, and nothing worthwhile! I took a left and got away from the weirdly titled films adorning a major part of the corner. Management, Self-Help... Isnt there room for something that would interest a 19 year old girl? I reached the Childrens section and found some happiness. But I am too old for 123 and ABC! Then all of a sudden my eyes (metaphorically) fell on slim Indian comics titled "Naya Office Office". I picked one up and flipped through it. Apparently the comics are inspired by a TV serial that runs in India, dealing with a common man going through the corruption and red-tapism of various Indian offices. I kind of liked them. Children ought to read such things. Atleast be aware. Better than silly movies and idiotically titled books that have no meaning whatsoever.

Petrified Pooch

2009-01-21T13:13:00.005+05:30

I was feeling a bit queasy, but went ahead to meet my friend anyway. Came to this narrow, isolated road with no car in sight. Was going at a pretty decent speed when all of a sudden this brown, spindly dog jumped from the divider onto the road, and began crossing it at snail's pace. For a split second, the dog set his mournful eyes on me and put his tail between his legs. I slammed the brakes hard and my head nearly hit the windshield. (I am pretty short, so my seat is all the way in front so my legs reach the pedals. I know I'll bang my head and die if I ever meet with an accident!) The car had come so close to the dog, that he had almost disappeared from sight! I waited for the petrified pooch to move, but he just refused to budge! I honked a little but the poor fellow just stood there, shit scared. By this time I was really getting frustrated (not to mention, late). I slid down the window and craned my neck. There was the pitiful fellow. "Hush hush", I said in the most motherly voice I could muster. He came to his senses and scampered away.

How NOT To Take Care Of Your Mobile

2009-01-19T11:16:00.007+05:30

Stupid eh? Yeah, I'm Stupid. Stupid like a fox!

Today I am going to tell you what happens when your brains take a walk.

Time : Early Morning (10 am, haha)

1. Get up

2. Go to the bathroom

3. Place mobile on sink (stupid thing no. 1)

4. *brush* *brush* *brush*...

5. Mobile slides into the sink and mingles happily with the water

6. Grab mobile and fish it out

7. Notice toothpaste stain on mobile

8. Put it back in water and rinse (stupid thing no. 2)

For The Love Of Dog!

2009-01-17T11:19:00.007+05:30

I grew up in a colony which had many stray dogs scampering about. Every couple of months, a fresh batch of pups would be born. Oh how cute they looked! The fat, furry body and those melting eyes. A head so small, yet so complete in itself. So much better than a newly born human baby!

I have heard people scream, yes literally scream, when they hear me equating a dog with a human. Oh no. Oh no no. I am not equating them. I am simply saying that dogs are better.

There was this time when I was taking a walk with my mother. A couple was coming in our direction. The lady was pushing a pram with a bonny baby inside, while her husband was walking a pug. As they went by, I whispered "how pretty!", "so cute!" and whatnot to my mother. The baby's mother apparently heard me because she smiled. I took this as a good omen and bent down to pat the flat head of the little pug. "A beautiful dog you have here", I said.

She was shocked out of her wits.

Daddy

2009-01-16T23:24:00.004+05:30

I used to call my grandfather "Daddy", because I had always heard my mother calling him that. He was an agile man in his youth, but as time went by his body gave way to Parkinsons. His movements became slower by the day, and his thoughts more disoriented. Part of his problems were also because of old age.

He would be extremely clumsy at times, and this would not only be a great source of amusement to others, but to himself as well. He would chuckle generously after making mistakes, and trouble his wife with absolute relish. He was a naughty old man.

The year was 2006. School was closed for the summer holidays. I planned to spend them with my grandparents. I was going to be alone with them for the first time, since Mummy could not accompany me. Little did I realise that this vacation was going to alter my life forever.

The initial few days were boring. To pass some time, I got down to some house cleaning. I raided a bed-ful of photographs, and found them in a pathetic condition. The albums were tearing at the seams, and most of the photographs were spilling out. I am a sucker for preserving old stuff, so I decided to rearrange all of them neatly and put them in a new album.

The next day, Badimummy took me to the market. We spent some time roaming around and eating. On our way back, we stopped at a photo studio and purchased a HUGE album. Oh, how my arms ached carrying it around till we reached home.

The next few days were spent in an absolute frenzy. There were thousands and thousands of black-and-white photographs to sort. Badimummy would sit down besides me and tell me the story behind every one. How Daddy would hang bedsheets in the background before clicking family portraits, how he would spend so much money on film reels, how he pursued photography as a side hobby.. I learnt so much about him from the photographs, even though he was himself present in none of them.

A week or so later, the album was finally made. Daddy knew nothing about the whole project because I had kept the whole affair a secret. I wanted to give him a surprise, and I knew he would love it. I brought him outside, seated him at the dining table, slid the album in front of him, and waited. At first, he merely glanced here and there absent-mindedly. But after a few minutes, he fixed his sight on the album and raised his frail hand towards it. He slowly opened the cover, and came face to face with a majestic black-and-white portrait of his father. His gentle eyes clouded with tears, and I saw an entire life flash before me in that one hour..

I Am Not Alone

2009-01-16T11:38:00.003+05:30

Last night, just when I was wallowing in boredom and self-pity, my friends came to the rescue. Like a ray of light that brightens up a room after the dark night, they filled me up with warmth and hope.

I had just finished writing the previous post when a very good friend from my days in Bombay came online. She hardly ever has time, so I was surprised to see her. We chatted for sometime when all of a sudden another friend from the same "era" came online too. Wow. A double bonanza. We hooked up a conference and chatted like we did when we were little. This was happening after 9 years.

Later into the night, when I was feeling a little more happy and a lot less sad, my phone rang. It was one of my dearest friends. I knew she was distressed from the moment I picked up her call.

As she healed, the last traces of my pain went away.

I am not alone.

Three Months, Then Solitude

2009-01-15T23:00:00.002+05:30

I am sitting here all alone with no one to give me company. One of the rare days when I am online and everyone else is asleep. A feeling of desertion is taking over me. Why are we sometimes so afraid of the silence? So scared to be left alone? I feel like the whole world has left me and that I am running behind it, trying to catch up. I am feeling lonely and tensed. I want to break down and cry my eyes out. Today for the first time since 5th October, I am heart broken.

Slumdog Millionaire - A Million Thanks

2009-01-12T20:46:00.002+05:30

Slumdog Millionaire swept the Golden Globes 2009, winning in all categories it was nominated for. (Best Motion Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Original Score). I am one proud Indian today. And so is every Indian who has admired and appreciated the great minds that went behind the creation of the movie. I give my heartfelt wishes to Danny Boyle, Simon Beaufoy and A.R. Rahman for giving us a film that makes us swell with pride. Waiting for it to release in India in the coming months.

Level 1 German

2009-01-10T12:03:00.001+05:30

I got 97 in my Level 1 German Exam! YAY! :D

The Seven Deadly Sins Quiz (Entertaiment Purposes Only)

2009-01-08T22:18:00.002+05:30

I came across this quiz on someone elses blog and tried it just for fun. Its about how sinful we are. Here are the results -

Greed:	Medium
Gluttony:	Medium
Wrath:	Medium
Sloth:	Medium
Envy:	Low
Lust:	Very Low
Pride:	Medium

Discover Your Sins - Click Here

My New Year

2009-01-08T10:26:00.002+05:30

I never have plans on new year's eve. One reason reason being I am not allowed to venture into the darkness at such a young age (by my parents). I somewhat agree. I would rather sit in my warm couch at home and watch tv than worry out in the cold about my safety. The other reason is that my family is most boring in terms of celebrating stuff.

But things changed after we shifted to this society. I have more opportunities to socialise and meet people. I am a people's person and love attending even the smallest party/gathering/pooja/etc/etc. So boy was I happy when my mother and her Kitty Party friends (Funny name. Is it because women sometimes fight like cats?) decided to throw a new year bash for the whole society. It was all decided barely 2 days before new year's eve, so everything was done in a jiffy. A simple menu was planned. Every flat was going to be charged a humble 100 rupees. Food for the whole family, good music, fun and games. In short - a great start to the new year. What more can a person ask for? But then every society has its share of rotten apples. A few dunderheads refused to pay the money saying it was "too costly" and that they were "not interested". Very well.

31st December arrived and the excitement within me grew. I got ready and went downstairs with my mother. The crowd thickened, and within the hour we had close to a 100 people. It was a success! But then I noticed that even those who had not paid the money had come down! Some people have no shame!

We put on some music and let the children play games like musical chairs and passing-the-parcel. The usual. There was also a bonfire on one end to keep the cold at bay. Little kids were running around and the elders were playing tambola. A few teens gathered around the blaring speakers to perform a dance. There was this incredibly flexible girl who was slithering all over the place. Everyone was in excellent spirits.

The evening was spent running around, eating, playing games, chatting and relaxing in front of the bonfire. The sky grew darker and the breeze became colder. My sides were aching from laughing so much. I kept looking at my phone now and then to make sure that we did not miss the stroke of midnight. Finally when the mood was at its peak, I looked at my phone again. 11.58 pm. Just two minutes more to the new year! The whole area started buzzing with excitement. Everyone gathered around. One lady rushed to me with a GIGANTIC balloon in her hands. The countdown began. 10.................... 9.................. 8....................... 7...................... 6........................... 5........................... 4........................ 3........................ 2................ 1....................... 0....................... BAM!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Robbed On Christmas Eve!

2008-12-25T13:00:00.003+05:30

From the actual 'crime scene'

The doorbell rang through the silence and woke me up rather rudely. I grabbed my mobile to look at the time. Around 7.30 am. Who would disturb us at such an unearthly hour on a winter morning? My mother was awake and doing her usual household chores, so she answered the door. I heard a male voice. "The lock of your other house is broken. You better come and see." The next thing I heard was mummy walking out of the house. The robbers struck at the right time I guess. We dont stay there any longer, and my Dadi (Father's mother) is out for a vacation.

I didnt bother to get up because I knew the thieves wouldnt have found much to steal. All our stuff is now here, save a few pieces of furniture. And whatever my Dadi has would not really amount to anything. But then lightening struck me and I remembered my father's brand new speakers and music system that were still in their cartons. They were stored there because this house of ours is smaller and doesnt have any free space. I got up in a hurry, grabbed my jacket and left.

My brother and I reached the other home in a matter of a few minutes. After all, its only across the road. Mummy was already there talking on the mobile with someone. I hurriedly went inside was greeted by the chaos. Every cupboard, bed and showcase was thrown open. The wooden doors were splintered near the knobs. It looked like a tornado had come visiting. I quickly grabbed my cellphone and thanked my stars for its good quality camera. I moved from room to room and clicked away.

The floor above barely has any furniture in it. So there wasnt really much for the thieves to break. But as I went to my parents' room, I saw that the locker had been broken into. But so far nothing was missing. Then I thought about my father's precious stuff and rushed to the other room to check if it was still there. Everything in that room was untouched.

The bumbling thieves wasted their whole night breaking through nearly 10 locks, but did not take anything away. They wanted cash and gold, and obviously did not find any.

Mummy then called out to me and asked me to go back home and wait for the maid. I agreed because there wasnt much for me to do anyway. I came back and quickly loaded all the photos to my laptop. I observed them all carefully since I didnt really have time to do that in the real 'crime scene'. I zoomed in to one picture of my parents' room and saw something missing. Then the dam broke and I couldnt stop laughing.

The thieves will have a very merry Christmas tonight with my father's collection of priceless scotch bottles.

(click on the pics to enlarge them)

Someone Bring Michaels To India!

2008-12-24T20:07:00.008+05:30

My crayons and the colouring book

"I do not know whence I got the notion that good handwriting was not a necessary part of education, but I retained it until I went to England. When later, especially in South Africa, I saw the beautiful handwriting of lawyers and young men born and educated in South Africa, I was ashamed of myself and repented of my neglect. I saw that bad handwriting should be regarded as a sign of an imperfect education. I tried later to improve mine, but it was too late. I could never repair the neglect of my youth. Let every young man and woman be warned by my example, and understand that good handwriting is a necessary part of education. I am now of opinion that children should first be taught the art of drawing before learning how to write. Let the child learn his letters by observation as he does different objects, such as flowers, birds, etc., and let him learn handwriting only after he has learnt to draw objects. He will then write a beautifully formed hand."

- Mahatma Gandhi

(Part 1, Chapter V, My Experiments with Truth)

My mother unknowingly applied Mr.Gandhi's thought to my life. I was given boxes and boxes of crayons, colour pencils and sketchpens and tonnes of jumbo drawing books. I wasnt complaining either. I would spend hours colouring between the black lines and playing Dot-to-Dot. Even today, just the sight of something colourful and bright mesmerises me. I have grown up to become the girl who wears the brightest of clothes and makeup. It makes me feel so vibrant and full of life!

As I grew up, my love for crayons and craft increased. Every friend's birthday would have me slaving for hours, making beautiful wrapping papers and greeting cards. But sadly, the standard stationery shops of India have nothing much to offer in terms of art supplies. But I had to keep myself content with whatever little was on offer, coupled with ocassional packs of Crayola from papa's trips abroad or visiting relatives.

But there were bigger and better things in store for me. I got a chance to visit Germany and went crazy over Faber Castell. Then Canada beckoned and so did an art store, Loomis. I spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars to buy things that would last me for a whole decade. Well the decade is nearly over now. And I want my art supplies, NOW!

Things have changed over the years, and the time I have for this passion of mine is lessening. So yesterday, when I bought a huge pack of crayons, sketchpens and colouring books for my little neighbour's birthday, I bought some for myself too. As I filled in the colours between the black lines, I felt like myself again.

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

Driving In India

2008-12-20T12:35:00.002+05:30

A woman driver in India is considered an amateur. Someone who can never ever learn to drive properly. Someone who goofs up and scratches up other people's cars. The root cause of most accidents. Someone who clams up while reversing.

We have got the encouragement to drive but not the acceptance to drive as equals.

Last Two Years Of Schooling

2008-12-10T10:17:00.002+05:30

My mother is a Maths tuition teacher, and ironically, both her kids are absolute duds at it. Ronnie always managed to pass, though. I was the one failing everytime. I had to reappear for the blasted subject when I was in class 9, but in the 10th Board Exam, I scraped 38 marks out of 100. All my classmates were complaining about their marks. Even those who had scored well in the 70s and 80s. On the other hand, I was the only one in a state of euphoria! I had done it! I had somehow managed to clear the paper, and now I wouldnt have to take it as a subject again!

I realised that I belonged in the Humanities stream (Its also called Arts) somewhere in class 9. But there was a problem. My school had stopped offering Humanities as a choice of stream since the past 10-11 years, since it did not have many takers. I had to change my school.

I approached the Vice Principal. I thought that I would somehow be able to convince him to restart the Humanities stream, since there were 6-7 other children who were also interested to take it up. But he flatly refused. I now knew that my efforts were going to have no results. A new stream could not be started so soon.

I withdrew from the school, and then my school hunting began. I had changed schools twice before, but then I was too young to know the entire process. But now, I was more aware and more interested.

None of the top schools let me in because they needed someone with a minimum of 80% in the Board Exam. Well, it didnt bother me too much. But at the same time I got an invitation from a newly opened, but highly prominent school in the city. The place where snooty children of snooty parents went to. I refused because I could not see myself settling in there comfortably.

After a few days of inactivity, a thought struck my mom. There were just 2 more years of schooling ahead of me. Since I had always studied in exceptional schools, why couldnt I take a chance and go to a small, newly opened school? After all, they were mushrooming all around our locality! I decided to take the risk.

The very next day, I went to the oldest of the newly opened schools (and most reliable among them), accompanied by my mom and one of my friends. The school was small and not at all imposing from the outside. But I got an inferiority complex once we went in. The floor was gleaming and the reception cum waiting area was highly ornate. There were water dispensers all around with those little plastic glasses. I was awestruck. In my previous school, though it was one of the best, we drank directly through the taps. This school was also airconditioned. My friend said that it looked like a 5 star hotel.

There were a couple of parents waiting with a child or two in tow. The school was going to start its first batch of class 11, so there were many takers. An admission was guaranteed here. These very students, including me, would subsequently become the school's first batch of class 12 as well.

The Principal was interviewing the children and their parents one at a time. It was our turn next, and I insisted on taking along my friend as well (I didnt want her to feel lonely). The three of us knocked the door, entered the room and sat down immediately. I saw an angelic looking lady sitting in front of me. She smiled at all of us and started talking to my friend. She kept talking, kept asking her questions for the next couple of minutes, until I realised what was happening. She thought that my friend was here for the admission! I quickly corrected her and we all had a heartly laugh.

We came outside, my admission fixed. I looked around with a sigh, and prepared myself for the stay in the hotel.

The Identity Crisis Of Rima Kaur

2008-12-03T10:27:00.002+05:30

I look at other blogs and wonder how people twirl their words around and around to create such beautiful entries. It all looks so difficult to me! My blog, however, can be described as simple and straightforward. Pretty much the same as I am in real life. Precise. To the point.

This free-spirited nature of mine, coupled with my utterly rebellious nature, put me in a tight spot one time too many. The earlier incidents of rebellion I do not remember, perhaps because they were too small and insignificant. But as I grew older, they were no longer far and few in between. My rebel spirit grew stronger and stronger, until there came a point where I couldnt care less for other people's feelings. My speech, which was witty at one point of time, though a bit outspoken, became rude, brash and uncivilised. People thought of me to be heartless and cold.

Then something happened that sucked out all these horrible things out of me. I wanted people to know me, the real me. I wanted them to know that I was warm, kind, helpful and loving. I was sick of being labelled as uncouth.

I moved over to the next class with an unconscious resolve to show myself truly. No pretense. The transition was smooth, easy and hugely noticed by my classmates. I was popular still, but now for all the right reasons.

It has been many years since this identity crisis. I am still a rebel at heart. I still speak my mind. But there is a certain softness about it all. My classmates remember me as a friendly person who would go out of the way to help people. And that is the beauty of it. To know that you make people happy.

Now there's something strange here. The time period when I was a girl with two horns and a spiked tail is fuzzy in my mind. I dont really remember anything worthwhile from that duration. But things that happened years earlier, even when I was 3-4 years old, are so clear in my mind.

Any explanations?

Inder

2008-11-29T20:40:00.002+05:30

When I think of Inder, I am reminded of Barista, and the table next-to-the-corner-table. The table where we always sit at and sip our coffees. The table where he taught me how to read and write Punjabi. The table where things started and also ended once.

I am also reminded of his gold-framed aviators. His height. His rugged style. The Ik Onkar pendant hanging from his neck. His silver Bullet. His street-smartness.

When I got to know him initially, life was a smooth sail for him. But things changed, as they always do. I wouldnt even say that his life was turned upside down. It was tumbled into a mess.

But I know for sure that one day his dream is going to come true. He does not shy hard work, and nothing is too low for him.

I try not to be in awe of him, but its kind of hard.

(click on the pic to enlarge it)

Mumbai And Delhi : My Homes

2008-11-29T20:26:00.002+05:30

Mumbai was where I belonged to, for a very long time. I was born there, and spent my formative years in one of its best schools. As I approached my 10th Birthday, certain circumstances forced my family to shift to Delhi.

Even after spending almost 10 years here in Delhi, Mumbai holds a special place in my heart. I wasnt allowed to venture out of the colony where we stayed because I was too small, but I could feel Mumbai and its soul, nontheless. I can say that because everything seemed different when I came to Delhi. The behaviour of children and the schools. The way of teaching and the nosy, loud adults. Yes, things were very different.

I dont really intend to go back there. Even though I think of the beach, my colony, my friends and my school a great deal. But I will always be both a Mumbaikar and a Delhiite at heart.

I shudder to think of the ordeal that people in Mumbai have gone through in the past few days. My heart bleeds for them.

Cheap Pants

2008-11-26T20:28:00.003+05:30

Ronnie (to mummy) : Bring cheap pants for me when you come back.

HP vs LOTR

2008-11-26T10:31:00.001+05:30

Gollum

I am a stubborn person. I'll do what I have to do, speak what I have to speak. Rarely do I let go of acting like a little donkey.

I am also a huge fan of Harry Potter. I must have read the books and watched the movies umpteen number of times. I just cannot stand anyone speaking anything negative about them.

Now Inder hates Harry Potter. Hate is a mild word here. But on the other hand he cant really stop raving about The Lord Of The Rings. He hasnt read the books (like many people), but he has seen the films and enjoyed them very much (again, like many people).

Now's when the stubborn part of mine comes in. For months, I refused to watch the films and made an assumption that they can definitely not be better than Harry Potter. But a few days back, I was alone at home, with a bunch of CDs in front of me. I put in one, and thus started the newfound love between me and the Famous Trilogy. The Lord Of The Rings - The Fellowship of The Ring, which is the first part, started playing, and I was mesmerised right from the start. Morning till night, I sat there, watching scene after scene, film after film, in a state of awe.

Its hard to decide what is better, LOTR or HP. LOTR is more mature and not quite funny (an element which is crucial for me), whereas HP has the right dose of plot, humour, interesting characters etc. But then again, why should something be better than the other? I can like both equally. Isnt it?

Sometimes, being stubborn isnt so good.

Oh, and Gollum rocks!

Michael Jackson Beat It

2008-11-25T20:36:00.002+05:30

What's up with Michael Jackson? There was a time when the whole world was mad about him, fainting with happiness just at the sight of him. Now all they do is laugh at him.

When I was young, my father would dim the lights of the hall and put on his collection of songs on full volume. Among the many hard rock and heavy metal songs that he played, were the songs of Michael. With awe, I would listen too. Michael Jackson was the ultimate for me.

Well that was all a long time ago. I read in the newspaper a few days back that he's now almost bankrupt, and living off some Sheikh in Bahrain. Then again the next day, an article appeared that he has converted his religion to Islam, and wants to be henceforth known as Mikaeel.

I smell something fishy here!

Some Things Burn Easily

2008-11-24T10:02:00.003+05:30

About two days back, I was making Maggie noodles for Ronnie. They are, according to me, the worst tasting brand of instant noodles available in the Indian market, but oh well. I put a pot on the stove and lit it. When I turned to grab a cup of water, something happened inside my brain (I dont know what) and instead, I grabbed the Tastemaker. I might be thinking about something irrelevant at that point, because I cut the packet and put the contents directly in the pot containing no water. Before I could react to my stupidity, the Tastemaker started burning and sticking to the base of the pot, giving off this horrible, putrid stink from the depths of hell. A thick cloud of smoke filled up the entire kitchen. I (slowly) came back to my senses and grabbed the hot pot, filling it with water at the sink. Then I ran to the switchboard and put on the exhaust. The stench did not leave the house for the entire day.

Lesson learnt : WATER FIRST, EVERYTHING ELSE LATER