Glowing Mr.Pumpkin

Halloween is here and Mr. Pumpkin gives his 6 easy steps to a glowing party.


1. Bright orange, round, little Mr.Pumpkin is ready for his makeover. A small tuft on his head gives him a neat crop look.


2. Cleansing treatment for Mr.Pumpkin to remove the seeds & pulp. Smooth cut in his base helps to file him neat.


3. Mr. Pumpkin gets shapely eyes, sharp nose and smiley mouth carved with a sharp edge knife.


4. Luke warm water bath for Mr. Pumpkin before the finishing touches. Scrub him dry with a kitchen towelette.


5. Mr. Pumpkin is ready, neat and clean for his finishing touches. He smiles brightly looking forward to his party.



6. Party time!!! Mr. Pumpkin glows brighty with a fresh rain scented candle.

No more senti twitters

I thought I was getting way too senti with all those mushy posts back-to-back. First on my bro, and then on some hearts fluttering chirpings above my head kinda stuff. This does no good to my image of being a Hero.
(I have no clue why I fancy myself calling that, but a few of my weird friends in office started calling me “HERO” and ever since I like to stick to it.)

Instead, I could be giving updates on how I religiously browse the Harley Davidson site for the latest bike updates or compare the features of Royal Enfield bullets. Even better, how I hunt for good deals to Andaman Islands, or simply drool over the Johnny boy. Yeah, that’s makes me look perfectly “ME”- weird and different.

With the change in the Pacific Time zone this Sunday, my sleep cycle is still getting adjusted to the huge difference of 1 hour. I don’t mind sitting late, but getting up at the unearthly hour of 7.20am does disasters to me. I simply cannot get up in the morning. That skimpy dressed Sherawat babe may take to Ramananda Sagar’s next epic, but I simply cannot get up. I cannot, I cannot, I cannot.

Considering the fact that I spend the best part of my waking hours at my desk, I keep it quite messy. Waking hours because the remaining part of the day sees me snoring with my eyes open or eyes closed. Messy because I need all the things that I want strewn within an arms reach. It does not matter an inch in my soul if it looks like a cannibals unkempt head. Often, I have to run amok the considerable heights of piled junk to find the “wanted” thing, but that does not stop me.

Today, I got into this valorous task of putting some order into my work dockyard so that I could actually “see” the stuff properly and work on them. Simply because we have an audit coming up and I-me-myself could not make sense of the spread junk. I was prepared for a stray spider or fly or roach, not that there would be any. So, I worked my sleeves up.

In the process, I realized a few things which have been there, randomly placed, around me, making my day a little more bright in their own simple ways.

The list poops up here.

1. A family photo with my Dad, Ma, Bro and me- Its that very typical kind of family wala photo where everyone is smiling bright. Every time I look at it, I tend to smile back and feel a sense of security. I simply love the bright colours in the photo, the red saaree of mom, white tee of dad, red tee of bro and pastel green for me. Even the diwan cover looks bright in bandani red.

2. A small idol of Lord Ganesh- sitting high on my desktop. This was given to me by Ovi and Karen when I was leaving to US, wishing me luck. I still remember that last day when we sat in Pizza Hut, with me counting the last few hours before my flight. I had poured my heart out to these two darling friends of mine, told them about my nervous beats and how much I was going to miss them. Especially because Karen and I had once planned of coming to US together and now, I was going alone. I always start my work with a small prayer wishing for a fruitful day of work.

3. I have a pretty card saying “101 reasons what make you a great friend” given to me by a dear friend, Dhaval some 5 years back. Now, in London, he might be of a different opinion as I have not mailed him for ages. But this bright card always reminds me of my college days, my friends, and my life back at home.

4. “Dearest Dampoo, much is expected from those to whom much is given” says a small loving mail from a person whom I respect a lot. When I was in Blore, my team lead Malcolm was a great tutor and inspiration for me. I was always inspired with his enthu and zeal and even now, he sends me a regular mail, brightening my day. Now, he is the managing director of a firm in Mysore and I run to him whenever I need some gyan.

5. A printout of a mail sent by my dear Chikku saying “True Friendship” always gets a smile from me. It’s a senti mail coming from a person who never ever shows much emotions and I really wonder how much he would have gone out of his usual nature to send me this card. The words he has written “with lots of love” always gets me a little mushy.

6. A holiday picture of dad, ma and me in Salem when I was much saner, younger and er tolerable. It was clicked 7 years back and I was trying to climb into the bonnet of the car.

7. One pic my bro gave me, of him and me. Me smiling at him and him glaring and standing tall above me. I love this pic coz he looks adorable(as usual).

8. A printout of the post which Dev had written for me. I have the entire post by heart by now with the umpteenth times I have read it. It simply makes me happy to read this post.

Each of this gives me some happiness, some stray sighs, some smiles, some cheering, some motivation and some moments of myself. Each of this, makes a part of my life.

Am I senti again?

Finally, to my relief, my desk is much manageable with some sense restored into it. Hopefully I will be able to find the things I want without much circusgiri. Aila! did I term a new word?

How do I tell you?

Call me insane if you want. Nah, I wont deny. But I could not let this one pass, even if I had to tear myself from the warm comfy of my blankets and slumbering sleep, silently, 1 in the night. I had to say it now, or maybe I would never.

I am no poet and I am no charmer. Just close your eyes and listen to my heart... all that I have to tell you...

"do I tell you how bright my day is when I think of you; do I tell you how my heart skips a beat when I hear your call; do I tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice; do I tell you how restless I get when I dont talk to you; do I tell you how I wait for the time to tick away slowly; do I tell you how I save each of your pics you send; do I tell you how eagerly I wait for the weekends, just to talk to you; do I tell you how much I hang to every word you say; do I tell you how much I love to hear you laugh; do I tell you how dearly I save all your voicemails; do I tell you how happy your thoughts make me feel; do I tell you how much I wish I could make your day a little more bright; do I tell you how eager I am to meet you after all this while; do I tell you how special you are to me; do I tell you or I dont "


Oh, how do I tell you???

Between THEN and NOW

Then, I held the li’l him tenderly in my arms and wondered how tiny he was.
Now, I see him grow tall and handsome and wonder how wrong I was.

Then, his little eyes followed my every move and smiled with innocent glee at my attempts to make him smile.
Now, he makes me laugh with his jokes and roars with laughter all the while.

Then, he held my fingers tight as he took his first steps.
Now, he can crush me tight in an embrace and make me grasp for my breath.

Then, I waited for him outside his class, to walk him home.
Now, he waits in Mlore, telling me to come back home.

Then, his face brightened up every time he saw me waiting for him.
Now, my day brightens with a small off liner or a li’l h from him.

Then, he came to me with his coloring books and asked me to help him paint.
Now, he sends me interesting links, how very quaint.

Then, the little him asked me to get chocos for him when I came back from school.
Now, he tells me not to spend much on him, camera or computer tools.

Then, he wondered with surprising eyes how I could explain the rotation of the fan so easily to him.
Now, I am amazed when he tells me so much about techy stuff and I learn hella lot from him.

Then, he asked me what gift for B’day I would give him.
Now, everything I buy gets a suggestion from him.

Then, I used to tell him songs and stories to put him to sleep.
Now, he sends me latest songs for updated I need to be keep.

Then, I used to take him to his tuitions and coaching’s on my bike.
Now, he tells me he will drive me around when I come back.

Then, I used to let him use my old color box.
Now, he tells me I can have his brand new updated comp.

Then, I used to cuddle him lovingly on my lap.
Now, he gives me the moral support with a pat on my back.

Then, I would tell him that I would share my desk with him.
Now, he tells me that I can have his room without any trouble from him.

Then, for his pencils, ice creams and chats, I would pay.
Now, he discusses my savings, money and my salary pay.

Then, I would support him with all the reluctant parental decisions.
Now, he assures me that he will be on my side in all my decisions.

Then, he would ask me to pick up his jeans and tees for color dress.
Now, he tells me what kind of clothes I need to wear to impress.

Then, he would ask me what I thought of his friends.
Now, he tells me that he approves of my choice of friends.

Then, he would run to me for every small problem and ask for my opinions.
Now, he listens carefully to me and tells me what he thinks of my actions.

Then, he would ask me for help with very simple words.
Now, he tells me about global issues and how science works.

Then, I would cook for his friends and take them out.
Now, he chats with my friends and scraps them throughout.

Then, he would ask me the difference between physics and math’s.
Now, he tells me the percentile ranking of different colleges and the CAT’S.

Then, I would ask him about his friends and their evening plans.
Now, he askes about my marriage and my future plans.

Then, I was his protective big sis and he my darling li’l bro.
Now, we are friends and together we grow.

Ek night ki baat

I get a call around 11.30 am (SD time) from a friend who is traveling Mlore-Blore, night journey, single sleeper, non-a/c.

(some crude translation from konkani to english)

He: Guess what? (aww, don’t I just love to hear that voice)
Me: Don’t tell me that you want to use the restroom? (Given his record for basic instinct release urges during the bus journey)
He: Nah, this one is much funnier.
Me: Hm, the girl next berth found herself cozy on you? (Poor soul has been dreaming of this without any luck)
He: Nah, I opened a coke bottle and it frizzed all over my pants.
Me: great!!! (Grinning wild as 70mm screen in my brainy, randomly projects the “oh, what the heck has he done in his pants’ looks he would get)

For the Mloreans working in Blore, the night bus journey is a monthly routine, give or take a few weeks. You take the night bus from any corner of Blore, snore through the length of the journey and open your eyes in the morning, and Lo! You are in Mlore.(or vise versa). Occasionally, you stop in Hassan/Sakleshpur for a quick restroom visit or night cap chai. Nothing like a hot steaming cup of tea on a chilly night.

For me Mlore-Blore travel was much habitual. I traveled back to Mlore every week such that I knew all the drivers of the bus as well as they knew me. I had a good deal from Vishal Travels (route D) with an allotted single seater #17 booked for me all year through. This ensured that I had a seat booked unless I cancelled it (which happened very rarely) for half the regular price.

I also can mention that the bus people always waited for me as I always made it a point to make a grand late entry. After the initially weeks of waiting in vein, the travel agent made it a point to give me a reminder 30 mins before the scheduled time. He said he even knew my cell number by heart. I was such a deemed customer, you see.

To broadly classify the types of options you are make avail of, you have single seater, double seater, single sleeper, double sleeper, a/c, non-a/c, in permutation & combination ratio. They even have ultra tech names like Volvo, high tech, airbus, and some other fancy things which make every travel the same with the drenched roads along the journey.

Being a regular, I had made “bus friends” who traveled by the same route. Almost all of us had the regular seats allotted and we usually had some casual talks regarding the roads, buses and bus price. Well, even if I wanted to ask that cute guy if he was still single, I could not risk my ticket being voided. So, I usually stuck to much general topics.

With the day's tiring work and the possible fact that the 13th pair of chromosome in my DNA has “sleep” as its genetic code, I sleep as a drug doused horse. Well, how else will you explain my gleeful sleeping even when half the bus would be tossing uncomfortably over the disruptive roads?

Anyway, a quick googling kind of search on my brainy’s search engine gave these results.

# There was this one time when I slept so soundly that I woke up in Padubidri, some miles away from Mlore. Well, I had a nice breakfast there and traveled back for another 30 mins before I reached home. Reported the delay to parents as tire puncture on the Ghats.

# The other time, I got down in such a jiffy that I forgot the luggage inside the bus. Since the only contents in the bags accounted to loads of unwashed clothes, I found it safely returned.

# One time when my single seat (remember me mentioning #17 on Vishal route D) was given to some other person by mistake, I demanded my money being returned, gave such a scary fight to the agent that I earned a free journey to Mlore. Additional perk, I got 2 seats to myself. I know I am scary, but no one gets away with my seat.

# My dad always made it a point to call me early morning to wake me up. He was always worried if his li’l baby would oversleep and miss her stop. Aww, my darling dad, he forgets that his baby is a devil of the nth order.

# There was one time that I slept so soundly that I fell from my seat, dhum, in the middle of the night. I guess I had woken half the bus with the sound and my small scream. The driver switched the lights on, and I dutifully got back into my seat without much qualms. I was so sleepy that I did not notice the small lump on my forehead till the next morning.

# I have to mention the time I saw, rather heard a couple try to “make out” in the bus in a seat adjacent to mine. I had a good mind to switch on the lights and have a good show. But, being the decent girl that I am, I restored to sleeping mode. The next morning, they were gone before I could have a better look at them.

# Once, during the journey, the fellow sitting behind me, dared to make some liberal moves with his hands and legs. At midnight, when I had reached the limits of my tolerance, I woke half the bus with my fuming rage such that he was tossed to the extreme back of the bus. I doubt if he ever dared to play smart with any girl ever again. I loathe such cheapos.

# One journey was very memorable with 4 of my friends traveling with me. We never slept half the night creating mega nuisances on the bus, till we feared that we would be thrown out.

# My frustrating journey was when the bus was delayed by 5 hours due to some accident on the Ghats. I had no water, no cell range, no chocolates, no book to read and no sleep. It was my worst experience.

# Not to forget that one time when a fellow was on call with such abandoned sense of being a trouble to others, meaning he was too loud. I walked to him with a “look” and told him that if he spoke so loudly, he dint need a cell, the other person could hear him without any aide. It was enough for him to cut the call short and apologize and me sleeping in peace. I guess a couple of passengers gave me some silent thanks too.

# One funny experience I could add was when the guy sitting in front seat was relating the days event to his mom in Konkani. He took immense pain in giving complete details about the bus, his seat, the passengers, adding that one pretty girl was sitting behind him (as if the poor mama’s boy was in tow for a kidnapping). I dutifully got up and thanked him. It was worth seeing the “oh shit, she is a Konkani too” look on his face.
Aw, don’t I love to acknowledge the compliments!

# One time I was coming to Mlore with a friend, with whom I had some tiny-winy fight over the dinner thingy. He had his dinner and I dint coz of his bad timing and poor soul had packed a dosa for me. I was fuming mad at him for turning up late and me missing my dinner. Two guys sitting behind us were peeping with such interest that I asked my friend to feed them the dosas. So much for being hungry.

# There was one time when the luggage compartment of the bus got locked and I had to go all the way till the bus depot. That was one time when I dint fight with the driver of the inconvenience caused, rather went to a friends place close by for breakfast.
Well, I can be sweet when I want.


Yet, the journey was fun, every bit of it. When I was coming to US, my Blore travel agent gave me a Diary Milk bar to wish me luck. Er, he did ask me to get chocolates for him too but it was really very sweet of him.

Anyway, upon my return I would be doing more of nightcaps and I guess that I am destined to have Mlore-Blore night travel all my life. *sigh* some things never change. But hopefully the roads would be better by then and Vishal Travels would give a better deal this time.


And, hopefully my friend’s khakis’ are dried by morning.

Just a sigh*

For the first time today, in the life of my bloggy, I deleted a entire post I wrote. I always wrote what came to my heart, just bindas, never ever thought what the person reading it would comprehend of it.

Would he think I am insane to personify my brain and blog? If I am stupid to crib about missing home? If write as well as any third grade student? If my grammar resembles that of Wren and Martin’s? If my use of language gives a run to any Webster’s thesaurus? If he thinks could use my time in more fruitful activities?

Nothing.

I just wrote, for myself, for my happiness, for my satisfaction. I wrote to pour my heart out, I wrote to make myself laugh, I wrote to tell the story of my life, I wrote about everything that makes me what I am.

Today, I changed that. Today I deleted one post which I had written with lot of love. I did not even save it in my word pad or blopost. I simply deleted it, without a second thought or a remotest qualm. For the first time, I felt that I dint want to share something, a memory.

Or, am I scared to accept it myself?

Looney Toony day

I was in a very chirpy mood today. Infact I was in a very good mood to flap my hands and hop around like a bunny.
*hop hop hop*

So, googled (yes, google can be used as a verb too) to create my desktop mood. This new interest of mine is definitely getting exciting as I hunt for “that” one theme which suites my mood perfect. Many a times, it helps me to do some random timepass too. (er, I guess I should not have mentioned that). But I must confess, it helps big time to make me happy amidst all the boring, never jerking work.

So, lemme take a break and do a 5 second “silence prayer for google”
1-2-3-4-5.
*done*

Today, I fished a real cute bug’s bunny, gleefully smiling at me. His bright colors were perfect for today, a Thursday. He had his teeth jutting cute, a very naughty smile, and bright orange tee. I even tried to pull out my teeth like he did, but the hind thought that people around might come to inane conclusion about me, stopped my very interesting activity for the day.

This fella, however reminded me of “who suhane bachpan ke din” when I was much younger, much saner, much sweet, much er, less weighing?

Looney Tunes show was one of my all time favorites. This show was telecasted on cartoon network around 12.45pm and I used to rush home with my bro for the lunch break, and flank ungraciously on the sofa and sing the tunes, much to my Ma’s agony.
My bro and me would religiously sing all the tunes, complete with “tin tin”, “pe pe” , whatever the tunes were.

Everything about the Looney Tunes was funny. The chase, the adventure, the disasters, the efforts, the stupidity, the smartness, everything made it fun to watch.

It’s been ages since I last watched these shows, er, say 9 months?

I did a quick rapid fire on my brainy to scoop up my fav toony characters:

1. Wile Coyote and his hunting experiences.
2. Foxy sir with his disastrous Acme kit.
3. The “pe pe” of our road runner birdie who always zoomed by with amazing dusty speed.
4. The Daffy Duck and his adventures.
5. The Porky pig in his sparkling clean hat and coat.
6. The big gang of the tiny toons
7. Sylvester, the dear billa maama
8. Granny and her investigations
9. The cutie sweet tweety bird.

Don’t I miss watching them, *sigh*
Don’t I miss toony singing, *double sigh*
Don’t I miss being li’l again, *super double sigh*


“I thoth I taw a putty kat,,,,,yet, I deed I deed”

Any guesses???

Visacard:Everything::Priceless:?

It has been a long stay away from home. For the first time in the history of my life I have stayed away from parents, friends and everything that is dear to me. Well, don’t get carried away with the previous statement, I am not from the Neolithic age. Just used it to drive the point home.

They say, (I have no clue who says, but everyone says) you get used to it over a period of time. But in my case, the urge to be back where I belong gets stronger with time. I guess, its more like Rekha, she gets sexier with age. Man, she is some marvel I say!

Over a casual thought, I kept wondering how it would feel to be back at home. Thinking of home always gives me a sense of security. I get these stray thoughts when I am loaded with work; it gives me a super sonic push. I was lost for sometime thinking of those glorious reuniting moments. And I simply could not help myself from writing it, brainy would not allow it either, mainly for my own records.

# That long flight journey would make me restless as the hours tick by slowly. It would be a mixed feeling of sadness of leaving back SD which gave me more than I ever asked for; and happiness of going home.

#That first glimpse of my country, miles away yet, might give some happy thuds in my heart. After being an alien stranger for all these months, the feeling home coming would be great.

#That wait in the long queue to collect my luggage would kill me with that sweet impatience before I see my parents. Two people, whose love dragged me, back. Their smile would be worth more than any material success.

#How would it be to see my parents after such a long time, waiting for me with open arms? Hugging them would be the greatest joy for me in a long time, the pure bliss of being back with them. Would Ma give me those questioning looks about my hair and dress? Would Dad still look handsomely cute and start teasing me? Dad would start immediately about all the possible stories, making me simply glad that I was back.

My bro would not have come to meet me to Blore, he is busy with his college and exams. I will have to wait to meet him. It would be a total endearing joy to see the little kid all grown up, hovering tall above me. He definitely looks very handsome now. I would miss seeing him.

#How will it be to smell the sweet air of my country? That sky, that Blore chilly air, that traffic filled roads, will everything be the same as I had left them?

#Being back in my Mantu’s house and meeting all my couz would be so much joyful.
Mantu and Mavoo have been so much like my second set of parents for all these years.
Wondering what Mavoo would cook, it will surely have ‘jerber’ (that’s our code name for a particular dish)

Everyone would no doubt give me mega sized comments on my weight. (Jeez, I need to loose a few pounds before I leave, else my home coming won’t be so much fun). Will they still treat me like a kid? *sigh, I never grow-up for them*.

#Going back to Mlore, my home, my room, my bed, my things, would be so endearing. I would have got pretty senti and would demand to inspect everything. Hmm, to make sure everything is as cozy as I had left them. My Saffire darling would have been battered without my love and care, I hope he recognizes me. (er, its my two-wheeler)

#That delighted face of my bro would always remain in my memory, like the one I remember of him when I was leaving. Then, he was pretty senti, but the guy that he is, dint wanna show me that. He never came to say bye, not even to the car, he simply sat at home. I knew he was gonna miss me as I was gonna miss him.
Would he still let me hug-kiss-cuddle him?

#One more person who will meet me as soon as I set my foot in Mlore is my dear Dev. Oh yeah, he is gonna give me a bear hug, as he always does. He would probably drag me for icy and start ranting and raving about how much he missed me. And I would surely threaten to bash him if he dint stop.

#My dear Ovi and Andy, I would wait to meet them. They are busy but I am sure they will drop down when I come back, if not, I am surely gonna strangle them. I would never know from where to start, giving them details about everything and yeah, Andy would want to dance for some wacky kannada number.

#It would be a joy to meet my Chikku after all this time. There was a time when a month without seeing him would be highly unbearable for me. After all these months, pulling his nose would be quite a satisfaction for me. Would he still let me beat him? And wont I love to see the look on his face when I demand driving his new car?

#Meeting my Mamama (maternal granny) would be full of kisses. She always gives me lots of kisses and I simply adore her. Aww, I would call her much before that but meeting her in person would be simply great. Yeah, she will start on when I plan to marry topic.

#Going back to Tirthahalli would never be the same for me anymore. My Anama( paternal granny) passed away while I was here and never will I get a chance to see her ever again. Those memories will always be with me. I would miss her and I guess I would break down.

#How will it be to call all my friends, go to my school, my uni, meet my relatives? Will I be able to repeat the same stories without boredom? Will my tailor still have my dress measurements? (This got me worried; hope Vedas has a good collection)

#One important person I am already dying to meet has told me very sternly that I have to wait patiently till May. I would, with all my heart, to meet him. After all, I have waited long enough, kuch mahine aur sahi.


Well, just thinking about being home makes me delighted and honestly saying got a few stray tears too. I am sure that when I come back, I would have no regrets. It would be a blissful, delightful, wonderful and very much awaited home coming.


Flight tickets to India-$1200, Go-India Shopping-$2000, Singapore Transit-$1000, More Shopping-$500,
Homecoming- "Priceless" !!!

Dont be talking to a stranger

Today, I got a mail from HIM. After two long years of literally forgetting each others existence I get a cheerful mail from HIM asking me if I still remembered him. Now, I agree I have a bad memory, but I smiled, a warm smile, yes, not because I remembered HIM, because it flooded back a few strange memories.
After two long years.

During my third semester of MBA I had submitted a paper on Emerging role of psychotherapy in human resource management. I had worked myself and my Prof out on this one, making him proof read 3 times. Luckily for me, I was selected with 12 other students from all over India to present our papers in the International Conference held in Janson’s Institute in Coimbatore. We had some 60+ top notch Profs from premier institutes around the country for a complete 5 day conference.

Being just 12 in number, we students stuck our heads together trying to make sense of each others insanity. This institute was some 20 miles away from Coimbatore in a godforsaken place called Karumathampatti and our only source of entertainment was pulling each others leg. And man, when you have 4 wacky gals and 8 crazy guyz, we did have some madcap fun. We bunked sessions, we sneaked out late, and we escaped noon presentations.

For the late evenings, we usually had some small stage shows where anyone could display their talents. This was mega fun as many serious Profs gave us some really wonderful surprises. Many sang, some presented a skitor two, few danced, one played guitar, and many such chota-mota shows. The students usually took a back seat and hooted and whistled.

It was our first day at the confy and none of us knew each other. We did our “hi”, “bye”, “smile”, “cough” with grace, style and class. After all, we were the selected lot, hand picked and privileged to present our ‘I-don’t-know-what-the-heck-I-have-written’ kind of papers. In our initial invitation we were informed that each participating student had to give a culture show. I was ready with my tons of senti-ronewaali shaayris. And I had volunteered to be the compeer for all the evening shows.

Well, it was the first day we were ready of this talent ‘show’, giving nervous smiles at each other. For most of us, the last stage show was in school when we dressed in stupid dress for some equally dumb action songs for the annual day. And now, we were to perform, complete with audience. Next day we were expected to present our papers with sophistication and yeah, we were given marks on that for a winning trophy for our respective institutes. We were stressed enough at the first place, and we would have done fine without this talent charade.

Anyway, peanut size mortals have no say in such watermelon sized things. There was HIM, this guy from Delhi Uni, a tall, fair, handsome guy with real soft voice. Err, I must say he was outrageously cute.
*sorry, drool over Johnny boy for a sec*

And this guy was to dance for the hyper beats of “yanakoru girlfriend veenu” from the Tamil movie Boyz. Now, this guy does not know Tamil, nor do the rest of the crowd. He says he dint dance for ages since school and he is all nervous. I say, chill yaar, simply give yourself some volatile moves, no one understands it anyway.

So, we start the music, our boy starts to dance. Does it pretty well too. I am next on the line with my shaayri scripts, compeering notes and program list. All of sudden, he stops, misses a few steps, looks worried, walks coolly towards me, pulls me on the stage and continues dancing.

It was pretty filmy too, with my papers strewn on the floor, him and me danced to the tune of A R Rehman happily. None of us knew the steps, we dint match our steps either, I dint know the tunes of the song to top it, and I kept giggling. We kept the music & dance going till the end and few more from the crowd joined us. The crowd was laughing and cheering too. That was some talent show.

Later he said that he had forgotten the steps as he did not understand the lyrics. I was nearest to the stage and he hoped I would be sportive enough to join him. And yes, I did, and I enjoyed it every bit. And he dint wanna look like a fool all alone. Er, I excused him for that one. After the dance, I collected all my papers in a mess and carried out my senti-roonewaali shayris with some “wah wah”s.

But this incident was the best ice-breaker for us. We had total fun for the next 5 days, the twelve of us breaking into dance whenever we could. It was followed by an amazing weekend in Ooty with some street dancing too.

After the conference, each one had exchanged our email ids and decided to keep in touch with mails which we never did. After two years, I hardly remember their names forget the ids. But that dance will always be unforgettable.

His mailed said that he was cleaning his desk last night and he got the BOYZ cassette. He remembered me, hunted for the id and mailed me. That was truly sweet of him. It made my day. I was humming that tune all day long. Pity, I could not dance in the office.

Some strange incidents, some strange days, some strange people, some strange memories, make us happy in some strange ways.

And they make us smile.


(Hey AS, I have posted this in my bloggy as promised, now send me my $$$)

Somnacallism-'baatofying in the raat'

For those who are familiar with terms like Somnambulism and Soliloquy, please hold your mouse gently, move the cursor to the extreme top right and click on the red color cross button.

Thank You!!!

Ok, you guys who are still hanging here, lemme explain in muggle terms. It is nothing but sleep-walking and sleep-talking. It’s some state of mind where a muggle decides that he has had a heavy dinner and wants to take a quick walk in the unearthly hours of night or decides that he needs to address some topic of worldly importance at unworldly hours.

I learnt such very interesting things in my Psychotherapy days, wondering how people could get much more insane than me. Uh, I have to confess that I get pretty disoriented when I am awake, so the question of getting multi-level disoriented when I am asleep is as stupid as asking Mallika Sherawat to remove her clothes.

Yes, I get much disoriented, especially when I am engrossed in something. And if I am woken from deep slumber, I could scare the devils worth in you with my highly instable behaviors and talks. You might think I am high on a keg of beer. I don’t like beer anyway, I prefer Zinfandel.

But, junta who gave a gasp, not to worry, this does not happen often. I am hit with such bouts only when I am stressed or disturbed. Nope, I don’t walk around in my sleep, I just make random calls to people I know. Pretty cool uh?

Past few days have been very heavy on my tender shoulders and too much for my peanut butter brainy. He has been scribed for his worth. This leaves me drenched of all sensible thoughts, not that I have much of it anyway. Result: I have been sleep-calling.

Somnacallism= Somna-sleep; callism-calling disorder

I hope some board for mental health recognizes my humble contribution towards the study of sleep science and associated disorders and bestows a fancy title over me. Even a few million dollars will be accepted with grace.

I happened to have called my mom and a friend in last 2 days at unearthly hours (SD time) and have spoken to them in slumbers. I had no clue about these calls but did check my call accounts to actually trace that I did call.

The conversation went something like this (as told to me by them):

Call One
Time: app 4pm (Mlore) = 3.30am (SD)

Mom: hello
Me: hello ma, miss home a lot, I am coming back soon.
Mom:uh? Are you all right?
Me: I am sleeping
*hang*

Call Two
Time: app 5.30am (mlore) = 5am (SD)

Mom: hello
Me: what is for breakfast? I am sleeping, will call you later.
Mom: *^&^% ???
*hang*

Call Three
Time: app 6pm (blore) = 5.30 am (SD)

Friend: hello?
Me: I just remembered you, so called. Sleeping. Bye
Friend: err? %$*&^(&
*hang*

Some findings:

1. I guess I could be a good subject matter for my PhD studies. My thesis might be real interesting with random facts about myself.
2. I called my mom on Reliance account, which I always use to call home. I called her on her cell, with which I can conclude that I did have a sense of time. (Else, I usually call her on landline)
3. I called my friend on USP account which I use to call friends. This shows that I dialed all the pin codes perfectly even in my sleep.
4. My friend has to be grateful to me that remember him even in my sleep.
5. My mom better be proud that I like her cooking even in my sleep and dream about breakfast.
6. I am an eating glutton that I dream of food all the time.
7. I need to keep my mobile phone miles away from my reach to avoid such calls.
8. I should stop stressing myself at work and taking too many calls.
9. I miss home like hell.
10. I am perfectly insane.

Next time you get a call from me, please stop to check if I am baatofying in the raat.
SCARED?
*evil laughter*

(ok, a few bits were glamourified to get 'the' effect. I am not that bad, as yet)

(Un)conditioned Relations for me

I need to talk, yes, I really need to talk. It’s about relationships. It’s been in my mind for a real long time and has been gnawing at my poor brainy. So, I am just getting it out of my system. I suggest you not reading it for self sanity factor.

I usually avoid talking on these lines, and I rather discuss the GDP growth of Somalia, literary ratio of Meghalaya or even Mallika Sherawat’s sari collection. It’s just that when I talk about relations, I get raw and often a stray sigh escapes from deep within my hearts.

To tell about it, I have my masters in Human Relations and further a specialization in a certain critical area of human psychotherapy. I grew up learning the intricacies of relations, types, ways, methods, reasons and other micro molecule sized facts of building relations. I got pretty high scores in my exams too, which proves that I did have definite solid theory knowledge.

But, after living all these relations for years, trying to live up to expectations, trying to bond over distances, trying to save a few of them, trying to avoid ego conflicts, trying to compromise on few, I have come-up with my own relationship theory.

Eureka!!!

This makes my understanding of the human relations much simpler to understand and even better to practice. Forgetting all the mega sized flow chats on HR, I have only 2 types of relations.

1. Conditioned relations

These relations are basically forced on to us, by our self, by others or by circumstances. If given a chance, we would gladly wave a pleasant “goodbye” to such relations and take a walk. But most of the time, in the given circumstances and given obligations and pressures we give into such relations and try to get the best out of it.

Most of it might be a compromise, with constant urge to get out of it. We might be happy for sometime over a few things, but there is a hidden factor of disappointment or some untold dissatisfaction.

Think of a marriage one was forced into, think of a neighbor you are forced to live next to, think of a irritating relative you have to put-up with, think of that boss who makes your life a living hell, think of a mother-in-law who decides your every move.

Well, thinking about such relations without whom life would have been much pleasant, I can say that I try staying away from such relations. But, at times obligations and circumstances get better of me and I have to bear them. I am glad to have developed a defense mechanism of projecting my dis-pleasure about something or someone in a much sensible way. Like, hey, my bloggy.

Then, there is a constant fear of breaking such relations which might affect very badly. There is a constant pressure to avoid any complexities in the relations and most of the times, everything goes unspoken which leads to more tension and strain.

Such relations, for me are a considerable waste of time, energy and human emotions. Every relation has an emotional characteristic to it and such relations strips a person of his ability to be sensitive to a relation. He might even loose trust in relations and build a wall around him. A sensitive person might turn stone cold and devoid himself with other possibly fruitful relations.


2. Unconditioned relations

These are very pleasant relations where we are generally genuine self. These relations exist because we want them to exist. No pressures, no compromise, no suffering, but plain simple bonding. These relations are much simpler to understand and live and follow. Some of them don’t even have any hidden advantages or demands.

These are beautiful relations in terms of understanding and sharing. We often take such relations for granted and forget to acknowledge them. Often, we overlook these simple pleasures and search out for much complex meanings. We are ungrateful and we are ignorant.

If looked closely into our closest friends, our relations with them are mostly unconditioned. Most unlikely people bonded to have a long-lasting friendship. Few people whom we met for the first time as completely strangers, turned out to be buddies for lifetime. Some people whom we hardly know, we are most comfortable in their company.

We talk, we fight, we meet often, we are separated by distances, we never keep in touch, we stay next door, nothing material matters for unconditioned relations. All that matters is the bonding of being there because we want it. These are beautiful relations and instill an emotional variant in the individual. This gets stronger with time and enables a person to trust others.



I am glad that I have more of unconditioned relations which build my trust in human relations. These bonds are very simple, yet very mysterious.

I am not sure if this makes any sense, but for me, mera dil ka bhoj halka hua. When I have this gut feeling of wanting to write something, I simply have to type with feverish speed until the peanut brainy smiles showing all his bateesi, Colgate smile!

(BTW, those three fellas of mine were conditioned relations for me, but what the heck, I love them anyway.)

Life on break

There was this sweet little girl, pretty insane, definitely weird and highly demented. She always had two darling friends who stood by her all her life. They had a very interesting time together. All their life the three were inseparable. She loved them. They loved her.

Then one fine day, she was told that she will be going to a far away land. She was going alone. It was her first time, her very first step towards a real long life. She was scared, she was insecure, she was thrilled, she was proud, she was excited, and she was in tears.

Then she heard about this new fellow who promised her that he could be her good friend in that alien land. Her two friends and her all hugged him warmly. Very soon all the four became very good friends. They shared their joys, sorrows and their life. This new life was a piece of cake for them and the four sailed happily.

She felt very comforted with them, she felt secured and she belonged with them. Nothing, she thought, could ever be dearest to her than her 3 darling friends. They were her babies, her hopes, her desires, her reflections, and a part of herself.

Then, as time went by and she grew with time. She made new friends, she saw a different world, and she lived a different life. She became very busy with her work and she was drenched out of her energy. She missed her darlings, she wanted to be with them, and she wanted to talk to them, as much as they wanted her in their life.

But her three dear friends are still waiting for her, because she has promised them that she will be back. I will be back, to my darling friends, brainy, tanhayee and bloggy.