Monday, February 13, 2012

1Feb2012


1st Feb 2012
Very weird day.
To start with again I was late n felt guilty that handsome husband of geetu had to take an inside turn for me bcoz I cud not reach my pick up point on time, but that’s ok I have bigger tensions in life than to think about how to grab attention of geetu’s husband early morning at 8, when all 3 of us are enjoying this 2 min ride for different reason, before getting on the battleground to fight for our heavy day in office.
I have regular embarrassments in office, theres nothing new in it. It comes in various forms…physical (considering my figure), intellectual, technical (thanx to BB, tabs n wats app on mobile phones), professional since it’s a workplace. Not to forget each type has to be a public embarassement since I work in a corporate. And there is my regular audience, my colleagues, frnds and their frnds adding each passing day so that my frnds don’t have to take the pains to repeat the jokes cracked on me- they just have to introduce them to me (even my workstation would do for that matter). Next time onwards they can enjoy it firsthand.
But today was a weird day. My receptionist who happens to be in awe of me calls me up when I was  in middle of something important. Let me take time to express here what does ‘middle of something important’ means in corporate office. If you are planning your leave not looking at the calendar or your deadlines but studying your weekly canteen menu, if you are checking out new joinees list having photographs, finding out the most complicated excel sheet to keep open on ur PC for the whole day when u r busy in some other important thing, when u r trying to find the direct or inverse proportion of ur neighbour’s salary and job profile- then my dear friends you can proudly say ‘I am in middle of something important’.
So coming back to the point when I was ‘in middle of something important’ my receptionist called and said something which made me recheck my passport – my country of origin & my date of birth to confirm myself about my age.
She asked me to open YOU page on Mumbai Mirror and suggested me to read what was written in bold letters “Secrets of having that perfect Kiss” and a half size photo of a cute guy n very cute girl smooching. And below were written 10 so-called rather so –assumed secrets of a perfect kiss. I coolly ignored the page asking my receptionist what to read on that page but I guess this much humiliation was not enough for God (thru receptionist). She said ‘read it mam, its for your own good. You need it.’ I still tried to maintain my mental balance, don’t knw how much I succeeded but I told her that all this is crap and this just corrupts our mind and we should not believe it. It sounded like my Mom telling me the same things about the zee horror show when I was a kid. If only my mom knew that I still remember her words of wisdom, only the situation is different here, she would be so proud of me. But my receptionist would not give up and answers back ‘mam, that’s why your life is so dry and boring. Read it, its actually true and very helpful. It will spice up your life’.
 Thanks to corporate life there is constant flow of emails in the inbox and you have a perennial excuse of ‘I need to reply to a mail urgently, I’ll get back to you asap’. I did the same with my receptionist and kept down the phone.
But just like zee horror show music- aaaa….aaa…aaah ahah aaaaah aaaah…keeps haunting for days her words kept haunting my mind. To start with why she thinks my life is dry and boring. Just because I hear her desperate dream stories of having a bf doesn’t mean that my life is also the same or does not have any other mode of entertainment and even if it is the case, atleast she should not have problems with it- I am her only loyal audience.
Next in line of thoughts– is it that obvious that I need to read such articles? What makes her think that I never kissed in life or I am a bad kisser. Is she representing a secret group of boys whom I dated which I am not aware of? What makes her think that such articles would help me, do I look that desperate? Does she thinks I am a teenager and supposed to tear of that article, take it to the washroom and giggle with her over it?? Does she thinks at all???
Last one being closest to reality, I believed that and thought about this page. This You page claims to introduce you to your innerself, desires, laws of nature but actually it just tests your patience for tolerating such non sense and introduces to other pervert people who are in quest for their innerself (new limits of pervertness)
With all such thoughts hovering over my mind, whole day I tried hard not to think about HIM. I kept myself busy with all the possible important work I could do right from cleaning my desktop screen to my laptop bag, from getting the Xerox of a document which belonged to another department to going to  washroom every hr (without the newspaper cutting).
Finally it was hour of freedom and I retired myself to the window seat of our AC coach on my way back home. Since I had  nothing to do so-called productive work which I do in office, I was left with only the traffic view outside, honking horns and radio music to my rescue. But before I could change the channel the damage was already done. I heard it….Dil ko tumse pyaar hua, pehli baar hua ,tumse pyar hua….Main bhi aashiq yaar hua, pehli baar hua, tumse pyaar hua…..
I could not change the channel, my fingers refused to move. I could not hear the horns, could not see the traffic outside. Was not sure if the bus was even moving. The only thing I could see was memories of  that day……

His presence, or the thoughts of it just froze me. I was not sure whether he is in real or I am done hallucinating. There was a constant buzz on my facebook messenger which i safely ignored. I approached him, he smiled at me , and I for once, was just emotionless. The guy was perfect, as if made in heaven, and delivered at doorsteps. His calling my name  , ringed a thousand bells in my ears. It was as pure as temple bells or jingle rhyme. He escorted me out , and I had no clue when i surrendered to the stranger. I am very sure I didn't eat well , I drank same thing as he did. He dropped me back home, but then as a magnet we stuck together. The newspaper running in my mind, and receptionist holding it in front of my eyes , broke the two sets of lips which were one for a couple of minutes. He smiled and sped off on his bike and I slept off as a princess kissed by prince





Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Re: Madrasan girl

Not so Dear Madrasan ,
It has been a while I didn't smell your "Chameli ka tel", which in itself is such an incentive for kicking you out of my life. Nonetheless, the letter itself stinks like your attitude. I have tried so much to spend nice time with you, but your appa calling you right at 7 PM, inquiring about your presence makes me laugh. Why is it that you like the state you live  in, always keep on fighting , as you do with all your friends.
I never ever promised to marry you or stay with you. You fought with your family over small issues, and your friends dumped you out of your PG (since you smelled  bad and never spent a penny trying to purchase a perfume).The coconut oil in your head stinks, and its high time you realize that. I was not fond of strong perfumes, but your stinking hair made me use them.  It's insane to listen to your singing Yenglish yall day lang. If you could ever get your intelligence you gained when you 5 years old to your dressing sense. You talk of parents when you don't even know how to speak Hindi. You don't consider to be part of India, and Sri Lankans threw you out a long time back.
It's not the skin color that makes you look pathetic, neither is your toilet-brush shaped hair nor the Big Bulbs (as headlights) in middle of face. The fact that you think you are the most superior even when you know you are not even eligible to compete with kid in North India. Are you smarter than 5th grade, must be in your state, because nowhere in India would you be able to prove it.
As you mentioned in your letter that your daddy is a loser, wears a toddler-wipe while your mom wears pant, not necessarily means it is an indication of superior homestyle. It means your daddy (hope you did not mean all males in your state) is a sissy boy who needs approval from his wife all the time, while dis-regards his mom. I am glad I threw you out of my life like my servants take care of trash. Don't feel bad if your dad is doing the toilet in your home, that is exactly what a punishment should be for marrying your mom.
Well you start comparing Hema Malini to Priyanka Chopra, consider Lara Dutta or Diya Mirza. Beauty is not skin deep, and with hypocrite nature you are blessed with, a garbage mind behind a trash face would leave no options left but to compare Aishwarya or Hema , who both eventually married north Indians.
Getting into food habits, your life starts and ends with coconut. You illustrated a good use of it in your previous letter, which is what must be demonstrated to you in your domestic life. When your little sister failed to do homework , she would get a coconut from the Lady who wears the pants.
I never lured you in my life. You were desperate trying to find someone who can marry. Why did you not find someone like your daddy who would go around and clean toilets for you.For the simple reason we understand what is dignity, respect and understand "Hindi". Please don't throw it off. I know you will eventually marry your mama (maternal uncle) . So take a chill pill ( coconut water for you), pack your bags and go back to your villager where your superior mom and sissy daddy will marry you off to an old relative.

Happy to kick you off my life,
North Indian boy

Monday, May 16, 2011

The short Story

The best part about morning today is the fresh fragrance of burnt old Monday, and the week to follow. I am forced to think about a better holiday planner than our predecessors think of. How about Wednesdays off in addition to Weekends. Would it not make a long week , a short and sweet story