I recently joined an online writing community which had an exercise to start a story with the sentence..."All men are slime" said the...This is my entry
"All men are slime," said the little voice in my head.
"I repeat all men are slime!" it went on and on getting louder and louder.
"No!No!NO! He is not...."
I screamed out and got up with a start. I was sweating profusely. I might have fallen asleep. Surely, it was all a bad dream. Surely, he had not said what I think I had heard him say – that he did not love me anymore. He could not. How could he? It had to be a dream. There was no way he could have said that he was leaving me. It was a dream. I was sure of it. I was wrong.
He had said all those hurtful things and more. I had kept staring at him not quite knowing what to say as word after hurtful word had tumbled out his mouth, as if he had been holding them in for a long time and could not wait to spit them out. He had kept on talking and I had kept on staring. He kept on asking me to say something but I had not idea what to say. What do you say to a man you had loved for the better part of your life when he claims that he was mistaken to think that he was ever in love with you? What do you say to a man who tells you that what had been sacred to you all your adult life was a noose around his neck? He walked out with a “I can't bear to be around you anymore!” I kept looking at his receding back - kept hoping that he would turn back, break into a smile and tell me it was all a joke – a bad one, but nevertheless a joke. He did not.
I sat there staring at the door all day, waiting for it to open, waiting for his big frame to burst through and crush me with his embrace while whispering in my ear how wrong he had been in thinking that he could live without me, asking me for forgiveness, begging me for another chance. Like he had done so many other times when he had left in a huff for such trivial things like the food being too salty or the room not being clean enough. In a minute the door would open and he would walk in. The door stayed closed.
I don't know when I fell back asleep, but the next time I got up it was to the ringing of the telephone. I lunged for it, about a 100% sure that he was calling. How stupid I had been to think that he had actually walked out of my life. Of course not! He loved me far too much to hurt me like that. Something must have possessed him to act so out of character. Something that allowed him to forget how much we had been through to be together. How I had gone against my whole family to be with him. How I had ignored their warnings, that he was after my money and nothing else. I had looked my parents straight in the eye and declared that they could neither stop me from getting married to him nor could they stop me from claiming my inheritance. I had walked out of 'their' home to 'ours', one hand in his hand and the other holding the inheritance documents. Surely he could not forget what all I had given up. He was calling to tell me just that. I picked up the receiver ready to give him another chance. "Hello" It was not him.
I found myself staring at the phone after that - willing it to ring again, willing it to be him telling me that he had made a huge mistake and that he was heading back home. A home we had made for so many years. Just him and me. He did not want any children. I aborted my first child after he told me how he did not think he could be a good father. I never broached the topic again - I did not want to pressure him into doing anything he did not want to. Yes, I loved children, but I loved him above everything else, loved my life with him. There was no way he could have ended it all with a few words. Surely, one 2-minute monologue could not end all that, could it? Of course, not. The phone would ring any time now. It did not.
I sat up bolt upright as a brilliant idea hit me. Why should I wait for his call? What was stopping me from calling him? Maybe he was feeling too ashamed to talk to me after what he had said, too embarrassed to apologize. He must be waiting for my call. Waiting for me to set things right like I always had in the past. Of course, that was it. He was just waiting for me to take the first step. How could I have been such an idiot after knowing him so well. Didn't I know that he was the kind of man who wanted his woman to take charge? Like I had taken charge of almost everything in the years we had been together. Taken charge of running the household after he had time and again failed to keep a job, taken charge of bailing him out of the innumerable brawls he would get himself into with alarming regularity, taking charge of everything when he had gone to pieces when his parents had perished in an accident, taken charge of nursing him back to health when he had taken a drug overdose and had almost died, taken charge of making sure that he felt like a king after he had driven himself into a depression...the list was endless. I called him.
"Hello?" I heard a small girl's voice at the other end.
"Who...Who's this?" I whimpered, my heartbeat almost as loud as my voice.
"Dad...I think it's for you!"
"How many times do I need to tell you not to pick my phone...!" I heard his voice as the phone switched off with a click.
Maybe I had dialed a wrong number...surely I had...but that was his voice. Maybe I am imagining things...maybe he's at a friend's place...surely he is.
*The End*
Friday, December 16, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
I would never hurt you, my love! (Part 1)
No coffee mug in hand, no newspaper or book lying nearby, no trace of any hot pakoras, no decade old romantic Bollywood songs playing in the background, no pen to jot down thoughts, no nothing to catch her dreams – she stood there looking out while the rain did its thing. She closed her eyes waiting for the soothing feeling one gets whilst watching or listening to the soft pitter patter of the raindrops to overwhelm her. Nothing came. Not even tears. The shock of the earlier day did not seem to have worn out yet. She wondered if it ever would. The phone was ringing. She knew who it well could be – the last person she wanted to speak with. He always called her when it rained. The ringing of the phone was persistent. She was too.
She could not wait for the phone to ring. But it did. It always did. She smiled. This is what fairy tales are made of and the best part was that she was the fairy. At least, he made her feel like one. She picked it up putting the piping hot coffee next to the pakoras. The book fell down from her lap as she reached out for the phone. She used the remote to put the volume down on her all time favorite Hindi Song – 'Suraj Hua Madhyam'. Her pen she still held in her hand as she picked the receiver up.
“What are you doing, my love?” He asked.
“Take a guess!”
“Coffee, pakoras, music, books, thoughts and dreams?”
“You guess right!”
“So what were you thinking of just now?”
“That you would call me any instant!”
“So what were you dreaming about?”
“How good it would be to have you next to me!”
“OK!”
“OK ..what?”
“Be ready to catch your dream....”
She could hear the door open. She resisted the urge to turn. She heard his footsteps. She still resisted the urge to turn. She marveled that the urge still existed. She felt his presence. Her eyes were still closed. He walked nearer. She felt like running away. He hugged her from behind. She did not run away.
“Thank you!” He murmured as he buried his head in her hair.
She felt the same response to him as she always did. It devastated her.
“You know I never meant to hurt you. You know how much I love you!'
That's when the tears started. They came in torrents. She could not breathe as the hiccups choked here. She turned to face him as he hugged her tighter. She winced from the pain.
“Where is my cup of coffee?”
“I had no idea you would be here...!”
“I asked you to be ready to catch your dream and here I am...”
“What did you do?Fly?!”
“Something like that...!”
“I don't believe this...”
“Don't believe what?”
“That you can go to these lengths...”
“Believe it my love, believe it.!”
She still could not believe it. How could everything be so normal? As if nothing had occurred. As if this was a day like any other day. Not only was he the same, she seemed to be the same too. This was not how it was supposed to be, was it? Shouldn't something be different. He was still holding her.
“Where is my cup of coffee?”. She felt the normalcy of the statement like a blow. She stepped away from his embrace. He looked at her – searching. She walked to the kitchen and started to make two cups of coffee. The slight doubt in his look gave away to relief.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking the mugs out!”
“I will do it...”
“No...let me”
“Why? You want to help me?”
“Yes! But even more so I want to be around you.”
“Don't spoil me!”
“But I want to!”
She took the mugs out. She heard 'Suraj Hua Madhyam' lyrics fill the air. He seemed to have walked over to the CD Player and put it on. He started walking towards her carrying the book she had been reading.
“How many times have you played the song today?”
“Maybe a couple...”
“Just a couple?”
“OK truth be told, I did not count!”
She breathed in deeply. She did not want to hear that song. She wished it would stop playing...just like she wished that yesterday had never happened. Both stayed their course. She used to remote to switch the song off. But what was she going to do about the day before – there was no switch to turn it off. To erase it completely.
“So you just use the remote to play and replay it over and over again?”
“Yes I do!”
“You are such a romantic!”
“Yep a hopeless one at that!”
“That's funny!”
“What's funny about it?”
“That you could be like this...”
“What do you mean!”
“Nothing my love”
“Are you making fun of me!”
“No..No...”
“You are!”
“Well if you think so...maybe I am!”
“Ouch! That hurt!”
“I am sorry my love, you know I would never hurt you. Don't you?”
Yeah right! What a bunch of baloney.
“You know I would never hurt you, my love!” he said as he handed the book to her.
She could not wait for the phone to ring. But it did. It always did. She smiled. This is what fairy tales are made of and the best part was that she was the fairy. At least, he made her feel like one. She picked it up putting the piping hot coffee next to the pakoras. The book fell down from her lap as she reached out for the phone. She used the remote to put the volume down on her all time favorite Hindi Song – 'Suraj Hua Madhyam'. Her pen she still held in her hand as she picked the receiver up.
“What are you doing, my love?” He asked.
“Take a guess!”
“Coffee, pakoras, music, books, thoughts and dreams?”
“You guess right!”
“So what were you thinking of just now?”
“That you would call me any instant!”
“So what were you dreaming about?”
“How good it would be to have you next to me!”
“OK!”
“OK ..what?”
“Be ready to catch your dream....”
She could hear the door open. She resisted the urge to turn. She heard his footsteps. She still resisted the urge to turn. She marveled that the urge still existed. She felt his presence. Her eyes were still closed. He walked nearer. She felt like running away. He hugged her from behind. She did not run away.
“Thank you!” He murmured as he buried his head in her hair.
She felt the same response to him as she always did. It devastated her.
“You know I never meant to hurt you. You know how much I love you!'
That's when the tears started. They came in torrents. She could not breathe as the hiccups choked here. She turned to face him as he hugged her tighter. She winced from the pain.
“Where is my cup of coffee?”
“I had no idea you would be here...!”
“I asked you to be ready to catch your dream and here I am...”
“What did you do?Fly?!”
“Something like that...!”
“I don't believe this...”
“Don't believe what?”
“That you can go to these lengths...”
“Believe it my love, believe it.!”
She still could not believe it. How could everything be so normal? As if nothing had occurred. As if this was a day like any other day. Not only was he the same, she seemed to be the same too. This was not how it was supposed to be, was it? Shouldn't something be different. He was still holding her.
“Where is my cup of coffee?”. She felt the normalcy of the statement like a blow. She stepped away from his embrace. He looked at her – searching. She walked to the kitchen and started to make two cups of coffee. The slight doubt in his look gave away to relief.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking the mugs out!”
“I will do it...”
“No...let me”
“Why? You want to help me?”
“Yes! But even more so I want to be around you.”
“Don't spoil me!”
“But I want to!”
She took the mugs out. She heard 'Suraj Hua Madhyam' lyrics fill the air. He seemed to have walked over to the CD Player and put it on. He started walking towards her carrying the book she had been reading.
“How many times have you played the song today?”
“Maybe a couple...”
“Just a couple?”
“OK truth be told, I did not count!”
She breathed in deeply. She did not want to hear that song. She wished it would stop playing...just like she wished that yesterday had never happened. Both stayed their course. She used to remote to switch the song off. But what was she going to do about the day before – there was no switch to turn it off. To erase it completely.
“So you just use the remote to play and replay it over and over again?”
“Yes I do!”
“You are such a romantic!”
“Yep a hopeless one at that!”
“That's funny!”
“What's funny about it?”
“That you could be like this...”
“What do you mean!”
“Nothing my love”
“Are you making fun of me!”
“No..No...”
“You are!”
“Well if you think so...maybe I am!”
“Ouch! That hurt!”
“I am sorry my love, you know I would never hurt you. Don't you?”
Yeah right! What a bunch of baloney.
“You know I would never hurt you, my love!” he said as he handed the book to her.
Friday, July 29, 2011
There's a party going on in my stomach...
...that's how my son responded when I asked him how he had liked his favorite egg sandwich that I had made for him. I laughed when he said that and like all of us mothers who think the world is at their feet when their little one)or big one for that matter) does something they think is either oh so smart, oh so cute, oh so good, oh so out of this work, oh so rocket scientistic etc etc even if it is something like burping on their own - I thought the same. What a witty intelligent kid this handsome kid (yes once again belong to the category of mom's who think their son is the best looking kid ever) is! I was smiling ear to ear, ready to record in the blog of how no other kid can come close to my Einstein, Salman Khan(looks only pls...without the height impediment of course), Sachin Tendulkar(without the height impediment again ...gosh why are all our heroes in the 'shuru hothe hi khatam ho jaate category') rolled into one.
Later I hear Shaggy (of Scooby-Doo fame) saying something similar. All my good intentions of bragging and repeating the story about 5 times to everyone who is remotely connected to me in any way were punctured sparing them the agony of pretending to share my enthusiasm and most importantly agreeing with me. *Sigh*.
Then a brilliant idea hits me. I should just take another approach - how he so intelligently picks up the best thing to say - how witty he is - how smart, how very....you get the point? ;-)
Later I hear Shaggy (of Scooby-Doo fame) saying something similar. All my good intentions of bragging and repeating the story about 5 times to everyone who is remotely connected to me in any way were punctured sparing them the agony of pretending to share my enthusiasm and most importantly agreeing with me. *Sigh*.
Then a brilliant idea hits me. I should just take another approach - how he so intelligently picks up the best thing to say - how witty he is - how smart, how very....you get the point? ;-)
TGIF
It's friday! Yaaay! Like the millions of others who work a job to feed the paapi pet, I rejoice when the best day of the week Dawns. There is a spring in the step and enthu in the outlook as you tackle Friday knowing well that the end of it all you will be rewarded with a couple of days that you don't need to think about a lot of things you mostly don't want to think about most of the time. Work being foremost amongst them. There was a time I used to enjoy my work - love doing what I did - tackling new problems - working out best solutions and knowing that I was good at what I did. I still do some of the times, but most of the times I see myself waiting to wiggle out of it. Maybe it is working from home Syndrome - wherein you find yourself taking a lot breaks and also feel like you are working almost all the time to make amends for the breaks taken. There is always something left to do. And I have lately not been liking it that somewhere lurking in my brain is the module I needed to finish but did not get time to test thoroughly. I know some of us can just put niggles aside and get on with life, but unfortunately me not being one of them, I find myself worrying about it unconciously all the time. I could be most happy if I did not have work to worry me and I keep thinking how wonderful it would be to not work at all. Maybe not as fun as I am making it out to be. I do enjoy the challenge that work provides, the discipline it requires and the neccessity to learn new things. (which I would not do otherwise for sure). Left alone with nothing, I do feel the mind resembles a devil's workshop but at the same time the possibilities it presents is exciting. I know I am going to explore that route but for now there are miles to go before I sleep - so I will just keep counting them knowing that they are going down - mile by significant mile!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Good News...Bad News
Good News: I was told by a self proclaimed psychic that I am a free spirit!
Bad News: She says my daughter is one too !
I am worried already ;-)
Bad News: She says my daughter is one too !
I am worried already ;-)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Mind and Matter
One of the best things I did for myself the past few months has been to enroll in a morning exercise class. One fine day past your 30s it hits you that you are aging. You look around to see what you could do to reverse this process. You discover pretty fast that there is not really much you could do to reverse or stop the process but there are somethings that could be done that definitely slow the fast hurtling age of a truck down.
One of the first things you discover that aids this trying to break hard on the age accelerator is eating well. This is a great challenge especially where I live. Even to eat a simple thing like an apple or to drink a glass of milk, one has to go through a rigorous process of determining if this is actually good for you. For a long time I used to think that nothing was better. Alas! I did not know about genetic modification or pesticides that get absorbed or cows that are fed growth hormones. Also did not know that eating rice is like taking sugar by the spoonfuls. So started the research, looking for advice and generally making modifications to the way you eat. Though not the easiest things to do (and quite expensive I might add) this was doable.
The difficult part was taking time out to exercise, which is the second on the list of the essential things to do. Not only do you find exercise cumbersome, but once you have let yourself go without exercising for so many years, the creaks and the leaks discourage you big time. Sure, I have started to try to fall into a routine - trying to work on an elliptical, cycling early in the morning, late evening walks and so on. But none stayed more than at the most a couple of months. So my husband wasn't very much thrilled when I decided to join he early morning gym class, coz he did not have the faith that I would stick to it. Neither did I! The class met at 5:15. That meant I had to get up around 4:30. Considering that I would never go to sleep before midnight this was quite a challenge. Already, I was setting myself up to fail.
With nothing to loose, except my extra pounds, I started on it. I was promised the moon if I was disciplined. I was happy and I worked hard. Eating habits were easier to change once you were working so hard to shed those calories you had thoughtlessly gulped down a day earlier. Slowly, but surely I was getting fitter and I loved the feeling. I have always been an athlete in my school and college days. So running and moving come naturally to me. The one thing that held me back was always my stamina. Simply put, I did not have much of it. I would be huffing and puffing in no time at all. Also would get a stitch in the side and that would slow my progress big time. Running, walking or exercising for more than 30 minutes would drain me completely and I would struggle to keep up.
As we worked out through the winter, slowly but surely I was getting trained to not loose steam quick. Come summer and the goal was to go running/walking outside for an hour. I was not very much looking forward to it, because I had not tried to push my body in that way. A couple of walks and I realized I was getting much better. I was actually staying in the foremost group. That felt so good. That I was able to do it. That I was able to walk/run and do 4 miles in an hour without pushing myself too much.
Yesterday I got the pleasantest surprise when I realized that I finished first in our group and what more I could have gone longer without feeling like lying on the ground and dying! My coach called me her poster girl because I am fairly new to this exercise program. When someone asked how I was able to do it so effortlessly she replied for me saying - she has a determined head on her shoulders. I always knew that I had one but to have a body that seems to be complementing it and not giving up in the middle is truly a wonderful feeling.I realize now that the challenge is not putting mind over matter but putting mind and matter together and that seems to be coming along beautifully! 5 miles an hour here I come!
One of the first things you discover that aids this trying to break hard on the age accelerator is eating well. This is a great challenge especially where I live. Even to eat a simple thing like an apple or to drink a glass of milk, one has to go through a rigorous process of determining if this is actually good for you. For a long time I used to think that nothing was better. Alas! I did not know about genetic modification or pesticides that get absorbed or cows that are fed growth hormones. Also did not know that eating rice is like taking sugar by the spoonfuls. So started the research, looking for advice and generally making modifications to the way you eat. Though not the easiest things to do (and quite expensive I might add) this was doable.
The difficult part was taking time out to exercise, which is the second on the list of the essential things to do. Not only do you find exercise cumbersome, but once you have let yourself go without exercising for so many years, the creaks and the leaks discourage you big time. Sure, I have started to try to fall into a routine - trying to work on an elliptical, cycling early in the morning, late evening walks and so on. But none stayed more than at the most a couple of months. So my husband wasn't very much thrilled when I decided to join he early morning gym class, coz he did not have the faith that I would stick to it. Neither did I! The class met at 5:15. That meant I had to get up around 4:30. Considering that I would never go to sleep before midnight this was quite a challenge. Already, I was setting myself up to fail.
With nothing to loose, except my extra pounds, I started on it. I was promised the moon if I was disciplined. I was happy and I worked hard. Eating habits were easier to change once you were working so hard to shed those calories you had thoughtlessly gulped down a day earlier. Slowly, but surely I was getting fitter and I loved the feeling. I have always been an athlete in my school and college days. So running and moving come naturally to me. The one thing that held me back was always my stamina. Simply put, I did not have much of it. I would be huffing and puffing in no time at all. Also would get a stitch in the side and that would slow my progress big time. Running, walking or exercising for more than 30 minutes would drain me completely and I would struggle to keep up.
As we worked out through the winter, slowly but surely I was getting trained to not loose steam quick. Come summer and the goal was to go running/walking outside for an hour. I was not very much looking forward to it, because I had not tried to push my body in that way. A couple of walks and I realized I was getting much better. I was actually staying in the foremost group. That felt so good. That I was able to do it. That I was able to walk/run and do 4 miles in an hour without pushing myself too much.
Yesterday I got the pleasantest surprise when I realized that I finished first in our group and what more I could have gone longer without feeling like lying on the ground and dying! My coach called me her poster girl because I am fairly new to this exercise program. When someone asked how I was able to do it so effortlessly she replied for me saying - she has a determined head on her shoulders. I always knew that I had one but to have a body that seems to be complementing it and not giving up in the middle is truly a wonderful feeling.I realize now that the challenge is not putting mind over matter but putting mind and matter together and that seems to be coming along beautifully! 5 miles an hour here I come!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Her Thoughts
She did not quite know how to think of him - but she did think of him a lot. All the times they had spent together and all the times they had not. She'd laugh at some of the memories and cringe at some of them. At the end of it all, her eyes would be moist. Well, frankly there was no end, because she thought about him endlessly. No matter how much she tried to divert her attention to the mundane tasks of everyday living, she would find herself thinking of him through it all. Earlier it used to surprise her that whenever she paid attention to what she was thinking, she would find him. Sometimes overwhelming her thoughts and sometimes lurking in the background. But he was there - always there. There had been a time when she had seriously tried to disassociate her thoughts with their focal point. She gave up when she realized the effort was draining her more than doing anything else. He still stayed there. In the middle of her thoughts as her life revolved more and more away from him. She marveled at the feeling sometimes. How could one be so connected to a person who they were not associated with any way except in the far past? Yet, there he was, above everything else, always there. Gradually she stopped analyzing the whys, hows and why not's and just went along with whatever came to her mind. Gradually her memories began to manifest themselves in tangible ways. She could hear him telling her that he loved her, she could feel his hand holding hers, she could feel his caresses, she could smell his presence....there were so many things. She carried him with her. The burden became lighter as she gave up on things that were not related to him. In the beginning when life held her in it grip, she felt like she would choke under the burden. But as she gingerly took steps away from life, the weight became more of a necessity. She created a void so that it could be filled with what she could not get away from. It was easier to give up on life and she did. Slowly but surely. Did that make her happy? She was not sure. Happiness was a thing of the past. She did not even know if she had ever felt true happiness. Even if she had, it had been so long ago, she had forgotten everything about it. She asked herself sometimes what would make her happy? His presence? Him being a part of her life like he had been once? She was not sure. Memories tend to soak up the good times while softening the impact of the bad ones. Reality blurred in her mind and she knew it. There were so many things. There was love of course but with it came a lot of other things. Things that managed to make life take on a course that seemed to suggest that love alone was not enough. If only she had believed..he had believed..they had believed that love was enough. But they had not. He had not. His uneasiness used to puzzle her. Ultimately it destroyed her trust. She could not take the risk of loving him all her life. She did not. He had walked off. Relieved? She was not sure. But he had walked off easily. She felt happy to have taken that decision. A man who could leave her so easily and never look back was not worth his presence. Yes he was best relegated to a place where he could do no harm. Where he could be controlled. Where his image could be distorted to fit whatever image she wanted of him. Where he could be God sometimes and the evil incarnate when she felt like it. Yes it was easier to live with him in her thoughts, than to actually live with him. She smiled. Finally! She had sorted him out! Sorted her thoughts out. It was time to move on.
Random thoughts
Listening to Romantic Hindi Songs moves me to start writing all those love stories I used to write so so long ago. Guess I am going to be a die-hard romantic till the day I die. Don't know if that is a good or a bad thing. I enjoy writing so much. I wish I was more disciplined about it. So many wishes, so little time!
One of the funniest moment came this week when my 5 year old son runs up to me while playing with his new playmate (neighbor's 5 year old grand daughter), huff, puffs and in his characteristic way says - "TT (his 3 year old bro) is saying bad stuff to us!" Apparently my 3 year old had run to the fence and watching them play had started shouting apparently to be let in and this is how my 5 year old intreprets it! Ah! Good times to come.
One of the funniest moment came this week when my 5 year old son runs up to me while playing with his new playmate (neighbor's 5 year old grand daughter), huff, puffs and in his characteristic way says - "TT (his 3 year old bro) is saying bad stuff to us!" Apparently my 3 year old had run to the fence and watching them play had started shouting apparently to be let in and this is how my 5 year old intreprets it! Ah! Good times to come.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The loner - Conclusion
Maybe I was too hard on him, I thought as I drove back to my nest. I was surprised that I was thinking about someone after about 15 minutes after I had met them. Generally it takes me about 2 minutes to wipe all the unpleasantness associated with interacting with someone.
"No" I had answered tersely. I found his jaw drop - don't think he was used to being rejected - so devastatingly good looking was he. Yes, his good looks did affect for me for like 35 seconds - the "Yes" had almost slipped out in those 34 seconds, before I willed myself to say a "No". Yes, it had taken all my will power but I was sure I had done something that was not done to this Greek God ever. I wondered what had attracted him to me. I was easily not one of the best looking of the female species. In fact if I could rate myself, I would hover myself in the area of less than average to plain ugly with emphasis on the later.
My mother had lamented more than once on my looks or rather lack of it and had even attributed my being a loner to it. I would say it was a classic case of giving more credit than is due. I paid no attention to how I looked. As long as I was not wearing torn clothes and did not smell like I had just stepped out of the gutter, I was fine. In fact I loved being plain, it removed a lot of fuss around me. I could walk in the middle of the road and be virtually un-noticeable. That was exactly how I had wanted my life to be - void of any distractions. As was usual, I had not ever denied nor confirmed my mom's expert analysis of the situation!
I closed the book I had been intently poring on. If only that damn librarian had allowed me to check that book out, I would have been spared of this torture. Damn, Damn, Damn! If only that mand had left me alone for a few more minutes, my research would have been done and I would have been sleeping peacefully like a baby. I loathed him. And that was the beginning and end of my love story - it had lasted more than a couple of hours. Enough to jolt me a little, but satisfying that I had passed an unexpected test of my innate character. That marked the beginning of another love story - one where I loved myself and who I was. The best love story of all because you control it and you have power over you. It boggles my mind how an individual can not only transfer the power over self to another individual so easily, but also fall head over heels to do that!
The only other time my mom had incited more than a dull stare in her direction apart from when she was dying was when she wondered about my marriage. Her opinion was that all good girls get married. All the self content smugness in her vanished when I retorted back with - "Well Ma, I am not a good girl!" The subject of marriage was never brought up again. Yes, I had a knack of making life give me what I wanted. No wonder I was in love with myself!
This knack not only made me a narcissist but also had other effects on my life. Love and I don't just mean the romantic kind of love - binds you, enslaves you and effectively eats away at your roots - slowy but surely erodes your individuality. Conciously and/or unconciously you tend to behave in a certain way that impresses the one that you love - you are a different person when you are with your mom, a different person with your lover, a completely different one with your friends and most certainly an ass with your kids you can't just stay true to your emotions and ambitions. If you do then you are termed a selfish person who cannot see beyong oneself, who does not care about anyone else..blah blah and more blah blah. I don't understand the logic in not being the #1 person in your own life! The whole play of a guilty conscience comes into the picture and if not the relationships, then this tumult within oneself will steam roll you into submission- to act according to the norms of the society - to take care of your loved ones, more than yourself! I have seen this happen with people around me who gradually loose their focus and a person who once held a lot of promise just withers away in the face of these emotional connections. To me they bring nothing but ruin to oneself and since I have already established the fact that I love myself, I have stayed away from these banalities called relationships all my life.
I have and still scoff at people who have questioned the purpose of my existence! What does she get out of life being all by herself. Who is there to celebrate her successes and who is there to share her joys and sorrows? Such a loner, how could she be happy? While I welcome their concern (NOT!), I would love to sock their concerned jaws with a blow that would wipe away all their silly poking into other people's lives. But to answer them I would say - nothing gives me more satisfaction than overcoming an obstacle all by myself. Even if I did not, I could just get up and try again or give up or whatever. I definitely don't need someone to pick me up, goad me to go on and then watch me fall. I'd rather fall, get up myself and do whatever I feel like doing - not do it for the sake of someone who needs me to be strong. I don't want to give anyone the satisfaciton of sharing my successes. They are all mine and I am mighty proud of them. So also my failures. I can't blame anyone except myself and that makes me try harder to overcome them.
I looked down from my book. The questionnaire. I had completely forgotten about it. I had refused the interview, so they had sent me this form.
How does it feel to be running for the position of the most powerful person in the world? Pretty good - I jotted down.
Are you confident you are going to win? Yes.
Being on top sometimes can be lonely. How does it feel up there? Awesome..
You are accused of being a loner. Are you? Yes.
Who or what do you attribute your success to? Me being a loner!
I switched off the TV. It isn't fun to watch myself being flanked by almost every important personality in the world! No matter who you are surrounded by its pretty nauseating to be in the midst of so many people.
**The End**
"No" I had answered tersely. I found his jaw drop - don't think he was used to being rejected - so devastatingly good looking was he. Yes, his good looks did affect for me for like 35 seconds - the "Yes" had almost slipped out in those 34 seconds, before I willed myself to say a "No". Yes, it had taken all my will power but I was sure I had done something that was not done to this Greek God ever. I wondered what had attracted him to me. I was easily not one of the best looking of the female species. In fact if I could rate myself, I would hover myself in the area of less than average to plain ugly with emphasis on the later.
My mother had lamented more than once on my looks or rather lack of it and had even attributed my being a loner to it. I would say it was a classic case of giving more credit than is due. I paid no attention to how I looked. As long as I was not wearing torn clothes and did not smell like I had just stepped out of the gutter, I was fine. In fact I loved being plain, it removed a lot of fuss around me. I could walk in the middle of the road and be virtually un-noticeable. That was exactly how I had wanted my life to be - void of any distractions. As was usual, I had not ever denied nor confirmed my mom's expert analysis of the situation!
I closed the book I had been intently poring on. If only that damn librarian had allowed me to check that book out, I would have been spared of this torture. Damn, Damn, Damn! If only that mand had left me alone for a few more minutes, my research would have been done and I would have been sleeping peacefully like a baby. I loathed him. And that was the beginning and end of my love story - it had lasted more than a couple of hours. Enough to jolt me a little, but satisfying that I had passed an unexpected test of my innate character. That marked the beginning of another love story - one where I loved myself and who I was. The best love story of all because you control it and you have power over you. It boggles my mind how an individual can not only transfer the power over self to another individual so easily, but also fall head over heels to do that!
The only other time my mom had incited more than a dull stare in her direction apart from when she was dying was when she wondered about my marriage. Her opinion was that all good girls get married. All the self content smugness in her vanished when I retorted back with - "Well Ma, I am not a good girl!" The subject of marriage was never brought up again. Yes, I had a knack of making life give me what I wanted. No wonder I was in love with myself!
This knack not only made me a narcissist but also had other effects on my life. Love and I don't just mean the romantic kind of love - binds you, enslaves you and effectively eats away at your roots - slowy but surely erodes your individuality. Conciously and/or unconciously you tend to behave in a certain way that impresses the one that you love - you are a different person when you are with your mom, a different person with your lover, a completely different one with your friends and most certainly an ass with your kids you can't just stay true to your emotions and ambitions. If you do then you are termed a selfish person who cannot see beyong oneself, who does not care about anyone else..blah blah and more blah blah. I don't understand the logic in not being the #1 person in your own life! The whole play of a guilty conscience comes into the picture and if not the relationships, then this tumult within oneself will steam roll you into submission- to act according to the norms of the society - to take care of your loved ones, more than yourself! I have seen this happen with people around me who gradually loose their focus and a person who once held a lot of promise just withers away in the face of these emotional connections. To me they bring nothing but ruin to oneself and since I have already established the fact that I love myself, I have stayed away from these banalities called relationships all my life.
I have and still scoff at people who have questioned the purpose of my existence! What does she get out of life being all by herself. Who is there to celebrate her successes and who is there to share her joys and sorrows? Such a loner, how could she be happy? While I welcome their concern (NOT!), I would love to sock their concerned jaws with a blow that would wipe away all their silly poking into other people's lives. But to answer them I would say - nothing gives me more satisfaction than overcoming an obstacle all by myself. Even if I did not, I could just get up and try again or give up or whatever. I definitely don't need someone to pick me up, goad me to go on and then watch me fall. I'd rather fall, get up myself and do whatever I feel like doing - not do it for the sake of someone who needs me to be strong. I don't want to give anyone the satisfaciton of sharing my successes. They are all mine and I am mighty proud of them. So also my failures. I can't blame anyone except myself and that makes me try harder to overcome them.
I looked down from my book. The questionnaire. I had completely forgotten about it. I had refused the interview, so they had sent me this form.
How does it feel to be running for the position of the most powerful person in the world? Pretty good - I jotted down.
Are you confident you are going to win? Yes.
Being on top sometimes can be lonely. How does it feel up there? Awesome..
You are accused of being a loner. Are you? Yes.
Who or what do you attribute your success to? Me being a loner!
I switched off the TV. It isn't fun to watch myself being flanked by almost every important personality in the world! No matter who you are surrounded by its pretty nauseating to be in the midst of so many people.
**The End**
Monday, April 4, 2011
The loner...Part 2
My mom had tried her best to make sense of what was happening with her daughter. She tried to determine what the underlying reason could be for me wanting to be on my own. More than concern of anything else for me, it was an exercise on her part to make sure that she was not responsible for who I was. Was it because Dad had left us that I insisted on not talking to anyone? Was it possible that she might be a bitter single mom and so I had retreated into my shell? Was it because I was embarrassed of her that I refused to go anywhere with her? Was it because I was an only child, that I never mingled with anyone?..Was it because?...the list was endless.
I would listen to the items on the list time and again when she'd get miserable thinking I was miserable and would start lamenting on what she had done wrong to deserve this. I would just stare vacantly in space and that would infuriate her more and the list would get longer. Invariably it would end in her tears and with me walking out, not because I was uncomfortable in any way that she was crying, but mostly because either I would need a drink or would need to use the bathroom.
Years later, when she fell extremely sick she apologized to me. I gave her the vacant stare and she fell back sobbing.
"What have I ever done to you?" she managed between the sobs.
"Nothing mom." I replied.
She stopped sobbing and looked at me increduosly. That was the first ever time I had acknowledged her question which had been hurled at me in various formats almost every other day.
"Then why...."
"It's who I am mom and it has got nothing to do with you!"
She sighed. She fell back. I never heard her repeat the drama ever again! She died a few days later.
When you are around someone for so long - almost all your life - you tend to start missing having them around(at least that is what I was led to believe), even if you never really loved or got along with them. I waited for that feeling to hit me - it never did. I looked around the apartment we had shared for so many years. I forced myself to look at the chair she would sit and listen to classical music. I don't know what feeling I sought, but it was definitely not the one that came over me. A surge of relief that I no longer had to be around her brooding presence. I was glad she was gone. I was glad to be by myself - finally!
After the party at the Rien's my mom had a grand idea - that of throwing a party of our own. I was just nine at that time, so though I tried my hardest to avert the crisis, she heard nothing of it and put me through the torture of greeting a dozen kids accompanied by their parents. My head was spinning as she made me thank eacn one of them when they were leaving. I almost passed out, but she held me strong. I never forgave her for that. She never did it to me again. She stopped trying after I threw up all over the floor that day!
There was this girl at school. An ugly, gawky looking thing. Since no on one seemed to be interested in being her friend, she turned her attention towards me, the only other friendless girl around! She was a stubborn little thing if there was one and was quite intent on becoming my 'best friend' as she put it. I punched her in the face when she said that. She was back the next day with a band-aid on her nose, grinning - showing her uneven teeth - "Well if not best friends, we could just be friends!". I punched her in the same spot again. She did not bother me after that.
But I had to pay the price for my aggression. From being a mousy little thing who minded her own business, I had morphed into a variety of different things. Some said I was a witch, some said I was abused, some said I was a psycho, some even said I had murdered my dad when I was 3! I didn't care..whatever the reason they left me alone and that is what mattered. I was free of the constant fun they would poke at me. If I had only known, I would've punched someone way earlier.
One thing I learned very early in life is that you control how you want your life to be. True, destiny pays a part - but if you are disciplined about what you want and never swerve out of the way - you will get it. As I cooked dinner that day - that is exactly how I felt. I watched the omelette puff up all bright red and yellow. I did not like the green stuff in it - and so there was no green stuff in it. This is how I wanted my life to be. Just the way I wanted it to be. Not the way someone else wanted it to be.
No one ever understood that. I was always treated like an abnormal person who had issues. No one could ever understand that it was the way I wanted things to be. That I loved being on my own, that being around other people tired the hell out of me - so much so that I was paranoid about being around people. They bored me no end with their oh so cute and happy lives, or I cant survive with/without my spouse lives or my kids are so smart lives. It seemed like an endless cycle. I would think I could categorize people into 4 to 5 categories and almost everyone would fit into one of these categories. Pretty mindless to be involved in the same vicious never ending drama of other people's lives! Instead I preferred to be on my own - do what interested me - not do what did not interest me and for that I was labeled a loner! I didn't mind as long as the loner was left alone!
Though I would have been as happy had I belonged to the cave man era wherein you could just go into a cave and live there (which I long to do even now), the reality was much different and I could not not pay attention to it for long. I had to make a life of my own. Passing school had been like walking on cake - the colorful stories that were touted as facts by those around me made life that much more interesting. I could be happy and secure in the knowledge that I was not as bad as they wanted me to be. Just more so!
"Want to get a coffee?"
I looked up from the book. This was the reason, I had wanted to check out the book, but the librarian had quoted some stupid rule that did not allow me to take the book home. So I had reluctantly settled in clutching the book. The thing I hate about libraries are that they seem more like a place for hospital records of dead patients rather than anything else. I would maybe spend not more than 10 minutes in checking out books and would be out of there in a flash. But when it was a question of the book that I had wanted to read for ages, I could not do that. So I sat there against my better judgement and had started reading.
As I had expected I was interrupted. When I looked up I saw the most beautiful brown eyes smiling at me.
"Coffee?" Yes, you could call those eyes coffee too. For the first time in my life I did not feel like punching the day lights out of someone who seemed to want my company!
(to be continued)
I would listen to the items on the list time and again when she'd get miserable thinking I was miserable and would start lamenting on what she had done wrong to deserve this. I would just stare vacantly in space and that would infuriate her more and the list would get longer. Invariably it would end in her tears and with me walking out, not because I was uncomfortable in any way that she was crying, but mostly because either I would need a drink or would need to use the bathroom.
Years later, when she fell extremely sick she apologized to me. I gave her the vacant stare and she fell back sobbing.
"What have I ever done to you?" she managed between the sobs.
"Nothing mom." I replied.
She stopped sobbing and looked at me increduosly. That was the first ever time I had acknowledged her question which had been hurled at me in various formats almost every other day.
"Then why...."
"It's who I am mom and it has got nothing to do with you!"
She sighed. She fell back. I never heard her repeat the drama ever again! She died a few days later.
When you are around someone for so long - almost all your life - you tend to start missing having them around(at least that is what I was led to believe), even if you never really loved or got along with them. I waited for that feeling to hit me - it never did. I looked around the apartment we had shared for so many years. I forced myself to look at the chair she would sit and listen to classical music. I don't know what feeling I sought, but it was definitely not the one that came over me. A surge of relief that I no longer had to be around her brooding presence. I was glad she was gone. I was glad to be by myself - finally!
After the party at the Rien's my mom had a grand idea - that of throwing a party of our own. I was just nine at that time, so though I tried my hardest to avert the crisis, she heard nothing of it and put me through the torture of greeting a dozen kids accompanied by their parents. My head was spinning as she made me thank eacn one of them when they were leaving. I almost passed out, but she held me strong. I never forgave her for that. She never did it to me again. She stopped trying after I threw up all over the floor that day!
There was this girl at school. An ugly, gawky looking thing. Since no on one seemed to be interested in being her friend, she turned her attention towards me, the only other friendless girl around! She was a stubborn little thing if there was one and was quite intent on becoming my 'best friend' as she put it. I punched her in the face when she said that. She was back the next day with a band-aid on her nose, grinning - showing her uneven teeth - "Well if not best friends, we could just be friends!". I punched her in the same spot again. She did not bother me after that.
But I had to pay the price for my aggression. From being a mousy little thing who minded her own business, I had morphed into a variety of different things. Some said I was a witch, some said I was abused, some said I was a psycho, some even said I had murdered my dad when I was 3! I didn't care..whatever the reason they left me alone and that is what mattered. I was free of the constant fun they would poke at me. If I had only known, I would've punched someone way earlier.
One thing I learned very early in life is that you control how you want your life to be. True, destiny pays a part - but if you are disciplined about what you want and never swerve out of the way - you will get it. As I cooked dinner that day - that is exactly how I felt. I watched the omelette puff up all bright red and yellow. I did not like the green stuff in it - and so there was no green stuff in it. This is how I wanted my life to be. Just the way I wanted it to be. Not the way someone else wanted it to be.
No one ever understood that. I was always treated like an abnormal person who had issues. No one could ever understand that it was the way I wanted things to be. That I loved being on my own, that being around other people tired the hell out of me - so much so that I was paranoid about being around people. They bored me no end with their oh so cute and happy lives, or I cant survive with/without my spouse lives or my kids are so smart lives. It seemed like an endless cycle. I would think I could categorize people into 4 to 5 categories and almost everyone would fit into one of these categories. Pretty mindless to be involved in the same vicious never ending drama of other people's lives! Instead I preferred to be on my own - do what interested me - not do what did not interest me and for that I was labeled a loner! I didn't mind as long as the loner was left alone!
Though I would have been as happy had I belonged to the cave man era wherein you could just go into a cave and live there (which I long to do even now), the reality was much different and I could not not pay attention to it for long. I had to make a life of my own. Passing school had been like walking on cake - the colorful stories that were touted as facts by those around me made life that much more interesting. I could be happy and secure in the knowledge that I was not as bad as they wanted me to be. Just more so!
"Want to get a coffee?"
I looked up from the book. This was the reason, I had wanted to check out the book, but the librarian had quoted some stupid rule that did not allow me to take the book home. So I had reluctantly settled in clutching the book. The thing I hate about libraries are that they seem more like a place for hospital records of dead patients rather than anything else. I would maybe spend not more than 10 minutes in checking out books and would be out of there in a flash. But when it was a question of the book that I had wanted to read for ages, I could not do that. So I sat there against my better judgement and had started reading.
As I had expected I was interrupted. When I looked up I saw the most beautiful brown eyes smiling at me.
"Coffee?" Yes, you could call those eyes coffee too. For the first time in my life I did not feel like punching the day lights out of someone who seemed to want my company!
(to be continued)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Thank you, Team India
25th June 1983. I woke up to my mom excitedly telling me that Kapil Dev's India has won the world cricket cup for India. While I knew what cricket was - I was not sure what a world cup was nor who in the world Kapil Dev was. But I got to know in the next few days and also a lot more about the game of cricket my knowledge of which was limited to playing gully cricket with my brothers. Those few days of knowledge was a pre-cursor to what would become a life's dream - to experience India win a world cup again.
I followed India's fortunes under a host of different captains - Kapil Dev, Vengsarkar, Srikkanth, Azharuddin, Sachin Tendulkar, Saurav Ganguly, Rahul Dravid and then some more. While we did seem to posess individual brilliance, record makers and stylish wristy players, we never seemed to click as a team. Sure there were wins here and there to keep fuelling our almost fanatical obsession with the game, but nothing to repeat the brilliance of 1983 or 1985(when we won the Champions Trophy).We (the Indian cricket fan) prayed, we hoped, we wore the same clothes as we did on the day Indian won a game, some of us did not even watch the telecast because we thought we were jinxing the team, we stood together as a nation hoping against hope that our team would do us proud. Yes it did - but more times than not. Disappointment reined large most of the times. We seemed to have perfected the knack of 'snatching defeat from the jaws of victory'. The term seemed coined for us. Still we dreamed the impossible dream. We cursed, we swore, we poked fun at our failing players, but we followed their fortunes like they were our own!
1987 we watched as Graham Gooch and Mike Gatting swept our hopes under the carpet, 1992 - we envied our arch rivals as they lifted the world cup, 1996 - JayaSuriya changed the face of one day cricket as he clobbered everyone out of the field and we watched as our team was at the receiving end. From 1999 onwards we watched as Australia dominated world cricket and also world cup cricket. We tried to end their dominance once, but ended up just nibbling at their toes. Indian cricket seemed doomed. The Indian cricket fan more so. My dream of watching India win a world cup seemed more distant than ever.
But then we came across a man with long flowing hair who batted and looked like a dream..MS Dhoni was put in charge of affairs and slowly but surely things seem to change. I was not following cricket anymore - more so because of where I lived rather than anything else. I still retained the same passion as I ever did for Indian cricket. I had just grown tired of 'haath ko aaya par muh na laga!' all the time. Things did seem to slowly change as India sought to end Australian dominance. Gary Kirsten was bought in. Slowly, but surely things seemed to change. Dhoni at the helm of matters seemed to help. I watched in wonder as India were touted as favorites for winning the 2011 world cup.
Once bitten, twice shy. I supported team India with all my heart, but had misgivings when they could not finish at the top of their group. They lost to South Africa and tied with England. The only teams they seemed to beat were the minnows. Were we once again in the 'hoping for best' boat and needed to be in the 'be prepared for the worst' boat?
Loosing 7 wickets for 30 runs did not seem to be the calling of a champion and once again the confidence waned. Surely we could not beat 3 big teams to lift the world cup. No way. 28 years later we seemed to trodding down the familiar path.
Then the quarterfinal match against Australia happened. I marveled as the Indian team did not choke at the point I expected them to. Yuvraj singh stood tall. Raina joined him and saw us through 80 odd runs. It was mesmerizing. It was joyous. The feeling was different. This did seem like a team that could go all the way. There was yet another hurdle to overcome. Arch rivals Pakistan. We seemed to stutter there a little, but once again there was no choke. We had newer players - non stars - making important contributions towards the end. Something I had never seen the erstwhile Indian cricket teams do. But the victory was not as emphatic as I'd have liked. Pakistan could have taken it away from us had they been more disciplined in their fielding and batting. But yes we were definitely the better team. I gained a little more confidence.
Today it happened. All those years of fervent hoping, praying and doing everything in one's power to try to make it to happen. I watched as Zaheer bowl 5 overs for a meager 6 runs, I watched as the inclusion of Sreesanth bite Dhoni right where he didn't want it to, watched as Yuvraj Singh morphed into a true all rounder for India as he plugged away at the Sri Lankan batsman, watched a masterful century from Mahela Jayawardane, watched Sri Lanka seemed to take the match away from us in the final 5 overs - watched as our premier paceman Zaheer Khan was taken to the laundry for the first time in the tournament, watched as the Sri Lankan batsmen celebrated as they reached 274 - hitting a mighty six of the last ball of their innings. My heart skipped a few beats. 274 seemed like a big score - but surely gettable.
We had to. There was no other choice. Well that thought was halted swiftly as Sehwag and Tendulkar left one after other. I am sure my heart skipped more than a few beats. Just when he seemed in full flow, the little master edged to Sangakkarra. Images of the Indian top order struggling against genuine pacers flooded my thoughts as we seemed to struggle against Malinga. Surely this was not happening! I am sure a billion hearts sank at that moment and am surer it happened again when the out of form Mahender Singh Dhoni walked in. Make no mistake, I love our captain dearly, think he is the finest captain ever - but his form was another thing. Well Dhoni managed to change all that in style. A knock of 91 like this for me is more precious than all the centuries in the world. I watched as our captain hit a 6 to make curry of the target in style. My eyes moistened as a long standing dream was realized. It took 28 years, but hey I am not complaining any more! We did it in style and then some more. More emphatically than we did the 1983 one.
We have so much to look forward to and I know that its not going to be another 28 years before we are at this point again. Indian cricket seems to be headed in the right direction and as usual we the fans will be there to cheer this juggernaut on – wince when the team stumbles, erupt when we win, offer support when it is needed, offer ridicule when it is not wanted...yes we shall be there!
I look at my team and my heart swells with pride. The way they have played - like the champions that they turned out to be - the way they made me feel today - seemed to be paisa vasool for all these 28 years of devotion and most of the what seemed like faith placed in the wrong place. I watched as the Indian team celebrated. My heart beat with them as I savored every moment of what they were going through. I could feel my hands around the cup as Tendulkar held it in his own. Yes, I had wanted it to happen for this man – along with my one billion counterparts. I watched as Dhoni walked a few steps behind the victory procession, flanked by Zaheer on one side and Sehwag on the other. Watched as Gavaskar extol Dhoni - as the man who did it for us, the leader who did it for India - could not have agreed with him more. But we did it like at a team.
Sure there were individual contributions and brilliance but I cannot imagine winning this cup without us working like a unit. Thank you Team India - each and every member for making this cup ours. For giving me this feeling that I won the world cup today. For all the days I pretended to work while I got up at 4am to follows the teams fortunes. For giving me the opportunity to get away from everyday life and be consumed by cricket for the past 6 weeks – once again live and breathe cricket – have minor heart attacks – curse, swear, exult and almost die! Go through all emotions in a matter of 15-20 minutes. Yes, only sports can make that happen. And for Indians there is only one sport that could inspire such emotion – the sport of cricket – our passion, our religion and now our pride and joy. Thank you Team India for making this happen.
Sehwag - Thank you for shredding all unneccesarily built up pre-match tension to pieces as you hit 5 smacking boundaries in one over from one of the leading bowlers of the tournament. Pakistan were put on back foot and never recovered!
Sachin - Thank you for being born! (in India that is. On second thought maybe we should be thanking his parents ;-)
Gambhir - Thank you for your fearlessness in carrying out the sheet anchor role. It's a joy to watch you on the front foot!
Kohli - Thank you for being our second anchor. I see a future captain in you!
Yuvraj - Thank you for showing us that you deserve to possess the arrogance that you display!
Pathan - Thank you for being a game turner Pathan. We look forward to your return.
Raina – What an endearing lad you are. Thank you for being the first one to be either climbing into a team mates arms or taking them in yours when a wicket feel. But thank you most for balancing the Indian innings when it was needed the most. We owe a part of the Australian and Paki victories to you.
Dhoni – Thank you for being the coolest captain ever! You make us proud – everytime!
Harbhajan – Thank you for being the cornerstone of the Indian spin attack. Please convey our sincerest thanks to all the Gurujis of the world. ;-)
Zaheer – Thank you for being so intensely good looking. Oops sorry! For giving us a breakthrough every time we needed one. You are THE bowler of the tournament!
Munaf – Thank you for your wonderful spell against the Pakis. You are an able partner to Zaheer.
Ashwin – Thank you for 2 amazing performances.
Nehra, Sreesanth and Piyush – Thank you for being part of this winning team. You contributed one way or other I am sure.
Thank you Team India, for this feeling of being on top of the world. It sure is a great view!
I followed India's fortunes under a host of different captains - Kapil Dev, Vengsarkar, Srikkanth, Azharuddin, Sachin Tendulkar, Saurav Ganguly, Rahul Dravid and then some more. While we did seem to posess individual brilliance, record makers and stylish wristy players, we never seemed to click as a team. Sure there were wins here and there to keep fuelling our almost fanatical obsession with the game, but nothing to repeat the brilliance of 1983 or 1985(when we won the Champions Trophy).We (the Indian cricket fan) prayed, we hoped, we wore the same clothes as we did on the day Indian won a game, some of us did not even watch the telecast because we thought we were jinxing the team, we stood together as a nation hoping against hope that our team would do us proud. Yes it did - but more times than not. Disappointment reined large most of the times. We seemed to have perfected the knack of 'snatching defeat from the jaws of victory'. The term seemed coined for us. Still we dreamed the impossible dream. We cursed, we swore, we poked fun at our failing players, but we followed their fortunes like they were our own!
1987 we watched as Graham Gooch and Mike Gatting swept our hopes under the carpet, 1992 - we envied our arch rivals as they lifted the world cup, 1996 - JayaSuriya changed the face of one day cricket as he clobbered everyone out of the field and we watched as our team was at the receiving end. From 1999 onwards we watched as Australia dominated world cricket and also world cup cricket. We tried to end their dominance once, but ended up just nibbling at their toes. Indian cricket seemed doomed. The Indian cricket fan more so. My dream of watching India win a world cup seemed more distant than ever.
But then we came across a man with long flowing hair who batted and looked like a dream..MS Dhoni was put in charge of affairs and slowly but surely things seem to change. I was not following cricket anymore - more so because of where I lived rather than anything else. I still retained the same passion as I ever did for Indian cricket. I had just grown tired of 'haath ko aaya par muh na laga!' all the time. Things did seem to slowly change as India sought to end Australian dominance. Gary Kirsten was bought in. Slowly, but surely things seemed to change. Dhoni at the helm of matters seemed to help. I watched in wonder as India were touted as favorites for winning the 2011 world cup.
Once bitten, twice shy. I supported team India with all my heart, but had misgivings when they could not finish at the top of their group. They lost to South Africa and tied with England. The only teams they seemed to beat were the minnows. Were we once again in the 'hoping for best' boat and needed to be in the 'be prepared for the worst' boat?
Loosing 7 wickets for 30 runs did not seem to be the calling of a champion and once again the confidence waned. Surely we could not beat 3 big teams to lift the world cup. No way. 28 years later we seemed to trodding down the familiar path.
Then the quarterfinal match against Australia happened. I marveled as the Indian team did not choke at the point I expected them to. Yuvraj singh stood tall. Raina joined him and saw us through 80 odd runs. It was mesmerizing. It was joyous. The feeling was different. This did seem like a team that could go all the way. There was yet another hurdle to overcome. Arch rivals Pakistan. We seemed to stutter there a little, but once again there was no choke. We had newer players - non stars - making important contributions towards the end. Something I had never seen the erstwhile Indian cricket teams do. But the victory was not as emphatic as I'd have liked. Pakistan could have taken it away from us had they been more disciplined in their fielding and batting. But yes we were definitely the better team. I gained a little more confidence.
Today it happened. All those years of fervent hoping, praying and doing everything in one's power to try to make it to happen. I watched as Zaheer bowl 5 overs for a meager 6 runs, I watched as the inclusion of Sreesanth bite Dhoni right where he didn't want it to, watched as Yuvraj Singh morphed into a true all rounder for India as he plugged away at the Sri Lankan batsman, watched a masterful century from Mahela Jayawardane, watched Sri Lanka seemed to take the match away from us in the final 5 overs - watched as our premier paceman Zaheer Khan was taken to the laundry for the first time in the tournament, watched as the Sri Lankan batsmen celebrated as they reached 274 - hitting a mighty six of the last ball of their innings. My heart skipped a few beats. 274 seemed like a big score - but surely gettable.
We had to. There was no other choice. Well that thought was halted swiftly as Sehwag and Tendulkar left one after other. I am sure my heart skipped more than a few beats. Just when he seemed in full flow, the little master edged to Sangakkarra. Images of the Indian top order struggling against genuine pacers flooded my thoughts as we seemed to struggle against Malinga. Surely this was not happening! I am sure a billion hearts sank at that moment and am surer it happened again when the out of form Mahender Singh Dhoni walked in. Make no mistake, I love our captain dearly, think he is the finest captain ever - but his form was another thing. Well Dhoni managed to change all that in style. A knock of 91 like this for me is more precious than all the centuries in the world. I watched as our captain hit a 6 to make curry of the target in style. My eyes moistened as a long standing dream was realized. It took 28 years, but hey I am not complaining any more! We did it in style and then some more. More emphatically than we did the 1983 one.
We have so much to look forward to and I know that its not going to be another 28 years before we are at this point again. Indian cricket seems to be headed in the right direction and as usual we the fans will be there to cheer this juggernaut on – wince when the team stumbles, erupt when we win, offer support when it is needed, offer ridicule when it is not wanted...yes we shall be there!
I look at my team and my heart swells with pride. The way they have played - like the champions that they turned out to be - the way they made me feel today - seemed to be paisa vasool for all these 28 years of devotion and most of the what seemed like faith placed in the wrong place. I watched as the Indian team celebrated. My heart beat with them as I savored every moment of what they were going through. I could feel my hands around the cup as Tendulkar held it in his own. Yes, I had wanted it to happen for this man – along with my one billion counterparts. I watched as Dhoni walked a few steps behind the victory procession, flanked by Zaheer on one side and Sehwag on the other. Watched as Gavaskar extol Dhoni - as the man who did it for us, the leader who did it for India - could not have agreed with him more. But we did it like at a team.
Sure there were individual contributions and brilliance but I cannot imagine winning this cup without us working like a unit. Thank you Team India - each and every member for making this cup ours. For giving me this feeling that I won the world cup today. For all the days I pretended to work while I got up at 4am to follows the teams fortunes. For giving me the opportunity to get away from everyday life and be consumed by cricket for the past 6 weeks – once again live and breathe cricket – have minor heart attacks – curse, swear, exult and almost die! Go through all emotions in a matter of 15-20 minutes. Yes, only sports can make that happen. And for Indians there is only one sport that could inspire such emotion – the sport of cricket – our passion, our religion and now our pride and joy. Thank you Team India for making this happen.
Sehwag - Thank you for shredding all unneccesarily built up pre-match tension to pieces as you hit 5 smacking boundaries in one over from one of the leading bowlers of the tournament. Pakistan were put on back foot and never recovered!
Sachin - Thank you for being born! (in India that is. On second thought maybe we should be thanking his parents ;-)
Gambhir - Thank you for your fearlessness in carrying out the sheet anchor role. It's a joy to watch you on the front foot!
Kohli - Thank you for being our second anchor. I see a future captain in you!
Yuvraj - Thank you for showing us that you deserve to possess the arrogance that you display!
Pathan - Thank you for being a game turner Pathan. We look forward to your return.
Raina – What an endearing lad you are. Thank you for being the first one to be either climbing into a team mates arms or taking them in yours when a wicket feel. But thank you most for balancing the Indian innings when it was needed the most. We owe a part of the Australian and Paki victories to you.
Dhoni – Thank you for being the coolest captain ever! You make us proud – everytime!
Harbhajan – Thank you for being the cornerstone of the Indian spin attack. Please convey our sincerest thanks to all the Gurujis of the world. ;-)
Zaheer – Thank you for being so intensely good looking. Oops sorry! For giving us a breakthrough every time we needed one. You are THE bowler of the tournament!
Munaf – Thank you for your wonderful spell against the Pakis. You are an able partner to Zaheer.
Ashwin – Thank you for 2 amazing performances.
Nehra, Sreesanth and Piyush – Thank you for being part of this winning team. You contributed one way or other I am sure.
Thank you Team India, for this feeling of being on top of the world. It sure is a great view!
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Loner...(A Story..Part1)
A loner - that's what I have been termed all my life. I guess its not such a bad thing to be termed as, if the other terms used to describe you have been titles like weirdo, whacko, pyscho, retard etc etc. Yes, I have referred to with all these colorful adjectives at one stage of my life or the other, but the one that has stuck with me has been - The Loner.
"She is such a loner..." I have heard in hushed tones.
"You are a loner, aren't you?" Some people have been more direct.
"Why are you such a loner?" I have heard the frustration a few times.
"How can you be such a loner?" Fascination even?
The list goes on. I go on being a 'loner'.
I don't know how it started. I guess it has been with me all along. My mother tells me that I was the easiest of babies to handle. That I never cried for attention. She wanted me to cry, wanted me to reach out to her to fulfill her motherly duties of attending to her needy child. I did not. The only time I had cried had been when I would be physically hurting but apparently never for wanting someone to look after me. That seemed to have irked my mom no end. She wanted to complain about her vocal girl who needed her mom every second - just like all her friends did - but she did not know how. She did not know what constituted a wailing baby looking for someone to pick them up. She had to do with me. Always quiet, content in my own little baby world -wanting to play on my own, happy with whatever situation I found myself in.
"You were such a loner!" my mom would sigh and repeat for I am sure the one hundred thousandth time at least if I had been counting.
I do not remember any of these things, so I can't neccasarily put my view across on how my mind used to function at that point in time. But I sure can do so now and that is the point of this story. To give the world an insider's view of a loner's world - my world!
The first time I realized that I was drastically different from any kid around me was when I went to one of my classmate's 8th birth day party. I don't remember his name right now, but I do remember that my mother had insisted that I should go. I was never invited anywhere, thankfully, so this situations had not presented itself before, but this time around the whole class has gotten invitation and I had grudgingly accepted the invitation that was thrust into my hands. I had destroyed it as soon as I could get out everyone's view but Rien's mom(there I do remember the name) had called my mom personally to invite me. My mom was all excited. She made such a big fuss, I was not even sure I would last through it. She took me shopping to buy something exquisite for Rien. What does he like? What does he play with? Did he tell you what he might want for his birthday? The questions just barged one after the other. I do not know how I hated at that moment more - my mom or Mrs.Rien. I would be sitting on my bed right now, curled up like a ball and having fun being with myself. Instead I was being dragged though all these brightly colored stores looking to find that elusive perfect gift that would make Rien go 'woo hoo' for a few seconds. Yes, it was Rien who was to blame. I did not even wish him 'Happy Birthday' and just sat by myself on the bench looking at my shoes - the ones that my mom has gotten me that day as a way to brighten up my mood. It had gotten even worse because I was comfortable in my older ones. They seemed to have gotten used to the shape of my feet so snugly, the new ones were too loose and I did not like the design either.
"Don't you want a piece of cake?" I looked up to see a smiling Mrs.Rien holding a plate of ginormous pieces of cake.
I shook my head?
"You want anything else, sweetie?" she asked with that silly grin still adorning her perfectly made up admittedly pretty face.
"Yes" I murmured.
"Yes?" she encouraged me.
"Leave me alone!" I spat out. That wiped the silly grin off her face and gave way to an even sillier expression of shock.
"Did you have a good time darling?" My mom asked me hoping against hope.
"No!" I said defiantly. She sank in the chair.
"Everything all right..." it was Mrs.Rien again.
"Yes...I am ..."
"Rien loves the gift you got him" she told my mom.
"oh! Thank you!"
"Your daughter on the other hand seemed to be in a bad mood. I hope she is not sick or something"
"Thank you. No she's not."
"Oh! Is that just the ways she is?"
"Yes..that is exactly the way she is!"
"A loner - eh?"
"A loner yes!"
That's the first time I heard the word...a word that has come to stick with me throughout my life.
(...to be continued)
"She is such a loner..." I have heard in hushed tones.
"You are a loner, aren't you?" Some people have been more direct.
"Why are you such a loner?" I have heard the frustration a few times.
"How can you be such a loner?" Fascination even?
The list goes on. I go on being a 'loner'.
I don't know how it started. I guess it has been with me all along. My mother tells me that I was the easiest of babies to handle. That I never cried for attention. She wanted me to cry, wanted me to reach out to her to fulfill her motherly duties of attending to her needy child. I did not. The only time I had cried had been when I would be physically hurting but apparently never for wanting someone to look after me. That seemed to have irked my mom no end. She wanted to complain about her vocal girl who needed her mom every second - just like all her friends did - but she did not know how. She did not know what constituted a wailing baby looking for someone to pick them up. She had to do with me. Always quiet, content in my own little baby world -wanting to play on my own, happy with whatever situation I found myself in.
"You were such a loner!" my mom would sigh and repeat for I am sure the one hundred thousandth time at least if I had been counting.
I do not remember any of these things, so I can't neccasarily put my view across on how my mind used to function at that point in time. But I sure can do so now and that is the point of this story. To give the world an insider's view of a loner's world - my world!
The first time I realized that I was drastically different from any kid around me was when I went to one of my classmate's 8th birth day party. I don't remember his name right now, but I do remember that my mother had insisted that I should go. I was never invited anywhere, thankfully, so this situations had not presented itself before, but this time around the whole class has gotten invitation and I had grudgingly accepted the invitation that was thrust into my hands. I had destroyed it as soon as I could get out everyone's view but Rien's mom(there I do remember the name) had called my mom personally to invite me. My mom was all excited. She made such a big fuss, I was not even sure I would last through it. She took me shopping to buy something exquisite for Rien. What does he like? What does he play with? Did he tell you what he might want for his birthday? The questions just barged one after the other. I do not know how I hated at that moment more - my mom or Mrs.Rien. I would be sitting on my bed right now, curled up like a ball and having fun being with myself. Instead I was being dragged though all these brightly colored stores looking to find that elusive perfect gift that would make Rien go 'woo hoo' for a few seconds. Yes, it was Rien who was to blame. I did not even wish him 'Happy Birthday' and just sat by myself on the bench looking at my shoes - the ones that my mom has gotten me that day as a way to brighten up my mood. It had gotten even worse because I was comfortable in my older ones. They seemed to have gotten used to the shape of my feet so snugly, the new ones were too loose and I did not like the design either.
"Don't you want a piece of cake?" I looked up to see a smiling Mrs.Rien holding a plate of ginormous pieces of cake.
I shook my head?
"You want anything else, sweetie?" she asked with that silly grin still adorning her perfectly made up admittedly pretty face.
"Yes" I murmured.
"Yes?" she encouraged me.
"Leave me alone!" I spat out. That wiped the silly grin off her face and gave way to an even sillier expression of shock.
"Did you have a good time darling?" My mom asked me hoping against hope.
"No!" I said defiantly. She sank in the chair.
"Everything all right..." it was Mrs.Rien again.
"Yes...I am ..."
"Rien loves the gift you got him" she told my mom.
"oh! Thank you!"
"Your daughter on the other hand seemed to be in a bad mood. I hope she is not sick or something"
"Thank you. No she's not."
"Oh! Is that just the ways she is?"
"Yes..that is exactly the way she is!"
"A loner - eh?"
"A loner yes!"
That's the first time I heard the word...a word that has come to stick with me throughout my life.
(...to be continued)
Monday, March 14, 2011
Feeling like a teenager...
How many years it has been since I -
1.had a picture of a current heartthrob on my desktop?
2.got up to watch India play (and loose) a cricket match at 3 in the morning?
3.played a game online.
4.Read a book.
5.Worked out.
6.Blogged more frequently than once very couple of years!
7.was happy being myself.
Well the answer is right now!
Woohoo life seems to be taking a turn for the better as:
1. I stare at Zaheer Khan staring back at me from the desktop.
2. I am still recovering from the blow India dealt in tie-ing with England and
loosing to SA
3.Scrabble is such a fun game though my win percent is about 11
4. Jules Verne Treasure Island what vivid descriptions
5. Being able to get up at 5 am every other day for a workout rocks!
6. Writing regularly on 2 blogs for over a month now!
7. yes its wonderful to be me!
1.had a picture of a current heartthrob on my desktop?
2.got up to watch India play (and loose) a cricket match at 3 in the morning?
3.played a game online.
4.Read a book.
5.Worked out.
6.Blogged more frequently than once very couple of years!
7.was happy being myself.
Well the answer is right now!
Woohoo life seems to be taking a turn for the better as:
1. I stare at Zaheer Khan staring back at me from the desktop.
2. I am still recovering from the blow India dealt in tie-ing with England and
loosing to SA
3.Scrabble is such a fun game though my win percent is about 11
4. Jules Verne Treasure Island what vivid descriptions
5. Being able to get up at 5 am every other day for a workout rocks!
6. Writing regularly on 2 blogs for over a month now!
7. yes its wonderful to be me!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
My (ab)Normal life! (A short story)
Sometimes I wonder if it is the other way around? How could it be that the whole world is not normal? The easier option would be that I am not normal. But however hard I try to convince myself, I still feel that the whole world is mad and I am the only sane person living.
Well, it has not always been like this. Not long ago I felt like I was a part of this world. I felt a sense of belonging that came from being brought up in this world by a set of parents whose sole purpose in life seemed to be able to make their child fit well into this jigsaw of a world hopefully somewhere in the top echelons.
For a while I did exactly what was expected of me. I was an A grade student, which satiated my parent's appetite for being clubbed into the elite club of parents who raise extremely successful kids! I fell in love with a fellow classmate, one who was beautiful as well as extremely smart and intelligent. Once again that seemed to fall in place with the plan I thought I had architected for myself. A plan that would ensure great financial success, a solid marriage that would foster love and happiness, a career to would earn respect as well as professional satisfaction, a legacy to continue this plan in the form of kids who would allow me to join the elite club to which my parents were now life time members.
This is how life went on. Everywhere I went, I was envied. My life was sought after. My lectures valued. My wife admired. My children successful. Yes, everything was normal. But there was one thing that was not normal and that was me.
Life did not hold a charm anymore. The envious looks of people embarrassed me. My lectures which I thought defined my thinking seem to following the pattern of my life - they were getting repetitive. My wife morphed from being a stunning creature who I adored to just another human being who I accepted. My children had their own lives, their own ideas, their own successes and their own plans and I was actually thankful for that and not all bleary eyed unlike my 'normal' wife who never missed a chance to lament about how our children were deserting us. (read growing up!).
Normalcy was getting very boring. Life had come to a standstill. I was yearning to break out of it. I grew restless. I confided in some of my closest acquaintances. (I refused to consider anyone my friend. That was another part of me not being normal!)
"Take a vacation" one of them suggested. Vacation where? We had been to every nook of the world. The wonders of the world ceased to enthrall. The adventures did not hold the same thrill.
"Take a break" another one interjected. Break from being normal? How did one do that? Be not normal for a couple of weeks and be back to being normal all over again?
"Maybe you need a shrink". That suggestion amused me no end. The idea that someone else could analyze my feelings and my issues better than I could never ceased to make me smile.
Soon the advisors grew weary of giving advice. Slowly I was relegated to being a little whacky! Another definition for not being normal. That was actually a kind of relief to me. I did not need to pretend to be normal anymore. My wife actually believed I was going crazy and left me alone most of the time. Yes the rants, the lamentations would still break my peace, but neither was I held responsible for being sympathetic nor was I expected to come up with a solution to ward off everything sinister that was tormenting her in like 5 minutes. After all I was a genius in my professional life, so how could I be so dumb when it came to my personal one? Now that I was termed a not normal human being, I was allowed to be just that. Ah! The relief.
My children would grow quiet when I was around and did not seem to give me the immense satisfaction of taking care of my grand kids who normally would be a grandpa's cutest playthings. For me they were pests, plain and simple! So you can imagine my delight at this chain of events.
My friends would smile more and talk less in my company. My audience seemed to be more amused at my lectures and I did not miss the sly glances going around when I said something that was deemed out of the ordinary. It seemed like the world and I had come to the same conclusion about each other at the same time - that neither of us was normal.
Armed with this knowledge, I strode forward. No longer did I have to keep up the pretense. No longer did I have to adhere to a regimen. I could skip important (but very boring) family get-together's, did not have to offer any excuses for not remembering an important date in someone else's life, could give lectures without preparation and just ramble. Yes not being normal was a whole lot of fun than being the norm.
If you don't believe me, try it!
Well, it has not always been like this. Not long ago I felt like I was a part of this world. I felt a sense of belonging that came from being brought up in this world by a set of parents whose sole purpose in life seemed to be able to make their child fit well into this jigsaw of a world hopefully somewhere in the top echelons.
For a while I did exactly what was expected of me. I was an A grade student, which satiated my parent's appetite for being clubbed into the elite club of parents who raise extremely successful kids! I fell in love with a fellow classmate, one who was beautiful as well as extremely smart and intelligent. Once again that seemed to fall in place with the plan I thought I had architected for myself. A plan that would ensure great financial success, a solid marriage that would foster love and happiness, a career to would earn respect as well as professional satisfaction, a legacy to continue this plan in the form of kids who would allow me to join the elite club to which my parents were now life time members.
This is how life went on. Everywhere I went, I was envied. My life was sought after. My lectures valued. My wife admired. My children successful. Yes, everything was normal. But there was one thing that was not normal and that was me.
Life did not hold a charm anymore. The envious looks of people embarrassed me. My lectures which I thought defined my thinking seem to following the pattern of my life - they were getting repetitive. My wife morphed from being a stunning creature who I adored to just another human being who I accepted. My children had their own lives, their own ideas, their own successes and their own plans and I was actually thankful for that and not all bleary eyed unlike my 'normal' wife who never missed a chance to lament about how our children were deserting us. (read growing up!).
Normalcy was getting very boring. Life had come to a standstill. I was yearning to break out of it. I grew restless. I confided in some of my closest acquaintances. (I refused to consider anyone my friend. That was another part of me not being normal!)
"Take a vacation" one of them suggested. Vacation where? We had been to every nook of the world. The wonders of the world ceased to enthrall. The adventures did not hold the same thrill.
"Take a break" another one interjected. Break from being normal? How did one do that? Be not normal for a couple of weeks and be back to being normal all over again?
"Maybe you need a shrink". That suggestion amused me no end. The idea that someone else could analyze my feelings and my issues better than I could never ceased to make me smile.
Soon the advisors grew weary of giving advice. Slowly I was relegated to being a little whacky! Another definition for not being normal. That was actually a kind of relief to me. I did not need to pretend to be normal anymore. My wife actually believed I was going crazy and left me alone most of the time. Yes the rants, the lamentations would still break my peace, but neither was I held responsible for being sympathetic nor was I expected to come up with a solution to ward off everything sinister that was tormenting her in like 5 minutes. After all I was a genius in my professional life, so how could I be so dumb when it came to my personal one? Now that I was termed a not normal human being, I was allowed to be just that. Ah! The relief.
My children would grow quiet when I was around and did not seem to give me the immense satisfaction of taking care of my grand kids who normally would be a grandpa's cutest playthings. For me they were pests, plain and simple! So you can imagine my delight at this chain of events.
My friends would smile more and talk less in my company. My audience seemed to be more amused at my lectures and I did not miss the sly glances going around when I said something that was deemed out of the ordinary. It seemed like the world and I had come to the same conclusion about each other at the same time - that neither of us was normal.
Armed with this knowledge, I strode forward. No longer did I have to keep up the pretense. No longer did I have to adhere to a regimen. I could skip important (but very boring) family get-together's, did not have to offer any excuses for not remembering an important date in someone else's life, could give lectures without preparation and just ramble. Yes not being normal was a whole lot of fun than being the norm.
If you don't believe me, try it!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The HE-SHE dialogues
She: What are you upto?
He: eh?
She: Are you busy?
He: well...
She: If it's taking you that long to answer you must not be.
He: lll....
She: Can we talk?
He: err...
She: Or you don't have time for me?
He: It's...
She: what?
He: Nothing.
She: You have time for me or no?
He: well...
She: Quit talking in monosyllables.
He: ok.
She: Stop it.
He: What?
She: Talking in monosyllables.
He:
She: Say something.
He:
She: Why are you not saying anything?
He:
She: Bah. You are so difficult.
He: oh come on now! You asked me not to speak
She: In monosyllables I said.
He: Well that's what I could get in when I talk to you.
She:(aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh)
He:(uh-oh)
She:(aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhh)
He: (uh-oh-oh)
She: I expect an apology from you right now.
He: Sorry.
She: There you go.
He: What?
She: Back to your monsyllables again.
He: Uff!
She: harumph! I am not talking with you ever again.
He: (woohoo)
She: And I mean ever, ever, ever again.
He: Now come on...
She: And never going to ever bother you again..or ask you anything..or tell you anything...or discuss anything with you...
He: (hoo boy!)
She: Why do I bother to even make a conversation with you is beyond me.
He: me too..
She: WHAT?
He: Nothing!
She: Yeah that's how much I mean to you.
He: I never said that!
She: Well you say a lot without saying anything.
He: I do?
She: Of course you do. Your monosyllables convey more meaning than my tirades.
He: Then why do you complain about them?
She: Uff
He: Hee hee
She: This is the last time I have tried to make a conversation with you. Expect never to hear me address you ever again.
He: (hoo boy!)
She: Make merry now I am going to leave you alone for ever.
He: Come on now...
She: Bye....this is what I get after years of marriage and devotion..not even a few minutes to give attention to what I am saying. I will never ever speak to him ever again. NEVER!
(10 mins later)
She: What are you upto?
He: eh?
She: Are you busy?
He: well...
She: If it's taking you that long to answer you must not be.
He: lll....
She: Can we talk?
He: err...
She: Or you don't have time for me?
He: It's...
She: what?
He: Nothing.
She: You have time for me or no?
He: well...
She: Quit talking in monosyllables.
He: ok.
She: Stop it.
He: What?
She: Talking in monosyllables.
He:
She: Say something.
He:
She: Why are you not saying anything?
He:
She: Bah. You are so difficult.
He: oh come on now! You asked me not to speak
She: In monosyllables I said.
He: Well that's what I could get in when I talk to you.
She:(aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh)
He:(uh-oh)
She:(aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhh)
He: (uh-oh-oh)
She: I expect an apology from you right now.
He: Sorry.
She: There you go.
He: What?
She: Back to your monsyllables again.
He: Uff!
She: harumph! I am not talking with you ever again.
He: (woohoo)
She: And I mean ever, ever, ever again.
He: Now come on...
She: And never going to ever bother you again..or ask you anything..or tell you anything...or discuss anything with you...
He: (hoo boy!)
She: Why do I bother to even make a conversation with you is beyond me.
He: me too..
She: WHAT?
He: Nothing!
She: Yeah that's how much I mean to you.
He: I never said that!
She: Well you say a lot without saying anything.
He: I do?
She: Of course you do. Your monosyllables convey more meaning than my tirades.
He: Then why do you complain about them?
She: Uff
He: Hee hee
She: This is the last time I have tried to make a conversation with you. Expect never to hear me address you ever again.
He: (hoo boy!)
She: Make merry now I am going to leave you alone for ever.
He: Come on now...
She: Bye....this is what I get after years of marriage and devotion..not even a few minutes to give attention to what I am saying. I will never ever speak to him ever again. NEVER!
(10 mins later)
She: What are you upto?
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Guzaarish...A review.
Wanted to watch this movie since I heard about it. Hrithik Roshan being in the movie had everything to do with it. Aishwarya Rai being in the movie had nothing to do with it. However once I watched her doing the Udi Udi number on TV, it added more to the list of - Reasons to watch Guzarish list. Such a polished dance. I thought Aish looked stunning and sexy for the first time in her career. Even though not a big fan of Aish's acting, I have always thought her to be a very, very graceful dancer - the saving grace of the erstwhile Taal. Right next came up 'Sheila ki Jawaani'. Added one more to the looooooooong list of - Reasons NEVER to watch Tees Maar Khan ever,ever,ever!.
So I got to watch Guzaarish late last night. The film came to the point right away. I liked that very much. No dilly dallying and spending about 2 hours coming to the point of how our hero got into such a state. There alone saved my 2 hours. I am sure by this time everyone knows all the ins and outs of the movie, so will save your 20 minutes not mulling over the story. Hrithik Roshan was Hrithik Roshan - magnificent as usual. I wish they had toned down the magic tricks though - The only hard to digest parts of the film. But given Mr.Bhansali's penchant for over the top effects in his film - I guess it was expected since he could not do so much of the grandeur elsewhere.
I admire Hrithik for taking on this role. Maybe one does not refuse Mr.Bhansali but still to take on the role of a paraplegic knowing very well that most of the people love to watch him dance and fight it out is indeed commendable. Hrithik does justice to every role of his and same here. He is awesome. Tries to look unkempt - ends up looking even more ravishing (check to see if I am drooling) and in the end meets death laughing! Awesome, awesome performance. He made the movie watchable, the character lovable. Apart from Hrithik and Aish (I am coming to her) and this new kid on the block Omar Siddiqui he is called in the movie - nothing much to write about. Over the top melodrama and situations not to mention acting.
This is the first movie where I felt Aish was entirely watchable without wincing over her acting. True her mannerisms show up here and there but the character itself can be deemed to have them, so she passes there. She gives a spirited performance topped off by the cherry in the form of Udi-Udi. Uff she looks and moves like a dream. Sporting a deep neck that provides tantalizing glimpses she dances in style and aplomb looking much sexier than all those gyrating item number girls put together. (pointed looks at you know who!)
All in all a welcome diversion from Bollywood drivel being churned out these days - one in which it is 'coool' to address your mom by her first name; another one(ten) in which you are subjected to third degree torture in the name of Comedy; another few which star Akshay Kumar (shudder, shudder) and so many more. Guzaarish is different. Reason enough to Watch it!
So I got to watch Guzaarish late last night. The film came to the point right away. I liked that very much. No dilly dallying and spending about 2 hours coming to the point of how our hero got into such a state. There alone saved my 2 hours. I am sure by this time everyone knows all the ins and outs of the movie, so will save your 20 minutes not mulling over the story. Hrithik Roshan was Hrithik Roshan - magnificent as usual. I wish they had toned down the magic tricks though - The only hard to digest parts of the film. But given Mr.Bhansali's penchant for over the top effects in his film - I guess it was expected since he could not do so much of the grandeur elsewhere.
I admire Hrithik for taking on this role. Maybe one does not refuse Mr.Bhansali but still to take on the role of a paraplegic knowing very well that most of the people love to watch him dance and fight it out is indeed commendable. Hrithik does justice to every role of his and same here. He is awesome. Tries to look unkempt - ends up looking even more ravishing (check to see if I am drooling) and in the end meets death laughing! Awesome, awesome performance. He made the movie watchable, the character lovable. Apart from Hrithik and Aish (I am coming to her) and this new kid on the block Omar Siddiqui he is called in the movie - nothing much to write about. Over the top melodrama and situations not to mention acting.
This is the first movie where I felt Aish was entirely watchable without wincing over her acting. True her mannerisms show up here and there but the character itself can be deemed to have them, so she passes there. She gives a spirited performance topped off by the cherry in the form of Udi-Udi. Uff she looks and moves like a dream. Sporting a deep neck that provides tantalizing glimpses she dances in style and aplomb looking much sexier than all those gyrating item number girls put together. (pointed looks at you know who!)
All in all a welcome diversion from Bollywood drivel being churned out these days - one in which it is 'coool' to address your mom by her first name; another one(ten) in which you are subjected to third degree torture in the name of Comedy; another few which star Akshay Kumar (shudder, shudder) and so many more. Guzaarish is different. Reason enough to Watch it!
I want to start writing...again!
I used to write. Write well I was told by a lot of people. I had my own share of readers who once used to look forward to my blogs. I was a prolific blogger once. Writing at least one creative piece a week. I used to dabble is some poetry and also do movie/music/ghazal reviews. I used to enjoy it so much. Then I met life head on. It engulfed me and I let it. I went along with the flow. Got involved with it until it devoured me completely. I am still engulfed, but I am trying to extricate myself out of it to an extent that I have time to breathe. Time to watch a glorious sunrise. Time to take a book to a Forest Preserve and just sit there, attempting to read the book but looking into oblivion most of the time, taking in the peace of it all, the stillness of it into my soul. Real early morning perhaps. One day, I promise to myself - yet another time!
I promise to write. So this effort. Small snippets maybe, not elaborate presentations (but maybe those too sometimes). So starting over - always a good place to start!
Good luck me!
I promise to write. So this effort. Small snippets maybe, not elaborate presentations (but maybe those too sometimes). So starting over - always a good place to start!
Good luck me!
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