Monday, October 6, 2008
Weekends with BF
This trend I've noticed at work;the first question on a Monday is always
"So how was your weekend ?"
My answer, "Good.With BF".
So when they ask, "Boy friend ?!"
My answer, "Nope.Brand Factory! :D".
"So how was your weekend ?"
My answer, "Good.With BF".
So when they ask, "Boy friend ?!"
My answer, "Nope.Brand Factory! :D".
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Sunday
Sundays were always slow days for me. Boring almost. A day to do absolutely nothing, giving in to my lazy nature(under control during the 6 days with the greatest difficulty). Almost like a baby's day really- awake at 11, no breakfast, take a long hot bath, eat a hot lunch, and go back to sleep. Rise again in the evening, eat , trouble a few people around for entertainment, and before you know it, its night- dinner time and drop off again. Bliss.
Job has made to shift to another city, Bangalore. The times, they are a changin'. Routine made me wake up at 6:30 am (!) this Sunday. (Yes, yes I too hate people who wake up so early.) Force of habit too strong for me though. Chores all done by 7:30 am, me and my friend, Snehal decided to go for a walk. (Yes, yes I too hate people who go for early morning walks.)
Bangalore always seems to be right in the way of cold winds. This morning was no different. We walked briskly to keep warm. The sun rising lazily was promising us a warmer day ahead. The wide roads were deserted almost. We walked along the pavement kicking stones and chatting as the great wise trees swooshed gently and watched over us.
A man was ironing clothes on his hand cart a little ahead. Surprisingly, Bangalore has no shops that iron clothes. People here get it done by men who move around with small wooden hand carts with charcoal irons. The steam burst off the freshly washed damp clothes as they were being pressed to perfection by the hot and heavy charcoal iron. Lovely smell as we walked past him.
A huge house was being built further on. The smell of cut wood was in the air now. The workmen were not around, the house looked deserted - Wood shavings and nails and iron railings strewn all over the yard from the previous day's work. But we knew that it would soon be full of laughter and life. A couple were giggling and chasing each other inside oblivious of any onlookers.
We saw a small neat park ahead and entered through the half- sunken wooden gate. The night's rain had darkened the trees and the mud, both giving off the heady sweet monsoon smell. The dew on the grasses washed our feet as we walked on through...
The long walk had given us a good appetite and we turned back after a while. Houses seemed awake now, with gardeners out, and newspapers off the porch and the women set to cooking breakfast- this because we smelled delicious sambhar being cooked ! Made us even more hungry.
One of the many roadside barbecues was open for business. Snehal is a vegetarian; it totally turns her off, the smell of crisply roasted spicy meat. I laughed loud as she avoided even looking in that direction and walked on fast.
We soon reached the bakery at the head of the main market. The aroma of fresh breads and cakes and rolls was too sweet for us to resist. We ate a piece of cake standing by the corner, watching as a jack fruit seller got to work cutting up a fruit. I love the way the fruit smells !
...too many strong aromas for us since morning. It was time to head home. The whole bustling market lay before us, but Snehal said we had to cook lunch. Our neighbors too would get to smell something heavenly today :-).
Saturday, May 10, 2008
she
"When did she buy those flower-pots?"
The sunlight was streaming in happily through the curtains, accompanying the cool morning breeze on its dance through the small rooms.I was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the Sunday newspaper spread out before me: battling the Sudoku monster.
The numbers were swirling around in my head, clearing and clouding up again together, when they were shot away abruptly by the question.
I looked up with a frown.He had a slight smile on his face.A funny smile it was…a nostalgic quality to it.Like when you are thinking of someone very very far away.For a moment I was confused. 'She'? But only for a moment.He was referring to her of course, my mother.And he really wasn’t asking me.Just one of those questions that abruptly jumps out in the silence.
"Which flower pots?"
"You know…the ones with the plant all flowing over the edges…"
Then it hit me.The scene.Very badly.I had forgotten it.I looked down in a flash.
"When we were here", I replied.
I pretended to continue solving the puzzle.But in fact that question had reminded me of a hot summer morning, a long time back.
She had dragged me to the nursery to buy plants.We had just moved to our new home and she had the typical womanly instinct to fill the empty space around with plants.Such a boring expedition for someone my age.I must have been 7 or 8.I guess she didnt want to go alone.Even a kid who could offer no help in choosing plants was better than no company at all.The nursery you see was far from home.I wanted to go with my brother, he was off to play cricket.I was in that brother worship phase-used to tag along with him everywhere.But instead I was to go with her, to buy plants! Even the fact that she said "flowering plants dear" didn’t help.
The walk was unpleasant, on a hot dusty road and under the cruel glare of the sun.My open sandals got to work- gathering up as much soil as they could.I tried hanging on her hand, on the end of her pallu even, so I wouldnt have to walk.But she shook me off and one dangerous look was enough to make me behave civilised at least for a while.
It was the longest walk. (Just a 5 min walk really…It's funny how everything seems big when you are small).
We reached the nursery and the first thing I saw was an old abandoned shed.I ran towards it, full of the most interesting tools, like hoes and spades!Rusted and dirty.
And eerie creatures hiding in the shadows…that were waiting to eat me up…
I was lost in the world of the Shed soon enough.I heard her shout from somewhere not to wander too far away.I played around the cool shed for a long time as she argued with the maali over the prices.She finally called me, saying we were going .I looked with regret at the Shed.
"Are we coming back again?" I asked.
"Yes.I just saw the plants today.We'll buy tomorrow.Lets go."
I cannot remember whether we went back again.We must have...I remember the plants, in all shapes and sizes, around our house. (The same plants died silently of neglect when she fell sick.)It's true I think, now.The words I read once-"People do not die.They are only forgotten and pass into oblivion".
We sat silent for some time…both of us.Thinking of her.
The sunlight was streaming in happily through the curtains, accompanying the cool morning breeze on its dance through the small rooms.I was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the Sunday newspaper spread out before me: battling the Sudoku monster.
The numbers were swirling around in my head, clearing and clouding up again together, when they were shot away abruptly by the question.
I looked up with a frown.He had a slight smile on his face.A funny smile it was…a nostalgic quality to it.Like when you are thinking of someone very very far away.For a moment I was confused. 'She'? But only for a moment.He was referring to her of course, my mother.And he really wasn’t asking me.Just one of those questions that abruptly jumps out in the silence.
"Which flower pots?"
"You know…the ones with the plant all flowing over the edges…"
Then it hit me.The scene.Very badly.I had forgotten it.I looked down in a flash.
"When we were here", I replied.
I pretended to continue solving the puzzle.But in fact that question had reminded me of a hot summer morning, a long time back.
She had dragged me to the nursery to buy plants.We had just moved to our new home and she had the typical womanly instinct to fill the empty space around with plants.Such a boring expedition for someone my age.I must have been 7 or 8.I guess she didnt want to go alone.Even a kid who could offer no help in choosing plants was better than no company at all.The nursery you see was far from home.I wanted to go with my brother, he was off to play cricket.I was in that brother worship phase-used to tag along with him everywhere.But instead I was to go with her, to buy plants! Even the fact that she said "flowering plants dear" didn’t help.
The walk was unpleasant, on a hot dusty road and under the cruel glare of the sun.My open sandals got to work- gathering up as much soil as they could.I tried hanging on her hand, on the end of her pallu even, so I wouldnt have to walk.But she shook me off and one dangerous look was enough to make me behave civilised at least for a while.
It was the longest walk. (Just a 5 min walk really…It's funny how everything seems big when you are small).
We reached the nursery and the first thing I saw was an old abandoned shed.I ran towards it, full of the most interesting tools, like hoes and spades!Rusted and dirty.
And eerie creatures hiding in the shadows…that were waiting to eat me up…
I was lost in the world of the Shed soon enough.I heard her shout from somewhere not to wander too far away.I played around the cool shed for a long time as she argued with the maali over the prices.She finally called me, saying we were going .I looked with regret at the Shed.
"Are we coming back again?" I asked.
"Yes.I just saw the plants today.We'll buy tomorrow.Lets go."
I cannot remember whether we went back again.We must have...I remember the plants, in all shapes and sizes, around our house. (The same plants died silently of neglect when she fell sick.)It's true I think, now.The words I read once-"People do not die.They are only forgotten and pass into oblivion".
We sat silent for some time…both of us.Thinking of her.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
i love SOA
http://soafacts.com/
elective in college.Best site about it.
my fave quote:
You don't go to war with the SOA you want. You go to war with the SOA you've got - either way SOA annihilates the enemy (unless the enemy is also SOA, in which case SOA annihilates you).
elective in college.Best site about it.
my fave quote:
You don't go to war with the SOA you want. You go to war with the SOA you've got - either way SOA annihilates the enemy (unless the enemy is also SOA, in which case SOA annihilates you).
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
why men are from mars and women are from venus
Boy: ...so its ok.We are not going to die in the next 20 years.
Girl:[smiles] Actually I might die the very next second.
Girl:[smiles] Actually I might die the very next second.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
My cycle
(based on a true story )
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.Mi pan cycle var shalela jaanar”
That was me, 9 years old. My Brother had just bought a new cycle (Hero Ranger. Blue and black color).He was going to ride to school on it and I too wanted to do the same. I didn’t even know to balance on one, let alone ride it on the roads. One of my many illogical desires.
This was met of course with derisive laughter. Brother dear laughed too…that was his occupation then- adding insult to my injury. But then Papa took me on his lap, and said,
“Learn to ride first. If you cannot ride, how can you go to school on it?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The man makes a point. Brother was still snickering. First things first, I decided. Tipped over his school bag on the floor.Muhahaha. (Revenge is so sweet.)
But then I forgot about cycle for some time.Er for some years actually. Then I was 12.I saw other kids ride around on their cycles. I wanted one too again.
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.”
“Learn to ride first.”
“Teach me.”
“Look at your brother. He learnt to ride all by himself! He took no one’s help.”
I cringed. “Omigod! Why didn’t you say so before? Lets call the PM right now and give him the Bravery award!” I wanted to say. But I let it go.
Ok.I had to learn how to ride at all costs.Who could teach me?
Saturday morning. Aai says, “Ill teach you.”
I looked at her skeptically. “YOU know how to ride!?”
“Of course dumbo.I drive the vehicle don’t I?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The woman makes a point.So we stepped out in the morning sun. Her chores left half done. My TV watching left half done. And brother’s old cycle. I used to hate boys cycles.HATE.Stupid horizontal bar. Stupid fat tyres (makes balancing more difficult).Stupid stupid cycles.
“Ill ride. You see.” she said.
Ok…good plan so far.Didnt involve me climbing on stupid cycle.Aai struggled to get on for some time. But she was too short. Her sari not making matters any easier. She gave up soon enough.
“Stupid boy’s cycle.” she said.
“I concur”, I replied.
Back to pavilion. Next stop. Best friend.Gysler.
“Whaaa..? I’m not teaching. Go ride it re.Nothing to it. Call me if u fall. And don’t drop it too many times. You’ll have to pay if anything breaks. Here take the key.”
So there I was, alone with her cycle (BSA Ladybird. Red and copper color.).It seemed not to like me at all. I tried riding, but it was of no use. I used to go a few feet or so and topple. I had no sense of balance at all. I was near crying. Why can’t Papa teach me? Why can’t Aai push? Is brother getting paid to be mean to me? (If so, how much?).Gysler so selfish. Why can’t I do anything right? So I was sitting on cycle and staring at ground and being plain miserable.
Then suddenly, “Haan chalo.Ill push for some distance.Dont look behind. And balance re.You have to think of going straight. Think straight.Dont look down. And go fast. Easier to balance if you go fast.”
Gysler was back. She must’ve seen my pathetic attempts. Yes!! Sympathy. Finally.
“Ok….” I tried to sound scared and unsure.
“Pedal already.” she snapped.
So I pedalled.She pushed and did the old trick of letting go and not telling me.
I cycled for the first time that day. After some time she said to practice turning. And repeated warning of not to break the cycle a lot. I got turning around in next few days.
“Papa mala cycle paahije.”
This was getting repetitive. Papa didn’t even bother to lower the newspaper he was reading this time.
“Yeah.I told you. First learn to cycle. Then we’ll take.” he said.Then came my moment of triumph.
“I know how to ride.” I announced proudly, loudly.
(I think Aai dropped a utensil in the kitchen).
“Oh? Show me then.”
So we went out. And I cycled around. Turned too. WITHOUT putting my feet down. Now that is really difficult. I stopped near him.
“Ok.We’ll go buy some time this week.” he said. He turned and went back into the house.
So on 7th march 1999, I got my cycle. My first cycle.Now I could go wherever I wanted.No more would I beg to be dropped somewhere when going out.I would make my own way, my own road.Funny things happened because of this cycle. I remember the look on Gysu’s face when I cycled for first time that day .She seemed amused. I remember Papa’s beaming face when he saw me cycle around. He didn’t say anything then, but he seemed proud. I cycle to Shailu’s house many times. She takes me dubs; we go full speed down the slopes of Pashan, our hair flying like crazy, eyes watering and laughing like mad girls.
It’s a blue/black BSA Ladybird, by the way. It’s become old now. The basket is broken, paint is coming off, bell is broken too, chain cover refuses to fit, the left brake always rusts for some strange reason, and it rattles like hell over the potholed roads. But I don’t think I would give it up for anything(not even a new vehicle :)).Period.
(based on a true story )
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.Mi pan cycle var shalela jaanar”
That was me, 9 years old. My Brother had just bought a new cycle (Hero Ranger. Blue and black color).He was going to ride to school on it and I too wanted to do the same. I didn’t even know to balance on one, let alone ride it on the roads. One of my many illogical desires.
This was met of course with derisive laughter. Brother dear laughed too…that was his occupation then- adding insult to my injury. But then Papa took me on his lap, and said,
“Learn to ride first. If you cannot ride, how can you go to school on it?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The man makes a point. Brother was still snickering. First things first, I decided. Tipped over his school bag on the floor.Muhahaha. (Revenge is so sweet.)
But then I forgot about cycle for some time.Er for some years actually. Then I was 12.I saw other kids ride around on their cycles. I wanted one too again.
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.”
“Learn to ride first.”
“Teach me.”
“Look at your brother. He learnt to ride all by himself! He took no one’s help.”
I cringed. “Omigod! Why didn’t you say so before? Lets call the PM right now and give him the Bravery award!” I wanted to say. But I let it go.
Ok.I had to learn how to ride at all costs.Who could teach me?
Saturday morning. Aai says, “Ill teach you.”
I looked at her skeptically. “YOU know how to ride!?”
“Of course dumbo.I drive the vehicle don’t I?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The woman makes a point.So we stepped out in the morning sun. Her chores left half done. My TV watching left half done. And brother’s old cycle. I used to hate boys cycles.HATE.Stupid horizontal bar. Stupid fat tyres (makes balancing more difficult).Stupid stupid cycles.
“Ill ride. You see.” she said.
Ok…good plan so far.Didnt involve me climbing on stupid cycle.Aai struggled to get on for some time. But she was too short. Her sari not making matters any easier. She gave up soon enough.
“Stupid boy’s cycle.” she said.
“I concur”, I replied.
Back to pavilion. Next stop. Best friend.Gysler.
“Whaaa..? I’m not teaching. Go ride it re.Nothing to it. Call me if u fall. And don’t drop it too many times. You’ll have to pay if anything breaks. Here take the key.”
So there I was, alone with her cycle (BSA Ladybird. Red and copper color.).It seemed not to like me at all. I tried riding, but it was of no use. I used to go a few feet or so and topple. I had no sense of balance at all. I was near crying. Why can’t Papa teach me? Why can’t Aai push? Is brother getting paid to be mean to me? (If so, how much?).Gysler so selfish. Why can’t I do anything right? So I was sitting on cycle and staring at ground and being plain miserable.
Then suddenly, “Haan chalo.Ill push for some distance.Dont look behind. And balance re.You have to think of going straight. Think straight.Dont look down. And go fast. Easier to balance if you go fast.”
Gysler was back. She must’ve seen my pathetic attempts. Yes!! Sympathy. Finally.
“Ok….” I tried to sound scared and unsure.
“Pedal already.” she snapped.
So I pedalled.She pushed and did the old trick of letting go and not telling me.
I cycled for the first time that day. After some time she said to practice turning. And repeated warning of not to break the cycle a lot. I got turning around in next few days.
“Papa mala cycle paahije.”
This was getting repetitive. Papa didn’t even bother to lower the newspaper he was reading this time.
“Yeah.I told you. First learn to cycle. Then we’ll take.” he said.Then came my moment of triumph.
“I know how to ride.” I announced proudly, loudly.
(I think Aai dropped a utensil in the kitchen).
“Oh? Show me then.”
So we went out. And I cycled around. Turned too. WITHOUT putting my feet down. Now that is really difficult. I stopped near him.
“Ok.We’ll go buy some time this week.” he said. He turned and went back into the house.
So on 7th march 1999, I got my cycle. My first cycle.Now I could go wherever I wanted.No more would I beg to be dropped somewhere when going out.I would make my own way, my own road.Funny things happened because of this cycle. I remember the look on Gysu’s face when I cycled for first time that day .She seemed amused. I remember Papa’s beaming face when he saw me cycle around. He didn’t say anything then, but he seemed proud. I cycle to Shailu’s house many times. She takes me dubs; we go full speed down the slopes of Pashan, our hair flying like crazy, eyes watering and laughing like mad girls.
It’s a blue/black BSA Ladybird, by the way. It’s become old now. The basket is broken, paint is coming off, bell is broken too, chain cover refuses to fit, the left brake always rusts for some strange reason, and it rattles like hell over the potholed roads. But I don’t think I would give it up for anything(not even a new vehicle :)).Period.
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