Some gyaan from a sick blogger!

As if the weekend blogger meet and lot of weekend home errands weren’t enough to keep me busy, my body decided to do something “in season”. So last evening, I got a heat stroke. Often, I wish to get ill so that I get to take an off. But when it finally happened, I realized one must be careful about one’s wishes.

More than myself, its Mr. Hubby who bears the brunt of my illness. In his words, whenever I get high fever, I make sounds like a little puppy in my sleep (now I seriously doubt that!). But I sure keep him busy with frequent temperature checks. Last night, as my fever crossed 101, I imagined mom by my side. As a kid I used to keep my head in her lap and ask her to gently caress my forehead, and the touch of her magical fingers used to make me feel so relaxed.  Alas, like a non renewable energy source, mom’s love is gone forever with her, and I am my own mom now.

I guess life throws it back to us. We take our moms for granted and make full use of their pampering and care. And then one day, destiny says “role reversal”, and “thud” comes the baggage of responsibilities on our head. No time to stop or relax. I don’t remember when did I ever see mom rest in a fever. And me too, like totally shameless kids did nothing to help/comfort her, perhaps too spoiled by her care. So now life has put me in the same place as my mom. No time to sit or relax or crib and cry. Life is like an unstoppable conveyer belt. It has to go on and be serviced constantly, no matter who does it and how.

Its only when sudden incidents happen that shake us (like illness, loss of a dear one, material loss), that we realize life is beyond the mad rush. And so on the positive side, I was foolishly happy for the fever, for it reaffirmed to me that our health is the most important asset, a job is just “a” job, and our “me time” song needs constant rehearsals in order to be perfected. Things we love to do deserve same time and dedication as the people we love so I spent the afternoon sunk in my bed with my laptop, reading some amazing posts of my new found blogger friends at the blogger meet. Laughed at some while some got me thinking, and some even inspired me!  Wow, now that’s a day well spent and it did indeed lift up my spirits.

Just like in Bhagwat Gita, Lord Krishna says he takes birth whenever sin on earth crosses its limit, similarly the body takes to illness whenever it gets exhausted by the non stop operations.

And now, as if it has read the minds of my bugged readers ready to close the page, my rumbling tummy takes me away (by the way what better can a glass of Glucon D make me write?)…

So, till we meet again in comfort,

Cheers to good health!

4 gone 2 to go!

The ratio now reads 4:2! Exactly opposite of the last time I updated my blog on the deadly exams. So, before I refill my arsenal for tomorrow’s fight, lemme quickly update you on what I went through last 2 days.

A week end break between exams sounds like party time, but when it does come in, one realizes things were better without it. Especially if one has more than 2 exams after the 2 day weekend, half of the energy is spent juggling between various subjects. On Sunday afternoon, I learnt the difference between distance and displacement that my Physics teacher had emphasized so much on in school. Even though I had spent Friday and Saturday studying for the later exams, I couldn’t even remember the names of topics! Back to square one! Nothing retained in mind and I had not even started preparing for the lengthy Monday paper.

The whole batch had been taking law very lightly, considering it to be a “cram and vomit” subject. But a night before the exam, we had our moment of realization. Watsapp, FB and the college mail was bubbling with notes and tips, powerpoint presentations that promised to get the entire Contract Act into your mind in less than 15 slides. But there was limited grey matter and unlimited laws haunting us with their numerous clauses. I looked at the Ganeshji in my room and said, “Sheer breach of code of conduct, why do people get into so many wrongdoings? Each act becomes an act and then we have to get our act together.” Hehe…

These days, immediately after waking up, I feel like a patient of short term memory loss and that’s why the morning revision holds immense importance. As if the ordeal I went through the previous night wasn’t enough, I had another prickly sense of realization the moment I began to write the paper. To know a law and to write answers are two things poles apart. Things had to be written in “a” sequence only using “the” specific words, else the meaning changed! To write or not to write became the question and one couldn’t write in the good old layman language.

In the middle of the paper, I also discovered that my “chanchal” mind had smartly distracted and was throwing me the idea of this post. I quickly hushed it up, though smiling at my shameless creativity. Since no contract is valid without a lawful consideration, I too did my bit to avoid the breach and somehow managed the jargons in the paper.

The next day and night was like an akhand paath (non stop prayer session) as today’s paper had anything and everything as part of the curriculum. Some friends, who couldn’t ignore their devotion towards IPL and Sir Ravinder Jadeja, took the chance of just brushing up the numericals. But galz are the scared lot. I went on and on and on but the course wouldn’t just finish!

I reached Just in time (which incidentally was also a topic in today’s paper). My friends smiled and pointed towards the front bench desk adjacent to the invigilator desk – the only vacant space left for latecomers. As the teacher distributed today’s paper, my mind instantly played a famous bhajan by Hari Om Sharan “tera raamji karengey beda paar, udaasi mann kahey ko darey” (why worry oh my dear sad heart, Lord will take care of everything!). And he did, the teacher had played a good Santa by giving so many choices that each one had something for himself!

As soon as I came to my room, I played the elimination round (yes, sounds funny but when I am through with an exam, I stack all those notes and books separately and just feel good when the stack increases with every exam, relative to the stack for pending subjects….something a friend taught me in school).

I know a lot of people might find this very stupid and melodramatic, but for all those people, I just have one thing to say “You have to step in my shoes to understand what it is like.”

Look who’s here again!

With much sadness, I announce that its exam time again.  Exams I feel are like common cold – no matter how much u dread them, or try to escape, they are bound to catch u. Just like common cold, there is no perfect way to handle exams, even if you know the perfect tricks. There are always the surprise moments which leave you laughing at your confidence – sometimes at excess of it, or the lack of it. But nevertheless, like cold, they come once every season, you have to go through the rituals & they are gone.

As a kid, even though I used to write my exams on my own, yet, I feel they actually were the responsibility of my mom. Poor mom used to wake up with me at the odd hours, helping me with anything and everything. Sometimes motivating me when I used to get depressed, otherwise chase and scold me to study, then her sweet curd before I went to write the paper; and waiting for me outside the examination hall, immediately taking the paper and asking what I wrote. Mothers are like x ray machines – she used to get my state of mind by looking at my face. So, if I avoided eye contact with her, she used to say “hand me the question paper & just forget about it”, never even waiting for me to give an explanation. And mind you, this happened right through college!

But I have to admit that had it not been for the fear of her scolding, I would have never studied the way I did. Like most youngsters, I too didn’t realize the long term effects & used to study just to finish the task at hand and make mom proud during the result day. And I used to wait for the day when I would grow up and no longer have to write papers.

And now, I wonder what I am doing with myself. There is no compulsion to study. I am no longer answerable for any course I take up. Yet, I study. I get into the same activity that I had waited to get rid off! And when one level is over, I promptly enroll myself for the next one, raising the bar high, axing my own foot.

So , I have an exam tomorrow (and yes, look at my guts, I am blogging!) and because I don’t feel like studying the Oh so tough subject, I ask myself, what do I do to get me studying?  All the fears of scolding etc have long faded into history. The same parents, no matter how I perform, now appreciate me for having tried. Mr Hubby always encourages me to just give my best and dump the rest!

The only motivation left now, is perhaps to genuinely learn something, to add some value to life, and to try my best for future. All long term stereotype gyaan. No mom now to scold me and get me into instant action. No short term motivation! But that’s what I always used to dread. And now, when it has gone, I am finding ways to get a short term motivation! Life….hehe…

Me wonderzzz…

Oof, exams are here again,

Bringing with them lots of pain

No matter how much I study

Everything goes in vain

Yet, they say no pain no gain

In this world, u gotta sustain

So I whip my slowing brain

Before I go insane!

And as always, here are some Google pics...

To like or not to like

Man is a social animal. It’s good to share thoughts, feelings and opinions. One of the reasons why we bloggers can’t resist our itch to blog! But my post today is dedicated to some men and women, for whom being social is all about useless, baseless updates nobody is interested in. Yes, I am talking about the hyperactive junta on social networking sites. I had been resisting myself away from writing this one, but a trip to my good old Facebook provoked me to blog it out.

We Indians love to network, and so when few years ago, Orkut came to India, we rejoiced in excitement! Just like Hindi movie brothers separated in Kumbh Mela, long lost friends got back in touch, thanks to Orkut. One could share pics, scraps, have a cute little profile and could even have unlimited sponsored praises from friends. That was not enough to satiate the appetite of social networking hungry netizens. Then came Facebook (FB) – like a super shakti avtar & started a revolution of apps. More benefits for free! Wow! Like kids going for bigger piece of the cake, we went crazy with FB. I even knew a friend’s daughter who made herself a little pouch to keep her stationery, made a face on it and named it FB.

It was fun – one could play games, use apps along with the regular Orkut features; until it came under the scanner of attention seeking junta. And now I see FB updates driving us all crazy. And if have a smart phone with a FB app, be prepared for the constant “ping ping”. The moment one reaches his/her homepage, there’s a field mentioning “what’s on your mind”. Always proactive at making their own assumptions, many people have taken it in the literal sense. So, you have people posting even the minutest details – from their current location to the stuff they are eating; almost like a dutiful child following his mother. You can even trace them by following their FB updates.

Once in a while if you had something special, it would interest us, but who would be interested in knowing what are you eating everyday (along with a pic!). And if by God’s grace, a picture has come out well, it has to be on FB even if it means bombarding your FB friends with constant updates.  I have even seeing some teenagers competing for number of “likes” and followers.

I have a friend who updates everything from her present state of mind to what she is doing etc etc…even if she or anyone in her family is unwell, you can see the latest status on her FB page, along with a pic of course!

Its good to share…but over sharing is annoying. I know someone who posts the entire 100+ pics album whenever she goes for some trip, and then asks “did u see the pics?” I feel like saying “Do I have nothing else to do in life than seeing each and every pic of urs?” Then I realized a better way of handling this – “the power of click”. Just go and like the entire album and you will be spared the torture. Who cares if I actually saw or liked the pics.

I know FB lovers, including my 14 year old niece will hate me for writing this post. But sorry people, I have no other option. I joined FB to connect and share – but when the pressure of “likes” qualifies to be “unliked”, my heart shouts “spare the torture”!!!

Pic Courtesy:Google Search

Shameless Optimism

It’s not a good habit to wash one’s dirty linen in public. People often hide their flaws and inflate even the minutest of qualities they have. I choose to be honest with my blog. I have never been the athlete types (though I ran the Delhi Half Marathon 4yrs ago). My visits to the jogging park near my place are more like one time guest appearances. Like majority of women, marriage has given me too bliss in the form of extra calories & piles of weight.

2.5yrs back, hubby & I went for a trek to Valley of flowers (am yet to blog about it! How lazy of me), Tungnath Chopta & Deoria Taal. I was like a kid who had to be shown lollipop to get work done. Hubby was at his motivating best, as I struggled & gasped for breath. After that trip, I decided to go for a trek only when I have consistently built lung capacity by running in the park. However, humans, being humans, love to procrastinate.

The dormant volcano in me was erupted by Discovery Channel last week. They showed a documentary on an all women group from the Indian Army who went & scaled Mt Everest. Immediately, my heart pounded with enthusiasm – when they can, why can’t I?

Someone rightly said “Dil to bachha hai ji, thoda kacha hai ji”. I was horribly bad with the Valley of flower trek & here I was, secretly dreaming for scaling the Everest or any such tough trek!

I looked on my side, mom in law & hubby were happily enjoying the documentary, oblivious to the khichdi that simmered in my mind. But the question was, how could I even mention? Like in movies, I even imagined myself disclosing my plan to them & almost instantly becoming laughing stock.

So, I just sighed. “This trek is tough na?” I asked hubby, pretended just curious. “Tough, it’s the toughest! Only few members of the groups are able to move from Camp 4 to the summit, & so many people even lose their lives. Besides it’s an expensive trek” He said. “Hmmmm….”, I said. Me wondered & wondered. “Forget it Shaivi, they will laugh at u.” I convinced myself & tried to focus on the documentary.

The heart, well, had other plans. Almost involuntary, something inside me got busy planning. “So what if it’s expensive, I could delay that ring I have been wanting to buy. Saving my salary plus some borrowing would help. But what about the main issue, remember how he was laughing at me when I was ready to give up after every 100m in the last trek? But, that was 2.5 yrs ago, this time, I will practice hard, go for a 3km run every morning so that I don’t lose breath. You only live once, why not stretch the limits, adrenaline rush, blah blah blah……” The heart was going on and on! The whistle of the cooker finally interrupted my fairy tale plans.

Being realistic, I don’t aim for Everest at this stage, but even if I manage a tough trek by the end of this year, it would give my self-confidence a new high score!

Still don’t have the guts to reveal my secret plan to Mr. Hubby. While chances are he will ask me to work on an action plan to build my stamina, I fear he may laugh at me & remind me of the previous treks. But despite knowing my previous trek records, not once has my heart/mind thought, “I can’t”. Not once have I stopped planning for it.

That’s optimism – shameless, at its best!

Pic Courtesy : Google Search

Ek Chhoti Si Hate Story

This blog received a Wow mention @ Blogadda!

Location: Finance lecture

Actors : Mind & heart

Director: But of course, our genius blogger

Background Score: Professor with his fusion of jargons & philosophy

Pic Courtesy: Google Search

Once, the mind and heart were sitting together in a lecture. The mind was trying its best to comprehend and retain the professor’s shower of technical jargons. The heart, on the other hand was greedily looking at the iphone screen on the second bench and the game being played on it.

Heart: I forgot to get my laptop, else I too would have survived the two hour session.

Mind : Shhh! Can’t you see I’m trying hard to concentrate on the lecture? You better not disturb me.

Heart (in a playful mood): Concentrate…ooh as if your rusting neurons & grey matter are as good as that topper sitting on the last bench. Why waste time, when you won’t remember a thing at the sight of the examination paper. No matter how much you try, you never leave your parampara (ritual) of cribbing after every exam. Chill! I have an idea. Let’s try to sleep with eyes wide open!

Mind (infuriated): You wicked heart! How dare you call me inferior? If I don’t cooperate, you will go far from being a good heart to an insane one. Had I not been there, you wouldn't even remember who to love and who to hate. Imagine, what would have been your plight had I created few cross connections here & there.

Heart (with a foul face): Monsieur Heart, just because you do me few favors don’t mean you run the show. Don’t forget, if I leave, nothing survives. Business is all you mean. But at the end of the day, it is I who decide whether the person is happy or sad.

Mind: But I give consciousness, else…

The professor spotted the dilated pupils & immediately popped up a question. Poor mind hastily got its act together & the heart had a hearty, wicked laugh.

Two hours into the lecture, the heart had it enough.

Heart: I am yawning nonstop. Can’t take it anymore. I wanna doze off. Shut up your useless activity & let me rest.

Mind: You think I like all this? It is so tough for me. But what to do. I am the mind. I don’t have the luxury of wanting & desiring like you have. I have to do what is right.

Heart: But we can take a break! You are so tired my dear.

Mind: I am the mind, it’s a horrible life, I can’t rest till the class is on, else I won’t have any inputs even to my subconscious memory…it's technical stuff, you won’t get it. Just stay quiet for another hour & then we can take the desired nap.

Heart: Alright dear, I have no choice, can’t leave you. But I have a condition. Every 5 minutes I want an update on the minutes left for the class to be over, else I will trouble you with my useless nonsense & you can’t even ignore me else I will make you sad.

Mind: You are such a Betaal!

Heart: And u are my darling king Vikramaditya! Hate me, curse me, but u can’t leave me.

Mind: I hate u

Heart: Like I love u

Mind: Okay, all conditions agreed. Now keep quiet for the next hour

Heart (winks): Shhhhhh

The mind took notes religiously for the next one hour while the heart looked here & there and waited for the next time checked.

As the class got over,

Heart (screaming): yippeeee

Mind: Phew! Finally….I am exhausted….who am i? A zombie?

Heart: Hehe

Mind: You must be very sleepy. Sorry. Lets catch up on sleep.

Heart: Now that the class is over, on second thoughts…Neah!  Miss Youtube is waiting for a movie date & I must look my best!

Mind (winks) : Oh!!!!!

Mind & Heart (singing): 

The class ends, the class ends, 

We have become best friends

Lalala!  Lalala!

To see Miss youtube, we cant wait

Lets rush for the movie date!
Lalala! Lalala!

Pic Courtesy: Google Search

This post is a part of <a title="Write Over the Weekend" href="http://blog.blogadda.com/category/write-over-the-weekend-wow" target="_blank">Write Over the Weekend</a>, an initiative for <a title="Reach out to the largest community of Indian Bloggers" href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">Indian Bloggers</a> by BlogAdda

Men and their “get and forget”

Just like New Year resolutions are meant to be broken, my anti blogging plans always end up in the trash bin! I had told myself – no blogging till the exams are over, no checking of page views. But Dil pe kisee ka zor nahi (nobody can control matters of heart)…and the heart feels like shouting it out loud on this blog!

Like most wives, I too have someone to blame for this problem…

My Super Busy Husband…

So, while he works it out in the office with some new team who is keeping him away from his wife, he doesn’t realize he has become my latest bakra for “Shaivi Ka Funda” Wow!

We always long what we don’t have, get into a “do or die” situation to grab it….as if it’s the most important thing in this world. And once, we have it as ours, closed in the closet, safely. Since there is no risk of losing it now. Such is with men (I know men reading this post will abhor me, but guys, I can’t help but sound feminist, I am agitated right now). 

Scene 1: You see, I am not a typical chocolate, flowers loving girl. And to impress a literature freak like me, he indeed had to work hard. And his courtship period report card has been very impressive…reading out my favorite blog to me, writing poems, birthday wishes in 10 different languages, a  new adjective every sms, discussing new books everyday…etc etc etc…he did it all with finesse. I used to wonder then, is there really something as an epitome of perfect gentleman? Coz he proved it every day. Once he actually stopped on the road while going to office so that he could focus on talking to me. NO work, no meeting was more important than me…and I found this too good to be true. The woman in me, Oooh…was on cloud nine!

Then marriage happens…

And now…

Scene 2:  He wakes up in the morning but waits to be woken up officially by me, announcing tea in a particular way. And just when I am enjoying that favorite article in the Sunday paper, he orders another cup. Had I been a restaurateur, I would have loved the extra order…but my reaction is that of a clerk in a government office, when his boss throws and additional file, just when he is about to reach the new high score on solitaire! I continue to look into my paper like a pigeon who closes his eyes, but a 2:1 ratio (the hubby & mom in law v/s me) has me in the kitchen again!

So, I was saying something about men. Once they know they have us, all other things take precedence on us…the boss who never gives them credit, the colleagues ready to stab in the back, the pest friend always dropping in at the wrong time, all intruders are welcome in the “us” time. All is fair with men and their work. But we women know how to juggle various hats. And then they shower the “you should have done….”gyaan…Men…Phew!

I know now you will say one has his moods, commitments, work…but where is our work when we take out time to talk to them, where is our mood when we happily listen to their stuff even if we have things piled up to do…because we women don’t believe in "get and forget!"

I know Mr. hubby, you will hate me after reading this post…but what could I do…I called you today at work, wanting to have a nice little conversation & the word “boss, busy, business, bye” from you sounded like “blah blah blah” . I know u men have a lot of work, meetings and commitments, but so have we. And add to that, we have home, ur family, our family, kitchen and a lot of blah blah blah to attend to. But we never ignore your calls, always listen even if we are busy & give you priority long even after the courtship period is over. We don’t want you men to leave the world for us, but what we need is some (actually as much as u can) pampering, quality time & PRIORITY…

And now, an honest confession….Now that I have vented it out, I feel I have inflated the issue, just to get some fodder for today’s blog…J

Blogging ke liye kuch bhi karegaaaaa! (Anything for a blog!)

Pic courtesy: Google search

Letter to Santa from a Delhi girl…

Dear Santa,

Welcome once again! I have been waiting for you eagerly & my new red stockings are ready too, waiting for their treat. Thanks so much Santa for the new stilettos last year. They were a rage at the parties! It was fun to flaunt them as other gals felt J.

But this year, I don’t want any boots. I don’t even know if I will be ever able to party freely the way I used to. You wanna know why?

A few days ago, a girl in my city was gang raped brutally by men while she was on her way home after watching a movie. She was in a bus at 9pm (well before our parties begin!), was clad decent enough & was accompanied by a male friend when this happened.

This incident has shaken the city so much. My parents have set a 8pm deadline to come back. No late nights. Combined studies mean having to wrap up before dark else stay over at friend’s house where my brother will pick me up from. No shorts. No short skirts. I feel I am in a jail! Mother tells me it’s all to protect me. The city has become very unsafe & they don’t want me to face any trouble.

But Santa, why do I and my female friends face the brunt of a handful of maniacs? It is about the problem of a few men with a psychotic brains and lustful eyes. It is they who should be leashed, not us. If dogs go mad, they are locked, not the people. Unfortunately, here, there are just too many of them (the dogs aka rapists) and by the time you know they have a problem, they have already attacked innocent girls.

I don’t want fancy gifts this year Santa…RATHER…

I want my freedom back. What is the point of having good clothes & shoes when I can’t party? What is the point of living in a happening city when I can’t enjoy the night life? I want the freedom to live my life MY WAY. I want the freedom to wear whatever I like without the dogs staring at me with hungry looks. I want my parents to be relaxed the next time I take public transport at night. I want my government to act to the concerns of millions of girl like me. In the freezing cold this morning, canons of water were fired at my friends who went to India Gate today to participate in non violent protests. Santa, I want the government to work on the rape laws & accused instead of troubling innocent people. I don’t want the accused to walk away with the loopholes in our judiciary system. I want severe punishment for the accused so that next time such men think twice before striking at a girl. Santa, I want justice for that girl – an eye for an eye.

And finally Santa, I want a speedy recovery for that girl & strength for her family. She has endured enough and so have we – the girls of Delhi.

Donno Santa if all this will fit the red stockings, but I know you have never disappointed me…I shall be waiting….

Merry Christmas!

One evening in an auto…

When you’re back to Delhi after a while, the first thing you want is to rush to the kitchen and gorge on some homely delicacies. And the last thing u want is nonsense on the way home. Back to Delhi after a fortnight, I was super eager to be on time for a family dinner, especially since it wasn't at my place (so no cooking, serving or cleaning)! Not wanting to waste time, I took an auto from Dhaula Kuan, where my Rajasthan Roadways bus had dropped me. Unless you are not familiar with the Delhi auto protocols, you will definitely be taken for a ride. First thing first, no matter how many checks and rules our reformist govt comes up with, Delhi autowallahs will NEVER go by the meter. They will give some excuse or the other and would rather abandon u on the road than take the meter. If you go for the non meter option, the amount they quote depends more on their impression of yours than the distance to be covered. If you are a single woman looking for an auto post sunset, they will quote 30% more and remind u every 2 seconds later that it’s getting “late” madam! Wow! If u are soooo concerned about our safety, then better get your act right first and turn OFF your X ray eyes!

Anyway, if you are new to the city, or don’t want any mess, prepaid auto booths are best option. So I happily paid the money and boarded my auto. The auto wallah, chewing pan masala and donning a gamchha gave me an “X Ray” look and asked me…”madam, kahan ki slip lee hai?” The moment I uttered Karol Bagh, his face turned pale, as if I had said “Khooni Bagh” instead of “Karol Bagh”. He rushed to the prepaid booth cop and pleaded just like a student pleads for extra 5 minutes in an exam. But cops and teachers maintain their rules. So the guy was back, grumbling to himself. Pissed off, I asked him to return my receipt if he didn’t want to go. “It’s not like that madam, u see these cops don’t listen to us. Just now a Volvo came with Good passengers…but I will miss it now.” “Good passengers, what does he mean, I am a bad person? He doesn’t even know me. How can he call me bad?” I was about to shout at him when he started cribbing about his poverty & how he badly looks for long route passengers. “Oh, it’s the route that’s got to be Good”…I got it now.

He said “It’s so cold madam, I will have to go home and cook now. It’s so tough to live alone.” I was more interested in reaching home fast than listening to his cribbing. Experience has taught me when u are not interested in someone’s sob story, the “Hmm” always works. So, I gave an occasional “Hmmm” every now and then so that he doesn’t get offended and quickly takes me home.

However, my ordeal had just begun. Apparently the “Hmm” was enough encouragement for Mr. Chipkoo to carry forward the conversation. Within 5 minutes, he told me he is from Allahabad, stays alone near bypass, parents looking for a match, and even asked me how new was I to Delhi, whether I stayed with my family & whether I lived in my own house/rented accommodation. His too much too soon irritated me. “Rent pe rehney waalon ko discount detey ho kya bhaiya?” I asked. “Nahi madam, I wanted to know if being from Delhi, your parents have managed to own a house.” He said in his strong accent. We were on the unsafe ridge road & his questions were beginning to scare me now. I thought it safer to give him all fictitious details so that he doesn’t pester me just in case he is a psycho….so I told him I was living in a rented accommodation with my family.

That didn’t seem enough, for Mr. Chipkoo then said,”Madam, u are lucky u will get home cooked food & won’t have to cook like me. Do have a married brother whose wife cooks for you?” I’ve had it enough. I wished my adidas  shoes had a 3 inch pencil heel I could hit him with. “Bhaiyya, I am the daughter in law. And I cook, so u don’t tell me these stories” “You married madam? He looked around and gave me and “X Ray” look. Eeeeks! And he just kept looking back. “Accident ho jayega bhaiyya. Aagey dekho.” I said. “Nothing madam, I …. Could not make out from your attire….blah blah blah…this is a city…girls wear anything…blah blah blah”. I wished I had taken a bus. There are so many passengers there the driver wouldn’t care to talk to them. I looked at my phone. No signal. I couldn’t even call my husband to save me from this nonsense.

What followed then was even worse. He began some silly sob story about his parents trying to find a match, his love interest, who coincidentally met him in the same auto. She too like me, was a passenger, was talking to him like me (when did I do the talking?). How she fed him roasted peanuts as he drove her around. How she held his hand & proposed him. How he took her to the hotel for dinner and…

By now my frustration & irritation seemed no bounds. I was no longer interested in listening to this B grade movie script & to what happened in the hotel after dinner. So I pretended to call my husband. “Mere pati gussa ho rahey hain ki main late ho gayee hun.” I interrupted his nonsense. “Koi baat nahee madam, hum bhaiyya ko samjhaa dengey kitna tirraafffic thhaa.” Mr. CHipkoo was in full mood to meet my husband. Phew!

I was feeling really unsafe now. He was more irritating than the character of Vinay Pathak in Bheja Fry. Who knows, even a psycho who stalks women boarding his auto. I didn’t want him to see which house I entered. So I asked him to stop two lanes before my brother in law’s house & rushed home. I had escaped the torture of Mr.Chipkoo’s pulp fiction stories! Finallly!

Can’t say if this will deter me from taking an auto next time, but here are a few takeaways I have from this experience -

1. A simple “hmmmm” is also conversation.

2.  Delhi autowallahs are shameless not only with their “X Ray” vision & “rates” but also with their stories.

3.    No matter how much courage & tact you display, all husbands think their wives are fools & they never let go of their “what you should have rather done” moments. 

Silly Point

I have shared my blog with a few friends and listening to their reviews, I feel on the top of the world! Thanks all of u for your encouragement! Thanks to your encouragement, I am confident that regardless of whatever CGPA I fall into, I will surely do something good in life.

Well, now a serious problem I want to share with you all. Unknowingly, I have become a blogaddict. Sounds cool but I feel like a fool. I have a monstrous exam tomorrow and while others are busy practicing, the blogger in me has overpowered the studios me. Blog addiction is worse than any other addiction. Coz when u feel the urge, u have to satisfy it there and then. And your creative mind can have the “Eureka” moment anywhere – in the middle of the lecture, on the road,in the metro, at a social gathering,  in the washroom or even in the middle of the night. If not addressed at that moment, the idea vanishes, leaving behind heaps of regrets. Reminds me of my amateur poetry days. The peom had to be penned down the moment it was thought!

Since stress brings the best out of me, I have given in to my Eureka moment. And I have convinced myself to rush to preparation the minute I upload this (result will be the same anyway, so might as well give myself a few moments of joy).

Today’s blog is dedicated to a very special member of my project group thanks to whom, I have spent 2 precious hours of my preparation time completing something that was HIS responsibility. As I dug deep into the error full work he had done, I almost reached my boiling point. And he simply made a cute face and told me, “This is a group effort. Please complete it. You can vent out your frustration later via your blog!” All through the process, instead of taking onus, he has been simply doing status checks & motivating us that he trusts our capability. To top it all, when I was taking notes in the class, he asked me to compile everything and mail him a ready reckoner! Wow!

Whoever said diversity enriches the group should come now and take tomorrow's exam on my behalf. And as for the group member, on an optimistic note, I’m glad he atleast made an effort (though an effort full of errors). But then, in the words of all the bosses in this world, that’s what people management is all about! 

What to do in a boring lecture

Hi,

I am sitting in a boring lecture. I usually am a 100% attendance person and try my best to be attentive but this particular class is as torturous for the students as it is for the professor. I look at him…words flow like a rap, you can just feel the bass without making sense out of the song!

Since time is as judicious as the non renewable sources of energy, I thought why not spend this 1 hour doing something I like! Lets blog! So I began thinking what all can be done and in the process traveled from my school days to college, to office training sessions & MBA days. 

Today’s blog is dedicated to all the wonderful things you can do while stuck in a boring lecture. I call it captive creativity! Here’s a list of options - 

1. Surf net on your phone.
2. Update your friend about the latest gossips.
3. Finish off the Tiffin (did that so much in my 12^th standard physics lectures)
4. Play game on the phone (mute mode!)
5. Plan for the day ahead
6. Sit on the back bench and complete assignment of any other subject (pretending you are religiously taking notes)
7. Catch up on sleep
8. Plan for the blog (for a blogaholic like me!)
9. Watch cricket match live on your laptop
10. Draw a cartoon of the professor
11. Read newspaper (mostly applicable for MBA finance students)
12. Practice arithmetic – count no. of seconds left for the class to finish
13. Concentrate on professor (only if good looking, if guy. If lady professor, note the clothes, jewellery, makeup, hair and all that girlie stuff) and gossip about it
14. Organize eyes wide open sleeping tournaments
15. File nails
16. Practice maths - Calculate probability of good food in the mess (if a foodie like me)
17. Plan what to cook for evening and inventory situation inside refrigerator (if u r married…used to do that in my evening French classes)
18. Practice maths – count number of lectures to attend to qualify for minimum mandatory attendance requirement

This isn’t an exhaustive list. Please feel free to contribute for the benefit of anyone who in future may refer to this blog to explore options while stuck with a boring, buzzing professor.

Pic Courtesy : Google Search

Wonderful blunderzzzzzz

Mr. Husband has a penchant for ordering everything online. Be it his SLR camera, gogs (yes, without trying), camping tents, books (lots of them), music system, phone, deos and what not. While on some occasions, the deals ended up total disasters (the awesome looking, awful smelling deodorant that was passed on to a cousin, or the goggles that looked suave but felt like the ones sold by gubbareywaala and are parked somewhere in the closet). The camera and books have so far been the best deals. Of course, u don’t wear them, and guys usually do fit in T-shirts (it doesn’t matter to them if it’s a bit loose here and there). But for women, it’s a different ball game, fitting being the top priority. And so no matter how tempting that lingerie looks or the throwaway price that kurta is for, except books I always refrain from shopping online.

It was Eve who inspired Adam to eat the forbidden fruit but in my case, It’s my Adam who has done so. Since the bug of fitness bit me, I had been craving for a chic pair of lowers. A week ago, Mr. Adam shortlisted this amazing looking pair for me. My mind warned me against shopping online, but the girl inside said “when your hubby gifts you something, never refuse.” Being a girl, I couldn’t ignore her and I said yes.

In the middle of a perfect Friday at work, I received a call from the seller. The person on the other side, a wise old guy inquired if I was happy with the order. I should have received the message. But I was already seeing myself running the half marathon in my new track suit. I told him I would revert without bothering to ask his name.

Dreaming of the slimmer, beautiful me flaunting my new avatar, I couldn't wait to get home. Once home, I quickly ripped through the shining packaging, the lowers looked as amazing as online, same colour, good cloth! Wow! I was so proud of me having for once, listened to my husband. But all my excitement vanished in thin air when the track pant felt tight on the thighs and the T-shirt on the chest! Uff, and I thought I had lost weight! Why on earth do people start exaggerating the moment u lose a bit (and only A bit) weight.

To be honest, more than the above reason, I was bugged at the thought of my husband saying “I told u buy a bigger size”. He said it, though the tears rolling down my cheeks immediately turned the tables as he said “u just need to reduce a bit (uff, a BIT again) to fit into this!” The girl inside me had still won!

Despite the triumph, I have learnt few very important things today –

Lalach buree balaa hai!

Listen to the mind, not the heart

Girls can be super impulsive

And finally…

Never to shop online for clothes!

The great marathon…is it worth the burnout?

Life is a big never ending marathon. Whether we are a great marathoner like Paula Jane Radcliffe Or a common man/woman, within ourselves, we are nothing short of the trophy wining marathoners. The training begins early, as sperms it is a marathon to be the 1^st one to hit the bull’s eye. And then, the ordeal begins. As kids, the run to grab that seat in the best school, the race against alarm clock, behind school bus, behind marks, against mothers the day results arrive. The almost futile chase for that 1^st crush, the best college, the best subjects, marks, that plush job, promotion, (not to miss the run away from that bad boss and that overfriendly slimy colleague), we just keep running!

Then comes a different marathon of life altogether, the running behind that man of our dreams, his mother’s expectations, his family, his mood swings, his likes and dislikes, his attention, his love, his affection, your own family’s expectations, and then comes kids and their marathon becomes yours. 

But if we sit back and think, is it worth it? All through our lives, we try to make everyone happy, caring for the smallest of things, weaving hopes of reciprocation, the “happy ever after” life, that never happens. At every milestone we push our likings behind, to make others happy, trying to make their happiness our own. Thinking, one day things will change. They never do. How can we expect happiness when we spoil the very foundation of it by suppressing our desires? Who do we sacrifice our dreams, our opinions, our preferences, our moods for? Do these relationships really care? Almost all relationships in life are thankless. Till the time you run for them, they will cheer you like cheerleaders, to do more for them. The day you choose your own path which differs from theirs, the cheering turns into a cacophony.

The question then is, when we know that almost all relations are thankless, why do we run after them? Why do we adopt their choices as ours? Man is a social animal, and as per our great Mr. Maslow, affiliation needs drive us towards this marathon. Who doesn’t want to be loved, cared for, appreciated, trusted and supported? And we run after these throughout our lives, trying to make everyone happy and expecting happiness in return. If only we take things a bit easy and realize that happiness lies within us, not in any relationship, and that expectations should be limited to exceptions, life will be much smoother and maybe the marathon might just then be a jog, one would enjoy. True, man is a social animal, but it’s the man who builds the society and not the other way round. So, man/woman comes first, not society. Happiness lies within us, as we are the only permanent thing we have…

Sounds good…and I am writing this blog coz I am pissed off with my husband’s mood swings. But the moment he will take me in his arms and weave dreams of a beautiful life together, I will jump to run after his dreams and you all will say “practice what you preach”!

Morning Ragaa

Every Indian household wakes up to the cookathon announced by whistles of pressure cookers...the usual kitchen hustle bustle...every lady battling it out to accomplish mission tiffin before the husband/children announce”time's up”(translated in Hindi as late ho gaya...kitna time lagega? Main jaa rahaa hoon...time pe kyon nahi dete? Roz late ho jaata hai)! Poor lady, aka the Maggi mother says “2 minutes, just done and in order to deliver the over promised, zooms up the procedure, adding extra virgin oil, accelerating the burners, managing to deliver before the husband zooms away. There are no trophies, always a feedback. If the task is accomplished well within time, he says “kal sey time pe dena); no matter how long he takes after that to search for that important file he kept with the newspapers. And if its a bad day, and the job is not done on time, there is lot of constructive feedback, '”rehney do, tumsey nahi hoga, main baahar khaa loonga.” The lady asks for 2 more minutes, just the student who hasn’t finished the paper after the time's up. There's a wicked look, just like the examiner who snatches away the paper. And this exams happens 6 days a week.

“Even God got a day off after he created earth!”) Sighs the lady as she waits eagerly for Sunday. She dreams of a late, lazy morning, an hour or 2 of extra sleep, and on rare occasions, a surprise breakfast treat from the husband, like he did just after marriage).

But all her dreams of joy de vivre become nightmares when, looking up from his morning paper, he smiles and says “Darling, kucch accha saa special banaa do!” Welcome to the Sunday special!

This is level 2 of the game, as it involves not just husband, but the tiny tots as well. The mummy becomes a genie and they demand the best of junk! Husband wants something different, special, exotic....actually Made to order for him! Suddenly, the relaxed Sunday morning becomes the Lok Sabha battle....which bill (dish) to be passed. Just that there's never a common consensus. Kids love burgers with french fries, husband just paid 16000 for gym membership; husband wants poha, kids find it boring; husband wants his paneer paranthas, “you just gave in tiffin on Wednesday”, kids say. And the lady of the house, just like the speaker, stares at every bill being countered and rejected. Till she's had it enuf. “french toast and chocolate milk shake” else we get Idli sambhar from the Dakshin corner. The uprising dies down almost immediately. Husband finds it a task to drive down and wait In queue in the sun. Kids find chocolate shake a saving grace than succumbing to boring Idlis. The battkle has been won! The veto power has been used and Mrs. Sharma smiles away to glory! Till she readies herself to battle it out next morning!

Morning raga, at its best!