Reasons I Hate You

Am crazily in love with u for the past couple of days: nothing new!!!

Though I must admit I was disappointed on Valentine's Day when you took almost half an hour to point out 10 reasons why u love me. I am sure I can do much better.

I was planning to write down the typical “101 reason why I love you” kinds stuff for u. but then I thought, “hey, why not hate him once for a change on this lovey-dovey day?”

Whacko me, as usual.

Ok then. I hate these things in u:

1. You keep cracking those PJs of urs when I m like terrrriiibllyyyyy angry. You just piss me off more & bring me to wits end.

(well, I do love you for not joining me in my mood & eventually starting a fight!)

2. You are always on time in spite of knowing the fact that I’ll never be crowned “miss punctual”.

(I love to rush to the meeting spot to see you waiting for me rather than reaching there & not finding you)

3. You are sooo damned suspicious of any guy found in 10 ft diameter of an invisible circle around me. One name repeated twice in a day & I have to face a bombardment of questions. & that oh-so-typical line of urs : “I trust u, but I do not trust the other guys”. Relaaax.

(I do enjoy this attention & possessiveness; albeit just reduce it a bit)

4. You make me walk from the insides of the road. Why do you have to be the knight on the road? As if I have not handled myself well in the traffic all my life!!!!

(Well, I do admit my habit to stray in the middle of the road when lost in talk & understand your concern. Besides, it’s a relief no to worry about the oncoming traffic & the “unintentional” touches of the road Romeos.)

5. Ok now. Once n a while let me be real angry on u for a long time & let me scream & shout at you. Every time u start up this “1,2,3...” count of yours & I break up into a silly grin! RESPECT MY ANGER!!!

(Well, that is the very first reason I fell in love with you, didn’t I?)

6. Stop thinking on my behalf & jumping to conclusions. I have my tiny brain that is quite functional, whether you believe it or not. “I m sure you are thinking about this, I am sure you don’t like this”...& so on. Now, now. Don’t tire your brains so much. Allow me to voice my opinion too.

(Its actually funny the way you think about my thought process, my opinions. Gives a good insight into your perceptions about me as a person. But I repeat...relax.)

ummmm...I was all set to jot down 10 hate u pointers. But, I really can’t think ahead of this.

Do remind me of this list during our next fight.

Till then,

Hate u with all my love,

Your bachcha.

Love conquers all

It had been real long time that I gave any space for any wild random thoughts to drift in the vacuum of my brain.

Today, as I was checking my mail on home PC, I turned on my gazal collection.
Frankly, I have some typical favorites in that huge collection that I play regularly. Apart from the reason of time, not understanding Urdu well is another valid reason for not listening to the entire collection often.

Neways, I stopped mid tracks as I listened to “Chak Jigar Se…”

I have a friend who is going through some real testing times.
He has recently left his well to do family, taken up a small room on rent, is struggling with his business…all for his love.

This may be one of those regular love stories… boy striving through tough times for his girl.
But then I have seen up close and front his fate after his decision.

It takes a lot more than those rosy dreams and those soft whispers of promises to take up life upfront for your love.

He left his home with hardly any cash on himself.
He has been putting off his hunger pangs by managing on a vada pav or two. Those two shirts can be seen every alternate day.

He is striving to earn enough to pay off his rent, the bike has already been kept aside...it is all walking for almost 40 mins to the office.

Initially, everybody wondered if he could pull himself through all this.
Trust me, he has.
For the first time, I saw the power of love at work.

I was plain jealous of the girl for whom he managed to take up this test of fate.
She loves him equally and has supported him completely through this. She saves up some pennies to work up for the rent, sees to it that he has a meal whenever they meet.

Looking at them holding hands, I just know deep inside my heart that they will make it.

They just would.

God cannot even dare think otherwise.

They have won it all…they are together even on the thorny roads.

Now it is His turn to bring out the gardens for them.

The Magic of Rains!!!

I call it the Magic of Rains!!!

For the rest of 8 months, my favorite pen and the journal book are safely tucked inside the cupboard. Its not that those "momentary inspirations"(?) to sit down with a pen and a paper to jot down a few thoughts don't strike me like lightning. But somehow, I just let those urges pass by.

The day the rains start pouring down, all my practical senses vanish like poof!!!

I am just forced by some magical forces to sit down all relaxed, in my window, and stare across the pouring rains.

The vast greenery spread outside it is such a soothing sight. It relaxes me in a way nothing else can.

Its not just the pouring rains but also the "accessories" that come along. The hot, oily snacks like pakodas, bhajiyas, hot piping tea, accompanied by slow, romantic ballads make the perfect setting.

I repeat myself...it is the Magic of Rains!!!

The Pen

It has been real long time that I actually wrote anything personal, or typed anything, to be precise.

Nothing called writer’s block or whatever.

Pure laziness.

Had quite a few ideas rolling there in the grey cells.
Till now, I had all the so called “genuine” excuses up my sleeve: “not the right mood”, “the rains haven’t come in”, and the best of all…”I don’t have my favorite pen with me!”

The last one was quite a fact.

I had lent that pen a long time ago to a friend of mine for a while (an hour). He’s still returning it back to me. He claims that the pen has proved ‘lucky’ for him, and it would be "mighty cruel" of me to ask it back from him.

Filmy. Very filmy.

He is certainly not interested in gathering the fact that the pen is my favorite, the one with which I started my writing. It is something that I look around every time the writing bug hits me.

Neways, as I understood that I was not to get it back, I started my search in the market for a similar one.

Trust me, it took me two whole months to get it.

The shopkeepers showed me all types, from gel pens to the Chinese stuff.
But not what I wanted.

It was not a very special pen, so to say. But it was certainly not easily available.

Also my description “it is a grey pen with a blue stripe or a dot on it…ummm..its is not exactly blue but a greyish blue! (Smart me!). Not a gel pen, a pilot one.”
Looked like it didn’t help much to search it from a maze of pens.

My despair grew. The rains were fast approaching.
Also there were those amazing mornings, those beautiful (everyday) moments with my family, friends, etc.

And finally I got it!

I was casually browsing in a stationary shop for a notebook one evening as I waited for my friend. (Ah, I hate him so! Makes me wait, always).

It as then that I noticed MY PEN!

Trust me, I mentioned this discovery to almost all my friends over the next few days. “Hmmm, so the talking lady can be expected to be quiet for some time, as she writes?” commented a smart Alec.

Well, the pen still lies in my purse, just the way as it was bought.

As I said, pure laziness. ;)

I need to connect !!!

It happened one day:

Scene 1:
I was not sure that my prepaid cell plan was the best for me. Hence i went to cellular service provider's gallery to know what other plans they had, including billing. I had my boyfriend along with me. As I saw the monthly rental of the lowest billing scheme, I said to him: "I don't call that many people neither do many call me. The only two people I communicate with are my mom & you. I guess I should carry on with my current plan. I don't need to upgrade!"
He just shrugged his shoulders in agreement & we left the gallery.

Scene 2:
As we were en route to a restaurant for lunch, I had a real good fight with my boyfriend over something silly. We started with our lunch in huff puff silence. In frustration, he said something stupid like: "These fights are turning to be stressful & unless we act on them, they will char our relation to the extent that you might walk away...the way I know you. I would then have a very a short life, if it was without you!". The moment he said this, my eyes brimmed with tears. Forget living without him, I cannot even dare to think of such a situation! I realized my life was so very focused on him, dependent on him! It took him a hell number of his stupid PJs & sorrys to bring me back to normal, albeit with puffed eyes & red nose! :)

Scene 3:
after lunch we headed towards his office as he had to mail something urgent. As there was no electricty, we were doing some TP with his office friends in his office, waiting for the currents to flow. I was in the middle of a conversation, when i got a message from my close friend saying she had lost her brother last week. I was very shocked. i immediately called her up & told her I would be there. Everyone around started asking me questions about her brother. I could not answer them sufficiently well as I did know her family well. I was embarrassed to admit to my guy that though I treasured her as a close friend, communication from my side was truly pathetic...almost once month. I could not call her a close friend exactly but she has been special for me as we connect really well.

Scene 4:
i was on my way to my friend's house for offering my condolences & to try to understand how things had happened so suddenly. I set thinking of all the people whom I was not in communication with. There were a couple of people whom I shared some good bonds with. Earlier I used to call them up regularly every week, or almost everyday to some & get frequent calls from them too. After the 26/7 deluge, I got somehow mentally stressed & lazy & did not call anyone often. I called up my boyfriend to discuss this. I confessed that my whole life in recent months had been focused on him & my mom. This was good though not very healthy. These were people who had given me emotional support through my troublesome times & were there when I wanted them to be. i did not bother to know what was happening to others. This was precisely why I was shocked to know that one of my close friends had left her job of teaching & was home due to some tension. I had no idea as what was happening with others: what jobs were they in, their marriage plans, new shopping, any other happenings in their lives...I was absolutely clueless. I then decided: I am gonna get myself a billing plan & call these people often...no matter if only for a Hi.

Next time I want to be there when my friend needs me!!!

I need to connect...do you???

Paradise World

On Holi day's afternoon :

watched a beautiful program on national geographic about the bird of paradise. This bird is so colorful & beautiful...its like watching some human-made graphic animation! The commentator talked about the females going over the board while choosing the male for mating. Darwin had expressed anxiety over this trend in these birds. The male bird of paradise does not take any "family responsibility". all he does is copulating for eggs & then flying away. No wonder the females are choosy as they are the ones who have to bring up the little ones.

a male bird was being watched over by the NG photographer. to attract the female, the male bird cleared his dance area. He cleared it so spic and span that there was not a single little leaf lying around. He also went to the lengths of cutting away the leaves of the surrounding plants if they obstructed the light shining down on his dance area. The male bird supposedly takes care of his dance area for about 5 months or so. He had a colorful, many layered body. His feathers were beautiful & exotic to look at. His tail was like two little curved threads.

i tried searching for the exact image the way the bird was. I did not get it on net, not even on national geographic. However, I got to see many colorful variations of the same species. The male bird shown on the program was something like this, though more colorful:



It was all very fascinating to watch. For long, no female responded to the male bird's calling. After long, his luck answered & a female flew down. The male performed beautiful dance in the form of artistically spreading his wings & mane hair.

The photographer thanked the tribals for introducing him to their sacred rain forests. He also expressed a fear of commercialization as a threat to the now existing beauty of the jungles.

Later in the afternoon, i was again browsing channels idly. I happened to watch a thrilling scene again on National Geographic. There was this NG fella bungee jumping from threatening heights. an eagle was released from the plane along with him. The eagle soared downwards alongside the guy. This fella had a small pouch containing meat that the eagle managed to swoop down on at the last minute. it was a breathtaking scene to see the fine balance & speed of the eagle. The shot was then shown in multiple angels & in slow speed.

The program also showed glimpses of these speed performances in various other animals such as the snake, the cheetah, chameleon etc. the host concluded the show by rightly saying "these animals use speed for their survival!"

Only if we venture a little ahead to these nature channels, ahead of the regular soaps & Hindi movies...we get to watch a completely new world that exists on the same planet as ours but miles away.

These are the times when you know television is a boom!!!

For a good laugh

After along time, i laughed out aloud like crazy...that too, in my office!
I happened to visit Vinod Ganesh's blog.
The guy is way too good!

Even my colleagues were in splits ends!!!

Do visit the blog that's hilarious as hell & is rocking!

Smells of life...

I fill myself with the smells of...

freshly cooked rice

baby talc on my niece’s skin

“mogra” at the gajre-wali, as i walk out bone tired fro the railway station

shampoo in the hair on a lazy yet fresh Sunday morning

wet earth after the first rain

perfume as i deck up for a special evening

batata wada at the railway canteen in evenings

new stationary

My Literary Life

“I write!”

This is what I reply when questioned about my hobbies, as one of the activities of interest.

Reactions vary from raised eyebrows (very common), to mouth opened agape (very theatrical, methinks) to an occasional “Ah! Do you?” sorts. These reactions render me to go on guard for any out-of-nowhere kinds of second-category-questions (delivered in a tone that says “isn’t it obvious?”). “So, where’s your Booker / Noble?” is one of those real sarcastic ones.

Now quite habitual to these supposed jokes, I take in my stride when I coolly sign off the conversation with “Oh, I’m just one of those who prefer not to go print”.

A more humorous reaction was when a friend of mine from long past times dropped in at my place to say hi to a surprised (& happy) me. Over tea, after the whats-on-in-your-life catch up, the conversation steered over to more docile topics about daily routines. On the always-there topic of interests cultivated, I was careful to put on a careless statement like “I write occasionally” (with shrugged shoulders to support my no-big-deal about attitude).

What I witnessed was an amazing exhibition of eyeballs swinging from the writing table to me & back to the table, in a successive manner for a trillion times. I thought it all to be too funny to even laugh at, my friend resembling a Wimbledon spectator. The molars that were busy exercising his molars into sandwiches, suddenly stopped.

“Really?” is all that he managed to ask.

And just that was enough to flare me up. “Do you expect some Arundhati Roy or V. Naipaul stuff to pop out from the book shelf? For Christ’s’ sake, I just do some casual writing, nothing that ever find its way to a publication house, I assure you. And for that matter, its such a personal hobby that I shouldn’t be taking up any of this ‘eyes-popped-out’ kind of crap”.

Realizing he had hit a raw nerve, he apologized profusely and skillfully steered the now-cooled-me to other not-so-personal issues of life.

Later that day, I bemused while recollecting the incident. Why is it that writing is not to be expected from someone you know but rather some well-known name, or an established persona, who can never bump against you in everyday life? Do I smell insecurity here or is it plain surprise to find out that someone we know so well is into a field so reserved for the elite few? More often, it is a critic attitude towards a friends work, as if to check whether the written material is all ready or rather worth the literary world. Maybe it is astonishing enough to realize that your friend can also “think”.

Whatever it is, the reactions are quite incredulous kinds. I now deter to even mention my interest or to take out my note book or pen at places, to jot down a few lines. I silently jot down stuff & key it up on my PC on my weekends.

To think of it, who knows if one fine day, friends might see a Booker on the table… ;-)

Lazy me :(

“Your last post dates November 12, 2005. How about changing that to January 21, 2006?”: comment on my blogspot.

“You mean, you have not even used the diary I gifted you for writing? It is meant for 2006 & not 2007!”: my friend.

"You have THE place to write. Your home is so cozy, the place around so scenic & quiet. It makes me write a poem or an article every time I come here”: my friend, as she hands over her freshly written beautiful poem.

“You lost the pen I gifted you for writing in the floods & you remember it NOW? You have not thought of writing for the past 6 months?” : my guy.

OK. OK. OK. I get the point.
I have seriously not jotted down anything for a long time. There certainly have been a couple of times when I wanted to come out of my blues by writing about issues.
Seriously, writing has been like a daily goal for me to achieve since the past couple of months.

Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

Not entirely my mistake, though. The moment I plan to hit the keyboard at home, my eyes catch the “khel” folder on my home PC & minutes later I am racing like crazy.
A notepad & a pan...& its OC on Zee Café that I have to catch up with. Not my fault.
Even star movies plays some good stuff.

Ooof, the temptations.

Its like, I am home alone, all set in a mood to write & then I suddenly think of things to talk with my boyfriend. I pick up the phone & go yapping for the next one hour or so. By then, the notepad & the pen are in other corner of the room.

I recently call up my boyfriend to say “You know what, I earlier wrote to clear out my thoughts & think better out of my problems. Now, I talk them out to you. So essentially, my writing has been reduced & my talking has increased. Thanks & no thanks!!!”

I am home today due to bad health, trying to catch up on some sleep. I then notice the pen & pad. Good going, Charu ...

Weekend

The reason that I am sitting in front of this dumb dabba is because I went into a cleaning spree since morning, the computer was all neat and tidy, all the “important” papers lying around were duly sorted…. and it just looked too inviting.

Okay, still a few days for the rains to come.

Till then I’m sure I’ll be all set with my pen and writing pad.

Till then, I muse around with the description of my amazing days…everyday.

Like today, when I woke a bit late, welcomed a close friend to my home, went out with her in the garden to clean up the dried grass & cut down the extra growth. We worked in the garden like crazy till it was stomach-rumbling time. Then had a relaxing bath, followed by amazing food cooked by ma, worked up on the comp for some office work while watching Richard Gere’s “First Knight” (I LOOOOVE HIM), made tea for everybody by evening, watered the plants in the garden, saw my friend off till the bus stop, got some parlor work done on myself, played with the kids on my way back home, was welcomed by more guests at my place, had some great time with them, had a calm evening walk with mom in the campus, came home a bit tired, am typing nonsense stuff on the machine, plan to have a light dinner and sleep off.

There is hardly anything exciting about this routine…but special are those moments when I water those plants, when I chase around those mischievous kids, when I sleep with my head in my mom’s lap, when my friend brings a real large Cadbury for me, when I watch those beautiful cloud patterns along with my friend, when the evening walk is so calming…worth the week’s hectic schedule!!!

It is just my way of looking at things, I guess.

Who cares!!!

Beauty Redefined

Saw Shallow Hal the other night. Lost sleep for a long time after that -- an amazing concept for sure. Inadvertently started wondering about myself, as how would I look if one were to see just the inner beauty in me. Also, what about the people around me? Are they as good from within as they claim? Some food for thought that.

There had been plenty of instances when I felt like shouting over the rooftops to tell the world that my not-so-good-looking friends were real treasures, gems at heart.

A close friend of mine is such a darling at heart. She's a true studious, sincere, simple and sincere person. She's well educated and got a good job as a professor at a college. We make it a point to meet up once in month and spend the evening together. I run to our meeting place from my meetings, dressed up smartly in my formals, face made-up n all. She on the other hand hardly gives a thought to looking good. Not as speckle of make-up, dressed plain yet smart... We look an odd pair when we move together. But it is then that I realize that below all these upward appearances, we both understand each other well as friends and connect as nobody else can. She has been around as a friend for long, in times when I needed her most, holding my hand, listening to me crib and complain, soothing my problems out (she believes I don't have any!!!). It is these qualities in her that make her a special friend, not her appearances.

There were a few girls in my college class who were breathtakingly beautiful. I always wondered as how they could look so stunning every single moment of their life. One day, I actually spoke it out to one of the beauties. "Isn't it boring to be good-looking all the time? I mean, people take it for granted that you look good always. Compliments must be a boring thing!" As she looked at me with those raised eyebrows look, I explained, "Look, it is one of those special times when we dress up real good, festivals, b'days, etc. Family and friends come over to tell you that you look awesome. These times and the compliments and the words are treasured. With your kind of looks, it must not amount to a big deal!!!” I was expecting her to get all flared up. Instead she sighed and said, "It does occur to sometimes but then can't really help it. Can I? I make friends easily; they come across well due to my looks, not by what I am as a person..."

That was some insight!!!