Of days in Mumbai.

I've spent the last ten days in the star-studded city of Mumbai. It was a most refreshing trip, and i come back a new person.

I blew close to 20 grand on shopping - a stupidity i will pay for dearly over the next few months. I mean, who goes to Mumbai and shops for 20K? I did manage to get a lot of good stuff though (bet you're thinking, "you'd better have!"), and quite a bit of it for the family. But still.

I managed to go to some new eating places, travelled the Sea Link, drove down to Ali Baugh to have a (totally sucky) meal at the Radisson, partied at the most happening place in town, took lots of pictures, recreated the infamous Bailey's night at Hyderabad, learned a few secrets, vegetated, experienced the most amazing Thai foot massage and of course, shopped like the whole concept was going out of fashion. Pictures will follow shortly. Like, the minute i'm over the vacation lag. And the trauma of sporting a round face with plump cheeks thanks to all the eating!

Goaaaaaaaah!

There's one thing i can say for this Goa trip: if all my previous days on the coast are enough to send me to hell - maybe even deeper, if one exists - then this weekend is enough to buy me some redemption.

It was my most sober, tame, un-wild Goa trip ever. And these days, because i'm not so fond of rambling on and using my writing ability as fillers for posts (which i seem to be doing pretty often - my writing skills are gradually getting insufferable), i'm going to do a High points and Low points number.

So, here goes:

High Points:

Bumming on the beach for endless hours under a parasol: the sea breeze ruffling my hair, some nice bods to check out, a foot massage, alternating between a dip in the water and lazing on a sun bed...

Dolphin spotting: For the first time ever, we woke up at an unearthly 8:30 a.m (unearthly for Goa, that is) to look for pink snub noses in the sea. The water was pretty choppy with no guarantee of us spotting dolphins, and the rains were lashing but we still managed to see a trio.

Cape Town Cafe: Good crowd, great music, strong OH mixes. Bye bye 'Oh-i'm-so-cool-look-at-all-the-men-ogling-at-me' firang chicks gyrating obscenely on the pole counter at Mambo's! Adios men with pleading eyes trying to find women to get them in to watch the firangs!

Parasailing: All i'd like to say is, sailing over the sea is the best adrenalin rush ever. (Apart from river rafting.)

Chicken Biryani at Souza Lobo and Prawn Vindaloo at a beach shack: Even Mom's Biryani pales in comparison. And the prawns, oh the prawns. Yummm.

Low points:

- Bickering with the water sports guy over his charges. It sort of just got out of control.

- People stuffing their tongues down other people's throats, age group 18 onwards.

- A brilliant friend hiring a bike and riding a different one all through our stay, only to realise when we returned it a half hour before heading to the bus stand to catch our bus back, that the bike she rode was not the one hired out. Result: a very pissed off K and N, even more irritated because of making it to the bus by the skin of our teeth.

- Love in the air. And us? Single women. Sigh.

Dandiya che!

School girl-ish excitement was the flavour of the night, along with some Pav Bhaji, eggless cake and cuisine. The women were dressed up in mirror-work ghagras complete with tons of Lambada-style bangles, temporary tattoos, face makeup and heavy headgear. The men were mostly in kurta pyjamas, but some wore the traditional Gujrati costumers. The sticks were many-coloured and blingy.

That's how the first Dandiya night of my life began.

We dressed up in our best and went to Palace Grounds last night, reaching at 9:00 p.m-ish. Surprisingly, we were early. Dandiya sticks were on sale - 20 bucks a pair - and since we didn't carry any of our own, we excitedly went and bought us some...bamboo sticks of various colours cut to size and lined with pink colour on the edges???

Dandiya nights are apparently places where the eyes meet and the hearts connect - either in the circle of dance or via heavy saree-clad 'Ben's and 'Bai's. So when we arrived, the Gujju boy of our gang was given a once-over by a Black Saree Ben snickering something into her companion's ear. The Gujju girls - one who hadn't been to a Dandiya night in 10 years and another who felt like it had been that long since she had done it - were also weighted and rated by their dance moves, smiles and... more. Our South Indian friend decided he was better off amidst the stalls packed with Gujrati flavours than wielding sticks to give a friendly smack to his rotating partners.

I was pretty freaked out by the intricacy of the dance movements - the garbha and what-not - till i got the basics, after which i was set for the night. Two rounds of basic, then another three with a bit more flourish, and i was bathed in sweat. The movement might be slow and the beats well-paced but you can bet your a** that it exercises your body like hell. And because the circle is so enormous, we dandiya-d with the same people over and over. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the night, we'd started addressing everybody by their family-given nicknames! We wound up at 2:30 in the morning after a last ten minutes of frenzied dancing during which the drummer fancied himself to be a band member of Rammstein.

Exiting the place and fully excited at having inaugurated my Dandiya experiences, i turned to my friends and said, "So, shall we do this on Wednesday too?" to which my friends replied with withering looks. Like me, i guess they'd never dreamed of dancing to Dandiya versions of Beedi Jalai Le (Omkara), Tadap Tadap Ke (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam), Bin Tere Sanam (Umm, don't remember movie), and other very new-age disco numbers - one night of it was as much as they could handle.

Oh well, until next year then.

He said, "Love you" and meant it.

The only man in my life so far who's said those words - almost an embarassed confession (not to anything clandestine, though) just before he hung up.

I was on the phone last evening, talking to him. We hadn't had a decent one-on-one despite my meeting him several times in the past couple of weeks, thanks to some stupid clingy bitch and a big crowd. I really wish i had the time to talk to him some more, but the conversation we had was enough. He couldn't stop thanking me for the gift, cracked a couple of bad-ass 'man' puns (his justification: "You were listening to a whole lot of shit from the other boys and laughing your ass off, i say one thing and you're all chee-chee?"), laughed, said we'd keep in touch. And just as we were hanging up: "I will remember you with fondness, thanks sweetheart, take care" and just before the phone could be disconnected, "Love you".

I knew it, i always knew it. The affection was mutual, from the beginning.

When the words were uttered yesterday, though, i didn't know how to react. I just cut the phone. And i gave a bit of a head jerk - sort of like how one is awakened from a stupor when they're slapped. It's just a comparison, and not how i felt at all.

Ironic, isn't it? That when i hear the words from boyfriends and lovers, i fervently wish they're true. And when it actually comes from a person i feel a great deal of respect, affection, even a healthy amount of attraction for, i'm unable to feel anything much except that this time, the words were genuine.

Yes, i've said yes.

It's been running through my head for a couple of months now. And really, i can't put my finger on what made me change my mind, but change it they did.

I spoke to several people about it, had conversations with those leading happy lives and those leading normal ones, got completely confused and mind effed, dillydallied, freaked out, consulted, did everything i possibly could.

My biggest fear was that once i opened up my mind to it and the words were out of my mouth, there was no going back.

So over dinner on the night of the 25th, as we all watched TV, i told my parents that i had decided.

Decided to get married.

My biggest sadness is that i won't have my love story. The one i wanted to have with every man i dated for however long, of which just two came really close to being told about to my parents. My biggest sadness is that i have to let go of the excitement of walking up to my parents and telling them, "Here's the guy i want to marry."

But i guess that's not how it's supposed to be with me. So i'll live with it.

So yes, that's that. Fingers crossed, waiting to see where this decision will take me.

Struggling to speak Spanish.

In a time far, far away, i used to play Uno on Facebook. With three random people from across the world. One such game happened to have a diverse, interesting set of people, of whom one guy sent me a friend request and i accepted. That's where it ended.

Today, two years later, he pings me. And we talk. In Spanish! How cool is that? I had some difficulty understanding a few things, for which i quickly referred online or my book. It was awesome, and it felt good to be talking in a language not my own. I still have far to go, though.

Anyway, gist of the conversation was that he was impressed i could understand him so perfectly (Hah! If he only knew!), and liked chatting with me and hoped to catch me online again sometime.

And before the wheels begin turning double time in your heads, i'm doing this because i need to better my Spanish. He doesn't know this of course, because i don't know how to say 'I'm only practicing my Spanish with you' in Espanol.

Hmm... 'Yo soy practico en el Espanol contigo'? No se.

Sweeeeet.

An evening well spent. With Marvin Gaye and Nina Simone and Led Zep and Frank Sinatra and Aretha Franklin and CCR and Jefferson Airplane and Michael Buble and Roxy Music and Koop and The Mamas and The Papas and Jose Feliciano and...well, you get the drift.

And then out to Cirrus where i spot a lot of new faces and some old, long-lost ones.

Back home to K's, taking it easy. Monkey print shorts and grey anti-fit shirt. A for company. Interesting conversations. Good food.

This is what life should be all about.

That's not the way we be, Boy.

I couldn't end with a song that was good enough to tell you how i felt about the situation, but now that i've rediscovered it, here it is:

All the time that we spend together
I won't fuss
I won't fight tryin to make you mine
You know i'm not that kind

I said I'll love you 'til the 12th of never
But I won't run far ahead
Leaving you behind
You know I'm not that kind

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me
Not where I wanna be

Help me out
Tell me what you're thinkin
If I rush, slow me down
You can take your time
You know I'm not that kind

If you leave, I believe life will go on
The wind will blow, water flow
And the sun will shine, yeah it will
You know I'm not that kind

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me
So live and set you free

Now what I say to you
I would say to no other
I've got my friends
I won't look for another in you,
So what you gonna do?

'Cause if you swing with me
Soon you will discover
I'll give you tenderness
Unlike any other can do

And what I say is true

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me, not for me
I said not where I wanna be
Said not where I wanna be
It's not my kinda thing
It's not the way, way we wanna swing
It's not for you, it's not for me
I said my baby
I'm not that kind
I'm not that kind
No
Not that kind of girl.

The Room Re-vamp.

When i'm not working, i'm obsessing about what to do with my room. Just after we'd moved into the new house and settled down, my room was the one with the least character. For months now, i've been wondering what to do to make it more me.

Of course, this journey has been embarked upon several times over several weeks. I've managed to collect a few things here and a few things there to use up as and when the time for it comes. On the list are fabric that can be used as a bedspread, cushions in bright colours, fancy shmancy fabric to make cushion covers, chatais and etcetera. But then all that's a waste if there's nowhere to put them, no?

The initial plan was to buy a Futon, not just because the room needed more seating space (imagine four people squeezed in on a rickety old wrought-iron single bed) but also because i loved the idea of owning one. Then when i finally went shopping, i settled for foldable mattresses from Kurlon.

Today, the time finally came for me to pull out all those things i had stashed up and do something with them. So i did.

Clockwise from left: Chatais from Home Stop, Rs.315 and Rs. 350 respectively; Foldable mattresses from Kurlon with a one-year warranty, two 4X6 and one 3X6, Rs. 3600 in all; bedspread fabric from Platform, Chennai for Rs. 250; Jute shatranji from Rajasthan Handicrafts Exhibition, Rs. 1000; Cushions in silk covers from Yercaud and Home Stop, Rs. 1000 for all.

Here's what it finally turned into...

I used the width difference in the mattresses to advantage and created a sort of step. Works fabulously to rest feet. And gives ideas on playing with two different bedspreads to try as a combination. Now, i have to stock up on the bedspreads because i really like what the contrast looks like.

Coming soon: A custom-made bookshelf to mount on my shoe cabinet. And a little spot for all the herbs i'm planning to grow!

'Supdates.

Yes yes, it's been a while. It's the laziness that one feels after a long bout of hard work and non-stop busy-ness. So anyway, here are updates:

1. Salsa Congress was awesome. Got to see some amazing performances, gave an amazing performance that got a standing ovation from not just the crowd but also the international dance instructors at the Congress. Woo hoo!

2. Learnt the basics of Bachata, Colombian Salsa, Reggae and some fancy footwork. Didn't have time for any other workshop. And the after-parties? Oh my God. There's no place i've seen that's so full of life and vigour as the after-parties. People dancing in a ground the size of half a football field!

3. Nivel Uno de Espanol. Complete. I passed. Distinction. Nivel Dos will start in September, but i want to keep the months from here on for travel.

4. On the cards: Mumbai, Pune, Baroda, Goa, Rajasthan.

5. I got back from Hyderabad on Wednesday morning. This was the first time i was visiting the city during Ramadan, and boy does the place know how to celebrate. I pigged out on Haleem and Sheermal Nahari at Charminar, and ate a paan (Kimaon) which i swear never to eat again because it got me high enough to throw up. Twice.

I also partied, chilled, spent time with family, and got myself some soul comfort. Very different, very memorable trip.

6. Work's going good. Pretty busy, actually.

7. I'm considering marriage. Seriously.

8. I spoke to a friend whose husband gifted her the world map and said, "Any place you put your finger on, we'll go for a holiday there." That's going to be one of my qualifying criteria to get hitched: when i meet the guy, i will put a world map in front of him and see what he does.

9. I desperately, desperately want a house of my own. And i'm contemplating telling my parents i want to move out.

10. Weight loss. Yay!

11. Flirtations, here and there.

12. It strikes me in the middle of the day that i will be 28 in another four months. 28!

13. I feel lumps in places they have no business being present. Need to get tested.

14. Sleep is my priority these days.

15. I held a baby in my arms after over three years. It didn't feel strange. Does that mean i'm ready? Gah,whatever.

16. My weekends are free again, and i suddenly find myself with more time on my hands than i know what to do with.

You succumb, and then you fall for it.

Back in college, Life Of Pi had strong psychological associations for me: pretentious, arty farty, intellectualised to the extent of being disgusting, blah blah blah. Don't ask me why, i just did.

Recently, i happened to chance upon it at a friend's place in a moment of boredom. Here, i have to pause to tell you that when i'm in the kind of bored mood that requires reading to make it go away, i will read anything - even The Times of India. So, of course, i decided to quell my boredom, and my faint curiosity on what could possibly be so enthralling about the book.

The first few pages amused me. A few paragraphs fascinated me. And some sentences stirred in me a deep understanding of human behaviour.

I was hooked.

I bought myself a copy, and finished reading it just sometime back. I can't say that i love it, only that there's something it does to you - spiritually, physically, psychologically. And with the last line of the last page of that story coming to an end, i decided that i would begin a new one by researching Pi Patel, carnivorous islands, Oika Shipping Company. What i found left me devastated: every single bit of that book is a fig-ment of Yann Martel's imagination. It didn't. Really. Happen.

Now, i just feel cheated. More cheated and betrayed than any other book has made me feel.

One performance down, the bigger one to go.

The student performance was last night. We grooved to a full house with a mixed crowd. Whistles, ego boosters, loud applause, catcalls - everything happened.

I made a couple of mistakes but then just went with the flow and had a blast. Lots of first times - first time performance in front of 300 people, first time showing my midriff to a whole bunch of strangers and a couple more that i prefer to keep private. It felt awfully awkward and weird - the rare conservative streak in me showed itself - but i like dancing more than that, so i got comfortable soon enough. Besides, it's a once in a lifetime (or twice, if one counts the coming Salsa Congress) thing, so it should be okay.

I had the troupe director's husband walk up to me and say, "My god, you were so good, and you looked so pretty! I couldn't take my eyes off you!" And apparently a lot of people told the director that they enjoyed watching me perform.

Happiness has happened. Two months of strenuous training for three and a half minutes of near-perfect bellydancing. I just have to make sure i'm even better at the Salsa Congress.

What are the chances of...

...spotting lots of good-looking men in Bangalore? At the same time? And the same place????????

...walking up to Random Guy You Think Is Cute and tell him, "I'm sorry about interrupting, but i think you're cute"?

...wearing a really short dress and getting away without anybody recognising who you are?

None, unless you were me and happened to be at UB City tonight, sipping cocktails at City Bar.

By the way, i cannot for the life of me understand what the big hullabaloo about that place is. It sucks. (Cue severe retching and Bulimic noises).

Avatar - the new Fern Gully movie?

I finally watched Avatar last night. What a visual treat it is - the colours, the animation, the conceptualisation of all the living, breathing creatures and plants. I must say, when James Cameron makes a movie, he makes it worth one's while. But for the most part, i couldn't help wondering if he'd borrowed ideas from Fern Gully-The Last Rainforest.

Here's why.

In Avatar, Jake's a human who gets his own Avatar and becomes one with the N'avi. His purpose is to win their trust and get them to leave their land, but he falls in love with the people and decides to change sides while his superiors think he's betrayed humanity.

In Fern Gully, Zak-one of the workers out to destroy the Fern Gully rainforest, gets shrunk into a thumb-sized creature by the daughter of the fairy people's king. Of course, he 'learns their ways', falls in love and finally turns against the rest of his team to help save the forest.

In Avatar, Pandora is as much its people as the people are Pandora. The bond between nature and humanity is strong, solid and magical. Same with the fairy people of Fern Gully.

In Avatar, they have the HomeTree and the Tree of Souls - their most sacred space. In Fern Gully, they have their home tree and a sacred tree that's the lifeblood of the forest, the source of all creation in the forest.

Avatar has it Eywa, and Fern Gully has its Magi.

And there's so much more that's similar. The seeds of Eywa, paths lighting up when they walk on it, the love triangle...

And, apparently, i'm not the only one who thinks this way. There's plenty of videos on Youtube that has mash-ups of the movies and stuff.

I'm not complaining, though. I love Fern Gully, and i really liked Avatar for its scale and elaborateness. So what if Cameron took off from the 1992 award-winning movie? I think he added a lot more life to it.

2010 - The Year of Estrangements.

Two of my close friends got married. And they didn't invite me.

Another got engaged. I read about it on Facebook.

A friend i've known for a while passed a judgement of a sort on my attitude towards an ex simply because she drew conclusions of her own out of my interaction with him, and now she's moving away from me too.

Must mean that something's terribly wrong with me. No?

Wowee.

The line is thin between a selfish act

And the things you do to keep yourself intact.

- Jon Brion

And so i begin my training.

Salsa Congress is happening. Yes, yes, it's happening in Bangalore and that's not the bigger news.

Salsa Congress is happening, and i'm going to be a part of it!

How the convincing of the parents and all that happened, don't ask. But i will be performing there, and attending workshops, and dancing to the tunes of the world's best, and partying and ohmygodi'msoexcited!

A month and a half from now, i will take the stage with eight beautiful ladies and shimmy to the tunes of Salaam Salaam. And i will be slimmer, sexier, and way more everything-er. (So Shakira, you're getting serious competition honey.)

I'm just keeping my fingers crossed so nothing goes wrong. You know how these things are, right. Just when you want something to happen really really badly, life gives you a googly and makes them really really bad.

Boy? Oh Boy.

It's been seven months since the breakup. And i'm still not able to get him out of my head. This, despite the fact that there have been alternatives available. Truth is, i think my feelings for boy run deeper than i thought they did, so much so that i'm not interested in the alternatives.

Since his last mail mentioned that he wasn't taking my calls or responding to my messages because it made moving on easier for both, i was worried about what he might make of me wanting to get in touch again. After months of stressing over it, i decided to shut out all the voices in my head and mail him. So i did, a week back.

I poured my heart out, i can tell you that. Told him exactly how i felt, and that i wanted to see where the relationship would go.

Post the mail, i felt an immense sense of relief. And then started a different kind of worry - what would his reply be?

Two days later, he sent me a message - that he read my mail, and would write to me soon. He was putting in long hours at work every day, and was sorry about taking so much time.

So, i'm still waiting for the verdict. Will it be, won't it be. I don't know, can't say.

But i am SO keeping my fingers crossed.

Manipulating life for a reason.

Sometimes, i think about the first time i indulged with OH family and i always, always get confused about whether it was 2004 or 2005. (When i checked with ex, he said it was 2006.) Anyhow, it's been a handful of years now.

I knew i wanted to taste all of it once, to know what it felt like; to know what it was that got people so hooked on it; and to know what league of high it belonged to. Today i can, with mixed feelings of pride and guilt, say that i have tasted most of all there is. And i know what i like/love/dislike.

It's the same policy i follow with almost everything else: that i have to try everything once to know what it's like. It's what has led me to explore cuisines, sea food, meat, places, indulge in adventures, travel to different places under different, unique circumstances; and to just live it up. Needless to say, i love every minute of it.

But it wasn't always like this. While i was open to some things earlier, i wasn't okay with most. That openness came when i decided that i wanted to be the one to know what the younger generations of my family were up to when they tried doing the things or telling the lies that i have done/told, be it my cousins or my kids (someday).

And so, last evening i took two of my cousins to UB City to show them the glamourous side of Bangalore life. The Sunday Crowd hasn't spared that place either - from being nice and hep, it's gone to being a slightly uppity version of Cubbon Park. Junta from all over comes in, takes pictures of the ceiling, walks into Louis Vuitton, gawks at the price tags and takes some more pictures, gets wet in the water from the fountain in half naked states. In short, UB City has turned quite Ugh-ly.

I took the cousins to Shiro to show the Buddha head. They were amazed. The waiter hands us the drinks menu, and my 16-year old cousin turns to me to ask "Is there anything in here for us to drink?" I smile and order for mocktails. Pineapple for both of them, and mine i leave to the waiter to concoct. Theirs arrived in Martini glasses. Immediately, i took a sip from my cousin's, called the waiter and asked him if he was sure they were mocktails. Yes, he said. They weren't cocktails. Weird, i thought i tasted something more in hers. Or maybe it was just the cinnamon. "Is it safe for us to drink?", asked the 16-year old again.

The younger one who's 14 years old looked on fascinatedly at the young boys at the other table sipping on Tuborg. Curious, she was. Even about the bar counter in the outdoor section. When she asked me, i told her that that was the place where 'other' beverages were served. She didn't understand, but she didn't push me for an answer either. The older one then turned to me, and said, "This is the first time we've come to a place with a live bar counter". Those were her exact words - live bar counter.

They asked me if i had eaten there, and what i had eaten. Have you eaten shark? Whale? Octopus? Seal? No, but i have eaten mussels and crab and squid, but not here, i replied. With each name that i rattled off, i found them choking on both, laughter and a bit of the mocktail they had sipped.

And so the conversation went on, alternating between grilling me about things i do/eat/learn and enquiring about what people at the other tables were doing. It was a totally new experience for them, and i'm glad i took them there.

On the way back, i was thinking about how my Aunt would react to their evening. I was fully prepared for an earful from her for taking them to 'those kind of places', but i also realised that all these years of my trying out things has been for this precise reason: so i can be fully equipped to understand, protect and guide them when their experiences/experiments go awry in the future. Better i, than a bunch of teenagers, who initiate them into things they themselves have no knowledge of.

I ended the evening with a satisfied smile - seems like all those years of black sheepness and debauchery are finally paying off.

A year of physical injuries, and then some.

So, i've been on an injury spree these last couple of months.

First, i fell on my tush real hard while running across a highly polished marble floor. This was in March.

In April, i burned my hair on Good Friday. Followed by a cigarette burn on my wrist at Athena on Saturday. And another almost two weeks later at Cirrus, on the same spot as the previous burn.

Yesterday, i woke up with a toe sprain. Weird, right? It's true, though. I don't know how it happened but my toe was nice and swollen and stiff as a dead cat. Using that as a reason to work from home sounds lame, but only a fellow toe sprain sufferer can sympathise and agree on how painful it can be.

And then, when i was sitting in the conference room at work this morning, i banged my knee real hard against some metallic object hidden under the table. I can feel and hear the squeaks everytime i rest my hand on my knee cap.

I don't know what message you're giving me, God. But please, can you find a less painful way of doing it?

'Supdates.

1. Hyderabad came down to Bangalore and together, we had a blast.

2. Weekend of Athena, i went mad over Pitbull. I stamped my feet, rapid-jogged on the spot in sheer excitement and screamed my lungs out like a teenage groupie when the DJ played Calle Ocho.

3. I start Spanish classes this Saturday. Verrry excited.

4. I rode to office on the Activa. Twice. Once, even went to Indiranagar 100 Feet Road and back in peak traffic. With the laptop in the front, at my feet. Not comfortable, but i did it without incident. Yippee!

5. Can't say the same for my car. Another accident today. Poor Red, he's gone through way too much. He deserves a break, and some pampering.

6. I burned my hair over the flame of the stove while trying to light a nicotine stick for a friend. Now i have an ugly fringe close to my forehead. No, i won't wear a wig.

7. I'm gymming! Yeaaaaaaay!

8. May 8th is the deadline to loose weight. Ten kilos of it. I don't think i'm even close.

9. Lots of long drives have been happening. Long drives, and good music.

10. I got closure from Boy.

11. We moved houses. Bigger, brighter, roomier. And a terrace all our own. And plennnty of storage space.

12. The one time we get tickets for the IPL, a bomb has to go off in the stadium.

13. Puneet Raj Kumar reminds me of Boy. Very weird, but i can't seem to shake the association off.

14. Testing times at office. Must pull up my socks, or whatever.

Apparently, not everything that spills forth from my mouth is verbal garbage.

Lately, i've been doing a lot of talking. Not at work, but outside of it. And not the oratory, but the advisory types. And it's not dotted with Assholes, sprinkled with Maaki and Bhenki gaalis, or even doused in a generous dressing of Fucks.

I've been spewing so much gyaan and emotionally intelligent sounding stuff that sometimes i think back and am amazed at how i came up with all that junk. It's true, life can teach you a lot of things and all that, but it's got to be one heck of an experience after another to be able to dole out so much, so much, so so much to people, helping them get their lives back on track. And i can assure you, my experiences are the same as those that happen to the average person - nothing out of the usual. (Wait, maybe a fling in the late teens with a going-through-divorce guy 19 years older might just about qualify as extraordinary.)

What must be different, is what i picked up from those experiences. Because suddenly, when i talk these days, i can see ears pricking up, waiting to trap every word i utter and eagerly trasnfer it to that part of the brain responsible for cognisance. And trust you me, they're heeding my words of wisdom.
Example 1: Friend going through shit with some guy she's totally in love with but who's married and has been caught by his wife chatting steamily with said friend. Shit has hit the roof blah blah blah, and now she blames herself for everything going wrong. Long story short, the point at which this whole mess is, she's not responsible for. And i told her that. And i fed her stuff to tell him. And she did. And now, everything's fine. Except for her broken heart, but hey, that's not something her intact self-respect can't help overcome.
Example 2: Yet another marriage gone terribly wrong - no love left between the two, guy pretending that nothing's wrong, girl freaking out that her parents will withdraw their support for her decision of ending it and all that. More than two hours of convincing later, i find her to be an emotionally stronger person who will only take so much from people and show her middle finger the rest of the way.

And so the stories go. Another friend who's sort of seeing this guy and cannot for the life of her hide anything from him, tells me that he asks for my opinion (yes! as in, "So, what does Nabila think about that?") on almost all things pertaining to them.

I can't decide on whether this is a good thing or not. Somehow, typing it all out makes me sound like an old maiden who can't do any better for her life than dish out stuff for people in need. And then i think that's it not true, because i can be ruthless and brutally honest. Correction, i am ruthless and brutally honest. And most times, i guess that's what intelligent people in trouble want to hear. They want to be shaken out of their stupor of helplessness and self-pity, given a sound smack on their tushes and pointed in the right direction.

*Sigh*

Whatever. Maybe i should just come with a Statutory Warning label:

CAUTION!

SUGAR-COATED ASPIRIN

Prescription Medicine Only.

To be consumed with discretion.

(P.S: A friend actually labelled me that 11 years ago. Seems like this thing goes way back into the past.)

Making sense of Life.

Everyone around me is going through major upheavals in their respective lives. I'm just stressing out on Boy and where he is and all that, which is a speck of trouble compared to the oceans of dirt my friends and family are having to fight.

Yesterday, when one friend's problems collided into each other head-on and she couldn't take it, i saw her break down like i have never before. And it struck me then: what's the purpose of life anyway? We are all born, and then we all die. Each and every one of us, we all meet the same end. So why, if our patterns are so set, do we have to deal with so much shit? Why experience love, lust, endure longing, heartbreaks, pain, deaths, sarcasm, politics - the works? What's the purpose of it all? Nothing. Zero.

And that's what i thought till another thing dawned on me - that we are all, after we die, going to be judged on how we have lived, and how we have dealt with whatever comes our way. And that's the bloody reason why we go through so many things in our life - because it will help God judge us, catalogue us. Like being judged when we were alive wasn't enough. And i think that's just sad, because what happens once we are judged and are sent our way, to either Heaven or Hell? What then? It still makes life purposeless, doesn't it? What happens to 'man being the most complex living being' and 'the remarkable evolution of thought and form and intellect and skill'? What happens to our pointless existence?

It's all just one big game, i tell you. One big extravaganza. Shakespeare was not a floosy after all. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women mere players...

Catching up on movies.

Now that the laptop has become a part of my everyday life, i'm watching movies with a vengeance. The DVD player's fixed as well, but parents are monopolising it with their back-to-back serials and reality shows. So anyway, here's a list of the ones i've managed to see so far:

Paranormal Activity - watched it just yesterday. V put me in mortal fear of the movie by just narrating the story, and the scary bits, months ago. So i was sort of disappointed when i finally saw it and it didn't seem so terrifying. Except maybe that bit where she gets dragged out of bed.
The disappointment could've been because i watched the movie... in broad daylight. (I'm a wuss, yeah!)

Up in the air - poetic justice of sorts. I liked the movie, liked the way it was made. Although when he lands in Chicago, did most people instinctively know like i did that she would be married? (Oh, spoiler alert.)

Hurt Locker - I can understand why it won Best Movie, but seriously, do we have to overdo the 'American soldiers only fight because they have to, and deep inside are really kid-loving, death-respecting individuals' bit? And by the way, i still don't know how the movie ends. The DVD refused to play all the way.

Julie & Julia - Loved it. It's real, traverses time and stitches it together beautifully, and it's got food. What more could one ask for? Oh, and i hate, hate Meryl Streep's accent in the movie.

The Ugly Truth - I watched it a second time. And i still like it just as much.

Mirrors - Iranian. Simple. Sweet.

Ratatouille - Aww. And food again!

And that's that so far. Lined up for tomorrow are The Blind Side, Defiance (yeah, after dreaming of The Craig this morning i gotta see it quick), The Bucket List, A Serious Man and maybe My Sister's Keeper. Or 500 Days of Summer. Hmm...

No, i still haven't watched Avatar.

It's not fair.

Not fair that when i travel the roads at night with the windows down and soft music playing in the background, the street lamps casting their yellow glow over everything they touch, that i remember you. Remember us. It's not fair that i have to live with these memories day in and day out, while you... I don't even know what you're up to. Don't know if you think the same things, feel the same way when the ambience around you plays out the same parody.

It's not fair that it ended. Because there hasn't been a moment, right up to this very one, when i haven't thought of you. Today was a good day, though - i didn't let my mind stray in your direction till late in the evening.

So. Wherever you are. I miss you. And i wish for something more than just that.

My latest obsession? And i mean, my latest?

Armando Christian Perez. Aka Pitbull. The one who gave the dancing world numbers like I know you want me and Krazy. The firs time i saw him was in his video a couple of months back. I found him - how does one say it - cocky? But in a nice way. Attitude, that's what i liked about him.

But today was different. Some psycho little neuron in my brain fired up, and i found myself lusting after him so bad that i kept him on loop on youtube all day, behaving like a madwoman at my desk. He's what i want my dreamboat (Thank you, Archies) to look like.

(Please hold on while i clean up the drool all over the laptop.)

I don't know what it is that gets me so worked up about him, but dear God in Heaven, everytime i lay my eyes on him i lick my lips like a bloody cat who's just spotted a goldfish bowl with a really wide rim. I haven't had this sort of obsession since Aladdin! (That was in 7th Grade people.)

Anyway, after all these years, my softboard at work is going to have his picture soon. Because that's how much i'm in love with him right now.

'Sup-dates.

1. I've been gymming for exactly two days, and have lost exactly 300 grams. There are 35,000 grams to go.
2. A bar of Bournville Hazelnut sat on my desk all morning. To celebrate its sad demise a couple of hours back, i will put in 15 minutes extra on the treadmill.
3. Swimming classes in March at Jayamahal Palace. By then, i hopefully will have a little more confidence to wear a swimsuit.
4. I have received three postcards from Victoria, Melbourne. Two on 18th - one with a kangaroo drawn on it, and another with a couple looking into a sunset that's (ahem) heart-shaped. Sweet corny soup. One yesterday with aboriginal art and poetic verses on it. Father dear a.k.a Mister Curiosity couldn't resist asking me who they were from. Finally!
5. Life is good. For now.
6. Chequered trousers in dark brown doing the rounds on Milan catwalks. Will be mine this weekend, come hell or high water.
7. Red has successfully (and maybe a little groaningly?) completed 30,000 kilometres. All of 50 kilometres were put on his metre by me.
8. I'm still waiting for my Driver's License.
9. I still haven't applied for my passport.
10. I drank three ants today. They were afloat in my water bottle and i just decided to put them out of their misery. Hail Formic Acid!
11. We went desk-hunting in office, and marked our places with less-unconventional methods than peeing and spitting on our territory. (Even though we were quite tempted to try those means.)
12. I rediscovered Fern Gully-The Last Rain Forest last night, and realised that some memories are best left as just that: memories.
13. I don't miss advertising life all that much.
14. I think i'm ready for Hampi in March. Anybody know if the Hampi Festival's on then?
15. I louwes my Nikon D3000. Really, really louwes it. Soon, i will hold exhibition of pictures.
16. I miss boy lots.
17. Bizarre dreams are the flavour of the season.
18. Nights in Bangalore are yummy this summer.
19. I cried BUCKETS for My Name Is Khan.
20. Still haven't watched Avatar. And Kaminey. And 3 Idiots (well, at least not all of it). I did watch Ratatouille though. Oh, and Veer. And some Tamizh movie on my way to Chennai.
21. Short story plots are in place. The stories are not.
22. I've been told that i have too many friends. Oh well.
23. This is my 250th post.

Heppy Bhelantine's and all that.

Two pleasure weekends with a work week in between can be quite draining, even if the work week amounts to nothing.

The weekend of Sixth, i was on a bus to Gokarna. A destination i had planned on as part of my holidaying back in the early 2000s - mostly as a clandestine getaway with an ex - that never quite materialised. Of course, because the planning with ex always left me tense and anxious about making it safely to the place, this time when i finally did manage to go there, i was faced with an unpredicted anxiety attack. It just didn't seem right to travel there without him. Once i had figured out that it was because of all those years of agonising over to-go or not-to-go, i was fine.

And Gokarna itself helped.

I think the place beats Goa hands-down. I love it. Quiet, unhyped, un-Indian (a bliss on beaches) and very, very peaceful. The water was crystal clear, with shallows extending to at least half a kilometre so one could venture in without drowning. Think, i even managed to take my Nikon D3000 into the water! We stayed at Kudle, which i would say is the better off of the two beaches, the other being Om.

Debauchery happened over the two days, of course. Lots of food, sending (an incredile 18 in less than 24 hours!) and watermelon juice.

Last weekend, i was in Chennai. A reunion of the Three Musketeers after six and a half years. The first time since college that we were together again. It started off on a fairly sour note because i happened to land up pretty late, but then it was all okay. Sunday, we drove to Mahabs - the place where it all started. We swayed by the sea, had an average breakfast at the Radisson and then indulged in some fishy business - the fish pedicure.

Interesting experience, that. Initially, it seems like the fish are bent on tickling you to death, then sometimes it seems like they're bent on chewing off your toe, but otherwise they're okay. The session's pretty enjoyable - almost like dipping your feet in a pool of water with a thousand little electrical discharges in it that do you more good than harm.

This weekend, i hope to be at peace. NO travelling for a while. I want to be a home bird - just nestle into the comforting warmth of endless mess and TV, read a little, write a little, watch lots of movies on the laptop... Maybe i'll even put the sewing machine to good use and get started on the fabric i picked up for cushion covers in Chennai.

Yes. I is domesticated. Like the cow.

Reliving the Yeehaw days on Yahoo.

So, this account of mine has been buried for a while. When i get in the mood, though, i check it only to find tons of FB notifications and e-mails from A.

A few minutes back, while trying to locate an e-mail ID, i stumbled on a list of mails. THE mails. Some i had read a few times in the past, and some others i was rediscovering after years of their undemanding silence.

It felt good to read them. Brought back all that love and affection, perhaps a hint of the pain and frustration as well. I sat back and wondered, where has all that love gone? And i realise, it's not gone anywhere. It's there, right under my nose. Only now, it's morphed into a different being altogether with that feeling still at its core. But i recognise it still, and i'm sure he does too.

All those years back, i thought it would be difficult to go back to the beginning. It was. But now that i have managed to do it, i like it so much better there that i don't want to move away from that place of happiness. I'm at peace with me - a feeling that took a lot of working at.

So yes, these mails are buried in the abyss of yahoomail. But then, isn't that where one finds and sinks all of one's treasures, in an abyss? Isn't that what makes it so coveted and so tempting, what drives us crazy till we find it and satisfied once we possess it?

Besides, they came from The Mollusc. So to The Mollusc's residence they will go. (Smug grin.)

It's 3:30 a.m in the morning and i am wide awake.

Is this what turning 27 is supposed to be like? Cause i sure as hell seem to suddenly be carrying very heavy thoughts in my head - a load that, when added to my heaving self, is a bit much to manage round-the-clock.

I see a disturbing movie, and i think i don't ever wanna have kids just so i don't ruin their lives by not doing the right thing, giving them the 'right' upbringing. I go partying on a Saturday night and i feel like an ungainly hag with no sense of style who just wants to let loose with some average standard shakes of arm-leg tangles. I visit relatives and think, yeah, maybe i need to consider marriage. I visit friends and think, okay maybe not. I stay out of home most of the time in the fear that i'm running out of life and need to make the most of it while i can. I apply for post-grad courses because hey, i feel the need to reassure myself that i am as intelligent as i used to be. I keep pushing visits to the doctor. I try to get out of bed early every day, only to fall back because my eyes refuse to respond to the signals my brain's sending. I worry about wrinkles and growing frail and taking pills to fortify my beginning-to-creak bones.

Really, is this what it's like to be 27? Because if it is, by God, i have a raw deal on my hands and want none of it.