Licking Wounds

The past few weeks have been bad. I have cribbed, crammed, complained, cried, been a pain, inflicted the same pain to the handful of people around, travelled to three different cities in the last three weekends and came back to the hellhole of office.
People have put me down, let me down and disappointed and so have I maybe. Maa, Ankita and Narmada received all of it by choice or not.

Then there were these three yesterday, after a day of utter disappointment, pain, fear, anger and lone roads, and on most of the days! Touchwood.

 I am more than sure that 427 would part ways in the following months but you three have been immense in the past 2.5 years! Millions of fights, insults, cold wars, tum to tu, discussions, midnight outbursts, criticism, judging et al later, here we stand.
Sappy posts later but they really saved the day of self wailing, from different parts of the country at the present moment. At times, all the self claimed batmanhood needs shelter, voluntary shelter. Thank you!

Now I go home to lick some wounds.
For the 6th time this year but never have been this important, the break. Balaposh, komolalebu and winter sun. Hello!

Solo Soul Cola

Airports have a strange tendency of changing you.
I have (to) spent(d) a major part of back to back weekends running through and waiting at various airports.
The aunty who told me "paise waste matt karo beta, khana book kiya Hai toh le lo" in the middle of my sleep, ah Moms!
This post however is not about airports and their consequences to our lives, it is about a solo trip and a lot of unnecessary self bragging because, who else would?

A solo trip I took on a day when someone I once trusted broke my trust completely, I had no time or luxury to cry over it except for deep sighs because I was running around one such old airport, in formals and shocking pink socks, making my way through cyclone (yes, literally), fighting my way home, finally making it after sleepless nights (a little exaggeration) and patting my back.

Independence and growing up, check.
Solo trip, check.

P.S. Did I ever mention that Bangalore somehow seemed like the safety of 'home' when I landed after the cyclone encounter? Who would have known.
Check.

To A Certain Janemann- Main Aapse Nafrat Karti Hoon!

The first and foremost criteria that I had for finding a partner had always been, “Ingriji ta jantehobe”.

The first boyfriend that I ever had, the first man that I ever loved, was in my life for his English first and then for anything else. I was floored and flattered and all over the moon. I could not stop thinking about how perfect his punctuations were or how correctly he quoted Calvin and Hobbes. It was always about English, about English song dedications and English movies. English!  

Then seasons passed, he died, I met new people, judged them all, over English first and then everything else. Till a point where I started to feel that nobody can ever fill in the void, because no one ever spoke so yellow, no one ever wrote so pink. It was during one of those phases that I met this lady named Aparajita and she told me, not to try and find home in someone who excels the language, rather, try and find home in someone who appreciates it. Yes, you can always teach them the language but if they like the moon of science more than the moon of literature, you really will have nothing much to do. That night so high, somehow changed my entire take on life and love.

So today, this video reminded me of this major life lesson.
The flaws in perfections.
The perfections in flaws.

Thank You

 

Simple

I've always asked for simple,
Simple in sober.
   A sea facing tune,
   Round trip around the moon,
   Step up anytime soon,
   Knowing, that is not over.

I've always asked for simple,
Simple in tipsy.
   Left front seat of cars,
   Unhiding the unhealed scars,
   A life with life, life of a gypsy.

I've always asked for simple,
Simple in drunk.
   Days ending by the city lights,
   Cuddles to have fights, sunk.

I've always asked for simple,
Simple when passed out.
   Just undoubted acceptance of love, out loud.

-Abhishikta

With Love: Loved Because Beautiful or Beautiful Because Lost?

I think it's the thing with love.
Just so beautiful!
Just so perfect.
In the final moments
It just starts to be/
It just starts to seem.

Like the way the city is tonight;
Clad in clouds,
Bringing whispers of wind down my terrace room.

Like the way you were that night;
Named as cloud,
Bringing showers of rain down my terrace room.

But one just seemed and
One actually is.
Final moments or not.
Just so beautiful!
Just so perfect.
That's the thing with love.

-Abhishikta

Shelter

A seven letter word.

     What we always seek.
     What we always are.
     What certain walls always were.
     What certain people always will be.
     (Or not?)

Shelter.

     My happy place.
     My sappy memories.
     My insecurities to confide.
     My corner to hide.
     (Or not?)

You.

-Abhishikta

Had I Known

Held your pinky a little tighter
Kissed you a little deeper that day
Forced, pleased, cried maybe much.
Did all that I could to make you stay
        Had I known
That was the last time
That I'd see you walk past my door,
I would remind you of the promise
Of together reaching the shore.

-Abhishikta

Pujo Rants from Bangalore

Choturthi in the ancestral looooong red house was all about waking up to Buchu’s “Oth, claab e thakur eshe gechhe” and the Shishu Robi visits.
Then came senior school when Choturthi was the last day of Half Yearly exam and Maa would take me post that, to “Bazaar Kolkata” for the mega shopping.
 Higher Secondary days till 2014, Choturthi meant the day Ria and I would get a Pujo haircut done in the evening.
College Choturthi-s were all about mass bunk, while we would still travel to the 2 hours far college, just to play 29, have Biryani at Janakalyan and pandal hop.
This year my Choturthi started with  “Ayre chute aay pujor gondho eshechhe”, 2000km away from home. Distance is just a number they say. Is it?
Pujo shobar bhalo katuk!

SOS

Remember that time in childhood when you would fall and immediately run to Mom? For no specific reason. Mom would ‘Awww’ a little, pretend to scold the ground that hurt you and you would just be happy.
Then came the time like now when no matter how many times you fall, you bleed, there is just a crowded city that keeps rushing and pushing. There is no one to scold the ones who hurt, there is nowhere you can go accept the daily failure.

There was one Ishaan Awasthi who was dyslexic and there is me with IT Dyslexia. There was one Nikumbh Sir and I had one lead. The lead who scolded me like no one before but with him around, I just knew I always have a way out, NOMATTER WHAT. Nikumbh stayed over with Ishaan but the lead I had, won’t be there from tomorrow, my IT Dyslexia stays.

So this time when I fail, there is no Mom to run to, no Nikumbh sir who will have my back.
To the toughest weeks ahead when you’re on your own. This time, both personally and professionally.

বাসলি কাকে ভালো

কেমন করে বাসলি তাকে ভালো?
একা লাগলো বলে?
বেলা সাধলো বলে?

হতেও পারে !
আবার, হয়তো না !

তবে কি গোপনে ভাবিসনা?
তবে কি লুকিয়ে কাঁদিসনা?

হতেও পারে !
আবার, হয়তো না !

নিজের সবটা দিয়ে,
আমার সবটা নিয়ে,
এমন করেই বাসলি তাকেই ভালো !

- অভিষিক্তা

Yaadon K Yeh Kaafile

Remember.
Electronic relationships
Electronic love.
Here, there,
Over and above.

Remove the tags,
Delete the chats,
Unlike all the photos of his cute cat.

Don’t smile at sudden meets,
Don’t wear the Iron Man shirt,
Don’t cry, don’t whine,
Don’t showcase your apparent hurt.

Block him or/and
Stalk him,
You can take a call.
And just because he found his n-th ‘true love’,
Your market value would never fall.

Remember?
Electronic relationships
Electronic love.
Here, there,
Over and above.

Except ?

Except
When the moon shines
And the Autumn breeze starts to flow.
Except
When the poet writes
And the escapee does not get to know.

Except.

-Abhishikta

Note to self: The credit of coming up with 'Escapee' in place of my valid (or coined?) 'Abandoner' goes to Subhayan. Someday (when I am more sure) I'll change it back to what I wanted actually and call it Poetic Freedom! :)

বীরপুরুষ, The Hero

কারো স্বপ্নের রাজকুমারী কিনা জানিনা |

তবে,

সে আমার বীরপুরুষ ||

কারো জীবনের শেষ সন্ধান কিনা জানিনা | 

তবে, 

সে আমার বীরপুরুষ ||

- Abhishikta

Land. Me. Home. Please. Pretty Please.

Lakshmi

Laskhmi and Lakshmi, were cousins in a typical South Indian family where girls look beautiful and are extremely strong. Both of them shared the name of the Hindu Goddess of wealth, because wealth is all that there is to life and happiness.


Lakshmi was married off to a famous “Reddy” man who are apparently rich people. So this rich Mr. Reddy that Lakshmi is married to, is the owner a hotshot PG Accommodation in Bangalore. He is a tall, well-built man who only wears white. Most of the days you can find Lakshmi drying this huge collection of starched white clothes and school uniform for the kids. Lakshmi was the person to go to in the PG Accommodation, for power cut, bad food, washing machine, geyser troubles, clothes theft and what not, which includes opening the main door in the middle of her sleep at 3am after a party, opening the main door in the middle of her sleep at 3am again, for a morning trek. And what does Mr. Reddy do? Mr. Reddy sits beside the main door on weekends at night and watch questionable content on this phone, at times snaps at the PG Accommodation girls when something is demanded, at times looks at their breasts for one fifth of a second and on most of the times, beats Lakshmi behind the closed door. Mr. Reddy would talk to someone over phone, would flirt for hours with few PG Accommodation girls half his age, would never ever work, would not even think twice before slapping Lakshmi in front of 10 odd eyes but he ‘allows’ her new clothes, jewelry, AC, TV, fridge and luxury.
Lakshmi, with white flower on her hair and a red bindi on forehead, was wealthy, just as the name suggested.




Lakshmi was married to a not-so-famous Raju. Raju is the cook in the PG Accommodation that Mr. Reddy owns. Raju, a lean and smiling man, does not have a house, or a room. Raju and Lakshmi lives in the space extending the PG Accommodation kitchen. Raju has a sharp supervision on the food but does not think twice before secretly passing on the sweets to the old PG Accommodation sweethearts he considers as his sister. Lakshmi hops around the PG Accommodation, finding girls to gossip with in Telugu, or playing with the children of the beloved cousin. On Wednesdays the PG girls would flood over their favorite Raju Bhaiya because it is the chicken day and what would Raju Bhaiya do? Raju Bhaiya would diligently make one side fried egg, just the way Lakshmi likes, because she does not eat Chicken. On most days, Lakshmi would sit at 4^th floor PG Accommodation balcony overlooking the city, and Raju would just stare at the twinkle of her eyes, wishing to fulfil all that, that heart desires. Raju Bhaiya would make Roti-s continuously the entire evening and Lakshmi would help, later they would go to the local market and get groceries, hand in hand, and spend the night behind the make-do cardboard door of the kitchen, laughing, chatting, living. She wears the same set of few salwar kurta pairs and a dhaga on the neck for jewelry.
Lakshmi, with white flower on her hair and a red bindi on forehead, was wealthy, just as the name suggested.

And I? I have always wondered, if they would look each other in the eye and wonder, just wonder.
Who knows?

Batman Speaks

For once;

Beyond the cave, cape and mask,

All that a tired Batman asks for

Is,

To fall back

And not worry.

To speak dirt

And not be sorry.

This time?

-Abhishikta

Where Every Stone Had A Story- Hampi

Hampi! A place where every rock, every stone, every nook-corner-turn-lane has a story to tell.
I have been wanting to visit this one place ever since Hirak had uploaded photos. It took me two years and two cancelled plans to finally be there.

Considering you are not the I-cannot-move-my-bum-without-flights type, Hampi can be visited from Bangalore by either train or road. The timings for both are quite the same. I wanted to take train and so we did (and also, it's a cheap bet). We took the Hampi express on a Friday night when Bellandur to RT Nagar was covered between 5:30-8:40 :D
So we had to say bye bye to dinner plans with A. Packed our dinner and immediately took another cab to the mighty Yeshwantpur and reached just in time for the train. Now Yeshwantpur, even though is the main station of Bangalore, the crowd is nowhere similar to Howrah ( the racist in me rises). There were strange looking men and loud aunties. N, who was taking her first train ever, that too, sleeper, looked like she would start crying any moment. The train was not late but since it was late in the night, I missed the flavour of chai-chai-chai, or maybe, Bangalore is weird like that. The train finally started to feel like the trains I have taken all my life during summer and winter vacations, early in the morning when there was wind, less people and yes, chai-chai-chai.

We reached a little later than scheduled to Hospet. Now, when you reach Hospet the autowala-s would come and ask random rates, depending on the season. If you're very tired, bargain a little and set off. If you're not tired, take the Govt bus right outside the station (rates are 14rs to Hampi and 17 to Kamlapur). Nomatter what you take, on the way to hotel, you will see the small town and the life there. If you like it, be sure that you'll love your stay. If you don't like it, be sure you will not like anything anymore about your trip.

We stayed at Hotel Mayura which is managed by Karnataka State Govt. It's probably the best that you can get here and I strongly recommend the hotel. The restaurant inside the hotel serves good food and the uncle who servers will come tell tales and listen to your order with rapt attention and serve you with a lot of love.

Now about the town trip, if you're staying at Kamlapur, auto is your best bet. The bike hiring happens only at Hampi so if you're planning to opt for it, make sure you plan accordingly (maybe stop over at Hampi, which is approx 4km from Kamlapur, and get your bike). Renting own car is a loss if you're not traveling to Hampi in zoom car because the rates are vague. We took auto for half day tour, mostly because for both half and full day tour, the number of places are exactly the same. One more suggestion here, if you are a lover of history, make sure you get a guide. Hampi will not make any sense to you if each of the bricks don't tell it's tale. However, if you are not a history fanatic and are visiting Hampi just for a new experience and generic knowledge, don't even think of getting a guide, your driver himself is enough, plus the boards which will be everywhere.

From where the queen took bath to where the king had his meetings, stone door, secret chamber, Hampi amazed me. Especially because it was the closest place to Dongargarh that I will ever see. Our day ended at the Virupaksha temple where the elephant blessing scene nomatter how gross, was quite fun. The the rains finally spoilt our sunset view but sitting there, inside the dark old temple, with incessant rains, I actually felt goosebumps. I had never felt history so closely. The town is impossibly empty in the night and don't be surprised to see a Scorpio out of nowhere every now and then on the road. I saw a million stars after a very long time that night and could not stop comparing Hampi with Dongargarh over and over again.

Next day of laze and late was mostly about the stone Chariot which is the Hampi USP. There is a battery car service from this temple gate to the temple entrance which is driven by only ladies! Inside, getting a correct shot is a difficult task for the sheer amount of people who visit the Stone Chariot. We got ours anyway! Very close to it is the Tungabhadra river. All my plans of diving into the river went down the drains when the boatman near the shore announced that due to crocodiles and snakes, they have set bombs inside the river so that the ferry service continues without much difficulty. Huh! So now, if you cannot and do not take the ferry for crossing the Tungabhadra, the next option is the new bridge is is spectacularly beeeeeautiful but, 25kms extra. After doing all this you reach the opposite side to a village like every other village, a pond which is hyped for no reason and a hanuman temple with 500steps which we could not take since we ran out of time.

The ride from here till the Tungabhadra dam is almost one and half hour, with vast green lands, hills afar, blue grey sky, golden to orange sunlight and gush of fresh winds. This ride was one of my favorite moments of this year, minus the constant news of India's score in the finals over phone.

Tungabhadra dam is nice but
 hyped, the light and sound show beside the dam is okay-ish where they tried to do something similar to Brindavan gardens.

Finally we left for Hospet. Dinner was this hotshot star restaurant dhaba which surprised me with 90rs beer! Anyway, the performance of India on the giant screen did not let most people eat much. We packed our food and started off for Hell-ore. N was not scared this time and soon it was a Monday morning at Yeshwantpur-a and the same 3hour drive back. But Hampi, you beauty :')

MagicMan

She will never have proper time for you,

And she will not hug you when she sees you next.

But she will 'like' your NEW group photos

And not like it, unlike rest.

She will not pick you where you fall

And tell you all will be well,

But she will bend down to kiss you

And play a deep musical tale.

My shimmer, my critic,

My hometeam, my supportstand.

My "to-go-to", my oldest,

My one true love, my MagicMan!

-Abhishikta

Sahore!

Remember the days of black and white and/or newly bought color TV where every Sunday the entire family would gather around the television set to watch Mahabharat? An almost similar experience of larger than life stories, sets and sounds is Bahubali 2, which will take you down on a rollercoaster ride of passionate movie watching.

Note of caution to the handful of the people who still did not find the time, opportunity and mindset to watch the movie (yes, IT does that people), if you goto watch it with a crooked smile and lifted eyebrows, trying to justify everything that happens or does not happen in the movie, you will miss the flavor of it. If you end up disliking Bahubali 2, it is the same reason why Captain America could never make sense to you, and this comes from someone who watched the first part just a week before the second was released and still loved it.

Now, about the movie, this is one of those movies where the sequel outshines the first, it is one of those movies for which you will forget the overpriced popcorn that you would have bought and not lift your eyes from the screen. A man’s hardwork, sweat and blood (literally) for 4 years together makes this movie what it is! It has got something for all the age groups. While the guys can admire the perfection that Anushka is, the girls could not stop applauding for the Gentlemen that AmarendraBahubali is in the movie. Ramya Krishna has been her strongest best and no other actor could possible do justice to Shivgami’s character but her. If you still have the image of a Ramya Krishna dancing with AmitabhBachchan in Bade Miya Chhote Miya, it is time for you to hit the theaters for Bahubali 2 for sure, and I write this with zero tinge of exaggeration.

The story is nothing that could cannot guess (except for the “Why Katappa killed Bahubali” bit). No spoiler alert! You need to watch this movie for the various social factors it touches, be it the punishing of the eve teasers or the right of a woman to take her own life decisions. It would be nice if us, who clapped when DevaSena chopped off the eve teaser’s fingers or when she rebelled against the world to keep her moral grounds intact, start implementing the same in our lives. I am sure you have read and shared one million memes over social networking sites about the perfect Gentleman that Bahubali has been portrayed to be, time to be one. Long story short, this is a movie that is going to stay in our hearts for a long long time.

Every actor has put in their best, every scene will glue you to your seat. Go watch the movie, dubbed or not and end up with this urge to convince everyone to do the same. S.S. Rajamouli, thank you for this experience. Jai Maaheshmati!

Thin Crust Pizza

'বয়স তখন ছিল পনের, তাই ছিল স্বপ্ন দেখার ব্যারাম'

If you live in a world that does not like pizza, this post may not make much sense. For me, I have grown up loving pizza, from the first fancy dinner with Maa, to the first boro howa Pujo outing with friends, to the first date... it was always Pizza.

In a world where I refused coffee dates in college, pizza had done the trick (the final repercussion is not nice, but anyway). Any variety, any size, pizza was love.
So that was that, till the time I started meeting new people, more sophisticated people. That is when thin crust pizza took over the normal ones, that is when fork and knife arrived.

I still remember my first encounter of pizza and fork, but the place was so posh that I did not dare to embarrass the people I was with. And then the loop followed. I slowly slowly started hating pizza for the effort of actually slicing it over with such difficulty. There came a time where I would order anything but pizza. Such was my aim to please and be one-of-them.

Seasons changed, life happened. Now, today, when I sit at one of the best rooftop restaurants at Bangalore and eat thin crust pizza with my hands, Narmada joins, leaving her fork aside, just because. Smita judges me not and looks away at the city lights from the top, just because. And suddenly, despite all the losses that has happened over the last two years in Bangalore, I have finally started ordering pizza. Finally started being me, posh restaurant or not, fancy company or not.

Pizza again is, love.

Forgive

To wake up to a night like this,
To wake up after a dream like that,
And wonder,
Not just for the first time.
What if the dream was true afterall
What if tonight was actually the night so small,
I Wonder,
Not Just For The First time.
For the you who currently weave with her,
For the you who made the tomorrows so blur.
To wonder,
Not just for the first time.

Forgive,
The only possibly impossible word.
-Abhishikta

This, Check

Forever!

Rains always made her happy, for no reason at all. Rains, the heart healer and dream wheeler.

.............................................................................

The doctor told Meera the reason behind her 'condition' of rough patches of skin and often bleeding on both palm and feet is Eczema. Meera had always noticed that unlike other girls, her hands were not soft, unlike others, they were not smooth. Meera had grown up with all the jokes of having 'man-hands' and how no one would ever want to hold her hands. But all this never quite bothered her till her doctor explained the complications.

Now for all those who don't know, Eczema​ is no major disease. It can be kept in control but needs certain restrictions like no playing with too much water, no hand washing of dish or clothes, no getting wet in rain, no playing string​ instruments and regular application of ointment. Meera was told that any of the restricted activities would make her skin look worse. She could not control her tears at the thought of not getting to get drenched ever!

Due to late detection of Eczema, Meera's skin had started to look diseased. The hands did not look feminine, the fingers did not look slender. Those were the fingers Arun put the ring on, beside the small local lake, during sunset. Meera warned him several times of her condition, how she would not be as desirable as the others, how once the initial phase of 'love' is over, all this would start to matter.
Arun said, 'Nothing will change. I love you, forever, and ever, and a little bit more' and the ring was at Meera's.

............................................................

2 years later, on a monsoon evening, while watching rain from hospital window, she saw an Instagram photo of Arun and Jiya, hand in hand.  She looked at hers, still empty, still ugly, still waiting for the 'forever' to start.

Good Job, Script Writers of My Life

Olivia said " Hindi cinema'r heroine naki tui" and I could not be happier at the compliment. (Because Hello excuse me, yes Sir, Bollywood runs in the blood).
So this has to have a flashback!

Remember that creepy serial in Star Plus at 10 these days that will give off the end and then run each episode in flashback? Like that. (Because Hello excuse me, yes Sir, Star Plus plays on mute daily for hours together in the room).

So the story being, today happened to be a very busy day at work since the firangs would go for their Easter vacation and hence the obvious deadline for all the handover, clarification, review and approvals. Add that to the birthday of one of my Bangalore lifelines. Attending to all of this hustle bustle, I also had a flight today, for poila boishakh because last year I had promised to the Mother that nomatter what I would be home for poila boishakh. What I meant was permanently settling there and since there apparently is a permanent dung on my face on that line, I had to atleast go. Because ekbar jo Maine commitment de di toh main khud ki bhi nai sunti. (I did warn you about Bollywood)

So that's that. Last minute cake cutting delayed by almost an hour because yes Sir, every team has atleast one person who has all the work at the last moment and delays the world, and people like me never learn (I hope my lead never reads the second part because he will have a dramatic affirming​ nod at it, but that's a story for another day). Now, time in hand before take off, 3hours and 30minutes. Somehow somehow cutting short the come-soons and I left off. People who know me knows I dislike walking fast, plus I had luggage, plus it is shit hot these days, plus heels, plus cloak room procedures, plus office gate to main gate is little more than half a kilometer. When I reached the main gate, time in hand 3hours 15minutes.

Now my usual confusion to take the cab or vayuvajra was not even an option but well well, "NO CABS", again and again and again. Finally a cab was booked which showed "15minutes away" and there came a VayuVajra so I took that after getting fried in the sun for 15minutes. Time now in hand 3hours, which initially seemed like okay-ish. Now say hello to Bangalore traffic which can suddenly happen anytime, anywhere (except for the usual spots of course) and for some alien reason, nothing seemed to move. A fellow passenger (who surely had more Bollywood in blood than me) started yelling, followed by crying, followed by loud prayers ( insert  dramatic ram ram Jai raja ram, ram ram Jai sita ram here,  and believe that today, I saw Ekta Kapoor's inspiration truly). Time now in hand, 2hours and we had not even crossed KRPuram signal. I HAD to to web check-in which I had not done because the plan as usual was to beg for some window seat to the left at the airport. 15minutes gone, still at KR Puram. Web check-in would buy me 30mins, 30minutes!!!

Here comes Pocha. It is almost like the scene where Pandit Gangadhar becomes Shaktiman. So in a world where ALL of my friends were busy and I was technologically challenged and technologically unarmed at the same time,  Pocha did my web-checkin. I finally knew why Pocha was born :P
Time now in hand 1.5hours and we left KR Puram. Roads looked clear till we reached Hebbal and wonder of wonders, Hebbal only had 5minutes traffic stop. Soon we left Hebbal and time now for the take off was exactly one hour. This is when the Shaktiman points that the boarding is in 15mins ( I wonder why suddenly the boarding time came down to 45minutes from 30) and I didn't even have printout of the boarding pass. If you've watched Boss Baby you will know, the corporate Boss would become a clingy baby without the power solution. So now Pocha'r Shaktiman-hood over and Gangadhar was back with all the stupid ideas and prolonged stress-the-world mantra. Exactly 45minutes to take off and dot when the boarding started I could see the airport but blame it on the Bollywood Kismat, traffic right there. So now I, in my my heroine-ism, took all the luggage and ran 500m long stretch till the gates. 30mins to take off and boarding started. I found a print booth outside while the line at the gate looked like about 15 people. Boarding gate would close in 10mins. Remember Ajay Devgan in Pyar Toh Hona Hi Tha? Ditto that with extensive bechara face to Kannada Aunties with  and Tamil Uncles I somehow made it first in the line to the gate. Crossed that and landed for security check where a lady had 6kids. SIX! Boarding gate closes in? 2minutes exact! Here I be the Genelia, pushed the Aunty with million kids, almost pushed my way through security check-in  to find Gate No 9 had no people. WHAT?

Now came the best actor in side role award winner in my story who said boarding is not complete. I ran  I ran. The muchhar uncle to check tickets gave me a look that said "You-kids-are-so-irresponsible". Somehow I made it to a packed flight with an annoying Mummy-child combo beside. I missed writing about panic calls from Maa but that would be a 10page write-up. The air hostess looked at my face and got me water immediately. So much for heroine-hood of mine. But I write this in my room, on my bed, beside the window from which moon can be seen while you sleep. The major inspiration to all the drama in the blood.

So now you know?
" Hindi cinema'r heroine naki tui"
Of course
:D

The Rock and The Star

To Be

The Rock!

Solid, Hard, Unbreakable,

With a mind so strong.

To Be

The Star!

Bright, Shining, Dependable,

With direction that never goes wrong.

To Be

The Rock and the Star!

And be constantly at war

With heart, mind, society, destiny

And everyone, everything else

That are.

So,

The luxury to be

The Rock and the Star!

Together or very far.

The self proclaimed/

The mass accepted/

The subtly announced

(or not)

To Be

The RockStar! 

KodaiKanal- Closure

“The Gift of the Forest”! We decided to visit this place for three  significant reasons other than the perpetual reason of Bangalore-has-such-nice-weekend-destinations.

1. New Year

2. Piyadi’s Spinster trip

3. Our last trip together (for the next 2-3 years atleast)

So that’s that, plans were made, tickets were booked quite well in advance and we were ready to hit the roads again.

We started off on the 30^th, Friday night to be precise when entire Bangalore was leaving the town. Imagine the endless and ever so popular Bangalore traffic which of course made P reach JUST IN TIME and we, after like forever, HAD to eat at a place that looked like a posh slum from outside and modern dhaba from inside. With that and last moment washroom visits, started our trip on a bus that was pink and a fight that made us all sleep very quickly!
We woke up to a late arrival possibility, on a road that looked like Shimla, at a town that looked like Darjeeling. Also, to mention N’s special nature’s call which was over in less than half a minute, to the shock of all of us and the driver uncle.

Kodaikanal is this small little town, the smallness of which will occur to you only after the local tour guides have already fooled you with the ‘discounted’ packages (be wise!). You can almost walk the entire town and still have time to chill (if there is an extended weekend). The hotel was a surprise from R to all of us and we were majorly impressed with the location, the walkable BIG garden (which we ended up not visiting, but that comes later, if at all), the games, the people, the fire place and the VESPA! Yay! The room basically was a Honeymoon suite (R ka kamaal!) but we did not mind anyway. Just when we were settling in with all this, we realized that we will have to go commando (okay, inside joke I will not share).

We left off for the ever so popular lake and let me announce it to the world that riding double cycle is NOT easy. I could not for that matter and hence, R had to wait in turns with one of us while others whooooooped. Oh and okay, the tourists could be very VERY weird and ogle at your red dress and make you very uncomfortable so do not hesitate to give them dirty looks and run the cycle over them (serves them just right). The paddle boats on the lake is utter waste of time and please make sure you try it ONLY after the sun goes down.

Kodai is a town with most amazing food joint names. Every place you see will make you want to enter and EAT! Yes we should not judge places by the names but NONE of the places will disappoint you, especially the bakeries. We had to order cake and in that excuse, we tried bakeries with all the cake varieties and I probably had the best food on the last day of the year. Now comes the part that most people should know, Kodai has very few liquor shops (there is definitely one on the line of Domino’s near the ATM but zero variety) and if you even stand (forget buying) near it, you will have random strangers passing horrendous comments like “Madam this is not a bar, only men allowed”.  You may also be lucky to find few people from abroad asking for help with currency exchange at a liquor shop and they help you buy the liquor in return. However, such comments and “help” had pissed me big time and thank God I was busy earring shopping while all of this was actually happening.  

Our evening party was as epic as it can get, I would not even dare to explain or elaborate. 

The only glitch being, we missed the bonfire, all thanks to high uncles outside and unnecessary attention to our dress. With a big discussion over room heaters, nobody remembers when that night ended and the first day of the year kicked off with BIIIIIG spread of south Indian breakfast! This followed by side scene over pine forests (where monkeys take your bhutta), shooting spots (where boys will be heroes and try to ‘rescue' you), distant villages (which is perfect like picture postcard), historical hills (which I did not get), small church (some thankfulness on the Day 1 of the year, yeah), and of course SHOPPING (no not clothes, you get all masala and tea and aloevera and pain oils and what not!) We finished all by evening and us hungry kids, finally started off for lunch at 4 sharp on one of those MANY great food joints with epic names. Our first set of orders over, we asked, in full style “repeat” (also, we were all completely FULL), at 4:45. I don’t know which one of us had the sanity to check the tickets to realize, bus is at 5! Good Lord.

Madam P announced “arre 5ta bollei ki r 5ta, khai aage” :D
Then we called them and defying all Bangali norms they said, “Bus will leave at 5:10 max”
So now, N and R rushed to collect the luggage (which was inside the car and the driver was driving it somewhere else, because we told him not to disturb us before 6) and P and I stayed back, WHY????
To collect the food we ordered man. WHAT ELSE!!!

The aunty of the café got scared for us and packed all food quickly and we rushed towards the main road to find, our superman driver bhaiya has come. Somehow we managed to reach the bus stop at 5:13 to find the bus in ignition. Like an angry Principal, the conductor scolded us and we finally started off. But the overdose of nutella pan cakes, running for the bus and millions of hair pin loops made us all (when I say all, I mean ALL) extremely nauseous. Result? Nobody could eat dinner, forget about the food we stayed back and packed. We somehow wanted that night to end. Tip to anyone who visits Kodai, NEVER book anything but sleeper bus (DON’T go is the original suggestion). The beauty that you see is definitely not worth the pain you get (even if you are a pro) or, stay a little longer. I HAD to go to work an hour after I reach Bangalore but I had not felt so sickly in a long long time. P took a long time to recover and we were worried N will faint away as usual after reaching. Somehow somehow, with a fight with the Ola wala, we ended the trip, and I end this post abruptly here, just like THAT!.

Aaj jane ki zidd na karo...

Came across this sweet ad today which instantly reminded me of Dida-Dadu, Dida to be more specific. How correctly perfect she was with those crumbled softest skin and the toothless smile! Like I was telling Maa the other day, half of my life problems would have been over if she was around. Our common bunch of optimism and my personal blessing giver. So this song from the ad reminded me, how the zidd to go is always so strong that you cannot make them stay.

Yuhi pehlu mein baithein raho...

Like that one evening in the coffee shop, where all that I can remember is, how I felt I was sitting with someone I don't know. Like that one semester day when I was waiting in college till everyone left to find that everyone actually left. Like that first Bangalore weekend when I was sure I would not be that alone.

Aaj jane ki zidd na karo...

Or maybe, if the zidd matters so much, go, just go. Except for Dida who has left me devastated still. Dear woman, wherever you are, I miss you everytime I get knocked down, which is everyday. I miss you everytime I have secret messages to send to god, which is everyday. I miss you everytime I need to be told that everything will be okay, which is everyday. And it has been forever since someone​ has actually meant and said that. My two ultimate dialogue stars of all things bright and positive, how difficult was it to stay, just stay.

Ides Of March

Half Pant!
The reason behind my sudden conclusion that the ides of March are not false after all and how?

Marriage is a well discussed topic in the household for most of us these days, especially when the ex is married/about to get married, especially when there is no ex and even then, there is no interest in shaadi, especially when the younger cousins are all set to get hitched. I fall into few of such categories and the Mommy keeps on bringing the topic, almost daily.

Easy way out? Give them your damn requirements and then, knowing me, the requirements would be such that no man would be found, the our-daughter-cannot-cook being the biggest highlight!!! :D
So one clause of mine being, the sasuma should not create a hoopla about my half pants. To this, the mother (my  Batman) who cooks worse Chicken Biryani and drives better car than the father objected. I was full in shock knowing the viewpoints of someone who has forever been the crusher of gender bias, Maa!

So I was wondering what is it about half pants that is so unacceptable? Everyone wears it, everyone!!!! Summers man! I cannot remember wearing anything but those at home all my life.  Come choitro sale and there would be new half pants!!! This topic might lead into a LOT of subtopics, of hypocrisy (mine) and what not. Anyway!

So Ides of March lesson number 1:
Half Pant = No shaadi
No half Pant = No shaadi
Who cares anymore anyway!
To life... AMEN
Also, Half Pant comrades, live long :D

First Rain of the Year

Here's to the times when nothing made me happier than counting the rains...

Saal ki pehli baarish mubaraq ho ^_^

 Also this, because it feels nice to be liked at times ^_^