Sometimes I wonder why I do what I do. It just makes my life comparatively more convoluted than that of those around me.
My friends are busy planning a lunch for tomorrow while I am busy planning my ten day whirlwind visit home, to UAE. Their hands are busy flipping through menu cards whereas I am busy checking my ticket and passport.
They are asleep in their comfortable beds anticipating the start of the sudden holidays whereas I am turning and tossing around in bed mentally reviewing to- pack and to -do lists.
The next day as I glare cheekily at the immigration officer who has decided to take his own sweet time to stamp my passport I wonder if he is actually memorizing my details or something.
That done, waiting in the lounge in front of the boarding gate for two hours does nothing to soothe my back which is on the verge of going on strike against the grave injustice I am meting out to it. Can't blame my spine and seats of learning… I subjected them to the torture of staying still and ramrod straight for four fifty minute lectures earlier in the morning. Poor them…. And then my arms that last exercised when I went swimming four months ago, cry out in agony when I haul my suitcase around. As I make my way to the plane, 'goodbye and happy holidays' SMSes that flood my cell phone confirm my hunch about my friends being busy watching movies back to back or doing something a million times better than ending up with co-passengers who snore.
An hour later, when the lady sitting next to me manages to stop snoring and, I manage to pay the courtesy visit to my long lost friend sleep the steward decides on an impulse to stomp his way from one end of the aisle to the other. Nice… he scared my reticent and shy friend away. It is 10 in the night and the plane is an hour late. Nora Roberts does nothing to ease the cramps in my legs which are the result of sitting in an auto rickshaw with one leg over a suitcase for an hour and 15 minutes to reach the airport.
My stomach is grunting and emitting low rumbles that reminds me of a growling dog with its hackles raised. I think the last time some food soothed my innards was at 2:30 in the afternoon. How I wish the plane would take off and the crew would serve me some chow. It is now exactly 12 in the night and the air traffic control finally decides to be gracious and permits us to fly high.
Finally, after 4 torturous hours the plane decides to land itself at the Sharjah Airport thudding all through the runway and then some more. No jolt or thud ever made me so happy. If my back had hands the clapping and cheering would resemble the crowd at a FIFA final because I could finally stand straight, after more or less 8 and a half hours of remaining seated.
As I wait at the luggage carousel, mentally counting the appearance of a particular suitcase for the 10th time in a row I wonder why am I doing this, when I can manage to be snug in my lumpy bed in Bombay and wake up late the next day looking forward to an outing with my friends. I finally spot my bag after a wait of almost 20 minutes and stop short of whooping in glee. I just realized that standing doesn’t agree with me either. I push the trolley with my bags outside the airport almost breaking into a sprint, all I can dream of is going home ASAP and crashing into my cozy bed. HELLO UAE. Imagination becomes reality.
Next day I wake up groggy and ravaged with jet lag. Once again I dwell on the sensibility of my decision to not study in the UAE where my family is and moving back to India to pursue my higher education. Compared to this hassle of travelling every 6 months and the whole rigmarole of packing and having to keep adjusting to my surroundings and two totally different lifestyles the former would have been a better choice. Add to that the miserable feeling of not exactly belonging to any of the two places in particular, I feel like I am stuck in a limbo. As I wallow in self-pity and depressing thoughts of this variety early in the morning, the phone rings. I pick it up and hear my little cousin's chirpy voice.
“When did you reach?” She squeals, "Early this morning honey" I reply
“I am dying to meet you! I wanted to be there to receive you at the airport but I had tuitions this morning. I am so glad you're here, I missed you!!!" says she.
At that particular moment, it became as clear as crystal to me why exactly I have been doing this whole travel gig since the last two years despite the aches and pains that come with it. And especially after spending the last 2 hours writing about how obnoxious travelling back and forth is.
I have, and I would travel to any remote corner of the world a thousand times over just to hear a loved one tell me that.
Yours recuperating from jet lag
Falak
Monday, October 12, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Sisterhood of strawberries and chocolate
I resemble a sleep deprived zombie. Okay! That doesn’t make sense because zombies are dead so they don’t need to sleep… Simply show’s how much sleep deficiency I suffer from….I can’t expect anything better from any other human being woken up at 4:30 in the morning to be told about having a new baby cousin.
Girl or boy? I mumbled, my eyes closed, still heavy with sleep.`
“Baby girl” came the reply. “ Hooray!” I muttered with enthusiasm that was supposed to resemble India winning the cricket world cup but it sounded like I was snorting in my sleep…..I sank back into the world of slumber.
That night I met my new baby cousin for the first time and fell in love with her…. I am forever falling in love with babies… nothing new or novel about the same. And when they all cross the age of 3 they turn out to be brats and break my heart….. I am like women in an abusive relationship. I still can’t let go of my sweethearts….
She was tiny, wrapped tight with a cute bonnet on her tiny little head, not serving its purpose at all since I could see her thatch of dark black hair peep out as if playing peek a boo. Eyes scrunched shut, unaware of the racket spewing around her she lay motionless and serene looking like an award winning photograph.
I was lost in thought wondering in bewilderment about her smallness. I actually guffawed loudly when an uncle of mine held her with as much trepidation and care as Horton{ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horton_Hears_a_Who!%7Dwhen he held the speck . Him a 6 foot 80 something kilogram giant and her, a 3 kilogram mite. I am sure I chuckled loudly because I was rewarded with weird looks from my relatives who were until then busy clucking around the baby like nutty mother hens….. I felt like a dartboard…
She was so small. I wish small had a synonym that clubbed petite and cute and cuddly in it… I need such an adjective to justly describe her. I was petrified to hold her when I was asked if I’d like to by my aunt. And I didn’t in fact for the fear of breaking her or dropping her prevailed over my maternal instincts.
But imagining the so called tiny baby in the now deflated stomach of my aunt made my petite doll remind me of an Alsatian in a terrier’s kennel.
I am the older sister to 7 children including this fledgling, 6 of who are cousins. I’ve been privileged enough to see them all as soon as they were born, but I’ve never ceased to be amazed by how an actual live person can be so small, so petite, so perfect, so tiny, so dark……
Dark?????? My blissful line of thought was broken by the superfluous ravings of my family around me.
“Yes, she’s dark!” piped in a grandaunt
“Yeah, like her dad” chipped in another
“Some kids gain colour after a few days.. yeah she’ll turn out pretty and fair as she grows up.”
“ Oh! Yes! They grow to resemble the other parent, so maybe her mom’s traits will surface in time to come.” Grunted a granduncle with the air of a genetics expert.
The new mother looked apologetically at these people as if the baby and she had committed some crime. They made my doll sound like a blurred photograph.
My mind reeled into flashback
13 years back
“Mommy, why am I not as fair as you?” Does that mean I am not pretty? Does that mean I’m not yours?”
That was a five year old child’s predicament to a mother who didn’t know how to let her baby know that she was beautiful and meant the world.
5 years from then
“What is blushing? I read it in this book”
“That is when some one feels shy and the blood rushes to their cheeks making it go pink or red”
“Do I blush?”
“ No! honey with your skin tone it’s not possible or maybe its not visible. You can observe your brother if you want to. He is fair.”
2 years from then
“You, young woman are so different from everyone in the family… Your head’s always buried in a book or you’re in your own world… Apt to be called the black sheep, you are! {laughing in the background}
Back to the present 2009
Dear baby,
You don’t even have a name yet but they have already tagged you with a label.
I can’t say this out loud to you because, well you can’t understand{ the same stands for the rubbish these people are blathering and thank god for that}. But I hope that these thoughts flow from my heart to yours.
You’re not fair like mommy because you look like daddy and he loves you a lot. He’s darn good looking too, that’s why mom fell for him.
You’re every bit your mom’s. Basic genetics states you receive one of your parents’ skin tones. Daddy rules in that department.
You’re the prettiest thing I’ve set my eyes on in the last 18 years.
You’re gorgeous as hell, heaven too. Boys will queue for you…. It’s only obvious since Naomi Campbell, Bipasha Basu{a famous dusky indian supermodel and actress} Rihanna and Beyonce are so much in demand.
Of course you blush! Just like any other human. And when you do you are like creamy coffee with saffron sprinkled over it.
Anyone wanting to apply a fairness cream on you later in life can go take a hike. We are not interested in contributing to the ever increasing sales of fairness cosmetics industry in the nation of India.
Majority of the CEO’S, Oscar winning actors, statesmen, and writers have been the odd ones out in their families…. The black sheep… hahahahaha
Americans and Europeans run the risk of sunburns to achieve your skin tone. Young girls who resemble milk chocolate bronze themselves because bronze is sexy! You’re less prone to sunburns and skin cancer. Last time I read the traditional religious stories{and I believe I am well versed in them] lord Krishna was dark and he had around 16,000 wives and still waiting I think. Draupadi
{http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draupadi }
was queen to five handsome kings!!!! She was dusky too…….
You’re siblings if and when they come might be fair…… So what?????? They might be pretty and so are you… They are the light, fresh, sunny, golden mornings people find adorable. You’re the moist, misty, mysterious, glorious star strewn night that people find gorgeous and alluring. I never heard people say only mornings are beautiful and nights are not. You might not be peaches and cream…. But you are strawberries and chocolate………
We Indians bicker about racism in the west. Maybe we should check out the situation in and around our vicinity first.
Lastly, I love you. We are sisters in more ways than you’ll ever know.
Yours sweet as dark chocolate
Falak
Girl or boy? I mumbled, my eyes closed, still heavy with sleep.`
“Baby girl” came the reply. “ Hooray!” I muttered with enthusiasm that was supposed to resemble India winning the cricket world cup but it sounded like I was snorting in my sleep…..I sank back into the world of slumber.
That night I met my new baby cousin for the first time and fell in love with her…. I am forever falling in love with babies… nothing new or novel about the same. And when they all cross the age of 3 they turn out to be brats and break my heart….. I am like women in an abusive relationship. I still can’t let go of my sweethearts….
She was tiny, wrapped tight with a cute bonnet on her tiny little head, not serving its purpose at all since I could see her thatch of dark black hair peep out as if playing peek a boo. Eyes scrunched shut, unaware of the racket spewing around her she lay motionless and serene looking like an award winning photograph.
I was lost in thought wondering in bewilderment about her smallness. I actually guffawed loudly when an uncle of mine held her with as much trepidation and care as Horton{ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horton_Hears_a_Who!%7Dwhen he held the speck . Him a 6 foot 80 something kilogram giant and her, a 3 kilogram mite. I am sure I chuckled loudly because I was rewarded with weird looks from my relatives who were until then busy clucking around the baby like nutty mother hens….. I felt like a dartboard…
She was so small. I wish small had a synonym that clubbed petite and cute and cuddly in it… I need such an adjective to justly describe her. I was petrified to hold her when I was asked if I’d like to by my aunt. And I didn’t in fact for the fear of breaking her or dropping her prevailed over my maternal instincts.
But imagining the so called tiny baby in the now deflated stomach of my aunt made my petite doll remind me of an Alsatian in a terrier’s kennel.
I am the older sister to 7 children including this fledgling, 6 of who are cousins. I’ve been privileged enough to see them all as soon as they were born, but I’ve never ceased to be amazed by how an actual live person can be so small, so petite, so perfect, so tiny, so dark……
Dark?????? My blissful line of thought was broken by the superfluous ravings of my family around me.
“Yes, she’s dark!” piped in a grandaunt
“Yeah, like her dad” chipped in another
“Some kids gain colour after a few days.. yeah she’ll turn out pretty and fair as she grows up.”
“ Oh! Yes! They grow to resemble the other parent, so maybe her mom’s traits will surface in time to come.” Grunted a granduncle with the air of a genetics expert.
The new mother looked apologetically at these people as if the baby and she had committed some crime. They made my doll sound like a blurred photograph.
My mind reeled into flashback
13 years back
“Mommy, why am I not as fair as you?” Does that mean I am not pretty? Does that mean I’m not yours?”
That was a five year old child’s predicament to a mother who didn’t know how to let her baby know that she was beautiful and meant the world.
5 years from then
“What is blushing? I read it in this book”
“That is when some one feels shy and the blood rushes to their cheeks making it go pink or red”
“Do I blush?”
“ No! honey with your skin tone it’s not possible or maybe its not visible. You can observe your brother if you want to. He is fair.”
2 years from then
“You, young woman are so different from everyone in the family… Your head’s always buried in a book or you’re in your own world… Apt to be called the black sheep, you are! {laughing in the background}
Back to the present 2009
Dear baby,
You don’t even have a name yet but they have already tagged you with a label.
I can’t say this out loud to you because, well you can’t understand{ the same stands for the rubbish these people are blathering and thank god for that}. But I hope that these thoughts flow from my heart to yours.
You’re not fair like mommy because you look like daddy and he loves you a lot. He’s darn good looking too, that’s why mom fell for him.
You’re every bit your mom’s. Basic genetics states you receive one of your parents’ skin tones. Daddy rules in that department.
You’re the prettiest thing I’ve set my eyes on in the last 18 years.
You’re gorgeous as hell, heaven too. Boys will queue for you…. It’s only obvious since Naomi Campbell, Bipasha Basu{a famous dusky indian supermodel and actress} Rihanna and Beyonce are so much in demand.
Of course you blush! Just like any other human. And when you do you are like creamy coffee with saffron sprinkled over it.
Anyone wanting to apply a fairness cream on you later in life can go take a hike. We are not interested in contributing to the ever increasing sales of fairness cosmetics industry in the nation of India.
Majority of the CEO’S, Oscar winning actors, statesmen, and writers have been the odd ones out in their families…. The black sheep… hahahahaha
Americans and Europeans run the risk of sunburns to achieve your skin tone. Young girls who resemble milk chocolate bronze themselves because bronze is sexy! You’re less prone to sunburns and skin cancer. Last time I read the traditional religious stories{and I believe I am well versed in them] lord Krishna was dark and he had around 16,000 wives and still waiting I think. Draupadi
{http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draupadi }
was queen to five handsome kings!!!! She was dusky too…….
You’re siblings if and when they come might be fair…… So what?????? They might be pretty and so are you… They are the light, fresh, sunny, golden mornings people find adorable. You’re the moist, misty, mysterious, glorious star strewn night that people find gorgeous and alluring. I never heard people say only mornings are beautiful and nights are not. You might not be peaches and cream…. But you are strawberries and chocolate………
We Indians bicker about racism in the west. Maybe we should check out the situation in and around our vicinity first.
Lastly, I love you. We are sisters in more ways than you’ll ever know.
Yours sweet as dark chocolate
Falak
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly...
This rain here, outside my window is a big time tease….. It drizzles and tempts me with hopes of a shower to wash away this heat. It only drizzles. It’s like walking in to your apartment smelling pizza only to know it’s from the neighbour’s house.
The weather in Mumbai is nuts. Oh! And happy birthday gran!!!
One second you feel like you’re in a frying pan and then in the next before you can say ‘monsoon’ you’re drenched from head to toe. Well at least I can blame the weather for being the way it is, because it’s the weather. It’s supposed to be unpredictable {to all but the Met department}. What about unpredictable people??? Sometimes exhibiting a sunny disposition which only takes minutes to be covered by dark clouds of rage and thunder and lightening that continue for days making life humid and stuffy for the person at the receiving end….. On the occasions they do start pouring you wish the earth would split open and take you with it.
Yeah! We Indians have this thing for big families…… in other words you could say Joint families. It is good training. You will learn to weather any kind of storm, cyclone, hurricane, tornado, name it…… But it’s a life long course…
Most people drop out of the course and go for nuclear families, atomic families and the works…..…….
We grouse, protest, whine and are mean to each other….. Its routine…….. We have fun, huge gatherings, family outings and are an intricate support system….It’s routine….. We miss each other when we’re apart and shed tears when we part and spend the better part of the year waiting for the vacations to see the ones staying far off... If we end up under the same roof for a day more than the two months summer vacations encompass and end up invading the other’s privacy we start mentally killing the other a hundred times …….It’s routine…..
We can’t stand the way the doors are banged, the beds left unmade, the bathroom occupied for five minutes more than the allotted time, the food that’s another member’s favourite but our pet peeve. We always have enough space in the house to fit ourselves in. Irrespective of the fact that there are 12 of us and only two bedrooms...
We race to the loo first thing in the morning and to the door to get the morning newspaper fresh and not wrinkled….It’s routine…..
We make vacations historical, birth of babies breaking news, birthdays a festival that makes the neighbour’s kids go green with envy…. We make weddings unforgettable, and academic achievements resemble the declaration of independence...It’s routine...
We make life hell for each other, fight over property, and dig up old hostilities….. We have the memory of an elephant when it comes to remembering who did what to who’s grandmother and fight over it. We either insult each other or try to take a swipe at their husbands, wifes, in laws or kids…..
We are the households where mothers in law and daughters in law still view the husband as the bone of contention and the husband’s sister is the devil offering the apple……Its routine….
We are the only family in the colony that goes to the movies and occupies the whole of the last row or go to a restaurant and contribute to 90% of the cacophony and take more than an hour to order…That is ordering just the starters. The next door Khannas {a boring family of four} have finished a seven course meal and gone home meanwhile {they are gluttons too}…. It’s routine…
We make stories and break hearts. We laugh over ridiculous jokes and watch tearjerkers over and over again together…. It’s routine…
We predict when five year old Sharanya will get married and how and if three year old Aarya likes cars or cows….. Both of them at the moment are wrestling over a barbie doll's dress...{Can you beat that?}....
We fight for the remote control when a cricket match has reached the final over and simultaneously a movie is nearing the climax… The old yell hoarse at the young to turn down the music. But who is listening? It’s routine……. Either we just don’t get the concept of privacy or maybe we take it too much to heart… We treasure hand me downs… They track the growth rates of individuals belonging to the same generation. .. It’s routine.
We etch the recollections of loved ones gone in memories made of marble…. We collectively try to make sense out of the warbling of the new baby born this tuesday…… We have horrible secrets to hide and joyous news to spread…. We go on family vacations with members ranging from 2nd cousins to friends of our cousin's in laws.....We can depress each other to death or bring the other out of gloom and doom… It’s routine……
We pray together, eat together, hate together. But the best part is that we love together.
We are the perfect Indian Joint Family….
ENDANGERED SPECIES…ON THE VERGE OF EXTINCTION!
Yours, running to occupy the bathroom first….
Be right back
Falak
The weather in Mumbai is nuts. Oh! And happy birthday gran!!!
One second you feel like you’re in a frying pan and then in the next before you can say ‘monsoon’ you’re drenched from head to toe. Well at least I can blame the weather for being the way it is, because it’s the weather. It’s supposed to be unpredictable {to all but the Met department}. What about unpredictable people??? Sometimes exhibiting a sunny disposition which only takes minutes to be covered by dark clouds of rage and thunder and lightening that continue for days making life humid and stuffy for the person at the receiving end….. On the occasions they do start pouring you wish the earth would split open and take you with it.
Yeah! We Indians have this thing for big families…… in other words you could say Joint families. It is good training. You will learn to weather any kind of storm, cyclone, hurricane, tornado, name it…… But it’s a life long course…
Most people drop out of the course and go for nuclear families, atomic families and the works…..…….
We grouse, protest, whine and are mean to each other….. Its routine…….. We have fun, huge gatherings, family outings and are an intricate support system….It’s routine….. We miss each other when we’re apart and shed tears when we part and spend the better part of the year waiting for the vacations to see the ones staying far off... If we end up under the same roof for a day more than the two months summer vacations encompass and end up invading the other’s privacy we start mentally killing the other a hundred times …….It’s routine…..
We can’t stand the way the doors are banged, the beds left unmade, the bathroom occupied for five minutes more than the allotted time, the food that’s another member’s favourite but our pet peeve. We always have enough space in the house to fit ourselves in. Irrespective of the fact that there are 12 of us and only two bedrooms...
We race to the loo first thing in the morning and to the door to get the morning newspaper fresh and not wrinkled….It’s routine…..
We make vacations historical, birth of babies breaking news, birthdays a festival that makes the neighbour’s kids go green with envy…. We make weddings unforgettable, and academic achievements resemble the declaration of independence...It’s routine...
We make life hell for each other, fight over property, and dig up old hostilities….. We have the memory of an elephant when it comes to remembering who did what to who’s grandmother and fight over it. We either insult each other or try to take a swipe at their husbands, wifes, in laws or kids…..
We are the households where mothers in law and daughters in law still view the husband as the bone of contention and the husband’s sister is the devil offering the apple……Its routine….
We are the only family in the colony that goes to the movies and occupies the whole of the last row or go to a restaurant and contribute to 90% of the cacophony and take more than an hour to order…That is ordering just the starters. The next door Khannas {a boring family of four} have finished a seven course meal and gone home meanwhile {they are gluttons too}…. It’s routine…
We make stories and break hearts. We laugh over ridiculous jokes and watch tearjerkers over and over again together…. It’s routine…
We predict when five year old Sharanya will get married and how and if three year old Aarya likes cars or cows….. Both of them at the moment are wrestling over a barbie doll's dress...{Can you beat that?}....
We fight for the remote control when a cricket match has reached the final over and simultaneously a movie is nearing the climax… The old yell hoarse at the young to turn down the music. But who is listening? It’s routine……. Either we just don’t get the concept of privacy or maybe we take it too much to heart… We treasure hand me downs… They track the growth rates of individuals belonging to the same generation. .. It’s routine.
We etch the recollections of loved ones gone in memories made of marble…. We collectively try to make sense out of the warbling of the new baby born this tuesday…… We have horrible secrets to hide and joyous news to spread…. We go on family vacations with members ranging from 2nd cousins to friends of our cousin's in laws.....We can depress each other to death or bring the other out of gloom and doom… It’s routine……
We pray together, eat together, hate together. But the best part is that we love together.
We are the perfect Indian Joint Family….
ENDANGERED SPECIES…ON THE VERGE OF EXTINCTION!
Yours, running to occupy the bathroom first….
Be right back
Falak
Sunday, September 13, 2009
This too shall pass..........
This post is a special one going out to my dad who celebrates his birthday today! And my bro SRjr who will celebrate his this thursday... Love you both.... Love you always....... This also goes out to my FAV aunt and 3 of my uncles 2 of whom celebrate their birthday this month too. I hope you always think of me as sugar sweet!!!..............And one of my FAV male singers. Figure who that is yourselves! Good God!!! My life is full of virgoes!!!!!!!!!
Birthdays remind us of the precious time gone by and precious time left..........
This birthday special goes out to alllllll of you guys sooo busy that you forget to take a breath and relax! So have fun enjoy the message { a rather long one}below!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am always doing two things at a time. One of the two always remains constant through out the day. My second set of actions keeps changing. It changes according to what people require off me. It repeats itself like the hands of clock. Twice in twenty four hours it ends up in the exact same spot. As long as the battery is intact this happens. The days it gives up so will the rhythmic ticking.
My first set of action is well, not a set exactly but a single action. It’s been there since I have come into being. It isn’t like breathing, I can alter breathing. It’s more like staying alive, just being alive. You can’t will it to stop. This action is thinking. Not the thinking over schedules to keep up to, assignments to complete or trains to catch.
Its thinking about the people that pass me by, weaving stories about them around the snippets of their conversations I hear, looking around me, not analysing or calculating, just soaking up the things around me the way they are.
Even thinking is like the ticking of the clock. The clock isn’t just a metaphor for mundane or monotonous routines. It changes. It can be eight in the morning or eight in the evening. It is a question of AM or PM but it matters a great deal. Thinking also changes like the changes in day and night. It is perspective that changes the essence of thought, but unlike the tic -toc that urges you to hurry the rhythm of thought is like a lullaby. It soothes you and slowly envelopes you in a secret world, a cocoon that is only protective and not suffocating.
Thought and silence come hand in hand. I have always believed that silence is golden and I still do. I prefer being the “silent spectator” like my friends fancy calling me. They feel silence is discomfiture, rudeness and the complete opposite of what etiquette calls for. They haven’t experienced the pleasure of observing, of listening, of dreaming. It is like lying on a soft downy bed after a hard day’s work. It’s like olives; you have to acquire a taste for it.
The mind is like a personal den. It offers you all the comforts of a bean bag, a deep soft rug to sink your cold legs into and a mug of coffee to warm you without actually providing the same.
To be lost in one’s own world is to be in fools paradise is what people say.
I will not contradict them but isn’t giving up something like the inexplicable beauty of the entire world which resides in the most composite form of happiness within you being in the most foolish fool’s hell?
We always do what others expect of us, playing a part in the obscure rigmarole called “normal life”. It is but a roof that stands on the four walls called ambition, drive, ruthlessness and energy.
But what most of us forget is that while building up these walls we put in so much of what we possess into its construction that there is nothing left for the walls to shelter, no one, not even yourself.
And what do empty and uncared houses do? They haunt……. They weep in silence until their own tears inundate them... But again who has the time to ponder over emptiness, a lack of some comfort is always pushing us over the edge to better ourselves. But it is always about things that can be seen and sensed, it’s the tangible that makes a difference. We never value things that can be only felt.
I am driven by what I feel, but what I must do creates a barricade that holds my feelings prisoner. My feelings are strong; they won’t give up without a fight. They beat with their little fists on the heavy, sturdy, constant walls until a crack appears somewhere. It isn’t easy to break these fortifications. They are the notions of other people regarding who I should be… it takes time. The fists of my feelings turn bloody, locked up within me they pace up and down varying from anger, melancholy to depression.
However we push them aside, nicknaming them as mood swings and vagaries of the human temperament. We let the feelings die when imprisoned, not even giving them a chance to appeal…….. We move on letting the creators of the barricade dictate terms to us. Never once thinking about the past, never once looking back.
Sometimes to go ahead you need to sift through sands of the past. When the dust is cleared you might find a precious shell that can add strength, spirit and splendour to the sand castle of your future. The future is nothing but a sand castle that the waters of time will wash away… it’s only the creation of something so elegant that make up memories. And the present becomes valuable just doing what your heart tells you to.
We always set standards or conditions and erase the beauty of most simple things. We assign to poetry figures of speech, paradoxes, rhyme schemes and kill the wonder the words evoke through constant analysis. Poetry lies in the beauty of the thought, the manner in which it is contemplated. Not in the realistic message that it is supposed to give. Not everything has a cause or reason. Certain things must be done or just have to happen, like writing down the words that flow through your heart and head.
What did the poet feel when he was writing isn’t the question. What are you feeling as you are reading it is what matters. Does it touch that part of you that you seldom realise is hidden there? Only then does it serve its purpose.
I eat because I am told to. I eat what is there. No one understands the marvel of eating what your senses crave for…..they do not comprehend the sharpness of the salt or the lingering aftertaste of sugar when you satisfy a craving…
I read books and listen to music together, both actions never reaching completion. But I have to. I am in a race against time striving to do all I want to but enjoying none in the process.
I prefer the cold… I enjoy it; because I feel cold I revel in the warmth I experience later. I can’t do justice to one without the other. I get hurt too.
Pain locks up our true self. I hadn’t written for a long time. I would come close to it but a curt word, a sharp reprimand would crush the inspiration that dared to bud.
But the pain at times feeds the seed of inspiration urging it to grow into a beautiful tree. Pain can also unlock talent; it can unlock our true selves. The only the realisation of the simple fact that doing what you want to do will make you happy is important… read a book; live the book… watch a movie if you feel like; enjoy in the splendour of someone’s creativity. Look outside, look at nature. Absorb the divinity of all the loveliness around you. Once in a while snuggle up in bed for 5 extra minutes if you want to. Maybe you might not find time for it ever again. Listen to music, live the lyrics. Songs are naught but poetry with a tune. Sing out loud it doesn’t matter if you sound like a donkey braying. Write a song; its all about writing what you feel and give it to someone you love! Cook, Create something that is appetizing to your nose, eyes and taste buds. Let your eyes feast on it before your mouth does…… maybe you might burn down the kitchen but you sure will have fun! Wear what makes you feel good, cosy and nice, even if it is a bathrobe.
Be silent if you wish to. Loquaciousness is overrated. What matters is what you feel about yourself not what others feel.
Pain and hurt and tension and all others things that are not nice are like dawn. It sheds light on all the things that we don’t want to see or go through again. But I stay content in the knowledge that this dawn will end in dusk where everything will slow down, where darkness will blanket and dull the jarring impact of reality, where we can give way to sleep and let our body indulge in peace that is felt when dreams illuminate the unknown joy hidden in the silence of night.
For then I know that I survived the ticking clock’s nagging reminders. That I have tried my best to be perfect and good and make others happy and like the glaring hot light of the day unhappiness shall make way for cosy and happy dusks….. That this too shall pass…
Yours thoughtfully
Falak
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Love and other similar disasters
Everybody is always lamenting about the economy these days…..
I am told it is basically people who were spendthrifts all their life before the market crashed and now have to keep all that green paper on a tight leash. I feel sorry for them since most of these innate squanderers must have only leashed dogs all their lives {think Chihuahuas with ribbons}. And if they are compulsive whiners then I can only imagine how distraught they must be wondering who exactly to blame since half of them do not have the mental facility to understand complex economics that explains markets…. After doing two years of economics I myself turn tone deaf if some one does me the superfluous favour of asking questions to compliment my non-existent excellence in the subject. Phew!!!!!! People, I tell you!!
Well I have decided to help these destitute souls by giving them someone to pass the buck on to. Maybe they should try the “New World Order”…..
For any one who is delighted that I am finally going to give substantial proof regarding my craziness by coming up with the most moronic cock and bull story possible then sorry to burst your bubble in advance. This isn’t my idea……. It’s a conspiracy theory that says that the whole world is controlled by a secret group of bankers who control the world through central banks……….. Ooooooooooohhhhhh!!!!!!!! Have we {as in you people reading this} already started seeing malevolence hidden behind the benevolent central banks who saved us all from drowning with the economy when it took an almighty downward plunge??????? I don’t know………But it’s a refreshing change from the ‘bad loans thanks to America theory’. {Persons wanting to know more about this particular theory, since you’re already online go Google it: P………}.
Talking of Google I quite like the way they changed their icon to commemorate Michael Jackson’s 51st birthday. All music channels were busy showing his most popular songs…. There are controversies regarding his death too! People have been talking of weird things happening in Neverland…… Please ignore the harmless ones about him being drugged and stuff. There are certain stories that raise your hackles about him having been possessed by some vile extra terrestrial creature. Ughhhhhhh........ I am sure Peterpan must be turning around in his grave {that is if he was stupid enough to leave the real neverland and turn old and die or he was really dumb and ticked tinker bell off}. If this sounds Greek to you I declare you as failed in your fairytales paper so go brush up on that aspect.
Talking of fairytales I always have come across write-ups declaring the prince Charles princess Diana wedding to be a fairytale wedding……. Too bad it ended up in adultery, a marriage broken and a car crash and put a rude full stop to the already dwindling belief of people in happy endings. It has always intrigued me how she died…… Her death has been topic for conversations on stormy nights by a fireside or cosy bedrooms filled with giggling teenagers on a sleepover or at dinner tables for years now…… Was she pregnant??????? Was she engaged to Dodi Fayed? Was it the paparazzi???? A drunk driver???? Or the MI6 {That is the british secret service... think james bond or british version of CIA}??? No one knows and those who do will never speak….. There’s a hilarious theory that says the world is dominated by some reptilian alien species that has taken over bodies of all the powerful people like the British royal family and George Bush and that princess Di’s knowledge of the same got her killed so that she would remain silent on this front……… Yeah I can imagine a reptile inside George Bush……. No wonder he reads books upside down and his hand is on his stomach since his heart is there {incase he has one} during the national anthem…….. Maybe that is why the day before when I was busy teaching the students in my social involvement programme this unusually monstrous lizard outside the window looked as if it was actually staring at me…….. maybe it’s an alien planning to invade my body next…… if the next post is about houseflies and other unappetizing delicacies please realize what must have happened……..brrrrrrr the very thought stuns me at a molecular, cellular whatever level …….
Cellular reminds me of secret cells and societies like the illumnati and the skull and bones in the Yale University. These are supposedly secret societies {how the hell it is then that they are all over search engines if there are ‘secret’ I don’t know} which aim at controlling the world or something exceedingly ambitious along the lines. Funny thing is that even here beloved Georgie’s name crops up again……. He is supposed to be a member of the Skull and Bones society at Yale. Yeah! Nice …… Lot like Jughead getting the Nobel Prize!
I like the whole aliens do exist concept… gives me a reason to keep gazing out of class during lectures….. “But Miss, honest to God! I saw an UFO...”
Hmmmmmmmm maybe Steven Spielberg should try making one more alien movie after war of the worlds wherein the President of the nation is an alien and gives out destructive orders! Hehehehehehehe………… Destructive governments ring a bell about false flag operations…….. It is actually a simple concept you know. You thought the 9/11 and other acts of terror were committed by terror cells out side of your nation????? How about this …. What if the terror cell was a white lie used by an instable government to gain the confidence of the masses???? {Meaning they did it themselves and fooled you big time by concoting stories about extremists at work} What better situation to do so than create a state of fear themselves so that the public would rely and put their trust in them???????? Smart huh????? Yeah!!! Ever heard of the book State of Fear by Michael Crichton………… It gives you a different outlook on the whole global warming gobbledygook. Gives me something to throw back at environmentalists who are just mentalists and nothing else... … The book basically enlightens us about “eco-terrorists” and how big fat firms use statistics to frighten us, ‘the erudite populace’. If you are worried about the whole world ending up being a huge edition of the Sahara desert then I think the book will make you worry about if you shall be sharing backyard space with mammoths and sabre-tooths since winter will be for ever and fur will be in fashion{ I wonder what PETA will have to say then}. It also raises the question ‘so what about petrol and all that???’ I mean if there supposedly is no global warming and all these resources won't exhaust themselves then why all that hike in prices of petrol huh?????? Anyways the Arabs I am sure will hate this conspiracy theory if it ever turns out to be proved true. Well! So much for all their man made islands……….. Maybe when apocalypse or the day of judgement or whatever calls upon us then maybe these islands will be all that is left for us like Noah’s ark or something you know! Yeah!
Some people think that the recent entry into our “diseases list”, swine flu is an experiment gone bad of the bio-weapons section of the US army……. Maybe they read Stephen King’s ‘The Stand’. Come to think of it the ‘captain tripps’ {the disease in the book} and our swiney are very much alike in a spooky, freaky kind of way……….
I wonder what big brother will have to say about my ideas on conspiracies……… Yeah they are saying that forced transition to Digital television broadcasting is practical realization of Big Brother concept. They claim that miniature cameras and microphones are built in Set-top boxes and newer TV sets to spy on people. Another claim describes use of mind control technology that would be hidden in the digital signal and used to subvert the mind and feelings of the people for subliminal advertising ……….. That and the movie" eagle eye "is true! it’s a nice movie though! I loved Shia ………
People always ask me how come I suddenly got hooked to English music…… I always was a Hindi gal {I still am}… Maybe the songs all have back masking in it you know. When you rewind the song a secret message is heard and in the normal version all you hear is baseless noise to fill in the space between verses and choruses….. And the secret message must have entered my subconscious without my knowing and I got addicted to these songs and bands and singers and then I became a follower of Satan and his diabolic ways…….Yada yada yada…….. People are so paranoid.……… Next we will have some group trying to exorcise the Linkin Park and the Jonas Brothers to stop then from sending god knows what devilish ideas to youngsters… The JoBros will charm their way out of trouble I am sure, what with all the smiles and clowning around……. But the Linkin Park will find it a bit trickier you know….. Basically all they have to do is to blast one of their songs at full volume… not a soul will dare come near ever again.
Souls and Satan and spirits have always intrigued humans….. What with the fascination with the number 666 and Ghost Hunters on the channel star world…… I always wonder how people differentiate between multiple personality disorder and possession of a body by a spirit…… Maybe it’s one and the same. Or maybe it isn’t. But it’s weird how people with MPD talk in languages they never even knew to exist in their normal state of mind… No wonder conspiracy theorists believe in all that hogwash about phantoms and spectres and stuff… All these weirdo conjectures are nothing compared to the most ancient theory that started doing its rounds since they days of Adam and Eve….. Oh c’mon!!!!!! We know it don’t we????? Alright …… it’s called “The Existence of LOVE” …. And I’ll tell you why I think it’s so…. There are those who are in favour of it and those who oppose its existence staunchly… We know both these sets of people. It isn’t like a certain group of scientists we can’t relate to even in the wildest of our imaginations. Some are our friends some are family and sometimes ‘tis just us. Meanwhile "We spend half our lives speculating, calculating, and cogitating about the existence of love whereas if we had put in the same amount of time and effort in the stock market we would have become millionaires" which is the smart quote for the day………. And like all other cock and bull stories we have a lot of books and movies made on this and we have a ball of a time adding fuel to the fires of our imagination……
So fundamentally LOVE is also a conspiracy theory in its own diabetic, cardiac arresting way…….. You can give me your views and opinions …… this is one hot topic for debating……. I am not for or against it….. I am, just having fun instigating you guys to give me your views………..
Until I am sure about my own stand on the love theory……..
Yours truly busy conspiring and instigating………
Falak
I am told it is basically people who were spendthrifts all their life before the market crashed and now have to keep all that green paper on a tight leash. I feel sorry for them since most of these innate squanderers must have only leashed dogs all their lives {think Chihuahuas with ribbons}. And if they are compulsive whiners then I can only imagine how distraught they must be wondering who exactly to blame since half of them do not have the mental facility to understand complex economics that explains markets…. After doing two years of economics I myself turn tone deaf if some one does me the superfluous favour of asking questions to compliment my non-existent excellence in the subject. Phew!!!!!! People, I tell you!!
Well I have decided to help these destitute souls by giving them someone to pass the buck on to. Maybe they should try the “New World Order”…..
For any one who is delighted that I am finally going to give substantial proof regarding my craziness by coming up with the most moronic cock and bull story possible then sorry to burst your bubble in advance. This isn’t my idea……. It’s a conspiracy theory that says that the whole world is controlled by a secret group of bankers who control the world through central banks……….. Ooooooooooohhhhhh!!!!!!!! Have we {as in you people reading this} already started seeing malevolence hidden behind the benevolent central banks who saved us all from drowning with the economy when it took an almighty downward plunge??????? I don’t know………But it’s a refreshing change from the ‘bad loans thanks to America theory’. {Persons wanting to know more about this particular theory, since you’re already online go Google it: P………}.
Talking of Google I quite like the way they changed their icon to commemorate Michael Jackson’s 51st birthday. All music channels were busy showing his most popular songs…. There are controversies regarding his death too! People have been talking of weird things happening in Neverland…… Please ignore the harmless ones about him being drugged and stuff. There are certain stories that raise your hackles about him having been possessed by some vile extra terrestrial creature. Ughhhhhhh........ I am sure Peterpan must be turning around in his grave {that is if he was stupid enough to leave the real neverland and turn old and die or he was really dumb and ticked tinker bell off}. If this sounds Greek to you I declare you as failed in your fairytales paper so go brush up on that aspect.
Talking of fairytales I always have come across write-ups declaring the prince Charles princess Diana wedding to be a fairytale wedding……. Too bad it ended up in adultery, a marriage broken and a car crash and put a rude full stop to the already dwindling belief of people in happy endings. It has always intrigued me how she died…… Her death has been topic for conversations on stormy nights by a fireside or cosy bedrooms filled with giggling teenagers on a sleepover or at dinner tables for years now…… Was she pregnant??????? Was she engaged to Dodi Fayed? Was it the paparazzi???? A drunk driver???? Or the MI6 {That is the british secret service... think james bond or british version of CIA}??? No one knows and those who do will never speak….. There’s a hilarious theory that says the world is dominated by some reptilian alien species that has taken over bodies of all the powerful people like the British royal family and George Bush and that princess Di’s knowledge of the same got her killed so that she would remain silent on this front……… Yeah I can imagine a reptile inside George Bush……. No wonder he reads books upside down and his hand is on his stomach since his heart is there {incase he has one} during the national anthem…….. Maybe that is why the day before when I was busy teaching the students in my social involvement programme this unusually monstrous lizard outside the window looked as if it was actually staring at me…….. maybe it’s an alien planning to invade my body next…… if the next post is about houseflies and other unappetizing delicacies please realize what must have happened……..brrrrrrr the very thought stuns me at a molecular, cellular whatever level …….
Cellular reminds me of secret cells and societies like the illumnati and the skull and bones in the Yale University. These are supposedly secret societies {how the hell it is then that they are all over search engines if there are ‘secret’ I don’t know} which aim at controlling the world or something exceedingly ambitious along the lines. Funny thing is that even here beloved Georgie’s name crops up again……. He is supposed to be a member of the Skull and Bones society at Yale. Yeah! Nice …… Lot like Jughead getting the Nobel Prize!
I like the whole aliens do exist concept… gives me a reason to keep gazing out of class during lectures….. “But Miss, honest to God! I saw an UFO...”
Hmmmmmmmm maybe Steven Spielberg should try making one more alien movie after war of the worlds wherein the President of the nation is an alien and gives out destructive orders! Hehehehehehehe………… Destructive governments ring a bell about false flag operations…….. It is actually a simple concept you know. You thought the 9/11 and other acts of terror were committed by terror cells out side of your nation????? How about this …. What if the terror cell was a white lie used by an instable government to gain the confidence of the masses???? {Meaning they did it themselves and fooled you big time by concoting stories about extremists at work} What better situation to do so than create a state of fear themselves so that the public would rely and put their trust in them???????? Smart huh????? Yeah!!! Ever heard of the book State of Fear by Michael Crichton………… It gives you a different outlook on the whole global warming gobbledygook. Gives me something to throw back at environmentalists who are just mentalists and nothing else... … The book basically enlightens us about “eco-terrorists” and how big fat firms use statistics to frighten us, ‘the erudite populace’. If you are worried about the whole world ending up being a huge edition of the Sahara desert then I think the book will make you worry about if you shall be sharing backyard space with mammoths and sabre-tooths since winter will be for ever and fur will be in fashion{ I wonder what PETA will have to say then}. It also raises the question ‘so what about petrol and all that???’ I mean if there supposedly is no global warming and all these resources won't exhaust themselves then why all that hike in prices of petrol huh?????? Anyways the Arabs I am sure will hate this conspiracy theory if it ever turns out to be proved true. Well! So much for all their man made islands……….. Maybe when apocalypse or the day of judgement or whatever calls upon us then maybe these islands will be all that is left for us like Noah’s ark or something you know! Yeah!
Some people think that the recent entry into our “diseases list”, swine flu is an experiment gone bad of the bio-weapons section of the US army……. Maybe they read Stephen King’s ‘The Stand’. Come to think of it the ‘captain tripps’ {the disease in the book} and our swiney are very much alike in a spooky, freaky kind of way……….
I wonder what big brother will have to say about my ideas on conspiracies……… Yeah they are saying that forced transition to Digital television broadcasting is practical realization of Big Brother concept. They claim that miniature cameras and microphones are built in Set-top boxes and newer TV sets to spy on people. Another claim describes use of mind control technology that would be hidden in the digital signal and used to subvert the mind and feelings of the people for subliminal advertising ……….. That and the movie" eagle eye "is true! it’s a nice movie though! I loved Shia ………
People always ask me how come I suddenly got hooked to English music…… I always was a Hindi gal {I still am}… Maybe the songs all have back masking in it you know. When you rewind the song a secret message is heard and in the normal version all you hear is baseless noise to fill in the space between verses and choruses….. And the secret message must have entered my subconscious without my knowing and I got addicted to these songs and bands and singers and then I became a follower of Satan and his diabolic ways…….Yada yada yada…….. People are so paranoid.……… Next we will have some group trying to exorcise the Linkin Park and the Jonas Brothers to stop then from sending god knows what devilish ideas to youngsters… The JoBros will charm their way out of trouble I am sure, what with all the smiles and clowning around……. But the Linkin Park will find it a bit trickier you know….. Basically all they have to do is to blast one of their songs at full volume… not a soul will dare come near ever again.
Souls and Satan and spirits have always intrigued humans….. What with the fascination with the number 666 and Ghost Hunters on the channel star world…… I always wonder how people differentiate between multiple personality disorder and possession of a body by a spirit…… Maybe it’s one and the same. Or maybe it isn’t. But it’s weird how people with MPD talk in languages they never even knew to exist in their normal state of mind… No wonder conspiracy theorists believe in all that hogwash about phantoms and spectres and stuff… All these weirdo conjectures are nothing compared to the most ancient theory that started doing its rounds since they days of Adam and Eve….. Oh c’mon!!!!!! We know it don’t we????? Alright …… it’s called “The Existence of LOVE” …. And I’ll tell you why I think it’s so…. There are those who are in favour of it and those who oppose its existence staunchly… We know both these sets of people. It isn’t like a certain group of scientists we can’t relate to even in the wildest of our imaginations. Some are our friends some are family and sometimes ‘tis just us. Meanwhile "We spend half our lives speculating, calculating, and cogitating about the existence of love whereas if we had put in the same amount of time and effort in the stock market we would have become millionaires" which is the smart quote for the day………. And like all other cock and bull stories we have a lot of books and movies made on this and we have a ball of a time adding fuel to the fires of our imagination……
So fundamentally LOVE is also a conspiracy theory in its own diabetic, cardiac arresting way…….. You can give me your views and opinions …… this is one hot topic for debating……. I am not for or against it….. I am, just having fun instigating you guys to give me your views………..
Until I am sure about my own stand on the love theory……..
Yours truly busy conspiring and instigating………
Falak
Friday, August 21, 2009
What say you?
They all assured me college was going to be mind blowing…….
They were true to their word I tell you…. My mind blew off.
Months earlier I came across an article in the paper related to euphemisms.
The publishers thought it necessary to do so only when poor Carol Gracias { an indian model} had a wardrobe malfunction….{to the lay man that would be ‘she was on the ramp and since the designer was as careless as could be her clothes fell off and the viewers got a show more outstanding than they had paid for…….}
Instead of saying so and so died we gift wrap it {putting things in a nice manner} and tell they passed away. {What were they? smoke???} The smart journalists were of the opinion that it was they who came up with such discreet expressions to put forth something socially disapproved {unclothed women on stage are you know} and death of a loved one {humans generally hate facing the truth they prefer having their bones crushed to talcum powder than do away with their illusions}.
Asinine journos I tell you……..
That fact about our ingenious scribes I only realised when I stepped into ‘college life’…. The seeds for ear catching phrases had started out years before not in the fertile brains of a reporter in a conference room but in the not totally rusty if not well oiled brains of students in college campuses.
“Hey! Did you check out that couple making out there?????? Oooooohhhhhhhhh…….. Gross I tell you…….”
I gave the ever bemused smile of a rookie { euphemism for a fresh out of school individual…….. Didn’t want any expression on my naturally expressive face that would show I understood all of what was being said as much as I understood Shakespeare’s plays. Did I? {Some how the expressiveness never showed up during the bharatnatyam classes I tell you…uggghhh} I forgot about all of that when I reached home since I had more pressing matters in my mind like whether my outfits were trendy enough or not or if I had made the right kind of friends or not..{Adolescence I tell ...Yuck…angst ridden adolescence}
Few months later I was rudely shaken out of my reverie of whether I should tell this girl {called CP for conveniences sake} who would stick around with me despite my easy-to-read face showing that she was smothering me like only a vacuumed chamber could with her constantly lingering around me to bugger off {turned out my face wasn’t animated enough when the time came or she was as blind as a bat}. I turned around to see it was CP herself to my great horror and chagrin {as if she could have any inkling of what was going inside that double number locked head of mine. But like I said my face broke into spontaneous animation when the same was least required of it}
I smiled the most ah-I am- such – a nice –person kind of smile {which apparently works!! That doesn’t mean I am not nice you know} and looked up at her. She gave me her best Colgate-say –cheese smile and pointed out to me two people who I was least concerned about in the world. Luckily for her my not knowing any other people in college made it very easy for me to absorb her absurd behaviour like no one else could. “That girl is a good friend of mine you know” she told me as if it was something that I had been dying to know of after if brad and angie were actually together or not…….. I gave her the same engrossed look I would have given to one of Paris Hilton’s songs {yikes}. “I think she’s going around with that boy. He is also from our parish” she further supplied. I replied with an exaggerated Jim Carrey expression of shock “Ohhhhhhhhh I see!!!!!” My resolve to let her know about my feelings or lack of it towards her became as strong as that of the male protagonist in a romantic flick towards the climax. I was at a loss trying to understand why she would tell about two people going around the campus…… wasn’t it their wish if they wanted to walk?????? I sighed and made my way with her to our next lecture wondering which escape route would prove fruitful from being stuck in a 50 minute lecture with her beside me without hurting her feelings.
I found my chance soon enough as I ended up in a few lectures with total strangers of which CP wasn’t a part. Over time I started hanging out with few of the same people during the lunch break. Very soon her haunting became sporadic like my once in a week sinusitis headaches since she found new friends. I should also say that the two were a pain of the same magnitude. It was once during one of these CP free breaks when my friends had coaxed me to sit in the foyer {basically the canteen though I still have no clue as to why its is called that} which was supposedly a happening place {which means lot of noise &crowd} and one where CP didn’t like to come that I learned the meanings of all those phrases that sent my brain working over time in the past. My friends had a conversation which illuminated the dark world of ignorance {according to me its innocence} that I inhabited.
My friend Mads started laughing at the ridiculous spectacle of two girls hugging each other squealing at the top of their voices at a pitch I am sure must have set off all the dogs in the area into madness. She then said to my other friend Jovi
Mads: “Weren’t these two involved in a showdown last week?”
Jovi : “ yeah! A was mad at B because she caught her making out with the same guy she was going around with. It was big time PDA I hear!”
Shrut: “and now they are making up???????”
Bevy: “yeah! These townie chicks are just like that……. Unpredictable.
So the smart quote for today is " Treat a townie's actions like you would treat a politicians"
For all those teen-lingo impaired persons {which I was a few years back} reading the above a simpler version is
Girl A and girl B had a big fight because A saw B publically display physical affection{ it’s the euphemism for kissing and the works} the boy A was in a relationship with{ euphemism for he was her boyfriend}. And B and the boy’s public display of affection {full form of PDA} was gag worthy { which means disgusting}. And as of today the girls are forgetting their differences {euphemism for not hating each other} and have become friends once again. Girls {chicks} from the affluent south side of Mumbai also referred to as town {hence the inhabitants are called townies} always behave weirdly.
Nice huh???? We teens also dig short forms {dig means to love}. And have quite a few ingenious creations to our credit…… PDA was one. Because becomes coz and obvious “bcms” “obvio”. Deadly meant wonderful or really good. So did sexy.
I thought she was a psychotic when Shrut pointed out a sexy pair of shoes to me. When my face betrayed me she started ROTFL {rolling on the floor laughing} and told me “FYI it means awesome or great” {FYI is for your information}. We later went to a deadly movie and spent 15 minutes talking to a classmate who was “such a drag” {meaning plain boring} when both Bev and I said "Phew" together Mads giggled saying GMTA {great minds think alike}. Then when we saw that the frigging math lecture {depends whether it’s good or bad on what is frigging, in this case bad} was cancelled until next week we went OMG with delirious ecstasy and moved out when a confirmed junkie { not a junk food addict but a drug addict} crossed our path. On coming out of campus when we saw people from class taking a fag {smoking} we started talking on top of our voices about how smoking was banned by the law in public areas……. I felt the decibel level and exclamation was a little bit OTT {over the top} at which my friends turned senti {sentimental} with pride since I was getting the hang of things. We met another gal pal {friend who is a girl}who was a frenemie {who is a a friend and an enemy} and greeted her with a nonchalant wat's up?? also wassup??? {doesnt mean we are asking her what's above her head or whether she had her supper. It means hi}
Before you all feel beat up {no one is hitting you it means just tired} with deciphering this whole new language let me get back to figuring out what exactly Goth, Jock, Jerk, Dork and Nerd mean…….
Yours deadly,
BRB
Falak
They were true to their word I tell you…. My mind blew off.
Months earlier I came across an article in the paper related to euphemisms.
The publishers thought it necessary to do so only when poor Carol Gracias { an indian model} had a wardrobe malfunction….{to the lay man that would be ‘she was on the ramp and since the designer was as careless as could be her clothes fell off and the viewers got a show more outstanding than they had paid for…….}
Instead of saying so and so died we gift wrap it {putting things in a nice manner} and tell they passed away. {What were they? smoke???} The smart journalists were of the opinion that it was they who came up with such discreet expressions to put forth something socially disapproved {unclothed women on stage are you know} and death of a loved one {humans generally hate facing the truth they prefer having their bones crushed to talcum powder than do away with their illusions}.
Asinine journos I tell you……..
That fact about our ingenious scribes I only realised when I stepped into ‘college life’…. The seeds for ear catching phrases had started out years before not in the fertile brains of a reporter in a conference room but in the not totally rusty if not well oiled brains of students in college campuses.
“Hey! Did you check out that couple making out there?????? Oooooohhhhhhhhh…….. Gross I tell you…….”
I gave the ever bemused smile of a rookie { euphemism for a fresh out of school individual…….. Didn’t want any expression on my naturally expressive face that would show I understood all of what was being said as much as I understood Shakespeare’s plays. Did I? {Some how the expressiveness never showed up during the bharatnatyam classes I tell you…uggghhh} I forgot about all of that when I reached home since I had more pressing matters in my mind like whether my outfits were trendy enough or not or if I had made the right kind of friends or not..{Adolescence I tell ...Yuck…angst ridden adolescence}
Few months later I was rudely shaken out of my reverie of whether I should tell this girl {called CP for conveniences sake} who would stick around with me despite my easy-to-read face showing that she was smothering me like only a vacuumed chamber could with her constantly lingering around me to bugger off {turned out my face wasn’t animated enough when the time came or she was as blind as a bat}. I turned around to see it was CP herself to my great horror and chagrin {as if she could have any inkling of what was going inside that double number locked head of mine. But like I said my face broke into spontaneous animation when the same was least required of it}
I smiled the most ah-I am- such – a nice –person kind of smile {which apparently works!! That doesn’t mean I am not nice you know} and looked up at her. She gave me her best Colgate-say –cheese smile and pointed out to me two people who I was least concerned about in the world. Luckily for her my not knowing any other people in college made it very easy for me to absorb her absurd behaviour like no one else could. “That girl is a good friend of mine you know” she told me as if it was something that I had been dying to know of after if brad and angie were actually together or not…….. I gave her the same engrossed look I would have given to one of Paris Hilton’s songs {yikes}. “I think she’s going around with that boy. He is also from our parish” she further supplied. I replied with an exaggerated Jim Carrey expression of shock “Ohhhhhhhhh I see!!!!!” My resolve to let her know about my feelings or lack of it towards her became as strong as that of the male protagonist in a romantic flick towards the climax. I was at a loss trying to understand why she would tell about two people going around the campus…… wasn’t it their wish if they wanted to walk?????? I sighed and made my way with her to our next lecture wondering which escape route would prove fruitful from being stuck in a 50 minute lecture with her beside me without hurting her feelings.
I found my chance soon enough as I ended up in a few lectures with total strangers of which CP wasn’t a part. Over time I started hanging out with few of the same people during the lunch break. Very soon her haunting became sporadic like my once in a week sinusitis headaches since she found new friends. I should also say that the two were a pain of the same magnitude. It was once during one of these CP free breaks when my friends had coaxed me to sit in the foyer {basically the canteen though I still have no clue as to why its is called that} which was supposedly a happening place {which means lot of noise &crowd} and one where CP didn’t like to come that I learned the meanings of all those phrases that sent my brain working over time in the past. My friends had a conversation which illuminated the dark world of ignorance {according to me its innocence} that I inhabited.
My friend Mads started laughing at the ridiculous spectacle of two girls hugging each other squealing at the top of their voices at a pitch I am sure must have set off all the dogs in the area into madness. She then said to my other friend Jovi
Mads: “Weren’t these two involved in a showdown last week?”
Jovi : “ yeah! A was mad at B because she caught her making out with the same guy she was going around with. It was big time PDA I hear!”
Shrut: “and now they are making up???????”
Bevy: “yeah! These townie chicks are just like that……. Unpredictable.
So the smart quote for today is " Treat a townie's actions like you would treat a politicians"
For all those teen-lingo impaired persons {which I was a few years back} reading the above a simpler version is
Girl A and girl B had a big fight because A saw B publically display physical affection{ it’s the euphemism for kissing and the works} the boy A was in a relationship with{ euphemism for he was her boyfriend}. And B and the boy’s public display of affection {full form of PDA} was gag worthy { which means disgusting}. And as of today the girls are forgetting their differences {euphemism for not hating each other} and have become friends once again. Girls {chicks} from the affluent south side of Mumbai also referred to as town {hence the inhabitants are called townies} always behave weirdly.
Nice huh???? We teens also dig short forms {dig means to love}. And have quite a few ingenious creations to our credit…… PDA was one. Because becomes coz and obvious “bcms” “obvio”. Deadly meant wonderful or really good. So did sexy.
I thought she was a psychotic when Shrut pointed out a sexy pair of shoes to me. When my face betrayed me she started ROTFL {rolling on the floor laughing} and told me “FYI it means awesome or great” {FYI is for your information}. We later went to a deadly movie and spent 15 minutes talking to a classmate who was “such a drag” {meaning plain boring} when both Bev and I said "Phew" together Mads giggled saying GMTA {great minds think alike}. Then when we saw that the frigging math lecture {depends whether it’s good or bad on what is frigging, in this case bad} was cancelled until next week we went OMG with delirious ecstasy and moved out when a confirmed junkie { not a junk food addict but a drug addict} crossed our path. On coming out of campus when we saw people from class taking a fag {smoking} we started talking on top of our voices about how smoking was banned by the law in public areas……. I felt the decibel level and exclamation was a little bit OTT {over the top} at which my friends turned senti {sentimental} with pride since I was getting the hang of things. We met another gal pal {friend who is a girl}who was a frenemie {who is a a friend and an enemy} and greeted her with a nonchalant wat's up?? also wassup??? {doesnt mean we are asking her what's above her head or whether she had her supper. It means hi}
Before you all feel beat up {no one is hitting you it means just tired} with deciphering this whole new language let me get back to figuring out what exactly Goth, Jock, Jerk, Dork and Nerd mean…….
Yours deadly,
BRB
Falak
Friday, August 14, 2009
What's in a name???????
So there mates…….
your encouraging me felt awesome I must tell you. Your responses and eagerness for more enthralled me to the very tips of my hair. Mads, that’s one mail that will remain in my inbox until apocalypse raps smartly on my front door. Bev, your enthusiasm is so contagious I am sure it will prove to be a major rival to the swine flu. But you guys are acting all coy and not coming up with names for this blog. So be it then….. I came up with a few names of my own. ‘Let there be wit” and “much ado about everything”. The latter being the one I finally used. I know it sounds lamer than a one legged man trying to win an ass kicking competition.
But like the beloved Juliet says “what’s in a name?”Well, little did she realise that it’s the name itself that would be the harbinger of her death. I am sure if Romeo was not a Montague but a Khan the two would never have been written about because, well they would be alive wouldn’t they? Talking of these two love birds I was just thinking how convenient it would be for some more love stories of their kind to blossom currently. For those of you who are unaware R&J met at a masquerade party and it was literally love at first sight cause R had a mask on and it’s only the eyes that J saw and got attracted to at first. With the ongoing swine flu rampage in Mumbai and masks becoming 'the' thing to wear I am sure we don’t need masquerade balls for young people to look into each others eyes and fall in love. Gross I tell you. Yeah so you see you don’t have to become all despondent at the idea of sporting masks…. Look at the flipside people the very mask might find you your soul mate. But please get married after the swine flu is cleared because you don’t want to repent having seen the eyes and only realising later that the face sucks... phew!!
Talking of the swine flu I think I am indebted to it in more ways than any human can be except one owning a pharmaceutical company can be to a disease. That’s because I don’t have my Social Involvement Programme work to report to, have holidays so I can laze around at home and well it gives me a topic to write about.
Basically I’d be really grateful to the person who can tell me why exactly the swine flu is still called the swine flu....... Last I heard it took to mutating into something worse than it was and that bacon is still on the shelves doing decent business {so is ham and pork for all my meat loving people there}.
Even though there are no signs of the grey clouds of monsoon in this part of India that many a Bollywood lyricist uses as a parameter to compare the rich darkness of the heroine’s hair in Hindi songs we’re having a lot of thunderbolts being hurled upon us I must tell you. The biggest and most electrifying one is the cancellation of college festivals and on the whole festivals of all kinds. {By the way aren’t rain clouds grey? So what do these songs mean? That the lover is old and has grey hair????? Or are they colour blind????} I can already hear howls of disbelief of the college going population ranging in the age group of 15 to 21… sad but that’s what they call life you know, when a manic flu cancels much awaited festivals. That is your smart quote for today….
Life is also when wily and smart assed writers with one blue whale of an imagination portray vampires as the hottest thing on the block next to being stuck in the sauna in a thriller movie. Half the women I know are hooked to the twilight saga or true blood, the most happening series on television courtesy HBO. I am sure Stephanie Meyers and Alan Ball must be having a ‘ball ‘of a time looking at their sky rocketing bank balances that makes them richer than New York’s ‘mayor’{pun very much intended}….
Well that half of the population I mentioned earlier includes me and quoting the Jonas Brothers if I may do so ‘don’t charge me for the crime’. The funny part is we are searching for someone who has a sliver of the qualities Edward Cullen or Bill Compton has. The thing that's even funnier is that it really doesn’t matter to us whether they're named Edward, Bill, Eric or Frank Hardy or Ramu Kaka. If they are a vampire and a good one at that, well they fit the bill. No wonder we can’t find anyone like that because some how it slips off our minds like an ill fitted wig from a sweaty baldy’s head that these dream characters are frigging vampires. So for the life of me I can’t understand why we look out for a human. Oh well!, maybe until we do find a some what second hand human substitute we should indulge ourselves with mere drooling over twilight and true blood. . .....
Ughhhhhhhhhhhh see cute vampires do that to you. You feel like you’re a bloody housefly caught in a platinum spider web…… and it would be a bonus if spidey {as in Spiderman} comes along to save the day… Sorry for the overdose of inhuman/superhero movie/novel characters……….
Well until Edward, Bill or Spidey {and not a random sidey} comes along…………..
Yours stuck in the Romantic- Sci-Fi- Supernatural -Heroes zone
Falak
your encouraging me felt awesome I must tell you. Your responses and eagerness for more enthralled me to the very tips of my hair. Mads, that’s one mail that will remain in my inbox until apocalypse raps smartly on my front door. Bev, your enthusiasm is so contagious I am sure it will prove to be a major rival to the swine flu. But you guys are acting all coy and not coming up with names for this blog. So be it then….. I came up with a few names of my own. ‘Let there be wit” and “much ado about everything”. The latter being the one I finally used. I know it sounds lamer than a one legged man trying to win an ass kicking competition.
But like the beloved Juliet says “what’s in a name?”Well, little did she realise that it’s the name itself that would be the harbinger of her death. I am sure if Romeo was not a Montague but a Khan the two would never have been written about because, well they would be alive wouldn’t they? Talking of these two love birds I was just thinking how convenient it would be for some more love stories of their kind to blossom currently. For those of you who are unaware R&J met at a masquerade party and it was literally love at first sight cause R had a mask on and it’s only the eyes that J saw and got attracted to at first. With the ongoing swine flu rampage in Mumbai and masks becoming 'the' thing to wear I am sure we don’t need masquerade balls for young people to look into each others eyes and fall in love. Gross I tell you. Yeah so you see you don’t have to become all despondent at the idea of sporting masks…. Look at the flipside people the very mask might find you your soul mate. But please get married after the swine flu is cleared because you don’t want to repent having seen the eyes and only realising later that the face sucks... phew!!
Talking of the swine flu I think I am indebted to it in more ways than any human can be except one owning a pharmaceutical company can be to a disease. That’s because I don’t have my Social Involvement Programme work to report to, have holidays so I can laze around at home and well it gives me a topic to write about.
Basically I’d be really grateful to the person who can tell me why exactly the swine flu is still called the swine flu....... Last I heard it took to mutating into something worse than it was and that bacon is still on the shelves doing decent business {so is ham and pork for all my meat loving people there}.
Even though there are no signs of the grey clouds of monsoon in this part of India that many a Bollywood lyricist uses as a parameter to compare the rich darkness of the heroine’s hair in Hindi songs we’re having a lot of thunderbolts being hurled upon us I must tell you. The biggest and most electrifying one is the cancellation of college festivals and on the whole festivals of all kinds. {By the way aren’t rain clouds grey? So what do these songs mean? That the lover is old and has grey hair????? Or are they colour blind????} I can already hear howls of disbelief of the college going population ranging in the age group of 15 to 21… sad but that’s what they call life you know, when a manic flu cancels much awaited festivals. That is your smart quote for today….
Life is also when wily and smart assed writers with one blue whale of an imagination portray vampires as the hottest thing on the block next to being stuck in the sauna in a thriller movie. Half the women I know are hooked to the twilight saga or true blood, the most happening series on television courtesy HBO. I am sure Stephanie Meyers and Alan Ball must be having a ‘ball ‘of a time looking at their sky rocketing bank balances that makes them richer than New York’s ‘mayor’{pun very much intended}….
Well that half of the population I mentioned earlier includes me and quoting the Jonas Brothers if I may do so ‘don’t charge me for the crime’. The funny part is we are searching for someone who has a sliver of the qualities Edward Cullen or Bill Compton has. The thing that's even funnier is that it really doesn’t matter to us whether they're named Edward, Bill, Eric or Frank Hardy or Ramu Kaka. If they are a vampire and a good one at that, well they fit the bill. No wonder we can’t find anyone like that because some how it slips off our minds like an ill fitted wig from a sweaty baldy’s head that these dream characters are frigging vampires. So for the life of me I can’t understand why we look out for a human. Oh well!, maybe until we do find a some what second hand human substitute we should indulge ourselves with mere drooling over twilight and true blood. . .....
Ughhhhhhhhhhhh see cute vampires do that to you. You feel like you’re a bloody housefly caught in a platinum spider web…… and it would be a bonus if spidey {as in Spiderman} comes along to save the day… Sorry for the overdose of inhuman/superhero movie/novel characters……….
Well until Edward, Bill or Spidey {and not a random sidey} comes along…………..
Yours stuck in the Romantic- Sci-Fi- Supernatural -Heroes zone
Falak
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