Remember when...You said this to me...

"You need him. I could be him...

I could be an accident but I'm still trying.

That's more than I can say for him.

Where is your boy tonight?

I hope he is a gentleman.

Maybe he won't find out what I know: you were the last good thing..."

Well he's right here tonight...I'm curled up like a kitten at his feet

my head in his lap, I'm half asleep

and he says to me....my wife is a hottie

through the sleepy haze I realize his wife

is me.

While You were Gone...I...

• ... stepped outside and enjoyed being alone for the first time
• ...let another boy pick me up, buy me dinner, laugh at my jokes and drop me home
• ...missed you, but only a little
• ... figured out why chose the way I did
• ... learnt to eat salad and enjoyed it
• ... lost a few pounds
• ... stopped listening to that band
• ... died a little inside

Angst of the elite: The new anti-terror weapon?
Gaurav Kalra

(www.ibnlive.com)

Watching a captain of industry in a television studio on Saturday night find higher decibels in his voice than he probably did when his net worth declined in the recent financial crisis would have been mildly amusing had the circumstances not been as tragic.

With not a crease out of place in his well cut and possibly outrageously expensive outfit; this gentleman implored government to act against terror. Accusing them of failing him and of course "his" country. Populism, I always thought was the preserve of our politicians, but perhaps in these times it is understandable if it seeps into the core of all public discourse.

When the dust settles and after more ministers are sacked, we will hopefully reflect on this angst that appears to have sneaked into our collective bones and is finding voice in our response to Mumbai.

But I wonder if this angst is finding leadership on the right shoulders? Elite India has for the first time been shaken out of its slumber as terror has attacked what were so far its impenetrable citadels.

The Taj Mahal hotel was insulated before that fateful Wednesday night from all that was wrong with India. It is here while sipping on over priced coffee or gorging on grotesquely expensive stir fry noodles that corporate honchos ridiculed the real India; an India they were squeamish to be part of. Fake sympathy for terror victims in Delhi or Ahmedababad or Bangalore mixed well with the cocktails in the secure environs of the Taj and the Oberoi. It is here that the mafia of new age cricket struck its big ticket deals, here that film producers with suitcases full of cash lured overpaid actors to act appear in their soulless films.

Suddenly, those buildings where the soothing sound of a distant piano provided the comforting solace of security; have become battlegrounds. Guns were meant to go off elsewhere, weren't they? In busy market-places or railway stations that stench anyway. So no wonder the elite are enraged. Suddenly terrorism isn't just a dinner table conversation.

Instead, it has them by the balls and is making them scream. Shobha De says enough is enough. Well Miss De enough; was enough long before the peace of South Mumbai as shattered. It was enough when bombs went off in hospitals in Ahmedabad, it was enough when in busy markets in Delhi, Diwali shopping turned into a gory dance of death.

You can sense that terror has moved on from attacking familiar victims: The rickshaw pullers, the daily wage earners, the commuter on a local train; even the middle class executive. Those deaths no longer matter, no longer grab headlines, are no longer enough to get home ministers sacked.

Instead, terror has a new target: Prosperity. Stark as it may sound, those who have escaped its wrath so far are now its direct targets. And they know it...and can see it clear as day.

Where was this elitist angst when a brave bus conductor lost his eyes saving others in Delhi? Or those who have had their legs amputated after the blasts in Ahmedabad? Did elite India find the shrillness in their voices to demand what they are asking for now? Was a fund set-up to support government in fighting terror?

Maybe the big corporates could have taxed their own profits and offered to help the police force get better weapons? I dare say Messer's Tata and Oberoi have deep enough pockets to restore their hotels to glory, but some around this devastated country are still picking up brutally broken pieces and will never succeed.

Mumbai has a strange message for you and me; we who live in the real world. And rarely enjoy the delights of places such as the Taj.

We are now ironically a lot safer, because we are irrelevant in this war. Our blood means little. The new targets are the hypocrites who throw the toys out of the cot only when their own cot is rattling.

Now it is this hollering that can make the wheels of change turn. Sometimes it has to hurt where it really does. The angst of the elite is our greatest ally in the fight to save our country, not some pointless candles that flicker away meaninglessly.

Bombay is in recovery and I am still reeling with disbelief,

I swim at a 4/5star, the cop at the gate apologetically checked my bag,

"babie karna padta hai" he said, oh by all means check away I said...

while at the pool a cracker went off, we all stopped everyone in and out of the pool and looked around half expecting gun weilding terrorists to come running out of the hotel, I took a deep breath and ducked underwater...wondered how long I'd be able to stay under and out of sight if they did come running out...

We don't ever anticipate a thing like this, we can't say our authorities weren't prepared, they like us never did envision such a audacious attack, It could've been any of us he said, I agreed, was it 2? or maybe 3 weeks agao we were at leopold upstairs drinking orange breezers because it reminded us of "goldspot" that we used to drink as kids and never quite got over :) (mirinda, fanta YUCK!)

it could've been us,

Was it prior to that? a couple of weekends before? that we stumbled into the taj for a relaxing cup of cammomile tea, as I was feeling unwell, the staff replenished my cup almost like magic...

it could've been us,

Was it last weekend where we debated whether it was going to be Bades or indigo, settling on Indigo deli and walking to the car a stones throw from the taj....

it could've been us,

But it wasn't....it wasn't our time....but who can say it was theirs?

snatched shot down on dinner dates and birthdays or on one's way home.....

I don't want to bounce back or be resilient

I don't want to have to be resilient.....

DO we know the reasons for this attack?

Do they?

I bet if you asked them their cause they wouldn't know either....

Are you Strong enough to be My MAN?

I am clawed fingers moving across a blackboard

I am the honking at a traffic light when it just turned green and your engine won't start.

I'm the kid in the emperors new clothes

I'm the run in your minds panty hose

I'm the last wet match when you're craving your smoke

I'm the only person who gets your jokes

I'm the one who calls you on it

I'm the elephant in the room

I'm soothing balm for wounds of life

And I'm going to be your wife.

OOPS I DID IT AGAIN

So my good friend A-dick (prounounced ae dick), post MBA exams freed up enough time for a coffee
He sandwiched me between lunch with returned-from-Amreeka-mum and evening with friend who-had-to-show-off-basoon-playing-boyfriend at dress up concert....so there I was escaping the sunday afternoon sun by waiting for a table and A-dick in the cool confines of georgia gold, while waiting I happened to chat with a boy who was also waiting for his coffee, and he sat down at my table to wait for A-dick, and when A, arrived I stood up to greet him and my bag (permanently open!) heaved off my lap, and something fell out But I didn't see it and then the nice boy said something fell out and I look around and say well I can't see anything on the floor what was it? and A-dick is grinning and the flustered nice boy is saying I don't know what fell but something fell he insists, then says a hurried goodbye and walks off, leaving me puzzled and A-dick is still grinning, "what?!!??" I ask him "what is it??" he leans over and says "your pad fell out of your bag and slid under your chair"
I look under the chair and horror of horrors there wrapped in its green glory is my whisper ultra maxi fresh pad
I giggle hysterically with A-dick who goes on to buy me green tea to compensate for any possible embarassment

“You can motivate by fear. And you can motivate by reward. But both of these methods are only temporary. The only lasting thing is self-motivation.”
Homer Rice quotes

When discussing the topic on managers motivating he said:
there are only two reasons why you should come to work,
a. you love what you do
b. what you do puts food on your table.

But is it really true that we do not need to be motivated externally in our organizations?
is a salary enough to sour us on?
and if not what are the reasons for all the motivational practices going around?
Well I'm a big believer in self motivation, but I also acknowledge the fact that people need a push,
(I hear him voiceferously disagreeing)
lets look at why...
In Social Psychology we talk of behaviour of people in groups
One thing that strikes me about working in large groups or teams is the anonymity factor or the deindividuating factor, you're not just an individual you are part of the team, emphasis on ideas such as team building and team work, has a flip side, you fuse your dentity with that of the group or team, once this happens the psychological processes that occur in groups start to kick in.
One is the feeling of deindividuation, Two is diffusion of responsibility: as the size of a group increases the responsibility of each member in that group working on an assigned is diffused and therefore psychologically decreases, even though in reality each member is still as responsible as the next, the problem is each individual doesn't perceive it to be that way.
What happens next is...if you don't think you're responsible, you act in less productive ways, the result of this is multiplied across every member of the group reducing productivity drastically.....so how do you keep productivity up in groups? well you single out members (each one of them) and ,motivate, you're individuating members, this is akin to pointing to some one in a crowd and saying you in the black jacket good job, immediately the person feels the weight of their responsibility and productivity increases....hence motivating eachone individually raises group productivity, as it counters both deindividuation and diffusion of responsibility (the two natural psychological occurences in groups)
And this is why i would advocate motivation in teams....

How We Hurt Eachother.

I'm open,
arms thrown wide, open.
heart on my sleeve, open.
bare all dare all, open.
And by virtue of being o-p-e-n anything can get through to me
like piercing words carelessly dropped from lips perhaps unintended to do such harm but indeed hram has been done, I thought I was over it, but in my dreams I woke up to find I was not, and like a snowball rolling down an alpine slope, your words tumbled harsher than ever threathening to crush me with the weight of their hurt, and I'm afraid I'll be too broken for you to pick up the pieces, for you who has direct acess, take care,
there's no cure for a shattered heart.

For more dentist posts click here.

Krash said "nothing's eternal: first kiss, first love, second love, money, school, heavy metal, chachu's omlete pav, gajju bhai's chai tapri, garden bar, street bar, building compound bar, under-construction building bar, daaku and the jugaad company, bandya's chechu, vikas's girly voice, Tani's first cry, mangroves - once home to thousands of migratory birds, now called charkop, torn jeans, painted jeans, painted bags, painted t-shirts, long hair, school friends, college friends, area friends, friends' friends, girl friends, noni, danny mc gill, tasmin archer, Ovi's hugs..."

Chris said: "osho chappals, sling bags, kwality ice cream in a plastic ball, gold-spot, campa cola, poppins, giant robot, singh's corner dhaba, trams, russell, innocence, honey gola, kulfi on a stick, flamingo, cielo's, ifb-washing machines, old friends, ignorance, champak, glo-friends, backpacks, sneakers,the BMC smoke men,...all gone now..."

Funny said:" sunday cricket,headbangers ball,fireball xl 5, parikrama, 75p bus tickets, nirvana(even tho over rated), speed racer, thundercats,V,bob the panwala,first drink, first joint, first crush, sister carmen mary...gone, krash/chris, but not quite forgotten."

This sucks
I've just realized I cannot keep eating and drinking whatever I want
and that sucks.
I think I just got it, that exercise is something i need to incorporate into my daily life or else i will end up with a body I hate even more than the one i'm in now!
and that sucks.
When your wedding dress is gorgeous, accomodates your chest fits around your waist skims down hiding your child bearing hips
and then f&#*S up by giving you cleavage......ON YOUR BACK
Now that really sucks.
How do you shrink your back?
suggestions please....

"PAIN can't get enough....rather feel pain than nothing at all"
Would you agree that dental pain is second only to childbirth?
and that dentists are socially sanctioned torturers? they are also socially sanctioned extortionists, that charge humongous sums of money to fill up tiny holes while inflicting much distress and discomfort, which as is its nature, will then deteriorate after a few years and the cycle begins again
much like the BMC and their road work if you come to think of it...
Absolutely phobic in terms of dental ache I have been an avoidant bunny, hopping as far away from my dentist as possible, leading to complete destruction of teeth and bank account as well.
Looking at the bill the receptionist handed to me I said to my dentist
"you must know my parents aren't paying for this"
"good good"he said "independent girl"
"yes independent and now very poor girl" I replied he laughed
so i said "if you continue to charge me like this I will be on the streets"
"I'll be the beggar with the best teeth on the street"

Loving me Loving you
loving me is hard and I make it harder
is love like trust earned?
tom robbins compared love to an "outlaw"
like an outlaw, love lives by no rules
so words like "safety", "security"well they do not exist in love
to love me is to feel unstable
to love me is to worry about the next mess I'm going to make
to love me is to care about the crazy kids I talk to
to love me is to love my nani
to love me is to put up with my mother
to understand my father
to forgive my friends
to be interested in my work with women
to love me is to ignore the many boys who will chat me upask me for my number (in front of you) or send a drink to our table
to love me is to frequently want to beat up people who hurt me but yet show restraint
to love me is to lie in the dark and comfort me dry my tears with little butterfly kisses and rock me to sleep
to love me is to know which night I don't want to talk but let my tongue to the talking
to love me is to have high “whine tolerance”
loving me is hard and I make it no easier
when I second guess youto love me is to make sure
you can say I love you

Say No to Violence Against Women

An excerpt....



"you never write about me", he says strumming softly on his guitar

I look up from my book, "what?" my voice betrays my slight irritation

"yeah" he says "why don't you write about me"

"oh so now you want me to write about you?" I ask

"well you write about everyone else" he says

he sounds petulant, like a child who feels denied

"what do you want me to say?"

now he looks irritated, "oh you mean there's nothing you can write about?"

"I never said that" i retort, defensively

"i was just giving you choice of what you would like me to write about"

his eyes relent, "well anything, write about that time at the beach"

"the jelly fish incident" I say smiling

"No way! that reeks of a FRIENDS episode"

he ponders for a bit

I'm amused he must really want this

"talk of how we met" he said

"how we met?" I repeat smiling

he nods strumming softly again, the tune we both loved

I hum along and return to my reading

"so you will write?"

I smile

yes I say I will write

and I did

THE PERFECT WAY TO CUT YOURSELF
An excerpt----->
He always wore long sleeves,
I found myself wondering what his arms looked like,
always, always a puzzle,
I wondered what was up his sleeve
a few days later when he took my hand in his,
I turned his palm over looking for answers in the map-work of lines
As I slid back the cotton cuff and I remember thinking
his wrists are way too thin for a boy this big,
there uncovered lay his veins and a white-ish scar running perpendicularly, like he'd crossed a T,
I looked up at eyes filled with vulnerability
and asked"battle scars?", "me against myself" said he
"you did it wrong", I said "vertical not horizontally"
"I do not know what is more scary,
the fact that you recognize what I did
or the fact that you know how to do it correctly"
said he

is there a map for the lost?
is it in the lines on our plam
or the ones we carve on wrists
as we attempt in blood
to re-write our destiny

10,000 visitors to the blog since march 2007


Wow, I didn't really know so many people would read, re-read and want to keep reading about the life of one very regular girl (I deliberately avoid ordinary, regular yes, ordinary no)


When I started to write in 2002 blogs were just emerging on the Indian scene, people had so many mixed reviews, he still can't imagine why someone would want to "put it out there" , the earliest posts are so silly they're sweet, when i re-visit my archives I see a growing me reflected in the writing, an evolution as such of a girl, a sub-altern view, a personal history, much more than just a diary, I have to admit that

What started off as a space, to vent

Quickly became a tool to evoke, annoy and amplify Sentiment

They say Love is friendship on fire :)
and I must say it's getting hot in here :)

I have to take an additional dose of dietary fibre everynight
so I have a constant suppy, I ran out the day before
and was supposed to stop off at the chemist to replenish my stock last night
however we were dining with my cousin and I forgot.
On the ride home he talked of his early morning appointment
and how he was glad we were making it an early night
he dropped me off and drove off when I realised I'd forgotten
to go to the day-n-night chemist and pick up my stuff
"oh no forgot to buy fibre that's 2 days in a row"
I said in my good night text to him
I undressed and lay on the couch to watch sex and the city
when about 20 mins later my phone rang
it was him, come down stairs he said
what's the matter I said racing down celllphone in hand
out of the lowered glass he held in his hands
the box of my meds
I was over whelmed grabbing open the door
I slid onto the passenger seat on my knees and planted a kiss on his cheek
I love you
&
you love me
you L-O-V-E me
and what's even more important you show me
everyday why it's you I am marrying....

And I know you're shining down on me from heaven, like so many friends we;ve lost along the way....

Last night I dreamt of her again, I was surprised to find her perched upon the table beneath the stairs below the cupboard shaped like a qudrilateral and rightly called so. Surprise is not the only feeling guilt is also there (still there), guilt about forgetting, guilt over her neglect, where have you been babie I say, and stroke her head, her back, as I instinctively feel with my finger tips for ticks. There they are, the bane of our existence (mine and hers) fat and grey-green like bullets I dare not pull them out as blood will ooze and cause sores that might fester and lie like open invitations to maggots my worse nightmare.
There they are dotting her ears like ear studs, I grab a pair of siscors and snip them three quaters of the way down holding on to their fat blood filled bodies with a thick wad of news paper so that her blood is not on my hands, but it is...
I should've been there for her, not spent the entire summer sunning myself on a beach and dangling my feet over the edge of the docks watching pretty boats and dreaming that I owned one...
I snip at the ticks with a vengence, this way their heads still buried in her skin will just fall off later like scabs.
and rock her smelling her doggy smell, the hints of no-tick shampoo and powder, she's wearing dad's old red t-shirt which I've forced on to her. her paws sticking out of the sleeves, looking at me with her large brown eyes, , she shows no malice no hurt, she continues to lie in my arms and snuggles closer, she still loves me, and I wake up to tears of relief....I feel forgiven!

A 1000 miles seems very far but we've got planes and trains and cars.....

Me: 5 Spice is now open in lokhandwala and has taken away my only reason for meeting you in bandra.
he: we'll just have to go to TOTO's then
Me: Oh so now you're comfortable taking me to TOTO's (giggle)
He: Don't see any other viable option, except Zemzi.
Blech

You came looking for yourself here
came to see, what I had made of my misery
over you leaving. You came to check up on the grieving.
You sounded almost disappointed there was no trace
of my sorrow over losing you to another place.
I've told you,

There are days when I don't think of you
and feel guilty because I forgot to remember
not remembering is chocolate salve for wounds I lick
not remembering is proof to self that I have dealt with it
not remembering is consolation prize, for masking lies

There are days when I mention you and hush up instantly
you are now, he who shall not be named...

and then there are nights,
where we still read in silence and eat pizza
as we sit on your bed
laughing at something you or I had said

A tag ----> From Satish's blog
1. Last movie you saw in a theater?
Righteous Kill
2. What book are you reading?
"eating india"
3. Favorite board game?
"battle ship" "monopoly"
4. Favorite magazine?
erm? i dunno Vogue?
5. Favorite smells?
Givenchy's Hot (haute) Couture
tandoori chicken
6. Favorite sounds?
alternative rock
7. Worst feeling in the world?
betrayal
8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
currently: blue book and stepper
9. Favorite fast food place?
food court at Infinity
10. Future child’s name?
alexandra
11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….?
travel a lot more
12. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
only when he's eaten a lot ;)
13. Storms - cool or scary?
cool
14. Favorite drink?
caprioshkas
15. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”?
still end up needing more time
16. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
nope
17. If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?
black
18. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in?
Bombay----> why would I move?
19. Favorite sports to watch?
swimming (I once watched a live IPL match)
20. What’s under your bed?
desk, I have a bunk
21. Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Oh YES!
22. Morning person, or night owl?
both
23. Over easy, or sunny side up?
none
24. Favorite place to relax?
by the ocean
25. Favorite pie?
apple
26. Favorite ice cream flavor?
caramel & strawberry

"Ladies, listen. When Manolo dies, there will be no more Manolos. There is no heir or protégé. No big luxury goods conglomerate like LVMH waiting in the wings. No. No. No. When Blahnik has gone to that great shoe box in the sky, Manolos are finished. Done. Not for Manolo Blahnik a label without the real person behind it. Not like Christian Dior (died in 1957), Coco Chanel (1971), or Roger Vivier (1998), labels that survive under the aegis of others."Ferragamo insisted style was not enough; shoes must be comfortable. And Blahnik? What about complaints that his shoes are torture? "I haven't heard that," he responds. "Women tell me they love my shoes. Some never take them off."But isn't a shoe really a corset for the foot?"Yes. But a corset you adore."read all about it here.....http://www7.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0609/feature2/online_extra01.html

My old friend TLOB inspired this post by what he says in his blog....

Everyone knows I'm in Over my head Over my head

He talked about how much he wanted to see of his parents in him and this is a constant fear of mine, don't get me wrong I love my parents and I am so much of who I am because of them, but my fear is that we're always creating ideas of ourselves from the people we've imbibed the most,i.e Parents (Freud deterministically condemned us to being fully formed by age 5) even when we don't realise we've imbibed them they lie beneath the surface, blue prints, scaffolding, default settings, that come to the fore in the absence of independent thought.

Now all that would be fine and dandy, but the ideas we swallow and accept as our own, do not get digested because they're not our own....we spit them out when we think they're what we should say/do/think but their after taste lingers, with the burning sensation at the back of our throats, inauthentic and not us. To truly be ourselves ideas and opinions borrowed from parents have to be chewed up made our own before we can live them....I was lucky my parents encouraged me to think for myself and never thrust their ideas on me, and when their views seemed to impose, college taught me how to counter those as well. I was always part of the (democratic) decision making process at home, which taught me about power and choices and the responsibility that follows from those.

But what of People who never thought about things, pondered the ways things are or questioned the powers that be? Well unfortunately those are the people most susceptible and suggestible and living lives engineered by their parents rather than navigated by themselves.

I worry I could turn into one of those people who fall back on their default drives spewing spurious arguments misplaced in time and context, glossed over by rationalization coming out as if it were their own with the tell tale signs of lines like"it's always been like this" or "this is how it used to be"

Now at this stage in my life where i swear allegiance to two very different families I worry about what my children will imbibe....

Of going along and falling by the wayside......

All happy happy joy joy, or so it would seem
correct?
correct?
I mean everythings fine right?
corect?
correct?
are we coasting along nice and smooth
yes.
are we enjoying ourselves?
yes
so what's the problem then?
erm maybe its not all fine
why?
i don't know why
how come
perhaps I just don't want to think about it
there is so little time left to clear the cobwebs that hang over things about you and me, so little time to discuss discover and see, so little time for us these days it scares me. us is always more than two, and it's never just me and you, what if this is prelude of things to come? can i live like this?
and if the answer is No
what will you do about it?
for that matter what will I do?
and why am I always the one who points at the elephant in the room
like the annoying child in the emperor's new clothes
like l'enfant qui l'avenir la lune

They say the time has passed for many things,
to talk of love and what it brings, of what will be and what if not
for all doubts now, be best forgot,
the elephant in the room is best ignored,
get a hobby if you're bored
The time has come to talk of things
like veils and gloves , tiaras and rings,
of photo ops, and flower pots
of other wedding things....

And so we sheepishly return and attempt to continue with our blog

Erm, so what if blogger was barred at work, so what if the net connection ran out at home and you were too lazy to post, so what if the wi fi you were stealing didn't allow up,loads...posts should've continued unabated...

apart form the above accusations (implied excuses) I have no excuse for not writing enough. He says I am angst-less (he should know) I say I'm hesitant...and trying not to offend by my "(self)disclosure", not everyone likes to "talk about it" not everyone is able to type out their lives in trebuchet size 12, and now that I'm aligned and not singular, its not just my needs I have to consider, so in considering his lack of disclosure, I will limit myself to talking about things that related solely to me and not "us", but how can that be? when in being aligned I am "us" and not just "me"
hu*jthgnm<xdfcgvjhbk
Words are spilling past the screening process in my brain, stories pouring out gushing past rushing to be told, to be out there instead of festering inside me, like a zit squeezed its oozing and I can barely contain myself.

So let's start somewhere and give way to some vent :)
My life these days is pretty much forward looking, ceasing to live in the now, its propelled single mindedly towards the approaching wedding date and the post marital details...while enjoying the swift ride down river, (push forwards by currents not in my controll) I can't help but think that I'm going t reach a point where I go over and free fall....oh yes I'll make a big splash and probably float away into the sunshine, but what of jagged rocks that lie beneath the surface, in my awareness but going unnoticed undetected unsolved and not dealt with...
and she said you don't have to take the plunge...she said we can steer clear...I clutched my wedding dress and drew a breath, contemplated my (second)thoughts and deepest fears the ones that prick the lids and bring the tears, the ones that rock the dreams and elicit screams the ones that exaggerate doubts and shut the outs the ones that choke and grieve and never leave and make a mess put me to the test...while I wait for love to give me rest.

Enthusiastic wife...Reluctant Bride....
Far from turning into bridezilla, I find myself shirking all things wedding, much to the horror of close family and friends, today my mother sat me down and asked in hushed cautious tones....are ou sure you're going with the "off the rack" idea for your dress, YES! I said impatiently, she quickly followed it up with, Dad's worried you'll change your mind last minute and you won't have a dress, I'll find somehting I said, and looked back into the book I was reading, and found myself disbelieving the calm in my voice, I mean it is my wedding day, I know I should look stunning and being me, my dress has a lot to live up to, but not one bit of interest? no seeking out numerous bridal magazines no fabric hunts nor dressmaker track downs, nothing!
I surprise myself....even more so when I come back from work and WANT to cook, I defrost, I marinate!

:) don't be such a wife he said, just stop this cooking nonsense and order pizza, he said....

gotta go I said, my prawn chowder needs stiring......

So I return once more to the sporadic posts....
ansgtless but slightly ennui-ed I approach the page with caution
the words will always come, tumble out of my head, bypassing my lips
subvocally whispered to my fingertips instead and up here
The wedding is all anyone can ask me about, and of course how he feels
everyone wonders what happened to the reluctance the averseness, disinclination, unwillingness, the dragging of heels, the stubborn stance, that gave way to this glorious blossoming
of love un fettered by the self protective urge and insecurity's scourge
so here we are 5 months away
and he said why aren't we scared?
i guess there's no fear once walls are down
and souls are bared....

Sure the future’s bright
The future’s a giagantic flash of an atomic kind
Eternal light
you’ll sleep sweet Some night
And when you wake you’ll find
A place where there is no more darkness
Nor hellish dreams or demons of the mind
Someday we’ll meet there in that place
Welcome gladly ties that bind
No more need to seek solace,
In the place with comfort of every kind

un-covered

My love arrives early tomorrow, to see the other half of my life here in kuwait...so I hurry to the salon closeby to make myself look somewhat presentable. The weather hasn't been good at all with dust storms leaving the air thick with a fog of sand. The wind had dropped so i set out wrapping my wet hair in a pretty scarf (which is actually my bikini wrap that I got at M&S earlier this week) in the manner that I see most arab girls wearing it.

The Salon is not far off, its not terribly fancy but always crowded and getting inside is like asking for entry into the pentagon, mostly they're checking if you're the right gender and acceptable race/class...So I knock two little ones in succession tat-tat and the mummied up maid pokes her head out, what she sees is acceptable (of course) so I'm let in, immediately surveyed up and down by the ladies inside, much like somethign under a microscope, my white pants green fitted tee, bklack and white scarf white framed sunglasses white bag and white ballet flats seem to go down well, so thye smile and greet me in arabic, the older woman recognizes me, she sends out a warmer greeting and immediately space in made for me on the couch and offers of coffee follow. i shake my head smile settle down (secretly breathing a sigh of relief) confession: I'm always secretly afraid that I'll face racisim that they'll say they're full that they can't wait on me and I'll be turned out. Of course none of this has actually happened, but I know how they operate with other Indians, they're certainly not welcome, so the fact that i'm treated differently makes me feel worse.

I take off the scarf and wait my turn, soon i'm seated and the stalwart older woman skillfully and painlessly does my eyebrows, sensitive to the fact that my skin is extremely delicate and prone to tearing. She starts on my next and the stuffy woman in the chaur besides me demands a cigarette and a red bull lite when we're interrupted by a knock on the door, the maid pokes her hair around and gasps in the middle of the conversation, now, I don't speak arabic but I surmise that there's a man at the door wanting to come in to fix the phone line, which is what is causing the flurry of activity around me, the 5-6 women get up and start putting on their head scarfs stuffy woman in extremely short dress moves to the next room. Now while this is happening I haven't made the connection that its because of the man at the door (i only do so later) suddenly activity ceases but they atill don't let him in; A few seconds pass and I see that they're looking at me expectantly eyebrows raised et al, i look around clueless, after which one of the ladies in arabic gently urges me to put on my "hijhab" or head scarf which is quietly laying in my lap, so that the man may come in, oh no!! I exclaim i don't wear one, I'm rapidly trying to explain that I walked in with one because of the weather, I only explain coz I don't want to scandalize them with apparent shameless hussy behaviour, eye brows drop ah's of realization are exhaled and everyone relaxes and lets the poor man in, who keeps his eyes to the floor, works the phone and leaves in the same fashion not daring to look up. I am redeemed of my temp shamless hussy status and relax with my hair looking stunning.

During the sex and the city movie...which was all too sad and disappointing(SPOILER WARNING)
When big has his little commitment phobic emotional fuckwit moment and carrie is crushed, I had a moment of my own...how could anyone empathize with Big? I could empathize with carrie but big, what a big fatheaded dumbass, and to think she would forgive him HAI!!!
I just withdrew into myself, couldn't shake off the "do I know anyone at all feeling" that lingered. And when big admitted that their whole initial get married decision was more like a transaction, that's when i missed the proposal most of all....I mean I've never dreamt of a wedding unlike little girls who have their's planned down to the last detail dress flowers table setting and cake....but I always wanted a proposal, and can't believe its not happened to me yet.
Its like a step has been skipped in the natural order...I can't help feeling like I've lost out on something...I mean even big admitted it was due.
So I swallowed whatever I was feeling, and tried to be myself and the catastrophic rain that met us post movie and the danger and excitement of not being able to get home and the unexpected sleepover pushed the thoughts from my head, but when in bed I watched from one end the other curled up fast asleep oblivious, I cried myself to sleep.

So it all came back to me when the snotty sales girl flashed her ring at me, narrating how romantically her proposal had taken place, I smiled and ooohed and ahhhed as well as I could while acknowledging the smarting pang of envy....I mean i have all that i want don't I? then why be envious?

I know I'm on a budget.

I'm trying to get used to it, I guess I have to, part of me knows there will be no more shopping trips as there used to be, I mean not after marriage, at least not untill I tripple my salary :)

Well I've had plenty though they will be sorely missed...I stood in the store and looked wistfully around me, the new line was excellent but I knew what I wanted, skinny jeans in black and a dress, in any colour except black and white, I have way too many pieces in black n white, or so everyone says, I for one think you can never have too many clothes in black n white...But I'll wear colour...I don't mind...so there i was in a store with a line i actually liked and I knew that unlike the days of old, i couldn't just pick up everything I liked...And I was overwhelmed with emotion for a minute as I touched a soft mull white skirt with a navy trim very nautical very in, very unnecessary...And It dawned on me that nothing in the store was something I really absolutely had to buy...and that made me sadder still...who was this stranger rationalizing that she didn't need that gorgeous skirt?

Swimwear, I needed new swimwear...I recovered a little and picked up about 4 pieces i thought I liked and headed off to try them on sighting a hot pink high waisted flared dress in soie, grabbed that as well....nothing in the swim wear made me feel like a Goddess. The dress fit just right.

Oh that dress is lovely said the sales girl...I knew she wasn't just saying that to make a sale I smiled the other l ones looks better she said I know I said but I can only buy one and I need a party dress I said, Ah get both she said they're lovely, sigh I know, but I'm shopping with a wedding in mind. Ah you're getting married ? she says and before I can say oh not me, i realize yes I am...me too she says and outs her hand forward to flash me her ring, its gorgeous I say, and it is platimun with a single solitaire surrounded by tiny diamonds...my friend A steps out of the changing room gaping

found the skinny jeans got a sexy skirt on sale, hairbands and a wrap and suddenly my spirits soared I had bags, the void was full and when he picked my bags for me off the counter grinning I felt like myself again...so sweet I said and he bristled leaving the bags, ok ok here hold them i said...noting that his earlobes looked very nibbleable...

Well so we're back...in a sort of "back to the island" way

It has been so long and I had to make the blog by invitation only, as a few un-invited people were reading and dropping hints about the blog, then I said hey what the heck, there's nothing I percieve as damaging on here, its a chronicle of my days, my ways and plays, my phase, my scene, my hopes, dreams and nightmares, my little frets and cares, bets and dares, loves and hates and shopping escapades, trips and slips and all the rest. This blog is like the home for my sensibilities, my mouth piece and to shut it off was like cutting off a part of me, and parting from it has been like parting from a good ol'friend.

So we're back, and we're home again. closeted away because of dust storms. Wedding prep has begun and I must say I'm quite sick of it actually. What with the dressmaker saying "You're the bride?!!!??"

I guess I am....

Finding myself with this new label has been like putting on a new pair of jeans on a sweaty summers day, younnoh what I mean, its like you love it and you've got it, and you're dying to put it on, but there just a little challenge pulling it up your thighs, it doesn't fit right away and has to be broken in slowly.

So I wear it, strech it out a bit, and I don't take it off, I know it will soon be part of me :)

Nightmares and dreamscapes
Last night my deepest fears revisited me.
Magnified in my dreamscape, hightened to nightmarish proportions
I shivered beneath the covers. The voices in my head, ones that I thought were laid to rest whispered noisly, words and actions combined to paint patterens and present pictures I didn't want to see, I struggled to tap into the rational secure part o me, failing miserably.
we sat on the porch and stared at the sea we looked at clouds rushing by as you said to me, look its the monsoon building up, and above me dark clouds gazed down almost meancingly, piling up againt the sky like water skins that were looking for an excuse to shed their content. It cant rain I said not now I said and you shook your head saying it was inevitable and I was filled with a sense of doom as I willed myself back into the waking world, for sleep had lost its sense of comfort.

"All the things she said all the things she said running thru my head...."
And today I am reminded of this....
" Dearest,Being as expressive as we are, I think we're always a little in love with words...in a sense communication's our canvas and words our paint, whatever be the medium...conversation or mail (or blogs or little fancy note paper)...we colour our world with the things we say (or hear), so its easy to get caught up in the brush strokes of a wordsmith... art-iculate and colourful...I say "caught" coz there's always a catch...a trap, with verbal bait of sorts...it starts off innocently enough, just communication, yet suddenly amdist the quips and the banter and clever retorts, the swirling colours of language we exchange...suddenly we're making love with words...There will always be someone out there who SPEAKS to you...but always remember the someone right beside you, who speaks to you with more than just words...be careful my sweet and beware of the word art out there..."

When the urge to shop wanes......(And other tragedies...)
Zara- 12:00 pm: None of the dresses fit my shape, I curse the child bearing hips I have
and tell my tummy to lie flat, it pretends not to hear me and the ice cream of the pervious days keeps talking out loud.
Promod- 1:00 pm: 6 dresses later I agree publicly that egg is a ridiculous shape and "does nothing for me" The only dress I like a black and white, I can already hear my mother yelling that I have no other colours I whine to the sales guy he reserves it for me.
Mango- 2:00 pm: 3 dresses and I make the sales understand the full effect of cognitive dissonance. The girl outside says its hot and urges me to buy it. I suspect the sales person has put her up to it....he dangles a brown belt at me, its like crack to a recovering addict.
I stay strong and mumur I love mango despite everything....
I'm feeling physically ill as we walk to H& M for the marimekko showing....I mean if its good for Jackie O Its good enuff for moi I finally buy a dress....3:30 pm Mum's frantic she worries an errant taxi man has driven off with me....Allyson reassures her we're having dress trouble and a long explantion of big hip to chest ratios coupled with unsuitable trends of the season ensues...while I meekly follow her to M& S at mum's behest.
M & S-4:15 pm: I'm moved to tears.... the white cotton lace dress is too big
and the starting size is 8!!! (us 6) for a nano second I wish I were fatter or that my boobs were bigger. I try swim wear and immediately wish them small again....I hate to say I am not looking forward to the next shopping day!!!

End-in-sight

And before it’s all empty talk
Hollow smiles words waste away
Let me tell you I couldn’t help it
And I regret it to this day.

It’s never enough to say sorry
And always too little too late
Would you believe, I didn’t mean it
Would you believe Its not me to implicate

Can’t bear to talk about it
It hurts too much to think
Am I on auto pilot?
Ticking time-bomb on the brink

Just like me if you surrendered to needs
Surrendered to the voices in your head
What if it were just one call away
You decided to leave instead

Should I walk away in silence
watch while it all falls down
Forget all I ever believed in?
keep the losses I have found?

When will it all spill over?
if you won't call me on it, I just might
Can you feel the darkness closing in?
Is this my end insight?

Other people's lives

I caught myself looking at a facebook profile of a person I didn't really know, reading through likes and dislikes goolging things I found interesting, looking at pictures in their albumns of je ne sais quoi I was over come with a sudden sense of unease....i'm not doing anything wrong said self to self....I'm allowed....I mean they added me....they've invited me into their life....yet it sill felt like snooping....I mean what am I to do? ask people to put me on limited profile?

and then there was...ONE

ahem, darkness my old friend,

where art thou when day

has flooded the place you used to lay your head

heavy upon my breasts

and seeped slowly into my skin

like you were touching me from deep within

ah yes darkness,what place will you lurk in?

what form will you take?

she whispers,watch out for shadows

when you wake,

when day breaks.....

"if some one said three years from now..."

Well I didn't even notice that the number of readers had crossed 8000. I started to write a blog 5 years ago, it was supposed to be an online journal a chronicle of sorts, a place to vent, to comment....Quickly became a tool to evoke, annoy and amplify Sentiment.

I've tried to stay true to my original plot but so many people are made unhappy by this blog, so many people see pit falls and dangers of having it of continuing it and yet I keep writing keep posting...what do I see here? a legacy? some sort ofsub-altern view a narsissictic personal history of histrionic me?

He talked about blogs as more than just accounts of parties we'd been to, he talked of blogs as a vehicle of change, voice of dissent touching lives, reaching everyone with access to the internet... They've got to be more chris he said...and his words are echoing in my head as I type this now....what did this page offer all those who passed by here? a voyeuristic view of other's lives and loves? vocarious living? my blog is hardly the titilating testament of eM just confessions of a hramless kind....a dear diary manifestation of my life my world my mind

& all I know is

You got to give me everything& nothing less cause

You know I give you all of me

I give you everything that I am

I'm handin' over everything that I've got

Cause I wanna have a really true love

Don't ever wanna have to go & give you up

Stay up till Four In The Morning & the tears are pouring

& I want to make it worth the fight

What have we been doing for all this time?

Baby if we're gonna do it, come on do it right

I can't explain the sporadic posting, though he has a theory...

your blog is a way to vent angst

now I've taken away your reason for it, he says rather smugly

I smile, for in the begining there was the angst

and the angst was within me

and the angst was me

just got focussed on one or another

as voids were filled more opened up

like lessions on the skin

so where do I begin to explain?

when every new begining comes from some other begining's end?

and endings were not meant for me

but permanent postponning of the inevitable

my position is far from enviable

but still they do

knowing not what's true

still always beneath the mask there's a lot to conceal

a lot i'm "not supposed to feel"

and while the papers spluttered like spores

and the remote hit the floor

I felt like I was outside looking at the girl

who's sweep of hand caused so much panic in one always self assured

shades of grey must be abhorrent in a black and white world

so what becomes of me?

this colourful girl?

"Utopia this is my utopia this is my ideal my ultimate...."

Its like breathing in after running up the stairs
younnoh.....when you pause on the landing before you head off to where you were running to in the first place.....or in an under water cave when you float up to its rocky surface and gulp at an air pocket before you dive away into the darkness....
That's where I am right now pausing to take a breath....there's so much to be done and so much to be said and as layers get peeled back, and things get "taken care of" I worry about shades I see...differences have always been celebrated in my family, oh how lucky I feel to be born where I was, born into diversity, a happy melange of personality types, differences are good...or at least that's what I was raised to believe, when I was neck deep into my counselling course, we did a component on democratic decision making, a tool for families in trouble especially those with authoritarian patriarchs to allow for other members to voice opinions and improve quality of life, and reading the cases I couldn't relate....in my family wisdom was not equated with age nor respect, I was always included in decision making whether it was picking the meal for sunday, what color we'd paint our walls, or saying prayers as "head of the family" for Easter.
A label I'm wholly uncomfortable with because for me the essence of the family is one sans a heirachy there is no power struggle therefore no need for hierarchies.
So what does a family mean to me?
Ideally,Family is unconditional acceptance, especially your biological family you are born into it...but then what of families you marry into? I guess if you consider them family then you unconditionally accept who they are.
My utopia: Unity in spite of diversity. Because of my appreciation of differences I often find unity is sometimes enhanced by diversity.
family is that place where we can be at home. We can loosen our tie, kick off our shoes and relax. "Out there" is the struggle for position and power and money. "Out there" is the world of hypocrisy I want to take the mask off at home....notput on another one all over again...For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, Bad marriages, failed businesses, careless destruction of property or life - all these are family matters we deal with them with the spirit of acceptance and mutuality because we know we're part of one entity and we need to be aware of how we impact one another.
Lastly family is empowerment. Its not about who has the power or who is head of the family its about empowering....It is not only a place to go home to, it's a place to come from, out into the world ready to face it....a safe space, a place of support....a place where I can be me....
And I hope and pray that I can continue to express the essence of family in my new family

Last night I lost my head And fell right back into your love I lay intoxicated While angels circled high above

A change cometh my pretties....

So we did it last night, told all our friends, it felt so surreal, I was supposed to be celebrating something else....but we tosted to wedding bells and bedding well....Its just begining to sink in....hasn't really gotten thru waiting for the parents to put things in perspective....how is life as a wife? who can define it? what will happen then to disquiet and discontent?

He told me right at the start no blogging about our marriage....ooops am I already tramsgressing that one? The blog turns six in august....perhaps Its time to put it to sleep?

in other news

life is short eat the dessert first...

call me chrisilla queen of the dessert, since i am dessert crazy , this afternoon during our lovely long late lunch while I was waiting for my entree (char grilled olive shrim with gra;ic herb butter on mushroom risotto) I went up to the dessert counter and got us a dark chocolate tiramisu and we ate it before the food came :P

"The hills are alive with the sound of music...."
I love south indians they're so polite I got a good dose of southern hospitality on my way to Kodai from coimbatore 5-6 hours of driving with our oh so gracious driver we stopped off at pallani for lunch served on banana leaves

in a hotel with dining areas designated according to socioeconomic status when we got there the ac room was full, being team-leader I was watching the watch and after a quick conference with the rest suggested we eat in the outer dining hall instead of waiting for the ac area to clear up, but was refused a table in the outter area, you eat in ac said the man, shaking his head and hands at me, its ok we said we don't mind but he wouldn't seat us...how do people know where to sit asked a friend once i narrated this incident in bombay, well I guess they just know, its the order of thigns, gone is the caste system from the modern mind but here is a new kind of system class not caste and everyone knows her/his place, the driver didn't sit in with us, nor did he sit in the outer room, he joined other driver in a little back room, the prices and seating also differ, it seemed rather cruel to me, but no one else seemed to be bothered by it, families came in and automaticaly knew their place....such is the order of some things......but the food was soooooooooo good, and I was soooooo happy.....we started off immediately heading towards the hills the route was gorgeous we took the rural route through villages, good wide roads treelined on either side, with tamrind, loaded with tamrind I couldn't resist and incited the rest who greedily agreed to stop and grab some....

next thign we know we're surrounded by these kids who loved the camera so we traded biscuits and pics for tamrind, unfortunately they were not ripe yet but grabbing them by the bunchfulls was fun enough....after the quick stop we started our ascent....navigating the hair pin bends with experienced skill, our driver kept checking back and looking at me, eyes on the road sureh i said, what's the matter, madam tell me stopping for vomits, we died laughing at that one...but as the curves got sharper, the scenery was not enough to distract some of my team mates, who prefered to cover their faes with scarfs shut their eyes and moan get us up there already....here's us just before entering the twon area.... this time the scenery was enough and everyone had cheered up...
soon after we arrived in kodai, but light was fading fast and knowing that the days ahead would restrict our movements and there'd be no time for sightseeing we made a spontaneous decision to go boating on the lake before we even reached our hotel to chekc in, so witht he driver waiting in the van with our bags we grabbed paper cups of masala chai and got onto a boat to see the lake....well we had a great time we were looked after well and cdidn't really want to leave....lovely lovely weather.....would love to go back and see more of the place....so there's where I've been and now you know why I haven't posted in forever...

I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to I don't want to be your motherI didn't carry you in my womb for nine months....
Just like when we're born we have a genetic coding
that unfolds throughout the lifespan
our interactions with our family form our social blue print
the building blocks on which our "self", is structured
whatever interactions we have with our primary love objects therefore
lay the style or pattern of interaction we try and fit future love objects into...
So how do we dot his and how does it endanger us?
Well...We cannot actually go around asking others
to fit into or conform to our internal family drama.
Instead, we learn to manipulate and distort others
so they appear to conform to the blueprint we have
for establishing and maintaining relationships we learned
as children in our families.
Now please note that the other person whom we are distorting
is also manipulating and distorting us
to conform to his/her internal( family based) template.

No better example of this process and when we "fall in love."

Falling in love is the distortion of the other

to conform to your internal image of an ideal mate.

This ideal mate is based on your deepest relational needs,

which in turn are based on your internalized family drama.

At any given point there are three states of affect

directed towards the love object:

Attachment, Frustration & Rejection

The tricky bit is all these three are interdependent

so if you have one state you have all three

Hence any object we've identified with

will produce all three states of affect within us.

So you're attached to him, but he will frustrate you at times

and you will reject or feel rejected by him (or her)

Friends who point out the less attractive qualities of your boyfriend/husband

(of which you are in denial), (sometimes they highlight good qualities)

often surface your distortion process.

Perhaps they're seeing what you refuse to see...

However, mostly love prevails and you end up in a marriage

(of course that's why love is called blind)

or other form of committed relationship with a person you've distorted.

Keep in mind, the other person has engaged

in a similar process of distorting you

to conform to his/her internalized ideal mate.

Then, perhaps three years later,

you wake up one morning and realize

that you have no idea who the person lying next to you really is.

This is a critical point in the relationship.

You and your partner now have to decide

whether to invest the time and energy

into breaking through the distortions

and truly discovering the other

or to go your separate unhappy

Most of this is outside conscious awareness,
which makes it all the more powerful and difficult to resolve.
This constant distorting of the other
leads to relationships that are inherently problematic
in that we really do not understand the other
and we are unable to express our true psychological needs
since exposing those needs and vulnerabilities
would erode the manipulative pattern
that we have used to establish and preserve the relationship.

Then ask your self what's important to you
not what your parents told you is important
do you require space?
is it because you need it?
or you saw your parents not give each other any?
How important is togetherness
and how do you define it?
when doing something together
came to be looked at as trespassing on "space"
I realized how the was more space than togetherness
and it frightened me
when a list of calls and texts displayed a one-sided trend
it frightened me
when other persons displayed greater concern
it frightened me
I started on the new road knowing fully well
that sentiment had been eroded and needed to be mended
It frightens me to see a staus quo reality
and I need to be convinced that things have changed
for all involved not just me

Where I go, what I'll become or who I am or what I'll be
I'll never know....
The last couple of weeks have had such a surreal feel
If I have ever gone "with the flow"
it has got to be an accurate description of my current living
with too many coincidences, chance meetings
and happenings I can tell the universe is alive and well
but instead of stepping back in awe
and looking with wonder
I breeze by "acting as if"
(its the parallel conccept of fake it till you make it)
So I Act "as if " there is more than enough time.
I Act "as if" I'm a healthy eater and skip the butter
Act "as if " I'm free from judgment and ignore that comment

because when change happens there is now a void in place of what once was

By making this choice, I hope I will fill up the space created by releasing the old stuff.

By making this choice I hope I make change an easier process.

Whatever your heart's desire,
act "as if" you are already being, doing or having it!

If that's way it is
Then that's the way it is
I still feel you
and remember what could I ever run to
Just tell me it's tearing you apart
Just tell me you cannot sleep

Everyone expects a different reaction
some said thank God
some said don't stress
he said you're not distressed.
I expected you're not distressed are you (question tag)
I got you're not distressed (full stop)

He said need my help

they said call us

she said i feel like you don't need or want me there

she assured me she did indeed care
what was she upset about?
that i didn't cry?
or that hers was not the shoulder I cried on?
what was he talking about ?
my lack of visible distress or
was he making my mind up for me?

How do you talk about it?
of hope that dangled on a string
that snapped like a broken wing
that hurt like a nettle sting
the pain that only lost love brings
How do you express it?


He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

can I just say
he was my love, my friend, my nu, my day...
and now there isn't any
so what do you do with what once was?
how do i live on
without a pause
without respite
with my normal zest
fastening the mask
what I do best
and then he says to me
you're not distressed.....

For all those wondering what th F$%^ Arjun N Samit N Me
are on about on face book
here it is

all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away...

So we shimmied down to shimmers
for I's birthday on saturday, graciously picked up by birthday boi
through endless in-orbit traffic
(when space travel becomes common this line will make sense)
it was an interesting evening to say the least
I was probably the oldest person there
and a little 22 yr old says, hey I think older women are so hot
instead of being flattered all I could think of was
OH MY GAWD I AM "OLDER WOMEN"
the icing on the birthday cake had to be my dearest friends
A and A (along with sidekick's B, N and H)
who decided to be my sentinels
sat outside the lounge in the restaurant area
and waited till my party ended just to escort me home...
awwwwwwww
and then we all made plans to watch minna's on camera antics
with the whole NDTV thing
plans to prepare her for barkha's grilling had gone awry on friday
so I was kinda nervous for her fingers crossed and popcorn bowl in hand
A n A and me and glenfiddich watched the show
with the boys agreeing that minna had done a good job
but mostly they said that the psychologist was hot
and now everyone wants to look up foxy tanya
which is such a stripper name....
:P
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh
ok so the instalation is by vithal kamat
I took a better look earlier tonight
and I have an opinion...
the actual art work is not bad
the base it's set on is hideous
sigh
first day of the week
I sure am excited
gonna be action packed I can smell it...

Wake up, a-little Suzy.Wake up.Wake up, a-little Suzy.Wake up.The movie wasn't so hot.It didn't have much of a plot.We fell asleep. Our goose is cooked.Our reputation is shot.Wake up, a-little Suzy.Wake up, a-little Suzy.We gotta go होम

ok so i guess falling asleep is totally impolite
:D
btw did you check out the new art installation/ traffic island
by V. Kamat I think
entitled "child gives birth to mother"
its at the junction between Bandra and -Mahim (pronounced mayhem in my world)

quite interesting
I haven't decided how I feel about it yet...

And then the tears came...
Like I knew they should
but of course they would eventually
and that I knew
like I knew when I read the poem below,
that I had posted it, because we had felt like a dream
so sudden, so surreal and yet not quite
for its been the stuff of dreams
the way I'd envisioned and yet incomplete
when half won't do
its time to wake up
but I clung to my sheets
and threw my comforter over my head and said
I don't wanna wake up, burried my head
stayed in bed, for three years
we're always trying to wake up out of nightmares
I was just like anyone else
trying to sleep a little longer so that I could finish this dream

RELATIONSHIP-ROOT CANAL
Its like my tooth ache
all Ive been doing is putting it off
taking the amoxcicillin
but it comes back...
that night was like a piece of ice lodged in my cavity
only thing left to do was a root canal
uproot and fill the void
thing about root canal's are that you can't dull the pain
since the only way to know that all is well
is to make sure you feel the pain
till there is no more pain to feel

For you....
A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not graspT
hem with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Edgar Allan Poe

pheromones... if u got them then u swirl around her. if u aint got them-then get them. n then u swirl around her. wither way u swirl around chrissann...all bow to thee... »
A friend posted a testimonial on face book
articulating what I've been trying to explain to eM
about the happenings at hard rock
and the multitude of men

अब ब्लॉगर हिन्दी में
I am soooooo excited about this feature!!
यह तो कमाल कि चीज़ है
कल रात के नोंसेंसे के बाद
I think I need a litle cheering up
तो ब्लॉगर ने सोचा क्यों न हम क्रिस को चीर-उप करें
उसे तो हम हिन्दी में पोस्ट कराएंगे

Early this year (he he) I have come to realise
anyone can be there with you through a crisis
the real friend is one who's with you through the unimportant days
the yawn of the daily grind
through ennui and numbness of mind
anyone can show up when you're in trouble save the day be the hero
the true hero is one who senses you don't need a rescuer then
just a travelling companion....a friend
i better hush up
before my spin on things ends up being the millstone around the neck of this post