Mumbai......as I see it!

last update

2011-06-22T14:06:00.002+05:30

this is so the last update here....

you need to go here

I WON!

2011-06-16T11:55:00.001+05:30

the 4th prize for my entry in the Indiblogger contest on Real Beauty. Yay!!

And why, pray, have you still not updated your blogroll. You're supposed to be visiting my blog here

Female? Travelling to Mumbai for a day?

2011-06-02T11:39:00.001+05:30

Here's what should be your itinerary

Real Beauty

2011-05-24T01:14:00.002+05:30

is in the eyes of the beholder, no?

I see you are still visiting this blog. I suggest you hurry over quickly HERE to read my very humourous entry to the Indiblogger contest on Real Beauty.

And remember the new blog is www.dipikasingh.wordpress.com

we have moved

2011-05-23T00:49:00.004+05:30

HERE

Please visit www.dipikasingh.wordpress.com

The blog continues. But the platform has changed. I am going to give wordpress a shot. So hop across and continue reading.

Moving to Mumbai?

2011-05-18T16:48:00.002+05:30

I know a lot of people who have moved to Mumbai for work. In fact most of my immediate gang hails from Delhi. Over the past couple of years that I have been in this city, I have come to love it. But I have also come to learn that it is not an easy city to live in. While on the one hand it gives you immense opportunity to prove yourself, fantastic options to let your hair down and enjoy after a hard day’s work; at the same time the daily grind can leave you struggling to find your sense of emotional well being.

Unfortunately, I have some friends who have succumbed and are pining to move back to their home towns. Work and career considerations, sometimes, do not allow this.

This post is for those who have recently moved into Mumbai or planning to do so in the near future. It is a great city and I hope you get to enjoy your stay here as much as I am enjoying mine. Maybe the following tips will help.

1. Your place of stay : has to be as close to your office as possible. You will land up spending a lot of time commuting, else. Distances are not as huge as the lack of roads. Most people will tell you that you can stay far away as long as you’re close to a station and can hop into a local train to get to work. No. If you’re in your 30s and above, it will be very difficult to adjust to the trains. Physically and mentally. Don’t let people cow you down and call you a snob. It’s just something that an out of towner cannot do on a regular day-to-day basis. Hopping into a train during off peak hours to get to an urgent meeting is a different thing. Doable. But not on an everyday basis. I’ll let you on to a little secret. A lot of Mumbaites who can afford a car and driver do not take the train either. So you’re not a snob :)

2. Size of houses : are small. VERY. On an average a 2 bedroom house would be about 700 sq ft. Without any balconies. Come prepared. Discard extra furniture. As you start staying here you will discover that you spend a lot of time outside the house. So gradually the size does not matter. The concept of having people over is rare. Most people go out to chill.

3. Rentals are HUGE: and are divided between a fixed deposit and a monthly rental. It is called a ‘package’. So a 45 package could mean a deposit of 5 Lakh and a monthly rent of 40,000/-. Figure out if your company is going to help you with the deposit. Some companies include it in their city compensations.

4. The city is divided vertically : into Western Mumbai, Central Mumbai and Eastern Mumbai. Each comes with it’s own set of advantages and disadvantages. If you prefer glamour, eating out, wining and dining you’ll prefer staying at the western side. If you prefer quieter areas, maybe even larger houses and slightly lesser rents, it will have to be on the central or eastern side.

5. Go out and socialize : as much as you can. The city has a hectic pace. The traveling, noise, pollution, competition can all take a toll on you leaving you very, very stressed. It is important to have a great friend circle to help you de-stress. It helps that the city offers great places to hang out, which are also affordable.

6. Drinking/Eating places may not actually be very expensive : Unlike a Delhi where mostly nightclubs are either hip and expensive lounges or young and loud discos, here you can actually find watering holes that you can hop across to from work, and which are not shady, are reasonably priced and you don’t even have to dress up for.

7. The city does not sleep : and what could be more proof of this than the fact that the last order at most restaurants is at 1 am- 1.30am. In most other cities the staff would have reached home and be cozying up in beds by then. Very often you will find yourself stepping out for a walk at 11 pm. Enjoy it while you are here.

8. Exercise : whether it’s by going for a run, playing a game, gymming, walking on the beach. Fitness levels are high in the city and also required because of the kind of living.

9. Keep yourself occupied : If you’re a stay – at – home spouse with no child to consume your time, please, please take up something to do. It could be a hobby, classes, part time work, working from home. Something..anything. Or you’ll go mad sitting in a small home with no balconies. I have seen this happen to some friends.

10. Most importantly – Give in to the city : It’s not like Delhi. Or Bangalore. Or wherever you come from. If you’re going to stay here only waiting for your move back, you’re going to be miserable. Explore it. Enjoy the nightlife. Step out of Mumbai at weekends to rejuvenate yourself. The city makes you feel young. Enjoy that.

Bade Miya - It's all about the timing

2011-05-16T23:43:00.006+05:30

Yes, this tiny, literally hole- in- the- wall outfit is one of Mumbai’s biggest institutions. Big enough to have filed a case on a so called copy cat in the suburbs.

Bade Miya is situated in Colaba in a tiny street behind Taj Mahal Hotel and serves assorted Non Veg rolls, dishes and the very famous baida roti, an Indian maida roti stuffed with mutton mince and egg. (They do have a veg extention as well).

However, this post is not about the food that Bade Miya serves. Personally, I can’t say that I’m too thrilled about the food( I say this at the risk of upsetting a whole lot of Mumbaites). Bade Miya’s USP is clearly the time at which it serves the food. It is open almost all night till 4 am.

So if you’ve been partying hard, and emerge happy and hungry, and don’t want to blow more money on a 5 star coffee shop, which probably will be your only other option for grub at that time of the night, you can head to Bade Miya.

Incidentally, for post partying food at night, or if you have friends over and as the night progresses, feel you are going to (god forbid) fall short of food here are a couple of places that you can order from. They are both in the Bandra- Khar area though.

U Turn: open all night : 26460441

Sheetal Kebabs: (open till about 1.30): 26497938

Do you know of more such places that make food available till late at night?

At Sea

2011-05-13T00:00:00.000+05:30

In the waters lapping at the Gateway of India are anchored some of Mumbai’s snazziest private boats and yachts.

And navigating among these are simple boats that will take you for a 45-60 min ride out to the sea. We discovered these quite by accident. None of our uber cool Mumbai resident friends thought we would be interested in this!! They forgot how fascinated natives of landlocked cities get by the sea.

We LOVED it. So will you if you’re visiting or have moved in from a non-port city.

Here are the downsides

1. It’s not a very professionally run show so do expect lots of shoving, pushing etc. The guys running the outfit would like to put in as many trips as possible in order to make the max money. That results in them hurrying you into the boat.

2. Getting on to the boat itself is an adventure coz it rocks so.

3. Some people may look down on you when you announce that you went for the Gateway ferry ride. Bah!

Here are the upsides

1. It’s one of the few the things that Mumbai has to offer by way of enjoying it’s status as a waterfront city ( apart from Juhu beach of course).

2. It’s breezy, takes you away from the madness of the city.

3. It’s a fun, cheap thing to do on an evening when you have zero plans.

4. The view when you look back towards the city is awesome. Especially the Taj Mahal hotel.

The trick, really, is to pay 5 bucks extra and move up to the upper deck. That’s where the fun really is. Try it. Sometime. And do let me know whether you liked it.

Change

2011-05-10T16:37:00.003+05:30

I’m kinda bored with this blog.

I haven’t updated for ages. Initially I would at least have half written posts lying around. Now I don’t even have those. I just keep twisting my brains up on what to write about and can’t come up with a single decent answer.

Some soul searching later I’ve realized that, for me, it is impossible to continue being the subject for ever. Some people manage it so beautifully, finding little nuggets of life’s slices that they put forth day after day and I admire that. For me, it’s become boring. So while I look at life and still find interesting pieces, and trust me right now life is very interesting, I’m unable to put it down as a post because the subject is still my life…atleast my point of view on something, an experience, a conversation heard, a sight seen.

I need a new subject. I did find one some time back and started another blog on that but it petered out. The subject was MUMBAI. And all it has to offer. But keeping myself motivated for two blogs was rather too much. And let’s not even go into the time juggling that required, along with a regular job breathing down my neck too!!

Some more soul searching later, I came up with an idea. I am the group concierge. As in EVERYONE I know calls me up when they need help with this city. “I need a place for a romantic dinner for two and pleeeease suggest something offbeat”, “anyplace on the beach which is non noisy, chilled out and offers awesome drinks?”, “where can I get my daughter’s ears pierced?”, “ hey, my family is coming over from Delhi, can you suggest a touristy itinerary for them?”

Whew! Every Wednesday, every weekend, Dipika puts together plans for friends. Now she is also putting together plans for friends’ friends. Heck, Dipika should charge for this.

So here’s the deal. THIS blog combines itself with the OTHER blog and turns into a blog on Mumbai. My views on Mumbai. And I’m much happier with this solution. So my views, my advice, my suggestions …on how to maximize your experiences of this city. I’m not an expert. After all, I’ve lived here only 4 years. But those 4 years have been spent exploring and eventually falling in love with this city. I think it’s worth sharing the gyaan gathered.

So look out for a new, maybe improved, Mumbai Diva :)

Valentine's Day...at preschools

2011-04-19T18:35:00.000+05:30

I was aghast to hear from a friend that her 2 year old’s pre school celebrated Valentine’s Day. And the giggly teacher found it soo cute. The agenda? They were to get cards with hearts painted on them. Select a classmate of the opposite sex to give it to. And hold hands with them through the day.

Pre school. For 2 year olds. No. I am seriously not finding this cute.

Time flies..

2011-01-03T15:45:00.001+05:30

...and it's already 3 days into the new year. Have a great 2011, people.

Delhi Weddings

2010-12-28T15:00:00.000+05:30

Return tickets to Delhi : Rs 25000/-

Hair and Make up : Rs 2500/-

Fitting into your 10 year old wedding lehenga for your brother in law’s wedding : Priceless.

Just Stuff.....

2010-12-17T17:58:00.002+05:30

What a week it’s been. And this is probably the longest Friday of my life. I cannot wait for it to end. I can’t decide whether I want to end it with a quiet dinner to lick my wounds from the week gone by or drown myself in drunken revelry and just block everything out.

I am very impulsive. While this manifests itself in mails and outbursts that are regretted later, it’s most reflected in my use of the phone camera.

It’s quite hilarious really. I whip out my phone and furiously take pictures when something annoys me. It happens mostly when I’m stuck in a jam and I see people coming from the wrong side, or people jumping signals. The whole idea is to scare the guy in the wrong. Like there is the stretch close to home, near the Lilavati hospital where there is a traffic snarl everyday between 7 and 9 pm. To avoid the snarl, a lot of idiotic people take the wrong lane and then try to enter into the right one closer to the signal. Firstly, its unsafe. For them as well as on coming traffic. Secondly it’s not fair. I spend 30 mins reaching that intersection, you cruise in from the wrong side and enter before me into the lane in all of 30 seconds. So if there is a car near me trying to cut in from the wrong side here is what I do…firstly fight to get in front of the car and block his way, and then stop for a good half a minute to irritate him, glare, and then whip out my phone and take shots of his number plate. Mostly the guy never bothers to react.

My hubby thinks it’s ridiculous. The guy probably does not even know you’re trying to psych him. And what are you going to do with those pictures anyway?, he asks. Which is true. I land up deleting most of them. Maybe I could start a site. Send me pictures of what you see wrong in the city and I’ll post them there. Only I’ll never be regular. And the photos will languish in my mail box. Maybe a phone co could start that. Or a newspaper. That would be fun.

Some Questions

2010-12-16T11:38:00.000+05:30

Why do we have liftmen?

I mean, I know unemployment and all...and we should all be very happy that there is some work for some people, but really I would be happier if we had people employed on intersections like the one at Andheri- Versova on the Western Expressway to control traffic because clearly the cops have given up. The mess is not so amusing to watch when you are stuck in that very mess yourself.

But coming back to the original point. I went to a swank building where I actually had 3 separate meetings on 3 separate floors. Also I went to a wrong floor once for 1meeting. So calculate how many times that means entering and getting out of the lift. Yes, so by the end of it, I nearly felt obliged to invite the liftman to my new year party, where I am sure half the people present I would have known exactly the same amount of time as I have known this poor liftman.

Imagine the life. Up and down all day in that closeted space. Why? Are we so lazy that we cannot press the button of the floor that we are headed to? And the swankier the building, the richer the organization and more the loathing for pressing their own lift buttons. Really. Disgusting. It’s even worse than the ‘driver gaadi laana’. That I can still understand. With the parking conditions as they are it helps to have a poor driver waiting somewhere, driving around till you finish your shopping/lunch/meeting. What the heck, ‘driver gaadi laana’ even I would like to indulge in. But this ’3rd floor/4th floor’ business I can do without.

foot in mouth

2010-08-27T11:51:00.000+05:30

Given that I have spoken at length about my spa excursions, I must tell you about this one experience which was ..ummm..interesting.

I frequent this place called Shen Reflexology. You must too if you live in Mumbai. It’s pretty awesome and most importantly it’s the most reasonably priced place in all of Bandra without compromising on the décor or service. A one hour foot refloxogy would cost anywhere between 900-1100 at the other ‘thai’ places. Here a one hour would set you back by Rs 600/-. Much as I like my foot reflexologies, I am averse to squandering hard earned money too. So Shen is where I go.

Now, it’s a small place and the front desk is actually outside, covered area but well…outside the main room. It is manned by this really sweet girl. And everytime I speak with her to book an appointment, or when I’m making the payment I’m struck by the graciousness of the girl. She’s very helpful, will skillfully manage seating and is extremely polite. So the last time I was there, I was feeling a little bad about her being sitting out there the entire day come rain come sun. I also flirted with the idea of finding out if she’d like a corporate job. We are looking for a co-coordinator for my team and she could well…be evaluated.

So while she was processing my payment, I decided to broach the topic casually. Given that I was also pretty impressed with the payment structure my first question was a casual ‘ so who owns this place?’ Imagine my shock when she turned around and said ‘ I do’. I think my expression pretty much mirrored the shock. I hastily covered up by saying I really liked the prices etc. Imagine if I’d asked her…so, would you evaluate a 9-5 job? I shudder.

The point is I’m very impressed with her. You see, I tried my own retail thing once. I don’t know whether I did it well. While there was hard work, basics in terms of location and scale were lacking. This girl on the other hand has got her basics right. She’s got the right location, the right people and most importantly the right attitude.

Shen refloxogy is at Bandra, in the lane opp Mini Punjab. You can contact them at 26055578.

Saturdays

2010-08-26T14:29:00.003+05:30

I LOVE Saturdays. Who doesn’t? Those who work on Saturdays, of course!

My previous workplace used to be open on Saturdays. It was a ridiculous waste of time. I used to drag myself out of bed, throw on some god awful casual clothes, get to office bleary eyed, play mah jong online till I was even more bleary eyed, indulge in killer gossip, order some random biryani along with some colleagues, eat that and leave. ZERO productivity unless you count the success of intense planning and coordination with all friends to fix a plan for the evening. It also meant that I was unable to get any personal work done AND was amazingly tired on Sunday which was unfortunately the only day left to catch up on sleep, buy veggies, organize the house and nurse a hangover!!

I (and most other sane people on this planet) have always felt that you need 2 days off for any kind of rest and repair. And yet a whole bunch of organizations in India refuse to accept this basic reality. I used to feel a chronic tiredness, was forever thinking about work and had a completely disorganized house. Not a very happy situation especially so for most working women.

My current workplace follows a 5 day week. And am I happy or what!

My Saturday is devoted solely to parlour and spa sessions, extended time spent in the gym, shopping for the house, leisurely coffees/lunches and heart to heart with my maid on corners that are not being cleaned ( I don’t even get to see her on weekdays, we chat on the phone!!) That leaves my Sundays free for sleeping late, catching up with friends and good, quality time spent with the hubby as well.

I just feel so much more stress free and so much more rested. I have far more energy, I come up with far more creative ideas at work and I’m just so much happier.

And on this happy note, I will apologize to all ye good people who have been leaving behind comments without any response whatsoever from my end. Trust me, I love your comments. It’s just that I have not been getting any time to respond to them. Yup, inspite of the ‘off Saturdays’. Too much spa and retail therapy, I tell ya. Please keep the comments coming. I will try and respond. Promise.

Nope. No tattoos for me.

2010-07-16T16:30:00.003+05:30

I have nothing against tattoos. In fact I quite admire some of the pretty, pretty designs I see on necks, ankles, arms, shoulders of various girls/women in Bombay, especially Bandra. But I would never get a tattoo done on myself. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the permanence of the whole damn thing. Or maybe it’s my perception of the pain ( I have a problem with injections too). So when a friend R asked me to accompany her to a famous tattoo studio here in Bandra where she was going for her second tattoo, I was a bit bemused.

Me: Err…listen, I can’t give you moral support, OK? I mean, I’ll probably be the one squirming in my seat.

Her: I know, but I’m leaving for Delhi. For good. In 5 days. Atleast, we’ll get some time to talk.

Me: Ok. Reason enough, I guess.

So we trooped along. She wanted the tattoo on her left inner ankle. The tattoo had to be a small flower. Exactly 1.5 inches in length. Decided young woman. Knows what she wants. We pored and pored over tattoo books and internet sites. But nothing that she saw excited her. Finally the owner of the studio took her wrist and drew a small freehand design consisting of 3 stars and some curvy lines joining them. I must say, I was very impressed. But tempted? No. Our friend finally fell in love with the design and preparations for the actual tattoo began.

We went up a narrow flight of stairs to the cramped 1st floor. All very trippy. Images from Dev D filled my head.

The actual artist who was to do the tattoo left us no room for doubt about his art. It was displayed very generously over his entire body. Yup, he sat there in his shorts, with tattoos streaming all over his chest, back, arms, shoulders….

And then out came the needle. I would have been ready to pass out if I had not been so fascinated with the coolness quotient that this guy was emanating. Funky glasses, a Mac perched on top of the table on which a chat window was open, some music, a earring which I just couldn’t understand ( I think the design required a small portion of his ear to be cut out to accommodate the earring- whoa!).

R was completely unperturbed. This was her second after all. And the first tattoo on her upper arm was way more complicated than this one.

The entire process took about 15 mins. Another friend S ( who too does not want any tattoos) had accompanied R for her first tattoo and had warned me that in spite of all the indignant I -don’t- want- a- tattoo, she did get tempted, if only for a second. I thought about that while I watched R got her tattoo and decided that I wasn’t tempted- even for a second.

All very cool but nah, not for me!

P.S. Maldives? Hahahhahahahahaha. I went to Kashid for a weekend. Sigh. But it was actually quite nice.

Maldives, perhaps?

2010-05-26T19:00:00.003+05:30

I need a holiday. Not just any holiday. But one of those ‘luxury-resort-in-maldives-where-you-lie-next-to-swimming-pool-with-a-glass-of-wine-only-to-wean-yourself-off-for-a-spa’ kind of a holiday. And you do this routine for about 3-4 days. That is all I’m asking for, is that a lot?

My current feeling of dejection, I think, also arises from the fact that my favourite pair of shoes which I wore to office EVERYDAY for the last 6 months have given way and will now have to be changed. Finding a comfortable, yet chic looking pair of heels is such a difficult task. Once upon a time I would not be caught dead in an off white ensemble and black shoes. How the mighty have fallen. Or grown old! I wore these shoes, sandals actually, everyday. They were comfortable yet stylish. Yesterday, I stared and stared at the rows of shoes at a HUGE store in a mall, tried about 50 pairs and didn’t find one that could be worn to office. When I was younger ( sigh!) I would compromise comfort for style. Not anymore. My whole perspective of a day changes if I’m wearing uncomfortable shoes. So the hunt continues.

Yesterday, a friend, who has moved to a new organization was complaining about the space crunch at work. Apparently her immediate neighbor has no concept of space. Dirty coffee mugs, pens, visiting cards and all sorts of paraphernalia keeps encroaching on to my friends work station. No amount of hinting, picking up the cups and banging them on to her table etc seems to have helped.

I had an idea. Take some double tape, I said, and stick it around your work station. Next , tear off some paper, write your name on it, colour it to look like a flag, glue it on to a toothpick. Stick many such 'flags' at various places on the double tape. And everytime she puts anything on your side of the border, turn around and yell BOOM, BOOM very loudly, pretending to hold a gun.!!!! Declare War, I said.

Hmm. A holiday.

?!

2010-04-30T16:22:00.003+05:30

At some point in their lives everyone has to struggle with the 2 difficult questions:

1. Which is the fastest moving traffic lane
2. Why am I not in that lane

Yes, you have a great weekend too.

Happy Diwali

2010-04-27T17:06:00.003+05:30

And before you think I’ve completely lost it, let me explain. This Saturday a few friends, well fed after a huge lunch at a famous Irani restaurant, dropped in demanding tea. Now tea is not something that friends drop in demanding at the Singh household. It’s mostly drinks with far higher alcohol proportions. But ever the charming hostess, I saw opportunity in this as well. The opportunity to show off this FANCY tea set that we own. And this post is really about how we came to own this FANCY tea set.

Many years back, I was working with a company that belonged to an industry that was BOOMING. Come September and my team of two who had been around far longer than I had began to look very excited. There were far away gazes during meetings, many, many looks at the calendar, deep sighs. Err… I thought of the possibility of brand new boyfriends and being quite partial to this love thing, let the whole bad behaviour slide. Till one day one of them repeatedly ignored my question on what we were doing for lunch that day. I was very miffed and with boss like icyness said- Meeting room 2. Right now!

And in Meeting Room 2 the explanations tumbled out.

“It’s Diwali, Dipika”, they said in hushed tones. Seeing my non-comprehending look, they sighed, checked there were no eves droppers outside ( boss lashings are always the subject of much gossip and merriment) and explained.

“Gifts will come”

Me: “Huh?”

“You know the dealers, suppliers…they all bring gifts”.

Me : “Oh, those! Really, I see no reason to behave like this over a couple of boxes of chocolate.”

“Hee, hee”, they tittered. Realizing that it was useless to explain the colossal marching in of gifts that was expected, they let the matter be.

A week before Diwali, I was on the phone trying to sort out some billing issues with a printer. About 25 of us from Sales and Marketing sat together in one bay. And the door to this bay suddenly opened and a large man ably supported by a cast of about 5 marched in with large boxes and started depositing them on various desks. The receiver fell from my hand as I took in this scene of blatant show of diwali greetings. I watched mesmerized as the spectacle unfolded in front of me. And to my complete defense, I was too much in shock to refuse the large box deposited at my desk as well. And as suddenly this whole show had begun, it ended and the large man and supporting cast left, leaving behind a stupefied room.

Even my two lieutenants looked a bit shocked. “It’s never like this”, said one. “This was too blatant.” But then all was forgotten in the ensuing excitement as one overeager, young lad of 24 opened his gift to discover a FANCY tea set.

The next day all of us came in to discover a large sign at the reception.

“WE DO NOT ACCEPT DIWALI GIFTS. PLEASE LEAVE BEHIND ONLY YOUR VERBAL GREETINGS. HAPPY DIWALI TO YOU”

I had to take my grief stricken team out for lunch that day to cheer them up. The FANCY tea set sat in my kitchen for all these years and finally got it’s day in the sun this Saturday. My friends loved it.

Meanderings

2010-04-17T01:29:00.002+05:30

I like that song ‘aye khuda’ from Paathshaala. Every radio station I hopped to during the drive to office in the morning seemed to be blaring it repeatedly. So you noticed I said ‘drive’. Hmm. So let’s give you a review on the Spark, shall we?

It’s what I expected and more. Of course, the first time I drove it back home I had my share of post purchase dissonance. You see, I had initially wanted a Hyundai Santro. I’m very comfortable with that car and I love the road view it provides given the height of the seats. The other cars I have driven have been our very low Hyundai Accent and my previous Maruti 800 and of course dad’s Santro. But on repeatedly having ‘old technology’ drummed into my ears by hubby and sundry other male friends everytime I mentioned the Santro, I opted to go and look at the Chevy Beat which is what was being recommended by all these guys. I found the Beat slightly intimidating and settled on the Spark instead.

It’s awesome. Very zippy. Very smooth on even the lower gears. There seems to be a slight problem with the brake pedal position. It’s higher than normal so my foot does not really land smack in the middle of it but slightly lower. It leaves me feeling slightly anxious that my foot will slip off the brake. Apart from this small anomaly (which I intend to get checked) it’s a great car. The instrument panel is not in front of the steering wheel but in the centre of the dashboard. Which does not matter to me at all. I mean apart from the fuel status I really don’t check anything. At this point a lot of men reading this blog will start rolling about with laughter. “ How like a woman”, they will think. “Doesn’t even look at the controls”. I know this because 3 guys I know, to whom I made this same announcement did exactly that. Much merriment and laughter ensued right in the middle of carter road. Hmmmpf!

It would be unfair for me to comment on the mileage as I do a WHOLE LOT of clutch driving, but I can comment on the interiors which are not as plasticky as some of the reviews made them out to be. As Chevy should ideally say “ Itne paison mein jaan loge kya?”

So all in all, a nice buy for the price. And I’m very pleased that my goal of doing delhi type non-lane-following driving is finally accomplished. Peddar Road jams, here I come.

In other news, thank god it is Friday today. Because it means tomorrow is Saturday. No I’m not looking forward to wild drinking and partying. I am looking forward to having the washing machine repaired tomorrow. There is nothing that throws a bigger spanner in the wheels of life than a non working appliance. What scares me even more is that day after is Sunday. So this machine needs to get repaired before hubby decides to roll up his sleeves and have a “look”. Shudder!!

You guys have a good weekend :)

When the going gets tough.......

2010-04-14T23:06:00.002+05:30

…..the tough run to mommy.

And so the previous weekend was spent in Delhi with parents, sister and dog.

I spent a total of 2 hours staring at the ticketing site ( I always use cleartrip.com – they’re just so user friendly) and finally decided on a flight that took off at 8 pm. It was perfect. I could be out from office without having to take like a half day off and yet reach Delhi at a reasonable time.

We finally flew at 10.30 pm. Most annoying.

AND my return flight got PRE-PONED ( does that even happen?).

Delhi was unbearably hot. However, after 2 years in Mumbai, it was a delight to sit in a ‘cooler’ cooled room again. The sweet smell of khus and the remarkably good job a cooler does in the dry Delhi heat I had all but forgotten. It’s pretty strange to be in love with a new city and yet miss your old city terribly. Right now I don’t have a choice. We live where we work. But I’m wondering what happens when I do have a choice. When one retires. When you have lived like we have, almost nomadically, moving practically every 3 years, it’ll be difficult choosing the city to settle in. I am assuming it will have to be the city that has family…but am not sure any longer.

Anyway, there were rather mixed reactions to my new short hair do. I have never chopped my hair off. And boy, do I mean chopped. From waist length hair to a cropped hair do. You should have seen the delight on the hairstylist’s face when this happened. I had gone for a walk, saw this pretty famous hair studio, walked in, asked for their senior stylist and told him to chop my hair off. The guy grinned and did exactly that. All pretty impulsive.

Me : It’s hair, Ma. It can always grow back! Imagine living life not knowing how I look with short hair.

Mom: Ok, you know now. Now grow it back!

Aaargh!

Somebody else told me I look very ‘Bombay’! Can anyone please decipher that one for me.

Photo of new, short hair do is up. I think it looks very cool.

Of course someone had to come along and spoil this party. It happens to be hubby’s first cousin who has decided to go and get married in December. And given he is the first son in his immediate family to get married and the last marriage that happened in the extended family was ours- 10 years back…this one promises to be the big, fat Punjabi wedding. Now I’m oscillating between growing hair back for flowers in hair type of look or keeping it short and doing the sexy designer wear kind of look.

Decisions! Decisions!

The taxiwalah and the birthday spark

2010-03-26T08:02:00.006+05:30

So while my previous job entailed going to one end of Mumbai, this one requires me to move in the other. Fort, to be precise. Fort is in town. For all non Mumbaities – autos are restricted from entering town - that is Mumbai south of Mahim. I can’t take gaadi because I have trouble maneuvering a 3 box car on the roads of Mumbai. I have to perforce take a cab. Now, just outside my home, in the lane there is a cab stand. So when I burst outside on the first day at 8.30 am, rudely awakening to the fact that life no longer entailed getting out of bed at 9, sometimes 10 and sometimes not at all, I was very, very glad to see one lone cab standing there.

Fort, I cried, flying into it.

Yes, nodded the cabbie, continuing to wipe his taxi’s windshield with a cloth which I swear probably had not been washed in a year. I waited with bated breath. And while I waited I did what most of us do while leaving for work on the first day to a new place. I imagined myself to be the highest performer this next year with the CEO herself congratulating me on my fabulous performance while handing out my big, fat increment letter.

Oh yes. This corporate ladder I was going to climb really fast.

But wait, we haven’t even started yet. How am I going to get a big, fat increment if I’m late on the very first day?

So I stuck my head out of the window and yelled. Bhaiyya, chalo.

I got a dirty look. And we started. At 20 km an hour. I am not joking. Every slow lane that this guy could find, he did. Every signal where we could have cruised by, he slowed and stopped. I simmered and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside. We finally reached office just in the nick of time.

The really-early-waking-up taking it’s toll the next day, I burst out at 8.40 am into the lane and came to a standstill. Oops! Our man was there again. I swear I saw his eyes light up as he realized that this could possibly become an everyday affair. I dragged my feet up to his cab and stepped in and we chugged along again. I reached 10 mins later than prescribed time. Complete no-no on new job. New job with finger swipe system for attendance. The kind that gives palpitations and leaves one in panic.

The third day I decided to be smarter. Hah! One taxi was not going to ruin it for me. In a land where taxis abound, why did I need to be dependant on one guy. I will find myself another taxi. Now our house opens into two lanes. Both lead onto the main road. It is the front lane that has the cabs, the rear lane mostly has private vehicles. I had my strategy pat. I was going to get onto the main road through the rear lane and hail a cab down. So I snuck out exactly as planned. Except you know how plans are. They tend to fall apart. No taxi. Only autos. Buzzing along looking as busy as bees. 2 mins, 3 mins…now what? Yes. I had no choice but to eat humble pie and slink back into the front lane to my faithful cabbie. It’s been two weeks now that this man has been ferrying me to work. I’ve reconciled myself to his driving and have started leaving slightly early. We even have conversations now. Today, we even banded together and fought with the guy manning the toll booth at the Bandra – Worli sea link coz of the inordinately long time he was taking to hand out the charge slips.

This happy bonding, however, comes to an end next week. I have succumbed to my Delhi type feelings and have bought a car of my own. It’s actually my birdday present. You see it was my birdday yesterday. And well, with the heat, and the slow taxis and the fact that barring the last 2 years, I have had a set of wheels of my own for almost 10 years now, pati and I came to the conclusion that I would be happiest with a gadi. It is a Chevy Spark. I wanted something tiny and easy to maneuver. And I love it’s cheeky looks. So the car has been booked and rolls into my life Monday next. Yippiee! Sad for the cabbie tho, but such is life.

Anyway, so pati has run around doing all the formalities for the car registration etc and love for him has reached heart shattering proportions so I took him out for champagne and dinner here:

Aer, on the rooftop of Four Seasons, 34th floor, Worli.

It is an AWESOME place. And they've named it right. It does feel as if you're floating on air. The glass railings around the bar are eye level but are not continuous and you can feel the breeze. And what an awesome view of Mumbai. It was a great evening. Saturday will be party for friends....and monday will be bye bye to the taxiwalah!!

edited to add: i took this pic off the four seasons site coz my 2MP mobile phone camera couldn't do justice to the place. This is actually the smoking section, where we got place, and has a far better view than the non smoking section.

The last couple of months.

2010-03-12T22:37:00.001+05:30

Hey, I’ve been away. And for the life of me cannot fathom why.

I mean here’s what happened. That new job I spoke about with much gusto. Never happened. DO NOT ask me why. We will not go into the sad details. Anyway, with the consequence that I was stranded without work. Hmmm. Now ordinarily one should look at this with much glee, right? Think of the possibilities. Sitting at Café Coffee Day all day, blogging. Or better still, exploring hobbies, taking a course, figuring out alternative income opportunities….

Did I do any of those?

Nah. I moped and expended all my energies in looking for another job. In fact, looking for a job became a full time job in my case.

I thought about a lot of people who would possibly give an arm and leg for the opportunity to have a break. Work will come by eventually. Enjoy the freedom while one has it, I told myself. And then the moment of weakness would pass and I would bury myself in a job portal frantically.

And here I am again. In a cubicle. And strange when I had all the time in the world to blog, I couldn’t. And now when I’m rushed to prepare a presentation, I am.

No. I didn’t enjoy the break. I love this way, way better.

Happy New Year, All

2010-01-04T16:28:00.003+05:30

May all of you lose weight, may some of you learn cooking, swimming, make more money, get better jobs, spend more time with your loved ones....whatever it is that your heart desires or your resolution list says. But most importantly, here's wishing that all of you are very, very happy this year.

55 word reality

2009-12-20T23:32:00.001+05:30

Monday,10 a.m.
She: You’ve reached office?
He: Busy. Will call you back.

2.00 p.m.
She: Had lunch?
He: Yup. In a meeting. Will call you back.

4.30 p.m.
He: You called.
She : In a meeting. I’ll call you back?

7.00 p.m.
She: Starting for home. You?
He: Not yet. Will call you back!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!

'No Smoking' Kills

2009-12-18T11:50:00.002+05:30

And why may you ask? Ok. So imagine a scenario. You are out with let’s say 4 friends. 4 friends who smoke . You are sitting at this awesome pub. Everyone’s having a rocking time. There’s food on the table, there’s drink. And there’s this really interesting conversation going on. And one of them gets up and says, hey I’m going out for a smoke, anyone want to come along. And the rest of them, yup - all of them, get up and wander outside.

So you’re sitting there. With all that food in front of you. Nodding along to the music. A minute goes by, then 2. You begin to feel slightly foolish. You also begin to feel curious about the conversation. And then your resolve weakens. And you get up and join them outside. Well atleast some of you do.

Imagine an even more gruesome scenario. You’re at the office canteen. There’s major gossip happening over who is getting bonuses this year. And one of them gets up and says ‘ acha, I need a smoke, let’s go outside”. What do you do? Oh, what do you do. You can’t sit there in the canteen, expecting them to pause the conversation till they get back. No… in fact you know that the conversation will get even more bitchy, and positively more wicked over the smokes. Will you wait there sipping your limp coffee? Nah. Maybe once, maybe twice. And then slowly your naiveté will die and so will your resolve. And the next time someone says “Let’s go for a smoke” with that meaningful ( ‘I have SO much to tell you) look, you will jump up, go out and stand and gossip. All the while shifting your position to avoid the smoke. But you can’t really avoid the smoke, can you?

Hence proved!!!!

The party season

2009-12-16T23:08:00.000+05:30

Yay!! It’s the holiday season and the time to party. And what indicates this better than the crowd at the gym. Everyone working out like mad to get into their smallest clothes. Really, the plotting and planning I had to do get a treadmill to myself is not funny. It involved zeroing in on a fat aunty and staring her down till the poor thing got off in sheer guilt and then leaping onto the treadmill and giving dirty looks to anyone who tried to stare me down.

Talking of parties, I LOVE karaoke. And I have spoken about this on my other blog…which no one is hopping across to….apart from my 2 very regular readers. It has a total readership of 192 till date. Not your fault people…I haven’t been updating it. But there is a contest there now, which you might want to check out. Anyway, so this whole karaoke thing is pretty big with my immediate circle of friends. You have no clue what a cacophony we can cook up. But it has been restricted to the few pubs, drinking holes that offer karaoke. Till this one friend called up and said she wanted to organize karaoke at home for her husband’s birthday. So the diva went into overdrive and called up everyone she knew to figure out how this would be possible. It’s actually quite simple. One gets these karaoke DVDs at Landmark, Infinity mall. Or better still, like us, you can log on to www.meragana.com and use the streaming karaoke from there. All you need is a great sound system, a fast internet connection, TV and of course your laptop. You need to register for Rs 160 tho…All I can say is that the next morning the hosts got up wondering exactly why the neighbours had not called the cops. I must say we gave them ample reason too.

Can you believe it’s the end of a year? Again? It’s happening faster with each passing year. The other night I was reading Lipstick Jungle by Candace Bushnell (yeah the same woman who wrote Sex and the City), while hubby was watching some deeply uninteresting program on CNBC TV 18, and I turned around and announced “ I want to be rich, famous and sexy”. He turned around and without batting an eyelid said” Baby, all three?” Yup I said. All three. Ok, he said and went back to his beloved CNBC TV 18. Yeah, he knows me well, that man. The point is with each passing year I feel the need to live life even fuller.

And coming back to where I began, this month I feel the need to party really hard. You guys have a good time too. Be merry. Be with your loved ones. And I hope there is a lot of cheer, warmth and love in your lives this season.

Moving On

2009-11-13T17:11:00.000+05:30

The resignation has been tendered. The long chat with the boss has happened. And I am moving on. The last couple of months, I realized I was not headed anywhere. It is dangerous to be bored with work. So one had to pick oneself up and look around for something meatier.

But it is strange how the process of putting in your papers can fill one up with dread. First the unsettling bit of moving on from a zone of comfort. I mean, I know the people here. I know who the friends are. I know who the enemies are. I know the type of coffee I will get. I know from where I can order food that will get delivered in 10 minutes flat! I know my work station. It’s got little chunks of my life on it. My coffee mug. Photographs. A lovely image of Lord Ganesha that a vendor sent me.

And then the process itself. I’m moving on. It’s a natural process of accepting a better assignment. It is also beneficial for my current company, no? I mean best to let go of someone who has sorta lost interest in her role, right? Yet it fills you with a sort of dread to tell your boss that you’re calling it quits.

But post that, once all the talking is done, it is actually quite fun. Lurrrve the notice period.

Once Upon A Tea Time

2009-11-02T17:17:00.002+05:30

Aditi from here ( and a very pretty place it is too ) wrote to me wanting to post a small profile on me and my home. After I had floated down from the seventh heaven of delight on receiving her mail, I…. errr….sat on the post. My camera had conked off and there was no way I could send her pictures. I finally managed to send her some stuff from my phone camera, which unfortunately could not be used. Except for one. The photo of my bedroom windows…which I love.

Anyway, you can read the post here. Thank you, Aditi. And really sorry about the pictures.

Back to the grind.

2009-10-27T15:28:00.003+05:30

As mentioned earlier, I was in Delhi for Diwali. We left on the night of 15th and were back on the 23rd. A good 8 days of Delhi and Amritsar. It was awesome. The weather in Delhi is showing signs of an early winter. The mornings and nights had a distinct nip which reminds you that it is time to bring out the quilts and hang them out in the sun for a good airing. It was also very, very dry. So a lot of chapped heels and lips.

And I had gol gappas. Sigh! If I had my way I had gone directly from the airport to a gol gappa stall and had atleast 3 platefuls. But since that was not possible at 12.30 in the night, I had to wait till the next day. I’m telling you, the week preceding my leaving I OBSESSED over gol gappas. I’ve missed them so much.

I had a grand aunt who always claimed that whenever one visits Delhi, it seems to have changed. This was some 20-30 years ago. Now with all the games ka deadlines, it’s gone even more berserk. Detours, traffic snarls, roads where they were no roads and vice versa. Maybe it is all for the best. But the dust all this construction activity is giving rise to seems a bit doubtful on the health. But Delhi is Delhi. Relaxed. Slow. Very- “aao lawn mein baith ke chai peeyen” at any time of the day - pace.

We dutifully divided time between the in – law household and parents household. Since in laws had a new house, Diwali saw the full works. A typical dilli waali diwali. Lots of lights, diyas, mithai and errrr ……crackers.

Oh, the fun of it all. The roaming around in GK having gol gappas, buying earthen diyas, rushing back home for the pooja and then my favourite part – lighting diyas all over the house…the terrace, the garden walls, steps. Give me an inch of space and there will be 4 diyas there.

And meeting the parents ( and dog!!). Pure bliss.

We also nipped across to Amritsar for a day and a half for the annual visit to the Golden Temple. Mom in law and a couple of friends accompanied us. So it turned into one large picnic.

All in all, a great holiday. It’s great to be back though. Even though one is struggling to find bearings in the office. So there is only time for this scratchy post. More later. See ya.

Karva Chauth

2009-10-07T15:25:00.008+05:30

My first Karva Chauth was exactly 2 days after my marriage. So there I was, still in my kanjeevarams, at my in laws’ house, exhilarated at being with the man I loved all 24 hours without having to rush back home after dates, still reeling under the effects of the marriage ceremony, off for a honeymoon the next day; how could I not have succumbed to keeping the fast? To be very fair my mom-in –law left it all up to me. But the lure of the moment was too much.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself that day. I dressed up in this beautiful red silk saree, had everyone pamper me and had a new husband following me around like I was going to faint any minute. I still remember we went to M-Block market in GK1 in the evening and he bought me flowers for my hair. Goodness! The romance!

It’s been 9 years now. I still keep the fast. And out of no coercion at all. Simply put, I love the festival.

The point is, for me this day is not about keeping a fast so my husband can have a long life ( I mean, really!), it’s a day of love, commitment and a lot of effort from both of us to make it special.

I read a lot of posts lately about the need to make an effort to keep the spark alive, what is one to do when after a few years of marriage the initial attraction wanes to a more comfortable existence. This, for us, is one of the fun things that we do. I’ve never been to a mehndi waali to apply my mehndi. My husband does that for me. Yes. I will wait for 5 minutes for you to stop laughing. You see, a lot of romance between two people seems very silly to a third person. So will this. But trust me, we have loads of fun. The laughter at his designs, the patience with which he’ll struggle with the mehndi cone for at least an hour is so so special. My ( mostly messy )mehndi will never compete with the other womens’ professionally done designs, but I love it this way.

And really, I’m not going to die of starvation or even faint if I don’t eat for a day. The number of times I leave home without breakfast and skip lunch as well due to meetings is phenomenal. So many of us do that. So what’s so different about this day? But the whole experience of having him come home early, the wait for the moon, the breaking of the fast, and the pact to rush out looking for a restaurant which will give us a table immediately is so much fun and so romantic.

And no, I don’t go berserk shopping. I spend the day at office ( writing posts!!!). And my husband is yet to give me any gifts for this particular day.

I take a lot of liberties with tradition. We don’t have the normal home cooked food for dinner. I don’t go and do the puja with the other ladies…I do puja at home. But I keep the fast with earnestness and accord this festival with a lot of seriousness. I know a lot of people who don’t keep the fast. My own mom gave up many years ago. My sister scoffs at the whole proceedings. My mom in law has never kept the fast herself. I think the choice is completely personal

No. He no longer needs to prove his love for me. Nor I to him by keeping a fast. That exists in the small everyday things that we do. But can you imagine the romance and the memories that this festival has given us. In Kolkata, one year, it was impossible to spot the moon from our house, so the man actually drove me down to the Hooghly river bank so I could see the moon from there. It was beautiful. It’s a memory that will last me a lifetime.

I think my nani was very evolved. She used to say that Karva Chauth was possibly a woman's day off. Look at the customs. A woman is not supposed to use a sharp object on this day. So that means no knife and no needle. Tradionally women would spend their time cooking and sewing. So possibly this really was their day off. To be pampered. To wear their finery and get time off from their everyday work. Possibly.

So here I sit in office, in my pink kota saree with lovely zari work, with my boss laughing that in any case I have so many reserves not eating for one day is actually not going to effect me at all(!!!!! ) enjoying the feeling and looking forward to a great evening.

Enjoy Karva Chauth.

Honesty

2009-09-30T18:23:00.003+05:30

I got an award. Yay!! From Dil Se.....

The rules...
“This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.”Some rules of the game:
a) Show off your honesty(and modesty) by thanking the person who gave you the award and link to their post.
b) List 10 honest things about yourself, please no cheating here !! that's the fun part.
c) Select 7 other bloggers you think deserve this award and pass it on to them.
d) Notify the bloggers about the award and invite them to be the honest ones next !!

Here are 10 honest (gulp!) things about me :

1. My husband is the foundation of my life. And I admit that shamelessly. Even to him. Which most friends claim is a crime…because men are not supposed to know how dependent you are on them. Bah!!!

2. I don’t think I want kids. There. I said that. And no explanations to give.

3. I lurrve my smile

4. I am very friendly. I think everyone has shades of grey. I accept that.

5. I’m crazily responsible about my parents. It’s a total reversal now. Them kids….me responsible adult!!!

6. I’m a total Arien. I love talking about myself!!

7. Vibrant colors make me happy. At home, on my clothes….

8. I hate my temper. It’s momentary but sometimes can cause real damage.

9. I find it easy to move on. I can disconnect. Especially if I’m hurt.

10. I cook awesome food…when I want to. Problem is I’m too lazy to cook the everyday dal chawal.

Phew!
I hand this over to…bloggers who I admire for their use of the language, honesty of intent, and art of making one laugh.

Miss M: You always make me chuckle. Love the way you write.
ROFL INDIAN: Funny.
Agent Green Glass: WITTY.Very.
The Knife: His honest love for food is amazing. Brilliant, brilliant blog. I actually copy and store his recipes in the hope that I shall try them some day.
A monk in hot water: Guffaw!!
Ma Voix : Always a pleasure to read her blog.

I have one more award to accept. ( I know. Am showing off. Love it.) That will happen in another installment.

One year......

2009-09-24T20:35:00.001+05:30

…of blogging has swept by. It all seems so strange. Strange that I’ve managed to keep this up given my tendency to get bored really fast. It feels like yesterday when I started this blog. The blog has seen so many emotions, such varied posts, wildly different language styles across posts, and so many many friends. The conclusion is that it is no prize winning, award winning kind of writing; however it is a space where you may drop by, laugh a little, sigh a little, nod a little, comment a little, and go back glad that you read what I’m hoping are honest pieces of life – mine, perhaps yours too.

When I first started, I would edit and re- edit what I wrote. I would stare lovingly at every post and would head back every 2 mins to check response. Not that I don’t do that anymore. I blog with the same passion. But I think there is far more sanity. And I also think it has settled into routine..which means that it’s one of the few things that will see continuity as far as I’m concerned. It’s become a part of my life.

I look forward to posting tremendously. Every thought that I have threatens to turn into a post only to be forgotten moments later. I wish I could save each and actually pen it down. I also wish I could do this with far more regularity than I do now.

Today as I complete a year ( goodness, this sounds rather melodramatic), I think the time has come to unleash this on you. I attempted restaurant reviews on this blog and failed miserably. I’m hoping that having a separate blog will give me a sense of responsibility and I’ll be able to do justice to Mumbai Reviews. ( Truthfully? I am hoping that the blog will make money. I will have shop and restaurant owners begging me to put up their reviews and google is going to be lining up ads for the blog!!!!! With the result I will quit burning in 9-5 hell, lounge around at sea facing CCDs and decide business’ futures. yippieeee)

Happy reading and will always look forward to having you guys around.

Hugh Laurie on acting Wodehouse

2009-09-23T10:16:00.003+05:30

I received this as a forward…It’s hilarious.
…………………
Just in case you share my admiration of the prodigious talent of Hugh Laurie, the British actor who played Bertie opposite Stephen Fry's Jeeves, and now plays the title role in the American serial 'House', here is a piece he wrote for the Russian Wodehouse Society.

Hugh Laurie on acting Wodehouse:

To be able to write about P. G. Wodehouse is the sort of honour that comes rarely in any man's life, let alone mine. This is rarity of a rare order. Halley's comet seems like a blasted nuisance in comparison. If you'd knocked on my head 20 years ago and told me that a time would come when I, Hugh Laurie - scraper-through of O-levels, mover of lips (own) while reading, loafer, scrounger, pettifogger and general berk of this parish - would be able to carve my initials in the broad bark of the Master's oak, I'm pretty certain that I would have said "garn", or something like it. I was, in truth, a horrible child. Not much given to things of a bookery nature, I spent a large part of my youth smoking Number Six and cheating in French vocabulary tests. I wore platform boots with a brass skull and crossbones over the ankle, my hair was disgraceful, and I somehow contrived to pull off the gruesome trick of being both fat and thin at the same time. If you had passed me in the street during those pimply years, I am confident that you would, at the very least, have quickened your pace. You think I exaggerate? I do not. Glancing over my school reports from the year 1972, I observe that the words "ghastly" and "desperate" feature strongly, while "no", "not", "never" and "again" also crop up more often than one would expect in a random sample. My history teacher's report actually took the form of a postcard from Vancouver . But this, you will be nauseated to learn, is a tale of redemption. In about my 13th year, it so happened that a copy of Galahad at Blandings by P. G. Wodehouse entered my squalid universe, and things quickly began to change. From the very first sentence of my very first Wodehouse story, life appeared to grow somehow larger. There had always been height, depth, width and time, and in these prosaic dimensions I had hitherto snarled, cursed, and not washed my hair. But now, suddenly, there was Wodehouse, and the discovery seemed to make me gentler every day. By the middle of the fifth chapter I was able to use a knife and fork, and I like to think that I have made reasonable strides since. I spent the following couple of years meandering happily back and forth through Blandings Castle and its environs - learning how often the trains ran, at what times the post was collected, how one could tell if the Empress was off-colour, why the Emsworth Arms was preferable to the Blue Boar - until the time came for me to roll up the map of adolescence and set forth into my first Jeeves novel. It was The Code of the Woosters, and things, as they used to say, would never be the same again. The facts in this case, ladies and gentlemen, are simple. The first thing you should know, and probably the last, too, is that P. G. Wodehouse is still the funniest writer ever to have put words on paper. Fact number two: with the Jeeves stories, Wodehouse created the best of the best. I speak as one whose first love was Blandings, and who later took immense pleasure from Psmith, but Jeeves is the jewel, and anyone who tries to tell you different can be shown the door, the mini-cab, the train station, and Terminal 4 at Heathrow with a clear conscience. The world of Jeeves is complete and integral, every bit as structured, layered, ordered, complex and self-contained as King Lear, and considerably funnier. Now let the pages of the calendar tumble as autumn leaves, until 10 years are understood to have passed. A man came to us - to me and to my comedy partner, Stephen Fry - with a proposition. He asked me if I would like to play Bertram W. Wooster in 23 hours of televised drama, opposite the internationally tall Fry in the role of Jeeves. "Fiddle," one of us said. I forget which. "Sticks," said the other. "Wodehouse on television? It's lunacy. A disaster in kit form. Get a grip, man." The man, a television producer, pressed home his argument with skill and determination. "All right," he said, shrugging on his coat. "I'll ask someone else." "Whoa, hold up," said one of us, shooting a startled look at the other. "Steady," said the other, returning the S. L. with top-spin. There was a pause. "You'll never get a cab in this weather," we said, in unison. And so it was that, a few months later, I found myself slipping into a double-breasted suit in a Prince of Wales check while my colleague made himself at home inside an enormous bowler hat, and the two of us embarked on our separate disciplines. Him for the noiseless opening of decanters, me for the twirling of the whangee. So the great P. G. was making his presence felt in my life once more. And I soon learnt that I still had much to learn. How to smoke plain cigarettes, how to drive a 1927 Aston Martin, how to mix a Martini with five parts water and one part water (for filming purposes only), how to attach a pair of spats in less than a day and a half, and so on. But the thing that really worried us, that had us saying "crikey" for weeks on end, was this business of The Words. Let me give you an example. Bertie is leaving in a huff: " 'Tinkerty tonk,' I said, and I meant it to sting." I ask you: how is one to do justice of even the roughest sort to a line like that? How can any human actor, with his clumsily attached ears, and his irritating voice, and his completely misguided hair, hope to deliver a line as pure as that? It cannot be done. You begin with a diamond on the page, and you end up with a blob of Pritt, The Non-Sticky Sticky Stuff, on the screen. Wodehouse on the page can be taken in the reader's own time; on the screen, the beautiful sentence often seems to whip by, like an attractive member of the opposite sex glimpsed from the back of a cab. You, as the viewer, try desperately to fix the image in your mind - but it is too late, because suddenly you're into a commercial break and someone is telling you how your home may be at risk if you eat the wrong breakast cereal. Naturally, one hopes there were compensations in watching Wodehouse on the screen - pleasant scenery, amusing clothes, a particular actor's eyebrows - but it can never replicate the experience of reading him. If I may go slightly culinary for a moment: a dish of foie gras nestling on a bed of truffles, with a side-order of lobster and caviar may provide you with a wonderful sensation; but no matter how wonderful, you simply don't want to be spoon-fed the stuff by a perfect stranger. You need to hold the spoon, and decide for yourself when to wolf and when to nibble. And so I am back to reading, rather than playing Jeeves. And my Wodehousian redemption is, I hope, complete. Indeed, there is nothing left for me to say, except to wish, as I fold away my penknife and gaze up at the huge oak towering overhead, that my history teacher could see me now. Copyright Michel Kuzmenko (gmk), The Russian Wodehouse Society © 1996-2005. Established 04/04/1996

Penchant for high rises.

2009-09-21T14:23:00.000+05:30

No, this has nothing to do with buildings. It has to do with jeans.

I was at a multi brand outlet yesterday looking for some. Shopping for jeans always used to be such a regular affair. There were basically 2-3 styles. So one walked into an outlet, asked for a couple of styles in one’s waist size, tried them on, checked out butt, and walked away happy.

Not so anymore. One is dazzled with the array of shelves and shelves of bootcut, regular fit, comfort fit, relaxed fit, skinny jeans, jeweled jeans, cropped jeans…. However, in all this delicious vastness, I see only one problem. They are all ‘low rise’. Low Rise for those not in the know ( I wonder if any such people exist) are jeans which are dangerously low on the waist. Very sexy…until you sit down. I have not and never will be able to figure out this complete acceptance of low rise jeans by junta without batting an eyelid. I mean, come on people….your butt shows. It’s a yuck sight.

I eyed the shelves very doubtfully and wailed to the sales boy “ But I want regular fits in high rise.” I received a rather – here comes an absolute not with it aunty – kinda look. He scanned the shelves and said “ I have a mid rise, why don’t you try that?” Mid Rise? I mean, they sound like such an apology.

Left with no choice and in complete lack of decent jeans and the time to buy them in, I trotted into the trial room. After much huffing and puffing which seems to be the perpetual norm with me when in a trial room, I struggled into the jeans. I was still doubtful. So I peeked out of the room and asked the assistant hovering around to get me a stool. After a faintly puzzled look, I got one. I proceeded to sit on the stool.

Nah. My hunt for high rise jeans is on.

Sunday Breakfast

2009-09-17T16:55:00.002+05:30

The first year of marriage is a huge learning period. It is a period when the husband learns that the sweet woman he married, with big eyes adoringly looking up at him, willingly calling night a day and day a night if he said so had somehow altered into a woman who shrank from wet towels on the bed as if they were snakes, dictated weekend plans which somehow never included going to pubs with large screens to watch cricket matches, spent loads of money on different colored shoes and basically turned his life upside down.

I don’t know how the other husbands react, but my bright boy realized that forces had to be pressed into action to gain control of the situation.

So my bright boy came up with a plan. It was a simple plan.

The bright boy knew that women are, at heart, soft. They melt. They melt at endearing little combinations of tousled hair, goofy expressions and…….lovingly prepared breakfasts on Sundays!

And therein started the ‘Sunday breakfast by hubby’ ritual at home.

This ritual has been followed religiously for almost 7 years now; atleast whenever breakfast is at home. It has led to wife being very lovingly proud of husband, women friends being extremely jealous of wife and women friends’ husbands ready to box hubby’s ears!! And hubby getting away with leaving wet towels on the bed.

It is another matter that the state of the kitchen post all the breakfast making sometimes made the wife feel that perhaps she would be better off stopping all this show of love and culinary skills…..but…… what the heck! It’s just too endearing.

My Festive Clock

2009-09-16T00:04:00.001+05:30

All that glee at having the laptop back, followed by precisely 2 posts. Tsk! Tsk!

Anyway, my festive clock has gone for a toss. See, in Delhi, the festivities begin now. It’s beautiful. Slowly, the days will get shorter. Dusk will come about sooner and dawns will be slightly hazy, lazily warning you of the cold to follow. Little, twinkling strings of lights will come up in balconies and windows. Societies and clubs will go berserk enticing people to their Diwali melas. There will be diyas to buy, mithai boxes to get packed, card parties to attend, long walks to check out the innovative lights……

Hubby would always be amused by my reaction to September. My anticipation for Navratri, Diwali, Karva Chauth, and glorious winters is all summed up in this one month. In Mumbai, with Ganpati Puja, the festivities arrive sooner. And while I partake of them with as much enthusiasm as I possibly can, they are not an intrinsic part of me. And this is when I begin to miss home.

Diwali will be at Delhi, of course.

Diwali in Delhi is magical.

A movie....by a friend.

2009-09-10T16:42:00.003+05:30

“There’s a strange feeling in my stomach… Its either I am hungry or I am in love….And the only way I can find out is by taking you out for dinner..”

Blue Oranges…..a movie by a friend.

Releasing soon.

http://www.blueorangesthefilm.com/

Goa

2009-09-08T01:06:00.004+05:30

We are a couple that does not believe much in booking places for stay, in advance, when traveling on a holiday. Or, more correctly, we are a couple where one half does not believe in booking places for stay, in advance, when traveling on a holiday while the other half raves and rants and makes dire predictions about how there will be no rooms available and how one will be helplessly stranded on streets and grumblingly eats humble pie when the first half lines up super room in super hotel. Each and every time. He cheerfully attributes his complete confidence and ability to get his way to his hostel upbringing.

Why do I bring this up? Because this is the background to our first Goa trip. This was about 4 years back, from Delhi. We had very little money to spend on that trip. It was November. Season had already started. Most sites reflected some obscene room rates. So, as usual, it was decided we would just….. go. And so we……... went.

The only information that we were armed with was that we HAD to stay at north Goa and it had to be as close to the beach as possible. So after the usual 3 hours of drama and driving around looking for a place we settled for a resort called ‘Whispering Palms’. Well…..definitely not a shack…I think I romanticized a bit in my earlier post. But most definitely not a Taj.

It was your usual aunty and uncle --- and loads of screaming children - kinda resort with one nice, tiny swimming pool with aunties floating around in their salwars and one restaurant which served only buffet for breakfast, only buffet for lunch and only buffet for dinner.

Nice rooms though…and close to the beach.

Since the resort really didn’t offer much in terms of entertainment, it had to be the beach, which was exactly what we had in mind anyway. That year we discovered absolutely pig – like behavior of guzzling beer and nibbling on fish while lying on a beach cot for 7-8 hours at a stretch. To get around in Goa, you have to have a bike. We’d get out of the resort for breakfast at a shack on the beach, drive around lazily to some more beaches close by, come back to Baga (which by the way will always remain my favourite), lie around on the beach interspersing beer drinking with dips in the sea. Absolute, sinful fun. We were younger then. It took absolutely no effort to pick up the bike and travel around Goa to far flung beaches like arambol up north and palolem down south with dinner thrown in at Panjem.

To digress a bit, you just have to take the route up north towards beaches like arambol. It’s a beautiful drive through villages, across a river and through the ghats, Very scenic.

Anyway, that was then.

This year we decided to splurge on the…Taj. So Fort Aguada it was. Booked very much in advance by moi. It’s a beautiful property. And that ladies and gentlemen is the difference. This year we spent most of our time at the resort. A beautiful swimming pool overlooking the sea, a beautiful bar called SFX ( which I loved) again overlooking the sea and 3 restaurants offering different cuisine. It was a different Goa. One did do the trip to Baga beach, one did do dinner at Brittos on Baga beach ( a delightful, very popular hang out – for the uninitiated to Goa), but this time one did not madly rush around to the other beaches, or madly drive around. One stayed at the resort, visited the spa, and generally behaved very la-di-da.

So I wonder, was this because we’ve grown older, or was it because one has slightly more paise then 4 years previously?

But Goa is Goa----whichever way you enjoy it. Whether at a 5 star resort or at a shack on the beach, the romance of the sound of the waves, the never ending sight of the sea, the calm village like atmosphere, the endless beer, and the ease with which one can slip into a different world altogether where client deadlines, screaming bosses and traffic snarls seem from like a different lifetime, the place has a attraction that will keep pulling me back there and honestly I don’t care where I stay as long as I get unlimited beer and unlimited sea.

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Oh, and this is my 50th post :)

My laptop is back. Yay!

2009-08-25T22:54:00.002+05:30

After being at the service centre for 3 whole weeks, it is finally back. With a brand new keypad. Oh, how I missed it. No blogging has happened for quite some time now and I’ve missed that. There are several half written drafts lying around in the office which have been dutifully transferred to this laptop and will shortly see the light of day as blogposts. Oh Joy!

We will, of course, begin with the mandatory travel recount of Goa (which, by the way, was an absolutely, sinfully delightful holiday). Not that there is any paucity of posts/ accounts etc of Goa on the net. But a visit to Goa warrants a post. Also there is something I wanted to share with you. I discovered that the whole experience of Goa can be quite different when living in a charming, well…, shack compared to pigging it out at a fancy resort. Which is better? That is reserved for the next post.

I'm off to surf, read, comment, enjoy, …and finish the travelogue.

See ya soon.

Stressful Times

2009-08-05T17:12:00.001+05:30

A harrowing 16 hour bus ride into the mountains of northern India for an offsite and a 14 hour ride back!

A complete and total non co operation from personal laptop which had to be sent back to the service centre.

A relapse of the viral, the only consolation being that right now all of Mumbai seems to have it too.

A pitter patter of rain into my kitchen through the roof which seems to be unyielding to all water proofing treatments.

Work, well, let’s say not going too good.

And, worse of all, blog hit counter not moving ahead at all.

Stressful times, indeed.

On a cheery note, I have gone back to the gym. With rain and all, the running schedule was going for a toss. Same brand of gym but a branch closer to home. So I may access it on weekends as well. Still with a very high quotient of bollywood type people. So, still providing high doses of humor.

And I am going to Goa. In a couple of weeks’ time. I have carefully booked for the next long weekend well in advance. Flight tickets and place of stay. You have nooooo idea how much I’m looking forward to that.

On that note, I will buzz off. I am writing this from office. I mostly pen down my posts at home and use the office laptop only for reading blogs purposes ;)

Cheers!

Letter.

2009-07-16T01:06:00.002+05:30

To the 17/18 year old girl at next table in restaurant,

It’s OK. I understand that you were feeling sorry for us. And I know you were thinking that you would never want a marriage like that. Where two people are out for dinner at a romantic setting but are not talking to each other. I know because, you know, I used to think that way too. My idea of a romantic dinner was to look lovingly into my partner’s eyes and talk. “My goodness”, I would say , spotting silent, brooding couples at restaurants. “I hope I never have a loveless marriage like that”.

But you know what? I was wrong. And today, I know you are too. Marriage is more than looking at each other lovingly across candle lit tables and talking.

Marriage is about a tired husband coming back home to discover no dinner as the maid/cook did not turn up because of the rains.

Marriage is about a husband understanding that the wife is too tired to cook.

Marriage is about a tired husband agreeing to go out for dinner because his wife says she had a rotten day at the office and wants to step out to cheer herself up.

Marriage is about giving each other the space to sort out jumbled work related thoughts and not talk incessantly about trivialities.

Marriage is about wife knowing that he will tell all once he’s done sorting out his brain.

Marriage is about husband knowing that she will tell all once she’s done sorting out her brain.

Marriage is about comfortably waiting for two plates of spaghetti bolognaise while just soaking up the atmosphere and trying to find mental peace.

That’s marriage, sweetie. And you’ll be lucky if you have one like ours.

From,

The ‘jaded’ and 'bored' couple on the next table.

Men in Black

2009-07-13T15:26:00.003+05:30

To all ye waiting with bated breath to hear of my joyful weekend exploits, there is very sad news. Due to conditions involving complete mess up in booking and an important meeting of hubby that cropped up, all plans had to be shelved.

After much temper tantrums on friday night, the Diva woke up to zen-like calm on Saturday morning and decided to indulge in obscene amounts of spa, retail and wine therapy.

And once again, blew a kiss of thank you to the creator for making her a woman. Wha..? Let me explain.

At an Arrow sale in the friendly neighborhood mall, the Diva sat through the modeling of 5 black trousers by hubby, each trouser accompanied by a questioning look from the darling.

5. Black.

The head is still muddled from the strain of having to find differences between them all. So, one actually wept for joy when the 6th turned out to be grey!!

But, really, how exciting can it get to wear varying shades of black and grey trousers, matched with varying shades of blue and pink shirts - every working day?

No wonder they went ballistic when khakis came into fashion!

Tsk! Tsk! Poor things.

Point of View

2009-07-09T19:18:00.011+05:30

When I look up from my laptop at the work station, this is what I see......

So obviously I keep looking up from my laptop too many times for comfort. Or shall I say the more accurate – sometimes I look down at my laptop :) . ( Uh Oh. If anyone from office is reading this, please understand that the previous sentence was only for effect and drama!!). But really, I do have a lovely view of the skies from my work station. Especially now when the skies are all grey, it rains intermittently and it’s absolutely beeyoootiful.

Apart from the many things that Mumbai has taught me, appreciating and adjusting to the monsoons is one. I’ve mostly lived in Delhi. Delhi’s version of the monsoon is intermittent drizzle or torrential pour depending on the mood of the skies; followed by some uprooted trees lying decoratively on cars and huge traffic snarls. Similar to what happens in Mumbai. The only difference? In Delhi this lasts for a week, 2 if it’s a good monsoon. In Mumbai this lasts for 2 months, 3 if it’s a good monsoon.

In Delhi, it was easy to fold up your life and pack it away for a week. Sit at home and have chai and bunk college. Or struggle to work, sit in office and drink chai and bunk work mentally!!

But not so in Mumbai. One can’t pack away one’s life for 2 months, right? So you wear your not–best slippers, carry a trendy umbrella ( I would never be seen with one in delhi), wear sturdy black and step out and carry on with life and work. With stoic determination. There are, of course, tricks to survive all of this. Never looking down at the ground is one of them. Nu-uh. It’s too messy. But the greenery around, beautiful.

Even the monsoons in both these cities are so typically different…..Delhi monsoons encourage you to slow down, enjoy your cup of tea, and chill ( and also sometimes feel blue – completely personal view). Mumbai monsoons push you to find your emergency supply of patience, curse the administration and yet leave you feeling exhilarated.

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

To enjoy the monsoon better, the Diva and hubby are determined to actually do a 'weekend getaway' this weekend, something we have not been able to do so far in Mumbai. Possibly to nearby Khandala. OR ANYWHERE. Given the fact both of us have been down with the beastly viral, a much required break would be wonderful!

Some songs......

2009-06-24T15:03:00.006+05:30

This is when I had my quaint little shop in Delhi. This shop had an even quainter music system that would only play tapes. Yes, those things called cassettes. During that time I caught a song somewhere. I think it was on TV. That song had the potential to make me feel sad at times, totally and moonily in love with hubby at others and at times it would make me so happy. Yes. It was one of those songs. You know, the ones that give you goose bumps. The ones where you fall in love with the song, the lyrics and the artiste.

So I bought a tape of the album and ran it over and over and over……..

It annoyed me tremendously that the song was not breaking records and climbing up the charts.

The song is called ‘Abhi Nahin Aana’. And it’s by a beautiful singer called Sona Mohapatra.

Why did I bring this up? Because I met the girl today for work reasons. And I loved her. And I’m so glad she is the way she is. She embodies and lives up to that song. If she wasn’t, I would have felt very disappointed. For me the song stands for certain qualities and characteristics and it would have broken my heart to meet someone where it was very clear that she had only lent the voice for commercial reasons. She is that song. She believes in her music and will not compromise.

Here’s a link to the song…. You may like. But again, you may not. I LOVE IT.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BC2q9BJoO5A

Shopaholic!

2009-06-19T19:23:00.003+05:30

Are you a shopaholic? Do you feel the need to buy shoes, clothes, curtains, cushions, lipsticks…err.. soap dispensers at regular intervals? Do you dread opening your cupboard because you know closing it again is going to be a daunting task? Do you still open it, stare inside mournfully, and tell the air around you “I have nooo clothes”?!

I am a shopaholic. And what better proof of that than the fact that about a year back I bought a waffle maker. What to do? I had visions of pottering about the kitchen making yum waffle breakfasts. Post purchase, I kind of realized that I hate pottering about the kitchen on Sundays. (And sunday breakfasts are so hubby's domain- but another post on that) And so, that was that. The waffle maker is sitting pretty in my bed box. Yup. Not even in the kitchen….so there’s not even a remote hope that the poor thing will be able to display its skills.

What brought this on? On Sunday, while on a random shelf cleaning spree, I came across a body brush – with extra hard bristles on one side ‘for the stubborn cellulite on your thighs’ and soft bristles on the other side ‘for those jiggling arms’!! I don’t even remember when I bought the offensive article. But I’m sure at whichever place I bought it, I must have stood looking longingly at it convinced that if I didn’t buy it NOW, the heavens would collapse!

Terrible!!

What's your calling?

2009-06-16T01:21:00.001+05:30

There is this new hire in my team. Since she stays very close to home, I gave her a lift one day on the way back from office. We were generally getting to know each other better when she asked me a question that threw me. She said – ‘are you doing what you were meant to do?’ I was puzzled. Not – ‘are you doing what you like to do’. The answer if she had asked me the latter would have been- yes. The answer to the former – I did not know.

How do I know what I was meant to do? For 10 years I have been trained to think like a marketeer. I have data banks of event management agencies, I can translate client briefs into great communication ideas, I can spot a great ad layout, I can think up out of the box brand promotions. Yet, when I go to a book store I make a beeline for books on interiors, I scan newspapers for articles on interiors and when an editor asks me what subject I would consider free lance writing on, I promptly answer – Interior decoration.

The thing is I graduated college at a time when anyone with reasonably good marks opted for a course in management. There were very few who knew what their real calling was. The rest of us just wanted a good job. That included me. So an MBA it was. There were sporadic bursts of independent thought, like the two years where I ran a home accessories and gift store. But the ravages of reality put a stop to that too.

That brings me round to my original point. I like what I do. I enjoy my work. I am familiar with it. I know what my growth path is. I know that even if I’m not exceptionally brilliant at what I do, there will still be growth based on what I have learnt and delivered so far.

On the other hand, Interior decoration may just be a hobby. It may be so interesting only because I don’t have to make a living out of it. Given the pressure of making money out of it, I may not have been so kicked with it. Maybe, right now it is only a release or escape from the otherwise all-encompassing 9-5 work.

So really, how do I know what I was meant to do? I panicked for a second when she asked me that. Was I really climbing the wrong ladder? But the next day when I went back to office, sat down on a marketing plan, argued my point across with a co worker, I realized I was happy. I looked forward to this. So there was no point in wasting time moping around wondering if I was doing the right thing. It was time to make the best of what I had. And yes, maybe make time for a couple of hobbies on weekends.

Mundane stuff

2009-06-09T17:51:00.002+05:30

Sometimes, the most mundane, repetitive tasks can be sooo de stressing.

For eg, once I reach home, post office and traffic battles, I love to pick up clothes drying on the clothesline, fold them neatly and put them away.

This simple, mindless task has an unbelievably calming effect on me. Those 7-10 minutes help me to switch out of work, sort out my jumbled brain, slow down the speed of my thoughts, get out of any angst I may be feeling towards a co worker/client/the irritatingly slow driver in front of me and feel happier and more relaxed. And enjoy the only meal one has with hubby………….

Fine Dine, anyone?

2009-06-05T01:39:00.001+05:30

Carter road promenade, for those not from Bombay, is this lovely, happy, well lit walk way next to the sea. It is hugely crowded on early mornings and evenings by people who step out for a brisk walk, a jog, to spend some time with their children or just to be by themselves. One end of Carter road has a row of restaurants which range from fine dining to the more casual eateries and also some simply divine dessert places. The place reverberates with a carnival like atmosphere most evenings and more so on weekends.

It was here that I saw him last Sunday evening. Hubby and I had stepped out for a walk. It was high tide and the setting sun cast a warm glow over the horizon. Feeling lazy and totally goalless, we sat down on an edge of the promenade, our legs dangling over - almost touching the water. That’s when I spotted him sauntering over. I felt a little sorry for him. He looked unkempt and unloved. He hesitated and then turned away. Nimble and sure footed he went down to the rocks jutting out from beneath the water. For a minute he stood silhouetted against the setting sun, looking strong and very, very lonely. And then it happened. In a flash his face was in the water and he emerged victorious, a dead fish dangling from his jaws. For the next 10 minutes we watched fascinated as he carefully and systematically dined, beginning at the tail and going right up to the head. Strangely, watching him eat, hubby and I started speaking in whispers, almost as if wishing to not disturb him.

A warm, happy feeling began to creep up on us. We both love animals. And were very comforted by the thought that at least one stray would sleep well fed that night.

Rambling Post

2009-05-26T01:24:00.003+05:30

Sister – in – law came visiting from Delhi last week. With 7 yr old daughter in tow. So moi donned work hat, rushed to office, rushed back early, changed into tourist guide hat….and this continued for a good 5 days. Hubby of course made lovely guest appearances at dinner, smiled at the kid, made all the right noises and made himself scarce the rest of the time. No amount of hissing- you’re being rude – helped. Can’t blame the poor man though, his company has launched a new product so things are pretty busy there as well.

Anyway, I saw Mumbai through very new eyes. Playing tourist guide to a 7 yr old is a different game altogether. So the aquarium ( on marine drive), museum type of places got heavy attention, while the popular nightspots- so much a part of my tour guides - were obviously given a miss….I’m actually guilty of not even knowing of the aquarium’s existence before this. It was rather interesting. I only wish the place would look slightly less dilapidated.

Not having any kids myself, I found it fascinating, and rather alarming too to admit the truth, at how two grown women in their thirties were complete putty in the hands of this pint sized girl.

I must say, however, it was an enjoyable time, though I was very, very tired by the time they left on Sunday morning.
………………………………….
I also had one major scare over the weekend. My blog's hit counter stopped working. Aargh! I mean, what is there in life worth looking forward to apart from hubby’s love and the hit counter. And not necessarily in that order. I discovered this calamity on friday. All weekend I had no chance of getting near my laptop. That I lost my sleep would be an understatement. So come Monday morning the first thing I tackled was this particular problem. Aaah. Life is good again.
………………………………….
I’ve decided that there is more to Shilpa Shetty than just her perfect waist. I kinda liked her conduct during the IPL. No rushing off to the field to give hugs to her team ( I found Ms Zinta’s huggy thing very cute last year, this year it just put me off) and no childish acts of disowning the team when they lost…..
………………………………….
I went for a pedicure to this herbal place. They put rose petals in my pedicure basin. Yeah. 5 of them. I counted.
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I’ve also decided that I’m going to stop this disappearing act from the blog. I will try and post more often. So see ya soon…

Photo......

2009-05-14T16:23:00.000+05:30

…is up. On my profile. And my name is Dipika Singh.

There!!

I prefer it this way.

:)

Its not music to my ears!!

2009-05-11T23:55:00.002+05:30

About 2 years back we realized our music system was kinda showing symptoms of old age. Further investigations revealed it was on its death bed. For two years we held on to it, but with a heavy heart, sometime last month, we decided it was time to let go.

Hubby, of course, was delighted!!

It gave him a legit chance to browse around in electronics’ shops without scowling wife complaining about how it is a sheer waste of a Sunday, about how insensitive he is to lounge around in a store which holds no interest for her and how she’d rather be doing mutually interesting things like ..er.. trying out new lipstick and nail paint shades at Beauty Centre, hmpf..

Anyway, so we have been to all these interestingly futuristic, vast, brightly lit shops checking out systems of varying wattages ( Oh! My poor ears), designs, brands as well as some refrigerators, LCD televisions, all sorts of phones, home theatre systems, a very interesting rice cooker, a back massager, new types of laptops, tiny DVD players…., before we finally settled on a Philips music system. On week 1. We decided to sleep over it.

Mistake.

Week 2 saw us repeating the whole jig at another store. After endless rounds of more deafening trials we settled …on the same Philips model.

Much bargaining ensued. On our poor, old system!! Exchange value and all. My man wanted the store to put a value of atleast 5K on it. The store adamantly ( and very intelligently) decided not to part with more than 1 K. Week 2 ended in stalemate.

Week 3 saw us at a 3rd store ( when will it end? you ask, the spine chilling suspense nearly killing you). Before the man’s eyes, heart and whole being could begin to wander around again, I spotted the zeroed on system. I was determined to take charge. This had to end.

“This”, I said, pointing to the system in display. “We want. And we have an old system. Take it for 2 K”. The sales guy goggled at this display of assuredness. Spotting the hubby floating towards a higher wattaged system, I nearly shouted at the man “ Yes, we want this system. Formalities, quick.” The poor guy hotfooted - it to his boss. I sighed with quiet satisfaction. Life could now return to normal. The dratted music - system - purchase was dispensed with. One could now get on to spending the Sunday more constructively.

I almost looked kindly at a monstrous home theatre system that hubby was eyeing lovingly.

“ Ahem, Madam”, said a voice at my shoulder. “ Philips has discontinued that system. We don’t have any in stock. In fact none of our stores have any pcs in stock. However I can show you this much better system with higher wattage……”

“ Or", said the hubby hopefully, “we can always check out that other store in Juhu next week”.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Sigh! Nice weekend.

2009-05-03T23:52:00.002+05:30

Guide on how to book a Weekend Getaway near Mumbai for long weekends.

Step 1 : Study official Holiday List sent out by HR at beginning of the year.

Step 2 : Mark out all long weekends.

Step 3 : Plan on destination for holiday.

Step 4 : Make bookings.

Step 5 : Hide tickets in locker.

Step 6 : Do step 1-5 in complete secrecy IN THE FIRST 2 WEEKS OF THE YEAR. Others should not come to know you are doing this. What if they start doing the same before your bookings are done. Horrors!!

Step 7 : Grin wickedly when idiots like the Diva hunt for bookings a week before the long weekend.

I kid you not. I must have called up atleast 25 resorts in all the sundry weekend places dotting the neighborhoods of the city, only to be told “all is booked”. Really. People here book weekend holidays weeks, no… months in advance. Hah. I have now scouted my holiday list as well. There is a long weekend in August. Decisions will be taken, places will be booked. This very week.

But on the whole, inspite of the disappointment of not being able to take a break from the city, it’s been a lovely weekend. 3 wonderful days of lazing around, eating out at breakfast, lunch and dinner( I’m stuffed, I tell ya), back to back Agatha Christies, half a day of spa ( bliss, bliss, bliss)...

“3 whole days of nothingness”, hubby had said, reflectively. “ We’ll fight by Saturday evening.”

!!!!

And we did. Saturday afternoon, actually. Sigh. The pitfalls of knowing each other so well. But, happily, all was well very soon. A wonderful, glorious weekend.

Discovering Running

2009-04-14T00:48:00.000+05:30

And my 3 month Gym membership has come to an end. Vastly entertaining though the experience was, what with all the celebrity spotting, I am going to discontinue for some time. I have lost weight. Am far more toned and am extremely motivated to lose more weight. BUT, am bored. With the gym. And it’s routine.

About 2 weeks back, Hubby convinced me to come for a run with him. The man runs a distance of 6-8 kms. Every day. (Phew, it tires me out just writing about it). Sometimes on Marine Drive after office. Sometimes at Jogger’s Park. He’s soooo fit. I always thought running to be boring. But he convinced me to try it out once.

The first day I walked a good 4 kms. Running did happen. Only for about 1 km and, that too, intermittently. The first couple of days were tough. Creaking joints, protesting muscles and of course the mental image of self resembling a sack of potatoes hurtling down the track were deterrents. But he was good. Cajoled, coaxed and even altered his stride and speed to match mine. And now I’m hooked. Also, results are amazingly drastic. I’ve dropped half a waist size in two weeks and clothes are beginning to loosen further. I could partly attribute the drastic loss to a change in routine from the gym. I’m using a different set of muscles etc, etc. The point is, the weight loss seems like an added bonus. The exhilaration of running is a far more over powering emotion. Try it.

0ne, Two, Buckle my shoe…..

2009-04-01T15:36:00.006+05:30

Tag from D….. I have to assign something of importance to the figures 1 thru 10. (Trust me it’s not as easy as it looks). But fun.

1 is the number of siblings I have.

2 is the class in which I read my first book ( Amar chitra kathas, tintins not counting) – The Faraway Tree by Enid Blyton. No wonder I’m such a reader. What a start!!

3 months is how long I'd known my hubby ( in B school ) before I realized I was hopelessly in love with him.
4 is the number of cities I’ve lived in post marriage.

5 ft, 4 in. is how tall I am.

6 years old, and my neighbor’s dog bit me on the leg. Still have the scar. Man, I was so proud of it as a kid.

7 is the number I’ve always considered to be my lucky number.
8 is the number of years I’ve been married.

9 kilos still to lose…..sigh.
10 poor dear, has no significance in my life whatsoever :)

You wanna do this, Iya? And A? And SMM? And Chandni? And WSW? And Serendipity? And Mukta? And of course, anyone else who’d like to pick it up…please do so.

House Update….

2009-03-31T12:17:00.002+05:30

House found.Last Wednesday. Lease finalized on Thursday. And we moved in on Friday.

Yup, that was how fine we were cutting it. Our previous lease expired on 31st March ie today, and we hadn’t extended it. So effectively, we had kinda given notice that we'd clear out by today. Shudder!!!!

Awesome house. Fell in love with it immediately. Great location too. And no. No sea view :) But close to the sea face nevertheless.

In spite of getting professional help, things are still in shambles, of course. Well, partly. But I think we should be settled by this weekend.

Great, huge sigh of relief.

House Hunting.....

2009-03-23T15:06:00.003+05:30

Most of us, at some point, have interacted with the species called the Real Estate Agent (also fondly called Property Dealer).

Since the great house hunt has begun to find an abode equidistant from hubby's and self’s office, given that we now work at two opposite corners of the city, currently the property dealer is the Diva’s best friend. The ensuing interactions would have provided much merriment had the situation not been so grim ( current landlord having been served notice without any new landlord in sight).

They will say anything, ANYTHING, to chipkao a house to you.

I have seen about 20 houses already. They just don’t get what I want. One lured me during office hours to see a sea facing flat. ( ‘Sea Facing?’ spluttered hubby, swallowing great, big chuckles. ‘Baby, you are aware of our budget, na?’). I still went to see the house. Trust me, I will have nightmares for 2 weeks, atleast. Of course there was the sea, well the Bandra creek to be more precise. But please do not ask me about the house itself. Well, since you are insisting let me tell you. A lizard infested lobby, a creaking lift, seepage……BUT, ‘It’s sea facing, madam’!!!!

Gah! I need strength.

Gulaal

2009-03-18T11:37:00.000+05:30

I watched the movie over the weekend. And loved it. Yet again, Mr Kashyap manages to suck you in and become involved and fascinated by the drama as it unfolds on screen. Like Dev D, it is a great visual treat, very psychedelic colours, raw and with some awesome acting by each one of it’s cast.

And yet the movie leaves a bitter taste. Because the story punches you in the face. And you realize that for all your carrying placards on Marine Drive, lighting candles at India Gate, ‘change’ is far, far away. Because you and I, sheltered in our big city homes are so far away from where the political rot begins. Yes, student politics, especially in the hinterland. This story, though based in Rajasthan could be the story of any university, whether in Bihar , UP or even Delhi. The national leaders that we complain about, and want accountability for are actually survivors of rounds and rounds of violent selection. And by then the rot has set in way, way deep into their systems.

The story, say the credits, owes itself to the Guru Dutt song ‘ Yeh Duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai’. And that really is the biggest despair of all. If not this party, this candidate, who? And a simplistic ‘if you’re not happy with the candidates, why don’t you as the educated youth enter politics?’ is really not the answer. Because power corrupts. And anyone who has fought his way to the top would consider it his reward to be corrupt. I guess, we need to put in checks and balances that we provide this corrupting power to those who atleast have some semblance of minimum education and social hygiene levels.

I’m kind regretting not having watched his ‘No Smoking’. Can’t believe it was that bad.

The Girl Child is the new Saas-Bahu.

2009-03-17T13:16:00.003+05:30

Portrayal of social issues on national media is a good thing. But too much of anything is bad. Which is exactly what is happening. Also, the thought that most of these soaps are primarily to increase GRP ratings is disgusting.

I like Ballika Badhu. I think it is sensitively handled. But more than that, it came as a breath of fresh air, and was also executed with a lot of talent, whether it be the story or the acting. But the two new serials based on the girl child, on the same channel, are taking this to ridiculous heights and the follow up by Zee and Star is dismal. So we shift focus from hideously dressed, bickering saas’ and bahus to innocent looking, gut wrenching children. Not nice, I say.

And in the process I lose ‘Jaane Kya Baat Hui’ which was, if nothing else – nice. Different and simple. I’m not much of a television watcher. Even if I do, it’s restricted to movies, loads of sitcoms and forcibly CNBC TV 18. But I do follow a couple of serials, and this was one of them.

The number of hoardings dedicated across the city to these serials reeks of TV war. And as a consumer, somewhere, one becomes aware of the war. And I don’t like that.

P.S. We were a sponsor at one of the TV awards lately. The sight of that little girl from Ballika Badhu coming to accept her award in her costume from the serial was sad, atleast to me. The TRPs have taken over her life. Any peek into her real self will break the spell. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?

The Randomness Tag

2009-03-14T00:10:00.001+05:30

The world has probably and happily moved on to other tags, but since I’ve worked so hard on this one, for nearly a week, I am going to put this one up. The culprits in this case are DeeplyDip and Serendipity. But seriously, thank you guys, for I don’t think I’ve thought so clearly about myself ever. It’ll take some wading through. But do go through this list of 25 random things about me….

1. If hubby is really late from work or travel, I can’t, just can’t go to sleep till he’s home.
2. Most people think I have great smile. I agree!!!!:)
3. I love music. It uplifts my mood…always. I love dancing too.
4. I think Maggi should come with an ‘addiction warning’. I get cravings for it.
5. I need ice cream atleast 3 times a week post dinner.
6. I used to be very scared of the dark as a child. At night I HAD to cover myself with a sheet. I always felt there was something under the bed and if any part of my body showed under the sheet that ‘creature’ would chop it off and take it away!!!!
7. I’m a very friendly person. I get along with all kinds of people. And most of the times I make wrong first impressions about people. But I’m very generous with admitting that I’m wrong.
8. In fact, I’m very OK with admitting my mistakes. I don’t think there’s anything wrong in saying “You’re right and I was wrong”
9. I’m very, very house proud. I love doing up my home. I love inviting people over. Our home has always been the place friends come over to chill.
10. I was never an animal lover. That was left to my sister. Till Tubby came along. My sis got him home when he was 4 months, a furry little Pomeranian. Now I think dogs are the best stress busters ever. Their unconditional love can never be duplicated by any human.
11. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people. A very sore point with a lot of my friends.
12. I get very passionate about causes and also when I see someone doing something wrong. This leads to…ahem…scenes.
13. I’m very competitive. In everything. And a lot of times in my own head. So I will be secretly competing with someone in something and the poor person will not even know it.
14. I love the mountains. Before my marriage I’d never been to the hills for a holiday inspite of staying in Delhi. Hubby on the other hand had studied in a school in the mountains. So that led to honeymoon and all subsequent holidays being in Simla, Manali…the works. I fell in love with them. And today I feel, the only holiday that really matters is the one spent in the Himalayas. Errrr, I love Goa too, though.
15. I have obsessive compulsive disorder….only with gas knobs and door locks. Nothing else.
16. I believe in ‘me’ time. I love going for dinner, plays, window shopping all by myself once in a while.
17. I luurrrve shopping for cosmetics. In fact, I lurrrrrve shopping.
18. I love being stylish. For me it’s a way of life. Not fashion, mind you. Style. 2 totally different things. :)
19. I love mental challenges. So puzzles, games are a regular feature of my day.
20. I will at some point be an entrepreneur, again. I just know that. And this time I’ll be smarter. I’ve learnt from my mistakes.
21. I love the Toblerone shake at Mocha!
22. I love the saree. I think it’s the most elegant thing a woman can wear. Even though I don’t get to wear it often.
23. I always remember faces. And forget names.
24. In any discussion with anyone I will always, always loyally take hubby’s side, sometimes without even knowing whether he’s right or wrong. I’ll defend his point of view passionately. He rather adores that.
25. This tag has taken me 6 installments and almost a week to finish!!! Whew!
Not tagging anyone….No.

Frankly, I don’t think there’s anyone left who hasn’t done this already!!

Questions!Questions!

2009-02-28T15:17:00.004+05:30

Lots of tags and an award while I was away from the blog. Will take them all up. First to come up is a tag by Iya. And yes Iya, I think you’ll find some more similarities coming up :)

It’s a fun tag. I have to answer 50 questions about myself. So read on….

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
No…..I mean there are other people with the same name, but I wasn’t named after anyone particularly.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Couple of days back…sheer fatigue.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Oh Yes!
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Chicken……grilled
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Nope
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
YES, absolutely.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Sometimes, if I don’t like the person am talking to but not too often.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes I do. They were particularly nasty when I was a kid so mom took me to some homeopathic doc. They were fine for some 20 odd years. They are back now…….
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Maybe. I’m quite an impulsive, spur of the moment kinda person. I went rafting when I was suffering from a bad back, because I knew the chance may not come again for some time….so I don’t really know the answer to this one.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL
Cereal as in dal or cereal as in cornflakes? Well masoor dal in case of former and Kellogg’s Chocos in case of latter.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Yes!!!!
12. IF YOU WERE TO PICK YOU OWN FIRST NAME, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
My own…Dipika!
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Hot Choc Fudge…at Nirula’s ( Delhi). It’s actually a sundae. I think half of Delhi would respond to this question with the same answer.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Eyes…..ummm, also how they talk.
15. RED OR PINK?
Red, anytime
16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
I lose interest and patience very fast.
17. WHOM DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
My parents who are in Delhi.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
Of course. It’s fun.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Am wearing blue jeans and black wedge sandals.
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Some radio station….no idea which one
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Red
23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Fresh roses, also anything lemony.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Sis
25. HOW DO YOU KNOW THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
She’s one of my favourite bloggers….met her through the blogger space
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Cricket!!!!!
27. HAIR COLOR?
Black….two red streaks which are turning to a dull brown
28. EYE COLOR?
Very dark brown.
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No
30. FAVORITE FOODS?
Terrible question. I love food. But rajma chawal, mutton biryani, and spaghetti bolognaise top the list.
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings, always
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Dev D – LOVED IT
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Red T shirt – here we go again with this color
34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter – especially Delhi winters
35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs – warm, comforting ones
36. DESCRIBE YOUR PENCIL CUP.
It’s a cup from some promotion at Barista on which a sketch artist drew my face. It doesn’t look like me at all….but it’s still on my desk.
38. FAVORITE ARTIST(s)?
Kishore Kumar
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
The Marriage Bureau for Rich People by Farahad Zama – have just started it.
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
No mouse pad – am comfortable with laptop.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
Movie – Casino Royale – again!!
42. FAVORITE SOUND(S).
No sounds – in the hills on a holiday – total and complete silence. Man, I badly need a holiday.
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Andaman and Nicobar Islands
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I think I’m a very likeable person- I get along with people very well. Does that count?
46. WHERE WERE U BORN?
Kolkata
47. FAVORITE PIECE OF JEWELRY?
A very heavy kundan set. Belonged to my Grandmom. Mom gave it to me when I got married.
48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
We were classmates at Business school.
49. FAVORITE SONG?
Since there are so many, will mention the current fav – Genda Phool from Delhi – 6 and Nayan Tarse from Dev D.
50.Favorite Musical?
Sound Of Music.

The rule says I need to tag fellow bloggers, but am just feeling too lazy to do so. People, just pick up the tag. Especially if you have a blogger’s block. It will give you a reason to post.

Life's Crossroads

2009-02-25T09:43:00.002+05:30

She gazed unseeingly in front of her, her face mirroring her pain, her indecision. How had she allowed this to happen? Her eyes blurred. Her hands trembled. Oh, what was she to do? How had a perfectly nice, normal day turned into this….

No, she checked herself. She had known all along that today was the day. She had avoided it for too long. She had even gone to bed the previous night faintly dreading the rise of the sun. Because she had known at the back of her mind that she would have to deal with it today. Or it would be too late.

She sighed unhappily, feeling alone and lonely. There were people around her. Faces that looked happy. She looked into those faces, silently screaming for help. But no one heard.

She looked across at her husband, at that face she loved so much and her heart turned. Should she tell him? Should she burden him with her uncertainties. No, she decided. This was her cross to bear. And anyway, he had his own demons to deal with. She was aware of that. She looked down at her shaking hands. She had to take a decision, now!

Lotus Herbals Cocomoist Moisturizer – An all-purpose moisturising lotion that promotes soft, silky and smooth skin. Maintains the pH balance of skin and enhances its moisture retention capacity. Lotus Herbal Aloehydra - Rehydrates skin and enhances its moisture retention capacity. This special formula is quickly absorbed in the skin. Which, which, Oh, WHICH?

She looked at her husband, into his pained, questioning eyes. Colgate - Strong teeth or Colgate with Active salts for whiter teeth?

Drat supermarket visits! Double drat FMCG manufacturers!

Something's amiss!

2009-02-05T21:18:00.006+05:30

I'm generally a happy soul. So I know I'll find a silver lining to this cloud as well. But life right now is a bit upside down. And I don't know what's amiss. I think it's just a combination of some silly things. May I vent? Thank you.

Firstly, this whole office moving to the suburbs matter. So hubby and I now work at two different corners of the city. In Mumbai. That, ladies and gentlemen, is..well...not very nice. I spoke here about how we would travel to work together earlier. So inspite of leaving office at eight and coming back at 10, one was able to spend quite a bit of time together. And we sorely miss that now.

And then there's the whole Mumbai traffic, mumbai noise, mumbai pollution thing. This city has taught me to live life fuller. Somehow, I'm able to pack in much more into my day than I could in Delhi or any other city. And I really enjoy that. BUT, I wish life was slightly easier. I spend close to 2 hrs travelling...one way. No. I cannot take the train. I just can't. I'm not being a snob. I just can't. And so I travel by road. So that means the traffic snarls, the terrible pollution, the honking, the noise, crib,crib,crib....!

Of course then there's the usual business of new friends, new people, new social circle ( some very strange behaviour from old friends)

Sigh. I need to adjust a bit. It'll take some time. But then that's life, isn't it. Adapting, adjusting. Till you fit in.

In fact I'm feeling better already. Happy posts will be up soon.

Of Gyms and Television Actresses

2009-01-15T16:20:00.001+05:30

I have joined a gym. It’s right across the road from my office. It’s also dotted with minor and major TV celebrities ( Office has moved to the suburbs – the television industry thrives here).

And this is what happened yesterday.

I was on the treadmill. Had been for precisely 8 minutes. Huffing and puffing away. When I happened to glance at my neighbor’s face. Ok. I had seen her somewhere. I screwed up my eyes in deep concentration. Yes. Yes. Visions of a long, hideous bindi floated in front of my eyes. Of course! She was in one of those many soaps where a screechy woman would make life unbearable for the docile D-I-L of the family. She was one of those screechy women.

I suddenly realized I’d been staring at her. So I offered a smile. That’s when another curvaceous actor floated up. ( No. I couldn’t place her. I always remember faces. I just don’t remember where I’ve seen them – another post on that later).

“How much time?” said the curvaceous actor, obviously in desperate need of a treadmill.

“5 more minutes” I puffed

“At least 50” said screechy woman. “ I started only 15 minutes back”.

The curvaceous actor floated away, visibly disappointed.

I was impressed with screechy woman.

“An hour on the treadmill?” I asked. “That’s awesome".

She looked at me with distaste. Heavy women, puffing away at the treadmill obviously displeased her aesthetic senses.

But I was very interested in her gym routine. I need to lose weight. Here was this woman who, I was sure, kept track of each gram added or subtracted from her body. Hmmmm. Lots to learn. I could do an hour on the treadmill. If I broke it up into 4 sessions of 10 minutes each with a 5 minute break in between! Yes. Do-able.

“An hour on the treadmill.Yes, I guess that would be enough to get me back into shape” I said chummily, happily building mental images of shopping lists crammed with new, smaller, sexier clothes.

“No, that’s not enough. You need to follow it up with at least half an hour of cross training and an hour of weights. I don’t know. With your butt, you might need more.”

Ah, well! That eliminates screechy woman from my possible list of gym buddies.

Rab ne bana di jodi

2009-01-10T13:03:00.000+05:30

Hubby's take on the movie:

From Deewana to KANK, he's been 'stealing' other people's girlfriends/wives. This time he's 'stealing' his own!!!!

Completely idiotic and frivolous post.

2009-01-07T09:03:00.000+05:30

I think Wednesdays should be declared ‘off’. No, really. The new rule should be that you do not get out of bed on Wednesdays. You sleep right through it. What use are Wednesdays, in any case? You work on Mondays , Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. All very symmetrical and neat.

The Diva is seriously thinking of proposing this to the management. In form of ppt presentation and all. In the conference room. The Diva had once suggested this to her class teacher at the age of 10. It was dismissed, of course. For political reasons. Being of distinctly lower intelligence, the class teacher had not wanted to acknowledge the inspirational thoughts of the Diva and with cunning had rubbished the idea and brushed it under the carpet. But God paid the teacher back. Last heard, both offspring of the said teacher work at organizations which are open even on 2nd and 4th Saturdays. Hah!

Anyway, so coming back to the topic of Wednesdays, think of all the benefits that will accrue to mankind with this one simple act
1. We will save petrol: Oil is a depleting resource, scream headlines. Wars have happened over this very same drink of modernization. It is our duty to conserve fuel. Or our future generations will not be able to travel to work even on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays! Cut one day of travel out. Sleep.

2. Costs will be cut: Think of all the coffee expenses that the company will save. Go to your accounts department. Tell them to show you tea/coffee expenditures of the company. After you have recovered from the heart attack, start a petition. Get all employees to sign it. Attach said tea/coffee bills and take it to the management. The management will thank you.

3. You really think I’m going to give away all my arguments in a blog so public. Hah! People from work read this blog. Someone may just squeal on me. And then the management will have all answers ready. So the Diva is going to be cunning and keep some thoughts to herself.

I’m off now to make the presentation. It requires deep concentration and loads of time. Will keep you all posted on the developments.

Happy New Year, everyone

2009-01-03T15:39:00.000+05:30

It’s 3 days into 2009. The partying, the hangovers, the resolutions are all slowing down.

Do you know that feeling? When you’re really happy. It’s like there’s a song playing in your head. And you’re walking to the beat of that song. I want to walk through 2009 like that. And I’m going to work towards that kind of happiness.

I hope all of you have a great year too.

It's still happening

2008-12-27T12:26:00.000+05:30

On Marine Drive last night. I spotted them while cruising by in a taxi. I just had to go back and speak to them. And what warmed my heart even more this time was that these are youngsters who….. well…. personally I used to accuse of not caring. They still find time on a Friday night around New Years Eve to do this.

Cheers to you guys. I know this time that somehow, somewhere we will make change happen.

I've Disappeared......

2008-12-25T00:16:00.000+05:30

….from my own blog. Sigh! Work RULES my life right now! Change of management, change of role ( albeit a very exciting role and one I had coveted and gunned for!) Hectic. Mad. Crazy.

I realized at 7.30p.m. today, that IT’S CHRISTMAS EVE. Dropped all work, flew out of office, dragged bemused hubby from his office and went for a nice dinner and nicer dessert.

A MERRY, MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE and please be a Santa to someone. Someone who badly needs cheer in his/her life.

Tomorrow is a holiday. And there are at least 5 unfinished posts lying around. So you know now what my agenda is for tomorrow :)

Tomorrow I will also make plans for New Year Eve. And hopefully, like all New Year Eves, I shall be spending it with friends because that’s the best way to spend it. The club doesn’t matter, the food doesn’t matter ( err... the drink does!). All that matters is a place to sit together and talk, and let your hair down and talk about years gone by, and hopes and dreams for the year to come. And with people who care about you so you can let the warmth of their friendship envelop you.

Oh dear, I’m getting sentimental. And justifiably so. You see, I have received the Proximidade Award.
From none other than Iya. I like Iya. Her blog is very honestly written and from the heart. I also feel that somehow, somewhere I identify with her….difficult to explain, but she feels like a friend…someone I’ve known for very long. And hence to receive this award from her is doubly special because This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

I’m going to hold on to this award for some time……8 very special people will receive this award from me….. but in some time.

Right now…….plum cake!

Who lives in my building?

2008-12-18T02:43:00.001+05:30

The hubby and I live on the 10th floor of a building. But we don’t know anyone there. Can’t be helped, really. We rush out at 8.00 am and wearily trudge in at 10.00 pm everyday. Weekends are spent in quick runs to supermarkets, sleep, meeting up with friends and some more sleep.

So the only opportunity one gets to socialize is in the elevators! And women …well….talk. So I know everyone by face, name and other small sundry details like who has how many children, who’s children are in what school, etc etc. So I, at least get treated like a neighbor, unknown and mysterious, but tolerable neighbor nevertheless.

Hubby, on the other hand, has had some disastrous encounters. His friendly overtures in the lift are a treat to watch. One day, we had just stepped into the lift when the next door neighbor’s daughter came sashaying in. She’s 17. She smiled at us. We smiled back. How’s college, I asked. Cool, she replied. Hubby, deciding that he had to add his two bits to this cerebral conversation said, “hmmm, I hope you’re studying hard. Exams around the corner, right”? End of all polite conversation. We were suddenly in Siberia. Or one would feel from the cold looks we got from her.

“What did I say”? he said later, completely nonplussed.
“She’s 17, honey”, I replied.” You don’t talk to 17 year old girls like they’re errant kids.”
“But she is a kid!”
Sigh! “I know, but you never ever imply that.”
“Really, very rude kids.”

So now whenever we are in the lift with a youngster, I’ll do the small talk, while he’ll maintain stony silence.

And then today he kinda took the cake. While walking back from the car towards the building, I caught him smile and nod at this elderly woman rushing by.

“ Sweet Aunty”, he said. "I keep running into her in the lift".
“I know”, I nodded sweetly, “She’s the neighbour’s cook!”

I think the poor man is done with trying to get to know the neighbours!

I am absolutely overwhelmed.

2008-12-16T01:04:00.000+05:30

Another award. By DeeplyDip, who has two great blogs, It’s me and Styalogue. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.

It’s the Premio Dardos Award and acknowledges the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day.

And that, really, is what has touched me the most.

I started blogging only about 3 months back. Because I wanted to write. I didn’t know that I would get so addicted. For me, it’s a magical experience when a post unfolds in front of me. And since I’ve never really written before, sometimes putting thoughts coherently together is not easy. Sometimes in the middle of a post I will stop because I know it is not going the way I want it to, it’s not making the sense that I want it to ( errr, is that making sense?).

And I will unabashedly and unashamedly say that I want people to read my posts, enjoy them, connect with them, leave comments on them. It’s, like……..biryani. If you make great biryani, you would want people to taste it, enjoy it, and compliment you on it, right? Same, same.

So this award, as well as the Butterfly award and the tag that ‘A’ sent across mean lots. I’m a –glowing.

Oh dear, did I warn you to steel yourself for all this emotional outpouring.

Ok, ok, ok. Time for the rules of the award ......

Very simple…display the award, link back to the person who gave it to you and spread the cheer to other deserving blogs.

And with great pleasure I’m going to give this award to
Just call me ‘A’ : For being you. Even when you pass on an award, when I read what you have to say about the blogger, it is so encouraging and so insightful. I like you.

Hmmmm…. I know I should be passing it along to more blogs, but lots more to read before that…….

This week , dear readers, will go well!

18 things you didn't know....

2008-12-13T19:10:00.000+05:30

……about me.
Yes , I’ve been tagged. By Just call me ‘A’. Really, I like her more and more with every passing day. And I’ve told her that I shall do it in the evening, post some medicine and some sleep. But I can’t resist it, I have to do it NOW. So I'm going to start googling and saving the images atleast.

The rules of the Tag are that for every answer I have to do a google image search and use the picture that opens on the first page, with minimal explanation.

So here goes…….

1. The age you will be on your next birthday: Whatever the age …..
Chocolate cake is always welcome;)

2. A place you’d like to travel to: I’m a hopeless romantic…..
and Paris, I believe, is the city that epitomizes romance.

3. Your favorite place: 2 for me too
home

The Golden Temple, Amritsar.

4. Your favorite food/drink: This one’s tough. I actually had to ask hubby. He reeled off some 10 odd dishes. Oh dear, I so love food
But, Rajma chawal, made by mom on a sunday afternoon, is always the best.

Drink: non alcoholic
Fresh Lime Soda, sweet
Drink: Alcoholic
am not much of an alcohol person but beer I can have.

5. Your favorite pet: Dogs, without doubt.
I have a pom at mom’s place. He’s called Tubby. Due to non working Bluetooth on phone unable to transfer photo to laptop. Waah! I guess this will have to do.

6. Your favorite color combination: Red and Black, always
clothes, living room…….

7. Your favorite piece of clothing: The answer, dear friends, is so, so cliched
Jeans. Can live in them.

8. Your all time favorite song: Again, tough one, I love music
anything by him
also, Annie’s Song by John Denver

9. Your favorite TV show: F.R.I.E.N.D.S
I think I’ve seen each episode atleast 6-7 times, and can watch it all over again.

10. Full name of your significant other: hee hee
I would, but our man is shy of fame!!!

11. The town in which you live in: Recently moved.
Mumbai, a city that offers a lot of opportunities. I’d heard this. Now I believe it.

12. Your screen name/nickname: This is how you know me
Mumbai Diva

13. Your first job: I hated it.
As a client servicing executive in an advertising agency.

14. Your dream job: Oh, this keeps changing, but I love…
doing up homes, so a freelance interior decorator.

15. Bad habit you have: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
I check locks multiple times before leaving the house, I check the gas knob multiple times to verify that it is shut. It gets very irritating for me as well as people around me. The problem is if I’m running late or have something urgent on my mind, I forget to do this. Which means I can kick it. I just need some will.

16. Your worst fear: no brainer, this
Losing a loved one

17. The one thing you’ll like to do before you die: Live life to the fullest.
Travel, make new friends, earn more money….endless.

18. The first thing you’ll buy if you get $1,000,000: We’ve been house hunting for some time so….
A home. On the 20th Floor. In Mumbai. Where no noise can reach us. 4 large bedrooms.Wooden flooring. Large balconies. Space for a swing in one balcony. And kitchen the size of a small football field. Large glass windows…..And once I’m free from doing it up, I’d like to take a 2 months holiday to travel the world. And then I’d like to come back and start a small shop to sell whacky, quirky, one-off home accessories and gifty stuff.

Whew! That was fun. A Saturday (and Sunday! Because of the runny nose et al I had to keep taking naps) afternoon very well spent. Hubby, too, is sincerely thankful as cranky and ill wife would have made his life pretty miserable!

And now, I’m going to tag some more people. So here goes - Iya, Chandni, Silverine, Parul and WSW. Have fun, guys. And try doing it with the pictures. It takes more time, but it’s a lot of fun.

And now for some more medicines :( and napping.

Love Marriage vs Arranged Marriage

2008-12-10T01:57:00.000+05:30

What a corny title. And this, dear readers, was also the topic of Group Discussion at the Business school to which I finally gained admission.

At the ripe old age of 21, an institution for higher education, a Masters no less, made my option between love and arranged marriage and the justification for the same, the criteria for granting me admission!! I kid you not.

Wait. There’s more to tell.

2 minutes into the discussion, yours truly launched into a scathing and bitter attack on love marriages. Why, you may ask. Because, a couple of very bright pieces of competition had already made some very pertinent points in favor of the same. Now yours truly realized that, inspite of having absolutely no leaning towards either love marriage or arranged marriage, one could not possibly raise hand, say “Ditto” and settle down comfortably and expect to be admitted to this exalted and coveted institute of higher learning. No sir. One had to stand out. And that was possible only by being radically different. So one made very, very strong, original, statements like “ India is a society of traditions – here a marriage is a union of two families and not just two individuals”….yes,yes I said that. No wonder I sailed through. The competition was too busy stuffing handkerchiefs, dupattas into mouths and collapsing into heaps on the floor.

I forgive them. I believe them to be immature 21 year olds, who had come prepared to face cliched topics on economic liberalization, state of financial markets, export policies etc. Having to deal with a topic so mature, and even more a peer so sorted and correct in her views must have shocked and thrown the best of them.

Anyway, given the general merriment around and complete lack of discipline on the part of the other candidates (tut tut), the professor judging this entire circus ( and lucky for me, I realized later, with a quota of 3 to fill from each batch) had no choice but to let yours truly in. The two other bright pieces of competition who had had the good sense, and luck, to have opened their mouths before yours truly stole the show, were also let in.

It does not end here.

In this exalted institute, on the very first day, in the midst of being ragged, yours truly met a boy. 3 months later, as they say when they are 21, we were “going around”. And 6 months later, the pact to get married had been sealed.

Oops.

All this, of course did not go unnoticed by the bright pieces of competition. And till date, dear readers, married to that same boy, this blogger has not been allowed to forget her sanctimonious stand against love marriages. The story is now a part of the legends that reverberate in the halls of the institute. I believe role plays on this kissa is a must during ragging time. New comers, with much merriment, are introduced to this story.

I, on the other hand, am awaiting collective alumni amnesia.

Oooh! My First Award....

2008-12-09T03:34:00.000+05:30

I recieved the Butterfly Award. Yippie. My first award.

I've displayed it here; very, very proudly.
Thank you Just call me 'A'- http://color-me-sunshine.blogspot.com/

This feels absolutely awesome. And thank you for the encouragement to move on. I understand what you’re trying to say. Post coming up tomorrow :)

I started blogging only sometime back and absolutely enjoy the experience. And I really did not know that I would get so addicted to writing. But more importantly, I’ve had the opportunity to read some truly marvelous blogs. I’m amazed at the talent, the ability to weave a tale from the most ordinary of occurrences and most importantly to communicate …feelings, stories, poems…..

I’m still discovering blogs…through blogrolls, blog sites. I’m sure they are lots of great blogs I haven’t been through. In the meantime,I’m delighted to present this award to

1. Coconut Chutney - http://www.chutneycase.com/ : For the immense humour in your posts. They always make me crack up. The previous Saturday was spent reading up your entire blog. I’m a fan.
2. The Mad Momma - http://thebratthebeanandbedlam.wordpress.com/ : Awesome, awesome writing. And even more awesome insights
3.The White Rain - http://thewhiterain.blogspot.com/ : You were the first to comment on my blog. You’ll always be special. Haven’t seen a post from you in some while. Waiting to read…..
4. Public - http://public-ram.blogspot.com/ : For that one post so PG Wodehousian in character.

5. All that Jazz - http://strummingmythoughts.blogspot.com/ : For all the pain that you’ve been through. You deserve cheering. Chin up girl.

Please do display the award on your blogs, and much more importantly.....do pass the cheer on...

And now, I shall proceed to wake up just –gone- to- sleep- hubby to tell him this news. Wow! WOW!!

P.S. errr, next step - shall learn to link!

Gateway of India, 3rd December, 6.45 p.m.

2008-12-04T00:17:00.000+05:30

It was an SMS that started it. An SMS which encouraged Mumbaikars to collect at Gateway of India, today at 6.00 pm. It was picked up by the media and soon every radio station and newspaper in Mumbai was urging the residents to show their protest and non cooperation by collecting in front of the TAJ.

Practically all of us from office walked it there. There were some dissenting voices – how is this going to help? they said. I think it was about doing something. I think it was about a form of communication to the leaders that if we want to, we can come together as a collective force.

However after I reached there , I must reveal that I had very mixed feelings. While it was very heartening to see so many people, and very clearly from all stratas and walks of life, I was very demoralized by the complete chaos. There were too many different voices and the voices were not coming together as one. More importantly, I was disturbed by the angry cries against a neighbouring country. I did not agree with some of the voices that I heard there.

I don’t want a war against Pakistan. I want a better India.
I want an India which is free from corruption.
I want an India which has a vision.
I want an India that is able to build infra structure at speeds that can match up with the growing economy.
I want an India where the financial capital travels to work in super fast, efficient, air conditioned local metros.
I want an India where each citizen gets the quality of living his hard work deserves.

I want an India which is free from the fear of Mayawati becoming Prime Minister.
I want an India where decisions are not based on personal benefits, caste /creed differentiations.
I want an India which has leaders I can look up to.
I want an India which is forward looking and well planned for the future.
I want an India where some babu is not able to siphon off funds meant for free schools for the underprivileged.
I want an India that Europe travels to for holidays.
I want an India that is safe.

That, Mr Politician, is some of my wish list. And that is what I hope India is asking for. Once we have educated, forward looking, relatively(!) uncorrupt leaders, the rest will all fall into place.

This is the time to revolutionize and make Mumbai into a world class city. This is the time to revolutionize and make India into a strong, powerful nation that no one can mess with.

Each of us needs to pick one cause, one fight. Mine is RTI. What’s yours?

This blogger is drained. The last few days have left an indelible mark. Combined with terrible, terrible work pressure, I think I’m at breaking point. I badly need some cheer in my life right now. I think I will dive into a pile of PG Wodehouse over the weekend. And right now, I’m going to get some sleep. It’s been a long day, and a very disturbing week.

It's over, they say

2008-12-01T19:55:00.000+05:30

Yes, with that most graphic image of a terrorist’s body falling out of the window, the 62 hour siege ended. The siege did. The terror did not. And I sincerely hope the anger won’t.

But the political circus…ah that, dear friends, has just begun.

Heads are rolling. As they should. But my point is, they will be replaced by other heads. Others equally callous. Equally insensitive. Equally unqualified for the job. Today the country is baying for blood. Tomorrow the country will have client deadlines, road rage, children’s school admission problems, EMI issues…..what then?

Even today, I came to office after 4 days of watching the events unfold on television. 4 days of extreme anger, 4 days of planning agendas for starting movements. It’s 7.30 p.m. and not once have I had the time to think about my simmering anger. It’s there, somewhere, but in the background. I’m scared that it will recede further. I cannot let that happen.

We need to have an action plan. We need to channelize this anger. We need to convert it into a cold, constant movement.

We need to ask for fundamental changes. Educational qualifications for the politicians, public knowledge of spending by a govt body. Constant questions by known voices. Shobha De and Suhel Seth. Your speeches and writings are very inspiring but they need to continue, constantly questioning. We would like to see your presence on pages apart from page 3. The press has to constantly be responsible. Three days later, once all TRPs have been squeezed, if a model were to walk the ramp and her top were to fall off, what would be the headlines? I wonder.

I’m not being cynical. I’m warning you. Slowly, the world will move on. This will happen. And hence it is important for all of us to be prepared. Prepared to devote a small part of us for the fight. Because after all client deadlines, children’s admissions are important to only those who are alive. Not to those caught by a militant’s bullet.

When does this end?

2008-11-28T14:02:00.000+05:30

It’s begun to seem surreal. The mind has gone numb watching television. But I can’t seem to tear myself away from it. The need to know what happens next is critical. It seems like a long, unending, terrifying reality show……..

The chief minister has just strolled in …after 39 hours of the siege. There is no sense of urgency on his face or in his walk….. “This is an attack on the nation and not just Maharashtra”- and there, he just washed his hands off the responsibility of this bloody mess.

I have been hugely impressed with the coverage by certain news channels. I think Times Now, with Arnab Goswami at the helm of affairs, has been able to put together excellent coverage. It was extremely well co ordinated between the various sites of the siege. Some, on the other hand, were extremely shallow and irresponsible. India TV for instance. To put a call on claiming it to be the terrorist…really!!No coverage, only sensationalism.

But one thing is very clear. It has been a very well planned attack. These guys knew the layouts of the hotels. They’ve lasted so many hours. More disturbingly, they had the arms to last them for so many hours. Does this mean that these arms were smuggled in beforehand? Yes in fact it has just been confirmed that they were. It’s been more than 12 hours that we heard that there is one lone injured militant inside TAJ. He still hasn’t been cornered. Who are these people? Are they more inside?

40 hours? 20 militants?

But for once we did not negotiate. We took a stand against terror. I salute that.

Mumbai, India

2008-11-28T00:53:00.000+05:30

I don’t know whether my fear is more overpowering or my anger.

It’s been 13 straight hours that I’ve been glued to the television. And another 6 hours, last night.

What is unbelievable is the fact that it’s been 24 hours and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. The sad part is that there doesn’t seem to be any knowledge of who the attackers are, how many of them are there, and how many hostages they actually hold. But there is rage. A simmering amongst most of the people I’ve spoken to. A simmering against our so called leaders. A simmering against the unpreparedness for an attack of this nature. And a weariness against the phrase “spirit of Mumbai”. What use is spirit if you don’t know whether you or your loved ones are safe in the city. And, really, there can be display of “spirit” once, maybe twice. But, not again and again.

And while I am pained at all that is happening, I am very clear in my head about certain things. I blame the political system for whatever is happening in this country. It is a country poised to leap into the big league. It is a country where all of us work really hard to take it there. It is, unfortunately also a country of greedy, self centered, uneducated, apathetic political leaders. Who do not have the vision, the necessary qualifications or even interest to chart a path till there.

And this time I’m determined to do something about it. I cannot, like in some dramatic bollywood movie, change the system, become the Prime Minister for one day, beat up the baddies etc. BUT

1. I will vote. I will not be lazy and treat it as one of the many choices of things to do on a holiday. I will treat it as the reason for the holiday.
2. I will use RTI. Whenever I mentally question a particular action of a government body, whenever I am dissatisfied with the delays in infrastructure projects, I will not just sit and discuss it with friends and colleagues over drinks at some pub, I will question it legitimately and legally.
3. I will mobilize people to do the same. I will find out RTI procedures and mail to people. I’ll post scraps of it on Facebook. If it is lack of knowledge preventing us from taking action, let’s sort that out.

I’m guilty of being one of the many whose outrage at this particular incident is irrationally more than at the others. Because, this time, I was directly affected. These are places that I visit. Café Leopold is a place that we visit for after work drinks atleast once in a week. Oberoi is a stone’s throw from my office. And I left office at 9.30, 10 mins before the carnage began. So where is one safe? And it’s not just about Mumbai. Which city in India can boast of providing safety to it’s residents.

Watching images the TAJ hotel burning, I almost cried. It looked so lonely standing there inspite of the mayhem and madness around it, alone in it’s brutalization, screaming for help. My heart goes out for the people who have been through the terror of the past two days, who have lost their lives. If we have any iota of pain at what happened, and pride in our nation, we will do our bit to make sure that we demand security, we demand work from the politicians, and most importantly, we demand accountability from them.

Women and Financial Independence

2008-11-26T01:17:00.000+05:30

It was impulsive Fabindia day yesterday. I think it was a result of a combination of a bad case of monday blues and an opportunity to get out of office really early. Being absolutely clueless on what one does with life outside office at 5.30 in the evening , I wandered into Fabindia. Once inside, I behaved like one of those programmed robots. Go to sleeveless kurta section. Sort, sift, pull out 4-5 kurtas. Go to dupatta section. Find matching dupattas for all the kurtas. Go to trial room. Wait impatiently outside. Glare at the woman who finally comes out. Stagger in with the kurtas. Try. Try.Try. Walk out. Discard about 1/2 the haul. Rush to short top section. Sort, sift, pull out 6-7 tops. Go to trial room. Wait impatiently outside. Glare at the woman who finally comes out. Stagger in with the tops. Try. Try.Try. Walk out. Discard about 3/4ths of the haul. Walk to the payment counter, swipe credit card. Walk out with one massive brown handmade paper bag carrying goodies and a big satisfied smile.

No, dear reader. I am not taking you through my wild shopping orgies. There is a point I am going to make. Soon.

About 4 years back, I took a break from 9-5 existence. I had hoped, like a lot of us to carve out an entrepreneurial venture. Be my own boss. Let my creativity fly. Hubby stood by me like a brick. Supported me throughout. However, much to my annoyance, my dream project refused to make any money. I won’t get sidetracked into those sad details. The point is, I spent 2 years without a regular income. Along with my income, my confidence too dwindled. I could not walk into a store and spend on myself without feeling guilty. I have a great husband , who makes very decent money but there will come a time when he will look at the credit card bill, look nonplussed and say – err, more shoes?. It will kill you.

My mom was a housewife. Out of choice. Both, hers and my dad’s. The unspoken agreement was that she would concentrate on raising two great kids while dad would earn the daily bread. And I think, between them, the arrangement worked rather fine. However, when it came to spending my mom had her priorities straight. The home, the girls and then, herself. Now, as a 32 year old woman, I realize the magnitude of her small sacrifices. My point is, if mom had been financially independent, maybe her order of priorities would not have changed. But the absolute amount of money spent on herself would have gone up. If I were to take into account the hot meals, the patience with homework, the bedtime stories, childbirth, always a ear for dad’s venting…..I think mom’s salary would be huge. But she never got one.

I shut my store and got back into a 9-5 and today I realize the importance of that fixed but regular income. It gives me a certain freedom. With it also come certain luxuries which I feel I’ve earned. A great head massage at the end of a rotten week, unnecessary pink shoes, contribution to our savings. It gives me a certain attitude and a certain confidence. And a great sense of security.

I have 2 friends. One hates her job. But sticks it out bravely giving it the best she can. “ And do what? Ask hubby for some cash everytime I want to buy some cosmetics?”

And the second has just had a baby. She’s a talented designer who hasn’t looked at her computer once in the last 1 year. And won’t either for the next 10 odd years, maybe more. She’s genuinely happy being a full time mom. She’s ok with going to a store, looking at a piece of jewellery and mentally dismissing it.

They are both great women. They’ve both made their choices.

Comforting is……

2008-11-20T00:28:00.000+05:30

the feel of mom’s hand on an aching head
to hear “I understand” from a girlfriend after a bout of unexplained tears
to lie down on fresh bed sheets after a long day
to get the sms “ your salary has been credited “ on the 1st of every month
to get out of high heels after a tiring day
to sit down for lunch at 4.00 pm after a crazy, mad but successful meeting
Dad calling to figure out if I’m taking my medicines on time
to see an image of the Golden Temple on my laptop every morning
to hear my doggy’s bark over the phone from Delhi
to fit into a size M again
to come back home after a holiday, however nice it may have been.
to shop
to have Laxmi, my woman Friday
a hot cup of tea on a wet, rainy day
to have all home appliances in working condition at all times
to feel hubby’s arm on me every night before going to sleep

Guest Post by ...........Hubby

2008-11-15T15:25:00.000+05:30

He wrote this today morning and very endearingly showed it to me. I have no choice but to post it and even though I think there is a hint in there somewhere, I’m going to pretend I haven’t noticed.
……………………………………………
Thursday 9 am
Wife: “What are we doing this weekend?”
Self: Blank look. “ It’s Thursday today!”
Wife: Ya, I know. But let’s plan now. Let’s do something different.
Self: Beginning to look hunted. “ Different?”
Wife: vehemently “Yes. Let’s do something nice!”
Self : Driving faster. Need to deposit wife in front of her office ASAP.
Wife: Happily. “ You know we could meet up with the Tiwaris. We haven’t met them for a while. Or let’s go to Lonavala. We’ve not been there yet.” Distinctly warming up to topic now “ Or you know ……………
Self (thought process) – Oh no – not again --- lemme focus on what needs to be done first thing in office – meet up with 3 banks – close the discussion with another one
Wife: have you seen the latest pictures of Lavasa that I mailed you
Self :Huh !! – yes – but we will talk about it later – Groan!! – OK -- I need to think up something for the week end warna mein to gaya --- so what can it be – dinner ( we have it everytime ) movie – sounds good –but no good movies on currently --- SHOPPING !!! – yes let me broach this – “Honey, why don’t we go to bandra and shop ?”
Wifey – So sweet – lets do that and then we can have dinner somewhere – suggest no
Self (thought process) : Yes – one problem solved – dinner will be a piece of cake – “OK lets go to china town ,will have Chinese “
Wife: NO we just went there
Self: OK we will go to candies or Just around the Corner – snack it out
Wife: NO we went there last week and anyways I am not keen on having any salads
Self: OK lets go to Basilica
Wife: God conti – that’s where we went 3 days back
Self: ah! what about Moti mahal ?
Wife: Are you nuts – can you not suggest a better place?
Self ( though process) – Is there any cuisine that I have missed out – continental takes care of all countries in Europe/ N. America – Chinese--- all countries in asia – OK mostly ones who have flat faced people – Moti Mahal, Indian – Arre, this takes care of what 5.5 billion of the total 6 billion people on the planet eat – who is left – Africa – err – is there any African joint in bandra ?? “OK you suggest”
Wife – No – this time it’s your turn – you think of something!
Self– sigh – OK !

Holiday!!

2008-11-12T01:30:00.000+05:30

I have been on a holiday. 2 weeks of glorious departure from the ho hum life.

Firstly, of course, there was Diwali.

Diwali was enchanting. It was naturally, preceded by wild card parties. ( For the uninitiated, cards refers to Flash or teen patti, played religiously in Delhi and am sure some other bits of the country as well, during Diwali. It’s considered auspicious to play this. Personally, am a little skeptical of the auspicious bit!)

We were delighted to discover that the gang in Mumbai was equally receptive to this complete loose character type time pass and so every night, for the entire week preceding Diwali, 6-8 of us would sit, with stashes of money in front of us. Err ok, some few Re 10 notes in front of us …. all set for some earnest gambling, what with dimmed lights, cigarette smoke, beer bottles nonchalantly dotting the landscape and the, err, stashes of money.

Key learning of the week:

I realized I’m a terrible loser. Firstly, I suffer from an inexplicable and most ridiculous superstition. Every Diwali, I feel, my fate at cards is reflective of my financial gains/losses in the coming year. Yes, you needn’t curl your lip in disgust. I’m admitting it’s ridiculous. And stupid. And illogical. But it’s there. So, automatically, for me the game assumes very sinister proportions!!
Hence, if I’m losing, I get all cranky and ill tempered and generally behave very badly.

On Diwali, self and hubby, on advice of some kindly “I love Mumbai and want you to experience all unique things about it” type person, took off to marine drive at 10 pm on diwali night and were witness to the maddest of mayhems. Atleast 50000 people. Crackers under our feet. The most awesome of fire cracker shows and a traffic jam. All of the above co existed peacefully on that tiny stretch!

And then, post Diwali, one smartly took a week of annual vacation and toodled off to Delhi to visit parents, friends and doggy. A one day trip to one’s favourite place in the world- The Golden Temple in Amritsar and a 2-day trip to Mcleodganj was also stuffed in.

In effect, the two weeks of these indulgences have resulted in a weight gain of nearly 3 kgs and complete disorientation for two days at office ( “Oh, you still work here” seems to be the general comment on spotting one).

Heartbreaking moment:

6 am in the morning. Stuffing bags in taxi. Only thoughts of which God to pray to for not missing flight. All charged up to get back home and to work. Looking up to wave hurried goodbye. And catching three wistful faces, father, mother and doggy; forlornly standing in the balcony.

When you travel, darling

2008-10-22T13:17:00.000+05:30

I can have Maggi for lunch and Maggi for dinner
I can sleep without being pushed to one corner
I can apply nail polish without having to hear, “yuck, red?”
I can let clothes pile up on your side of the bed

I can try two outfits and dress up for work at ease
Without constantly listening to, “Can you hurry up, please?”
I have a loo to myself, sweet smelling and DRY
I can watch reruns all night of Ross breaking up with Rachel and cry

I am not subjected to conditions of the international financial markets
I can go to a mall and window shop for stuff other than squash racquets
I don’t have to deal with dirty gym socks every morning
May I please know when your next trip is darling?

Delhi vs Mumbai

2008-10-20T11:08:00.000+05:30

I’m tired of people constantly involving me in Mumbai vs Delhi battles. And I’m annoyed with myself for getting passionately involved.

Food/Restaurant Reviews

2008-10-15T18:32:00.000+05:30

Some of you reading this will be natives of Mumbai and some of you , like me , will be new to this crazy, mad city.

For those of you who are new here, and are still grappling with the shocking house rentals, even more shocking state of traffic…….there is hope, atleast if you’re a foodie. There are lots of really wow places to eat at. I’m a foodie and in the past 6 months I’ve sampled practically all that the city has to offer. So I will proceed to chronicle my experiences in the benefit of general mankind. Err, since no one is paying me to do this, I obviously cannot list out some 8-10 items from the menu and write profusely on them. However, the review will provide you location, ph nos, and a general idea of what the food/ambience etc is like.

These will be chronicled under the label MUMBAI RESTAURANT REVIEWS.

For the natives this can merely be, perhaps, an interesting read.

Missing Delhi

2008-10-07T18:56:00.000+05:30

I’ve been cranky all week.

It could be the viral. Yes, it has struck the Singh household! First the husband, and now, me. A 21 yr old co worker thinks that most romantic!

Or it could be….no it can’t ….or is it……..

“You’re missing Delhi”, says hubby, bluntly.

Oh all right. I’ve been avoiding admitting it to myself, and him and all friends, but it is true. I do miss Delhi.

I’ve been in Mumbai for exactly 5 months, give or take a few days. And a very exciting 5 months too. In fact, I love it here.

When the offer to move to Mumbai materialized, I was determined to like the city, no matter what, because I realized how important it was for him to move here. And, honestly, I didn’t have to try very hard. It was very easy to fall for the city. The minute you get off the flight - and especially if you land at night - the lights, the energy, the life…..it sucks you right in

BUT it’s October. It’s nearing Diwali. It’s the bestest time in Delhi. I love the way the sun becomes mellower with each passing day. Another 15 days and there will actually be a nip in the air. Leading up to a full blown, warm sweater, muffler in the neck, eyes stinging because of the chilly wind winter. Ooooh, I love it. Mom makes endless sarson ka saag. And there are these lovely Diwali fairs. My favourite is the Blind School Diwali Mela. You get lovely candles, decorative stuff for home, jewellery….. Every year, it’s a ritual, I have bought a lamp from the fair. And I’m going to miss it this time. Oh dear! I feel the sniffles coming on.

It’s the time to entertain friends around bonfires, or tandoors, carry mithai to people’s places to wish them and play cards all night long. It’s also the time to string your balconies with warm, very pretty lights and diyas.( I have checked out my Mumbai apartment for place to put my diyas and have come to the morose conclusion that I’ll have to give the whole experience a bye this time).

I guess I’m also disappointed with the fact that I’m not around to enjoy the infrastructural growth that Delhi has to offer now. The last 6-7 years have seen Delhi spruce up it’s roads, build a world class metro, dot the landscape with amazing flyovers and offer it’s residents a huge feel good factor. While I appreciate the Mumbai attitude of snoblessness ( is there such a word?!) when it comes to cars and other material goods I sometimes wonder if that isn’t simply because there is no time or space to enjoy them. Why would you buy a car that goes from 0 to 60 in 20 secs when you don’t have the roads to support that kind of technology.

Anyway. I will, I think, make a quick trip to Delhi SOON. Mom, dad, sis, doggy are all there. The saag is waiting. The air is crisp and inviting and I’m feeling positively miserable now!!!!

I had a nice breakfast today.........

2008-10-03T18:35:00.000+05:30

It was at a very nice, old establishment in South Mumbai. Very nice tea and yummy sandwhich. Just before office and the mad rush to earn the daily bread began.

Since I had been dragged out of home at an outrageously unearthly hour ( early morning meeting of husband ) without a morsel to eat, and had unceremoniously been dumped in front of aforesaid coffee shop, where was the choice? Food beckoned my indignant heart, and stomach, and I had to eat.

But the food is not my point. The point is I had it alone.

Sometime back, I caught an episode of Sex and the City devoted to how the lead character could not go out for a meal by herself without hiding behind a book….. I don’t know how much of a benchmark S and the C is or how typical it is of the day to day life of a young woman in India, even in the metros, but I’m assuming that somewhere there are similarities, at least in the feelings and the emotions. That bit I think is common all over the world.

So then, apparently, it is a bit of an uncomfortable situation for most women. Being out alone. You need the crutch of another person or, as in her case, a book. I asked a few women today at work. Most said they would not really dress up and go out – alone.

I, on the other hand, quite enjoy it. A movie, a play or even dinner. I have never let go of a play I wanted to watch for lack of finding people to go with. I once walked into a very fancy place in Bandra, all dressed up, and asked for a table for one. I couldn’t help it. Hubby was traveling and I really, honestly just wanted to be by myself. So this guy at the door gave me a very annoyed look. He had tons of people waiting and here was this woman wanting to hog a table by herself. Later one of the hostesses actually came up to me to ask why I was alone!?

The point is to be able to enjoy, let your hair down, and do what you want to do not because hubby is not in town/friends are not available etc etc. but because YOU WANT TO. Trust me no one cares if you’re alone sitting at a table enjoying a steak. No one pities you. A lot of them will admire you though.

I'm a Diva!

2008-09-24T12:47:00.000+05:30

Well…atleast in my own eyes. I’m 32 years old, weigh exactly 73 kilos, don’t even have a great hairstyle… but I’m a Diva.

I have a fairly ordinary life….by that I mean a very ok job, a loving husband, complete and total inability to wear high heels for more than 2 hrs at a stretch and a strange affinity to continuously buying the wrong shade of lipsticks/nailpaint.

I have at least 2 pairs of jeans, so old that even moths are refusing to hole up in them, which I have retained because I am hopeful that in the next 3 months I shall be able to fit my 34’’ waist into their 30’’ waists.

Every night, after a guilt inducing BIG dinner, I stand in front of my mirror, trying to figure out all the possible places the food could have gone and settled. And every morning…Oh all right, twice a week, I wake up, all charged to exercise. After huffing and puffing through two Surya Namaskars, I stand, happily, in front of the mirror again, convinced that my butt is looking smaller. I’ve kept this up for the past 3 years and all the while my weight has crept up from 63 to 73. Sigh! It’s hopeless.

Everytime I glance through a Cosmopolitan or an Elle, I am confronted with these women who have all consuming jobs, are married, with a couple of kids to boot. Apparently, all these superwomen have hefty pay packets, find time to go to a gym atleast 4 times a week, make sure super lunches happen for hubby and kids, and also have time to get their waxing done on time!

Let’s see how I score. Lunches……hmmm. You know, it’s not like I don’t try. But by some cosmic misunderstanding, when there are onions in my house there are no tomatoes/aloos/any other vegetable and when there is “ any other vegetable” chances are there will be no onions/tomatoes/aloos/all other vegetables!

I have a cook. She comes in every morning at Seven. Man, do I dread her. I open the door and cringe at her enthusiastic countenance. And everyday…it’s a ritual…..she opens the fridge and gives me a withering look. “ Aaj bhi koi sabji nahin hai! Main kya pakayegi?” I avoid her eyes. Really, the woman is getting paid to do nothing. I’d love to be in her shoes! Does she have to be so conscientious? I feverishly dig into the fridge. “ Tum rehne do,” she says condescendingly. “ Main kuch karegi” . I subside meekly and wait for my early morning cuppa. And swear to myself that I’m going to shop today. Vegetables, sugar, milk, tea, toothpaste. EVERYTHING. And how difficult is that? There’s a departmental store right below my husband’s office. I meet him every evening after work for the drive back home. And since my lord and master mostly makes me wait for at least half an hour before he condescends to descend from his 4th floor office, I can utilize that time, can I not? Today I shall shop. I look at the bai gloatingly when she comes in with the tea. Yes, today I shall shop.

My husband and I do travel to work together….and back. Our offices are barely 5 minutes apart. We get to spend some quality time together that way. So every morning we have a fruitful, loving discussion on the status of roads in Mumbai. The conversation, basically, goes somewhat like this

Me : You know…

Road : Crater!!

Him: Damn these roads. What is wrong with these people. Why can’t they make some good roads in this city.

Phone : Ring

Him : Arrey Sir . Kaisen Hain. Haan Haan milte hain. Let’s have lunch tomorrow. Aur sunne main aaya, aapke yahan promotions announce ho rahi hain…..good good. Haan work is fine…as fine it can be in these markets….drone..drone…(on the status of capital markets for the next 10 mins)

Road : Crater! Bump!

Him : Kya sir. Kya city hai. No roads. Haan let’s meet tomorrow

Me : Let’s do something nice this weekend.

Him : Haan Baby. You decide.

Road : Long continuous crater

Him : ?#@* Damn these roads. What is wrong with these people. Why can’t they make some good roads in this city.

Or something like that. Well, anyway, you get the gist. He claims he’s going into his work mode so I’m kinda receding into the background. Evenings are slightly better. That’s because he’s getting out of his work mode and I’m becoming the focus!!!! My poor, loving, muddled man. Multi tasking is clearly not his forte!!

Anyway, seeing that we are digressing big time, it’s time to let you on to the secret.
Why am I a Diva?
Simple. Because I think so.
Because I can stand in front of the mirror before a night out and think I look really hot.
Because I can sit in a taxi with my ipod on while traveling to a meeting and sing aloud and feel really happy
Because I always have time for my parents, no matter what
Because there may be no perfect dinner/lunch at my house ( damn, I still haven’t bought those veggies ) but my hubby does not complain coz he knows I work equally hard.
Because I believe in the principal that being a bitch is really not going to make me look more important.
Because I can be a bitch when required.
Because I can sit in my tiny balcony with a cup of coffee on a lovely afternoon and think – Thank God for all the love in my life and thank God for Life.