Monday, September 21, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Maybe I should blog more often...
I have a vivid picture. I clearly remember it was March…the only month with holidays sans homework; 20 days of full leisure and play. It began at 12 o clock or an even lazier hour of the day. I would sit with my assorted colors; crayons, pencil, water…all kinds…and with all patience and interest would devote ample time to thinking, drawing and painting… three hours later, when the bones cracked, the torso hurt and eyes squinted, I would sit straight all happy to see what I had created. It was quite a contrast- the dirty hands making a beautiful composition. It gave me a kick like nothing in this world. I would sprint to the market, happily fetch milk and bread, go to the park, swing like a monkey on the trees, play with my friends and just be happy coz I did what I liked the most. Sometimes I would behave crazily too. I would look at the painting at different time slots of the day to see if it looked any different in the morning light from the twilight light. 20 days meant at least 15 art works. It could be anything- a greeting card, a composition, a pen holder made of old boxes or a kaleidoscope made from mum’s broken bangles. Sometimes I wonder where those paintings are. Are they rotting in some filthy corner of a street or if they have adorned someone’s drawing room wall or simply biodegraded back into our ecosystem. However just a few of them are making for good lunch and dinner for a zillion bugs in some dark corner of the attic.
There were so many things that we did as kids, things that we liked. My brother played cricket with everything that he laid his hands on- spoons, chess pins, stationary… I painted, wrote poetry, my sister danced, tried a variety of wardrobe combinations and admired her endlessly in front of the mirror. She and I were really close. I was like a little guinea pig at her hands. She tried her short skirts on me, made me mount on the dining table and taught me the sleaziest dance moves. And beat this- I happily obliged!! It wasn’t really that difficult to be happy those days. Half an hour of chitrahaar a week had us humming for the entire week. There was a constant smile that flitted across our faces all the time making us look slightly demented but genuinely happy smiley souls. The mind was always thinking creatively. The nights seemed endless if I thought of an idea in the midnight that I wanted to pen down and couldn’t wait for the dawn to break and sit with my pen and paper and just let it flow. Sometimes I tied knots in my pyjamas strings that reminded me of the idea till the next morning. Every little painting, every little poem was like an Oscar for me. I flaunted it to the world.
It’s been ages I felt the hair of the painting brush, smelled the aroma of Camel watercolors. Why we stop doing things that simply make us who we are, that simply complete us and give us a sense of being, a sense of completion. Happiness has become so elusive these days!
Maybe I should blog more often. SIGH!!
There were so many things that we did as kids, things that we liked. My brother played cricket with everything that he laid his hands on- spoons, chess pins, stationary… I painted, wrote poetry, my sister danced, tried a variety of wardrobe combinations and admired her endlessly in front of the mirror. She and I were really close. I was like a little guinea pig at her hands. She tried her short skirts on me, made me mount on the dining table and taught me the sleaziest dance moves. And beat this- I happily obliged!! It wasn’t really that difficult to be happy those days. Half an hour of chitrahaar a week had us humming for the entire week. There was a constant smile that flitted across our faces all the time making us look slightly demented but genuinely happy smiley souls. The mind was always thinking creatively. The nights seemed endless if I thought of an idea in the midnight that I wanted to pen down and couldn’t wait for the dawn to break and sit with my pen and paper and just let it flow. Sometimes I tied knots in my pyjamas strings that reminded me of the idea till the next morning. Every little painting, every little poem was like an Oscar for me. I flaunted it to the world.
It’s been ages I felt the hair of the painting brush, smelled the aroma of Camel watercolors. Why we stop doing things that simply make us who we are, that simply complete us and give us a sense of being, a sense of completion. Happiness has become so elusive these days!
Maybe I should blog more often. SIGH!!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Carpe Diem...
...was the mantra of the Pindy P-a-h-t-y!
Yesternight revealed the SPIRIT-ual side of every one- SPIRITS like Vodka, Pina Colada, Bloody Mary, Screwdriver (ahem!!) Blue Label (Vinay has his second heart attack) and many others that I can’t even phonetically articulate!
Just a few post party thoughts-
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Tuhin – WOW! I have taken Vinay’s pictures. Will morph and make a raunchy MMS and mint some money!
- Suhas- Rasik Balma (his new gmail status!)
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Richa- Vegetarianism is the way to go! (Lokesh concurs!)
- Anirban- Pappu CAN dance sala, only after downing a couple of drinks, teehee!
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Aoneha- Damn dancing- it washed away all my layers of make up- foundation, rouge, mascara and exposed my real SULTRRRY, SEXXXXXXY and sweaty self! Ouch!
- Paran- What the Hic was that?
- Vidhi- Did I really buy a top before the p-a-h-t-y?
- Priya- Piyo Pilao, life banao!!
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Lokesh- An ultimate cross between chamiya and ‘Aee Sala’ Mithun Da!
- Megha- I must be so drunk- It wasn’t a pole but a bloody WALL!
- Rajat- Happy is my middle name!
- Vinay- Who the fuck guzzled two Blue Labels? My weak auricles and ventricles are still hurting!!
Yesternight revealed the SPIRIT-ual side of every one- SPIRITS like Vodka, Pina Colada, Bloody Mary, Screwdriver (ahem!!) Blue Label (Vinay has his second heart attack) and many others that I can’t even phonetically articulate!
Just a few post party thoughts-
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Tuhin – WOW! I have taken Vinay’s pictures. Will morph and make a raunchy MMS and mint some money!
- Suhas- Rasik Balma (his new gmail status!)
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Richa- Vegetarianism is the way to go! (Lokesh concurs!)
- Anirban- Pappu CAN dance sala, only after downing a couple of drinks, teehee!
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Aoneha- Damn dancing- it washed away all my layers of make up- foundation, rouge, mascara and exposed my real SULTRRRY, SEXXXXXXY and sweaty self! Ouch!
- Paran- What the Hic was that?
- Vidhi- Did I really buy a top before the p-a-h-t-y?
- Priya- Piyo Pilao, life banao!!
- Chandrima- Mayya Mayya
- Lokesh- An ultimate cross between chamiya and ‘Aee Sala’ Mithun Da!
- Megha- I must be so drunk- It wasn’t a pole but a bloody WALL!
- Rajat- Happy is my middle name!
- Vinay- Who the fuck guzzled two Blue Labels? My weak auricles and ventricles are still hurting!!
Monday, June 30, 2008
In Shape...!
Six months back I was in shape. Yes round is a shape. Six months hence, I am thankfully in shape. Kudos to my gym instructors Aditya and Darshan who have a sadist pleasure in making me do some hazar abs and hours of cardios. The funny bit is that every time you tell them you can't do a certain exercise, they have this Nile-long "you-loser" kind of smile that embarrasses the little mickey in you. But it has worked at the end.
I have lost some 5 kilos and 3 inches.
I can happily fit into my old jeans. I can atleast think (if not eat) of food and not put on weight and most of all, I no longer have to tuck my tummy in and hold my breath every time I run into a beautiful girl in the elevator or elsewhere.
I am enjyoing my new shape. :)
I have lost some 5 kilos and 3 inches.
I can happily fit into my old jeans. I can atleast think (if not eat) of food and not put on weight and most of all, I no longer have to tuck my tummy in and hold my breath every time I run into a beautiful girl in the elevator or elsewhere.
I am enjyoing my new shape. :)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Get Together!
my father is dead, hardly two hours-
his body stone-cold,
gently blending with the coldness of the marble,
his mouth agape, eyes shut
some old woman wails in the background
amidst which, gives a thousand instructions, sometimes angry, sometimes irritated~
"get some fresh flowers"
"the oil is on the top shelf"
"curd is in the refrigerator"
and with every new entry in white,
she instantly resumes her dramatic wailings
my brother is on the phone convincing relatives to pay a visit
the man on the other side has a genuine reason for not coming~
his whites are in the laundry
a gentle man looks genuinely shocked...
he says~
"what a gem of a human being he was..."
and the next moment he looks around for a cup of tea...
i even hear gems like~
"only two slices of mangoes in lunch today?"
during my father's months long illness
i didn't see a soul
strangely at his death, i see the entire world
huh! what a get together!
his body stone-cold,
gently blending with the coldness of the marble,
his mouth agape, eyes shut
some old woman wails in the background
amidst which, gives a thousand instructions, sometimes angry, sometimes irritated~
"get some fresh flowers"
"the oil is on the top shelf"
"curd is in the refrigerator"
and with every new entry in white,
she instantly resumes her dramatic wailings
my brother is on the phone convincing relatives to pay a visit
the man on the other side has a genuine reason for not coming~
his whites are in the laundry
a gentle man looks genuinely shocked...
he says~
"what a gem of a human being he was..."
and the next moment he looks around for a cup of tea...
i even hear gems like~
"only two slices of mangoes in lunch today?"
during my father's months long illness
i didn't see a soul
strangely at his death, i see the entire world
huh! what a get together!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
I am bored stiff!
You know there's so much to do in life...but offlate I have been too demotivated to do anything. It's funny that post 25, you start losing interest in everything around you. Complacency becomes your second name. I just don't feel like doing anything- no work, no talking, no writing, no reading....just nothing at all! It's a very funny phase of life. I so want to write a book, do a show on TV, produce my own TV shows and so much more...and here I am, like a bloody dead pan, wanting to hibernate somewhere till eternity!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Happy Birthday SID!
Gawd he is celebrating his 28th birthday today...and I am smiling my big shark smile. I am sick and tired of running into 18-20 year old interns in our office and it gives me a lot of sadistic pleasure to know that some one, miles away is ageing as fast as me. Teehee!
Sid is not only my best friend, he is my simian twin! I don't remember our first moments of friendship but it started in the classroom (6th), budded during games period and was a full bloom when we passed out school. Sid and I hated sports. When the entire class played football, we stood behind one of the goal posts, under a tree, wow-ing at the crawling black ants and counting wild mushrooms around. Our discussions as irreverent as our mutual crush on Sri Devi and as stupid as the number of hair strands in Sir Vijay's moustache.
Then there were art classes. We both were the Michael Angelos and MF hussains of our class. Though Sid was good. He was bloody good man. Art runs in his blood as aunty ji is an arts teacher. Sid always helped me in the subject. I had a wild imagination and he helped me put it on canvas. I can never forget those wintry mornings when we spread across the lush green grounds of the Army public school to participate in NAFENS, a poster making competition. I loved using his colors and he never fretted. In fact he gave his final touches on my painiting after he was done with his.
And then there were afternoon fridge raids at his house. Aunty ji caught her siesta in the background and we roasted Britania slices, all red and crispy, slapped it with sinful layers of cheese and stuffed it with some irresistable Haldiram namkeen. And as we gobbled the most unhealthy snack of the world, the microwave made some frog-hopping sounds in the background popping some really delicious corns. Sid's lunchbox too holds a vivid picture in my mind, a white one with a colorful cartoon character on it. And the insides were more interesting than the outsides- world's best French fries that could give any Mc Donald's or Nirula's a run for their money.
Prima facie it might appear as yet another stupid silly childhood friendship but to me it means so much more- a sense of belonging, a feeling of acceptance, amazing compatability and most of all a large-hearted gem of a friend- Siddharth!
Love him to death!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SID!
Sid is not only my best friend, he is my simian twin! I don't remember our first moments of friendship but it started in the classroom (6th), budded during games period and was a full bloom when we passed out school. Sid and I hated sports. When the entire class played football, we stood behind one of the goal posts, under a tree, wow-ing at the crawling black ants and counting wild mushrooms around. Our discussions as irreverent as our mutual crush on Sri Devi and as stupid as the number of hair strands in Sir Vijay's moustache.
Then there were art classes. We both were the Michael Angelos and MF hussains of our class. Though Sid was good. He was bloody good man. Art runs in his blood as aunty ji is an arts teacher. Sid always helped me in the subject. I had a wild imagination and he helped me put it on canvas. I can never forget those wintry mornings when we spread across the lush green grounds of the Army public school to participate in NAFENS, a poster making competition. I loved using his colors and he never fretted. In fact he gave his final touches on my painiting after he was done with his.
And then there were afternoon fridge raids at his house. Aunty ji caught her siesta in the background and we roasted Britania slices, all red and crispy, slapped it with sinful layers of cheese and stuffed it with some irresistable Haldiram namkeen. And as we gobbled the most unhealthy snack of the world, the microwave made some frog-hopping sounds in the background popping some really delicious corns. Sid's lunchbox too holds a vivid picture in my mind, a white one with a colorful cartoon character on it. And the insides were more interesting than the outsides- world's best French fries that could give any Mc Donald's or Nirula's a run for their money.
Prima facie it might appear as yet another stupid silly childhood friendship but to me it means so much more- a sense of belonging, a feeling of acceptance, amazing compatability and most of all a large-hearted gem of a friend- Siddharth!
Love him to death!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SID!
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