We come with knives

we come with knives
me and you,
to know each other a little more
beneath the wood painted flesh
exposing the bloody sinews
peeling a layer at a time
loving and scarring

the stare whips me and the soul
until the knife hits the concrete
the same we breathe in this city
the disguises are getting thin
excuses being torn away from the skin

we come with knives
me and you
to caress the iridescent dreams
and to pluck the memories
those sepia toned threads
knotted into my heart
like a serpent on a twine

raindrops like needles searing
melting the knives we came with
melting the wood paint from our flesh
brand your name on the concrete
of my heart

P.S. I am linking my poem to Imaginary Garden With Real toads

Pain

Delusion makes us form compelling belief..everyone wants a life free of pain, but very few have an extraordinary threshold of pain, the funny thing is all mighty has an uber sensitive method of identifying them among the ordinary. Phosphorescence is what their mind experiences when they are given successive bouts of pain. They repeat to themselves that its just another day down the hill, they forget that when you are rolling down the far side of the hill things tend to fall apart at an alarming rate. Its time like those where two roads fork out. One which sinks us in the putrid sea of conscienceless people just going in with the flow adding to the stench. The other which allows us to pick our dropped guts from the floor, forget our selfish existence and look up to a belief and cause which is magnanimous, much larger than our individual self. The time has come for the immortal purpose to take over the mortal desires. Bless me.

An ode to my ill-wishers.

Another birthday, another year and this year I want to take a moment out of my super busy schedule and thank some people I have never acknowledged.
All those who hurt me intentionally or unintentionally I thank thee all for you made me resilient and resistant to hurt .
All those who made such fake and hollow promises that put a silver bell to shame I thank thee all for you made me stronger.
All those who pushed me and watched me fall hard I thank thee for you made me want to stand taller.
All those who took pleasure in my failures and my pain I thank thee for you made me strive for success harder.

The transformation in my life has always been dramatic, from a shy, reserved and introvert doctor I have become strong,confident and a dedicated soldier and I have all these people to thank for that. I would have never achieved what I have today without a push from all of them so a genuine thanks to all of them.

King Khan spoiled it all!

I hate shahrukh khan,!! even I am unable to believe this blasphemy I uttered, but to be true he has ruined romance for me (and 10000000 other girls). He came and he changed the definition of love for million of years to come. Such a pretty picture was painted that every girl morphed into Simran waiting for her Raj to come and save her, who never really existed and is as mythical as harry potter(oh please!! dont tell me you were waiting to enlist at Hogwarts, and wipe the tears.)

1.DDLJ- I really shouldnt be explaining why I picked this to be the first glorifying example. When I saw this one I was literally in love with him,ultimate bad boy transformed into a dedicated lover. If only some guy did half of the things he did to win Amrish puri, he would get double the love Raj got.
I mean who travels all the way from London to Punjab just because of a whimsical cow bell and that too for a girl whose marriage is fixed to a hatta katta punjaabi munda. In real life if you ask your guy to pick you up from airport, all you are getting is a 1000 word explanation as to how important a meeting is for his career which is taking precisely at the same time same day, and how his absence will crumble the foundation of his billion dollar company (and no, your guy isnt Mark Zuckerberg!!)
Who dons a dhoti and feeds pigeons to impress your dad, and god for bid if you ask him to leave non-veg for one day or visit FRENDLICOES, all hell will break loose.
No, Raj doesnt exist in real life, ofcourse if I had known this earlier, I would have put a halt to all my stupid, idiotic baseless imaginations. But no, SRK had to play Raj, he had to play mandolin, and he had to say in his chocolate rich voice "Bade bade shehron me aisi choti choti baatein hoti rehti hain senorita." sigh!!!!

2.KKHH-UFF!!! this movie came when we were kids edging towards puberty, talk about crucial timing. the movie changed a lot of perceptions about friendship, love. every tom boyish girl believed she had a chance with the stud of the class (overlooking the fact that for this to happen the glamorous diva of the batch had to die)
In real life studs/playboys/casanovas dont even give a second glance to the tomboy/geeky topper of the class let alone fall in love.
 Rahul and Anjali became teen icons, not to forget the huge economical profit gift shops made out of selling friendship bands. Then again Rahul was the doting father, loving son and faithful husband surviving on the memories of his dead wife. In India 90% of the guys remarry sooner than later if their wife expires that young. The cherry on the cake was his love for Kajol.
Yahan 1 se saccha pyaar kar nai paate, kaha do se karenge..huh.

3. Jab tak hai jaan- Aah, this film invited a lot of criticism but me being a loyal fan thinks he gave competition to a lot of actors who are half his age. Anyway, coming to the hate factor, none of the waiters I have come across in my life have ever been so charming or so handsome that I feel like sharing my past with him.Then Im yet to come across a guy in real life who sings with such panache and looks so hot while doing so. The most disappointing fact was this that no guy willl ever choose diffusing bombs willingly if he is dumped by a girl, on the contrary he will start his search for another one soon. I mean I would  literally kill to have a guy like that who would go to that extreme for me, sigh!!
On top of that sexy damsel like Anoushka Sharma throwing herself at him and all he does is a puny kiss on the forehead. Haah! in your dreams, the moment a guy finds a window to cheat, he flies out that window leaving caution behind.

4.Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi--Oh! Surinder Sahani had me eating out of his hands when he wrestles with the sumo wrestler. Yeah he wasnt SRK'ish in that role sans the rugged looks and with that horrible handlebar Moustache. Credits, goes to him for being sweet , loving caring husband who wouldnt even consider touching his wife without her permission. Whereas most of the guys sit patiently throughout the wedding ceremony just because they know they will pounce upon their unsuspecting wife on their first night, what about her permission...well what about it?? The other character Raj, comes learning dance totally contrary to his otheriwse simple nature just to make his wife happy..most of the guys dont know about that concept..the wife's happiness...
Aah, if only men like that existed...!!

5. K3G- OHO..the powder blue suit, coiffed hair, the dimpled smile the suave attitude..I could go on for lengths without taking a breather. Black is meant only for 3 people--Shahrukh, SRK, and King Khan. He was a fathers delight, all disciplined and ready to take over the multi million empire (ofcourse I could never understand where exactly in Delhi are such luscious hills located where stood amitabh bacchans grand palace and how did Kajol run all the way to his palace from chandni chowk to deliver sweets) .
then comes the BAMMM , he falls in love with the middle class simpleton Anjali and leaves his multi million corporation. Lemme clear the air, first biggies like those never ever visit their maids house, no matter how nice they are. Second love stories like these only exist in our imagination with a happy ever after ending. Although he looked absolutely edible in those transparent shirts which could have spelled fashion disaster for any one else..

I can rant incessantly for hours pointing out the shortcoming of guys we ladies have to face in real life but that would be inconsequential as it would have no effect on their thick as leather skin.
Whom am I kidding? Shahrukh Khan will always be my first ever love no matter he keeps playing these larger than life, impossible to find characters.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

courage changes us.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss.
                                    -Rudyard Kipling.


Courage has many forms and shapes, it exists in fighting the sytem, it stares at us from the faces of the orphan kids cleaning our cars, you can dig the courage when you talk to the mother whose only son has been declared a martyr.
We dont need to look for courage, it breathes in us.
We exude courage when we let go...when we let go of our past.
We become braver on a daily basis when we let go of the grudges we hold, when we let go of the wrong done to us.
But we become most courageous when we let go of our loved ones, knowing well that may be they were the ones who loved us the most, consoling ourselves that may be its for the best that they left us.
Courage has many forms and shapes. We think we are done when the tragedy befalls, the sympathetic stares, the encouraging nod and we feel nothing convicting ourselves and throwing our depraved souls in the gallows of woes. The courage comes to us when we start healing, and it might not be immediately or there after but when we pick our selves and start from nada. 
Things always happen for a reason, sometimes we get to know the reason and others it might remain obscure for a lifetime. Things change, people change, circumstances change, feelings change but everything transpires because of a reason. Its a myth that we are weak, coz we are not, God made us strong enough to endure anything and thats how he loves us. Its a myth that we give up coz we never do. We fall, we fail , we flounder but we get up again, we succeed, we rectify our mistakes but in reality we never give up. We think we will not survive another catastrophe but when the time comes we do, day after day, tragedy after tragedy without ever realizing our true strength. Ofcourse we get help, we get support but nobody can live your life for you. Its always upto us to decide how much is too much and we have an uninhibited option of saying nothing is too much and i will never give up.

The dream!

100th post finally!! I know its not a unique, out of the world, first ever achieved kind of a thing but if you look closely, this is a first for me and hence a reason to clink champagne glasses n jump mad with joy. 3 years ago when I started my blog I was damn sure I would quit on pretext of hectic schedule(i still use Im-a-busy-doctor excuse for not reading blogs.) But here I am, penning down my 100th post, proud as a parent.
I have ranted on my blog, shared not-so-fictional stories, etched esotric poems absolutely about nothing(sometimes even I did not understand what I was writing), but I was losing sleep over what to share for my centurian post. Till date very few of my readers(not that I have millions) know that I am a doctor by profession and the dream Im about to share with everyone is one whose seeds were sown by one of my close colleague while working in Fortis hospital as an RMO 3 years ago.
MRCOG, trust me its not as brusque as it sounds. Member of royal college of obstetricians and gynecologists, NOW do I have your attention ladies and gentleman?
This is one of the highest accolades in our line of profession one could reach, and a much coveted "royal" added to your educational qualification serves as a cherry that too on a royal cake.
RCOG was founded in 1929 by William Blair Bell and Sir William Fletcher Shaw, and since then it has left no stones unturned to improve the reproductive health scenario both for women and children.
It is relentlessly labouring to dispel myths in reproductive health through a multi pronged approach of researches, experiments, surveys and publications.
A plethora of successful publication already exists on its name and the number is steeping up on a daily basis, thus proving a successful tool for widening our knowledge base.
To be honest and absolutely candid its the thought of becoming a member of royal college of obstetricians and gynecologists which can make one go through several sleepless and unrelenting nights of hard work. Its a dream, as poignant and vivid as a ballet performance. This also becomes important because of the fact that 3 years ago I missed a crucial opportunity to gain commonwealth sholarship due to a personal loss, this seems like my chance at redemption.
Though I cant classify as a well travelled person,still Im a traveller at heart. United Kingdom is rich when it comes to culture and history and experiencing and exploring it will be an experience worth getting chronicled. The thought of being in a different country, melting in a different culture is mesmerizing. Who knows I might get Sher-locked and bump into him on 221 baker street, sigh! The fact that UK doubles up as a doorway to Europe is an added advantage. I have already taken few small steps towards that dream. When you combine all in all , all you can say is Knowledge is not just great, but greatest.

This post has been written in association with indibloggers contest Knowledge is great. 

Hair woes!!

Whenever Indiblogger introduces a new contest related to hair, my heart literally skips a beat and my eyes get glazed (no, not the drug affected glaze). My eternal optimistic heart thinks, finally there is a hair product which can be my knight in shining bottle (oops!! armor), but every time despondent result awaits me.
First, let me introduce you to my hair which apparently has its own personality, and that too a split one (no pun intended). You can understand it better when I tell you it has an attitude which can put a punk ass teen rebel to shame. I have straight hair (I know most of you who know me by face will race an eyebrow as most of the times its ugly curly, you know bending-in-any-damn-direction-it-prefers) and its not even celebrity like poker straight. Its more of a pigtail straight (I dont have an exact idea what does a pigtail look like, but im sure its not good). I was happy till it looked like this, you know long straight and silky.

 The cliched "all good things come to an end" came true and my beautiful, long hair got cursed. I suffered a horrible disease called alopecia and within a month I was getting clumps of my hair in my hand (no tears please, I dont have a concept about how much info is too much info). The sad incident forced me to snip my hair short and each time my hairdresser snipped, my heart crunched a little under the damned scissors.
The unfortunate incident occured near my board exams and considering the kind of status symbol it is for our percentage-hungry parents, I was not given time to mourn. So I wiped my tears and took bits and peices of my leftover pride in the quality of my hair. Little did I know that there was about to be an added insult to injury. The hairfall continued and the quality deteriorated so much so that I had to resort to a bob, envious of long hair of my batchmates.
The worst realization dawned on me in fairwell when my bob cut stuck out as a sore thumb on my traditional saree. Till date I cringe whenever I flip through those old photographs.
Time flew with speed and I compensated my inferiority complex due to my hair by excelling in every co-curricular activity (In a way I thank those days as this was the time I became enthusiastic about writing.)
Though lack of my original shiny , long raven hair haunted me every now and then. School changed to medical college and things did not get easier for me only I resorted to philosophical attitude that physical appearance is just a superficial trait and its inner beauty which defines a person. The cracks in the philosophy used to occur on occasions like fresher party, farewell where I had no choice in hairstyle but to pull them back and clamp.
After every photo session I got asked "Why have you put oil?" and I had to restrain my self from screaming. To avoid getting clicked I used to play photographer and hence Im missing from most of my college pics.
My obsession with bad hair days was so intense that I never left home without a comb in my handbag, and god for bid if I forgot I never stepped inside a trial room for the fear of ruining my hair.
I cringe everytime I read poetries and verses written by the smitten lovers praising the lustrous locks of their beloved. Im never getting a poem written about my hair and the eternal romantic in me sighs at that thought.
I remove the photo tags from FB and social media as in most of the pics my hair decides to play the villain.
The height of obsession can be judged from the fact that while In a rafting trip, I was so much focused on my hair not getting wet that I missed the whole fun.
The only positive thing that comes out of all this hair-hulla is the fact whenever I clean my room, the amount of hair i sweep out makes me feel im living with a bunch of girl friends. but whats the use of hair if the comb and floor has more than on your head.
I miss the feel of wind in my hair while riding my two wheeler, as most of the times my hair is tied up. I hate wedding functions since I do not know what to do with my hair. Recently I bought a woollen cap for rs 2500/- on pretext of cold wave only because it made my hair look good (I know, mea culpa!!! )
Only God knows how many time I had to force stop myself from walking up to random girls and guys in metro asking them the secret to their quiffs and manes.
The tirade is a never ending one , not till I find a permanent solution to my hair till then the sad story will continue.
I want my long, shiny manageable hair back at any cost. I want recharged hair back. Is it too much to ask for?
So far , so Good.

This post is written for Indiblogger's Recharge Your hair, Recharge your life contest in association with Sunsilk.

Saakshyaa.

The story did not begun the day I first spotted her on the isolated bench of the central park, fidgeting with a shriveled neem twig. She was definitely waiting for someone, the way she craned her neck every now and then made it evident. Everything screamed “average” about her, the simple lemon yellow kurta, beige floaters and thin gold chain around her slender but middle aged neck. The only thing which struck odd to me was a sparkly platinum ring brilliantly adorning her finger. The writer in me instigated me to have a conversation with her, to build a story around her greying , wispy flicks and to conjure a character based on the out of place ring. But the story did not begun that day.

The story began when I spotted her again on the same bench, wearing same kurta , same floaters and same expensive ring. She was scanning the crowd again, though not in an anxious way. I wouldn’t have recognized her had she not wore the same semblance. I don’t know it was my writers’ instinct or the feminine one , but I knew those eyes had a story hidden behind them.

“Hello! I have often seen you in this park. You live nearby?”

“No, no I live in Dadar west.”

“That’s too far to travel to visit such a lame park.” I joked.

She smiled , actually a wisp of a smile.

“Five years ago, this used to be a pretty sight. Cut out bushes, dog-flower lined pavements and jamun trees.”

“Five years??? You have been coming here since then?” I couldn’t hide the question in my voice.

“I just come here on 2^nd of every month.”

“ Any specific reason?” I prodded.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked, again with a sliver of a smile.

“ Curiosity.” I lied.

“I hope you are not looking for a story or some inspiration.”

“How on earth…..”  I was interrupted in mid of the sentence by a full ear to ear grin, followed by a hearty laughter.

“You think I hadn’t noticed you with your oversized writers’ bag, that writing pad and pen, observing everyone keenly.”

“Okay! I promise I will not write a story, but now honestly the curiosity is killing me.”

“I will tell you the story, its been ages I shared this with any one, but only if you promise to write a story and tell it to the world.”

It was my turn to be taken aback by this sincere request from a simple yet mysterious woman. The story which followed was straight out of some classical romance novel and wrenched my heart along with making me fall in love with love again. I hereby tell it you people keeping my promise.

                                               ************************************

Saakshyaa had no plans of relocating to Mumbai from her cozy hometown but life has uncanny ways of teaching you the things you never want to learn in the first place. She was having a hard time adjusting to the crowd, the language, the food, and most important the locals. Twice she boarded the wrong train and missed her interviews, once she fell on board and multiple times abused by the ladies for blocking the door.

One such sweaty and confusing afternoon she was stranded on Thane station, struggling to figure out her interview location when she bumped into a guy wearing larger than life headphones. She broke her spectacles and along with that her composure too. In no time big fat drops of tears were falling from her eyes as she tried to gather her strewn papers and broken spects. The guy she bumped into was apologizing profusely but she knew she had no chance of getting to that interview in time and without her spects . Saakshyaa has had enough and was already planning to return to her home, forgetting about the interview. She desperately wanted those unfaithful tears to stop before a stranger, but they were as adamant as her misfortune with the interviews.

“Mam, Im really sorry, I wasn’t looking straight, I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

“Its absolutely OK , its not your fault, I wasn’t looking either.”

“You sure you will manage without your spects? Shall I accompany you to wherever you were going?”

“Now listen , Mr. Biggest-headphones-I-Have-seen, just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean you can hit on me. I know these tactics very well. So kindly mind your own business.”

“Okay, okay I get it, but seeing the thickness of your glasses and seeing you blink like that Im pretty sure you will not reach anywhere without getting one or two injuries. But if you don’t want my help, its okay.”

Saakshyaa wanted to retort, something cruel, sarcastic but realizing her petty and helpless state all she did was shed some more tears.

“Listen, I have nowhere important to go, I can take you to home, office or wherever you want to go, and I promise I will not ask your phone no or mail id.” he said with a sheepish grin.

Saakshyaa has had enough of trial and error and for the first time after the painful incident in her past which propelled her to relocate to the city of dreams, she trusted her instincts. She not only asked the stranger his name which was Haamid but also took the liberty of asking him to accompany her to the interview. Apparently Haamid was going in the same direction and accompanied her, not to the company but to the interview room, thanks to her poor vision. Moments later a joyous and bubbly Saakshyaa emerged from the room confirming the fact that she got the job. For Haamid , it was love at first sight when he saw her rare ear to ear smile. She was a complete change from the sobbing, doleful Saakshyaa he met earlier. Haamid didn’t ask her phone no, for she herself gave it to him, calling him her good luck charm. Saakshyaa found a faithful friend in Haamid who not only taught her about locals, but also showed every nook and corner of Mumbai. Haamid was falling in love oblivious to Saakshyaa’s traumatic past and Saakshyaa was oblivious of Haamids feelings for her. It could have gone like that, it should have gone like that, but fate has to play an upper hand and it did.

Haamid was a struggling musician who played gigs for survival but was waiting for a big break which he got. He was selected to compose background score for a documentary being shot in South Africa by discovery channel. The only glitch in the dream like story was the fact that he had to accompany the crew to Africa for 6 months. It took every ounce of courage Haamid had to buy the platinum ring he was eyeing for his proposal.

He called up Saakshyaa to the central park where most of their post work time was spent.

“Hey, that’s a really cheap treat for a musician working for discovery you know.” She chirped.

“I promise I will make up for that. But first I have something Important to discuss.”

“No, I will not call you on ISD, and will definitely not look after your house while you are gone.”

“Can you be serious just for a while?”

“Okay, okay grumpy go ahead, tell me.”

“Saakshyaa, since the day I met you on Thane station where you were as lost as a deer in town I have been in love with you, I haven’t seen any girl who looks as adorable with spects as you do, I haven’t seen any girl who hands out candies to the beggars on traffic signals , I haven’t seen any girl who can tolerate my nonsense musical gibberish for so long and I am sure I will never see such a girl. I don’t know what you feel about me but all I know is I love you and I will love you for the rest of my life.”

With this stunning declaration he produced the ring on which he spent every penny he saved. He was hoping, rather praying for Saakshyaa to accept the ring. But fate had to have an upper hand and it did.

“Do you know any thing about me or my past Haamid? Do you know Why I came to Mumbai leaving my hometown? Do you know why I never talk about my family ever? No Haamid you know nothing about me . The day I came to Mumbai was the day I was supposed to get married , to a guy chosen by my mom and dad, the guy I fell in love with on my engagement , the guy who was supposed to protect me from the world, the guy who was in a live in relationship even after our engagement and when I confronted him all he said was he was marrying me for the sake of his parents and I had no choice but to marry him. I had an easy choice of marrying him and spending the rest of my life in a loveless marriage or to defy my family and live on my own terms. I haven’t trusted any one since then, but you coz I thought you care as a friend, but seems I was wrong. You belong to the same creed of men who can not see a girl as any thing but a marriageable asset. I refuse to be one.”

All her pent up aggression, her anger came crashing down like a thunderbolt on unsuspecting Haamid. He was too stunned to defend her flawless love for her, he wanted to tell her he was not at all like that scoundrel fiancé of hers who couldn’t see the innocence in those bespectacled eyes, he wanted to scream that he will never ever lay eyes on any other girl, but seeing Saakshyaa shivering with rage and hurt all he could do was to place the ring next to her.

“Im leaving On 3^rd of December and I will wait for you on 2^nd here on this same bench. Everyone is not alike , and I petty that man who didn’t see the brilliance and innocence of yours. If you come I promise I will never let you cry again , ever. Goodbye.”

That was the last Saakshyaa saw of Haamid, she never went to the park on 2^nd, for she was sure she didn’t love him. If only she had known that she wouldn’t be able to survive one day without him she would have gone, if only she had known she was having the most clichéd confusion of lovers being friends, she would have gone. But the realization came late and she lost Haamid.

                                                   *********************************

I didn’t realize I was crying profusely, uncontrollably and it was Saakshyaa who was wiping those tears off my face . If fate could be so cruel this was a living proof of that.

Since that day saakshyaa had come to this forgotten park on every 2^nd of the month, in a vain hope of finding love again. She even wears the same suit so that Haamid would recognize her despite the greys. The ring proudly adorns her finger like benediction of her lost love. That is her Day of love.

As far as Im concerned, Im still trying to find Haamid through the discovery channel and internet, may be if I get Saakshyaa her love back I might find my day of love. Promise me you all will try finding Haamid, and if you do tell him his love will be waiting for him on that park bench.

                                                   ***********************************
P.s.This post is written for Indibloggers contest Platinum Day of love.

Ramblings..

The best part of my job comes when the night shift gets over at fivish, and its time to leave for home. You are glad that there were no emergencies, no casualties. You head out for your cab when you automatically look up to catch a glimpse of the fading moon. Its just a sliver, an arc proudly dangling in sky. Inky blue it is, blotched by a hint of pink, promising for the sun to take over and herald a new day. You pat your own back, basically because there is no one else to do that , for the fact that you have survived one more day without breaking down and without missing people from your past enough to bring sparkle to your otherwise dry eyes. The instrumental music playing on radio is giving fuel to your kindering spirit. Just a little tilt of your head out of the car window to trap some wind in your hair and aah!!you are set for the journey. There is no other option than to leave your regrets on the road, for they are a thing of past, and there is no better time to move on than right now.
One more day,,a new day!!

Fragrant memories

Nostalgia can be your worst opponent and at the same time your best friend. At times when you are neck deep in work, shifts, patients, a glimpse of the same royal blue shirt or sniffing a simlar incense stick can take you to the bygone lanes and forgotten moments. Blame it on your senses, you see something and you reminisce, you smell something and your head is spinning in good times, you hear a familiar phrase and instantly remember where and when did you first hear it.
The crux of the story is that our senses define our existence.

Childhood is the phase where we are constantly building memories, and if we knew we would be surviving on the same memories we would have strived harder to memorize the details.
Gone are the days when the whole summer vacations were spent at Nani's place (matrernal grandmother). We could sleep all we wanted without being yelled at ,"You are getting late for school, get up!!!"
We woke up with hot aroma of french toast wafting from kitchen along with omelettes. The rose -jasmine incense stick burning gloriously and declaring that Nani had already taken bath and conversed with The Almighty. On hugging her the soft and sweet smell of the old , original Ponds talcum powder filled your nostril and you hugged her a little longer just to inhale the fragrance, which was 1000 times better than any perfume or deodorant.
I dont eat eggs any more but whenever I smell omelettes being cooked I recall each and every moment spent with my Nani.

Nostalgia can be your worst oponent and best friend. You are getting ready for work, rushing , hurrying to reach on time, when it starts raining heavily. Petrichor drowning your soul and flying you back to a rainy evening spent below a tree in lonavala, with the only person who mattered most, eating corns and talking seamlessly.
You are getting late for the work, but you still smile at your own reflection lost in time.

Mom enters the kitchen in morning and you are following her all the way from bathroom sniffing her wet, shampooed hair. You are trying to save a piece of her for the times you will be away from her in the hostel.

You find a pen to jot down a phone number when a familiar fragrance takes over your senses. The pen was given to you by your ex which was lucky enough to be placed in his pocket, near to his heart and received some liberal sprays of the perfume your ex used. The relationship vanished but not the memories. Nostalgia can be your worst opponent, it can make you stand to a complete stranger at a paan tapri and inhale the poisonous goldflake being smoked by the stranger, just because your ex smoked the same brand. Ofcourse, the stranger will assume you to be a mental case instead of senti.
Theres so much more to the sense of smell. A rose reminds you of the anonymous bouqet placed in your kinetic on valentines day long ago.
The smell of cumin seeeds in ghee reminds you of your kitchen.  Ethanol or spirit which I get to smell on a daily basis always takes me back to the chemistry lab in school and the bloopers we did.
Coconut oil reminds me of the group oiling sessions in hostel where we gossiped like crazies on saturday nights.
The vanilla smell has recently become synonymous with my cute and sweetheart dog, murphy coz yhat is his favourite flavour when it comesto biscuits and bones (dont look so bewildered , there are vegetarian vanilla bones for dogs..)
I could go on and on...but as I said earlier nostalgia is your worst opponent and your best friend...I should stop reminiscing and focus on my duty.

One day..

One fine day you see someone from behind in a crowd and a silent gasp escapes your soul. Nostalgia hits you like a warm shower and you are fighting the kaleidoscope of thousand by gone memories and moments.

The curve of the neck, the crease on the hand holding the cell phone, everything resembles the person you knew inside out. What is he doing here? He cant possibly be here..

You are conjuring thousand questions to ask, thousand complaints to make. What if he doesnt recognize? What if he has already moved on? And similar thoughts swarming in your head.

Then the dreaded moment comes when he turns and he is a stranger indeed. All you are left with is a tearful smile, a song in your head and whole day to reminisce about the past.

There are days like this..

Road redemption.

Change is inevitable,you cant avoid it, you cant fight it, you cant beat it. The problem with change is acceptance, if you are accepting the change with an open heart the transition is smooth. We are afraid of the unknown, hence we resist change, taking comfort in our familiar surrounding but in doing that sometimes we miss what could have been the best moment of or otherwise mundane life.

I never was loner, atleast not in my conscious post pubertal  life. I enjoyed being with people, observing them, taking in their reactions. I still do, but  I have matured. I cherish my own company , I do not crave to be near crowd. The sense of balance itself is overwhelming. You can easily fit in a crowd, gliding in  conversations and while at it, a part of your being is either Loitering on the beach, or finding a way in the forest you once travelled.

While I was in Mumbai, I made it a point to travel the nearby scenic places and most of them I did. What I missed was the Konkan coast and if God had provided A way to kick ourselves in the back I would have kicked me . I know im gonna do it the only question is when. The best part about Konkan coast is that it is a haven for the mountain lovers And bliss for beach-admirers.

Road trips are best when planned and even better when impromptu. When I will get tired of the routine, drained soul, lost thoughts and uninspired life, then I will take this trip. The best part of the journey will be my choice of vehicle. Someone asked me some months ago if I could own any vehicle irrespective of the cost what would I buy, and without thinking I blurted Hummer(I know its not a girly vehicle Still wish is a wish and once you make it smelling like spring, and feel like orchids nothing beats the girly feel.) Get a good GPS and you are ready to hit the road. If you want to Experience the best, get up early, Pack for three days and if comfortable pack a camping tent. The trip to Konkan coast would be incomplete If you dont breakfast at Panvel , the famous Kaande-Pohe, legend has it that he never packs and people come from all over mumbai to savour the delicacy.
The NH17 takes you to Alibaug if Im not mistaken, Ill probably take a stay there in some of the hotel or lodge, Aibaug has some beautiful beaches and I know I can easily spend a day or 2 there, all I need is love...just kidding all i need is my journal, my music and solitude. It is a bliss when No one knows you, no one bothers you. You can eat whenever you want, you can lie on the beach for ever.

The way to Harihareshwar is serene, misty and once again beautiful. A treat for the eyes and soul. The famous harihareshwar temple will be next on list. Im not an atheist, I never was and I never will be, I believe there is a supreme lord looking after me, and I call him by different names. I know he gives me tough time because he knows I have the strength to bear that.

I dont like travelling in metro coz most of the times, I cant see the sky..and most importantly I can not see the moon. Driving  gives me that pleasure, watching the trees run by you, watching the moon travel with you, stars blinking and guiding you.
The power of music is such it can take you to a long forgotten Memory, a song makes you relive the moment you have been cherishing. Coldplay, Pink floyd, Atif Aslam, some old hindi jewels make best combination for travelling.
 Diveagar is another stop you can take and relax. The hummer  and me both would need rest.
There are various stops on the way, Kaashid beach, dapoli, guhagar and others. Though Im not  a photographer I will definitely go crazy with the camera and will take thousand snaps to relive the bliss, the solitude and the silence.
Ganpati pule is a place I will definitely not miss as people say whatever you wish for comes true soon. Who knows a miracle could happen,  never lose hope is   all I believe..
The trip would end at Tarkalli, which is a hot shot  spot for water sports, including under water diving. Im scared Of water bodies and specially going under, Im sure when I will be alone Ill not be stressed about embarrassing myself . I will definitely try all the water sports, since trying all adventure sports is my wish list.
Its said water has the potential to wash away your impurities, may be the water will  wash away my past as well.
I read somewhere that best of the journeys are those made back to home and so after curing my burn out,I will head back home, ready to face the world again, ready to take up the responsibility...

this post is written for indiblogger contest "a perfect road trip" in association with Ambipur.

Welcome to Dilli.. :)

There are days meant to be longer, there are days meant to be whackier, there are days meant to be memorable and there are days never meant to end. 6th July was one of those days . Sometimes I can be a total clutz and other times I am oversmart. I planned my visit to passport office (which coincidentally lies behind Hyatt) just before the Indimeet, hoping to save some time. Somewhere amidst my pseudo-intelligent research and enquiring from a certain Mr-Know-It-All, I missed a crucial point that it was a Saturday and hence off. So there I was standing like a moron infront of Hyatt Regency at 12.45 P.M. , full one hour ahead of the time. This was my first ever meet in Delhi, and needless to say I was apprehensive despite being assured by Gv Sparx that he will attend the meet and I wont feel lonely or awkward. As I entered the venue I realized there were more enthusiastic people than me, and hall was almost filled. I met a cute, female blogger named Priyanka Banerjee (whose blog URL I forgot thanks to my aging grey cells)
We ended up chatting for long when I finally spotted Priyanka Dey, who is way cuter than her pictures and whom I expected to be a bit taller, but there she was as cute as a kitten. She introduced me to Gv Sparx, whom I couldn't have identified without help, coz I expected him to be a bit older..and a moustache, I don't know why though.
The mystery shrouding bloggers whom You know in virtual world but not in real world, remains profound till the time you haven't met them. I consider myself a people person, so I was happy to see the faces behind the words. Speaking of faces, it will be unworthy of me not to mention two pretty faces Himadri and Garima, fun and freaky people to be with. I was meeting all these people for the first time, but seemed I knew them since ages. That's the fun of blogging, you connect to people on a much deeper level than appearance or attitude.
The meet started with classes on head banging from none other than the man who is perfectly quipped for it, Nihal...irrespective of the age factor, hair factor almost every one did it.
I was afraid my wig would come off so I refrained, or the 27 species of lice I was breeding in my hair might find them homeless...:D
The most sporting head bang I found later in the pictures was that Of Madhu Bharadwaj. Seriously she had the most fun without even spoiling her hair style.
The best section of a bloggers meet is the intro, 30 seconds of fame. I am relatively new to delhi blogging circle but I had read many of them earlier, and thank god for that. The introductions were poetic, inspiring , lengthyyyyyyy....Even I got my chance and grabbed it with both the hands..
The meet was sponsored by Ambi pur...and hence the topic of discussion was indeed smelly..there were several pictures of rotten veggies, pets, shoe racks, socks, pets...but the prize went to a picture of potty..., i mean who can defeat that when it comes to odour..But when it comes to pets im blessed to own a dog who doesnt smell much, thanks to his habit of wearing booties on walks, and washing his face in a bucket full of water every chance he gets.(I cant help mentioning him, he is too adorable)
Somehow rainy season is an excuse for smells all around. The marketing team of Ambi pur did a good  job of answering the queries, providing the solutions to the smelly problem (lavender, vanilla , hawaiian flowers).
The meet was interrupted by the food which was ok I guess, and the fact that there were 4 options for desserts for non-veg people and only one for us the veg-eaters made it a little depressing.
Amidst the smelly banter our table, hosting priyanka (actually 2 priyankas), Himadri, Gv Sparx, Garima , was having fun...and may be thats why we were ignored and not handed the room fresheners. We could have ignored the fact had it not been the factor deciding our teams for group activity. Hence we had to shout to Vineeth to hand our fresheners. I identified Arvind passey sir and Sangeeta mam, but was too tongue tied to talk. And later I got to Amritt, saurabh, Murtaza, Medha all were there but I was too blind to identify them. The most pleasant surprise was the sudden greeting by rinzu susan, whom Ive made acquaintance quite recently but the girl speaks my mind.
Thankfully I was in the same team as Garima and Priyanka, but  sadly Himadri and Gv both were in other teams. Our theme was hollywood action movies, and needless to say we were supposed to use our gifts As props. Our team had excellent guides Neha, saumya, anup and priyanka. The best part of our play were the smelly cats played beautifully by three femme fatale. Needless to say we won, but there were other memorable performances like the guy as Zombie, Himadri as gabbarni and the chinese female fighter.
The crazy impromptu skits ended finally and so did the meet. I made new friends in Gv Sparx, Priyanka, himadri, And Garima.
Wish the meet never ended, had an amazing time and a great welcome to the the city as I have recently shifted to Delhi.
Mumbai reigned my heart but im sure my heart can accomodate two cities easily.

Thanks to indiblogger team and ambi pur people for organizing such a fun filled event.

For more pics follow the indiblogger.

The following post has been published for indibloggers

Of memories, moments and memoirs..

While we are breathing our lives through the monotony of our daily routine,we forget that it is nothing but an assortment of varied moments. Moments which we might remember for the rest of our lives or moments we try our best to erase from our memory. Whatever the case might be, that moment doesnt lose its importance. It hovers above us like a giant nimbus. It bathes all our senses in an earthy shower. What we do not realize is the fact that moment is transient, its gonna perish like every other thing. However hard we might try we can not hold on to that moment, its not humanly possible, and we let go of that moment. May be we fight tooth and nail to hold on that final straw but eventually we let go of that. It had to pass on, it did. That moment might be the biggest event of our life but it goes...

We assume that change is a gradual process when in reality change occurs suddenly, fast enough to suck air out of our lungs, and leave us breathless. We might try our best to brace ourself against the change but it is never enough to protect us against the impact. The hardest to deal with are the changes associated with loss.

Memories have played a tricky game ever since man started making memories..They make us happy when we are sad and urge us to cry when we should be smiling ear to ear. They hold our past together, they make impossible possible for us. Yet they remain underestimated when it comes to our commercial world. True that it is tough thriving only on our memories, specially when we are going through a personal loss but somehow they create the cocoon warm enough to shield us from the chilling reality. They have an unbelievably wide range. An innocent get together to wish good luck to a friends college life, which was the first moment a young girl realized she was in love. Four girls sitting rooftop on their hostel discussing and planning future with utmost seriousness when in reality they were just 20 something,young enough to plan a whole future on a whim. Memories never perish, and that is the difference between moments and memories..memories stay, rooted in the deepest layer of our soul and they find the most unfortunate time to bubble up to the surface and by Joe when they do,they knock us bad. The ones where we did something with spirit of life stand out erect. Memories never decay..

Memoirs are the binding forces between moments and memories..again sometimes its all we are left to hold on to. The testing times start when we are faced with a dilemma to get rid of those moments, memories and memoirs. Only if it were that easy to get rid of, we would have become God...:)

I read somewhere that world of pretend is not a warm cocoon but a hard bed, still most of us infact a vast majority of the world ignorantly survives in that world. If only the moments stayed and memories perished....

Ramp ready...oops stage ready!!

"Women are complicated, even Brahma , the creator of the world can not understand you ladies...!!"

This was an outburst from my non-female (Oh there is a specific term for that!!..male) friends back in college. I disagreed then, I disagree now.
The simplicity lies in the fact that we can forget any tension by retail therapy, we can overcome any problem by a visit to our favorite salon and brush away any woes by just a makeover..I might get my ears burned if any feminists are reading my this statement. Jokes apart, every female (and now it includes every male!!!) wants to look prim n propah, and what makes it so special is this that ladies want to do it for themselves, not to impress any guy. They are rediscovering their beauty, expanding their choices and loving it.
I was born with hair, which has its own mind...yes my hair has its own mind , when I want it to remain poker straight, it gets curled and not those fairy like curls but twisted and tangled...and when I purposely curl them all they do is fall flat, limp and lifeless.
*Sigh...
I used to crib about my hair, until the day my sister declared she owns the tag of 'bad hair day' and I was dethroned automatically.

This is what her hair appeared after trying numerous hair products(which of course claimed to smoothen the frizzes but ended up frying her hair).

Now I am a true Indian, I always go empty stomach in a party (specially those where I dont even have to carry gifts.) and I apply for any thing that has stamped FREE over it. So it was natural that when TRESemme's sample popped up on Indiblogger's page I clicked on it without even thinking and when I received the free samples, I was a bit skeptical on using them. But my Indian spirit got the better of me and I washed my hairs with the shampoo and the conditioner (salon silk moisture, for dry rough hair) and I know it sounds unbelievable but it did wonders from the first wash itself.

"You have to try this shampoo and conditioner. Its amazing!!!" I said.
"Huh, you said the same thing when you got that stupid ****** conditioner." my sister retorted.
"No, no its seriously good yaar. Just try once, if you dont like it I  will finish the bottle."
"Okay, but just one wash , but if it doesnt work I will never listen to your advice on hair care."

Now after a lot of cajoling and coaxing she did use both the things and voila, her hair was silkier, and manageable. The best thing about the shampoo was that there was almost no hair fall, as most of the chemical laden shampoos do, they make your hair silky but at the cost of the hair itself..and the conditioner too worked miracles on my sister's tangled twisted mane. Now we could not stop at just ogling at the pretty hair so we set to work and some real cool hairstyles emerged as a result, ranging from fish braids to twisted ponytail. But when we curled her hair, it was too good to be true and the hair looked straight from the ramp.

My rockstar was ready with her awesome hair and her guitar........and we lived happily ever after.


This post has been written for INDIBLOOGER in collaboration with TRESemme India

Toke- Book review.

Toke- By Jugal Mody
Harper Collins Publication
Price-160 Rs.
ISBN 978-93-5029-340-9

When you receive a book for review, that exact moment is already supposed to be a moment of elation, add to it the subject of the book is all about getting 'high', so what do you feel? You get high on penned words, thats what you do and that is exactly what I did when I took the book in my hands. I had no idea what I was rushing into, but the story was far from predictable, attention-seeking, and focused.The protaganist of the book is not your cliched, muscular, John Abraham types dude, but an average office-goer with a weird sense of humor and a great deal of un-wanted responsibility on his frail shoulders.
The element of mythology always adds spice for us, the devoted , God-fearing middle class people(Rich people dont have to worry about their karma, they absolve their sins by charity!!) However the mythology staring at us from the crisp pages is completely different from what ever you might be expecting or read previously. Lord Vishnu is not your soft spoken, serenely smiling , benevolent larger than life figure, but an awesome rock-n-rolla, marijuana loving, hilarious comic timing and an even better dressing sense(not to forget the dancing blondies behind him!!).
The confusion starts when a guy having an average IQ and an even lower sense of responsibility is faced with a task of saving the world(read the book to know the cause of destruction), his allies are nothing but two of his college friends (read pot-smoking) , two japanese(err they may be chinese ) chicks with impeccable fighting skills and uninhibited love for the two friends, a geek, and a snitch. Yeah they are aided by Lord Vishnu, Shiva and other mythological figures but the humongous task had to be performed by them.

The plot is fast moving with its twists and turns, evil fighting the good (oops good fighting the evil) and at times you wonder what did the author smoke himself before conjuring up such a ridiculously unbelievable plot and characters. I mean fantasy is one thing and mythology is another, when you mix it up and blend it with humor, You get "TOKE".
The characters including the protaganist and his allies are believeable and you can relate to them on a number of levels, be it professional scenario as in a Multinational corporation or personal level where the hero lusts after his office beauty.
An absolute delight to read it for the first time and I recommend it to all those who cant travel without a book in their hands. It will allow you to forget your daily woes even if for a moment or so. You will wonder "what if?" someday this happens with you. I read it somewhere there are no bad books ever. This one is worth spending your hard earned 160 Rs. If I write any further I will give away the freshness of the plot. My rating for this book is 3.5/5 and I will be looking forward to read more of Jugal Mody in future as well. The cover page in itself invites you over for a look through.All in all a good read.
P.S. In this era where every third person is becoming a published author, with a soppy love story, Jugal Mody's TOKE is a breath of fresh air.
"Fun , fantastic freakshow...."

Lucknow literary festival through my eyes.

Recently I attended the first ever Literary festival held in Lucknow and I wanted to share my experience. Fablery publication was kind enough to allow me to express my heart felt warmth at the festival on their blog.
Here is a link to the post. Enjoy.

Lucknow Literary Festival Through my eyes.

10 rules to follow after break-up

Ok, so the honey dewy love-glossed matinee show is over, the mauve tinted glasses have been taken off by the same person who put them up on your eyes, and you have hit the big B, and by no means I mean the great Mr. Amitabh Bachhan. The break up has happened, the "never-ending", "will always be there for you" love has come to an end. Hmmmm what to do now, or more important what not to do.If you are looking for agony aunts or uncles, this might be the time for you to turn away and ask it on Quora.
 denial, thats all we live in for initial days, and if you survive that safely, give yourself a brand new samsung tab, you deserve it(stop with the greed and dont say why not I-pad).

1. Avoid alcohol-Now dont go all cynical and pound on me, I am not saying to go all dry and not high, but limit your access to the doomed drinks and stay away from binge drinking. What did i hear?? come again?? aah u r talking about devdas or srk or dilip kumar...well they had the greatest advantage as aashiques, cell phones were not invented, mails were passed through pigeons and mark zuckerberg wasnt even born let alone fb or google. so you understand what am i trying to save you from, the deadly drunk call...you have few drinks, your mind is messed up bad, the first thing you do is call the sucker. even if you call to just say a simple hi, you will end up telling him/her how badly you miss them, that you are the same loser who got left(reasons not important). so to avoid these bloopers STAY AWAY FROM ALCOHOL!!!!! (for few months at least, then you can indulge...:P)

2.Delete the doomed digits- If you look at a wider picture, why carry the unwanted numbers and load your phone's memory with it(rather upload some cute pictures of Jessica Alba, Eva longoria, or Ian Somerhalder whatever works for you, you know what I mean when I say cute, dont ya???)  It is extremely unlikely for you to dial the 10 digits again and again , specially if you dont have the drunk excuse. Also if you are stoned you wont be able to dial the correct number and who knows you land up in some Johnny's phone rather than  your x-beloved Jasmine's. Also delete the messages, photos, mails, there is absolutely no freaking need to pile on. The message is DELETE THE DAMNED CONTACT.

3.Stay away from the happy couples- You might resent it and say they are your only hope in getting you back on your feet and the positive vibes from them blah blah will yadda yadda happy feelings. Bullshit!!!! with a capital B , when it comes to post-apocalyptic ooppps Post breakup state, most of the contemporary philosophies(well whom am I kidding??) alll of the philosophies fall flat as a bread on their freaking face.So instead of hanging around your engaged or married or would be married couples and making them uncomfortable get away from them. They will only make you feel super-conscious of your 'single' status and may be unintentionally , it will be in-your-face more than Eminem's urban poetry. You will be reminded of your 'happy days' in their proximity, even if they dont say a word and sit together, you will infer something memorable out of it. (Remember love stimulates same centres as pain does in brain...) Its sitting on a pin-cushion if you keep hanging with the 'couples'. (Remember Ted in How I met your mother?) The message -STAY AWAY FROM COUPLES.

4.Common sites- Now thats a pretty improbable thing to ask, but if possible stay away from the common sites 'you' visited as a duo. Now if you are working in the same office, GOD bless your blemished soul, but if not then scout for some new pubs, cafes( again, if your never-ending love story brewed in CCD or Barista, dear GOD bless you!!!!) To cut the long story short, shun, avoid , ban those old hang outs from you own life. If you live in a metro you will have no issues finding new bistros, pizzerias and delis. No, India gate doesnt commemorate your love and also Marine drive wasnt structured to remind those long hours you wasted discussing the non-existing future and other things which you could have invested in more productive things(and I dont mean making babies). Now dont go all teary-eyed and say "I meant it then"...the simple rule in Love-if its not forever its not love dude(whether its lust or misinterpretation is upto you to decide...:P) The message-STAY AWAY FROM COMMON HANG-OUTS.

5. Delete 'your songs'- Actually that should have been the first advice, 'in a relationship' all the duets appear as if they were belted out for you and only YOU..(SIRF TUM!!!) No sir, A.R.Rehman is not even aware of your existence let alone your belief in the fact that "Rehna Tu" is exclusively created for you. Neither did Pritam think of you while 'composing'(ahem ahem!) "Tu Jaane Naa..." Admit it, you relate every romantic song with you when you are dating, and as soon as the shit hits the fan all sad and tragic songs are all you hear everywhere. Remember there are 10000 people like you who are suffering from the same breakup syndrome(I am sorry to break the bubble of your unique love story). So the next best thing to do, delete them, erase them, do not listen to them for a lonnnnnggggggggg time(never!!!!) I know we are depriving ourselves of a sweet melody, but there are 100000 more songs to search, and who knows while searching for a new genre you might stumble on something mind blowing.The message is simple-DELETE AND NEVER EVER LISTEN 'YOUR' SONGS.

6. Make hard rock your BFF- This is a general destressing therapy I discovered in Medical College where long study hours can be grueling to the point of driving you mad. Also pile on the tantrums of college mates and always sarcastic professor, you have the perfect recepie for stressed mind and body. But not to worry when Asteria is for rescue. Think ACDC, think LINKIN PARK, think Metallica......Plug the earphones , max the volume and voila the screaming voices, the hard hitting drums fill your ears and soul only to clog out the thing eating away your grey matter. Well this works for every situation, and break up is no different. Whenever your mind starts wandering in the prohibited lanes of your blissful past, rush to the i-pod and drown your self in the raps of Chester and Eminem till the time you are not able to think coherently.MAKE HARD ROCK YOUR BEST FRIEND.

7. Abuse(In Private)- Come on, dont tell me throughout while  you two were together there never was a moment when you did not want to strangle the person with your bare hands. So, sit , meditate and remember all those times you got stood up on dates, forgotten anniversaries, the time when he/she ridiculed on your ignorance on something he/she masters. Remember all those times and thank god you dont have to keep wondering whether the plan for movie is still on or you will have to spend one more weekend alone. Just be careful of doing that in private, i mean use the glorious expletives in whatever language you prefer, but do that in confines of your home/bathroom/journal/blog. Your not complying to the rule of abusing in private may add loser to the already pathetic state of your persona in society. So take out those clandestine expletives rotting in some corner of your brain and start ranting..:) It will take time if you really really were in true, bollywoodisque type love but You will come around. ABUSE AND ABUSE UNTIL YOU ARE TIRED.

8.Steer clear of the 'single friends'- Okay you might jab me and say not to party with couples, not to stay with single friends, then where to bang your heads. Relax, there is a third species which you might not have noticed during courtship period. The breed which is single and not at all ready to mingle. You get me right?? The moment news of your break up is leaked with a cautious "Do not tell any one." Every single male gets a heads up, as if the fact You are single will improve their thin-as-a-sliver-chance of hitting on you. They take the whole and soul responsibility of consoling you(as if you needed the acid to pour on your burning heart, no heart burn is different..:P) They start dropping these Larger than life hints how they have always seen you as their soul-mates and blah, yadda, zabba. Well , beware of such species, specially girls need to be on look out for these prominent members of FOSLA. The iron is hot as you are most susceptible to a rebound, and the 'forever alone' friends think they will hit. If you fall prey to their non-existent feelings, you are adding catastrophe to already existing disaster.
STAY AWAY FROM 'SINGLE' AND READY TO MINGLE FRIENDS.

9.Learn to do things on your own-Now that you are clearly on your own, its high time you learn how to sync your i-pod with your i-pad or how to keep your pictures hidden from 456 friends on your facebook(yess, I have seen people who were totally unaware of the privacy option on FB until their respective bfs/gfs told them.) I am sure you must be having troubles but learn people, learn!!! Next time you date you will be the one telling the direction to the Joint. Also, now you will have ample time on your hands to watch those movies which were rotting in your hard disk, coz you are free from all this,
"Why hasnt he called me?"

"Is she with some one else?"
"Am I not good enough for him."

"Will she dump me like she dumped Rajesh, Suresh, Akshat??"

"Jaanu, first you hang the phone....no you....no you.....see you didnt hang it either, ok lets count to 1,2,3 and keep together. 1.....2.......3......see you did not hang it again..."

So ladies and gentleman do all those things you wanted to do but didnt coz your BF/GF wasnt interested. Go for Wine tasting, trekking, writing seminars while you are single, coz no matter how much you train yourself not to fall for someone else, you are bound to rebound with someone much hotter or smarter!! LEARN SOMETHING NEW.INDULGE.

10. Last and the most Important- There was that unique quality which made you fall for them, be it their intelligence, compassion, or their enthusiasm for new things. Remember them and try to imbibe those. Relationships leave an impact on all of us, so its better to keep the good and throw the bad. Take all those good things and discard else. You will be a better person.

If nothing works, either join some Sahaj yoga or hit your head with a hammer coz when you 'fell-in-love' you DID  serve your heart on a plate like a hamburger to the devil and asked him to slice through it multiple no of times.



P.S.. If people write about death doesnt mean they have died or if they express about rape doesnt mean they were raped. You get what I want to say.

Split Personality !!!!!

"Didi, my concert is in few days, I have not even decided  the hair style , let alone dress and shoes..".

"Didi, its chachu's marriage, what am I gonna do to my hair??"

These are the common worried excerpts of conversations which takes place in our home before every major function , be it a wedding party, a concert, or even just Holi celebration. As you have correctly guessed its my younger sister who is  the center of these droopy faced discussions.
My sister as a kid had gorgeous curly hairs (read golden locks resembling Goldi Locks) so much so that most of our relatives were jealous of her hair. Some even went to the extent of suggesting an early mundan(Hindu ritual of getting bald). But thankfully my mom had known better so as to their intentions.

We all have witnessed a great deal of pampering and TLC as kids, specially if you were a part of a joint family.. The never ending session of oiling your hair with mustard oil, application of ubtan(home made face pack) to make your skin fair and umpteen remedies like washing your hair with curd and neem water, etc etc...Pheww!! The list is endless. We were not a joint family my dad being a single child, but summer vacations at Nani's place brought us immense joy and compensated for not having a joint family. My Nani was one of those chubby, rolly polly, women who had a thick black, gorgeous braid. She used to pamper us with all those oiling, face packs and oodles of love. It was heavenly touching her luscious, silky black hair with just a hint of coconut oil. I remember she used to make different style of braids in our hair, french, fish and a lot more.

my little sis just before mundan

My little sister was proud of her golden brown curls, and never left an opportunity to flaunt them even at tender age of 3. She just wanted that her braid and curls should be long enough to fly when ever she flipped her head. Nani used to make up all these stories that if she will eat all green vegetables, her hair will be long and shiny just like a princess and my sister used to comply without giving us much headache. But as flames to dust, lovers to friends, all good things come to an end. One day that dreaded day came, feared by every kid in her life. Mundan, my sister made us promise that we will not cut her hair too short, little did she know she was about to get hairless for a long time. She scratched the barber, wailed at the highest pitch and got us almost kicked out of Vaishno devi as were disturbing the devotees' attention. But what had to be done was done. Nani promised her that very soon she will have longest and most beautiful hair among all of us if she continued to eat her veggies. Somehow, her promise did not keep when she died unexpectedly due to a heat stroke. As expected a lot changed after her demise, and for a long time we all were too stunned to know what to do without her.

Moving on, my sister turned from a sweet princess to a rebellious teen, and along came the attack of junk food, late night study sessions and a lot of unwanted hair care products. It did not surprise me when her once gorgeous silky curls turned an unruly mess, and gained a personality of their own, a split personality(pun intended!!)

The damage was incorrigible and heart breaking. My mom's tedious efforts went to a complete waste when it came to her hair and also the fact that she left for college away from all the healthy food and hair care.. Since last year we are living together after a long exile from our home and since then I have been trying to get the split personality of her hair out of her life.Even her braids were messy and had rough ends. I tried various products home remedies and landed on this SPLIT END RESCUE SHAMPOO suggested by Indiblogger. I had my doubts but thankfully there was a slow but positive effect on my little sister's hair, the texture changed from a muddy, rough brown to a shiny, silky golden. The split ends are disappearing slowly but effectively. Thank you DOVE for getting my sister her silky, shiny hair sans the split personality back. The effect is pretty visible as you all can see.

Thankfully her braid is all smooth and fizz free..And the cherry on the cake I discovered one of the styles Nani used to make , the braid with 4 partings...:) Doesnt this look awesome. and neat..My sister's hair woes have vanished, touchwood!!!!

This post is written for Beautiful Ends To your Beautiful Braids in association with DOVE and Indiblogger

Tell your friends you will never split ever