Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tapori gang....Meri awaaz suno!!!!!
Chuckle….Tapori gang ,ur comments deserve a reply that comprises an entire post.
Some people are not meant for marriage.I mean God did not design them to be married.And I was one of those people.What happens when a person gets into a situation which is beyond all his mental capabilities? He goes mad.Same case here.If u thot I was mad before marriage then now I am stark staring mad.Forget about following Buddha cos the good saint wud lift up his robes and run for his life if he saw me follow him.
Take a good long look at me,dudes,cos they don’t make wives in this model anymore.I am the ultimate insane wife who spends a Sunday afternoon ironing all her husband’s clothes including his t-shirts cos she fears that she may not have time to do it on a daily basis(Yikesss!!!),the wife who insists on cooking shrimp fried rice even when she is dead tired and would gladly eat bread but for the fact that he hates bread and rolls out chappathis on a weekday(huh,ever heard of the folks in Somalia???),the crazy coot who massages his feet cos hers feel like lead(an aching lump of lead),who is paranoid about him falling sick and checks daily whether he has toweled his hair dry properly(if not she towels it dry too...sheesh!!),the woman who hates letting him wash the dishes even when she can hardly stand straight and who makes her hubby’s favorite food for the weekend. And still manages to put in 8 hrs of work everyday at office and change her nailpolish thrice a week cos her husband likes it(Disgusting!!!).I never even used nailpolish before marriage.and in spite of all this,my house does NOT look like its been hit by a hurricane.You wud think I wud be proud of myself but frankly,I think am bonkers and seriously need to see the kind of doc who tightens the nuts and bolts on human heads.To those smartalecks who are contemplating writing a comment on how I was born without bolts,let me tell you.Spare urself the trouble cos ...I KNOW !!!...
Trust me ,boys,they don’t make wives like that anymore.As for me? I was someone who never intended to get married.My standard reply to anyone who asked me when I was getting married went something like this.”Tell me one good reason for marrying.Right now I need to cook when I am hungry, wash up what I use and clean up only the messes that I make.If I marry , I’ll have to cook when the dude is hungry,and clean up his messes too.Do I look nuts to marry and complicate my life?”I proclaimed that if I married I wud marry a chef and if I don’t marry a chef then the dude I marry need not expect me to cook.He can cook when he is hungry and since he is anyway cooking , he may as well cook a little bit extra for me.....sigh!!! So why did I marry one of yours? cos I fell in love with him.Simple and straight. And lost my marbles into the bargain.
Women who work would ostracize me from the girlie world and throw stones at me.Cos am breaking all the norms but then I was always a rebel.If you are waiting for a review from Anup to think about marriage then forget it.You would be walking into a snakepit with your eyes shut.Cos I repeat, they don’t make wives like that anymore.Try telling the gal u are gonna marry that u expect her to iron ur clothes,cook,clean and hold a full-time job.It’s like asking Hulk Hogan to do the ballet.Not only is it impossible but also dangerous. and I promise she’ll blast ur eardrums off onto planet Pluto.
So don’t walk into marriage expecting to find your shelves filled with ironed clothes and lovely smells coming from the kitchen as well a fat paycheck every fifteen days.You will be disappointed.Show some respect and fairness and you will be treated like a king,cos beside her King, every woman has a queen’s throne.(Dont u dare tell ur wives abt how I rule my kingdom!!! I'll sue u for slander and sue ur wife for assault.So there!)
So what converted me?Sigh!!! I sure wish I knew.
My ex-roomie cried at my wedding and you ask me who’s fate was the gal crying at.
Without doubt,mine !!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
An epidemic
This is something I read on the internet and liked so much that I decided to post it here as a reminder to myself.Here goes.....
Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to inner peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.
Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:
A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment. A loss of interest in judging other people. A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others. A loss of interest in conflict. A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom). Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature. Frequent attacks of smiling. An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen. An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.
Awesome,isnt it?
Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to inner peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.
Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:
A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment. A loss of interest in judging other people. A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others. A loss of interest in conflict. A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom). Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature. Frequent attacks of smiling. An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen. An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.
Awesome,isnt it?
Friday, February 1, 2008
Why Indians marry just once in a lifetime
Now I don’t want to make it sound as though all Indians marry just once in their lifetime and live happily ever after.It sounds like hitting the jackpot every time u play roulette which is simply not possible.There has begun a sorry trend of divorces in India and while most people cite several reasons as to why they want out,the thought itself is fearsome.I bet in twenty years time divorces in India will become more frequent and mostly amongst the 20-30 age group.But am digressing from the real topic which was not to deliver scary predictions of the divorce rate in India in some X year.
Got married just ten days ago.While the experience was part fun and part fury,it was a jumble of events,people,music,cameras,clothes and of course,intense beauty treatments.Now,beauty lies in the eye of the beholder and there are some people whom no matter what the beautician does,can at the best be only turned from an ugly duckling to a duck (nature’s order of things)rather than a graceful swan (Fat chance!).
Anyway,I had been tweezed,squeezed,waxed,plucked at,had my skin ripped,rubbed,burnt and bleached.One lady even took before/after pictures of her handiwork on me. I do hope it brings her more clients. My cusins, my hubby and just abt everyone seemed happy with the final product. All that is except my poor parents who probably felt their swan had turned into a duckling(All children are gorgeous in the eyes of their parents).My mother went so far as to suggest that I go back to my wild plumy self after marriage which is not gonna happen if my hubby has anything to say abt it.His frequent complaint was that no one seemed to do anything beyond a haircut and a face bleach in terms of beautifying him which I rewarded with a look(read dirty).
But more than anything the top reason why Indians marry only once in a lifetime is the crippling expense.I have already decided that my kids will have to elope cos am not gonna be able to afford their marriage if I intend to eat atleast 2 meals a day.The horrifying expenditure of an Indian marriage ,even if it is a simple affair is enuf to make one feel guilty at being born. I told my parents umpteen times that it wud be less expensive if we both just ran away .After all they had agreed to the marriage. But for some reason they had to have it in a proper khandhani rivaaz.Read expensive hall with expensive decorations I hardly noticed during the do,me decked out in jewellery most of which were handed down by my mom which she had worn probably once in all these years if at all and which I wud probably wear just once in a lifetime if at all.Thankfully my parents, unlike most ,abhor weighing down their daughter with chunks of gold contrary to the social trends though my dad was tempted to buy jewellery as though he was buying potatoes. But then that weakness stemmed from his long held belief that his daughter is some kinda fragile princess in a tower who does nothing but comb her long tresses all day long.Alas, he picked the wrong specimen from the basket God held out and he was stuck with a daughter who cant sit still for more than 5 min,still climbs trees,works and sleeps odd hours,stubbornly refuses to keep a maid believing no maid can match her in cleaning her house and the only time the tresses are combed are when orphan bee tries to find his way inside what he mistakenly thinks is a beehive.
The never ending list of invitees which only seemed to grow and not reduce as the D-day drew closer ,the umpteen cries of dismay by anyone who saw a pimple on my face(that’s right,I did not see it cos I did not spend more than a minute in front of the mirror and some days,not even that)The long hours of sitting still with mehandi on my hands and feet(7 hrs and I cud not even use the bathroom) vs the family feeding me lunch.My dad fed me lunch for the first time I can remember in years.My brother fed me 2 cups of semiya payasam and my cousin took over from him at the third cup.I never realized that semiya payasam always tastes nicer if you have someone else spooning it into your mouth.My 63 year old uncle brought me a cup of water and held it for me to drink from.Boy! oh boy!!
What an experience…!!!!!Touching everyone’s feet during the blessing ceremony(including my cousin who is just 9 months older to me! Ha!It probably is gonna be the most cherished moment of her life),commenting furiously during every video shoot,keeping everyone in splits with self deprecatory comments,meeting people whom I have not seen in a long while and some whom I had never met but heard of(Radhika aunty and my cusin Harsha, who had never met me, came for the wedding and was I touched!!) and even more people I did not know existed.Sounds exhausting? Yes , it is…but its also exhilarating….The maddening videographer and photographer ,who keep encouraging you to smile when all u feel like doing is turning your back on them and doing a bumshake, do take the prize for being the most patient human beings I have met in my life.Remarkable!!
If you are Indian then the sheer energy,time and money spent on your marriage is enuf to sustain you thru it for nearly 50 years ….cos most likely you are broke and really cant afford to get married a second time!!!
Got married just ten days ago.While the experience was part fun and part fury,it was a jumble of events,people,music,cameras,clothes and of course,intense beauty treatments.Now,beauty lies in the eye of the beholder and there are some people whom no matter what the beautician does,can at the best be only turned from an ugly duckling to a duck (nature’s order of things)rather than a graceful swan (Fat chance!).
Anyway,I had been tweezed,squeezed,waxed,plucked at,had my skin ripped,rubbed,burnt and bleached.One lady even took before/after pictures of her handiwork on me. I do hope it brings her more clients. My cusins, my hubby and just abt everyone seemed happy with the final product. All that is except my poor parents who probably felt their swan had turned into a duckling(All children are gorgeous in the eyes of their parents).My mother went so far as to suggest that I go back to my wild plumy self after marriage which is not gonna happen if my hubby has anything to say abt it.His frequent complaint was that no one seemed to do anything beyond a haircut and a face bleach in terms of beautifying him which I rewarded with a look(read dirty).
But more than anything the top reason why Indians marry only once in a lifetime is the crippling expense.I have already decided that my kids will have to elope cos am not gonna be able to afford their marriage if I intend to eat atleast 2 meals a day.The horrifying expenditure of an Indian marriage ,even if it is a simple affair is enuf to make one feel guilty at being born. I told my parents umpteen times that it wud be less expensive if we both just ran away .After all they had agreed to the marriage. But for some reason they had to have it in a proper khandhani rivaaz.Read expensive hall with expensive decorations I hardly noticed during the do,me decked out in jewellery most of which were handed down by my mom which she had worn probably once in all these years if at all and which I wud probably wear just once in a lifetime if at all.Thankfully my parents, unlike most ,abhor weighing down their daughter with chunks of gold contrary to the social trends though my dad was tempted to buy jewellery as though he was buying potatoes. But then that weakness stemmed from his long held belief that his daughter is some kinda fragile princess in a tower who does nothing but comb her long tresses all day long.Alas, he picked the wrong specimen from the basket God held out and he was stuck with a daughter who cant sit still for more than 5 min,still climbs trees,works and sleeps odd hours,stubbornly refuses to keep a maid believing no maid can match her in cleaning her house and the only time the tresses are combed are when orphan bee tries to find his way inside what he mistakenly thinks is a beehive.
The never ending list of invitees which only seemed to grow and not reduce as the D-day drew closer ,the umpteen cries of dismay by anyone who saw a pimple on my face(that’s right,I did not see it cos I did not spend more than a minute in front of the mirror and some days,not even that)The long hours of sitting still with mehandi on my hands and feet(7 hrs and I cud not even use the bathroom) vs the family feeding me lunch.My dad fed me lunch for the first time I can remember in years.My brother fed me 2 cups of semiya payasam and my cousin took over from him at the third cup.I never realized that semiya payasam always tastes nicer if you have someone else spooning it into your mouth.My 63 year old uncle brought me a cup of water and held it for me to drink from.Boy! oh boy!!
What an experience…!!!!!Touching everyone’s feet during the blessing ceremony(including my cousin who is just 9 months older to me! Ha!It probably is gonna be the most cherished moment of her life),commenting furiously during every video shoot,keeping everyone in splits with self deprecatory comments,meeting people whom I have not seen in a long while and some whom I had never met but heard of(Radhika aunty and my cusin Harsha, who had never met me, came for the wedding and was I touched!!) and even more people I did not know existed.Sounds exhausting? Yes , it is…but its also exhilarating….The maddening videographer and photographer ,who keep encouraging you to smile when all u feel like doing is turning your back on them and doing a bumshake, do take the prize for being the most patient human beings I have met in my life.Remarkable!!
If you are Indian then the sheer energy,time and money spent on your marriage is enuf to sustain you thru it for nearly 50 years ….cos most likely you are broke and really cant afford to get married a second time!!!
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
My tryst with perfection
Having had 3 weeks of vacation mercilessly swallowed up in the whirlwind of a marriage and its allied functions,I found myself on the flight back to Los Angeles with the man I fell in love with sitting next to me,long legs stretched out to the max. Anyway on the flight we were watching the movie dhamaal when all of a sudden it dawned upon me that my hubby looks a lot like Hrithesh Deshmukh!!!! I can imagine the Tapori gang hooting with laughter at that.I assure you (haughtily) he does look like Hrithesh Desmukh.Or maybe the Desmukh dude resembles my hubby a bit.They have different mannerisms but they do look a bit similar.
I don’t know why but people keep asking me how does it feel to be married.Am I supposed to feel different?It seems to be the kind of question you are asked when you just won the Miss World title.Well….I honestly don’t feel any different.It felt good to be with him earlier and now it still does feel good…nothing has changed…well…maybe I have a little bit of extra work in terms of ironing my hubby’s clothes and making regular meals plus crazy debates with self on what curry to be cooked for what meal.
Anyway back home on Sunday evening,we set about unpacking the four suitcases we brought along and finding a place for each and everything.Being a studio,the only way to keep the place habitable was to keep things as neat and tidy as possible.I unpacked my clothes and popped the ironed piles into the shelves and drawers that Sangeetha had vacated.My own designated shelves were a chaos which I blithely shut my eyes to….well…until my poor hubby asked me in bewilderment if I could spare atleast one drawer for him to put away his stuff.I stood still and stared in shock at my new roommate who is to stick with me in all the rooms I stay in for the rest of my life.I tried to make some space for him in the cupboard and finally we ended up stuffing his things in along with my unruly dupattas which were waiting to be ironed.The next day after he left for work (I had one more day to relax and get my life in order),I turned out the kitchen cabinets and worked hard at organizing the space.By lunch time I had started on the clothes cupboard.I stuffed my unironed unruly salwars into one drawer and managed to close it.By then it resembled the proverbial Pandora’s box with multicolored dupattas and salwars bursting out the moment you opened the drawer.Finally,I managed to clear out 50 percent of the cupboard space and felt quite pleased with myself.Let it not be said that I don’t give my hubby his space.After all Cupboard space is an important aspect of personal space in a marriage.
In the meantime I had managed to make the dough for chappathis which we were to have for dinner and figured out how to keep the bedsheet from slipping out of place each time I even sat on the bed.I felt that I was the perfect wife except that I had not yet bathed.Cripes!!I looked a major mess.My hair desperately needed a shampoo and a good soak in oil.I eyed the clock and decided I had the time to bathe and look gorgeous and sweet smelling by the time my tired hubby reached home.At this point I had a mental argument on the advisability of rolling out chappathis after my bath and getting covered in flour.Regretfully I decided to forgo the idea of looking gorgeous and to bathe at night before going to bed and anyway my hubby was due home any moment now.I made the peas curry for dinner and sat down to relax for a minute.I was debating on whether I should ring up my hubby to find out where he is so that I could have a hot coffee ready for him the moment he stepped into the house (I do sound obsessed ) when jetlag and hardwork caught up and before I knew it I was asleep on the bed .All the good things in life are short lived and especially if you are trying to be compulsively perfect.The doorbell rang and a tired me opened the door to find the gorgeous hubby standing outside with a smile and a new pressure cooker.I immediately set about making his coffee and then rolled out the chappathis.Then I ironed the clothes he was to wear to office the next day.To all you men out there who are considering pointing me out to your wives as a role model,please do pray that I am able to stick to ironing the man’s clothes.(Cos he does look real good in ironed clothes).Dont ask me why I want to stick to it.I don’t know why except that there is this inexplicable urge to spoil the man cos he has never had anyone to pamper him as far as I know.
Then I cooked the chappathis .He loved my curry and it inspired me to start cooking the next day’s lunch which we were planning to take to office.The menu was green gram mizhukuperatty,rice and egg curry.The eggs were boiled and I decided to postpone my bath till the next day morning.I set the alarm to ring at 7 .I made a good egg curry and the mizhukuperatty.I had put the rice to cook in the new cooker when I had begun on my curry and had been a bit confused as to the quantity of water to be added as I was used to smaller cookers.I had finished the curry and still not a single whistle had come from the cooker.I was puzzled and decided to inspect.
My hubby came out of his bath to find me looking miserably into the cooker which had some badly burnt rice.He laughed his head off and told me we could eat out for lunch.He popped the curry into the fridge and ate up the mizhukuperatty and sent me off to bathe.I bathed and came to office.Suresh(Anup’s former roomie) has invited him over to dinner tonight and am to be left alone with leftovers from our Chinese lunch and my egg curry for company but the truth be told ,after a day of playing at being the perfect wife I need a break….!!!
I wish I had learnt to give up but being born to a superwoman who juggled a job , her husband and 2 kids and still managed to pack lunchboxes of puris and peas curry ,toasted potato sandwiches,cutlets and what not ,washed and ironed a weeks worth of clothes for her family,swept and mopped a huge house,never had a housemaid for years and still managed to look lovely,I cant help but set myself the same standards to follow considering I have no kids,live in a studio which is carpeted and needs to be vaccummed just once a week, .Sounds reasonable ,doesn’t it?
P.S.Later when I recounted this story to our friend,Veda,,he told me that Anup eats anything and I should have told simply told Anup that the it was brown rice and made him eat it.
I don’t know why but people keep asking me how does it feel to be married.Am I supposed to feel different?It seems to be the kind of question you are asked when you just won the Miss World title.Well….I honestly don’t feel any different.It felt good to be with him earlier and now it still does feel good…nothing has changed…well…maybe I have a little bit of extra work in terms of ironing my hubby’s clothes and making regular meals plus crazy debates with self on what curry to be cooked for what meal.
Anyway back home on Sunday evening,we set about unpacking the four suitcases we brought along and finding a place for each and everything.Being a studio,the only way to keep the place habitable was to keep things as neat and tidy as possible.I unpacked my clothes and popped the ironed piles into the shelves and drawers that Sangeetha had vacated.My own designated shelves were a chaos which I blithely shut my eyes to….well…until my poor hubby asked me in bewilderment if I could spare atleast one drawer for him to put away his stuff.I stood still and stared in shock at my new roommate who is to stick with me in all the rooms I stay in for the rest of my life.I tried to make some space for him in the cupboard and finally we ended up stuffing his things in along with my unruly dupattas which were waiting to be ironed.The next day after he left for work (I had one more day to relax and get my life in order),I turned out the kitchen cabinets and worked hard at organizing the space.By lunch time I had started on the clothes cupboard.I stuffed my unironed unruly salwars into one drawer and managed to close it.By then it resembled the proverbial Pandora’s box with multicolored dupattas and salwars bursting out the moment you opened the drawer.Finally,I managed to clear out 50 percent of the cupboard space and felt quite pleased with myself.Let it not be said that I don’t give my hubby his space.After all Cupboard space is an important aspect of personal space in a marriage.
In the meantime I had managed to make the dough for chappathis which we were to have for dinner and figured out how to keep the bedsheet from slipping out of place each time I even sat on the bed.I felt that I was the perfect wife except that I had not yet bathed.Cripes!!I looked a major mess.My hair desperately needed a shampoo and a good soak in oil.I eyed the clock and decided I had the time to bathe and look gorgeous and sweet smelling by the time my tired hubby reached home.At this point I had a mental argument on the advisability of rolling out chappathis after my bath and getting covered in flour.Regretfully I decided to forgo the idea of looking gorgeous and to bathe at night before going to bed and anyway my hubby was due home any moment now.I made the peas curry for dinner and sat down to relax for a minute.I was debating on whether I should ring up my hubby to find out where he is so that I could have a hot coffee ready for him the moment he stepped into the house (I do sound obsessed ) when jetlag and hardwork caught up and before I knew it I was asleep on the bed .All the good things in life are short lived and especially if you are trying to be compulsively perfect.The doorbell rang and a tired me opened the door to find the gorgeous hubby standing outside with a smile and a new pressure cooker.I immediately set about making his coffee and then rolled out the chappathis.Then I ironed the clothes he was to wear to office the next day.To all you men out there who are considering pointing me out to your wives as a role model,please do pray that I am able to stick to ironing the man’s clothes.(Cos he does look real good in ironed clothes).Dont ask me why I want to stick to it.I don’t know why except that there is this inexplicable urge to spoil the man cos he has never had anyone to pamper him as far as I know.
Then I cooked the chappathis .He loved my curry and it inspired me to start cooking the next day’s lunch which we were planning to take to office.The menu was green gram mizhukuperatty,rice and egg curry.The eggs were boiled and I decided to postpone my bath till the next day morning.I set the alarm to ring at 7 .I made a good egg curry and the mizhukuperatty.I had put the rice to cook in the new cooker when I had begun on my curry and had been a bit confused as to the quantity of water to be added as I was used to smaller cookers.I had finished the curry and still not a single whistle had come from the cooker.I was puzzled and decided to inspect.
My hubby came out of his bath to find me looking miserably into the cooker which had some badly burnt rice.He laughed his head off and told me we could eat out for lunch.He popped the curry into the fridge and ate up the mizhukuperatty and sent me off to bathe.I bathed and came to office.Suresh(Anup’s former roomie) has invited him over to dinner tonight and am to be left alone with leftovers from our Chinese lunch and my egg curry for company but the truth be told ,after a day of playing at being the perfect wife I need a break….!!!
I wish I had learnt to give up but being born to a superwoman who juggled a job , her husband and 2 kids and still managed to pack lunchboxes of puris and peas curry ,toasted potato sandwiches,cutlets and what not ,washed and ironed a weeks worth of clothes for her family,swept and mopped a huge house,never had a housemaid for years and still managed to look lovely,I cant help but set myself the same standards to follow considering I have no kids,live in a studio which is carpeted and needs to be vaccummed just once a week, .Sounds reasonable ,doesn’t it?
P.S.Later when I recounted this story to our friend,Veda,,he told me that Anup eats anything and I should have told simply told Anup that the it was brown rice and made him eat it.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
As I move into the light
Farewell....to my dear friends who are still wandering blindly in the alleys of "single-hood"(bachelorhood can be applied only to the male members).As I step into the light on Jan 20th ,I pity you all your lost meanderings thru the tunnels of darkness and remember you all fondly.
Thank you….to my dear friends who have already fallen into the well of matrimony for the enthusiasm you show in dragging me too there.
(Enna kolupu le !)Santhosh,wisely has chosen to follow my path and I welcome and appreciate his wisdom.To the rest,I hope you will all take the wise decision soon and…..follow me …. …jump into the marital well!!!!!
All comments are invited and appreciated.
P.S. Please don’t try the same old boring beaten comment abt how Anup is the one who fell into the well!!!
Thank you….to my dear friends who have already fallen into the well of matrimony for the enthusiasm you show in dragging me too there.
(Enna kolupu le !)Santhosh,wisely has chosen to follow my path and I welcome and appreciate his wisdom.To the rest,I hope you will all take the wise decision soon and…..follow me …. …jump into the marital well!!!!!
All comments are invited and appreciated.
P.S. Please don’t try the same old boring beaten comment abt how Anup is the one who fell into the well!!!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Lost...!
Sitting in office and swatting imaginery flies can be quite exhausting.So I decided to scratch down something.None of my posts are written in any chronological order.Rather they are simply penned (or rather keyed) as and when my fingers start itching to let loose a work of art ( Now don’t start shaking ur heads at me,ppl).So here goes one of those incidents which happened a few months ago and came back to my mind for no reason at all…This happened some time during the first ten days of my stay in L.A…We had just moved in to a new apartment and I was told to reach office by ten in the morn and stay late(Life at onsite is no cakewalk,jaani)…My roomies had left to office early in the morn and had given me instructions on the bus routes and changes.Needless to say,I have never been much good at remembering instructions and pretty soon had lost most of the information related to the bus stop names.
Ok…cut the crap.I forgot all the bus stop names….and trust me,out here they have real weird ones….For instance Rimpau,Normandie,Hobart,Ogden….Have got used to them now….but once upon a time, they drove me nuts….Ok, So on that fine day,convinced of my abilities to recall the stop names when I read the sign boards put up at each stop.I walked down to the nearest busstop and got onto the first bus that came along and paid my fare without incident.Now started the task of making my memory work for me.I had read somewhere that you know most things.Its just that you don’t remember them.So if u try to convince ur brain that you had forgotten something but you know it, it automatically brings up the information you need.(Hope I have managed to confuse you).So I tried telling myself that I just had to see the name on the stop board to remember it.I read all the bus stop names that we passed but nothing seemed to ring a bell.Finally at one traffic signal the bus driver turned round and said something to me which I did not quite understand.So I put on my best smile and asked him in my politest tone “I beg your pardon?”I am very sorry to say that the man very rudely snapped at me “Last stop.Get out!!!”.I grabbed my bag and scrammed.
Now to all you wise guys out there who are shaking ur heads at me and wondering why I did not make a call to someone for help, lemme tell u I had no cell fone since I had landed in the country just 4 days earlier.As for cabs, I cud not see a cab in sight.Anway, standing on the curb watching cars whizz by me,I felt quite lost.I did not even have a friend I cud call for help and even if I did call I had no clue where I was to direct them to come and pick me up.It was precisely at this moment that my eye fell on someone.A sardar.Our very own Sardarji.Now contrary to all the jokes that are cracked abt them, there is something very heartening and comforting about a sardar.There is no one who looks as Indian as a Sardar,if u ask me.
So to me this short roly poly guy was a godsend.and he looked equally delighted to see a fellow Indian.He smiled at me and I smiled right back.He came upto me and said”Namaste” and I replied with a bright “Namaste” he asked if I was from India and I replied affirmative.Before I cud appeal to his kindness to light the way to my office,the man started saying “Main aapka chehra dekhke bata sakta hoon ki aapka bahut achcha time shuru hua hai.Aapke upar bhagwaan ka bahut bada aashirwaad hai.Pichle chaar saal aapka time bahut kharaab tha.2006,2005,2004 aur 2003 bilkul kharaab time tha aapke liya.lekin is saal,2007, aapka time badalne wala hai.In fact, yeh saal aapka sabse achcha time hai.Ab se aapko koi chinta nahin hogi”The man pauses for breath while I stare at him in sheer horror.I don’t believe my ears.The last four years were bad for me? The last 4 years I have been in my own country and have never been lost even when I went out at 3 in the morn.In the last four years no matter where I was, I always had friends around to help me out and a cell fone at hand to call them…!.In 2007 I am stranded in a strange country without a cell fone and not one person to help me.I did not even know the address of the stupid office and I was late by 20 min.I see a sardar whom I thot wud be my lifeline to reach office and he turns out to be spouting nonsense at me…. and he says that this year is my best year???I was outraged and before I cud express my feelings, the man hold out his hand and says “Aaapka haath dikhayiye”.I pulled my hand behind me childishly and asked him “kyun?”.”Main ek astrologer hoon.Main aapka bhavishya bathaoonga.Dhikhayiye.Paise to aap jo chaahe dey sakte ho” I gave him my most disdainful look and said “No, thank you”.And looked round desperately wondering how in the good wide world wud I find my way to office.He continued “aap haat to dikhayiye.India mein kahan se ho aap?”.I decided the safest thing for me to do wud be to cross the road and hurried to the nearest intersection.
Finally through a lot of lucky guesses I reached office, 40 min late.As I entered office the thought which flashed thru my head was “What profession did that sardar specify when he got his US visa stamped?”
The story does not end there.I mentioned this incident to one of my closest friends,Praveen.Now Praveen and I joined our first team at Cognizant together(Well,He came a day late) and I was the chatterbox while Praveen opened his mouth maybe about once in a month at which we wud all collectively faint.Before u all let ur imaginations running away wildly with u,lemme tell you that it was cos he wud come up with some super duper homerun of a funny comment or retort which left me blinking in total shock and the rest of the crowd rolling with laughter.Especially when I tried his patience a bit too much. I used to tease him saying that his pet frog resided in his mouth and he wud not open his mouth for the fear that the froggy wud jump out and I even brought a big green rubber frog to office just to tease him.Even when I said the most outrageously funny things the man wud not even crack a smile and the one or two times he did, I knew I had cracked a masterpiece of a joke…and on the very rare occasions the man deigned to laugh, it wud come out as a great heaving " he..he..."and u wud not even see any of his teeth...For nearly a year ,I managed to con the folks on the team into believing that Pappu had no teeth...Anyway, all this was only for the first one year.At the end of the first year, tired of my teasing, Pappu gave up his attempt to maintain his maun vrat and started talking (Read,making spectacular comments) if only to shut me up which made me think twice before I teased him.He is still one of the funniest guys I know..Coming back to my mistake in sharing the sardar incident with Pappu, a few days later a mail from Pappu circulated amongst our gang retelling the sardar’s story albeit from the Sardar’s angle and I still strongly believe that it was Pappu’s way of getting back at me for all the times I tried his patience in the 2 and half years I had know him….Below is the unabridged mail ……
Sardarji story goes like this...
One fine day... a poor sardarji was jogging through a busy street of Los Angeles. He was little nervous that day because before starting from home he checked his daily astrological predictions. It said... "You will enjoy peace and harmony at home. Keep your senses alert and avoid any situation of enmity. Even if life flows as usual, be aware – there might be powerful enemies on your way. People you are financially dependent upon will be in a helpful mood. They may help you to save a situation."
He had a second thought about his plan to go out for jogging... invite trouble going out or stay peacefully at home? He was confused... finally he decided to go out.... Punjab ka puthar...decided to face the trouble as it comes. Hardly he has gone for a mile. "Namaste ji..." one female voice interrupted him on the way. He was very conscious about the predictions and tried to avoid the "enemy" by just not listening to that voice. He continued without turning back.
But what to do... that voice followed him. "Sardarji bhayyaaa...." He felt that the voice is coming closer and closer. For a moment, he cursed his decision to go out. But suddenly he prepared his mind to face the challenge, turned back and got shocked. "Adi paaveee… (ELT training in st. joseph's college made him to say that at least.) ek Hindustani ladki...my enemy…10000 miles away from my home land…. she traveled all this way here… just to trouble me”. Be careful!!! he cautioned himself. He was searching for some filmy tricks that can be used to get rid of that girl. But could not find... "hhmmm.... I will use the same astrology technique here to escape" he decided in mind.
"Bhayya... bhayya... My name is Amapuna. I came recently to US. Lost my way to office... could you please help me?" she started screaming. He knew that this is a tricky question and knew that it will take him to unnecessary troubles if he answers that question. "from your face I can read... you have faced lot of problem in past. but your good time starts right now... right here. You have met the right person. In fact I was looking for such a person… … show your hand, you will have good fortune… I am good in astrology... just give me some $s and I can predict your future..."
She didn't allow him to finish... "escape da goyyal". Since the sardarji got onsite opportunity immediately after the ELT training he could not understand what she said. Anyway it was a good show by him... he patted his shoulder and thanked god for giving such a wonderful idea.
You might have read many sardarji jokes... but this is a real incident showing a sardarji's courage and good presence of mind. Beware you could be next sardarji...be prepared... :-) ………….
Chuckle….Another homerun,Wicked Pappu ,and to all u nutcases who are cheering on Pappu,have mercy on me,dudes and dudettes….!
Ok…cut the crap.I forgot all the bus stop names….and trust me,out here they have real weird ones….For instance Rimpau,Normandie,Hobart,Ogden….Have got used to them now….but once upon a time, they drove me nuts….Ok, So on that fine day,convinced of my abilities to recall the stop names when I read the sign boards put up at each stop.I walked down to the nearest busstop and got onto the first bus that came along and paid my fare without incident.Now started the task of making my memory work for me.I had read somewhere that you know most things.Its just that you don’t remember them.So if u try to convince ur brain that you had forgotten something but you know it, it automatically brings up the information you need.(Hope I have managed to confuse you).So I tried telling myself that I just had to see the name on the stop board to remember it.I read all the bus stop names that we passed but nothing seemed to ring a bell.Finally at one traffic signal the bus driver turned round and said something to me which I did not quite understand.So I put on my best smile and asked him in my politest tone “I beg your pardon?”I am very sorry to say that the man very rudely snapped at me “Last stop.Get out!!!”.I grabbed my bag and scrammed.
Now to all you wise guys out there who are shaking ur heads at me and wondering why I did not make a call to someone for help, lemme tell u I had no cell fone since I had landed in the country just 4 days earlier.As for cabs, I cud not see a cab in sight.Anway, standing on the curb watching cars whizz by me,I felt quite lost.I did not even have a friend I cud call for help and even if I did call I had no clue where I was to direct them to come and pick me up.It was precisely at this moment that my eye fell on someone.A sardar.Our very own Sardarji.Now contrary to all the jokes that are cracked abt them, there is something very heartening and comforting about a sardar.There is no one who looks as Indian as a Sardar,if u ask me.
So to me this short roly poly guy was a godsend.and he looked equally delighted to see a fellow Indian.He smiled at me and I smiled right back.He came upto me and said”Namaste” and I replied with a bright “Namaste” he asked if I was from India and I replied affirmative.Before I cud appeal to his kindness to light the way to my office,the man started saying “Main aapka chehra dekhke bata sakta hoon ki aapka bahut achcha time shuru hua hai.Aapke upar bhagwaan ka bahut bada aashirwaad hai.Pichle chaar saal aapka time bahut kharaab tha.2006,2005,2004 aur 2003 bilkul kharaab time tha aapke liya.lekin is saal,2007, aapka time badalne wala hai.In fact, yeh saal aapka sabse achcha time hai.Ab se aapko koi chinta nahin hogi”The man pauses for breath while I stare at him in sheer horror.I don’t believe my ears.The last four years were bad for me? The last 4 years I have been in my own country and have never been lost even when I went out at 3 in the morn.In the last four years no matter where I was, I always had friends around to help me out and a cell fone at hand to call them…!.In 2007 I am stranded in a strange country without a cell fone and not one person to help me.I did not even know the address of the stupid office and I was late by 20 min.I see a sardar whom I thot wud be my lifeline to reach office and he turns out to be spouting nonsense at me…. and he says that this year is my best year???I was outraged and before I cud express my feelings, the man hold out his hand and says “Aaapka haath dikhayiye”.I pulled my hand behind me childishly and asked him “kyun?”.”Main ek astrologer hoon.Main aapka bhavishya bathaoonga.Dhikhayiye.Paise to aap jo chaahe dey sakte ho” I gave him my most disdainful look and said “No, thank you”.And looked round desperately wondering how in the good wide world wud I find my way to office.He continued “aap haat to dikhayiye.India mein kahan se ho aap?”.I decided the safest thing for me to do wud be to cross the road and hurried to the nearest intersection.
Finally through a lot of lucky guesses I reached office, 40 min late.As I entered office the thought which flashed thru my head was “What profession did that sardar specify when he got his US visa stamped?”
The story does not end there.I mentioned this incident to one of my closest friends,Praveen.Now Praveen and I joined our first team at Cognizant together(Well,He came a day late) and I was the chatterbox while Praveen opened his mouth maybe about once in a month at which we wud all collectively faint.Before u all let ur imaginations running away wildly with u,lemme tell you that it was cos he wud come up with some super duper homerun of a funny comment or retort which left me blinking in total shock and the rest of the crowd rolling with laughter.Especially when I tried his patience a bit too much. I used to tease him saying that his pet frog resided in his mouth and he wud not open his mouth for the fear that the froggy wud jump out and I even brought a big green rubber frog to office just to tease him.Even when I said the most outrageously funny things the man wud not even crack a smile and the one or two times he did, I knew I had cracked a masterpiece of a joke…and on the very rare occasions the man deigned to laugh, it wud come out as a great heaving " he..he..."and u wud not even see any of his teeth...For nearly a year ,I managed to con the folks on the team into believing that Pappu had no teeth...Anyway, all this was only for the first one year.At the end of the first year, tired of my teasing, Pappu gave up his attempt to maintain his maun vrat and started talking (Read,making spectacular comments) if only to shut me up which made me think twice before I teased him.He is still one of the funniest guys I know..Coming back to my mistake in sharing the sardar incident with Pappu, a few days later a mail from Pappu circulated amongst our gang retelling the sardar’s story albeit from the Sardar’s angle and I still strongly believe that it was Pappu’s way of getting back at me for all the times I tried his patience in the 2 and half years I had know him….Below is the unabridged mail ……
Sardarji story goes like this...
One fine day... a poor sardarji was jogging through a busy street of Los Angeles. He was little nervous that day because before starting from home he checked his daily astrological predictions. It said... "You will enjoy peace and harmony at home. Keep your senses alert and avoid any situation of enmity. Even if life flows as usual, be aware – there might be powerful enemies on your way. People you are financially dependent upon will be in a helpful mood. They may help you to save a situation."
He had a second thought about his plan to go out for jogging... invite trouble going out or stay peacefully at home? He was confused... finally he decided to go out.... Punjab ka puthar...decided to face the trouble as it comes. Hardly he has gone for a mile. "Namaste ji..." one female voice interrupted him on the way. He was very conscious about the predictions and tried to avoid the "enemy" by just not listening to that voice. He continued without turning back.
But what to do... that voice followed him. "Sardarji bhayyaaa...." He felt that the voice is coming closer and closer. For a moment, he cursed his decision to go out. But suddenly he prepared his mind to face the challenge, turned back and got shocked. "Adi paaveee… (ELT training in st. joseph's college made him to say that at least.) ek Hindustani ladki...my enemy…10000 miles away from my home land…. she traveled all this way here… just to trouble me”. Be careful!!! he cautioned himself. He was searching for some filmy tricks that can be used to get rid of that girl. But could not find... "hhmmm.... I will use the same astrology technique here to escape" he decided in mind.
"Bhayya... bhayya... My name is Amapuna. I came recently to US. Lost my way to office... could you please help me?" she started screaming. He knew that this is a tricky question and knew that it will take him to unnecessary troubles if he answers that question. "from your face I can read... you have faced lot of problem in past. but your good time starts right now... right here. You have met the right person. In fact I was looking for such a person… … show your hand, you will have good fortune… I am good in astrology... just give me some $s and I can predict your future..."
She didn't allow him to finish... "escape da goyyal". Since the sardarji got onsite opportunity immediately after the ELT training he could not understand what she said. Anyway it was a good show by him... he patted his shoulder and thanked god for giving such a wonderful idea.
You might have read many sardarji jokes... but this is a real incident showing a sardarji's courage and good presence of mind. Beware you could be next sardarji...be prepared... :-) ………….
Chuckle….Another homerun,Wicked Pappu ,and to all u nutcases who are cheering on Pappu,have mercy on me,dudes and dudettes….!
Monday, December 3, 2007
Aftermath...
Just 2 days before I left for LA, we had a near fatal accident.My brother was driving and we got hit by a KSRTC bus...I wud rather not go into the details but it left me shook for a variety of reasons.A few months later some of my lil bro's friends were involved in a tragic accident resulting in one boy's death.It brought back the same feelings with so much intensity that I had penned a few lines to put the incident out of my mind.Today I just happened to come across the same and decided to post it.
A prayer whispered in a happy moment
with no foresight but just love beyond compare
A feather brush with death but no harm done
a stunning revelation of faith kept unbroken
bringing with it the urge to gather beloved ones close to the heart
knowledge that this would not keep them out of harm's way
That death may still be but a step behind
Thankful that the prayer was granted
The awful certainity of being meant to lose
writ in destiny with alarming clarity
Dreadful thoughts of what might have been
Wonder if not for those simple words of faith
would there have been survival or would it have turned out to be merely existing
with a loss so deep
a pain too intense for tears to form
making it easier to stay numb,not think
For thinking brings memories
memories lead to feeling
feelings to pain
Pain so unbearable
that shedding tears will not soothe
if flow they must then so hard they should
that the heart should split open
Otherwise,meant to ease,they are nothing but
acid drops from the sky
A prayer whispered in a happy moment
with no foresight but just love beyond compare
A feather brush with death but no harm done
a stunning revelation of faith kept unbroken
bringing with it the urge to gather beloved ones close to the heart
knowledge that this would not keep them out of harm's way
That death may still be but a step behind
Thankful that the prayer was granted
The awful certainity of being meant to lose
writ in destiny with alarming clarity
Dreadful thoughts of what might have been
Wonder if not for those simple words of faith
would there have been survival or would it have turned out to be merely existing
with a loss so deep
a pain too intense for tears to form
making it easier to stay numb,not think
For thinking brings memories
memories lead to feeling
feelings to pain
Pain so unbearable
that shedding tears will not soothe
if flow they must then so hard they should
that the heart should split open
Otherwise,meant to ease,they are nothing but
acid drops from the sky
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
