Showing posts with label Looking Back. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Looking Back. Show all posts
Saturday, August 4
Monday, March 12
Let things be
sometimes it is best to let things be. Especially if they are memories that make you wear rose colored glasses when you look back at them.
So, when someone from the past wants to catch up. you are excited.
After all, it is a slice of life that you have left behind, it will remind you of when you were younger, had more hair on the head, lesser hair on the face, when your 'skinny jeans' still fit you, and when you could hear whistles as you walked by a group of boys.
Who wouldn't want to remind self of such a beautiful time?
And, then.
While you get all readied up to meet and greet this person and your past. You realize. It is best to let things be.
You dont want to see your Ex now bald or pot bellied, or having turned out completely different from how the younger you would imagine he would look like 10 years from hence.
Or Worse. You wont want to know that your Ex turned out exactly how you imagined he would be 10 years from thence, and feel bad about yourself with your receding hairline and your love handles which could seat two, and your disillusioned eyes.
you have what you want on an online photo gallery. you have what you want in the now-manipulated-and-distorted-with-nostalgia hallways of your memory palace.
So, when someone from the past wants to catch up. you are excited.
Who wouldn't want to remind self of such a beautiful time?
While you get all readied up to meet and greet this person and your past. You realize. It is best to let things be.
You dont want to see your Ex now bald or pot bellied, or having turned out completely different from how the younger you would imagine he would look like 10 years from hence.
Or Worse. You wont want to know that your Ex turned out exactly how you imagined he would be 10 years from thence, and feel bad about yourself with your receding hairline and your love handles which could seat two, and your disillusioned eyes.
you have what you want on an online photo gallery. you have what you want in the now-manipulated-and-distorted-with-nostalgia hallways of your memory palace.
Sunday, April 17
Making Memories
**senti post ahead - warning**
Remember when dad used to sing in the loo? Remember when mom used to recite her favorite hymns? Remember that sumptous meal that gran cooked up for every festival (especially the obbatu*?) Remember sleeping with grandad under a starry night listening to his stories? Remember when life was still all about kicking off your school shoes, wriggling out of your school uniform & getting into that comfortable bermudas and banian and running out to play ignoring mom's threats about broken legs?
most of the times its fun, but yes, sometimes it hurts.
Remember when dad used to sing in the loo? Remember when mom used to recite her favorite hymns? Remember that sumptous meal that gran cooked up for every festival (especially the obbatu*?) Remember sleeping with grandad under a starry night listening to his stories? Remember when life was still all about kicking off your school shoes, wriggling out of your school uniform & getting into that comfortable bermudas and banian and running out to play ignoring mom's threats about broken legs?
Everytime that songs plays on DD rangoli, everytime you hear a remix of mom's hymns, everytime its that festival, everytime you manage to use the trivia that grandad told you when you were a kid, everytime you spend your weekend in front of the computer because ..."well, there isnt anything else to do - is there?", these memories creep up.
I hope my daughter makes up her memories - I try singing the same lullabies that dad used to sing (terribly offkey though), try and put on the same hymns on the mobile (I never memorised them), try cooking up something each festival (though it hopelessly remains unedible), and play silly games with her - trying to relive my life through her, trying to make some memories for her. most of the times its fun, but yes, sometimes it hurts.
Wednesday, December 29
Mandatory decade ending post
so, the blogosphere is sure full of posts where they reminscise of the decade bygone, personal milestones, political upheaveals and etc., and hence the mandatory-ness (is that even a word) of this post.
The decade has been pretty interesting. Some of them not-so- interesting, and some parts so darn interesting, that I wish they never happened.
So while I can talk about how Y2K began with me passing out of 12th and 2010 is ending with me becoming a mother, and amid these two years, how I broke a heart, got a job, witnessed the death of a grandparent, flunked CA Final, got promoted, discovered blogger & orkut, lost my dad to death,got promoted, did a management course at the IIM, got promoted, got to be a part of one of the biggest corporate mergers of the decade, fell in love, got promoted, made new friends, left some off, got promoted, got heart broken, got married, bought a house, tried making it a home, undertook the biggest loan of my life ever till date, got pregnant n a mom to a beautiful baby girl,
i'll prefer to hope that the next decade is happier than the last decade and yes, just as interesting, but with a few parts where I lose people to death skipped.
The decade has been pretty interesting. Some of them not-so- interesting, and some parts so darn interesting, that I wish they never happened.
So while I can talk about how Y2K began with me passing out of 12th and 2010 is ending with me becoming a mother, and amid these two years, how I broke a heart, got a job, witnessed the death of a grandparent, flunked CA Final, got promoted, discovered blogger & orkut, lost my dad to death,got promoted, did a management course at the IIM, got promoted, got to be a part of one of the biggest corporate mergers of the decade, fell in love, got promoted, made new friends, left some off, got promoted, got heart broken, got married, bought a house, tried making it a home, undertook the biggest loan of my life ever till date, got pregnant n a mom to a beautiful baby girl,
i'll prefer to hope that the next decade is happier than the last decade and yes, just as interesting, but with a few parts where I lose people to death skipped.
Monday, August 24
a pithy excuse for a post after 2 months. :P Chow!
Random.ransom.handsome.gruesome.whatever.bored.board.curd.whatever.Irritated.frustrated.flustered.blistered.whatever.
It hurts. Always. Memories. Would have been good to be an amnesiac. Ghajini?
Good memories, happy memories, smelly memories, sweet tasting, sugary syrupy memories – they all hurt. Always hurt.
Memories of places, of cobblestones, of peeling paint of narrow by lanes, of street corners overflowing with garbage cans, of familiar scents, wispy faint smell of aging books, of cologne and shaving cream, of chest hair and the sweaty smell of the arms on the hair, of sickly sweet cough drops and of damp dark places, of deep seated pain, of the stinking stench of broken hearts, of late nights and cold draughts, of colors and emotions, the vermillion of marriage, the red of unending hate, the sickly pale jaundiced yellow of stale salty tears shed over undeserving love, the dirty moss filled green of jealousy, the damp dark black of dejection and humiliation, they always hurt. The brown scabs of healing wounds, the orange hues of a new dawn, the white re-whitewashed life, the memories left behind, the memories taken along, the memories being formed, the memories being destroyed.
It hurts. Always. Memories.
In other news – caught up with a couple of friends, that was really overdue, Anu really. Thanks. Jab We Met. Missed Anu, missed komal. Missed so many misses and misters. Miss Mr. Hubby Dearest tons. (waise, miss Mr. seems so funny no?). bored actually. Nostalgia catches up, cant wait for the future to unfold though.
It hurts. Always. Memories. Would have been good to be an amnesiac. Ghajini?
Good memories, happy memories, smelly memories, sweet tasting, sugary syrupy memories – they all hurt. Always hurt.
Memories of places, of cobblestones, of peeling paint of narrow by lanes, of street corners overflowing with garbage cans, of familiar scents, wispy faint smell of aging books, of cologne and shaving cream, of chest hair and the sweaty smell of the arms on the hair, of sickly sweet cough drops and of damp dark places, of deep seated pain, of the stinking stench of broken hearts, of late nights and cold draughts, of colors and emotions, the vermillion of marriage, the red of unending hate, the sickly pale jaundiced yellow of stale salty tears shed over undeserving love, the dirty moss filled green of jealousy, the damp dark black of dejection and humiliation, they always hurt. The brown scabs of healing wounds, the orange hues of a new dawn, the white re-whitewashed life, the memories left behind, the memories taken along, the memories being formed, the memories being destroyed.
It hurts. Always. Memories.
In other news – caught up with a couple of friends, that was really overdue, Anu really. Thanks. Jab We Met. Missed Anu, missed komal. Missed so many misses and misters. Miss Mr. Hubby Dearest tons. (waise, miss Mr. seems so funny no?). bored actually. Nostalgia catches up, cant wait for the future to unfold though.
Saturday, October 6
Reminscing
It was a time to think back on the third/ fourth grade science text book when the news channel aired the black and white images of Sputnik rushing off to space. The 50th year anniversary of man's foray into space; and the emerge of "star wars"; the epic moment of when fiction becomes fact is today, another day; which then, was a moment unparalleled in the history of mankind. While India rejoices on "her"(!!??) daughter Sunita William's glory in the world history ... I spent a few minutes thinking about my school teacher who made me spell Yuri Gagarin right, and admonished us kids for giggling over Laika - the first dog (or was it the monkey?) in space and got amused all over again with thoughts of what Maneka Gandhi would have told them on having blasted a poor animal to space. Today, space travel is the ultimate in showing off your obscene amounts of wealth. Recently, sitting at my Doc's clinic, I read about space sex ....hmmm... we-ll.... I guess space sex takes Pretty Woman to the next century eh?
Admid the Radio mirchis and Radio Citys and the Big Radios that the spectrum is clogged with these days, my late nights back home allow me to savor the flavor of the bygone times. Vividh Bharati. Not that I dont like the English muzik that spews from Radio Indigo or dont listen to stupid shayari that is aired on Radio City - here sample this-
"ye zaalim palat ke to dekh, hum bhi to dil rakhte hain
Tum car rakhte ho to kya? hum bhi rickshaw rakhte hain"
Vividh Bharati though holds a different place altogether in my heart. Inspite of its capacity to get hold of monotonous announcers who talk in deadpan voices over the years, inspite of its faux pas that it keeps committing by announcing one song and playing another, inspite of colleagues telling me Ive aged at 24; Vividh Bharati remains a personal favorite.
It celebrates its 50th year anniversary this month. It aired snippets of all the celebrities who had compered its shows like Jaymala and ek-hi-film se; celebrities like Balraj Sahni, Ashok Kumar (yes - he was young too - well, maybe), Dev Anand (can anyone call him old?), Gulzar, and many more whom I did not recognize; played songs that were pure platinum; some of the songs were Wa---yyy beyond me; but the general nostalgia bit me.
Was reminded of the days when we had a small black and white TV with no other channel but doordarshan - the TV was switched on only to listen to Gujrathi and Hindi news. Switching on TV in the mornings was a sin worse than murder; and my dad an avid music buff needed his daily dose of music while he shaved and showered. Dad found a way to bend his beloved wife's rules - switch on the radio - and hum along with it. Teach me songs and dance wierdly to its tunes making me laugh; while fending off questions like "why can you alone shave? why cant I?" and "why are you not shaving the hair on your head?"
A ladies man, my dad, would attract a lot of female attention in the Motinagar Society as he sang along to "Mere saamne wale khidki" , mom would get so irked and angry; and that was when dad would wait for a nice romantic song like "phoolon ke rang se" or " tum bin jeevan" to play and waltz into the kitchen to hold her in his arms and make her shake her head and sigh in resignation at her husband's antics.
I remember these scenes with so much clarity even after a good 17-18 years; a time when we werent too well off, the home was just three rooms - a kitchen, a hall and a bathroom-cum-toilet, but we were laughing, always. When the sound of dad's Silver Plus meant a chocolate and on Sundays, an outing to Lal Bagh. And Vividh bharati - and my dad's imitations of all the announcers and his sing along songs and women - even married- who always were vying for his attention :D (which of course used to make mom go soooo mad with jealousy).
Im glad I return late from office, in time to listen to Vividh bharati; even after 50 years, it still keeps putting people to sleep with its army of deadpan announcers. :-)
Tuesday, September 11
Finance it is then!
Sit down to work on a deadline, and suddenly the mind is befuddled by random lines
Breathe not the air of my city traveler
Set not a foot in the ruinous alleys here
Fumes of jealousy have poisoned the air
Stench of rotten corpses lurk in street corners
Coagulated blood shall hold you in its vice
Shards of a broken heart shall pierce your eyes
A battle has been fought here, warring chieftains lay dead there
The ego has triumphed and the love has been slain
Breathe not the air of my city traveler
Set not a foot in the ruinous alleys here
----------------------------
It’s a cold and lonely night out there
traveler
Come sit by me, warm yourself,
next to the fire
The pyre of my love still burns bright
The flames shall cackle all night.
----------------------------
will I never be alone?
I crave solitude
Forever refusing to leave my side is this moment
This moment of ages ago, the moment when I fell in love with you
----------------------------
a big Thank you and a nice hug to Prasoon who kept company when no else would bother about me ; thank you there dude :)
----------------------------
The finance classes at IIMB have made me happy beyond anything.
I love finance, and thats an added incentive.
The classes took me back to a time when dad was the banker, when decisions was something that adults took, when my cycle was my most prized possession, when the innocence of age made dreams look plausible, when my best friends were sitting right next to me giggling over my silly jokes or a good looking guy, when the most funny thing was the prof's inability to say an "R" after a hard consonant (his research was pronounced reseeche - he made up the lost R with extra Es), when the only aim in life was to answer the costing question before that irritating boy in the second bench did, when Gantts charts and Emerson's methods were the only 'difficult' ways bonuses could be calculated for non existent workers, when budgetary costing was a topic in a subject, and so were equity offerings and bond valuations, when profs called us 'kids' when CA was the be all and end all, when the bloom of innocent love was the most wonderful thing to happen - of shy dreams and stolen moments, when internet was available only in cyber cafes, when being told 'excellent presentation' was the highest point of life, when small fights were fought to sit on the 'cieling fan end' of the bench, when friends were just friends - people you could make mischief with, people who were just a few minutes away on a cycle, who stood by you like fevicol - even when you made a mistake, who called you 'dolly' or 'ent-ra',who fought for you one on three because someone made you cry, who passed silly chits in the CST class, who took the brunt for you in the Corp Law class, who did your homework for you because you were too 'busy' eating noodles with the man in your life, when ten rupees looked like a hundred thousand as you waved the note under your friend's noses and took them out to eat guvavas,when your friends' moms cooked nice stuff for you to eat as you stayed the whole day at their place for 'combined study', when your friends fought as to who should tie the friendship band first on your hand, when you recieved atleast a dozen greeting cards and equal number of roses on valentines, when you bullied your juniors, when you beat up that guy who dared to follow your friend home, when you had racing matches on your cycle, Sweet Magic and Hot Breads, friends who named each other Tommy, Jackie and Jimmy and made up silly songs like "oh tommy, tu meri sapnon ki kuttiya", when your prof told you he would love to have a daughter like you, when you stood peering out of your class windows nose stuck to the grills watching the men battle it out for some random girl, when the funniest person you'd seen was your sanskrit ma'm and the most bold thing for anyone to say was "I love you" esp if said in front of more than two people, when your worth was decided on how many marks youve got, when you sung "meri chunar ud ud jaaye" on your way to college,when you woke up at 8:30 AM to realise that you are at class and have missed the Company accounts class, but your friend has managed to jot down the entire class not only in her book, but yours as well, when you did not read a thing for the weekend exam, and copied from her paper - just to realise later as the prof handed out the graded papers that youve not only copied the content, but the name and Id number as well, when the marks depended on your handwriting...
Aaaahh, Finance. I love finance.
Breathe not the air of my city traveler
Set not a foot in the ruinous alleys here
Fumes of jealousy have poisoned the air
Stench of rotten corpses lurk in street corners
Coagulated blood shall hold you in its vice
Shards of a broken heart shall pierce your eyes
A battle has been fought here, warring chieftains lay dead there
The ego has triumphed and the love has been slain
Breathe not the air of my city traveler
Set not a foot in the ruinous alleys here
----------------------------
It’s a cold and lonely night out there
traveler
Come sit by me, warm yourself,
next to the fire
The pyre of my love still burns bright
The flames shall cackle all night.
----------------------------
will I never be alone?
I crave solitude
Forever refusing to leave my side is this moment
This moment of ages ago, the moment when I fell in love with you
----------------------------
a big Thank you and a nice hug to Prasoon who kept company when no else would bother about me ; thank you there dude :)
----------------------------
The finance classes at IIMB have made me happy beyond anything.
I love finance, and thats an added incentive.
The classes took me back to a time when dad was the banker, when decisions was something that adults took, when my cycle was my most prized possession, when the innocence of age made dreams look plausible, when my best friends were sitting right next to me giggling over my silly jokes or a good looking guy, when the most funny thing was the prof's inability to say an "R" after a hard consonant (his research was pronounced reseeche - he made up the lost R with extra Es), when the only aim in life was to answer the costing question before that irritating boy in the second bench did, when Gantts charts and Emerson's methods were the only 'difficult' ways bonuses could be calculated for non existent workers, when budgetary costing was a topic in a subject, and so were equity offerings and bond valuations, when profs called us 'kids' when CA was the be all and end all, when the bloom of innocent love was the most wonderful thing to happen - of shy dreams and stolen moments, when internet was available only in cyber cafes, when being told 'excellent presentation' was the highest point of life, when small fights were fought to sit on the 'cieling fan end' of the bench, when friends were just friends - people you could make mischief with, people who were just a few minutes away on a cycle, who stood by you like fevicol - even when you made a mistake, who called you 'dolly' or 'ent-ra',who fought for you one on three because someone made you cry, who passed silly chits in the CST class, who took the brunt for you in the Corp Law class, who did your homework for you because you were too 'busy' eating noodles with the man in your life, when ten rupees looked like a hundred thousand as you waved the note under your friend's noses and took them out to eat guvavas,when your friends' moms cooked nice stuff for you to eat as you stayed the whole day at their place for 'combined study', when your friends fought as to who should tie the friendship band first on your hand, when you recieved atleast a dozen greeting cards and equal number of roses on valentines, when you bullied your juniors, when you beat up that guy who dared to follow your friend home, when you had racing matches on your cycle, Sweet Magic and Hot Breads, friends who named each other Tommy, Jackie and Jimmy and made up silly songs like "oh tommy, tu meri sapnon ki kuttiya", when your prof told you he would love to have a daughter like you, when you stood peering out of your class windows nose stuck to the grills watching the men battle it out for some random girl, when the funniest person you'd seen was your sanskrit ma'm and the most bold thing for anyone to say was "I love you" esp if said in front of more than two people, when your worth was decided on how many marks youve got, when you sung "meri chunar ud ud jaaye" on your way to college,when you woke up at 8:30 AM to realise that you are at class and have missed the Company accounts class, but your friend has managed to jot down the entire class not only in her book, but yours as well, when you did not read a thing for the weekend exam, and copied from her paper - just to realise later as the prof handed out the graded papers that youve not only copied the content, but the name and Id number as well, when the marks depended on your handwriting...
Aaaahh, Finance. I love finance.
Monday, May 21
The Small Town Girl
Me thought, since we are on a spree to bare all, why not this incident?
Warning -
1.A certain degree of Rant mode is On,
2.The post may or may not be hilarious - it certainly is prejudiced
3.People who drink stay away - this prejudice is AGAINST them.
Let it not be said that JustSo did not warn you guys.
A small town girl,
A job in an MNC in a 'near' metro
A 4th of July office outing
A disc and a humongous number of drunk bastards.
What do you think this combination will give you?
If you are a die hard bollywood fan ( esp the bollywood when Mithun, Chunkey Pandey, Aditya Panscholi* and Govinda reigned supreme)and think this will result in the girl running through long deserted dim light corridors while the drunk bastards pursue her and ultimately, the girl slips and falls down, complete with wet-with-sweat-bosom-heaving and waist length hair sticking to her face .. her dupatta torn, having gotten stuck in one of the rose plants kept there, for no other reason but so that the thorns tear her duppatta out ... while the drunk bastards ( DB henceforth - Im too lazy to write the twp whole words) menacingly approach her, abuse her while she shouts out for her brother (or boy friend depending on who Govinda/ Mithun/ Chunkey Pandey et all are to her in the movie) and rape her, and leave her simpering in the dark corner of the corridor, until the brother/ boyfriend/ police find her and she decides to run and jump from the balcony and end her pathetic existence ... ( lalit exlains the concept of rape - complete with pictures here) ...you are so damn wrong dude!!!
Im as untouched as theVirgin Mary (oops wrong analogy - if you know wat I mean) err ... as the snow hat formed when the earth was a mass called pangea and is now under a mass of newly formed snow in Antartica. Okay - so you get the point.
Enough Digressing ( yes I know Ive put an asterix mark on Aditya Panscholi - read till the end to know why) I shall come back right to the point - complete with diagrams of the human anatomy. aah, I can see you drooling there - already - you h**** bastard.
okay - So here I am ... joined the company at the sweet age of 19 .. just a few days shy of her 20th birthday ( by the way why do they call it shy of nth birthday? I wasnt shy to be 20, In fact I was looking forward to it .. *sigh* anyways) ... 4th of July looms large - before you know it, its there - a week after her joining date.
The small town girl knew no holidays in her CA institute ( oh, BTW, they just replaced the word slavery with articleship in the websters ... you have to read the fine print to know that) ... 15th of August was called the Independence day. 4th of July was a bit of info that needed to be memorised and nothing more.
So, here she goes, all wide eyed and in awe of this company party with a busload of people she hardly knows. She's asked to enjoy herself - team building and socialising are the words.
She knows practically no one and feels lost and out of place- you have loud english music blaring from every corner of the resort. ( yeah we are taken out to a resort ever year) . Backstreet boys was one thing - all this crazy Engilpis was another.
Men were semi nude, and started jumping into the pool. The women - atleast the ones with bombshell figures started stripping too...
aiiyyyoooooo the smartha kannadiga brahmin that she is, it was all too much to take - men and women - aiyyooo!!!
Suddenly - like magic I say ... everyone dissapears - where to? hmmm this needs to be investigated.
There are thumping sounds coming from that end of the resort - maybe some carpenter is busy at his work ... well, better than looking at a pool that until a few minutes back held semi nude figures eh?
Walk on in the direction of the sound ... ohh! whats this smell? its stinking like a dead rat in a gutter full of shit! what IS this? Oh wait! This is the funny smell that the beer godown had ! The carpenter is drunk! OMG ! no Justso... havent you seen enough movies? stay away. Stay virgin.
What's this the team lead is walking on to this direction? Cling on to his shadow... walk along with him - maybe he knows where to go ( bilaady female - no sense of direction at all you have )
The teamlead is going towards the drunk carpenter - maybe I should warn him ... run JustSo- tell him
Ohh... this aint a carpenter - this is a muzik system .. its blaring out hip hop err... no, its blaring out some mindless Tamil song!
The girl manages to get in, for all her 19 years - she's learnt this - 1. drinking is a sin
2. people who drink are bad - they are the prem chopras and the helens .. you are the mumtaz and the waheeda rehman - you and drink dont go together
3. Disc floors are places where the vamp and the villian dance together or the brat daughter of that rich smuggler and just-returned-from -phoren hero dance : kannda smartha orthodox girls stay away from dance floors - even if they do go near such a floor - it should be a bharatnatyam stage and not a jhataka matka engilpis song dance routine.
All this is shattered in a second. Every damn person in there is either drunk and/ or is dancing wierdly with some one who is drunk.( if wild gesticulating and trying to unzip his/ her pants to pee while signalling for another drink and trying to hold back the vomit that threatens to rage up the esophagus is dancing).
Now, the girl is direction challenged; add to it a couple of 100 acres of land on which the resort is built. She is faced with two options 1. stand there in a corner - wait for the team to be done and walk back to the exit along with them to where the buses are waiting to whisk us back to civilization 2. try and explore the way back- and maybe - get lost in that corridor that Ive already explained above.
Option 1 ladies and gentlemen seems safer. So there is she is , in a corner - almost on the verge of tears for having broken every rule of her lifetime; waiting for one of these drunk bastards to show up and walk back to the bus.
Meanwhile - a DB ( who joined along with her - and now probably does not know the difference between a moose and a mouse ; a girl and a gate) who wants to have some fun walks up to her.
1.He is drunk.
2.He thinks he is Subhash Ghai
3.He also thinks he is Brad Pitt.
4.He thinks his hand is a camera.
5.He is a bastard.
Sowalks totters up with his hand held as though its a camera - no not like this -
You will need a lesson in this -
Now - try and touch your palm / fingers to your shoulder ( unless you have biceps thrice the size of Hritik Roshan or are as fat as yokozuna - you should be safely be able to do this)
okay once youve done this - make a circle with your thumb and forefinger of the other hand. Like you say " saras che - bahu saras che in gujju ; or say zero in English) Like this -
After that - push your elbow into that hole you have in your other hand.
Yes, there you have your camera now. Its a camera only if you are drunk enough and stupid enough.
This DB thinks, the girl is an odd man out and decides to 'shoot' the girl with this camera of his. Did I mention the girl was already on the verge of tears? ahh ok.
Two huge tears make their way from within the eyes, onto the eyelids..
At first slowly and then fast .. very fast. She runs to the other end of the disc ( which prooves to be extremely difficult - she has to dodge a dozen DBs in her way) ; finally reaches the other end and turns towards the pillar. The DB yet hasnt let go of her. He makes his way through and continues to shoot her - this time - from the head to toe - he is sickengly close and she can feel his breath on her which is laced with so much of beer that she almost pukes.
By now, she is least bothered about who is around - she beings to bawl and HOW. She is now crying openly - head in hands and her kurta soaked in tears. Two angels come to take him away and she is led out of the disc. She asks one of them to lead her to the bus - and spends the next 4 hours in the bus alone hoping the damn bus would just start and take her home - shivering with fright about what happened. ( one of those angels - thankfully is a good friend of hers, and a fellow colleague in her team whom the girl trusts ever so much today)
The rest - goddammit is history. ( dont want to write it here)
So , here is a true story of the Great JustSo when she got a 'culture' shock of her life. Since then, she has forever steered clear of any sort of office party and still gets the shivers when she sees a drunk bastard anywhere. Having gotten adjusted to the fact that not all people who drink are bad - she still cant adjust to the fact that people actually drink. :-(
(* - Aditya Panscholi - what WERE his parents thinking? naming him a 'choli'? and that too - ek nahin - paanch paanch - panch-choli?- kya kar rahe they yaar? I mean itna taank khaank karta tha banda that the girls had to wear panch -choli ki uska naam hi panch-choli pad gaya?)
Warning -
1.A certain degree of Rant mode is On,
2.The post may or may not be hilarious - it certainly is prejudiced
3.People who drink stay away - this prejudice is AGAINST them.
Let it not be said that JustSo did not warn you guys.
A small town girl,
A job in an MNC in a 'near' metro
A 4th of July office outing
A disc and a humongous number of drunk bastards.
What do you think this combination will give you?
If you are a die hard bollywood fan ( esp the bollywood when Mithun, Chunkey Pandey, Aditya Panscholi* and Govinda reigned supreme)and think this will result in the girl running through long deserted dim light corridors while the drunk bastards pursue her and ultimately, the girl slips and falls down, complete with wet-with-sweat-bosom-heaving and waist length hair sticking to her face .. her dupatta torn, having gotten stuck in one of the rose plants kept there, for no other reason but so that the thorns tear her duppatta out ... while the drunk bastards ( DB henceforth - Im too lazy to write the twp whole words) menacingly approach her, abuse her while she shouts out for her brother (or boy friend depending on who Govinda/ Mithun/ Chunkey Pandey et all are to her in the movie) and rape her, and leave her simpering in the dark corner of the corridor, until the brother/ boyfriend/ police find her and she decides to run and jump from the balcony and end her pathetic existence ... ( lalit exlains the concept of rape - complete with pictures here) ...you are so damn wrong dude!!!
Im as untouched as the
Enough Digressing ( yes I know Ive put an asterix mark on Aditya Panscholi - read till the end to know why) I shall come back right to the point - complete with diagrams of the human anatomy. aah, I can see you drooling there - already - you h**** bastard.
okay - So here I am ... joined the company at the sweet age of 19 .. just a few days shy of her 20th birthday ( by the way why do they call it shy of nth birthday? I wasnt shy to be 20, In fact I was looking forward to it .. *sigh* anyways) ... 4th of July looms large - before you know it, its there - a week after her joining date.
The small town girl knew no holidays in her CA institute ( oh, BTW, they just replaced the word slavery with articleship in the websters ... you have to read the fine print to know that) ... 15th of August was called the Independence day. 4th of July was a bit of info that needed to be memorised and nothing more.
So, here she goes, all wide eyed and in awe of this company party with a busload of people she hardly knows. She's asked to enjoy herself - team building and socialising are the words.
She knows practically no one and feels lost and out of place- you have loud english music blaring from every corner of the resort. ( yeah we are taken out to a resort ever year) . Backstreet boys was one thing - all this crazy Engilpis was another.
Men were semi nude, and started jumping into the pool. The women - atleast the ones with bombshell figures started stripping too...
aiiyyyoooooo the smartha kannadiga brahmin that she is, it was all too much to take - men and women - aiyyooo!!!
Suddenly - like magic I say ... everyone dissapears - where to? hmmm this needs to be investigated.
There are thumping sounds coming from that end of the resort - maybe some carpenter is busy at his work ... well, better than looking at a pool that until a few minutes back held semi nude figures eh?
Walk on in the direction of the sound ... ohh! whats this smell? its stinking like a dead rat in a gutter full of shit! what IS this? Oh wait! This is the funny smell that the beer godown had ! The carpenter is drunk! OMG ! no Justso... havent you seen enough movies? stay away. Stay virgin.
What's this the team lead is walking on to this direction? Cling on to his shadow... walk along with him - maybe he knows where to go ( bilaady female - no sense of direction at all you have )
The teamlead is going towards the drunk carpenter - maybe I should warn him ... run JustSo- tell him
Ohh... this aint a carpenter - this is a muzik system .. its blaring out hip hop err... no, its blaring out some mindless Tamil song!
The girl manages to get in, for all her 19 years - she's learnt this - 1. drinking is a sin
2. people who drink are bad - they are the prem chopras and the helens .. you are the mumtaz and the waheeda rehman - you and drink dont go together
3. Disc floors are places where the vamp and the villian dance together or the brat daughter of that rich smuggler and just-returned-from -phoren hero dance : kannda smartha orthodox girls stay away from dance floors - even if they do go near such a floor - it should be a bharatnatyam stage and not a jhataka matka engilpis song dance routine.
All this is shattered in a second. Every damn person in there is either drunk and/ or is dancing wierdly with some one who is drunk.( if wild gesticulating and trying to unzip his/ her pants to pee while signalling for another drink and trying to hold back the vomit that threatens to rage up the esophagus is dancing).
Now, the girl is direction challenged; add to it a couple of 100 acres of land on which the resort is built. She is faced with two options 1. stand there in a corner - wait for the team to be done and walk back to the exit along with them to where the buses are waiting to whisk us back to civilization 2. try and explore the way back- and maybe - get lost in that corridor that Ive already explained above.
Option 1 ladies and gentlemen seems safer. So there is she is , in a corner - almost on the verge of tears for having broken every rule of her lifetime; waiting for one of these drunk bastards to show up and walk back to the bus.
Meanwhile - a DB ( who joined along with her - and now probably does not know the difference between a moose and a mouse ; a girl and a gate) who wants to have some fun walks up to her.
1.He is drunk.
2.He thinks he is Subhash Ghai
3.He also thinks he is Brad Pitt.
4.He thinks his hand is a camera.
5.He is a bastard.
So
You will need a lesson in this -
Now - try and touch your palm / fingers to your shoulder ( unless you have biceps thrice the size of Hritik Roshan or are as fat as yokozuna - you should be safely be able to do this)okay once youve done this - make a circle with your thumb and forefinger of the other hand. Like you say " saras che - bahu saras che in gujju ; or say zero in English) Like this -
After that - push your elbow into that hole you have in your other hand.
Yes, there you have your camera now. Its a camera only if you are drunk enough and stupid enough.
This DB thinks, the girl is an odd man out and decides to 'shoot' the girl with this camera of his. Did I mention the girl was already on the verge of tears? ahh ok.
Two huge tears make their way from within the eyes, onto the eyelids..
At first slowly and then fast .. very fast. She runs to the other end of the disc ( which prooves to be extremely difficult - she has to dodge a dozen DBs in her way) ; finally reaches the other end and turns towards the pillar. The DB yet hasnt let go of her. He makes his way through and continues to shoot her - this time - from the head to toe - he is sickengly close and she can feel his breath on her which is laced with so much of beer that she almost pukes.
By now, she is least bothered about who is around - she beings to bawl and HOW. She is now crying openly - head in hands and her kurta soaked in tears. Two angels come to take him away and she is led out of the disc. She asks one of them to lead her to the bus - and spends the next 4 hours in the bus alone hoping the damn bus would just start and take her home - shivering with fright about what happened. ( one of those angels - thankfully is a good friend of hers, and a fellow colleague in her team whom the girl trusts ever so much today)
The rest - goddammit is history. ( dont want to write it here)
So , here is a true story of the Great JustSo when she got a 'culture' shock of her life. Since then, she has forever steered clear of any sort of office party and still gets the shivers when she sees a drunk bastard anywhere. Having gotten adjusted to the fact that not all people who drink are bad - she still cant adjust to the fact that people actually drink. :-(
(* - Aditya Panscholi - what WERE his parents thinking? naming him a 'choli'? and that too - ek nahin - paanch paanch - panch-choli?- kya kar rahe they yaar? I mean itna taank khaank karta tha banda that the girls had to wear panch -choli ki uska naam hi panch-choli pad gaya?)
Thursday, May 17
Miss You
Its like that lump in your throat you cant gulp down; its like that itch on your back you cant reach; its like that uncomfortable underwear that you cant adjust in a meeting; its like that house fly buzzing around in your ear during a power cut.
It is the feeling that you miss someone.
A someone you can no longer call. A someone who would never have thought twice about abandoning his/her life to attend to that tiny rupture on ur index finger which you inadvertently stapled along with those sheaf of papers you held.
It is a void that you try and fill up with hollow words like " life goes on " and " im strong" and " past is past" and " it doesnt matter".
More the words, bigger the void.
It is a tear drop that blurs your vision but refuses to fall off the eye. It is that irritating pain in the chest that threatens to burn up your rib cage.
It is love and it is longing.
I proclaim so much unashamedly I miss people. I just wish, one of them, atleast one of them was around now.
A friend once advised, dont look back , in the process of missing the past , you are ignoring the present, which someday you will miss, for today will be your past someday.
How true. I try and live in the present, and get a jolt when I find no one who would one day miss me, the way I miss someone.
Okay - I need a tight hug now.
Only handsome males in the age range of 25-35 need apply for this.
No cyber-hugs are entertained a hug spelled out and enclosed within 2 stars doesnt quite give the effect.
Actually, forget it ... I dont need a hug. I just need time with the people I miss; and sometimes, I miss myself the most.
It is the feeling that you miss someone.
A someone you can no longer call. A someone who would never have thought twice about abandoning his/her life to attend to that tiny rupture on ur index finger which you inadvertently stapled along with those sheaf of papers you held.
It is a void that you try and fill up with hollow words like " life goes on " and " im strong" and " past is past" and " it doesnt matter".
More the words, bigger the void.
It is a tear drop that blurs your vision but refuses to fall off the eye. It is that irritating pain in the chest that threatens to burn up your rib cage.
It is love and it is longing.
I proclaim so much unashamedly I miss people. I just wish, one of them, atleast one of them was around now.
A friend once advised, dont look back , in the process of missing the past , you are ignoring the present, which someday you will miss, for today will be your past someday.
How true. I try and live in the present, and get a jolt when I find no one who would one day miss me, the way I miss someone.
Okay - I need a tight hug now.
Only handsome males in the age range of 25-35 need apply for this.
No cyber-hugs are entertained a hug spelled out and enclosed within 2 stars doesnt quite give the effect.
Actually, forget it ... I dont need a hug. I just need time with the people I miss; and sometimes, I miss myself the most.
Tuesday, September 19
Love
I have never been someone who has been vocal in his love and affection , that is , until now , all that changed with her. The minute she entered my life , I was a different man.
The feeling of holding her in my arms was past compare...
It felt like heaven to me to be actually holding her in my arms , she was crying , I tried to soothe her and she rewarded me a tiny smile in between her tears , I bent down to kiss her , my moustache seemed to have tickled her , she held my mush with her hands and tugged at it ... waves of happiness coursed down my spine.
for how long I held her , I know not , she was drowsy already , I held her , coaxing her to sleep on my shoulder , I wanted her to be this close to me every moment of my life , I wondered how I'd spent my life without her for so long , then , I knew , I had dreamt of her all along , and that dream had carried me until this moment.
When her mother came along ,I literally despised the intrusion between us , very reluctantly , I had to hand my little angel over to her mother. My wife saw the expression on my face and smiled knowingly , as I handed my baby over to her , involuntarily the words escaped my lips .. " how long will it be before she calls me father? "
My wife smiled at me ... she could wait , I could not . I bent down to my sleeping daughter , and shared my secret with her , " you mom might have had you for 9 months , Ive had you with me forever , you are my dream , you are me"
its been six months as per the lunar calender that dad's no longer with me , He would always tell me how he loved to watch me sleeping , even when I was 22 , he would yet stand at the bedside and watch me sleep, I was his world , and he mine.
This post is just another unfading memory I have of him telling me , how much he loved me.
The feeling of holding her in my arms was past compare...
It felt like heaven to me to be actually holding her in my arms , she was crying , I tried to soothe her and she rewarded me a tiny smile in between her tears , I bent down to kiss her , my moustache seemed to have tickled her , she held my mush with her hands and tugged at it ... waves of happiness coursed down my spine.
for how long I held her , I know not , she was drowsy already , I held her , coaxing her to sleep on my shoulder , I wanted her to be this close to me every moment of my life , I wondered how I'd spent my life without her for so long , then , I knew , I had dreamt of her all along , and that dream had carried me until this moment.
When her mother came along ,I literally despised the intrusion between us , very reluctantly , I had to hand my little angel over to her mother. My wife saw the expression on my face and smiled knowingly , as I handed my baby over to her , involuntarily the words escaped my lips .. " how long will it be before she calls me father? "
My wife smiled at me ... she could wait , I could not . I bent down to my sleeping daughter , and shared my secret with her , " you mom might have had you for 9 months , Ive had you with me forever , you are my dream , you are me"
its been six months as per the lunar calender that dad's no longer with me , He would always tell me how he loved to watch me sleeping , even when I was 22 , he would yet stand at the bedside and watch me sleep, I was his world , and he mine.
This post is just another unfading memory I have of him telling me , how much he loved me.
Thursday, May 4
Hades - II
As he walked , I saw him with mounting terror in my eyes... How could he be here? If he was walking , then he was alive .. but no living person ever came here in all this time (days, or was it ages since Id been here?), but then I was alive wasnt I ? No I could not be sure of anything now , not even whether i was alive or not .. The only thing that mattered to me was that HE was there and he was walking towards the river as if in a trance , I could not do anything to stop him ... but I had to stop him. I HAD to stop him , if he was lost , I was lost , everything was lost. He was the only person I loved, i needed him , i was me , because of him, and today he was walking towards the river , he was already knee deep in the blood-water , i tried to scream but my gagged mouth produced no sound , i tried to hobble up on my legs , but they had long gone to sleep sitting in the same crampy position, my tied legs and hands refused to listen to me .. it was hopeless, yet , i could not just see him walking and do nothing about it .
Just then, I felt a hand feeling up my back , terrified as I was , could not bring myself to turn and see who it was who was touching me , the grotesque hand probably felt that it was caressing me , but to me it was the touch that defiled my flesh and made it creep and crawl with fear.soon , my hands were untied , thankful though i was , could not turn back and say so to the hand, i did not want to look at an awful disembodied hand ... just then i saw HIM walking , he was chest deep in the blood -river already , i had to stop him , bring him back , it did not matter if I died, i wanted him out of there and I would do anything to get him back from there, i summoned up all my strength and untied my legs and threw the ag out of my mouth , I ran , every second seeming like ages.I could not run straight , i kept stumbling into the mass of human rot everywhere , the current of the water was just too much , but i could not stop, he was already shoulder deep , i cried out to him , for a second i felt that he heard me , he called out for help even "Arpana , take me away , i'll die else" tears blinded me , i ran, this time not bothering about any obstacles in between , scraping my hands and legs against the devilishly long fingernails of the corpses, but i ran as fast as i could ... little did i know that "as fast as i can" would be the slowest by the time i reached him ...
I reached him , he was already drowing in the water , i pulled him out by his air , i breathed the air through my mouth into his mouth , he only emited a trickle of the blood and gore he had swallowed and the mucus in his lungs , i held him , i called out to him , asked him to wake up, open his eyes and see me .... he never heard me , it was as though i wasnt there for him at all ..
he stuck his toungue out , an effort to breathe, and the minute he opened his lips, his soul escaped his body ... i caught the soul, tried to thrust it back through his mouth , where it belonged, i begged the soul to enter the bosy , i held the body in one hand and the soul in the other, there was nothing i could do , it was as though all the corpses and all the rot was chanting his last words to me "Arpana , help me"
"Arpana Help me" "Arpana help me, help me help me help me help me help me " it was like an incantation, for how long it went i know not , for i sat there lifeless, it was all over, he was dead and i was left to live , how could i live without him? what was life without him? i held his body , i wanted atleast his body to be near me , but the body was nothing without the soul , it did not have the twinkle in his eyes, it did not have the smile on its lips, it did not call out to me , it did not feel anything, and it began to disintegrate , it began to rot and look like one of those horrible carcasses i had been livin with for so long here in Hades ... I cried out , but only a muffled cry came out of my mouth , i sat there , tearless, hopeless and lifeless, tears flowed only later , only when the fact that he was dead pierced the numbness that had engulfed my body ... i wanted to cry, but then , i could not , for did I always not seek his shoulder to cry on? he wasnt there , he wasnt there , he is no more , he is brought dead, arpana help me , i love you, my dad , a orpse, arpana help me , he is no more, he wont be there any more .....
My mom woke me up in the morning, asked me to inform the relatives that my father had passed away.
My dad died in my arms in the night, asking me to help him and i could do nothing to save him ... he was dead and i could only stare at his corpse and watch it rot until someone cremated it.
I sleep everyday and will myself to wake up in the past when i was not fatherless, i wake up in the morning and find myself to be the father of my brother and my mother.
Just then, I felt a hand feeling up my back , terrified as I was , could not bring myself to turn and see who it was who was touching me , the grotesque hand probably felt that it was caressing me , but to me it was the touch that defiled my flesh and made it creep and crawl with fear.soon , my hands were untied , thankful though i was , could not turn back and say so to the hand, i did not want to look at an awful disembodied hand ... just then i saw HIM walking , he was chest deep in the blood -river already , i had to stop him , bring him back , it did not matter if I died, i wanted him out of there and I would do anything to get him back from there, i summoned up all my strength and untied my legs and threw the ag out of my mouth , I ran , every second seeming like ages.I could not run straight , i kept stumbling into the mass of human rot everywhere , the current of the water was just too much , but i could not stop, he was already shoulder deep , i cried out to him , for a second i felt that he heard me , he called out for help even "Arpana , take me away , i'll die else" tears blinded me , i ran, this time not bothering about any obstacles in between , scraping my hands and legs against the devilishly long fingernails of the corpses, but i ran as fast as i could ... little did i know that "as fast as i can" would be the slowest by the time i reached him ...
I reached him , he was already drowing in the water , i pulled him out by his air , i breathed the air through my mouth into his mouth , he only emited a trickle of the blood and gore he had swallowed and the mucus in his lungs , i held him , i called out to him , asked him to wake up, open his eyes and see me .... he never heard me , it was as though i wasnt there for him at all ..
he stuck his toungue out , an effort to breathe, and the minute he opened his lips, his soul escaped his body ... i caught the soul, tried to thrust it back through his mouth , where it belonged, i begged the soul to enter the bosy , i held the body in one hand and the soul in the other, there was nothing i could do , it was as though all the corpses and all the rot was chanting his last words to me "Arpana , help me"
"Arpana Help me" "Arpana help me, help me help me help me help me help me " it was like an incantation, for how long it went i know not , for i sat there lifeless, it was all over, he was dead and i was left to live , how could i live without him? what was life without him? i held his body , i wanted atleast his body to be near me , but the body was nothing without the soul , it did not have the twinkle in his eyes, it did not have the smile on its lips, it did not call out to me , it did not feel anything, and it began to disintegrate , it began to rot and look like one of those horrible carcasses i had been livin with for so long here in Hades ... I cried out , but only a muffled cry came out of my mouth , i sat there , tearless, hopeless and lifeless, tears flowed only later , only when the fact that he was dead pierced the numbness that had engulfed my body ... i wanted to cry, but then , i could not , for did I always not seek his shoulder to cry on? he wasnt there , he wasnt there , he is no more , he is brought dead, arpana help me , i love you, my dad , a orpse, arpana help me , he is no more, he wont be there any more .....
My mom woke me up in the morning, asked me to inform the relatives that my father had passed away.
My dad died in my arms in the night, asking me to help him and i could do nothing to save him ... he was dead and i could only stare at his corpse and watch it rot until someone cremated it.
I sleep everyday and will myself to wake up in the past when i was not fatherless, i wake up in the morning and find myself to be the father of my brother and my mother.
Tuesday, May 2
Hades
Bound and Gagged , i found myself lying in a stinking filthy place filled with human remains, i look around , i find nothing much rotting limbs, oozing putrid remains , my cheek is on the floor, i stir myself to a sitting position and find that i was lying in a pool of blood and water , Im not hurt, it must be the blood of these bodies around me ... it stinks and i dont want to breathe in the stale air, try and hold my breath, but its of no use , i have to inhale this rotten fumes, that block my lungs, i choke , cough but its of no use , i just end up inhaling and swallowing more of this putrid air and the waste floating around me in the blood-water river around me.
I think , no i cant , i pull myself up , i try to think , i strain my eyes , and as far as i can see, its just the dead, the putrid dead, the waste and the rotting remains, I realised with a start that I was the only living being in this whole land of the dead , and I wondered why.. for how long i sat there , i know not, how i survived the ordeal of all the horrors of that dead waste land i know not , to see a hand floating next to you , with 2 fingers missing and one half gone , to see it detached from its body ... to see the powerful current of the blood-water river rip apart an already ravaged body revealing its rotting innards to me made me vomit my intestines out. i survive all these , not knowing what the future has in store for me.
One day , i know , Oh i know the horrible truth of it all , i know the end of my life, i see my end as clearly as i wld see someone else's end, for that end isnt mine really, but then the very truth spells out the fact that its my end as well... im dead , though not dead entirely, i could as well die rather than see myself dying, but the evil goddess Fate has written that I the poor bystander , must witness death, my death with my very eyes.
I see him , he is niether gagged nor blindfolded, his hands havent been tied up and he walks freely , but then he is bound by a force of which i know not ..
I think , no i cant , i pull myself up , i try to think , i strain my eyes , and as far as i can see, its just the dead, the putrid dead, the waste and the rotting remains, I realised with a start that I was the only living being in this whole land of the dead , and I wondered why.. for how long i sat there , i know not, how i survived the ordeal of all the horrors of that dead waste land i know not , to see a hand floating next to you , with 2 fingers missing and one half gone , to see it detached from its body ... to see the powerful current of the blood-water river rip apart an already ravaged body revealing its rotting innards to me made me vomit my intestines out. i survive all these , not knowing what the future has in store for me.
One day , i know , Oh i know the horrible truth of it all , i know the end of my life, i see my end as clearly as i wld see someone else's end, for that end isnt mine really, but then the very truth spells out the fact that its my end as well... im dead , though not dead entirely, i could as well die rather than see myself dying, but the evil goddess Fate has written that I the poor bystander , must witness death, my death with my very eyes.
I see him , he is niether gagged nor blindfolded, his hands havent been tied up and he walks freely , but then he is bound by a force of which i know not ..
Monday, April 17
When someone ceases to exist
Guys,
Will be orkutting less regularly, but then, will be available on Gmail and YM, par kabhi agar main online hoon aur aapke ping ko reply nahin kiya to bura mat man na , it wld be just that ki main shaayad sirf dad se baat karne ke mood main hoon tabhi. Ditto for mails, aap sab ke support ko main "thanks" kah ke insult nahin karna chahti, so if u send me a mail and i dont know what to say or write, chances are i'll reply saying the same ki i dont know what to reply, par agar kabhi reply nahin kiya to pls bura mat man na , i know ki its these emotionally charged times when relations are the most strained, but main tum logon se kisiko bhi khona nahin chahti.bas i need some time, be with me , bear with me until then, its like Ive changed a lot in these few days and Im somehow repelled by the "old me "that is reflected in Orkut/Blog. Somehow I cannot think of writing back a PJ or laugh at a silly oneliner anymore, everything seems so meaningless now, coupled with the fact that I cannot be myself even now, for now i have to don the role of a mother, father and husband of MY family; the other two are emotionally, financially and physically incapable of anything. Im in between bouts of depression, frustration, anger, self pity, regret and responsibility , and hence if Ive hurt anyone in the past 15 days, or if in future hurt anyone of u , it is unknowingly, I do not mean to hurt you guys, u guys are really very very important to me. Im not deleting my orkut account or unjoining the comm, or deleting this blog or other such thing, for though a huge pessimist i might be, i wish to be the way I was once, someday. But until that someday, just let me be.
Will be orkutting less regularly, but then, will be available on Gmail and YM, par kabhi agar main online hoon aur aapke ping ko reply nahin kiya to bura mat man na , it wld be just that ki main shaayad sirf dad se baat karne ke mood main hoon tabhi. Ditto for mails, aap sab ke support ko main "thanks" kah ke insult nahin karna chahti, so if u send me a mail and i dont know what to say or write, chances are i'll reply saying the same ki i dont know what to reply, par agar kabhi reply nahin kiya to pls bura mat man na , i know ki its these emotionally charged times when relations are the most strained, but main tum logon se kisiko bhi khona nahin chahti.bas i need some time, be with me , bear with me until then, its like Ive changed a lot in these few days and Im somehow repelled by the "old me "that is reflected in Orkut/Blog. Somehow I cannot think of writing back a PJ or laugh at a silly oneliner anymore, everything seems so meaningless now, coupled with the fact that I cannot be myself even now, for now i have to don the role of a mother, father and husband of MY family; the other two are emotionally, financially and physically incapable of anything. Im in between bouts of depression, frustration, anger, self pity, regret and responsibility , and hence if Ive hurt anyone in the past 15 days, or if in future hurt anyone of u , it is unknowingly, I do not mean to hurt you guys, u guys are really very very important to me. Im not deleting my orkut account or unjoining the comm, or deleting this blog or other such thing, for though a huge pessimist i might be, i wish to be the way I was once, someday. But until that someday, just let me be.
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