i realise i havent written in a really long time. And surprisingly, some of my few but loyal readers want me to restart (over random conversations of course). Thank you. your kind words inspire me to re-begin the mocktales with newer mixes!
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I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
Nothing stinks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
There is great need for a sarcasm font.
How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
Was learning cursive really necessary?
I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
Bad decisions make good stories.
You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this -- ever.
I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? ), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
I think the freezer deserves a light as well..
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People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Maya Angelou
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The other day while driving to work, I passed two accidents. There were cops and the involved people crowded around talking, gesturing, pointing and huffing away.
That I can deal with. What I couldn’t understand was why other people, especially bikers, slow down, or worse stall, right in the middle of the road. Eagerly craning their neck for goodness only knows what and no amount of revving or for that matter honking moves them!
* Sigh *
Both times I had to roll down my window and yell.
I ask, what’s the deal? Cops are present, no one is visibly injured, authorities seem to have everything under control. why does one need to slow down to look out for any tragedy that they might have missed at first glance, do nothing about it even if they did spot anything and then ride/drive on.
The satisfaction that someone’s day is going worse than theirs?
The movie Notting Hill, shown on one of the movie channels last week, prompted me to write the chick-flick post and also this one.
Before I start, for the benefit of soups and others who believe that the chick flicks are my ‘fav’ movies, they are not. They are movies that (1) have a ‘story’ behind them (2) I haven’t seen (3) have already seen but want to see again for chick-flick nite sake (4) make me go ‘awww’ (not necessarily my fav ‘awww’s) (5) are my all-time favs (6) purely for soppiness (7) reinforces some bonds (in my head mostly!).
How one thing can spark off thoughts about something very random.
Notting Hill reminds me of Dr. A. one of the closest to the ‘most likely one’. We had something special. Went on for a brief time and then we parted ways. Only to reconnect at a different level (again briefly) years later. And it was a mature reconnection that I enjoyed. No, he’s not someone I’ll call on when I’m at my lowest or when I need a friend. The memories are still good to ride on and I prefer to leave it at that. At that time we even had made a pact that the 3 of us (+1 being the reason we met) will meet in 10 years, at coffee day on brigade road.
He, or my relationship with him, is not the subject of my post however.
This one deals with what I did for the ones (notice plural) I am/was fond of. Mainly the men in my life. Some of the absurd things I have done and continue to do (sometimes), for the ones who meant and still mean the most to me (at the time of course):
1. Traveled 40 hours (to & fro) in an unreserved ladies compartment to spend 12 hours with him.
2. Listened to the sound track (play, stop, rewind, play, pause, play and loop) and wrote lyrics in handmade paper in my best handwriting (wasted many sheets)
3. Read 2 books on Dennis Rodman because Rodman was a fav with him. Thought it would help me relate to him better and understand him better.
4. Traveled to Bombay and spent time with him
5. Traveled to Madras to know him better
6. 9-month cold war with my parents for him
7. Distanced, and ended up isolating, myself from priorities, deadlines, holidays, family time, work, entertainment, friends - for him
8. Gave up pork and alcohol for him
9. Changed my lifestyle for any 5 minutes I can get with him
10. Put my life on hold for him
11. Always paid for him (including dates)
12. Always made excuses for him
I haven’t written about anything I do or have done for the women in my life, primarily because they don’t make me do absurd things :-). And more over, I don’t consider them absurd even if I did/do end up doing something!
News. I still do absurdities. Good news. I am slowly learning to choose my absurdities. Coz hey, what’s the fun of being in love if you don’t go out on a limb from time to time. That’s what makes it so special – then b’coz you are so madly in love, now b’coz you know you loved deeply and passionately and ‘lived’ the relationship. Makes for great memories doesn’t it!
Yesterday R & I bumped into each other virtually.
R was surprised that I was actually blogging. And then amazed that I actually wrote sense (?).
Flashback.
“Radhika. That’s her name,” says Divya.
Cut to SIMC first day, first show.
I go to class and keep my ears open for a ‘Radhika’, hoping that I lay eyes on the ‘Radhika’ and not just some radhika.
And this amazing looking chica in a white top and denims makes her way to me and we could instantly recognize each other as THE roommate. After confirming each other’s identities, we get all excited about….
Cut to THE ‘FC road’ house – a 2bhk (first time I heard of the BHK deal) shared by 6 girlies.
…and the excitement continues. Radhika and I completely clicked. Once we were over the initial introductions and briefs, it was as if we knew each other from so long and catching up after a break. Over time, we exchanged stories, sagas, love notes, concept notes, ideal men, ideal women, class histrionics, teacher gossip, classmate updates, recipes, wishlists, secrets, aspirations, and so on well into the early mornings. It was normal for us to fall asleep after 2am. We had the same ideologies, same love for dancing, same appreciation for arts and crafts, the same approach to money management and the same opinions about the other roommates in the house :-)…all this of course made way for many adventures and mis-adventures including the IFB cooking!.
Cut to the present.
Radhika and I have walked almost similar paths in parallel. That’s uncanny. The cycle hits us, not always at the same time, but we each go thru it. And that’s the best part. Because of the similarities and sometimes dissimilarities and how we deal with the entire situation, we always understand each other and extend support no matter what.
I’m really proud of R. The past year has been really difficult for her but she’s come out of that rough patch flying high. She moved out of her comfort zone, physically and emotionally, accepted and dealt with change, and looked at challenges square in the eye. That’s strength.
It’s always been her dream to start something on her own. And Dec 2008 saw that dream come true. The Floral Deli. (the end of this post has the FaceBook group info!!!). that’s commitment.
So anyway, ravishing R is still gorgeous as ever, now totally into flower power. I’m lucky enough to be a recipient of her service – for sure one boutique beautiful bouquet served right up every birthday.
I’m even luckier to have her in my life. R, we’ve gone through many ups and downs together and, of late, on our own. Over the years, through jobs, cellphones, boyfriends (official and unofficial), even with the least amount of contact sometimes, we’ve somehow always been there for each other and know that we’re just a thought away. And I don’t see that changing.
Cheers to you woman. You rock.
The Floral Deli was conceptualized over a dinner table while re-constructing the many benefits of flowers and plants. It's the fervor for flowers that led the founders Sanaya Karkaria and Radhika Sankhe to branch off with the vision of creating a company where consumers could be presented with never seen before stylized products that would emerge from their passion for flowers and ingenuity of mind. The Floral Deli is a premium floral boutique specializing in exotic floral bouquets and arrangements. At The Floral Deli, we love flowers and are totally committed to offering the freshest premium flowers. We know that a truly exceptional gift of flowers relies on expertise and attention to detail. That's why every gift from The Floral Deli is personally designed by an expert and arrives artistically arranged.
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Labels: The Floral Deli
The other day I thought to myself that over the last few years, I seem to tag-team with a ‘certain’ friend to do ‘something’ ‘some time’ all the time! Not that it gets done. But the hope is there that some day we will do it and in a strange way it makes sure that the connection is never severed.
This is one such tag-team account.
There is a certain allure in a sleepover, with chick talk, chick flick and chick-comfort-food in absolute relaxed guards-down ambience….(assuming that it’s a gang of girls. Throw in some boys and it’s a different ball game :-))
Madhuri and I have been planning to have one of those sleepovers for a long time. Every time we see or read something chick (and chic) we text or mail each other so that its added to our ever growing list of things to do during the sleepover.
I was always told that one makes the strongest of bonds during the ‘education’ days – skool and college. The first few places where I worked I realized that that held some truth. I could never find anyone I could remotely connect with or carry on a relationship outside of an office or professional setting. Until Aditi.
M is one such ex-A and is now away in the US of A pursuing her masters in biz admin and enjoying being pursued. Somehow when we least expected it we clicked. That info should suffice for now. Back to the message of this post.
For our M & Yum sleepover, I thought I should list our chick flicks so that once we settle on the choices and the availability at the DVD store, we are all chick-ed up and aww-ing and sighing away the nite.
1. Notting Hill
2. A Walk in the Clouds
3. When Harry met Sally
4. Gone with the Wind
5. Fried Green Tomatoes
6. PS I love You
7. Beaches
8. Steel Magnolias
9. Pretty Woman
10. Sweet Home Alabama
11. The Holiday
12. 27 Dresses
13. Terms of Endearment
14. Mermaids
15. The Joy Luck Club
16. Before Sunrise
17. Waiting to Exhale
18. Up Close and Personal
19. City of Angels
20. Horse Whisperer
21. Erin Brockovich
22. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
23. Love Actually
24. 50 First Dates
25. The Notebook
26. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants
And this list includes flicks we want to repeat watch, get all soppy and re-believe in xxx (you fill in the blanks. Yep – that’s exactly what I think too)
Watch out for the couch version of chicks on flicks.
& M, methinks that we have a long nite ahead of us! So we better stack up on the wine and popcorn.
Was this one too many chicks?
You can thank seashell for that!
I have a big block.. A writers block to be precise. Perpetual. I don’t even know where it came from. But lo and behold, there it is. Hard to miss, heavy to carry and thoroughly opaque. With this writers block I keep bumping into things and because of its heaviness (not to mention the subsequent falls I have) I always leave the ‘heaving of the block’ to the bottom of my priority list – no matter the consequence.
That’s changed of late.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that the block is malleable. It’s like Play-Doh. The more you bend and twist and squish and squash and flatten and roll, the better shape it takes until finally it resembles something that exists!
That’s why I post regularly. I’ve come to realize that penning down some random, some times inconsequential, thoughts and at other times defined opinions and reminiscences, kickstart my vocabulary and train of thoughts. Ultimately, I draw stimulation from memory flashes that are subconsciously stored in deep crevices, motivation from personal jottings and soon, the private writing gets me into the mood to launch into business writing.
That’s why I post regularly. Seashell requires me to write. A lot. And apparently I write well…hahahahaha…*wiping tears away from all the hard laughing* …I can write…I write emotional, sentimental, adjective, verb-y and descriptive stuff very well. But business writing? Am hardly setting the trail blazing there. Though I am getting better at it. Crisp, to-the-point sans the bells and whistles, high-level business lingo takes me time and sometimes inspiration and more importantly the mood.
That’s why I post regularly. It gets me into the mood. I am in the business zone. It’s like clearing the clutter in my crowded headquarters in the penthouse (read: mind) and getting ready to cut to the chase. I usually write in a conversational style – I write as if I am talking – good for chatty mails and letters. But to the CEO? Wrong approach!
And that’s why I post regularly.
Like I said, Play-Doh. The more I play around, the better I get. That’s true not only with my writing skills! :)
This time it was a slow and smooth ending to a year of many ups and downs. I managed to finish the year off with an up and down in the same day J. Talent I say!
Most of you who know me know of my roller coaster rides, and I thank you for being there for me.
For the first time in all these years I actually fell asleep before my b-day. So much so that when my folks called they were more than surprised that I was snoozing! My dad asked where’s the party happening and I replied in someone else’s house. The darling had actually called me at 10.30 and asked me what my plans are for bringing in the day. Of course I had no plans.
But I enjoyed the day. No rushing about, no tiredness, a lot of me-time (like I didn’t have enough of that already but this was a totally different and pleasant me-time altogether), and at the end of the day I realized that I spent most of the day answering calls and responding to texts.
And I mean almost the entire day. Spoke at length with those who called, many of who I connected with after a really long time. So it felt good to re-establish contacts. And it felt really really good to respond to texts in a systematic and unrushed manner, without much delay J. Considering that I’m way too lazy for my own good, I mark that as an achievement!
The power of the internet and social networking reminders unleashed a bunch of posts, scraps, messages and some mails. What would we do without that!
All in all, I loved the easy lazy Sunday – filled with voices, words, thoughts, action, punctuated with litres of self-wine, some yummilicous ‘chocolate celebrations’ cake and lotsa lotsa love that I felt throughout the day from all corners.
I am now 30 years and 367 days old.
God bless!
Got this fwd from a dear friend of mine - Joyce. even though i am not THAT old and grey hair just beginning to show, i still love the essence of this message. And what timing. This one is for those who just blew out another candle on their cake - Madhuri, Fats, Mili, Gana.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself.
I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly curio I didn't need, but looks so avante garde.
I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many people leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 90s & Y2Ks, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning grey, to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face, to love with passion, to learn from my experiences. At least getting there. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).
“…it meant so much to me. It was like seeing you my b’day was complete…”
Small contribution, big significance – for me and Mili.
Ever since the new job, I’ve been extremely busy that I’ve only received complaints from all and sundry – even my folks. Of course, everyone who knows is happy that I’m where I am and this is my break, but seems like that’s the only place I am at all the time.
That or my couch.
Mili and I used to talk everyday when she was in blr and almost every other day when she moved to Chennai. Those were the days. Now I find that some times I don’t text back or return calls for days together. It’s not something I am proud of, but that’s whats happening now. And I wish I could time manage myself better.
Again, those who know me, know that vista of me too!
Anyway, for a long time I didn’t see any communiqué from M, and I knew she was mighty upset and titting for tat. So I decided that since her b’day fell on a Sunday I’d surprise her with a visit. Executed the plan with help from a colleague and P. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The look on her face was worth it.
I was in Chennai for 24 hours and the whole family (P, M & J) spent almost all the precious time with moi. I only slept for 4-5 hours. The bonding happened with M & J. J remembered some of the nasty tricks I had taught him the last time I spent time with him (back in april), and I warmed up. BTW, M says the minute he reaches the age of ‘reckoning’, she’s keeping J far far far away from me J, lest V-aundy introduces him to the birds and bees before he ‘needs’ to know.
I left Chennai with a happy heart, refreshed with my change of scene and activities, renewed relationships and knowing that I made a difference to one of my best friend’s is-special day. And I felt good. Yep.
What a differenence. A mere thought, action or word can do.
To all my friends. Our time will come, and when it does I hope I’ll be able to make that difference.
Love is blind. It truly is. I’ve been down that road over and over and over. Before you think about my headcount, you’d better stop and start feet count.
Let’s not run around and wear the feet or soles or souls out. I’m talking about shoes here. I love shoes. I have too many of them. It is a violent love affair.
When I slip on a pair of shoes and strut around in the showroom and realize that my feet look good in them, I immediately fall in love with them. And therefore immediately get blinded by the love…and then the big day comes when I proclaim to the whole world that I’m in love. In the beginning it seems fine, then as the hours go by – bam – it hits me…what a big mistake. And it pinches and hurts in all the wrong places! And messes up the entire day.
So I bought these pair of black pointed heeled pumps. They looked good as is and on my feet, even better. I think I was just so kicked with the fact that I found a really nice looking pair of shoes that actually fit me well and goes with all my clothes that I didn’t look beyond…(don’t we all do that sometimes..and not just when it comes to shoes :D)…I have very small feet. There’s a joke that goes around among a few of my friends… “how do your feet balance your body” (go figure J)…back to my love affair.
And it was priced so right that I swept it up without second thoughts…when I walked around the shoestore, I felt like I commanded the entire world and everyone was looking upto me. Power. And sexiness. The things I can do with that point. Yep, that’s what I felt.
And then, warped-ol-me decided to bring them out on a very big day at work. When I needed to be walking around and be on my feet from 8am right till 11pm. Our CFO was visiting and I was coordinating a whole lot of programmes and the running the evening show for the who’s who…with sore feet.
I mean it started off very well…I drove to work and when I stepped out of the car – glitch #1: it started slipping off…suddenly it seemed as if the shoes were a wee-bit big for me…then after sometime, glitch #2: I realized pains that I haven’t felt before…stuffed some tissue into the shoe so that they don’t slip off (imagine falling face first in front of someone important)…managed to get through the day. glitch #3: and the amount of clicking and clacking it made on the uncarpeted floors…jeez..made me want to disappear…as you can expect I decided to choose when to walk and where to walk to…needless to say by the end of the day, the minute the bigger of the who’s who walked out of the evening programme, out came the shoes and I was free!
My poor feet felt alive and blessed to be out of the torture. I walked around the leela barefeet, drove barefeet, soaked my barefeet in a tub of hot water, creamed and caressed them, and went to bed feeling happy that at the end of the day they were pampered enough that they don’t turn on me. Though I did yearn for a foot massage ;)
Learning #1: really, pay attention to the comfort of the shoe. Screw the heel and the feeling of power/sexiness that comes with it. Choose wisely, buy carefully.
Learning #2: really, don’t wear new shoes on a really important day. Run them in first!!!
Learning #3: really, if you have to wear new shoes on a big day, plaster your weak spots to protect against shoebites
Learning #4: really, your day can be so messed up physically and mentally, if you are not wearing comfortable footwear…you don’t feel good enough to do anything! And everything goes for a toss, especially the missed opportunities
Learning #5: really, there is nothing like the comfort of old shoes, old wine and old friends.
Must listen to New-Shoes crooner Palo Nutini more carefully now…try and figure out what he really means… :D
It’s been some time since I wrote.
Do I need to rephrase that to something more emphatic?
Lots of things happened over the last few months. By the way, my last post was in January and it’s now July. Jeez times flies and how!
Was walking a very unfamiliar path back then. And after some deliberation thought I might as well embrace the adventures of the unknown path and make the best of it – experience the unknown, the whims and fancies of an unscheduled unplanned journey, when out of the blue came something irresistible. Those of you who know me know what I am talking about.
So I got promptly sucked back into corporate life. Of course, I didn’t even think twice because the company was just too hard to resist. I thoroughly enjoyed my interview experience. Absolutely think high of my bosses (honestly – some of you know why I esp. focus on this). A global brand, fantastic people culture, the largest in revenue across companies (international), diverse and inclusive, open and transparent work style, consensus oriented, NOT IT-related (thank goodness for that!), value intelligence (really!), and the list goes on! Anyhoo, I’m in a really happy place now work-wise and the feeling is refreshing. I contribute more efficiently, feel part of the bigger picture, am motivated and I enjoy what I do. What a change from the turmoil and the oh-no-I-have-to-go-to-office feelings that preceded seashell. Happy happy joy joy!:D
So new company, new profile, new colleagues, new work timings, new car, new outlook. Wait don’t I need something old, something borrowed and something blue?
My first post for 2009.
Almost 2 weeks late, but hey - better late than never, aint it!
i've been a wee bit busy travelling, bonding with folks, and fighting some demons on the way. Emotionally tired after it all, but charged to move ahead...so it was a welcome change to be at home this last weekend, and to do....absolutely nothing.
did read the papers page to page. :) And it is with an interesting article, from the opinion section of TOI, that i have decided to start off posting in 2009.
Mr. Jug'gler with the JUGULAR VEIN, you help me laugh away my Saturday hangovers...
Calendar daze
Jug Suraiya
A fringe benefit of the economic downturn is that people have stopped sending out calendars and diaries. Remember how it used to be? Come the start of the year and you’d get a bunch of calendars, with a couple of diaries thrown in for good measure. The calendars were from big business houses, hotel chains, your local halwai, and they all had pictures: of major construction projects, of exotic holiday resorts where beautiful young things reclined in hammocks sipping complicated-looking drinks through straws, of well-fleshed gods and goddesses who were a divine testimonial to the virtues of asli ghee. I found the calendars useful, for covering the patch on the wall where a bit of the plaster had come off, or where a swatted mosquito had left a splatty brownish-red stain. The diaries didn’t have pictures. But they had their uses too. I used them to jot down random telephone numbers (random because i never remembered to put a name with the number, with the result that we had a collection of numbers that would have done a phone directory proud except we hadn’t a clue as to whom any of those numbers belonged), make grocery lists, and do the weekly sabzi hisaab.
I found plenty of uses for all those calendars and diaries and was grateful to the kind souls who’d been considerate enough to send them to me. The problem was that they gave me a guilt trip. The calendars and diaries, that is, not the people who sent them. And the reason for this was that a question kept nagging me: that while those calendars and diaries were undoubtedly being put to use, were they being put to the use they were meant for? And the answer, i had to admit, was ‘No’.
Calendars, and, even more so perhaps, diaries, are markers, or milestones, if you like, which chart the course of that invisible, intangible and relentless stream called time, which bears us along, often without our realising it, from moment to moment, day to day, year to year, birth to the other thing. Calendars, and diaries, are reminders, wake-up calls, which make us ask ourselves: are we making the most of the gift of time, can we “fill the unforgiving minute/With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run?” And in my case, the answer was a resounding ‘Nope’.
For instance, did Jan 1 on my calendar feature the reminder ‘Power breakfast with PM and PC’? Did my diary contain the Jan 1 entry ‘Teleconference with Bill G and W Buffett. Gave Warren some market tips and brought Bill up to speed on 3G convergence’? Uh, uh. Jan 1 on my calendar would likely be marked ‘Don’t forget the Saridon for hangover’. And the diary would probably say ‘1 kg Surfmatic, Amul cheese slices for Brindle, 2 toilet rolls, and WHERE’S THE GODDAM SARIDON??’ Not Samuel Pepys. Or Anne Frank.
So, not getting any calendars or diaries this year lets me off the hook in that i won’t feel obliged to do anything noteworthy or memorable, or indeed anything at all, in 2009. Which, so far as i’m concerned, is just fine. But is it also fine for all of us collectively, for what we call Civilisation As We’ve Got Accustomed To?
If on Jan 1, 30,000 BC, some unknown bright spark hadn’t inked onto his calendar ‘Must discover fire’ and in his diary for the same date ‘Invented wheel — now waiting for someone to invent General Motors. Boy, what a killing i’ll make’, would humankind have progressed so as to face the greatest global economic crisis ever? No way. And how are we going to get out of this crisis unless people like the PM, and PC, and Bill, and Warren, and you, buzz around like performance-enhanced bees and get things done? But how are you going to get anything done unless you have a calendar and a diary to motivate you to do it? Tell you what. Since no one else is sending them around, i’ll send everyone calendars and diaries. I’ll mark that on my calendar to remind myself to do so. Heck. Don’t have one, do i?
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