Hiccup New Year... Oops!

I'm sitting here extremely high on pizza. (hiccup!) Man, i thought my appetite was gone and i just hogged as though there is no tomorrow today. And here i am (hiccup!) sitting in front of the computer (hiccup!) thinking what the hell i am (hiccup!) doing here. I should probably be snuggled under (hiccup!) the covers since my eyes (hiccup!) are drooping but i can't leave without writing a post (hiccup!) for HNY... yeah.. i don't know why everyone's got a short form for New Year!

I was chatting online with my cousin today and suddenly he asks me "What plans for NYE?". My first reaction: Which football tournament is that? (hiccup!) no no.. it must be tennnis... or cricket? (hiccup!) I decided to safely reply "None. Your plans?". He says "At my friends place". I blink again. NYE at friends place? So, it's happening in Australia (he lives there btw) and he's gonna watch it. (hiccup!) I ask him "No party plans for new year?". "I was talking about the party at my friend's place", he replied (hiccup!). What? (hiccup!) Football tournament in his friend's place (hiccup!) and he's having a party? (hiccup!) And then it HITS ME (hiccup!) REAL HARD. NYE - New Year's Eve. (hiccup!) (hiccup!) (hiccup!) (hiccup!) (hiccup!)

*Drinks water*

So that's what NYE means. There was a point when i even thought it had something to do (hiccup!) with New York *giggle* (hiccup!) See what i mean? Yeah u see the number of hiccups (hiccup!) that have come up during the post. I know its impossible to get high on pizza (hiccup!) but i've managed to make it possible (hiccup!) I'm not kidding. I just put my headphones (hiccup!) on my head and told my poor friend who was sitting next to me "oh so that's why they're called headphones". (hiccup!) She almost called 911 (read, my dad) but i managed to stop her (hiccup!) before the line got through (LOOK! I MADE A JOKE!) (hiccup!) Ook, before someone else calls my dad, i shalt wish you all a VERY VERY VERY

Thanks for reading my blog. This thanks does not authorize you to stop reading. Continue reading it right through next year too, until i thank u again :P (i made another joke! i can do this shit too)


This is a poem i wrote about myself in my first year of college for some project. They wanted us to do a self portrait of a different kind. For all of you who've wondered why the hell i associate myself with wolves, here's your answer :P (Yes yes, i'm coming out in the open about it)

A pale reflection looks back at me,

From the crystal clear water at my feet.

The story unfolds at this very place,

I suddenly move back, my legs in retreat.

I turn away and look around,

My home, the jungle, in all its glory.

I strain to hear, but there is now no sound,

So I shall pause and tell you my story.

Not long ago, a cub was born,

So sleek in frame, Mystique was her name.

The one who gave birth did not live very long,

Leaving her alone in a world so untamed.

She grew up a fighter, she won so many,

Yet inside she missed what mattered most.

She watched many packs and fished out many schools,

But she didn’t feel alive, she felt like a ghost.

Her feelings, she learned in the hard way,

Would not help her live in her home today.

So she put them away, and moved on;

Her whole life was ahead, to herself she would say.

Years later she looked into the pond,

Her eyes had a glow she had never seen before.

She looked at the moon and sang her song,

She had grown into a legend, of many a folklore.

Her eyes could see where no one can.

Her nose could trace out the slightest smell.

Her ears could hear from far, a land.

And her legs could run afar so well.

Her mind works fast, she must survive,

Her heart in unison, she will live.

Her eyes shone courage and a commitment to try,

And her heart so strong, to none she will give.

This is my life, and now you know,

And I shall go on, and my story shall grow.

I am a warrior, I must win each fight,

I am the wolf that howls every full moon night.

The Illusion

I finally managed to clean my room yesterday. It took me two whole hours to set things straight in this messy little place and i found papers and papers of my really old poems. There were ones i wrote in school.

Back then i was called 'The Poet' :P because we had an exercise in class where one person had to come read their favorite poem everyday. And being the 'outstanding' students that we are, almost everyday people would forget to bring their poems and queue up in front of me. And during break i'd sit and write them one which they would read in class. The teacher would be bewildered and ask them who the poet was. And they would point at me. Ahhh.. what fun :P

This is a love poem i wrote in my 10th i think. It's bad and please spare that 10th kid who thought she could write :P . Ok shy is coming. But i'm brave enuf to publish this on my blog :P

I've got some 2 or three. I'll release them one by one. Here's this one.

My love, he stood right in front of me,
Those eyes that captured every-
moment, i wished that i could see,
But i couldn't; the irony.

For the last time i looked at him,
I reached out and touched his face.
An ocean of questions i had to swim,
To not cry and win this race.

But as he started to turn away,
My fear, my agony, they began to play.
Why i felt torn, i couldn't say,
And it pained me he had to go away.

He came close and lifted my face,
His eyes so soft, a sad smile.
My hand into this, then laced,
I wished, this moment, forever i could trace.

I stayed in his arms afraid to let go,
I did not want him to go away.
My pain, he too felt, i knew,
And peacefully there, for moments, i lay.

He smiled at me, one last time,
I stood there as he went away.
My life, my smiles, with him sublimed,
With no strength left, my knees buckled and gave way.

My eyes were closed and i could see,
Glimpses of a future, i had so carefully planned.
Those beautiful eyes never leaving me,
Everything was going, what i thought i had in hand.

It's not far but until the day i can see him again,
Blind to the world, shall stay my vision.
Living my life in a world with no pain,
Until he comes... my life.. an Illusion.

Then and now....



My 'original' school gang met up for dinner today. The group that i've been friends with since my 9th standard. There are 6 of us. We decided to make it a Christmas dinner and since a couple of them hadn't given us their birthday treat we clubbed it all together into a scrumptious dinner at Mmmafia.

All six of us met at a friends place to discover she wasn't home. H and time aren't the best friends and she's been late for every single meeting/movie/school/college since we knew her. And as usual i landed up at her place first to find her mom tellin me she's not home... i waited and i waited till A, K, R and V showed up some half hour later claiming there was too much traffic (H's house is 5 minutes away from theirs!) After we all settled down and almost got pissed, H showed up saying she had work at a particular club she was a member of and we set off on our dinner journey.

The last time the entire gang met was during H's birthday treat and after that we've never had the chance to go out together. Today was special. We were in the car singing loudly to some arbitrary tune that was playing and i suddenly turned nostalgic. When we were in our tenth.. we had a zillion exams before our boards and after every exam H used to drop all of us home since we all stayed in the same area (still do).. and we used to fight to play a song and sing it at the top of our voices. And we had a pattern of getting dropped... K first.. then A then V and then me.. it used to the best 15 minutes of our day.

Anyway we reached the restaurant and got our tables... we have this understanding. we never order for one single person. We always order as a group and share. We ordered couple of starters, couple of main courses and just started talking. K was desperate to drink and would not go past the page on the menu that had 'whisky' written in it. She was looking longingly at it and later realised it was not a drink but a dessert. She resolved to try it at the end of her meal.

We were generally chatting and teasing each other about times in school. It was a long time and we were having a lot of fun getting to knw what everyone was upto. Two of them are engineering students. 2 in B com in my college but we rarely get to meet. And one is studying medicine.

We've been to numerous eat outs and stuff along the years but we were all been kids then and fought over each other not having money, one taking the larger share of the food, someone not paying enough, someone arguing over some silly issue. We've always had issues crop up between us. Believe me i've been the pacifier in so many cases i've got the household name of 'counsellor'.

But this time it was so different. We shared without fighting and ate our fill and didn't mind whatever the other person did. We've grown. Though the 3 who were supposed to pay the bill fought over it, this time they fought to pay the entire amount themselves. Reminded me of that master card advertisement where friends meet up after years and remember old days..

Sigh... If only i could go back five years and live those days again...

Iyshu's tag

Thoorika... ur tag is next.. i'm too lazy to write urs :P .. shall do so next.. no tension maaaa

1. What is your occupation? I occupy my chair, my sofa... so much that my dad thinks i'm gonna leave marks on them!

2. What color are your socks right now? ummm... i can't say really.. i've been wearing the same pair for years.. they used to be white.. now they're green and... uhh.. i don't know what the other colour is...

3. What are you listening to right now ? You and me by lighthouse

4. What was the last thing that you ate ? Buttermilk (sigh..)

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Yup :)

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Amritha.. (sigh again!)

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? No i don't like her at all... i hate her so much i took up this tag to tell her that (iysh please know that i'm kidding and trying to be sarcastic here)

8. How old are you today? 19 years and 5 months

9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? Man vs. Wild ( :P)

10. What are your favorite drinks? Pepsi, coke, vodka rum.. oh man i'm such a bum! (i rhymed!)

11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Nahhh... i haven't sprouted any grays.... yet

12. Favorite food? Pasta, nachos, nan and paneer butter masala... last but not least thayir sadam :)

13. What is the last movie you watched? Vaaranam Aayiram… :(

14. Favorite day of the year? Jan 31 :)

15. How do you vent anger? Write it down somewhere.... or just sit with my head in my hands

16. What was your favorite toy as a child? Video game console :)

17. What is your favorite season? Winter... if u can call it that in chennai.. love snuggling under a blanket at night...

18. Do you want your friends to e-mail you ? YES!

19. When was the last time you cried? I don’t cry... shhh! :)

20. What is on the floor of your closet? I don't have a closet

21. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? I'm tagging Bajju... but i have no hopes of him taking this tag :P if he does then he's my oldest friend.. going back all my 20 yrs.. otherwise its Thoorika and Iyshu.. frnd for 3 yrs :)

22. What did you do last night? Uhh... i'd rather not tell this in public :P

23. What are you most afraid of? Water

24. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburger? Spicy... not for the next two days tho.. medically unfit u see :P

25. Favorite dog breed? Golden Retrievers... oh man i so badly want one :( (Bajju remember our call to blue cross to 'inspect' rates? :P )

26. Favorite day of the week? Sunday ( no coll)

27. How many states have you lived in? The one and only Tamil Nadu!

28. Diamonds or pearls? None.. i hate jewels

29. What is your wish for this new year? I want to do all the things i'm planning to do :D

30. New year resolution?Get serious about my future... on alot of aspects

I'm tagging Thoorika, Bajju, Mayank, Abhishek and Chriz

When you aren't serious about a competitive exam....

1. You enter the exam hall armed with a ball point pen only and find people around you bringing customized stationary kits with pencils and pens of different sizes and colours, spending over ten minutes choosing the perfect instrument for the job.

2. You wear an oversized t shirt and jeans and find people in formals complete with vermillion on their forehead.

3. You relax in your chair and suddenly get goosebumps at the sight of a girl immersed in books even at the last minute. She seems to be possessed by the book. You clear your throat and try not to look at her.

4. You do not rush to open the seal of the question paper when the bell rings and use different methods to open it neatly and find the boy next to you shaking in fear at the precious 5 seconds lost in the process of opening his.

5. You use the only known method to answer unknown questions (which are most of the lot) 'inky pinky ponky...'. And alot of heads turn to face you, horror-struck. Oops...!

6. You while away time by shaking the desk which is already shaky and creating a tune out of it in the process.

7. You randomly circle answers and then realise you have negative marking for every wrong answer (shit!)

8. While you work out sums mentally (inky pinky style) you find your neighbours using their hands, legs, shoulders and everything else that is available to count and solve problems.

9. You finish the paper an hour in advance and yawn loudly only to find hostile stares and irritable clucks of tongues.

10. You know the right answer for the question but mark the wrong option because you are too busy trying to circle the option perfectly, tongue out, in extreme concentration and precision, that you fail to see which option you actually circled. (b...b...b...b.... shit i just circled d!)

11. You are totally against marking the same option more than twice. (a... this one's also a.... 3rd also a? no, i'll mark b. There hasn't been a 'b' in a long time)

12. At the end of the test you admire the answer pattern that you have come up with on the answer sheet, not worrying if the answers are right or wrong.

13. You take a 15 minute nap and wake up to find the bell ringing and think "At last!"

14. You fight to give your paper first while a girl in front of you fights to retain it and holds it close to her heart because she has '2 more questions to complete'

15. Finally, you look at the feedback column in the answer sheet and cannot gauge if the paper was 'tough' or 'easy' and decide to circle 'very easy' hoping the examiners will find the irony of the entire thing.

P.S: I did all this when i wrote my SNAP yesterday.


We had two exams today and for the first time in my three years of college, i would tell you, i had no clue what i wrote in both my papers. Well, yesterday i spent most of my time online doing mundane things and not really bothering to open my book. Why? Cause my book was blank. I had no notes and had a couple of xerox that i just read thru cause i was falling asleep in the process.

This morning, it actually hit me that i'm about to attempt two tests that i'm totally not prepared for. The exam was at 8 30 and i woke up home at 8. I ran helter skelter and somehow managed to reach college by 8 25. I sat down and wondered what the hell i was going to write. Of course, i knew things here and there but i didn't know anything properly.

So, the first paper was placed in front of me. I saw the subject line 'Corporate Communication'. "I've heard this name somewhere", my brain told me and i churned it only to realise i spent an hour at around 3 in the morning ruffling through pages in my notebook, half asleep, totally disinterested. My eyes scanned the questions. Out of the 15 that was there, i knew 3... totally stretching it that is. The rest, i consented to bullshit.

When you are doing a course a course in journalism it is mandatory that you need to have a special talent of bull shitting or you won't survive. Every single answer in every single paper will have facts and fiction of very extreme sorts. There have been times i've repeated one line around 20 times in the same answer. Anyway, i sharpened my sleep affected brain to face this new obstacle; completing the paper and trying not to fail.

As i put my pen to paper and wrote 'Section A', my bench started shaking violently. I had sudden mental images of an earthquake that reduced the college to rubble and i don't have to continue with the test. But to my utter annoyance and disappointment i found out that the girl next to me was causing all the vibration. I honestly didn't know if she was etching her answers on her paper or writing them. She was literally putting enough pressure on the pen to snap it into two. I waited for her to settle down and after 15 minutes of waiting i came to the conclusion that that's just how she writes. I settled to write my answers amidst shaky grounds.

I started off with whatever i knew and as i wrote i found out that i actually didn't know what i knew. So i bull shitted there too. I wrote in big bold letters and wrote the same things over and over again for every answer. After 5 answers, my brain wanted to rest and hence switched off. Of course, with my brain fast asleep there's not much i can do. So, i resorted to looking at people's faces.

I looked around the class, observing people with their eyes scrunched in concentration, trying to get their answer right. One of my classmates was dancing in her seat, her arms flailing this way and that i found it very funny and stifled a laugh when the invigilator passed by me. Another one was busy applying moisturizer to her leg in the middle of the exam! I mean, what the hell!

My mind then wandered to a romantic song i was listening to last night and it immediately built a love story with an unnamed un faced man. Sigh.. my brain will work for all this only. And i thought it was asleep. Maybe my brain was dreaming.

After wasting another fifteen minutes i somehow managed to persuade my brain to wake up again and remind it that i need atleast 20 marks to pass. So it relented and started coughing back to work.

I wrote another 10 sides and i got tired of it. Totally i had attempted 7 questions. I needed to attempt 3 more. I didn't know any of them. Ok, i thought. 'Tools of Corporate Communication'. I guessed they were stuff like pamplets, newsletters. I vaguely remembered reading those words in a xerox and attempted the answer with great fervor. Halfway through i got confused between a brochure and a pamphlet and switched them. Then i realised what i had done and spent more time correcting that and totally forgot about circulars. Therefore, my answer was kinda complete but half baked.

I had ten more minutes and 2 more answers and i somehow managed to convincingly bull shit that too. I heaved a huge sigh of relief as i quickly exited the hall. I think i'll pass.

My 2nd exam was an hour later. I spent that hour in between with all the notes in my hand, my mind completely elsewhere. I was laughing at one of my classmates who was very seriously trying to mug stuff in the last minute. I spoke to another one, who, like me, was trying to sleep than study. At the end of the hour, i came to a conclusion that today i've gone back to being the old 'me' about studies again.

It was 11 and papers were distributed. The beauty about this exam was that i never knew what subject i was actually writing. I mean, i had the stuff and i knew this was the exam but i didn't know the name. My eyes first went to the name and i memorized it in case someone asked me what exam i wrote.

Then i went about inspecting the paper to realize that I'm actually a little smart (not very, don't worry). I was an economics student in school. And i've done a HR paper in college. Both mixed together and you get media management. I knew a little here and there. And i had enough knowledge of both to crap all i want. I was surprised to find that out of 15 i knew 10 questions. I would pass, i sufficed.

The earthquake writer continued her practice of trying to etch her answers not only on the paper but also on the desk. As i started writing, suddenly my bench shook so violently that all my stuff fell off the table. I turned to find my partner very laboriously rubbing at something that refused to erase. I glared at her and settled down to write again.

Few answers down the line, i was staring at the paper, whilst my mind was contorting monopoly and oligopoly into something extremely weird when i suddenly heard a voice "Where's the paper?". My head snapped up. Paper? Huh? What paper? I wasn't even copying, in my defence. I looked up and saw the invigilator smiling at me. Actually, the lecturer who taught the subject was invigilating and i was wondering if she lost her mind. "What ma'am?", i asked. "HOW's the paper?", she said slowly. "Very easy ma'am.", i replied. "Really? Then all of you will get above 90?". I sealed my lips shut and nodded, smiling in between. She walked away, satisfied.

Well, i don't know about 90 but i guessed everyone in the class would pass since the paper was easy enough. I finished the paper in 45 minutes flat. I looked around and saw everyone else writing.

I didn't know what to write. I check and double checked and triple checked and counted out the number of answers loudly, awakening my partner from her concentrated writing. Then i got fed up of not knowing what to do and decided to give up my paper. I was just tying my paper when i heard a loud "AAAAAAAAAAAchoooooooooooo" and my paper went flying from my hands to the ground.

Sigh... a perfect soggy ending to an amazing story.

Today's lesson: My partner is a walking natural disaster. Not only cam she produce earthquakes, she could whip up a tornado also.

Pinjula palutha palam....

For the sake of my non-tamil audience i shalt translate my title into english.. it means 'maturing early'... in a more sarcastic note.. yes yes.. one that you would associate with me..

Today i was trying to clean up my messy room. If you haven't seen my room yet, please ask those unfortunate souls who have. I'm sure they will tell you horror tales about it. My dad keeps tellin me that my asthma was because of my dusty, messy room with random things thrown about and he is soon predicting that i will get some other disease also due to over exposure to this room. But you know what? I love the place. It's small, cozy and has room only for me. Keeps the parents out! That's what i really need :P

Getting back to the topic, i was rummaging through some really old diaries that i had. They were these notebook calenders that i used to take for my math tuition in my 6th and 7th. I opened up a couple to see each page torn in half with a blade. Ahh.. fond memories. How i used to come back from tuition, take a blade and tear every damn page into half. I wish i could do that to my 5 sub note now. Sigh...

Anyway... as i was scanning the pages of one such diary... i came upon my scrawled, incredibly ugly 6 std handwriting on the last page. And this is what it read:


I'm Anusha studying my 6th standard in NPS. I am in 6 A. I hope someday that when i am in college one nice boy will be my friend. I will help him with his homework and everything else. He will be my best friend. And i will take good care of him.

Thank you for reading this.

My first reaction at this bold piece of writing : ROTFL .... i mean, i was in 6 std and i was already dreaming about knights in shining armour. And for the next ten minutes i was giggling continuously. I couldn't help it. How clever was i. Maybe i was setting and reminder for myself, knowing few years later i'd pick it up and read it. Either ways, it was hilarious.

At the end of it, i remembered how when i was young my dream man had blonde hair and blue eyes. He was actually Nick Carter of Backstreet Boys. I was so crazy about him that i and a friend of mine set up a club called NCBSG - Nick Carter's Backstreet Girls. We had a separate notebook for this and we developed a secret code through which we would communicate. People from my class were extremely curious about it and tried cracking the code. But none of them knew what anything meant. We had a code for each alphabet and that was in a piece of paper safely hidden at home.

Once, one of my bitchy classmates got tired of our 'club' meetings and complained to the teacher saying that we're saying 'bad' words and doing weird things. Of course everything in our official club notebook was coded and my teacher didn't understand a word when she confiscated the book. So she too came to a conclusion that we were up to no good.

Through the entire problem my friend and i would be in giggles cause we realised how embarrassed they would be when they found out about the silly club. Finally, the matter went upto the vice principal and we were called to her room.

After a one hour interview with us she somehow managed to make us confess what it really was. Now, this lady, the vice principal was a damn strict lady who has a record for breaking a lot of the guys' bones. This was our primary concern. But when she heard out story, for the first time in the school's history, she laughed out loud. She gave us both a toffee and sent us away.

All these memories came reeling back and i was still laughing over the diary when my father came an hour later, concluding that his daughter had finally gone mad.

Dreams ... bah!

No, this one is not a sad post. It is not a post on careers gone waste and dreams not achieved. In fact, it has nothing to do with the word 'seriousness'. I'm tired of writing sad posts and i'm not a person who can stay sad for long. Atleast i don't want to be one :) . Well, last night as i tucked myself into bed i was fantasizing a love story between... ahem! i shalt not mention names here... anyway.... i was the female lead in the love story... i'll leave the male lead to your imagination. Anyway... i have this habit to telling stories to myself before i sleep. I play a story in my mind and usually just as it reaches a super climax i doze off... sigh...

They say if you think too hard about something before you sleep you dream about it. I think this is bull shit. I always think hard (sometimes i think so hard that i end up in the loo) about me swimming in a tub of chocolates, or in some mansion with my LOWE, moonlit walks, candle light dinners, puppies and writing something path breaking but you know what kinda dreams i get? I get dreams of failing a test, or my HOD giving me a lecture or a dog CHASING ME or a tsunami (i don't know why i'm traumatized by something i didn't even experience first hand). But this time, my dream was little different.

Anyway, i was playing this story in my mind about me and.... ahem! looking at the beach. Full moon, its rays casting beautiful colours on the sea. We had just had a candle lit dinner and we were walking hand in hand to the beach. Slowly as we approached the shore, the view was breath taking. As i sucked in the fresh air, i turned to see ... ahem!... on one knee and he was smiling up at me... He took my hand and kissed it. He then opened his mouth and said......

I don't know what he said. I slept. Damn it. Someday i'm going to have to push the fast forward button on my stories so that i get to the good parts soon...

Anyway... in my dream the situation continued. I was surprised.. i mean in my dream i was surprised that my man was still in front of my on one knee. Weird? I thought so too. He was again repeating taking my hand (this part sounds like a mega serial continuing from the last five minutes again the next day) and as he placed it to his mouth he turned into a cobra!!!!

I'm not particularly scared of snakes, maybe because i've never been infront of one but i get constant dreams of snakes and dogs chasing me. Maybe that's to give me exercise in my dreams since i don't really exercise in reality.. hmmm... anyway.. he changed into a cobra that was MULTICOLOURED! Being kissed by a cobra is bad enough but a VIBGYOR one? please... my dreams never cease to surprise me...

Either ways, when i saw the cobra i started running and the cobra was chasing me. Somehow as i try to outrun the cobra on the romantic beach, a giant wave starts forming and i stand and stare at it and the cobra disappears into thin air.

In my dream i suddenly remember how a lady and her dad hug before a wave hits them in 'Deep Impact' and i search for someone to hug but i'm alone. I run again and there is a house. It's my house. I get into it and lock the door. I think the giant killer wave took the role of 'big bad wolf' in 'three little pigs' coz how much ever it 'huffed and puffed' on my door, it couldn't get in and it went around my house! lol... i had to laugh here.. sorry.. :P let us continue

I turn and find that my house is this museum turned home ( i genuinely don't know where that came from). There were old paintings (including the Mona Lisa and last supper.. probably Da Vinci Code influence) and dinosaur exhibits. But the whole place was furnished amazingly with vintage furniture and decorations, just the way i've always imagined.

Suddenly some random fellow comes out of nowhere and asks me to cook him dinner. I stare at him. Subconsciously in the dream i know he is my HUSBAND! I'm flabbergasted. But i'm confused. I know i'm not married. I wonder if my dad secretly got me married when i was sleeping. Then i remember that i'm actually in a dream and this guy was just a figment of my imagination.

I shook my self awake and spent a good 5 minutes laughing over it. Then i lay back down and slept.

This time i found an old man in a 'Transformers' style robot body with his head alone human like. He looked vaguely like Geoffrey Boycott. I don't know why he came in my dream with his slurred english but he was talking to me about alien invasion and he suddenly morphed into a super cool ferrari and i felt like Samuel Witwicky (i hope that spellin is right. for those of you who didn't see transformers he's the male lead).... and the car was operatin by itself and it took me to this forest where i found.... ahem! being abducted by aliens. Someone fights, someone rescues ahem! and he wants to thank me for saving his life ( i don't know what i was doing during the fight).

He bends on one knee, takes my hand, kisses it and says........... "Thanks buddy!". And i hear a distinct voice shouting "WAKE UP ITS 10 o CLOCK!".

Sigh... Dreams are just BAH!

My husband, the alchoholic

Inspired by a true incident

I'm waiting up. I don't know how long i need to. I don't know if he'll even come home. But, out of sheer hope in the lord i sit up, meddling with the numerous holes that have sprung up from nowhere in my saree. I have only 4 of them. All 4 which my mom and dad gave as dowry when i married him. That was ten years ago. Now these sarees are crushed, faded, smelly and torn.

I hear the sound of scuffling feet. I look up expectantly but i'm disappointed. It was only a dog. I go back to examining my now gray,but once cream coloured saree. I'm upset. It's almost 2 in the morning. I know, by now, what state he will come back home in. Sigh! I want to run away. It's a torture waiting up everyday wondering if he'll come back home a husband or a killer.

I've grown used to it. Ten years of beatings, thrashings, swearing have made me immune to it. Right now, all i do is bear it and let it go. What else can i do? I'm uneducated, my parents have passed on, i have two kids who i want to bring up in life and i have no job of my own. I want to work but he won't let me. If i run away how would i bring up my kids? How would i make them study? I want my kids to earn alot more than i ever will in my lifetime.

My ears perk up. I hear his voice. Oh no, not again. He's been drinking. There, i see him; shirt unbuttoned, sticking out of his khaki auto-driver uniform pant. His hair askew, hands flapping around, one around a bottle that was almost empty. I knew for sure that this must've been this fourth or fifth bottle. Sigh... i'm in for a reckless night.

"You wretched woman.. where are you?", he said coming inside the hut we call home. I got up and went to him, pulling his free hand over my shoulder, guiding him inside. "Let go of me.. you think i can't walk? Let go", he said swaying violently as i let go of him for a few seconds. He slumped to the ground and demanded his dinner.

I placed the food before him and he looked at it suspiciously for a long time. "Are you sure you didn't poison it you wretched thing? I know you want to kill me. The rice looks oddly discoloured. You eat it first and show me that its safe". I obliged. I ate a couple of hand fulls before he pushed my hand away and started gobbling it down.

As he was eating, he spotted a stray hair in his food. That was the beginning of the most horrible night of my life. "You BITCH!", he screamed, running at me, throwing the plate at my face. It struck me on my forehead and i started to bleed. Before i could gain balance, he slapped me right across my face. Finger marks etched themselves onto my skin. The stinging pain brought tears to my eyes. I don't cry. I don't like to cry. But i couldn't help it.

Another blow followed, this time on my stomach, sending me reeling backwards. The pain was just starting to set in. Blow after blow followed. At the end of it, i was on my back, pinned to the ground with a black eye, a torn lip and a cut across my forehead. The numbing pain in my stomach and back was driving me insane.

Why am i subject to such torture? What did i ever do wrong? I've been thrashed, kicked, spat on, trodden upon, dragged, pulled, pushed, slapped and belted. What more do i need? I have to do something. I'm sick and tired of being an object of ridicule when i tolerate his sick behavior, his drinking, his abuse. I won't take it anymore. I just can't put up with this again.

I look up at him, a new fire alight in my eyes. I've never felt so vengeful before. I want him to feel my pain. I want him to know how it is to be abused physically and mentally every single day of your life. I want him to suffer, every single minute. There is a change within me. I am more stronger than i can be. It has to be tonight or it will never be. I understand that now...

He is coming at me again, his slippers in his hand. I grope around me and find something. I don't know what it is. He lunges at me and with every inch of strength that i can muster, i strike with my weapon.


Sound of body meeting the ground. There is a pool of blood. My internal fire is quenched. Panting, i look at his lifeless body. I had pierced his heart with a knife. For a moment, my feelings are down. I look around, depressed. After a few moments, i stepped out into the night.

I looked up and i laughed

IDE > Incomprehensible Decision Evaders

Ok you might have not understood my title and i'll explain what IDE is. In my college.. we get to choose an Inter-Disciplinary Elective every 2 semesters since the 2nd year. This sem, we had the same and i had already made up my mind to choose 'event management' which was offered by the business admin department. And me being mathematically challenged (i'm the kinda person who thinks 1+2 = 12), i'd have been the last person on this planet to choose maths as an elective.

As the campus tv announcement started about the different electives, i was half sleeping and half listening. I didn't listen to them mention that 'Game theory and decision making', which, according to me, have nothing to do with maths, was infact offered by that same dept. But i didn't hear them mention that cause i was too engrossed in eating chapathi and channa from a friend's tiffen box.

Finally, we had to jot down 4 options, according to our preference and they would give us what they think would do us good. As they listed the courses for the last time, i was suddenly struck by 'Game theory (i'm a game addict, u see) and decision making (i'm yet to make a decision on my future, so you know!)'. I thought it was offered by the comp sci dept and was all geared up to learn something about 'Age of Empires' and 'Warcraft' (my eternal love) and all. I let go of my event management dream and signed up for 'Game theory' along with one other friend, who was also under the same impression.

The next day, i come to know that i have voluntarily chosen to commit suicide by signing up for MATHS! Well, it's not like i'm really bad at maths. Just that MATHS DOES NOT SEEM TO LIKE ME. IT EVADES ME AT THE MOST IMPORTANT TIMES AND I BLINK AND STARE AS THOUGH I HAVE NEVER SEEN NUMBERS IN MY LIFE.

I left maths 4 years back after i chose to take commerce with english in school. My love-hate relationship came to a thankful end, except for the basic addition and subtraction in accounts, which i was thankfully good at. Well, if u count out the addition mistake in my board exam that cost me a 200/200 :P where i added that 4000 + 4000 = 10, 000. I dunno how i came up with that.

Anyway, i hoped against hope that they would see that i had given event management as second option and realise i'm not too good a mathematician and put me in the other. But, as luck would have it, i got MATHS.... My decision making skills need alot of tweaking!

I entered the class, wondering how on earth i was gonna cope and a very nice looking lady walked in. I hoped she would teach well. But as soon as she opened her mouth, i opened mine too. I mean, my jaw dropped. I heard a squeak instead of a voice! If that wasn't so bad, her speed... my god! she could beat a concorde!

My already sluggish brain, which usually switches off anywhere near numbers, snored very loudly as Ms. Minnie mouse (my new name for her) squeaked on and on about 'operational research' and about 'probability' and what not. Here's an excert from her speech:

Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, am i right ma? Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak am i right ma? Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, am i right ma? Squeak, Squeak, Squeak.

The following are the words i deciphered through constant training of being under another friend who had a very similar problem:

"1 rupee coin." "Certainity." "Heads or tails." "Only that." "Nothing else."

Because boredom reached new heights, i started randomly writing names of people i know, ticking off people i'm not in touch with when my ma'am approached me. "Did you understand ma?", she asked in a span of half a second. It took me 1 minute to understand. "Yes ma'am", i replied, taking 2 complete seconds to say them. "What are you doing ma?", she asked.

I looked down at my notebook. "Probability", i chanced, remembering a word she used in between her squeaking. "What sum? I haven't even given any exercise?", she asked. "I'm writing my own example ma'am. In a condition of certainity, i'm ticking off all those people ill probably be in touch with through out my life and those who probably will be chucked out. There are only two status of nature's here. Be in touch, not in touch. Alternatives are the names of my friends. I'm tabulating the result ma'am", i surprised myself, wondering how i had understood her squeaking and my ability to deliver coherent answers concerning maths.

She looked puzzled and then asked, "Really ma?". I nodded "Yes ma'am". She seemed to consider it for a minute. She looked at my faithful companion who was at my side. "Yes ma'am, i was just helping her multiply", she replied, making me believe a sigh of relief. "Show me once you finish the sum ma. Am i right?", she squeaked again. "Done ma'am", i smiled.

The class went on and when the clock struck 1, i sneaked out of the class so that she doesn't see me. Now, i am stuck with 'Homework'. I have to probablise ( is that a word?) my friendship and convert it into a mathematical problem.

Like Minnie Mouse told us in our very first minute of class "Any problem can be converted into a mathematical problem maaaa".

Dad can drive.... sigh!

From the above title it is easy to come to the obvious conclusion that my dad can drive. Of course, he's been cruising behind a steering wheel for more than 3 decades. What more do u expect? The problem and the reason behind this post is the fact that because he knows how to drive... HE WONT LET ME!

This doesn't mean that he never lets me anywhere near the car. I do drive him around once in a while. Infact, i drive ONLY under his vigil. Because, the last time and the only time he let me out alone, i came back home with the rear part of the car smashed in. Err.... Nothing happened to me, don't worry. It was just the rear guard that got hit. Following that, my father has laid down strict rules that i shalt not use the car unless he is sitting right next to me.

That might not be so bad if HE LET ME DRIVE. Yesterday, I had to go somewhere for a 5 minute work and i asked dad if i could borrow the car. As you would have guessed, he decided to accompany me, since i'm still 12 years old and i cannot drive (that was sarcasm btw :P ). Anyhow... here's a conversation between my father in my subconscious mind:

Act 1 Scene 1

The parking lot at our apartment is narrow and it takes a little time to maneuver the car out of it. My dad, who had driven the car the previous night, had not put the gear back in neutral. I did not notice this. This is wat happened:

I turn key

Car lurches

My mind (MM): Dad must've left the gear on. Will change it to neutral and start again.

1 second later

I've left the gear on, don't you see? Where are your eyes? Don't look at that boy standing there. Look at the gear. Change it to neutral

Act 1 Scene 2:

As we wait to turn into the main road

MM: Here's a gap. I'll just put the indicator and turn.

.5 second later

Dad: There's a gap. Turn here. What are you doing? Put indicator. Do i have to tell you all this? And you want me to let you drive alone.

MM: Sigh...

Act 2 Scene 1

Driving down a considerably empty road.

MM: Let me shift to third gear.

1 second later

Dad: Shift to third gear now. Don't you know you have to shift gears? You are wasting my petrol! I am paying for it not you.

Act 2 Scene 2:
Nearing a red signal

MM: I'll just gradually push in the brakes from now on, so that it stops completely behind that innova.

1 second later

Dad: Put on the brake. Why are you driving at top speed when you know that the signal is red. You wil only hit that innova if you do. Step on the break gradually and halt there.

Act 3 Scene 1:

Nearing a one-way

MM: I think i should just take a U Turn here


Dad: Take a u turn. It's a one way. Can't you see? Blind girl. You are giving me tension every minute. Why can't you think all this for yourself? Why are you waiting for me to tell you?

MM: @#%@$@$@^@

Sweeping someone off their feet.

Now, i'm not really into research and analysis et all but today as i was watching a 'Varanam Aayiram' song video, i hear Suriya mutter this punch dialogue to his lady love "I'll come for you and i'll sweet you off your feet". Now this expression 'sweeping someone off their feet' sent my abnormal brain into deep thought and this brain quickly brought up a theisis on the expression itself!

'Sweeping' someone off their feet can mean two things:

1. Sweeping with a broom 'off' their feet, meaning, somewhere around, inbetween or in the vicinity of their feet.

2. Sweeping them off their feet >> using a broom to trip them so that they are totally 'off' their feet or hitting them with a broom until they are down on their knees. Now they're on their knees, not feet, right?

Do you get it?

Now why would someone want to do that to someone they love? It is beyond me. Let us consider both situations alright? And consider yourself in the middle of each and trying to propose to someone you love.

Situation 1:

"I will come for you and i will sweep you off your feet"

Action: The person standing in front of you and you take up a broom and start sweeping around them. Actually, if you are a guy, this might sound grim! But looking on the brighter side, the girl might actually accept you for one of the following reasons :

  • She thinks you'll make a good house husband
  • She thinks your broom is a good one
  • She thinks your a part of the witches committe
  • She thinks you are dumb, which is an added advantage
  • She's a dominatrix whose sole aim in life is to make men sweep floors.

If you're a girl, well, consider yourself married by next monday!

Situation 2:

"I will come for you and i will sweep you off your feet"

Action: The person is standing in front of you. You take a broom and start beating them up or tripping them, both of which ain't a very bright aspect. But..... but... they may accept you still because:

  • They will be tripping and hitting other parts (oww!) of you very soon
  • They think you will stop beating them if they accept
  • You them a good back/foot massage that cured an annoying crick in their back/foot that has been there for years.
  • They think you are trying to drive a deadly spirit out of them
  • You are putting them to the test with a very weirdly done obstacle course

So there's my analysis of this very peculiar situation. It might not be a thorough analysis but it is one still. And it will make you think the next time you use that word to propose your love to someone... hahaha.. i've expertly ruined one of the most romantic english idioms ever :P And i'm proud of it.

The Encounter Specialist

V - Encounter Specialist in the FLASH

At the wake of terror in Mumbai, two important people of the country were in deep discussion on how the situation could have been handled and how easily it would've been to rescue the hostages then.

My friend V and I were discussing possibilities of her becoming an encounter specialist and saving those hostages. Here is the conversation:

V: My blood boils everytime i see terror attacks on my country. I was telling my mother that i want to join the RAF.

Me: What was her reaction?

V: What do you think? She laughed on my face.

Me: I would have too, had i been her. Why don't you think of something more feasible for you? Like sucking on your lolly pop?

V: Shut up. Am almost a year older than you.

Me: But you look like a 12 yr old.

V: That is an advantage. I have a plan all sketched out in my mind. A plan, had i been in RAF now, that would have worked against the situation.

Me: What plan?

V: I will dress up as a cabaret dancer and entertain the terrorists so that they're distracted then i'll shoot them all. *Makes gun noises*

Me: Child, if you look like a 12 yr old, they're gonna be disgusted. They may even say 'awwwwwww' instead of 'aaaaahhh'. They're not pedophiles you know.

V: Excuse me. Now i'm 20 and i look like 12. When i am 26 i'll look 18 right? I will look like a woman then

Me: You are right. So, if u are a cabaret dancer it means u'll have to dress scantily. You don't think they'll spot the gun?

V: Good point. I didn't think of that.

Me: Do one thing. Do cabaret dance and invite them one by one to your room. When they come, shoot.

V: Super plan! Cha i wish i could become a commando. I'll be the bravest. And when i'm killed in an encounter with a terrorist you'll see vidoes of my marching straight, looking all brave, in every news channel.

Me: Haha... Yeah. They will say "V took a bullet for the country".

V: Yeah. *dreams*

Me: By the way, why didn't you come to office today?

V: My mom told me she'll kill me if i step out of the house today.

Me: ROTFL! Hostage situation, indeed.....


This thing's giving me the goosebumps.... superb trailer!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Just off the head.....

Today... i was trying to write a lead paragraph for ma story on Ranga Rao (refer to previous post). I think i've seriously got into another one's of my writer's blocks. Coz i wrote and i wrote and i wrote... and at the end of a strenuous 2.5 hrs, i had mastered the art of writing two full sentences, which i later erased because i thot it wasn't good enough! Leaping lizards! And i thought i could write.......

Anyway, my comp at home is infected by sum 'entranneous illegal activity' (thanks to a very tech savvy dad who doesn't know anything about viruses and is extremely fascinated by pop up windows) and i sat down in my office to write the article. I was bent on finishing it today. Well, my luck was otherwise...

I began..

"A seventy something bespectacled man opened the door...."


"A man, sporting a striped orange kurta and white pyjaamas with sandles"

I'm not writing for Vogue

"Down a narrow wooded lane off haddows road..."

Uh... this ain't a horror novel...

"What do you do when you are passionate about art, music, dance and writing? You start a collection of gramaphones"


"What do you do when you are a music and dance scholar?"

Make sure you never give an interview to this shitty journalist.... DELETE!

"Ranga Rao, a seventy something man has the country's largest collection of gramaphone records, numbering to a massive 42,000"

Stamp, trample, kill..... yourself


That's the best i've written all day

And so i've been going on...... and i'm yet to arrive at the perfect sentence... Sigh!

False Impressions

Till this very day, i thought i wasn't a judgmental person. I thought i was a person who could determine people's characters well since i observe alot, by default. But i proved myself terribly wrong and bow my head in apology to a man i learnt to admire today.

V.A.K Ranga Rao. He's in his late 70s' and i decided to interview him for my paper. What is so special abt the man? Well, his impeccable english though he's just done his 12th std is one. Apart from which he owns the largest collection of gramaphone records in the country (42000) to be precise. Whoa!

Anyway, the guy was haughty and threw an attitude on the phone and i braced myself for this meeting, thinking i was about to face a 'cantankerous' old man, as he himself told me later. Well, when i reached his place and called him, he told me to come ten minutes later. Of course he didn't know i was waiting outside his place but it put me off. It worsened the already bad impression i had on him.

But as soon as i went back ten mins later and knocked on the very old house he lives in, i knew i was wrong. He invited me inside graciously. He sported a smart orange kurta and white pyjamas. He looked scholarly and a little weathered. As soon as i entered the house, i found is ironical to his sophisticated, impeccable behavior. The house was MESSY! it was full of dust with gramaphone records, books, papers, envelopes lying all round the place and a table right in the centre. The house had 2 floors.. .all three levels containing more books and more records. I was mesmerised!

As he started talking about him as a critic.. the amount of mistakes he found in every book, i was hooked since i was a voracious reader myself. I found his knowledge on varied subjects to be absolutely stunning. He's what one would jokingly call 'walking encyclopedia'. And by all means, he justifies the nick name.

After a tour of almost 5-6 rooms in his mansion dedicated to books, books and more books, videos and records, i wondered if they were his only company. He seemed chatty, asking me a few personal questions here and there but not altogether unprofessional. He was blunt, straight forward and did not mince words at all.

I find bluntness in men a very admirable quality. And this old man was right on target. If i spoke softly he would say "i'm sorry, i'm deaf, could you be louder?". If i stood up and continued the interview he would shoo me to a chair "i can't talk to you if you stand. Please sit or i won't be able to hear you". If i asked him a particular question and didn't write it down he would say "i don't tolerate factual errors". it made me scribble steadfastly across my book even though i didn't understand what i wrote.

He said to me "just wait 5 mins. i 'm making tea". When i refused it he said "it's not for you. It's for me. in the process, i'll just give you half a cuppa"... and he made me drink the drink i despise so much i've not even smelt it in years!

Well, by the end of the our interview session, i had become his ardent admirer. The guy is an expert, not because he has to be but because he wants to be one! It was superb and though i didn't have an ounce of the knowledge he had, i felt as though i had achieved a great feat by interviewing this man.

He was not such a cantankerous old man after all, just a guy who can-carry-tank-sized-info and had a computer like amazing memory. Kudos! to this walking encyclopedia.

The Eeenglish patientu

Here i am beings the eeenglisu patientu because-u today i happenings to meetings oone verrry interesting persons-u that wantings to know the ways to one place-u. But she thinkings su that i don't know tamil and talkings to me in the eenglisuuu.. you understandings aah? Anyways, i was the walkings to the buss topu and was standings waitings for the bussu to come when the ladies approachings me and askings very eeeemportant koshtin in the eenglisu...

"Where to go for porur?", she the askings, leavings me the dumbfounded. I not understandings a word she sayings so decently i askings "pardon me". She smilings. I was wonderings why all adventures happenings in connection buss for me. "You not know eeeenglis?", she askings me kindly. That throwings me long long ways. "I the understand", i stammerings.

"Oh oh... You not know proper eenglis? All these girls these days not know proper eenglis even though they studyings in the eeenglis medium school. Grooming is not nice i tell you", she the complaining. I the gaspings. THIS LADY THE TALKINGS ABOUT THE PLIGHT OF THE EENGLIS... i not bearings.. i decidings to show her who the boss is.

"Look", i tellings her. "Eenglis is very the tough language to the understanding. I can see that you have the masterings it but i haven't. Don't keep the complainings. Why not you startings a coaching centres to teach the eeenglis to the poor childrens?". i the retortings. Suddenly for her bulb is oning and bell is ringings.

"Yes yes", she sayings. I am hopings it is not what i am dreadings. "I am going to the start one coaching centre for traning all these childrens in proper eenglis. I am thinkings that i won't even charge the fee. it will be free. you want to the join?", she lookings hopefully at me. Sarcasm is the lost, i'm thinkings.

"Its wokay madam", i consoling her. "I'm very the busy with work now but i am tellings you, your students beings the very lucky. Tell my congratulations." She the satisfied and walkings off, leavings me nostalgic.

I'm thinkings of a particular physics teacher in the school where i was the studyings who gave amazing dialogues about the girls who are the wearings short skirts.

"All these girls want to do is show the boys boys boys their thighs thighs thighs"

Cinderella Story..... II

From then on, life isn't so bad. I spend my days sneaking a few minutes before and after work to talk to Ajay. At last i have a friend. He teaches me many things. About life, about love, about family.

For months, i learn from him. He slips me few bucks here and then and my savings is considerably large now. I'm scared one day my father will find it and take it away. And i'm also scared about another thing.... I'm falling in love with Ajay. His careless smile, his charm, the way he holds my hand when he wants to say something serious, his hugs, the way he taught me to dance the other day, pulling me close et all; they make me feel things i've never felt before. I want to hold him too.

A few days later, at the restaurant, i see a man and woman kiss. It gives me goosebumps. The rest of the evening i sit in a corner, imagining myself kissing Ajay. It's a worthless fairytale dream. I know. But i can't get over it all the same.

I have decided to tell Ajay how i feel. I'm scared. I still wear the same old dirty pant and shirt when i go to work but i change into what he has bought me when we meet in the evenings. I am wearing a black and white t shirt and blue jeans that he'd got me few months earlier. I try to tame my hair but it isn't working out. I look into my small pocket mirror and decide i look decent. Today will be the day i break my own heart. But i can't help it. It's the risk i need to take.

I wait at the usual place and he cruises in on time, in his fancy car. He is wearing an olive green tee and light blue jeans that are hanging on to dear life on his lean hips. He waves. "What's up buddy", he gives me a hi5. "I need to talk to you", i say. "Sure. Shoot". "I.... Umm... I think i'm falling in love with you", i blurt out.

Uneasy silence follows. I want to die right then. He's going to laugh on my face and tell me that i was a slum girl dreaming of unattainable things. I see his face fall and his jaw drop. A tear seeps through my eye lids. I've never cried before. It's a strange feeling. Half relief and half pain. What a mixture. I see him shake his head and walk away from me. I knew then he'd never return.

5 years have gone by. I still think of him and tears come freely. My parents are still at it. They have now started kicking each other. Improvement, i mutter to myself and walk away everytime it happens. I have changed jobs. I'm now working at a beauty salon and get paid a lot more than i used to. I get around Rs.3000 a month now. My home life is still shitty. My personal life is as lonely as ever.

I walk down the narrow lane to the rented apartment that i now live in. I shifted here since my salary was good enough. It's not much but it gives me a separate room and i stay away from my violent parents. I have realised, as bad mouthed as they are, they need me and i don't complain anymore.

I lose myself in my thoughts and a sudden movement in the sky makes me look up. A shooting star. The pang slices through me like a knife. I walk faster. No more empty wishes. My father was right. Why would god waste his time on a pathetic excuse for a human being like me. As i break into a run, i dash into a passer by. I look up to excuse myself. "Sorr..." The words stop.

The man who made me run is now in front of me. He has grown taller, more muscular. His shirt fits his broad shoulders like it is custom made for him and his trousers stand perfect at his waist. There is no more the air of a laid back teenager. The lines around his eyes have hardened and he is now a man. "Hi", he says and i go back five years. The table. My dirty dress. His 'hi'.

I nod. I don't know if i should say anything. "Remember me?", he asks. I nod again. He seems to gain more confidence and moves closer. "Your looking beautiful tonight". My head snaps up and meets his eyes. I've heard these words a million times in these five years; men trying to court me, trying to get fresh with me, trying to touch me but i've never heard them the way he said it right now.

I find my legs giving way as i try desperately to stay calm and resist the urge of running to him to give him a hug. I stay still. "I'm sorry i went away that evening. I was just 19. I didn't knw what i was doing. All i could think of from that very day was you. I dreamt of the day i'd meet you again. When i finally found the courage to come to you, they said u had moved. I thought you didn't want me in your life and you decided to move on. But i couldn't give up. I searched the entire city and found your place a few months back. I've been watching you. Today, i decided it's time for me to make myself clear. I love you. I made a mistake. If you would give me one more chance, i'll spend my entire life making it upto you".

Uneasy silence again. I look up. The shooting star is right above him. I smile. I know right now that God had indeed taken time off to make my wish come true. But i had to know. "Are you sure?", i ask him. Slowly, he smiles too. The same smile that had made me fall for him. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life". He extends his hand to me. The same way he had, five years ago. I take it and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me. And i have my first kiss after 23 years of nothing but disappointments and regrets. The same way i had imagined kissing him 5 years ago. I pull away and point to the sky....

"Look! There's a shooting star. They say if you make a wish on a shooting star it'll come true. Why don't you try. It worked for me "

The cinderella story.....

They say if you make a wish on a shooting star it'll come true... I made one too..

I brush the dust off my already dirty pants and start walking home. One, two, three... I count the steps to pass time and just as i reach home, the remnants of the smile i wore faded away. I see the usual scene... my mother screaming her eyes out and throwing things at my drunken father who tackles them and rushes at her with his meaty fists.

Sigh! If only they would just shut up. If only they knew how angry i was becoming with every fight. If only they knew that their only daughter hated their guts because she was 18 and had to work her ass off while they fought and spent whatever money she made.

I don't have any pretty clothes. I don't have a cell phone. I don't have money. I don't have friends. I work at a local restaurant that pays me Rs. 100 a week, which barely helps meet ends at home. I wear the only pair of faded Grey pants (handed down from my father) and blue t shirt that i own to work everyday. They laugh at me. They howl and jeer. Though tears sting my eyes, i always manage to suck them back and move on, hoping that one day i'd be free from all this pain.

I sit in my chair, looking at my mother curse my father with words that i've grown used to over the years. They've been at it since i was 6 and 12 years of this has made me numb to it. I stay still until the fight is over and then walk to my mother like i do everyday. "Dinner", i mutter and she gives me a disgusted look. I hold up my plate and she slaps a very weird looking goo on it, like she does everyday.

I push down the goo without so much of a second thought and walk outside. I look up at the sky and smile as i spot a shooting star. They say if you make a wish, it'll come true. I close my eyes and make a wish. I hold it close, afraid that someone will steal it from me if they ever sense it. I am suddenly afraid God might not like it if i didn't smile when i made a wish so i give the biggest smile i can muster as i release my wish into the sky, all the while looking at the star as it leaves a temporary trail across the skies.

THUMP! Something suddenly hits me hard on the head. I turn to see my father hitting me with his liquor bottle. Any harder and the glass would have broken and i would have been lying on the ground in a pool of blood. "What" i ask him. "What are you doing outside? Oh, little girly is making a wish. Don't you have any better thing to do? Do you really think God has time to listen to your pathetic little wish? Move over before i kill you". The alchohol in his breath is enough to kill me. I inhale deeply to avoid passing out and run into the cottage i call home.

I drift into a troubled sleep, only to wake up from dreams of absolute poverty and homelessness. They strike me every night and i wake up drenched in sweat, my heart beating faster than mortally possible. Every night i go through this.

The next morning, as i scrub plates and deliver food to zillions of customers i spotted one of the regulars. This one, i liked looking at. He was my age, always wore loose tee shirts and jeans, with some music device and headphones poking out of one of his hundred pockets. His head seemed to move to the music and he always sat with his eyes closed til his order came.

I walk up to him with his food and he smiles at me. I smile back. "What's your name?", he asks me. I am starled. Why would this guy actually want to talk to me? I suddenly feel conscious of my looks and shy away. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks again but i'm tongue tied. Nobody's ever wanted to talk to me before. But here is one, asking me my name. "Aisha", i say, and it turns out to be a whisper. "Beautiful name", he smiles. I blush, much to my embarrassment. "So where do you live?", he egged me on. "Umm..." i didn't know what to say. I decided to confess the truth since he'd find out for himself sooner or later. "The slum near S.t Xavier's church", i reply. He nods his head. "I'm Ajay", he gives his hand to me. Ok what am i supposed to do now? I stare at him. He laughs, takes my hand gently and shakes it.

"We're friends".

To be continued....


I was tagged by a certain someone who was later mad at me that i hadn't posted the tag the same day... so here it is... please reply :P and no funny answers! (SINDHIYA... THIS MEANS YOU)

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. Something I have and YOU want?
4. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it?
5. Describe me in one word.
6. What was your first impression of me?
7. Do you still think that way about me now?
8. What reminds you of me?
9. If you could give me anything what would it be?
10. How well do you know me?
11. How do you see me in the future?
12. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn’t?
13. Are you going to post this in your blog and see what I say about you?

If thou hast read the post, then thou art TAGGED!

Of sappy love songs et all....

What do you do when you are stuck at home the entire day and have absolutely nothing to do except read an extremely romantic, sappy novel that drives you to tears?

You turn yourself into a mush pillow and walk around wearing mismatched clothes, sporting a hot mug of coffee, your hair a downright mess, face looking as though it hasn't seen a soap in years and your eyes looking glassy and drunk. Basically you look as though you just broke up with your boyfriend and turn up the volume on sappy love songs....

This was what i did today. I thought it was impossible for me to get all mushy about things. But i decided to experiment today and listened to a particular song i loved for hours and hours, imagining myself dancing to it with my knight in shining armour. Well, it would be kinda difficult if he wore a metal suit, but we'd still find a way to make it a romantic dance, without his hinges creaking... hehehehe! See what i mean. I turned myself into a lovestruck girl today and it was an experience of a lifetime. Let me explain.

I was still in my two sizes too big pajamas (that were almost falling off my waist) and an extremely old t shirt that i think belonged to my great grandmother 'cause it was so faded i don't remember what colour it used to be. It was 11 in the morning. Anyway, i was too lazy to bathe so i turned to my computer for solace. I was listening to 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol when i suddenly drifted off into a dream where my man and i were living out the song. Line by line.... Here's a line by line look into my imaginary love life... sigh!

We'll do it all... everything... on our own...

Scene 1: My man and i are waking up (in separate houses), brushing teeth, taking bath, eating, getting ready, leaving ... all this is fast forward i tell ya...

We don't need anything... or anyone...

Scene 2: We're walking in slow motion. The frame cuts into 2. One half, i'm walking. Another half, he is. We're dreaming, probably thinking about each other. Without looking, i trip over a huge rock and he slips on a banana peal. People walking by offer to help but we politly say no. I catch my leg and he clutches his leg.

If i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Scene 3: Screen still split into two. I lay on the pavement thinking about him. He does the same. We try looking all romantic to pose for the camera (my mind that is). Suddenly it starts raining. Both of us chorus "Oh shit!" at the same time and try to get up but trip and fall again.

I don't quite know, how to say, how i feel

Scene 4: Still focused on pavement, now concentrating only on me. My back hurts. I don't know how many bones i've broken. My leg is already broken, i conclude. I want to say something. A million emotions run through me. But all i can muster is "Need to pee!"

Those three words, are said too much, they're not enough

Scene 5: You bet they're not enough. No one seems to hear me, and as my bladder screams for help, i lay there spread eagled and all (here my imagination takes wilder turns) wondering if the rain will wash away the stains of the guilty deal i was about to commit.

If i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Scene 6: I think you know what i did here.. shalt not get into gory details. And yeah, i kindaaa forgot the world (wink)

After this, the music suddenly changed to 'Far Away' by Nickleback

This time, this place, misused, mistakes!

Scene 7: 2 frames again.... the both of us get up at last and i look back at the sin i have committed and walk faster. Mistakes! Mistakes!

I love you, i loved you all along, i miss you, been far away for far too long

Scene 8: We are both walking faster.... faster... down a long road... hopefully at the end of the road we'll find each other :P

I keep dreaming, you'll be with me and you'll never go, stop breathing, if i don't see you anymore...

Scene 9:
Here we see each other and sigh. We slowly walk towards each other. My heart is beating faster....closer....faster....closer.....faster... I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK!

On my knees, i'll ask, last chance for one last dance. Cause with you i'd withstand all of hell to hold your hand

Scene 10: He comes closer. And then drops down on one knee. It's so romantic. I'm suddenly wearing a white wedding gown and his carelessly tucked in t shirt changes to a wedding tux. He reaches out for my hand and takes it. He then kisses it and gets up. He puts one hand around my waist and with the other, takes mine and puts it on his shoulder.

I wanted, i wanted you to stay cause i needed, need to hear you say....

Scene 11: I lean against his chest and relax. We dance to no particular tune and the rain starts pouring again. I don't worry about my mascara or my eye liner trickling because i'm not wearing any. I lift my head and look at him, his handsome face smiling at me. He leaned in to whisper in my ear. He said.....


What?!?!? I woke up from my day dream to find my dad, with steam coming out of his ears. Uh oh! I knew i was in trouble. I desperately wanted to go back to my dream man and listen to wat he said. Oh man, i wish i could have just listened. And it broke my heart.

I became a drunkard (5 bottles of water and still counting) and now i've come to terms with the fact that i may never know what those words were. If only my father were 5 seconds late... damn! My heart is broken!

Then situation song was playin on my comp. 'Turn back time' by Aqua. I wonder where that song was all these days... And my dream ended with the words

If only i could turn back time,
If only i had said what i still hide.
If only i could turn back time,
I would stay for the night
If only i could....