While I wait for the Sunrise

While I wait for the sunrise...

life is silent amidst all the noise
life is dark as i walk by the illuminated city
life is crying as I hear so many giggles

I am tired of smiling
I am scared of letting my tears out
I am cautious of not letting my sobs loud

... I am scared as each day passes by
... I am apprehensive of tommorrow
As I know I have nothing more to look for
Other than wait for the Sunrise!

In a minute life changed
I saw it slip away from my hands
I felt the sun set in my life

The sun set
The cold froze my soul
The tears still flow
And wait for the sun rise to show me light

The Bride...

The alarm is ringing, its 18.00. I have no choice but to wake up from my afternoon siesta. I needed this sleep as its a late night show and the last thing I want is to feel sleepy at work. Should I give myself the luxury for an extra 15 minutes on bed??? Hmm, maybe yes. Its not everyday that I have such a sweet sleep, especially after the Slovenian turmoil in office.

Or maybe not! AS i open my eyes, I can see the foggy weather outside and it makes me want to curl inside the quilt more but then I suddenly feel amiss in my room. Oh ok, its the table lamp which has gone off. All of a sudden the entire place looks all dull and devoid of life. Maybe I should get up now. Not appreciating this change in my life, I decide to have the luxury of a hot water shower.

Water does rejuvenate me and now its tea time. After preparing an extra strong milk tea, I head towards the small make believe temple that I have in my apartment. After the usual complaints and new developments I inform God, I receite the new mantra that ammama has taught me. Its for good compatibilty between me and my fiancee. Hmm not fiancee yet, still a long 5 months to go.

Mom dad is extremely happy these days. And what more can I ask for? Of course they will be happy. Their only daughter is getting married. All that they can think of is the engagement, wedding, jewels, sari and what not. Especially mummy, I am sure for her own wedding she was not this excited. Well well, mom was telling me that by this week the hall for the engagement needs to be booked and I have not heard anything about it. Maybe i must mail them now and ask. Must also remind them to book and keep the beautician. I want to look special on my engagement :) :)

I am not saying because I made it, but the tea is lovely and what more possibly can I ask for in life.

... and I sign into my gmail account. Four mails and yeah I have a mail from home.

Subj: Confidential report received...

As it takes time to open, my eyes go past the lovely table lamp and suddenly I realise how dull my room is and yes the mail says...

I again look at the table lamp. It was not just the room that has gone dark, its my life too! Mom dad has found some earthy shaking facts about the person whom I was promised to be given away in marriage and now they are againt this match.

The tea has gone cold. It must about 4-5 times since I read the same mail again and again. The last line asks me, what do suggest we must do?

I had known once what it was to be heart broken and now I feel the pain again. I didnt know I was beginning to like him. But why did I feel hurt? I look out and its foggy. I walk up to the balcony and the mist makes me wet on my exposed skin. The cold is biting right into my soul but I am able to take it.

I wanted to be a bride adorned in red with my neck shining in yellow. I wanted the fragrance of the jasmine flowers from my hair to spread all around. I wanted to lead a simple life as somebody's woman. And now I stand here, all by myself with no clue as to what is next in life. All these days I have been looking forward for May 16th 2010 and now I fear as each second passes.

Frantic calls from home to make sure that I am okay. I dont want to cry on the phone that will take away their ease and give them sleepless nights until they see me next. I wish to burst out in tears, I wish to scream and complain. I wish I had never tried to be the son they wanted and be myself.

Its been close to 8 hours since I received that mail but the pain is still 8 minutes fresh. Soon the sun will rise and a new day.

As each moment passes I will have to accept the fact that I am no longer the Bride I was longing to be...

Budapest Banther!!!

Its been close to two months in this beautiful city. I have people asking me every second day whether I have adjusted to this place. The answer I say is that I am still sinking into the system, at times I feel I belong here but at some instances I am so new and lost.

Today I want to share some of the musing experiences I have had in this hidden gem of Europe (thats how Budapest is known as, I have not travelled else where in Europe; pls excuse if its else) :

1. TOILET PAPERRRR- My flight to Budapest was a connecting one through Istanbul. After a tiring and seemingly long flight I land in Istanbul. After obtaining the required transit boarding pass, I chose to freshen up. As soon as I enter the ladies room, (like a typical indian i peek in to check if the toilet is clean and as i am convinced) i proceed further to relieve myself. After I finish with the nature's business I look around for the ass gun ( thats the long pipe which u will find in all the toilets in Asia which is used instead of toilet paper) and I was shocked. Oh G, how do I even move out from here. CLeanliness. I hestitingly use the toilet paper.

I come out and keep scrubbing my hand with loads of soap and look around for a cup so that I can sneak in some water inside the toilet. I stand there for a while and notice that no people have a complaint and are happily walking out of the toilets. I still stand there feeling extremely dirty. A small birdie within me reminds " Be a Roman when you are in Rome!" Maybe its going to be toilet paper from now on...

2. NO ENGLISH! ONLY HUNGARAIAN- How could i go alone to a foreign place. atleast let dad come and see how the people are and get you settled, that was what my mom kept chanting all the while i was preparing for my trip. i had a tough time convincing her and told her its not going to be difficult. they will take care of everything and how is there a chance of me getting lost. I know english, I am educated. So what can go wrong!

I am waiting in the long queue in the Budapest airport and the sudden idea of exchanging euros to hungarian forints hits me. I look back and ask the lady if she knows where is the nearest money exchange centre? she looks at me as if i spoke something funny and says something. all that i could understand is from her head shaking and frequent eye narrowing is that she doesnt get what i say. I some how thank her and decide to find out as i leave the place.

I find my company driverwaiting outside. I happily handshake and get into the waiting vehicle. The city is beautiful, it reminds me of the english counttyside that i had seen in the serials which i had seen when i was young. But something was funny. the boards, the posters, the shop everything had english script but it was not english. I ask the driver and he in the english with what he can manage tells me, here NO ENGLISH ONLY HUNGARIAN!

3. WATER..VIZZ??? After the initial mandatory formalities in the office, they be very kind to me and tells me that i could start from the monday which meant that during the weekend i could take some rest from the jet lag. I get back to the hotel, have a nice long, warm shower (during the shower I see rolls of toilet papers tucked in the shelf up) and just fall on the bed. I suddenly feel my throats parched and look around for water. Hmm, they have not kept any drinking water for me. I decide to walk up to the reception and ask for some drinking water.

The gentleman in the counter seemed amused that his guest has come asking for drinking water and politely guides me to a mini bar which is available in my room for water. Like a very good indian girl (i dont drink and so i didnt bother opening the mini bar when i had first entered the room- what if some body finds out and spreads rumours that I began to drink once i reached the foreign lands). I walk back to the room and find the mini bar and see a pricelist on top. so i must pay for the water i take from here. hmm ok.

i find colorful bottles and take the water bottle out. I was extremely thirsty and gulp the water down and within the first gulp i realise this isnt water but soda. but this is the only water bottle that i find. God where am I? No ass gun? No english? Now No drinking water?

I some how manage the night. I decide the next day when i go for breakfast i shall ask the lady to serve me some water. The lady asks me what water i want? HUH??? water had types? I said normal water? She is absolutedly taken back by my response and adds, no no u drink water with vizz? Now what on earth is vizz? i said drinking water. she asks me tap water? whats wrong with her? how can i drink tap water? i ask her to get me a glass of orange juice instead.

It was later during the day i realised that people drank soda the very way they drank normal water. the water bottles with blue caps were water with vizz (soda) and the water bottles with pink caps were still water. there was nothing as normal water. everything is normal here!

4. NO CHICKEN!- First day of office and now its my first lunch break. As soon as I step out i dont know where is that i must go for lunch. Somebody told me there is a nice shop down the lane but all the shops look nice. where can i get lunch?

I walk further down and find a nice restraunt which looks like what will fit my pocket and smile at the man behind the counter. I look in to the menu and realise, NO ENGLISH ONLY HUNGARIAN mantra is implemented here too. I ask him what does he have in chicken. I am sure I will not find anything in vegetarian. He looks around and says no chicken. WHAT? NO CHICKEN? but i smell meat around. did he mean that his chicken dishes are over or what? What do i do for lunch?

he sees the confusion on my face asks " you india!". I wanted to tell him I am not India but I am from india. but yes for him I am india on the whole as a package standing there with long earings, kohl eyes, a small bindi and a dupatta neatly drapped to cover up the essentials. He asks vegetable? That suggestion itself let a hundred thousand fireworks set in within me. When was the last time I felt this? Maybe when I was first proposed marriage...

I trust him with whatever he gets me in vegetarian and here my lunch comes. Its pita bread stuffed with boiled vegetables with a spicy youghurt mix, well not very much my choice of lunch. But beggars can never be choosers.

Hunagrians love meat and turkey and chicken is not a popular choice. Hmm I come from a place where you will find Chicken Countys mushrooming everywhere. So that was my idea of non-vegetarinism!!

5. NO CHILLI POWDER!!- I am happily settled in a cozy studio apartment. Hmm the kitchen is well equipped too. I decide to go and get some grocery shopping done the very next day. With the help of some indian friends I find my way to the nearest supermarket. Milk, fruits, coffee powder, youghurt, bread, butter and now I must get some salt, sugar and chilli powder. I was well warned earlier by some indians that spices are not widely available in supermarkets and we need to make it to the indian shops to get some. maybe some chilli powder and salt shoudl be fine to feed me for a day or two until i am taken to the indian shop.

searching searching...i have gone through all the possible powders that supermarket shelf and i find no chilli powder. something red i see is paprika powder. will it be the same? should i take a risk. but how can it be that there isnt any chilli powder? disappointed i head towards the billing counter with the rest of the stuff!

Paprika powder is the equivalent of our chilli powder but very mild in form. The local cuisine is bland and flavourless

6. SUMMER TIME IS NO CLOTH TIME- the weather isnt like when i first landed Budapest. it was getting warmer day by day and i began to notice that the girls on the streets began to wear lesser cloths comparitvely each day.

A colleague at work asks me, " are you feeling hot?" as she inspects me top to bottom making me consciuos of my half sleeved long kurta and jeans. I smile and tell her no and notice her as she walks past. she has her bare essentials partly covered in white and on top has a netted coat in lemon yellow. i dont know whether she forgot to put on her cloths in the morning or is that all she had to put on for the day.

I begin to notice the other girls in the office. It was all the same. Beating heat was by exposing their bare skin.

However what I began to wonder was why is that only women felt so hot at a temperature of 32 C and not the men? I see the men clothed the same from the day I have come. It was usually burmudas and t-shirts for them. Doesnt the heat hit them?

7. SHE IS MY FATHER'S WIFE- A usual chat with the team members before beginning any show is usual. A telephone operator who was on holidays for a week come back and I was excited as he told me that he was holidaying with his family as his father with his wife from Panama.

Father with his wife? I excuse myself and tell him that i dont wish to intrude and ask him why does he say as my father's wife? he smiles and tells me that the lady is his 60 year old father's new 38 year old wife. i didnt wish to ask further. The first feeling I had was of the age- gap. I also remember the hue and cry made when an older President was set to marry a younger model girl.

This has set me thinking. Why should it have hit me like this? My parents have an age gap of 20 years among them and there are so many people who do the same in India. Whats wrong even if an older woman married a young man? Marriage is also about the union of the souls. Do souls and your inner self have an age?

He might not wish to call her mom but he has the respects and love her like another person in his family. Relations might be different, handled differently but at the end of the day no man wishes to be alone. The mention of family does bring back some memories and yearning!

8. I LOVE INDIAN MEN- It was one of those parties held in the office where we could cook our traditional cuisine. I chose to cook some butter chicken sensing that the curry itself will be rich but mildly spicy that the local people can take it.

After the cooking and feeding the people, a person comes up and initiates a chat about India. I was impressed by his knowledge on gayatri mantra, rajma, irfan pathan and abdul kalam. I think he did manage to touch the weak points of any indian- religion, food, cricket and personalities!

As we continue our chat I casually pop up the question as how does he know so much about india and he very casually tells me that his ex was indian. i say i am sorry. He further tells me that i need not be sorry as he didnt love me. I am unsure if i heard it right. He or She? Out of curiosity i further ask what was your ex' name? His name was Arvind! ARVIND??

I have personally never had problems with people's choice on their sexuality but this was my first time when some one opely admits his sexuality. I come from a country where men marry gurls so that the society doesnt get to know their sexuality!

I look back to him and begin to notice his mannersims. He adds, you know i love indian men. I didnt know what further to say except that " I too love indian men!"

9. SIR, SEX?- As I usually go for work at nights because of the night shows, I have a cab coming to pick me. I have always seen pretty gurls in skimpy cloths (it is still summer) walk up and down the streets and catch up for a chats in those several benches lined down. I am now used to their stares and nudhing when i walk past.

One day as i wait for the cab when he was unusally late, I find one of those pretty girls walk past a man standing probably an arm distance away from me. She in the most coy way possible looks at him and asks, " Sir, sex?" I felt a hot flush followed by a cold shiver. Sex workers get their transactions done so openly. This was followed by the man disagreeing to her price and walking away. I turned back to look at her. She winked at me and went behind the next man, " Sir, sex?"

She sold her body like vendors in India sold bindis and bangles.

10. YOU MISSED SOME GREAT WEED AND MARIJUANA- It was a host's birthday party in my office and due to some reasons i could nt make it to the surprise birthday party thrown for her. After a show as i catch up with one of the other hosts, i begin to probe details of the party. I ask him what was the food ( the very typical indian in me who judges how good a party was with the food served!) and was a relived to find out that i didnt miss on anything because there was absolutely no food served but it was loads and loads of drinks.

I wanted to know about the dancing and fun and this host adds on-" you should have come. you missed some great marijuana and weed! it was killer stuff, never had anything such. you missed it" As soon he said that i was scared for him that nobody hears that. People would be upset if they knew he did drugs. But wait a second- if everyone in the party did marijuana and weed and if he is speaking to me so casually about it then does that mean that i work in between a bunch of drug addicts???

11. A PHOTO PLEASE- it was like any another day but i guess the girl in me woke up. I wanted to look beautiful and whenever i wanted to look beautiful. It meant a salwar khameez with a beautiful duapatta which had to be left swaying, long earrings, a beautiful bindi, an extra line of kajal and hair left open. while going through my earrings i decide to wear a jhumka and some bangles with it. I look at the mirror and I am perfectly satisfied with what i see. Nothing is to much just in place.

As I punch in my entry card, i have some one from behind telling me nice dress. I smile back thanku but not satisfied with the compliment i walk down to my computer just for more comments on me and my dress. Very happy with that and with a day with everything in place I check on my kajal once again before i leave for home.

As I wait for my bus, I notice a young lady with a gurl child of maybe 4-5 years looking at me. She comes to me and asks, can take a picture? It takes me a second or two i guess to realise what she wants from me. I ask here again what? She says she wants to take a photo of me with her daughter standing next to me...

In india people become stars because of not wearing cloths and here in a foreign land i become a star because of my cloths...what an irony!

11. EYEBROW WAXING-Its been over a month and my eyebrows begin to look like an overgrown forest. With some tips from an Hungarian friend, I walk tinto the nearest Kozmetika and tell her that i need to get my eyebrows done.

A very pleasant looking middle aged lady takes me to an room and asks me to take a seat in a reclining seat. I think the last i saw this was when i went to get my cavities filled in at the dentist. I am unsure whether she understood what I want. Another lady wearing a white coat (very similar to what my dentist was wearing) walks in and switches on a white overhead lamp and begins to inspect how overgrow are my hairs. I begin to doubt whether this is a clinic with the way they went about with the services. She does some basic work and asks me - EYEBROW WAX? WHAT ON EARTH DID SHE MEAN WHEN SHE SAID EYEBROW WAX? I WILL BE LEFT WITH NO EYEBROWS?

i explain to her that i need to get the stray hairs removed and with a quizzing look she assures me in hungarian that she will do that (i suppose thats what she meant). I with all my heart pray to God that let this experiment not go a waste and I be in a condition to leav for work tomm.

She applies a round of hot wax and gently places a strip on. I hold on to the reclining chair tight. Now i know why she has kept it here. without any caution she pulls its hard and i feel something peeled away from me. She did that some 3 times, followed by some soothing cream massage and showed me the mirror. I was amazed with what i see and was happy. No wonder she is still having her shop open here.

Paying her I tell her that i will come to wax my eyebrows again next month...

...my confidant

trust my blog to know me

u will see the world through my eyes. I have done several wrongs but i have always ended up in that thinking i was right. Life has taught me its lessons...

i am not afraid to speak my life in this platform

my life is to be an open book..

hmm...

my life is to be an open blog

The greener grass the other side...

I was wondering how life is? Or maybe should i say how my life is...
As a child, I was well pampered like any other child who is born and brought in the middle east with all the means by parents could afford to. I always used to fancy the kids' goodies in school and wanted the very same even when i had the very same but of better quality. i always liked things when others had it with them. (I wonder whether there were kids who used to facny my goodies too)

As I grew up, like any confused adolscent even I was confused and everything in life was rosy and beautiful. Right from cloths to friends to careers. maybe thats why my career interests changed from a psychiatrist to an interior designer then a business lady and finally i ended being a show director for television.

College was no different, I always liked the cloths others wore but i realised that i didnt have the body to carry it. i always loved the hair cuts the gurls had but my hair wud just curl up after a hairwash post the cut. uff those days...

it was those times when everyone was falling in love, everyone had a boyfriend. how i envied those gurls who decked themselves up and went out on dates. I always had my mobile phone by my bedside waiting for some prince charming to call in and say that he wants to take me out ( now you know what was the most immature feelings I have had). It was a time when i felt that i too needed a boyfriend to prove myself.

in one of the those several waits and immature attempts- i found that guy who was all that i wanted. a prince charming, the rough and tough guy and the son my parents would want. happiness was no bound when he asked my parents for my ahnd in marriage.
for once i knew that people envied me!

however good things come in small packages and my package was probably too small that i could not even open it- my knight in shining armour rode away and i was left battling with confusion and emotional turmoils. i began envy gurls who had steady boyfriends from years. i began cursing my luck for taking me to such a point which was never there in my wildest dreams.
college was nearing its end and every one had a job, except for me. i just didnt clear the HR rounds. I hated myself for everything. I didnt know what to blame and how to blame!
my life has its own plans, an unoticed test a neglected interview and disinterested rounds of conversations got me a job in Budapest as a show editor.

today i understand that life will give you what is in store for you- no matter what you run behind. There is something like destiny, the grass does look greener on the other side but who said the greenest grass is the best?

Now i realise how much i have missed in this 23 years by not being content with the small joys which life had kept offering me while i was busy trying to reach up for the starts when the moon was right on my lap. maybe this is the part of growing up and learning.

hmm maybe i have not learnt it enough because i am beginning to wonder why is that my parents are not thinking of my marriage as all my friends send me marraige invites and family pictures from honeymoons from far away lands...

Some things will never CHANGE (maybe...)

the show is still going on...

I walk by the empty streets of Budapest. Its close to 5 in the morning. It was a tough day- the 3 hour long irish show followed by a very long wait for my cab to drop me back home.

The wind blows softly and a curl of hair gets to my mouth.
The only sound i hear is of my sandals and anklets (something which fascinates many here and of course annoys to- the anklets are too noisy it seems!!!) . I dont get enough of seeing this stretch of land so empty. The long lanterns, wooden benches and the beautiful cathedral on my way to my apartment makes me feel so light. I could be here like this forever.

I notice twilight far off- the sky is getting brighter. I walk past faster. i must get to bed before the sun actually rises. I often used to wonder a couple of years ago- why do people work during the night times. Night is to sleep. Night was at sharp 10 and morning was at the wee hours of 6. not any more. Night means loads of coffee, game strategies and real time graphs.

I open the doors to my small apartment. gosh, again i forgot to switch off the laptop before leaving and have not filled up the water bottle. As i walk in to the kitchen i find the dinner's leftovers and the utensils have not been washed. Its getting brighter outside. A quick glass of orange juice, dress change, face wash and i cover my face with the quilt (just to create the dark effect of the night!!!)

I close my eyes tight. I must sleep.. i must sleep. I take my mobile from the bedside just to see the time and its 5.45 (what 5.45?????) sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep.

everything other than sleep comes in. the dishes to be washed, the house has to be vacuum cleaned, must call home tomm, must buy a new sandal tomm, must go to the supermarket, there are no vegetables, must get some new scothbrite, there is....

im searching for my mobile, the sun has yet again managed to seep through the curtains right inside my quilt. Its just 8. i can sleep upto 10 today and then begin the chores.. have loads of work to complete! i feel dazzy, my head is heavy. no no..sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep

i feel funny. my head is still heavy and i cannt find my mobile phone. i wonder what time it is and it 11! WHAT 11? i am late. i cannt do the shopping, no dishes.
quick quick coffee, quick shower, quickly fill the water bottle and run to the bus stop. i must get to office by 12 atleast.

WOW! its 12 and i am still at the bus stop waiting for my 112 to come past and take me from here. the sun seems to shine on top of my head and makes me feel sweaty and dirty despite a cold water shower. i hate this! this is not how i want to begin my day.

with a quick bite from the pekseg which i manage on the way to the office i begin to fish out for coins for another cup of cofee to keep me going.

coin 1..coin 2.. coin 3.. the cup comes down, sum cofee syrup falls in slowly i begin to take time to notice that the nail polish on my toes have worn away and maybe i must visit the beauty saloon this week- a hair cut and my eyebrows are over due. i must also maybe treat myself to a hot oil massage and also.....

BEEP! the cofee is ready and so am i for yet anotehr day

... nostalgia

as i walk past hurriedly to catch my waiting cab during the mid hours, by the fasion street of budapest- the smell of beer and the costly cigarrettes make me nostalgic of the wafting smell of ghee melting into dosas and hot spicy samosas in the streets of Bangalore!

A mouthorgan in my Tiffin Box

My legs move faster than my thoughts
My hands held tight to my bag
But I wonder where is this journey leading me to...

I try to catch up with the rat race
I try to be one among them
But I wonder what is the purpose of all this...

I close my eyes after a long day
I think of the new day to come
But I wonder what is that i want to achieve...

I no longer have chocolate pieces with freinds
I no longer have a doll to play with
I no longer have someone to wait for
I no longer have a mouthorgan in my tiffin box

Forgive me...

Forgive me for loving you so much
And I will forgive you for not liking me enough

Forgive me for staring at you all day long
And I will forgive you for looking past me

Forgive me for playing all your games
And I will forgive you for toying with my emotions

Forgive me for all those surprises and cheers I gifted you
And I will forgive you for wiping the smile from my face

Forgive me for the endless love I showered you with
And I will forgive you for making me want your love

Forgive me for still living in your memories
And I will forgive you for forgetting me in a day...

....becoz!!!

When my cheeks are pink
When my curls are soft
I need you by my side
I need you to make me shy...

When I’m dressed in red
When my neck shines with gold
I need you by my side
I need you to make me feel beautiful...

When my tummy bulges big
When I get those kicks
I need you by my side
I need you to feel our love within me...

When he makes me run around
When she fusses over those green veggies
I need you by my side
I need you to make me assert...

When she first brings her guy home
When I catch him having his first puff
I need you by my side
I need your shoulder to fall on...

When they leave our nests empty
When cheques fly in home
I need you by my side
I need to pray for them with you...

But when my sight goes bleak
And when my hands are no longer soft
I need you by my side
Because I need to love you...

Masala for the Soul

As we walked in, the hizz sound of dosas getting crisper and the aroma of madras coffee made us feel very much at home and hungry. Sangeeta, this is where my family usually frequented for tasty, cheap wholesome Indian vegetarian food. My family was particualar when they ate from out, my mom wud b more than happy if she cud get peak view to the kitchen and check if the cook washed his hands before he began the chooping and frying!
As mom was fasting the whole day, we walked in around late evening, right in time to break her fast and start the possible feasting. As she settled in for a mini tiffin (an appeatizing combo with a masala dosa, mini idlis, vada, upma, rava halwa and of course a nice steaming filter madras cofee) and a poori bhaji, rava dosa for dad, I decided to go for a paratha and Mango lassi. Something about Sangeetha wat I always liked was the people who came to eat here. You could find young moms relaxing with hot masala milk teas with their little ones trying hard choosing which color chutney shud they dip their idli next in; families with big shopping bags marvelling on their latest bargains over long glasses of watermelon juices ; young lovers conscious of the open places and people watching them, still struggling to enjoy the syrupy gulab jamoons; tired hungry laborers asking in to get watever is ready fast as they cool themselves under the full speed fan! The crowd just fascinates me. Its such a thrill to hear indians speaking in Hindi, Tamil, Telgu, Malayalam, Bengali, Gujrati and so many other indian languages with the hotel staff as they walk in. It is absolutely fine to speak loudly, laugh heartily and feel Indian here!
Like any other day today was no different. The same type of crowd, the familiar faces, the appetising aromas, the very much Sangeeta feel which I was enjoying while i sipping the cool mango lassi. As I try to get a peice of the juicy mango from the lassi, my eyes see a difference in the crowd and begin hearing something which i am not used to hear in this place. it was not the usual 'vanakams' or the 'kemo nachos' my ears were accustomed to but this sounded like a dozen of ducks quacking. It was not those with the red round bindis or brown skin but with paper white pale complexions. Maybe China, Japan or Fillipines they came from!
Everything around me became blurred as my focus shifted to this school of people who occupied 3 tables all together and trying to decipher whats written on the yellow plastic menu card. as the energetic waiter comes with his white notepad in hand to take the order from this special group, the guests struggled to pronounce uttapa (oodapa? or was it odhapas?) to puliyogre (pooligaras something like that), doubts regarding the difference between paper dosa and neer dosa ; is mini idli a kids combo meal (maybe they had HappyMeal from Mcdonalds in mind) and many such queries which the waiter tried to answer with his broken English with lots of Tamil backing! After an unsuccessful whole 2 minute struggle between our continental guests and the periye waiter anna, a smart kid from them points to the plate at the next table and says "Get me that!". "Masala Dosaaa" exclaims the relieved the tamil waiter as he happily scribbles in his notepad and begins to look around at many plates around and taking the orders as many of them decides to point around to others' plate.
As i walk out behind my parents I enjoy the sight of the gleam in the eyes of the 'Chinkis' (popularly people with oriental looks are referred to in the southern states of india) as plates of dosas and vadas arrive with small steel bowls of sambar and an array of green-red-white coconut chutneys!

A Guest!

I love some days, maybe a day like today.
Hmm i woke up fresh after a nice peaceful 9 hr sleep. Had hot masala dosa and a vada with a big cup of steaming hot milk tea. well the newspaper 2 didnt hav anything disturbing today for me 2 read but also had a heart touching story on the reunion of a reporter with her family who was in jail on spying charges. I really dont know this gurl but i felt so happy for her. wat more can u ask in life other than being united with ur family. just like i am at home rite now.
it has been over 5 years since i have peacefully been at home. 5 years it has been since i 1st left home 2 attend college in bangalore. i still remember that evening when mom dad had cum 2 see me off in my new hostel. thier flight was scheduled at night. they wud say bye 2 me, check out from the hotel and fly back home. fly back without me. i was so scared that moment. how cud i b alone without my dad? how would i cross the road? whose arms shud i hold on when i walk on the road? mom will nt b there again.
they told me every 6 months when college closed after the exams they will take me home. and from then every 6 months i was at home. a guest for not more than a month usualy. but every time i was home, i had tis yearning 2 get back. coz tat was were all the fun was!
i didnt notice that i kept cribbing of getting back 2 my friends at the comfort of my marooned and gold lined cushioned sofas with the cool air blowing from the air conditioner behind me and the wafting aromas of the tuna cutlets being fried specially for me.
2day when i just cannt get enuf of it- by viwill be visa call will be answered anytime and i will have 2 leave. to a new place, to new people..again a new journey would begin. like always leaving behind those 2 people of mine who is so precious! just to be a guest again but maybe this time every year or maybe once every 2 years

Strange Obessions!

Like the title says, it indeed is strange to have obessions and especially if you obessions are stange.
It was lately that I had seen this movie on India- Pakistan conflicts and such. The movie moving in its usual way of pleasing the Indian audience also did a good job of portraying the way human emotions were tortured. It was a scene of where a group of militants forcefully dashes into a house and tries to physically assault and torture women and use religion as an excuse.
The scene if taken from a professionally media person's angle, it is extremely well shot using a lot of symbolism to signify to the audience as to what is happening. where as from a comman man's point of view- the scene just hits the chord rite. and tis is wat has gt me thinking.
though that was an integral part of the movie and changed the way the story goes, i was wondering all these things would be happening in real life as shown in tis reel life.
The discomfort of being brushed aside by a person whom you dislike is sometimes untolerable so what will it be having to give in to the force of a man without choice?
I have wondered so many times what is all these wars and terrorism leading us to? What is the rationale of those people involved in all tis? i dont see them as any different from me or any one i know. i understand the basic need of any man is to have a plate of delicious dinner and a peaceful sleep.
What peace can u gather after all tis?
how can u even look at urself straight in2 the mirror?
a physical wound will heal but the inflicted mental state will remain!
I dont know how to put it further.
It is disturbing to think of how silly strange obessions can be!

Looking back...

After a sumptous curd rice lunch and lots of butter milk to wash it down, i wanted 2 catch on sum sleep. I swithc on the air conditioner and curl inside my warm and always loyal quilt, my cell (still on with my airtel number for the ease of my friends 2 text me at times) beeps and i hope it is from sum1 from the land of my beloveds. only to be disaapointed that yahoo reminds me that i am currently signed out from the messenger..
however that has set the train of thoughts to run...
i miss the mornings when i had to wake up listening to that boring alarm tone and still find anisha (my favourite room mate) still sleeping as if its just night. after fooling myself and the alarm with several snoozes i make it up sleepy to the kitchen to boil milk for tea. well tea was one of the motivating factors for me and rani 2 wake up in the mornings. as my tea is hot i catch up with the newspaper and i see my lovely rani make her way from the bed.
as we catch up over tea and the newspaper, i again have my alarm setting off reminding us of leaving 2 college. and the its a mess, a mad mad rush. fights for the washrooms, banging of the doors, crowding for mirrors to apply layers of kohl before leaving for collg.
well collgs was anything but fun. backbitching, peals of laughtes, gossips, coffes, samosas and wat nt.
well after collg again i rani wud catch up over cups of tea and strolls on the terrace. wat life!
after nt so nice and sumtimes fantastic dinner- i miss my gossiping sessions with ani in our small bedroom. i used 2 love it when she used 2 switch on the music frm her cell phone so that nobody could hear us bitching...
God wat a life!
I miss my friends, I miss home, I miss life

My come back

Hmm... Maybe after suparna maam's blog assignment tis is the 1st time i am logging back 2 my blog. When maam had her 2 hours of lecture on blog as a new media tool adn after a special guest lecture, i was still nt sure why people wanted 2 blog...

All those things about blog being a digitalised diary and wat not! but my million dollar question was a diary that 2 on the internet so that people can know your deepest dark secrets.. technology sumtimes amuses me. it either makes people stupid or God alone knows...

But to come to think of it now...then wat am i doing here? well i think all the bloggers out there just me like me (right here now!) it is the thrill of speaking out loud in the cyberspace and the uncertainity of being noticed or nt migh b giving a high!

yet to discover it