Random nothings!

Rains!! What's so special about the drops falling from above? I keep wondering all the time. Honestly, to the extent of sounding cynical, I don't like getting drenched in rain, neither am I interested in the conventional chai and pakodas. I would rather be indoors, make a cuppa coffee, and put my feet up. You guys thinking I am the only silly soul to be thinking like this? Nope, there are few more 'silly' people like me.  Rains are refreshing for sure, especially after a prolonged heat wave and a terribly dusty summer in Delhi. But, come on guys, it has to stop also.  A neighbour remarked, "Wow!! Rains...so romantic, sigh!" And I kept thinking romantic???? Please, dirty, muddy roads, chaotic traffic, non functional traffic signals, the bedrooms get converted into dhobi ghats, the damp smell on clothes..yuck!!! I couldn't dare to voice my negative thoughts in front of people who were actually looking at rains wearing rose tinted glasses. All said and done, ...

Had a long chat with my school friend few days back, must admit, skyping is fun and economical. We were musing about our school days, the fun we had, teasing the boys especially, playing pranks on fellow classmates and teachers, the dreadful Math, boring social studies so on and so forth. Felt really nice to connect, though, after that I was surrounded by the horrible monster called 'guilt' for a while, as I realized rather recollected how I have hurt few people. There were promises that were not kept. Decisions taken impulsively, not realizing how it would have affected someone. Actions that must have altered lives. In those growing up years, the adrenaline rush is at its peak I guess, so much that the brain stops functioning properly. Life for everyone would have been easy, if there was a rewind button, alas! not there. I can't go back and erase the bad instances from the minds of the people I hurt then, though I desperately wish I could. Today, as I write this stuff, I a...

After packing off her 5-year-old son, Akul to school, Ria sat down with her morning cuppa and a writing pad. She started off with "Dear Adi" and paused, her eyes brimmed with tears, drops which fell on the paper. Last week, again the argument had gone out of bounds, she looked at her arm, the marks were still there as proof of the violent fight that ensued between them. Yesterday was her 8th anniversary, Aditya was obviously reeling under the guilt of having hit her, his rough, dry hands left marks on her face and arm. She covered up saying, that it was an allergy caused by a new cream. She covered her arms with tops with long sleeves. She had had enough of this marriage. She wanted to part ways, go away, start a new life. Being financially independent helped. Thank God, she didn't quit her job after Akul was born, her company gave her the flexibility to work from home, a reward for her loyalty for sticking around in the organization. There was a flurry of emotions, she c...

Opened my blog, no idea what to write, kept staring at the screen for a while, finally came up with a heading for it. Then stared at the screen again. Basically, am not in a proper frame of mind, mood swings? NO, PMS?? NO. But am upset. Had called a friend cum neighbour in the afternoon, who lived just opposite to my house in the previous locality, the minute she picked up the phone, she asked "anything important?", What happened to phone courtesies? And can't you call someone because you just want to speak to that person? Am I over reacting? Was it always like this? A child walks into the house with my son to play, the maids come running after him, instructed by the kid's mother, and fuss over him with a bottle of water, juice, bananas, and I looked on cluelessly.  Don't I have water in my house? I use a good RO system, which is serviced periodically, don't I have juice in my house? Don't I have bananas in my house? More importantly, don't I have a ki...

So another year, one more birthday gone by. There's something special about this day isn't it? As kids, we look forward to this day, when we are dressed in pattu pavadai in the morning, the customary visit to the temple, payasam lunch, namaskaarams to elders and gifts in cash or kind. Then in the evening, the pavadai is replaced with a lacy frilly frock, in pink and white, friends come to a decorated house to wish you and celebrate your day with gifts. Cake is cut and served, and you feel special. As we grow up, the customary visits to temple become a rarity, as you need to be in college, or school or work. Instead of frilly dresses, we wear something more sober, there are no parties held at home, friends want you to treat them somewhere else. Then as years go by, when you have a husband and a kid, your own birthday excitement takes a back seat, you are busy planning your kid's birthday, or a surprise for your husband. Nobody plans it for you. Friends write on FB, the ca...

The Emirates flight to Dubai was re-scheduled to 10:30 pm due to 'technical snag', said the lady behind the counter, quite uncaring for a Customer 'care' executive, with an acid tongue and cold eyes, fancy title used these days to shoo away customers.  "Humph!!" muttered  Anushka. She looked at her watch, three more hours, she walked around terminal 11B, went to the Crossword book shop zone, started browsing the best sellers, "Will pick up something light, no heavy stuff", she thought.  After paying the bill, she walked up to the Barista counter, and ordered a black coffee, she looked around spotted a place away from the crowd, and started with the book, when suddenly, "Hi Anu", she looked up, it was Tarun, her classmate fro St. Mary's, suave, handsome, spoilt brat of rich parents. She stood up, "Hi" she said."Wow, you have changed, you looked different in school" said Tarun.  She smiled,"I know what you mean...

One day I had literally nothing to do, so I switched on the tv, and mindlessly surfed the channels: star plus, Sony, colors, zee etc.. And spent about 5 to 10 minutes on each of them, there was a serial on Sony, where the lady of the house, is looking for a 'Sanskaari Bahu'for her US returned son. Son is 'friendly' with a girl whom he met in US and studied with her, she is shown as a Bengali, and she walks into the house dressed in jeans, top, a jacket and stilettos. Obviously, she was looked at with disgust, someone who was not 'Sanskaari' and hence was not fit to be a Bahu of a traditional house which holds its culture and respect on a high pedestal which obviously an educated jeans clad foreign returned girl can't understand, even if she is capable of being a better companion to the son, and is someone who can share his dreams and future. The mother obviously spots a simple girl in a village, who is in a Saree, singing a bhajan. The mother prays to th...