zzzzz

Dreams are fantastic things that happen to us when reality does not

RJ ing means talking without a thought

We all know RJs are paid to talk. But I wonder if it excludes thinking completely.
Here’s the context:
During New Year the Delhi Police held an anti-drunken driving drive. A week or so before 31st there was heavy advertising about the measures the police was taking and the consequences one would face if caught driving drunk. This YIELDED result, most people avoided drinking too much, designated a driver or did whatever they could. Indeed there were almost no accidents reported on the 31st night. Almost a miracle compared to previous years.
Here’s what two completely juvenile RJs with the combined IQ of an amoeba said:
RJ 1: Kitne admi thae?
RJ2: Puri Dilli thi sardar
RJ 1: Kitne Pakde Gaye?
RJ 2: Ek bhi nahi sarkar.
RJ1: Ha ha Dilli police ne mehnat toh bahut ki par ho gaya na flop show. Ek bhi nahi pakad payee….Bak Bak bak
Not only is this boring done-to –death spoofing of the Sholay dialogue puerile but it is a complete mis-reading and mis-interpretation of something very very good. It is not very often that government initiatives are praiseworthy. But when it is, as in this case, we have irresponsible and definitely incompetent media persons ruining it.
Something that can have serious repercussions as involving others lives cannot be brushed under the excuse of entertainment. If you are on air you have certain powers that carry responsibility and that responsibility isn’t just to entertain.

ever heard news that sounded like the end of the world to you. Yet others went around goofily wishing you. Happy birthday- for instance

wisdom

Marriage begins when the love affairs ends.

The End

There's this thing about endings. It's not whether they are happy or sad. It's how they make you feel.
Movie endings mostly make me feel glad. Glad that I can get up and stretch. Glad that i saw it on a dvd instead of a theatre. Glad that I saved money
Some leave me feeling bad. Bad that i saw it in a theatre instead of on a dvd. Bad that I wasted time.
Book endings are a totally different matter. When a good book is about to end, when there are fewer pages on the right and more on the left, I feel this hollowness inside. My pace slows down to a crawl. Once it took me 3 days to read 7 pages. Which means I really really enjoyed the book. There is this sense of loss. It's like parting. And knowing you'll never meet again.

every breath I take

The strange brown cloud, climate change and my inheritance have resulted in this recent ailment.
I can't breathe.
I've had asthma attacks before. But taking a puff from my little inhaler seemed to make everything normal again. But not now. It's more than 2 Weeks but every breath I take is laboured. I can feel the strain within. Which brings me to think of all those breaths that I have wasted cribbing, bitching, fighting. There would be millions of them. If only I could have them back.
There isn't much I would do with them, I guess just some ordinary things. Like run up the stairs. Talk to those who have been under the impression that am ignoring them.
But most of all why I want all those breaths back is so that I can sing till sa of the higher octave without breaking a breath. When reciting the seven surs, I have begun to feel the strain at pa and by nee am gone. With all those breaths I would go sa re ga ma pa dha nee sa. Sigh

crap crap crap

That's how you feel when you are thirty something and 'believe' you are this super mature, cynic evolved literary person, but find out you are not.
In fact am the exact opposite. Super teeny-girly, crazy romantic, trashy novel reader.

Am reading Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan. Which is not a great literary or interesting read. But a M&B. where hero is from Cricket world (M S Dhoni, I believe) and heroine from ad world.
The two meet, fight, but are drawn to each other. They try to resist but fate brings them together again and again.

The point is not the novel. But the fact that after being comfortably married for 5 years hopefully in a steady relationship, 'romance' even in a novel causes my pulse to race. I put down a perfectly decent historical book and devour (yep devour) the MB.

Am I not supposed to be past it? Am I not supposed to have enough romance in my own life to live off dregs from a novel? Why does marriage replace romance with companionship?

I know what you did last summer

Recently, while planning a trip to Goa I was checking traveler reviews for a particular hotel (infinitely truer and more insightful than travel and hotel sites). I came across this complete gem

.... it's a very romantic property. But while the rooms are spacious, the bath tub in the bath room can only accomodate one person at a time...
Sunitha (name changed) Bangalore

here's how

Being a loser arts (humanities) student there are few things the workings of which I can comprehend. So when I do comprehend one, tis a big deal.
Big enough to write about.
Recently I learnt the science behind one diet food.
Namely, Barista Slimmer smoothie.
It simply tastes awful. So awful that in case you buy it, post one sip you don't have any more.
No drink. No calorie. Perfect slimming recipe.
Q.E. D.

three cheers for global warming

Environmentally un-friendly. Ignorant. Or plain stupid.
Call it what you will, but I'm a fan of this current bout of good weather.
It makes me happy not sweaty.
It makes me singy not shouty.
It makes me breezy not melty.
So sorry farmers, crops, scientists, and all other citizens of planet earth.
Yippie Yo Global warming

I know being over the hill is not such a bad thing. During the show (mtv scooty teen diva, ref previous post) these are a few questions that the younglings answered thus:

Q. Name a phone that has a colour and fruit in its name?

A (by PYT) Orange

A (By ol'me) Black berry

Q Who wrote India's national Anthem?

A (by PYT, almost instant) Subhash Chandra Bose

A (ol'me)Ok Ok old age is not so bad

PS: Rabindra Nath TAgore

I know I'm over the hill because:
This weekend I happended to see Teen Diva on MTV and was mighty jealous of all the contestants. I kept squealing "they are so young. They are so young".

You know you are old when you see a marble lying on the road and you don't bend to pick it up.

On the edge

You know living on the edge is supposed to be something exciting and dangerous. Being edgy is cool. or hot or whatever is the in temperature.
I'm on the edge.
And I don't like it. Call it old age, gen gap pr what you will.
Today is one of those days when i feel I'll fall. fall apart. It's one of those days when I feel so overwhelmed by everything. MS word scares me. Meetings give me the shivers. Bosses creeps. Husband nervous break down. I don't even feel like reading. Perhaps I should do some crazy therapeutic thing like watching the whales. Or like this clacking at the comp.
I just want to close my eyes. I wish i could go away into nothingness.

What I miss most about being single

This isn't really a piece of writing. It's a list. (some of mine, some of someone else')

1. No Romance
Ya ya married couples can be romantic. But not the heart-skipped a beat, tummy-flipped, weak knees, I -could -just melt romance.

2. No firsts
Considering that you'll remain faithful to this one person. No first kiss, no first letter, no first fight. no no no.
3. Guilt
If you are a normal healthy male /female and you don't live on a deserted Island north of Timbuktu, chances are that you may bump into a person, of the opposite sex (other than your spouse) whom you find attractive. Anyone who's been through a heartbreak and fallen in love again will tell you that the theory of 'there's just one person for you' isn't true. Thank God.

So what do you do if you ever meet this other person also for you?

Imagine what life could be with so and so.

Feel guilty.

4. You are not worth it.

Yes you are worth it. but not worth the effort.

All the effort that people put in to impress the prospective other vanishes 'poof' once you are married. The spouse who used to douse himself in cologne feels its OK to f%*t while sitting next to you. Or dig for gold. Or not bathe. Perhaps we become so easily available, there's no need or desire to please, seduce or bowl over.

I miss that. While some may call it being comfortable. Or I don't have to pretend to be some thing else. But sometimes please do pretend.

Thank God

Amongst other things that we should thank God for, is for not answering all our prayers.
As human beings with limited knowledge and mostly, nearly no perspective, we pray for things that are not always for the best.
Example
During a certain year of my life, I prayed and prayed to God to make the mighty Brahmaputra river change its course and flow through South India. Heck I even tried emotional blackmail on God like Sadhus of yore. I did not eat tiff in for a week.
Hoping to hear something of this sort in the 9'o'clock news: "In an unprecedented event, today, the river Brahmaputra has decided to flow through the states to AP, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu. Course effective from now"
All because in a certain geography test I had named the Brahmaputra as one of the the southern rivers.
God in his infinite wisdom pressed Ignore on this particular prayer and many others like:
Please bring horrid boyfriend back to me.
Please let me die.
Please change the shape of my nose.
Please bomb my school.
please please please
Make it rain. Make it rain.

Am sure you have your own list, thanks to this thing called 'in retrospect'.
Just remember to thank God for not answering all your prayers.

Gfjkdjhjgh

Gfjkdjhjgh

That’s what I’ve decided to call it.
Defined (by me) as a particular smell/fragrance/sound/ visual/touch that brings back certain memories.

Yesterday as I stepped into the lift, I knew someone on my right was regular pan masala junklie. This faint smell of pan masala stains on cotton is very very my nana.

My nana ate pan masala like a child (and some adults) eats mango. He generously shared this treat with his kurta/shirt or whatever.
And my nani being the woman she was, meticulously scrubbed away those stains.
Although, the stains mostly lost to her iron will, the fragrance stubbornly remained.

That day in the lift the pan masala on cotton was my Gfjkdjhjgh.

After many years I thought of my nana.
In his last years he was suffering from an illness called dementia. It’s a condition not very unlike Alzheimer’s. The brain looses almost all cognitive functions. People don’t forget where they kept their car keys but how to use them. In cases even body functions, like feet are used for what? It’s not just the patient who suffers but people around him are equally affected.

Though nani selflessly took care on nana, there were days when even her resolve would fail. On one such occasion after xyx, nani burst into tears. Although nana did not recognise her as his wife, her sorrow made him cry too.

And in painful innocence, that I believe even kids don’t have, he asked me: “Suno ladki, jab hum rote hain toh ankh se paani kyon nikalta hai?”

It was the most fundamental question. Basic and simple. Like, why’s the sky blue?
I don’t know why tears spring forth when we cry. But contrary to my habit, it’s one answer I’ve not rushed to Google for.

Siavar Ram Chandra Ki Jai

Well seriously, I dare any man, even today, who can be known as 'his wife's husband'.

For ages, Krishna, lord Krishna was my fav (what mortals dare) avtaar of Vishnu. Then I began reading Ashok Banker's Ramayana. I won't dwell into the book but suffice to say. Lord Ram is the man.
After his wedding with Sita, Ram is hailed in the book as Siavar Ram. And the man still carries his own (he is just a man in the book).
It leads me to think only truly great men can pass this tough test of being addressed by their relation to a woman. This form of address does not take away from them, or make them smaller, or simply flinch. If anything it adds to their stature.
So I salute men like Ram.
Siavar Ram Chandra ki jai.

BOOM

I read somewhere that love is a chemical reaction. Now I'm no science student. But did pay attention to the subject till class 10. If it is a chemical thing, the chemicals must differ each time the reaction happens coz the people involved would be different. What if one time it's a horribly bad reaction. Like disaster. Like hiroshima Nagasaki. and the experiment goes boom in the laboratory called life?

Whatever

Today I have nothing to say. As in zilch. Zero. Am blank.
So am saying this: