Things people say!

Picture a fat punjabi aunty in loud clothes with a lil nerd boy of about eleven years by her side. 

He's picked out a pair of shoes he likes, she's trying to haggle.

"Bhaiya..hum humesha sirf lactose shoes hi pehente hain.. theek theek price lagao!"

And I'm already ROFL! Only I can't actually do it, or she'll smack me with her blingy hand bag! 

While the poor dukaandaar at sarojini market kept a straight face thru the "lactose"... I was amused! When i narrated the story to my colleagues, one was quick to say.. "you've scripted this!". To think, I wish i had!

It's hardly the first time a faux pas of this sort has been witnessed. or well, FOX PASS as we jokingly call it! A sweet gym trainer in delhi was playing with his iphone and I asked him a simple question which took a rather dramatic turn.  "which version are you using?". He laughed as i continued doing some abdominal crunches, leaving me confused. Then again, it's standard response. Don't understand something, laugh and exit frame. I thought that's what he did...until he returned a while later and said.. "shaadi ke pehle toh virgin hi honge naa sir!".

It was my turn, to first be very confused (because i had no idea what he was talking about!), then later amused..(because i realized he thought version was virgin!). It's almost like he's decided to gimme a lil gem on each visit. This visit to delhi, I was on the treadmill when he came over to say hello."You're looking very fresh," I said pointing out the obvious. "Fresher kahaan sir.. dus saal se gymming kar raha hoon!". Mental giggle! Again, he is a very sweet guy...and i noticed he simply catches a word or a phrase from a sentence and then goes on talking! on the bright side, there's never a dull moment in the gym!

Good times!

P! :)

 

Blah!

Only a few episodes old, and its already my favorite show on tv! That I anchor the show, may only be clouding my judgement slightly, but that doesn't take away from the fact that BLAH is after all, a fun show!

Watch Blah! Saturdays 11 pm and Sundays at 8.30 pm on Headlines Today!

:) Paras!

The wedding!

I admit its crazy! 

But it's not crazy because the channels want to intrude the wedding of Sania and Shoaibh. It's crazy because just about anything on the Shoania (as Headlines today insists on calling them!) seems to be getting whats called in the business "numbers". 

English translation: it's selling!

Their house in hyderabad is nothing more than ordinary. If this country had produced more female tennis stars, there's a good chance that our dear Sania wouldn't merit this much attention. And had shoaib mirza been blessed with that thing called common sense, he probably wouldn't have married Ayesha (appajan or begum still unclear!) on the phone)

I mean ..what could possibly be the circumstance that would make a couple get married on the phone. Green card, yes. Citizenship, yes. Want- to -indulge- in- fraud- and- need - to - be- married- for- it, yes. But other than that, which couple in agrreable mental health want to commit to each other for the rest of their life over the phone. what if the networks bad? What if the call gets disconnected after the second quabool...What if you've accidentally dialled the wrong number?!!!! Haha! or is that exactly what happened?

I have to admit, When this thing started, I was convinced the Ayesha woman was a fraud. Seeing it through the end, I'm convinced it's not that she's cunning, it's that he's nothing short of stupid! She'd my wife (he said in archive interviews), who is she (he said on live tv), she's like my appajan (he said soon after), talaq talaq talaq (he said fially putting it all to an end. So what if he did divorce his "sister"!

Call us pessimists, but none of my colleagues from the media seem to give this wedding more than a year. Some whose marital lives aren't going particularly well are willing to even trim it down to 6 months. Theories even include "Sania's doing this because she has tax liabilities and she needs to show expenses. Enter 15 crores settlement) Personally, I find that preposterous. You hire a good CA to file returns and evade tax, you don't get married! And certainly not in the same jewelry you wore for your first engagement that broke off!

The media's milked this cow,  (no , no..not ayesha!) dry... but something tells me we really didnt get the true story. Somewhere between the out of court settlement and the speculation, money changed hands...and the story lost!

Aah well! atleast the two will get to hump their hearts out now that they're married and not have to worry about another Fatwa!

P!

MY superhero denims!

You know the feeling. 

Your favorite pair of denims is beginning to wear out and that t shirt you love so much is beginning to fade. In a perfect world you'd be able to go out and buy another pair just like it in a flash. Only it isn't a perfect world and the sartorial god isn't on your side. Not today, atleast!

My GAS denims have been with me for long. At about twelve and a half grand , sure they were a stretch, but when you consider the fact that I paid about 1500 rupees for them, the deal doesn't seem so bad! How? Don't ask!

Now, these are no ordinary denims mind you. They are Uv protective. They come with a temperature control option and they have a unique florescent gel that can help forest rangers track me, should I get lost on a trek in the jungle. uhh..ok , quit rolling your eyes. Truth be told, these denims can do no such thing, heck... no denims do! but the one thing that makes them soooo good is a fantastic fit! And trust me, that's a novelty! 

Now, if your wondering what's preventing me from buying exactly the fit, shade, size blah blah... problem is GAS in India has shut shop (pun intended) ..and what only began as a dillema about denims is soon going to extend to t-shirts and what not.

Imagine tees that make you look like your in shape, when you actually aren't. Fabric designed to conceal donuts and brownies oh my! What am I going to do when these things begin to wither away? Why can't good clothes last forever. Why, god, why!?

P! ;)

Weeding it out

The weed didn't choose to be a weed. It didn't choose to grow in a pot that already had a more desirable plant in it. The wind just carried its seed there. It had no choice but to grow. Unwanted. It only tried to live. Drank it's nourishment from the soil. Basked in the glory of the sun. That it slowly began killing the other plant, the one that was potted with love, was perhaps not intentional. Or was it?

Is it the weeds fault that its a weed? Perhaps not. Would it be a better living being if it didn't kill the other plant in the bargain? But then it wouldn't have fulfilled the job of a weed, would it now? 

I don't feel great pulling out the weed. But it IS killing the other plant. One that was a vibrant red, and flourished merrily in the first few months is beginning to look more and more frail now. It's space being taken over by another being. Its water being absorbed before it can get to it. The rays of the sun being blocked by the tall stems of the weed. The parasite. 

We simply plant the unwanted guest in another pot. The weed didn't choose to be a weed, after all. 

Of glasses and more.

I wonder sometimes about the glass being half empty or half full. Not because I’m trying to figure where I stand on the optimistic scale…but because I’d like to know which way I would’ve seen it if I didn’t know the psychobabble behind it. Who doesn’t?!

 

I’d like to think of myself as a positive person. Heck, I think I might  even be tipping dangerously towards the “its all going to be great” side of the scale. The tarot deck might refer to it as “the fool”, a card I get very often in my readings. It’s the image of a boy walking merrily, not knowing he’s standing at the very end of a cliff. He couldn’t care less though. Between gravity and good karma, it’s karma that always wins and his chances of falling head first are one in infinity.

 

I remember reading in ‘the secret life of bees’, that people start out one way but don’t often turn out the same. True. I’ve always believed that things have a way of working out. And part of that belief has come from the fact that it’s something that’s always happened. I’m not sure how, but it always has.

 

Back to the half full glass, or half empty, is it?

When I racked my pretty lil brains about who this experiment might possibly work on…the answer flat out was ‘anyone who doesn’t know about the theory’. Like duh. Problem is… its one of the first few things you learn about life when you do personality tests or Type A or type B tests and what not. (I’m type A if I remember correctly). It’s a trick question that everyone knows the answer to. Doesn’t seem so tricky then, does it? If by some stroke of genius you did manage to catch a child before someone spoiled the fun by telling him the rationale behind this lil trick, I don’t even know if his or her vocabulary would be enough to render the experiment conclusive. Assuming our bright little lab rat says “where’s the rest of the water?”..does it mean he’s wildly upset about the glass not being full or curious when it will be. I know, makes no sense to me either.

 

Now whenever I’m taking one of these fun personality quizzes (they never get old, really.). Are you a born millionaire? Are you a good lover? Are you the life of the party? Do you have a penis that all other men envy, …kinda tests…you’ve already figured by the third question which of the a) b) or c) is going to give you the desired personality type. And if they’ve been clever enough to not make the results that apparent…one picks the most flattering ones anyway.

 

A part of me wants to erase the knowledge of the full glass test. In another life perhaps I’d object wildly if anyone even tried to educate me on the matter before I could take an unbiased test myself. Since that’s not about to happen anytime soon, unless a wave of amnesia hits me ( and here I sincerely hope it doesn’t), I’m going to continue being the fool from the tarot deck who might be innocent, but is atleast in the able hands of his dear friend. Fate.

Out, in the open!

We’re sitting by the river Satluj. My cousins, my aunt and I. We’ve come to this exact same spot by the river on my last trip a few months ago. And since then, we’ve longed to come back. On this trip we’re trying to relive the same excitement. If life were a formula…we’d attempted to do all the things from our previous trip…taking pictures, playing Dog and the Bone, Kabbadi…a lil trek. But for some reason…it just isn’t as much fun as the last time. Formulas don’t work for real life.

 

We’re now sitting by the river. Dipping the bottle of warm Mountain Dew in the cold ripples of the Satluj. The water is so cold..that we’re bound to enjoy a cool beverage if we wait a while. The exact opposite is happening with the bottles of water that we’ve carried…that have frozen in the ice box! The water is frozen…so can’t be drunk…the mountain dew too warm. In time, they’ll both be just right.

 

To kill time we eat the junk food we’ve carried. Some chips and peanuts. This is no time to count calories. Carefully carrying back the wrappers with us. My cousins have a little spat and the boy takes some time out to go sit alone. It’s  my job to go get him. He comes. Minutes later he hits his sister like he often does. She cries. She’s consoled…the game is back on track. My aunt is sitting on a big rock. Her pink outfit against the dark rock. The digital camera and the zoom on it..is keeping her amused.

 

Then it happens. I ask Daisy, my cousin if she wants to chant here. By the river, in the open, under the blue sky…the sand beneath us. She agrees, a little more readily than I’d have imagined. Soon we’re all chanting….my cousins, my aunt and I. And it is amazing! I’ve never chanted in the open before this. Certainly not by the river with a rock face so big…that we feel ridiculously small. We’re down about a hundred feet from the main road. The sound of our chanting is very easily drowned by the roar of the river. No contest. But six heads, sitting upright with their hands clasped looking towards nothing…catches the attention of two truck drivers. They stand and watch for a few minutes. Amused, but not amused enough to stay too long. They decide to move along. So do we.

 

The trek back up is fantastic! We’re walking up a dried up waterfall. The rocks are amazing. The thorns are not. I have a few scratches on my legs. Some war wounds and blood stains to earn bragging right back home. We’ll all embellish our stories when we replay the incidents to my grandmum. And if you happen to hear this from my grandmum, don’t be surprised if there’s a crocodile thrown into this story for added effect!

 

I love it here. I really do. I’m so grateful that I get to take time off whenever I want. And that when I do, I have people to share it with.