Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Welcome to the Twenty20 World Champions

Put your hands together to welcome the Twenty20 World Champions as the heroes land on the Indian soil. Not a sports freak though, an Indo-Pak match does gives me this new avtaar. To me its a celebration, not just for winning the Cup, but for defeating Pakistan. Kudos to the team!!!

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Happy Birthday Krishna

I seriously miss the festivity and fun. In the mall capital of India, things are dull and dry. The spirit of Janmashtami, which commenced from the declaration of a chutti, didn’t find anything else to keep it high. The temple in my neighborhood was crowded, but there was no decoration. The market wore a deserted look as more than half of it was closed.

In my bachpan it used to fun visiting all the temples around and doing that little jhoola thing to krishan ji’s cradle. In the night it was sizzling jalebi’s and at times, eating out on chaat-papadi stuff. All of it is lost. I really wanted Maulik to experience that fun, but kinda failed. In my jaunt to the temple and the market, I could find nothing to excite me. The only attractive thing we came across was a highly creative rangoli (see picture below) that we saw at a doorstep.

With Anuj at work, finally we decided to do something to get our quota of excitement (look at the pictures of Maulik dressed as Krishna) and finally experienced something that fits my simple definition of fun. Happy Janmashtami.

Friday, August 31, 2007

The Sonipat Trip

The ping pong ( between my two avid readers has instigated me to write. Write again. Return from this long long break. Guys I am back. Wasn’t in a hidey-hole. I was visiting my parents at Sonipat....and experiencing ultimate prasannata. Mauli had a gala time with nana nani and enjoyed their time and attention. The evening ghoomi ghoomi sessions (outings) were as much a delight to him, as they were to his mom. I love to stay rooted, wish i was still at Sonipat, with Mauli getting his share of pampering from nana nani, and me having someone to fall back on - when the going gets touch.

Feels good on the chaarpai - with nani at kakroi village

Sunday morning was a religious reunion. All in the family performed a hawan together...afterall there was motivation for the same - N number of gifts that we received. Thanks mom dad for everything, especially the lovely Topaz. Afternoon too was packed with fun. The IMA (Indian Medical Association) get-together in a guest house in the midst of kakroi village was ultimate. Buffaloes, a small canal in the vicinity, little huts with khaats to rest on, golagappas, chat papadi, pakodas, and ghewar to savor, men applying mehandi, swings suspended from the trees….oh God I loved it.

Monday was a day spend on the streets - freaked out in the local market (umm the pleasures of the small town market, the bante waali nimbu lemon, the roadside khaana). Small town markets still wear that festive spirit for local festivals. The market was abuzz with colorful gifts and at the end of the day, my wallet was lighter by a kilo.

On Tuesday, the journey to my nani’s place in Indrapuram was fun indeed. It was Rakhi, and as always, we were witnessing (and having fun at the expense of) all the behane with all the jhatak matak, dressed up for the occasion. At Indrapuran it was a happy, but emotional reunion...meeting up with Nani…God cure her of all the pain.

Life cannot be all fun. Mauli had an upset stomach and the evening went down potty cleaning. Poor baby. Wednesday morning saw me back at work after the Taxi wala drove me to office from Patparganj in a record 3 hours only to be able to charge me for that long ride along munirka, vasant kunj, vasant vihar, mahipalpur (it looked like a delhi darshan trip). While quietly speeding and missing the Chirag delhi and Essex farm turn for Gurgaon and taking we way too ahead, little did he realize that it will not be an easy game with me. It pays to stay informed and hold on to your assertiveness (aggressiveness). After a verbal bashing from me, the bechara driver had no words to argue after I handed him an amount much lesser than the exorbitant amount he asked for, with a loud warning “dobaara kisi lady ko aise pagal banana ki koshish mat karna”. Alls well that ends well.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

The mid week chutti

Life may not give you enough reasons to celebrate…you need to create some. Yesterday was like a celebration. The entire evening was spent in trying to manage a luxury dinner for Anuj on the eve of his birthday. The little cake, the gravy laden subzis… an attempt in which even Maulik actively participated. Dressed in saffron, green, and white (my little tiranaga) he knew it will be papa’s birthday when he returns from work at 1 in the night. Cake cutting, followed by a nice dinner (TV lit dinner that is) was just the perfect ending to the day. Happy Birthday Anuj.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I love India


Freedom to me is a state of mind. The faith in the world around and being able to survive the way I am, without any fear in mind and body. Freedom is the confidence that I will get what I deserve. It is the trust that I can walk around on the streets in the middle of the night without attracting any stares and remarks. It is the feeling that I will get any and every support from the government machinery, something that I so rightly deserve. Freedom is a thought that I care less about what people expect me to do, I do what is right. I stand to take the first step and can see people leading. Freedom is my tool to say No, No to everyone who is trying to violate my right as an Indian. Something that comes from TOI today: you are not in a Traffic Jam, you are the Traffic Jam. So as feeling, experiencing, and enjoying freedom is a way of life, Freedom should be an initiative to stand and make a move in the right direction…an endeavor to do the right thing and a struggle to make others do the same.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Chak De India II

My new ringtone is Chak De India. Just the right starter for the Independence day meal of patriotism that we will soon have. As the country gets ready to celebrate its 60th birthday, it is a great feeling to look back and feel proud for the journey that India has traveled on the path to development. The media, for a change, is getting creative as the three Bs (Me: the media critic) are taking a backstage. From discussing about the technological breakthroughs to economic liberalization to social acceptance of things that were considered ‘western’…there are many good programs and analysis to watch out for. An NDTV poll had interesting answers for the most popular song: the final two options were Ae mere watan ke logon and Kajra re!!!

While one channel talked about the biggest incidents of shame in the history of India another channel discussed the biggest shame of the modern times. Hunger and Bribery were indisputably on the top. The Citizen X story of IBN was good – just the right time to illustrate the extent of corruption in our country and show how vulnerable the country is, to any anti-social activity. For a person who does not exist, the team was able to secure a mark sheet, pan card, deriving license and a passport…all at a cost of 30 something thousand.

The weekend is fun. Chak De India and a lot of TV watching….patriotism is on a high, just as much as the urge of doing good and being good…only to last a few days.

Chak De India I

SRK is best - only when he forgets he is SRK. The last time it was in Swades and this time its for Chak De India. A good movie, engrossing, entertaining, its strength in its perfect pace and editing, not too much of SRK and his dialogues. The story (there hardly is any story) is said in a perfectly tight and no-nonsense way.

The underlying points that were beautifully depicted: women power can rule...only the first step is difficult, media can make and break, politics and bureaucracy is killing sports in the country, and the biggest lesson Stand United.

Aaj Tak was so real. The movie has an Aaj Tak reporter who accuses SRK of match fixing only because he gets irritated on his insane, Aaj Tak like questions. This is so real….just don’t understand why Aaj Tak wanted to make fool of itself in the movie.

An enjoyable flick…the winning goal for India did make the multiplex crowd clap in unison. The little thing to say…we are Indians, and we haven’t forgotten this.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Kudos to you Sagarika

I have never liked Sagarika Ghosh too much. Only two reasons why I still watch Face the Nation: her aggressiveness and the fact that she happens to be Rajdeep’s wife. The same reason inspired me to read her book Blind Faith....but that really did not go well. Though I enjoyed the book and the style, I totally disliked the depiction of certain characters and the plot. But there are some very fine pages of writing. But every time I see this woman… (Jealousy thy name!!)

Sagarika impressed me yesterday in Face the Nation. In a debate on whether the critics of Islam are victimized by their own community, the lady grilled Owaisi, the MLA belonging to Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen party, for physically attacking Taslima Nasreem during a press conference. Nafisa Ali too was on air, criticizing this confused party leader and telling him that Muslim community is defamed because of leaders like him. Owaisi was literally baffled when Sagarika hit him by saying that if he thinks the attack on Tasleema is justified, what makes him say or feel that the attack on Barbari Masjid was not the right thing. (I think the channel later felt it was too blunt and slap-on-the-face thing to say - that part of the discussion is missing in the online transcript). Rightly said Sagarika, if it is justified for religious fanatics to take the mob way, the Barabri Masjid attack can also be termed as one in the interest of the Hindu religion. The lady seriously lost her calm when the MLA repeatedly kept saying that he did try to attack the novelist but that was not physical violence. She also intelligently brought in the fact about Mr. M F Hussain, who in my opinion is almost done with his creativity and trying out with doing funny things - nude paintings and irritating movies – to attract attention. For more on this debate, do check out

Ironically, some of these community leaders were up in arms last week to protect the suspected terrorist Mr. Haneef, the same set of people today want to physically hurt a woman, who has just expressed herself in writing. Due respect to the Muslim populace of our country, these freaks are just defaming the beautiful religion of Islam.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Me: the media critic

Every second day I swear to myself that I will no more fall prey to these 24/7 channels. But as darkness envelops my house, the urge takes over my determination and my hands grab the remote control. The end result: I go irritated, at times frustrated...and then the remorse of being not into the world of journalism takes over.

This Monday it was the Haneef’s homecoming that did it for me. The **** was let go by the Australian police, not because they thought that he was innocent man, but because they could not manage sufficient proof to keep him back for long. But the pade likhe illiterate Indians need no reasoning to get melodramatic (did I hear -look who’s talking). The janta was welcoming him at the airport, garlanding him, and congratulating him and the to-be-proved terrorist stood there looking at the foolish people, and maybe in his mind, laughing at them. Media, as always, was going crazy…he, his wife, his mom, his dhobi…everyone was a star. His cousin who brought him back is stealing more limelight than SRK these days. To top it all, the seemingly wela CM of the state visited him and even offered him a job - terror management that should be. Amazingly stupid. Finally yesterday the Australian police disclosed the chat script between Haneef and his cousin Shoaib. The transcript reads that Shoaib told Haneef that nothing had been “found about him” and advised him to tell his employer that he was leaving to see his new-born daughter and disclose nothing else. He also told Haneef not to delay his departure or lend his phone to anyone in Australia.

For Haneef it was a transformation from a terrorist (oh I must say suspected) to a Hero…but for someone else it has just been the opposite. As Sanjay Dutt moved to jail to serve his sentence, IBN7 flashed an interesting Breaking News: jail mein nahi milega tandoori chicken. I respect the judgment but common yaar, he is the same person, media went gaga over after Munnabhai’s success. Today, for the heck of a story, they are making things embarrassing for him and his family. BTW, the story ended with the reporter telling us that he finally ate Moong daal and 3 chapatis…as if.

In the Ramnath Goenka Debate, some of the channel bosses actually said that since they want TRPs and business, masala kinda stories are so much needed. The verdict was unequivocal: serve the janta what they want.

Wait till the five Ws and one H of journalism changes to three Bs and a big H. The B will sure stand for Bhoot, Baba, and Balaatkar.

Monday, July 30, 2007

The Baby Show: Part 2

Mauli has won two prizes at Mother's pride: one as we all know is for the Sunniest Smile, the other one is for Chubby Cheeks. We realized it only when we visited their school to recieve the long pending gift. One of the two (same same) bicycles that Mauli received is already on its way to the forgotten toy tub because it is creaking under Maulik's weight...he has been riding the poor 1.5 feet thing inspite of its lean structure. The 2 small batteries find no use as he goes shooo shoo with it, using his little feet to steer it. He is having a good time...and moms watching.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

What a Shame

With Gym taking a backstage, my evenings are largely on the mercy of the dozen news channels. That’s a disadvantage if you have not developed a taste (mis-taste) for the saas bahu serials. But the last few days of association with the TV has only been a source of agony and desperation. Picture this from yesterday:

Zee News: Bus ran over a cyclist in west Delhi.

Total TV: Two guys in a car almost hit a pedestrian and later whipped on his legs with a wooden log only to hide their shame.

IBN7: A bunch of motorists were over speeding and troubling others on the road near Connaught Place. While policemen decided to be silent onlookers, the media persons who tried to capture the hooligans on camera were beaten up.

CNN IBN: A 10-year old was run over by eve teasers and is undergoing treatment in a Mumbai hospital. The little girl had a near death experience under the wheels of a jeep driven by an eve teaser.

The evening became rather sad after I saw this little girl. The pretty angel was holding her dad’s hand, crying in pain. Someone with even the heart of an iron would have melted to see that, for someone who has a little daughter...i am sure would have had been in shivers. And then the thought: afterall the people who have done this are also human beings, human beings without a heart(?)...born to filthy rich parents, devoid of all the good teachings, sanskaars in life. The accused is a 22 year old boy…don’t know much about him but I wonder what made this guy grow up to become a monster…and coming to think that people like these will be the future of our planet. I feel like wrapping my kiddo in a cotton roll and keeping him in where nothing, no evil, no monster like people, nothing touches him. But it’s only a matter of time and he will need exposure to the big bad (rightly called so) world. I am scared…I really am.

Thursday, July 19, 2007


It’s become a win announcement page now. This time its Rajdeep Sardesai. Rajdeep, (the man needs no introduction), has been adjudged the Journalist of the Year (Ramnath Goenka Excellence in Journalism awards) and also been named the Newsmaker of the Year (News Television Awards for excellence in TV journalism).

Congratulations Rajdeep...we(I!!!) love you.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Mauli wins too

Taj wasn’t the only prizewinner this Sunday…the day gave us another win. Maulik was awarded the baby with the Sunniest Smile at the Mothers Pride Baby Show. It was a dull and dry event but Mauli had all the fun (like momma like son). When showed the picture of a buffalo, he insisted that it was a cow and failed to agree even as the teacher kept repeating. Everyone in the room burst out laughing when he started bow-wow when shown the picture of a dog. Congratulations my little angel.

Gosh..its a girl

Written on 6th July

Last week the incredible headlines that zapped me and flashed continuously on the 24/7 hindi news channels - “kalyug ki maa / kaatil maa”, the context – a mother in a Andhra Pradesh village had packed and chucked her 2 day old girl in a trunk. The baby was rescued and saved by a Samaritan.

Picture this: My sister in law went for a sex determination check and then got an abortion done as the report read that she was carrying a girl child.

Scene 2: The kids (a 3 year old daughter and a 6 month old son) of my neighbor on the first floor shout papa papa on the top of their voice seeing their dad’s car approaching. As the dad gets down from the car, he rushes to take the son in his arms and kisses him, while the girl stands there shouting papa mujhe bhi, mujhe bhi, to which the dad replies beta papa office se thak kar aaye hain.

I frankly do not see an inch of difference in the three scenes. The poor lady had just wanted to save her daughter from the poverty inflicted ordeal that she had to go through. In the second case, for sure bhabhi did want to save herself from the ire of the in-laws after giving birth to a second daughter. The third case…well to the guy, loving his son more than the daughter comes naturally…he has seen his parents doting him ever since he has been blessed with the son.

The point that I am trying to make with my jumbled words and confused thoughts - its in us, in the system, in the country….name it poverty, call it female feticide, or label it the girl boy divide…even the mall capital of the country suffers from it…so donno if even education is helping.

Monday, July 2, 2007

I'm back

From one post a week to this post after almost a month….life is getting busier, or can I say I am turning into a lazy bum. No gym, no walks, not even visits to the park…it’s me searching for the sleep and sleep.

The hot month of June brought in little good things…Anuj’s little achievement at work and my first ever camping tour (with Maulik!!!). Ever since I have returned, my bones crack at the mere mention of walking, my head constantly needs a pillow support, my tummy wants to save the churning job and am living on gheeya and torayi.

But all in all, the month that heard everyone talking about global warming and Indians measuring it with the disappearing lingam at Amarnath, was generous to me.

On the 22nd of June, the GSE team at office launched for a trip to Camp Bodhisatva, a camping site near Rajgarh in Himachal. I was the most excited traveller as Maulik and Mansha (Poonam’s daughter who played maulik’s counterpart) too were a part of this adventure trip. The ride from Gurgaon office to Bodhisatva was cool in that super–deluxe bus with amazing features: the headlights go off when the AC is switched on, the AC goes off if the horn and indicator are put to use, only the fans on the left are functional and that too when the AC and the headlights are switched off. Ab jaan hai to jahaan hai…we decided to put off the AC and have the headlights on. The dinner break at Sukhdev ka dhaba at Murthal was yum. Me-mauli had a sleepless night watching everyone except Amandeep (the Punjab ka puttar to the core) retiring in the push back seats. The morning tea near Solan was our first brush with mountains and I was already humming “yeh hasin waadiyaan, ye khula aasman…”

Bodhisatva was 10 tents, strategically located to enjoy the neighborhood of mountains, fruit laden trees, birds, a vivacious stream….what else could one ask for…my lungs were breathing healthy. As me and Poonam shared the tent, Maulik and Mansha started to discover friendship. The Saturday morning at the camp, after a scrumptious breakfast looked just perfect to retire to the bed….but Rohit (our instructor at the camp…a pleasing, decent guy who really took good care of us) had different plans for us. Weighing a little less than 100 kilos, I was rope walking, crossing the bridge…doing things that I really thought I was not capable of. Thanks to the team, especially Harsha, Nilesh, Neha, Supriya, and Gaurav for giving me the much needed break from Maulik….guys you were great help. Thanks. And how can I not thank Rohit for bearing the weight of Maulik and his mom (now that deserves a weighty thanks.... Thank you Rohit).

Day 1 ended with music and masti around the bonfire and finger licking snacks and dinner. While the enthusiasts went for a night trek, me and mauli had a nice time playing around, not realizing what the night had conspired for us. Just when we were chatting to fun in our neighbors’ tent, an SOS from Poonam came in as a surprise…what followed was a desperate attempt by many of us to save her. In the near death experience for her, she tested our muscle to see her going through all that agony and pain…poor baby. She sure should thank me for saving her life with the proper proper well in time medication….I am waiting.

We went off to sleep in the cozy little tents, bundled in blankets while the nocturnal birds and insects did the lullaby for sure was a jungle mein mungle feeling.

(Day 2 in the next post)

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Little Monster

Life is good running in a circle: office-gym-home-eat-sleep-morning chores-office. The weekend too is running the same cycle minus the office and the gym. The little spare time from this cycle is spent in the craziness of momhood – me and maulik. The super tiring running around in the park, the chupan-chupayi in the rooms, the chase in the garden, the fights (u gotta see the nail marks on my face to believe this), the coochie-coochie sessions (where we hug each other), and all the masti…the only saving grace in the monotony of life.

Maulik’s naughtiness is increasing by the day and it’s becoming harder for us to cope up….he runs, talks, screams endlessly…at times I want to actually hide myself in the loo to take a break from the hullabaloo. Even at 12 in the night his energy level can advertise for Red Bull, and it is an effort (read as struggle) to put him to sleep every night. God I need some rest.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Movies on the weekend

I really can’t help talking about the three movies that I watched this weekend.

Mitr: My friend was terrific, performances so so real. A desi concept in a firang setting, the movie talks about how distance roots itself in the life of an otherwise happy and loving couple. The movie skillfully depicts the loneliness of this elegant home maker, who resorts to talking to her plants and chatting to a no-name over the internet, in whom she confides everything from her life. The movie ends with the interesting revelation that the no-name is none other than her husband. A good family bonding movie….gets a little too sensitive in the middle when their young daughter moves out to live with a firang. A not to miss variety.

My Saturday pick was Bheja Fry…and as the name suggests, it did fry our bheja. A nonsense comedy with no purpose, but good, borrowed script (how do I know this..Masand told me)…and some dialogues did leave me tickled. Against what i expected, Ranvir disappoints with his over acting and Vinay Pathak takes the cake. Watch at your own risk…but never on a bad day…you might end up breaking your screen.

The movie that took me to the theatre was Life in a Metro. As much as Konkana and Irfaan added the enjoyable moments to the movie, so did Shilpa’s stunning persona and performance, and Kangana’s changed (and bearable) look. As the name suggest, the movie was an insight into the status of relationships in a metro and it did appear so close to life. The cinematography was very very beautiful, especially when they have treated the red light as a fixed point in the busy street, shifting the view from night to have to see it to believe it. The dialogues had a punch and some of them will sure haunt my memory for days.

The music was so apt, so awesome and the idea of keeping the band as a narrative was novel….the characters looked real, the treatment so strong and so deserving, Shilpa was just looking so plain striking and did complete justice to her role. Everything looked so enjoyable that even the intolerable scenes with Dharmendra and the horse chase in the end can be easily forgiven.

A mature movie…but a truly bollywoodish end, where everyone chooses the right (read as ethical and moral) path. The director must have experimented here….the audience was prepared for a more realistic, but (so called) morally incorrect end. But truly a genuine and neat effort. Must watch.

The perfect balance

Written on 19th May.

I saw them on the see-saw. They looked married for a couple of years. As the see-saw went up and down, I saw them smiling and trying to maintain a balance….maintain equal thrust on both sides. Yes it was equal on both sides...the smiles, the spark in their eyes, the naughtiness, the giggles….and the amazing fun. And there I was, sitting on a distant swing, hugging loneliness and the breeze, waiting for Anuj to return from the engagements of life. Looked like the weather was showering all generosity on them…the breeze, the lightening, the thin drizzle. Looked like it was hating me alone….so was I.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

The pleasant memories of our lovely trip are diminishing in the day to day hassles and engagements of time to pen them down. I wish the trip had been longer, but we’ll try to take these breaks frequently…this one really worked as a stress buster for me plus fulfilled the much needed need for the family to be together.

Day 1 at Haridwar was relaxing . On day 2, after a dip in the chilling waters, we were all set for more escapades. A firangi breakfast: bread, butter, and coffee in our room was planned so as to compensate for the lavish eating on the previous day. Then began our journey to Mansa Devi by the ropeway - much more thrilling than we had imagined. Mauli was so very excited about this ‘flying car’ and hated to get down when we reached our destination. Ganga started looking distant as our trolley car started to climb higher. Long queues lead us to the temple; a small structure which appeared to be situated on the mountain peak. A scenic splendor, captivating enough to make us forget the sufferings from the sweltering sun.

Mansa Devi from the trolley, Boating at Rishikesh

After Polio drops for Mauli we got into a tourist bus which made its way through the mountains and took us to another ropeway…this time to go to Chandi Devi Mandir. The place was green (Rich plantation, it was actually a forest scene created with schemed plants and animal statuette). It was a good time to put our digicam (borrowed from Ashi) to use and then began our trolley ride to the temple, located much higher than the previous one. This time it wasn’t the river running distant, but the bright sun burned mountain rocks…honestly speaking, I was getting shivers. Mauli was at his jolly best, singing Doorie at the top of his voice….even the Gods would have heard that one. The trolley lead us to this again small but enchanting temple where a bunch of monkeys escorted us for the pooja.

Chowk that leads to Laxman Jhoola, Bye bye haridwar

We jumped of the bus during our return journey and took an auto for Rishikesh. Landed at the auto stand in Rishikesh and had a scrumptious meal at some Rimpy’s restaurant. A small ride from there took us to Laxman Jhoola, which actually came as a disappointment. The so-called pedestrian bridge, which holds such a historical significance, was crammed with ongoing two wheelers. The immediate area was stinking and to walk down to the near shore for a boat ride was quite a challenge. The close to three minutes in the boat were wholesome fun, but this was the only activity that Mauli didn’t approve off. As we landed on the shore, a hand tapped on Anuj’s shoulder, “sir time kya hua hai”. As Anuj replied, the man’s wife smiled at me and I did just the same. As we started on the steep road to the auto/bus stand, the lady returned and smiled at me, my smile widened now as I stepped forward and hugged the girl….she was Sunrita, a friend from my earlier days at NIIT. We had last met in 2004 and the three years had really changed (read as bloated) both of us. Our return journey to Haridwar was more fun as the couple offered to drop us on their way back to Delhi. We exchanged pleasantries and bid good bye at Haridwar. Rushed back to the asharam to get some rest and change for Mauli.

Dinner for me was delicious faluda kulfi. Anuj and Maulik did enjoy poori-chole and halwa and then we quickly retired to bed to be able to catch the 6.00 clock train the next morning for Delhi. Looking outside the train window, humming, "hanste hanste, kat jayen raste, zindagi yoon hi chalti rahe...".

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Our Holy Dip

Our two day trip to Haridwar-Rishikesh (21st – 22nd) was energy and fun. Wish I could borrow the keyboard from hill goat and script a travelogue. Never mind, I’ll give it a shot.

The Shatabadi at 6.55 in the morning was too hard to catch after Mauli’s late night birthday bash….but we managed. Thanks to mom-dad for literally packing us up and throwing us at the station, dot on time. For Mauli, the train compartment was a room that had suddenly started to move. The journey started well, we were excited and on a high from the previous day…the enthusiasm level was so high that even the horrible cutlets for breakfast didn’t taste bad.

As we reached Haridwar, a 10 minute ride from the station to Khukhrain Bhawan (don’t ask me the reason for this name) was inviting amidst the welcoming hustle bustle in the market. The rooms had been already booked for us and we weren’t supposed to pay a penny (sounds good na?). As we were to move in to our allotted room, the manager demanded advance rent. Anuj couldn’t refuse and shyly slipped the money into the hands of this snow-haired gentleman.

At haridwar market, floating jot near the ghaat, duo at Chandi devi mandir, Mauli enjoying his meal
Our free booking was also entitled to meals at subsidized rates, but when we asked for food, we were refused. A frantic call back home gave me the realization that we were in a wrong place. Now who in the world could think there could be two ashrams with the same funny name? But there were.

After a failed argument with the snow-haired gentleman we persuaded each other saying how lucky we were to be in an ashram which is right across the ghaat: the har ki paudi. Only later we started to realize that this was for real. After an invigorating dip in the Ganges and a tummy-full puri-chola meal near the ghaat (I hope my gym instructor misses this one), we drowned…in the bed. Got up to catch on the evening aarti: more than a thousand devotees offering their prayers with the traditional om jai jagdish aarti, divinity and serenity, picturesque and soulful. Post aarti we did float our jot (a small leaf boat filled with flowers and a lamp to be lit) in the Ganges and offered prayers for our ancestors and future generations (hmm…romantic).

A evening well spend with me, Ana, and Mauli sitting on the ghaat left lonely post aarti, well lit between the darkness of the approaching night, with Gods from the temples smiling at us. A dinner of chulhe ki daal, tandoor ki roti, and pyaaz and we gave in to the insistence of our bed to consume us. Day 1 was hectic day.

For our adventures on day two, wait for the next post. (For those who read hill goat will know where this comes from)

Me interviewed!!!

Me featured in this month's issue of the MITWA (Mentors, Indexers, Technical Writers & Associates) newsletter. Check the embedded newsletter:

Thanks Abby for uploading the PDF and sending me the code.

You can directly access the newsletter at:

Friday, April 13, 2007

Water…but why?

Saw Deepa Mehta’s Water last night. Deepa is incredible in her work. The direction, the screenplay, the background scores, music, performances…everything was impeccable. But why?

I am not questioning Deepa, the director, but I sure want to question Deepa, the story teller. A story, so sad, so painful, so hurting: so intense that even your popcorn becomes soggy with tears. I agree with her excellence in conceiving and delivering her ideas, but I fail to understand why we want to show a dark page of the old age Indian society to the world. I mean why?

Every movie has to have intent: to entertain, to educate, to inform, or at least show that evil loses to good. But there has to be a purpose. Even Fire brought the same-sex relations to picture and kind of created a debate in the society. There were discussions, exchange of thoughts…and so there was a purpose well established and to an extent, achieved. But what about Water?

The movie set in India during the 1930s, tells the story of impoverished child widows, abandoned by their families and forced into prostitution. We all know about it and we all know that the social status of widows, if not too good, is at least better than what it was in the pre independence days. So why just portray the harsh hitting chapter of history and show it to the world?

Now I am no way trying to say that all that controversy around the movie was right. I feel that Deepa enjoys every right to go with her creation. But is it a film. Not by Wikipedia standards which says that Film is considered to be an important art form, a source of popular entertainment, and a powerful method for educating-or indoctrinating citizens. It cannot even be termed Alternative cinema as that is described as films and videos that provide an alternative to commercial media or to conventional topics and forms, dealing with subjects, points-of-view and formal elements not found in the mainstream. Water does not qualify any of these definitions. People who enjoy only commercial cinema would sure jump of the chairs and die.

Water is just about reading a sad, very sad page from history with absolute perfection. I admire that perfection, but why read something that just leaves you agonized. Why?

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

So long

Hey days are really flying by, and this hated busy-ness…well I don’t really hate I? But ya, last week just flew past. Work at office is real good these days and visit to the park with Mauli takes away the evening. Three days at the hospital (well no serious reasons, just found the doc too cute) wasn’t too good a reason to waste the weekend on. But it has sure generated a healthier me…instilling in a positive feel about this newly found love in life…The GYM (hey, close that mouth). My visit to the gym every evening is sure making me feel good (read as lighter) - courtesy the poor instructor whose machines must be creaking by the end of the month. But the guy sure motivates me and has promised me ‘perfect ten’. Amen

Movie update: too many on the list. 300 (i did'nt enjoy it), Red (DO NOT WATCH IT), Time Machine (super cool fiction), and Ghost rider (so-called horror which left even mauli laughing).

Saturday, March 31, 2007

It’s been a busy week…

Last Tuesday saw us at PVR Sahara for Namaste London - typically Bollywoodish, but enjoyable. All fun coupled with a little crankiness from Maulik, he stood by his decision against being in the movie hall. How we managed...well don’t ask me that.

Namaste London was good…for the UK factor in it, for Katrina (who looks so apt as the British-Indian mix), for Akshaya (who rightly deserved all the whistles and applause), for the pleasant music (trust me, I otherwise belong to the ‘we hate Reshammiya club’), and for the choreography (can't ignore Akshaya’s yummazing style in ‘chakna chakna’….the man looks sexy) . While hubby dear was all smiles throughout, the crowd too was euphoric.

My good notes from the movie - Teri Yaad by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan (thanks to Himesh for not trying this one himself) and "ishq di mere mitra pehchaan ki, mit jaave jad yaara jid apnaan di" (by...obviously the dialogue writer).

Check out guys….a promising package.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Welcome the Spring

Cool breeze in the evening and an early sun in the morning, longish days and plants at their best.

Time of growth and renewal, its spring again, a season which brings in cheerfulness and freshness. Enjoy the breeze guys and and let life bloom the nature way….hey check out this shot from my garden...looks awesome.

Another reason to cherish: its mom’s birthday today. Happy birthday to the woman of perfection…the only imperfect thing that she owns is….ME!!

Monday, March 19, 2007

Happy chicks, no chicken

New paint on the walls, new plants in my garden, and reality in its new avatar…life rocks.

A lovely weekend: laid back, fun, a couple of good movies (the good ones were final destination 3 and mine, yours, and ours), frequent visits to the children park (mauli at his best with the neighborhood babes), experimental cooking (which turned out to be good!!!) and….ab aur kya.
Mauli with the babes
There are days in life, good and bad. And when you are going through those, that are bad, it is important to hold on...hold on to what you want, hold on to your dreams….and happiness will sure come your way.

It's neither easy to aspire, nor is it to inspire. After Abby was able to inspire me to blog, i aspired to make some follow...everyon should have the right to expression and happiness. So when Nikhil (a workplace friend) started his blog (its all about him, singing...highly recommended material), I saw that fire spreading. Ashi and Ipsita have already landed here. Long live the power to express and the media to communicate.

Hey, some of the entries at the blog mela at Toe Knee Unplugged were awesome, just in case.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Copy Cat

See i always told you media lacks creativity...check out this add in HT today....i mean look at this, they are stealing ideas from my blog(check my previous post). Ch Ch!!

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Its back...

A word about Nirula’s, and there I go for a trip down the memory lane. In one of my earlier posts (2/7/07) I do have written about it being one of my favorite hangouts during college. Now what new?

Nirula’s has come up with its newly designed flagship outlet at Connaught Place after its acquisition by…I donno who. The new outlet promises an Indian contemporary look yet stays international (remember the ice cream gulabo). Everything...just everything about this place called Nirula’s rubs in nostalgia.

Where did I meet my hubby the first time?
Where did he propose to me?
Where did we spend all that time together that translated into love?
Where was our first lunch after marriage?
Where was our first dinner after moving in to Gurgaon?

Well as the answer to all the questions reads Nirula’s, need not say that it is still special to me and very special to my memories. From a person who lives to smile with memories and dreams...some places are too good to forget.

Welcome back Nirula’s.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Holi ke din...

A little too late to write about Holi, but since the memories are fresh, so is the thought. So here I go.

Holi was fun: me, maulik, anuj...we had the best time ever. It was good to see that Maulik enjoyed playing holi as frivolously as I do (unlike his dad who is the ‘touch-me-not’ variety). We were the worst painted and are pink on the hands even today. But I love the color, especially if it paints my heart too with contentment….and so it did.

Check out mauli with dad (first pic) and mauli with nana, nani, and me (the ugliest one).

We had the best possible time, and it was togetherness, more than anything else, that was keeping us vibrant. A quiet dinner in the night was just sufficient to mark the day as perfect...touchwood.

Indeed a Happy Holi!!!

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Today is International Women's Day

"When did you flip a situation so you could resist, when did you give back as hard as you got? When and how did you choose to confront? When did you become an Action Hero?"

Trust me, when you act to become an Action hero, you look like a heroine on a bollywood locale. Also take my word: when in this country you are being sexually harassed and want to fight back, NO ONE will ever help. So it is you who needs to decide and act or else sit back and be a source of sadistic sexual pleasure to an unknown bastard. Me decides to revert most of the times.

Today is International Women's Day, and as promised, I have my Action Hero story to narrate.

I was traveling in a state transport bus from Sonipat to Delhi. A nodding uncle on my next seat decided to use my shoulder to lean on, every time the driver decided to break. Occasionally I wud feel his arm trying to rest on me on all the wrong places. Any smart woman can identify a ‘touch’. I just pumped up my strength and waited for the next jerk, “thud” went the brake and there went the uncle’s head on my shoulder. I was all set and there I went “uncle mein yahaan aapko sulane ke liye nahi baithi hoon” (I am no sitting here to make you sleep). Now this appears to be a normal story…lemme bring in the spice.

The uncle, too embarrassed by my high-pitch complaint, decided to revert in the same tone “ek to itni der se haath peir maar rahi ho, ab chilla ke neend kharaab kar di”(After repeatedly trying to touch me, why have you now disturbed my sleep with your scream). Now that was a little too much to bear. I took a deep breath to think and plan and act: I called up 100, informed the cops and requested them to help me when I reach ISBT. All sounds in the bus died out and what followed were murmurs and turning heads. I looked at the uncle who had started panting as he heard me on the mobile, maybe wishing that it just turns out to be an empty threat…it wasn’t. The moment the bus stopped at ISBT, two cops who had just then emerged from a PCR gypsy got into the bus and called my name. I didn’t have to say much, the cops were decent and pulled the guy out from the bus, signaled me to follow.

The uncle was too shocked to say, the only words that I cud hear were “didi kya baat ho gayi”. He was all red in face, partly with the knock and rest with embarrassment. Picture me standing there, right in the middle of some hundred people, many trying to just get a glimpse of the Beauty and the Beast. Some were even trying to play hero: “arey didi jaane do na inko, achhi family se lagte hain” (let him go, he looks to be from a decent family). Delhi Police was at its best that day, the cops were shooing away the tamasha loving janta. This was a situation hard enough on the strength that a woman usually wears, I don’t know where that extra dose came from and how I just didn’t break down. An FRI would have become tedious, so I decided to let the uncle go. The cops did make him touch my feet and say sorry…another deeply embarrassing situation. The crowd sure was making me feel naked, but I am happy I was able to fight out and stand tall. Did i inspire the women folk (I maintain that I am not a fanatic feminist). Hey prowling guys (am I sounding feminist?) watch out...the next Action Hero may just hit you on the face.

More Action Hero stories on

Friday, March 2, 2007

An early morning thought

The day started too early for me…and the morning was so beautiful, thin sheet of fog and dew on my garden. Gardening for sure was the best time pass…and there I was with my tools. Thanks to the recent downpours, a lot of weeds have mushroomed, some of them trying to give my rose plant, a run for nutrition. The obvious retort was to dig them out...and I obliged almost musing Paul Coelho’s lines from “Like a flowing river” which read that weed is a plant too, who gets the same amount of sun and life from God, but it’s only our perception which makes us decide on which is a plant and which is it, that we want to disregard as a weed. Now some of the weeds had really come up was hard to de root them. I decided to rehabilitate them into a huge tin (cookie pack) that I cud find.

An interesting news item lengthened my though process: The ancient “foundling wheels” concept (a revolving wooden barrel lodged in a wall, often in a convent, that allowed women to deposit their offspring without being seen) has made a comeback in various places across Europe wherein they have modernized the drop-off points, some of them are even equipped with a heated cradle and lifesaving instruments, including a respirator.

I kept thinking about the modern foundling wheel aka the cookie tin pack.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

Blank Noise Project

Me not too sure what the enthu bunch at Blank Noise Project is doing, but brother Abby is actively a part of it. Anyway, i'm sure impressed with their 'bang on the face' approach and daring street activities...i think i like them. March 8 is Women's day and the folks at the Blank Noise Project are asking all to share your story of fighting back. I am gonna post it soon, and its easy.

To participate:

1. announce the event.
2. blog your story
3. email about it and they will link you right away!

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Sleeping tight

Jaagen hain der tak humein, kuch aur sone do…the song quite describes the transition in my pattern. Yeh that’s right. After months of restiveness on the bed, finally I like to sleep…I am enjoying every moment of this revived activity, just want to do more of it, more often.

Like the past few days, last night too I slept at around twelvish (now that used to be like early evening for me)…but maybe last night I kinda succumbed to this movie that I was watching. Traffic Signal is the name: a movie thats irritating to the core, right from the word GO. It is just about naked children/beggars on a traffic signal with our dude, Mr. Kunal, a manager to the business at the signal. I mean we all know that beggar mafias exist, and we know that police and doctors are a party, and so there is just no need for this shabby and superficial representation which is blank on the bottom line. Someone please tell Madhur Bhandarkar that we too read newspapers and so there is no need for him to foolishly club some news stories into a movie. To top it, the movie wud test your patience with that unbearable background score (shore is the hindi word for it) and the music. Time for us to say a bye bye to Mr. Bhandarkar, or better still, he shud bid us goodbye. BTW exept when it comes to Farhan Akhtar movies, I quite seem to agree with Masand (banda ye bindaas hai), read

The only good pick in the entire last week was Cheaper by the Dozen 2. A through entertainer with Steve Martin at his ever best, the movie so beautifully paints a picture of family bonding…a scene or two did jerk my tear glands. Well tears remind me of something very interesting that I read lately: tears brought about by different emotions have a different chemical make up …isn’t that amazing?

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Ek aur chehra mera...

Kshitij ki tarah door, bahut door hai mann
Na uska, wo sapna, jo chahta hai use pana
Na uska, wo sach, jo rehta hai usse door
Na kshitij ka… jo na door, na paas, bus akela

You too here?

Do not want to think about the logistics, the fact that i have been able to inspire someone to land here, makes me happy. I am sure it will help put words to all those unsung emotions, blue or pink. Welcome aboard!!!

Tuesday, February 20, 2007


I saw dreams again, this time in the eyes of the 15 young candidates I met for interview.

In those 15 pair of eyes, I saw dreams: to make it big, to earn good, to travel overseas, to make their parents proud. Rejecting any in the lot was a tough job, because it was so crude to suddenly wake them up and perturb their dreams. While one wanted to support his family financially, another one wanted to make it big…the way Dhirubhai Ambani did. Sounds infantile, but have we not dreamt the same when we passed out from college.

The nervousness of the candidates reminded me of my first interview, and that was with Raj Kamal Jha, the genius behind The Blue Bedspread (read the book to believe that he is one), the book that won the 2000 Commonwealth Writers' Prize for Best First Book (Eurasia region) and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. One look at him, and I wanted to run away. A stern and no nonsense person, his room was full of smoke… that must have been his 79th cigarette of the day. I was in my second year of college then…too early to face that man of intellect.

I could relate to the nervousness of those candidates, to the thoughts running on their mind, and more so, to their dreams. Those were my dreams 10 years back…time can place you on any side of the table, but dreams are forever.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Live your dreams

I keep repeating this in my posts, but this is something I believe in.

My belief further strengthened after I watched Guru. No point saying a word here…we already know it is superb. The movie reinstates my conviction on “Dreams”. Why I keep repeating this: yeh because all these years of my life I thought life is real, reality is life, beyond this, there is nothing. Suddenly one day I met my dream, he told me that in the one life that we have, we need to live for ourselves, we need to look for what we want. I was introduced to a new world of dreams, and exploring beyond that. This was the world where you think out of reality, think of making it happen, and that is much beyond the life that you are living.

Live your dreams, live your life and dream of doing all that you want, that you can, and all that you think, you should. F*** that something we term as routine and try and do things that you dream of….

BTW we got Mauli shaved off again, isn't he looking cute?

Wathced Salaam-e-ishq: Minus Salman Khan (who looks constipated as always), I enjoyed it thoroughly, though will not recommend it.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Baat phoolon ki

Phir chidi raat, baat phoolon ki...(remember the song)

An interesting story to share: It all began on a Valentine’s Day 12 years ago when Karuturi, a mechanical engineer, was sniffing around Bangalore for roses for his wife (how romantic). Finding none, he decided to step out of the cable business he was running and plant high-value stem roses for a living. He set up Karuturi Networks, which now processes 12 million roses annually (behind every successful man, there has to be a woman).

This Bangalore based company is now close to acquiring the Netherlands-based world’s largest producer and supplier of roses (they produce 9600 million roses annually!!) to emerge as the global leader in roses.

Country is living the days of acquisition, Tata, Birla and now this little known one from Bangalore. But unlike the other two deals which smell of money, this one radiates fragrance.

How much I love flowers. When in those years of college I was dreaming of being rich and famous, I always used to plan of getting 10 roses and 1 gerbera (I love that flower solo) delivered every morning. With time, since the richness and fame didn’t come in, the dream is lost. I hate that.

But its never too late to try to relive dreams and dream better. I love flowers but no one gives me any(are u listening). So what, I will have what I want…cross the road, bargain a bit and get my choicest collection.

This solo gerbera on my desk has given me immense pleasure since yesterday.

As for future, maybe I will bring my dreams to reality if I am rich, or maybe someone decides to plant a few stems for me…u never know.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Happy Valentines

It’s Valentine’s Day. And so what, at 30 I am not supposed to feel mushy mushy, say I love you, wear red. My take on that…why not. Because when was the last time you did anything like that….see it’s taking you long to remember. So today is the day. More so, we are in a country which looks for reasons to declare celebrations, so why not today.

It’s a good day to connect, express, make out, reach out to people you care for but have lost them in time. Just like Sid, thanks Sid for calling, I was really touched…off course, imagine a young, handsome business tycoon calling you early morning...the day has to be special…or has to be made special…whichever way makes you feel good.

The love of my life…mauli has a heart shaped tattoo that I made early morning from that leftover red nail paint. My way of doing something to make the day special…

My idea of a perfect valentine…me, my life, my dreams. So as me is with myself, my life is so close to me, and I am getting closer to my dreams….the day is so good, so beautiful.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

It's a sunday, it's a funday

Sexy is the word. The chill, the rain, the breeze that wipes off melancholy. Hey the weather is so very beautiful. Rim jhim rim jhi, rum jhum rum jhum, bheege bheege rut mein, tum hum hum tum, the beautiful song from 1942-A Love Story is so apt…listening to it and cooking chicken in the kitchen. And how can I miss the marvelous wristwatch that Ashi brought from Macy's at US and those oh-so-yum and seductive mint chocolates (dear friends reserve my share, not so dear ones finish it). God is grateful on Sundays.

But it has never rained like this in my memory…since Mauli had recently gone bald, sir mundate hi oley pade was our pun in the day. But trust me, our garden was all white with oley/hail (don’t know if the English equivalent says it correct). For someone who has lately been missing pahaad ki sardi, the day was a delight.

Look at the picture to believe that there was actually a sheet of oley in our garden and the windscreen of my first floor wala's car broke too. God i love you!

Dor: A movie worth watching

A beautiful day, so nice, so cold…so romantic. Typically these are the days when my emotions are on a high and thoughts run on my media player throughout. A solitary walk outside the house on our deep dark road and a few thoughts go rolling….I watched this movie Dor last week and a particular scene therein was fiddling with my peace during the walk.

In the movie a young widow was harassed by her mom in law but a senior lady in the family (who was a widow too) was supporting the girl. In this particular scene, the girl and the lady (the two widows) were standing in a room and her mom in law was preventing her from going out. At this, the senior lady lamented: you should not forget humanity in the proud of being with a man, because you too may be in this room one day. The mom in law stepped back and allowed the young girl to go. The emotion and thought with which this scene was executed is truly mind blowing.

A good suggestion for the weekend, watch the movie. It is a not-to-miss variety.

Friday, February 9, 2007

We love Rajdeep

CNN-IBN’s editor-in-chief, Rajdeep Sardesai has been named Impact magazine's person of the year for 2006. Good. He is one of those three men whose pictures have made it to my books and desktop. (no i am not writing about the other two). He is adorable – a delightful package of intellect, style, and charisma. The channel impresses and has all the ingredients of a perfect news channel. Congrats to the team!!

Shortcomings cannot be ignored, and that comes when you start selling your name more than your work. Amitabh and Abhishek have made it to CNN- IBN news more than anything and that is disappointing. The coverage on Nithari though is not too great. The investigations are escaping IBN cameras and reporters. A story today on the same really enraged me because they referred to the deceased girl as an ‘alleged call girl’. I mean was that even relevant...she died an uneventful death and that is it. Why do we even want to get into the details of her personal life? We cannot forget the fact that it was only because of her that the killing of those innocent souls came to light. Her family members went from pillar to post to get their complaint registered and inspite of the police atrocities, refused to give up.

We must feel gratified towards her family for fighting up the corrupt officials and today when the world is dazed by this goriest incident of the times, Mr. Reporter chooses to believe the police and do a sketch of the poor girl.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Live firangi, love desi

ICICI has started this automated ticket service system wherein u enter the bank, enter your service requirement, get a printed coupon (service number) from a machine and then wait till your no. and the counter no. where u need to move to is flashed on the screen. I was impressed. The first time I learned of this service feature was while doing the web-based training for Maybank (Malaysia). That impressed me even more since the concept appeared innovative and too kool. Experiencing it practically...well I quite liked it.

ICICI bank branch reminds me of Nirula’s. So much alike they are, both launched with an international appeal promising to bring the international flavor to their offerings and both gone down to become so desi over the years. The bank branch decked up with banners and cut outs of shahrukh khan and the gold coins quite appeared to me of some surplus from Diwali, too loud and too appalling...It is supposed to look like a bank…Isn’t it?

Same with Nirula’s, a synonym for ice creams and all the junk food that was unheard of in those days. Pizza actually to me was introduced by Nirula’s, and we used to proudly go there and say 212 to convey that we wanted their mushroom capsicum pizza, which on the menu list had the same number. With limited options and that craze to try the delicacies with firang appeal, Nirula’s indeed was a hot spot in my days of college. Today I come across customers waiting to order samosa-chola and kulchas at Nirula’s. The last time I went there, I even saw a platter with dal makhani and bhindi tadka there….hello whats that?

The bottom line…well I need to prject an upshot from my words at work…well it is just to bring home the point that with Indians, desi rules. An Indian is born Indian, tries to live firang, but in the end, dies Indian. Point made.

Dad's got a job

There are days when life stands still. Even with the breeze outside, nothing seems to move. No trees, no leaves, no strands of hair on the face, no dupatta - it is just silene everywhere, obviously replicating the silence inside. But at times it becomes difficult to know why, and there is no reason for that unknown fear, will i lose something today, suffer anything, will anything go against me, is a failure coming my way...donno. But for sure there are days when there is this absolute killing silence inside..the condition which the happening generation may define as feeling low.

Okay so i was feeling low today. Suddenly a news bangs on my mobile phone...Dad's joined today as National Rural Health Management Consultant…Wowowo! Finally this breaks the lowly feel and I am on a usual high again ready to take on the world.

Monday, February 5, 2007

Nothing lasts long....

Pleasure for sure comes from good things, and all good things are not real.

The weekend was good, days away from reality and nights so close to dreams. With mom dad around, the feeling of pleasure was so very intense. Chatting, eating out, shopping, everything so material…but pleasing. (Some thousands down on the credit limit is all it takes to be happy…really?)

Well no…it was just the touch of pleasure. The touch of dreams at night and the touch of illusory in the day…and nothing is for real, and for long. As papa was zipping my pullover in the trial room, he made me feel a kid….wish I was. “No u are not buying this…the neck is so deep...the trouser is so ill fitting….hey this looks like done for you…You need to buy this

Completely putting their heart and soul into me, they helped me choose my wardrobe to put an attempt to make me look good, they actually made me feel school-going. Nothing good lasts long with me, they have left for Sonipat….thanks ma-pa, you really pampered me to ecstasy. Will miss you!!!

Saturday, February 3, 2007


Pleasure to me is a relative thing…cannot see it, but feel it within. And the sources of pleasure can be innumerable- physical, mental, and emotional. Every sense of pleasure emanates in its own unique way. It can be a smile, a touch, a whimper or just a hug….even doing a paranta for Maulik is pleasure.

Pleasures also come from dreams, distant dreams…and we do experience that…we get, what we need in our dreams, from our dreams…with no touch, no smile, no hug, just a feeling that I can see what I want….and try and live the dream. Feel like thanking my dreams, they inspire, they make me love myself….and they please.

It’s a Saturday and as we be with our families, should not forget that greater pleasures come from very small acts of benevolence... make sure you do that.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

India is proud...

All the media dropouts like me who have been making bread in other industries, would have sure spend a moment every day trying to criticize media for where it is going. Times of India is creative but not quality, Aaj tak is cheap, media is getting into sensationalism…bla bla. For sure I would have been making the same mess if I was there, but the escape route is always easy….and the next step, sit back and criticize.
But I am sure for me and my friends for whom everything in black and white is bible, today is the day of worship. Tata has made it big and Times of India has complemented the big win, just the way it deserved. The front page which was a treat to the eyes speaking creativity and a style that is just so appropriate.

The headline, India on Song, Takes Corus Along so well echoes the music of the indiapoised anthem, wherein it says (I’ll do that in hindi bcoz that reads better) “Ab humein swadeshi ka nara chod kar videshi comapnio par tiranga legrana hai”…Ratan Tata has just done that and is making us all proud.

Three cheers to the man who is making us proud and to TOI for so rightfully capturing it in just the right way!!

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Art of talking...

Kirk Arnold, Vice Chair and President and Chief Executive Officer and Aurora Coya,Senior Vice President, Global Practices at Keane. Women power rules Keane and that for sure inspires.

The eloquence of Aurora at the Open House yesterday was impressive, infact more than that. Her words were spontaneous, transparent, and hardcore business. Her straightforward verbalization invited me to understand business decisions…and I felt as if I was a part of it. This is how I perceive communication: way of saying things the way audience can hear and relate too and an effective communicator is one who can step down to the level of the audience and then explain to them eye to eye.

In a place like Keane, where things like communication, expression, body language are alien, Aurora impressed me. The managers here look tired and sleepy and some of them ready to retire (not just from Keane). Sukant is the only Keanite in India who impresses the indolent, apathetic, janta at Keane. He really has mastered the art to impress with his witty and down-to earth message which does go down to everybody comfortably. Hoping people of the energy and style like Sukant and Aurora bless us often.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Sunday musings…

Remixes are passé. This is the generation of dare to dream directors….and thus remakes. Don and Umrao Jaan: same story, different canvas. It took me some guts against the public outcry, to finally demand Don from the CD parlor. I admit…I liked it ... cinematography, performances, costumes, techno outlook and a lot more things. Accept it or not, the movie is really good, only if you stop being a part of that national campaign which says Big B jaisa koi nahi and Shahrukh we hate you because you try to give Amitabh a run for roles and money. You even stole his part in KBC…how dare you (an offended freak even called Shahrukh a prostitute in a post on IBN). We know Big B has no equal…don’t we. Even to say that Big B was better is…well foolish. I mean who in the world asked you to compare. So relax…Even Masand at IBN disappointed me with his scene to scene comparison in his review of the movie….but that guy I am sure has something against Farhaan Akhtar(he cud not appreciate Laksya too). Big B and King Khan cannot and should not be compared...if you do that, better shut up and go and watch the gibberish Priyadarshan comedies.

Umrao Jaan's failure...hmm: a mismanaged and hastily executed project, which cud have been better. I did enjoy the beautiful lady in there, she was trying to act good (i said trying). As for Bachan jr...he for sure was looking like a cut

Mauli had good fun at Aryan's B'day. Thanks mom Radhika for the yum party.

Ashi, we miss you and are waiting to hear from you.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Bye Ashi..

Mauli’s bua Ashima is flown to the US this morning, her long time dream is accomplished. She always had that mettle in her, but failed to recognize it. She wanted to fly, but was never ready to open her wings, and when she did…she could fly. As I blog here, I can visualize her in the sky…flying. Congratulation dear….I will miss you!!!

Still high on patriotism as I hear Falak pakad ke utho aur hawa pagad ke chalo ( I think I caught the patriotic fever after anchoring a Republic day antakshari at Keane. It was great success and Sukant was really happy. (He is no guy next door but our very own MD). When a fellow at work Ipsita said...i was looking at you in surprise and I am really proud of you, that was it to make my day. Our team had a blast and walked away with prizes from Sukant. Wowo...

Friday, January 26, 2007

I Love My India!!!

Koi bhi desh perfect nahi hota, use behtar banana padta hai...RDB

Well that was rightly said. What I haven’t still understood is that is all this awakening that we witness a result of RDB, or is RDB a reflection of the same? Whatever it is, the country is rising, and it is all set to take the world in is stride. Even the modern day youth is just not a fat salary and parties, but yes there is an evident transformation and youth is ready to take charge. For sure we cannot ignore the role media is playing here. Films, literary works, sms contests, extensive news coverage, and concepts like indiapoised, india rising, citizen journalist are some of the initiatives that are there to ensure that the country is well informed and alert. Only this can lead to awakening and response, which we have for sure been witnessing from the recent past.

What better than music can move India. For all those who are proud to be an Indian and are swollen with pride every time an Indian is able to make a mark on the globe, do hear the anthem at

The generation is rising and is already on a march against corruption and injustice. I am with them…come...Join me.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Bad some good news

Abby is the Star of the Month at NIIT. A ‘Mentor’ and a 'Quality' freak is what the citation reads for this 4-month old at the company. Abby we are proud of you. (so bollywoodish!!!)

Having heard me a couple of times screaming like a typical Indian home maker at the doodhwala for the quality and quantity of milk, Mauli has decided to do the check himself. As the bhaiya pours doodh, he sits there and closely observes it. When done, he gets up and reacts...Momma theek hai. Another Quality freak?

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Thank God it was Saturday...

It was the chilling night of Saturday when mom dad, after attending a wedding at Essex Farms, were returning home to Sonipat (not to mention how much we told them not to). A truck driver, seemingly complying with his adrenaline rush banged into dads much-loved Wagon R from the rear side. The thud was loud and lifted the car to almost half a feet. Thankfully no one was hurt. The driver and his accomplice managed to get away within seconds as dad regained breath and senses. The highway police was of some help and so were some friendly neighbors who spotted dad in the middle of some chaos and offered help. Will ignore discussing the damage to the car here…that’s trivial.

Superstitious I am not, but yes agree to believe in God. As Abby (hey blog, let me introduce him as my younger brother, friend, philosopher, and at times a guide too) just decided to vanish from the marriage party and push to his abode at CR park, he spared the back seat and thus any victim of the accident. Thank God…

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Life is beautiful

Picturesque situation: Snuggle-in Saturday, waking up at 11, eating in the bed, a long walk in the evening followed by a latest bollywood flick. A relaxed Sunday comprising an afternoon of shopping jaunt…all this ends in a nice home cooked corn pasta and gajar ka halwa. What better cud life offer…a perfect weekend for the family…Mauli taking pleasure in each moment of that extra pampering from papa….ANU is what he fondly calls his papa. Touchwood.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

A day to cherish

My dream has landed. Descending from the distant land traversing through thick clouds, it is here. A dream that I never owned, but always cherished amorously in my eyes…aka my life. Had always wanted to look into the dream eye to eye, heart to heart, but it was always distant...not in heart but in distance. Dreams turn into reality…u never know, and then I may be able to meet my dream, hold it, and live it.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Confused- Me, Shilpa or the Janta

Shilpa Shetty seems to be as confused as I am. Yes, there are times when you really want to shoot the person you have an argument with. Thats how temper runs in our over stressed minds. But on second thoughts, it really feels like an outburst on both sides.

I hate people at times, so much so that feel like killing them. But the moment my temper sinks, the only thought is, "hey why did i have to do all that". Unfortunately for me, it is always my close ones who have to take all the wrath....and then a spurt of apologies follow.

Thankfully as i have not yet gained the celebrity status in life, people do not burn effigies and shout slogans, and neither does the parliament echo with empathies for me. God, why do people over react. Shilpa is a mature person and would have handled it as and how she would have pleased, but after quivering the British Parliament and causing traffic jams in Delhi, she meekly admitted that she did not mean that. So now are all the Shilpa fans burning her effigy or moving in search of another scapegoat… out for the next news bulletin.

Thursday, January 18, 2007


Ever since Maulik has happened, this urge to record and share every feeling has deepened. The deluge of emotions has produced a new me: intense and conscientious. His hands clasping me, his naughty eyes, those first words he uttered, the little things that flush my eyes…emotions et al!!! Always loved to talk...but never appreciated many listeners. Looks like asceticism is giving way to excitement and adventure…and I am here. Love me, hate me…you cannot ignore me.

Will miss you...always.

1977 - 2013 As I rubbed my fingers on your face, everything was numb. My fingers, your face, our heart beat, even my emotions for...