I have the 'quan'?! I do!!

Elvis Presley had his blue suede shoes, Jessica Simpson has her boots, Chris de Burgh had his lady in red, and I have the illusion of my too good to be true optical wear.. My latest materialistic appendage Im attached to at the hip.. yes currently Im 'bespectacled'..

So anyway Biyu n I got into this headlock about correction laser surgery to get rid of the dependence on my glasses.. The real reasons aside the more superficial yet heart rendering one is my relatively newly acquired tortoise shell frames.. It camouflages my dark circles.. I can come across as a all business no fun serious pole up the ass, and I can even play it down to look like a kid (minus the stress lines on the skin) in pigtails and wanna-be-grown-up glasses.. But yeah, theyre more than a remedy for lens handicaps of one of the most important senses.. They function as the best fashion accessory Ive ever owned.. Yet another advertising marketing personnel kindda spectacles that ami bemoans but ones that frame my face well.. It keeps all my features in perspective including my rather long nose and narrow cheekbones.. I can tie up my hair like a school marm and have my glasses on and still look reasonably passable.. I can drop Sol to school in pajamas on a bad day with my glasses on and pass off the look of an intellectual busy soccer mom.. I can have a bad skin n hair day but with the tortoise shell the glitches fade away.. Yes its my fixer upper.. It makes me happy just to have em on.. Leave aside the fact that it cures half my headaches away and puts it at bay.. Thus saving the bill for the umpteen crocins and tylenols I need to pump myself up with.. Although it does take away the excuse for coffee deprivation :(

Sooooo.. I watch a lot of movies.. I breathe food and eat movies.. And I am the happiest given the quotas of these two subjects for me are in satiated natures..

I had watched Zindaggi Rocks a long time ago.. Don't know if it found a way into something I blithered about earlier.. But yesterday it was running on the cable and I got Ami to watch it.. Of course the nerd that he is, he had to qualify his 'wastage of time' by checking the reviews so he was aware that it was a tragedy.. I fell in love with Sushmita Sen all over again.. That role was tailor made for her.. And theres this song - humko chhoonay paas.. Of course another one of my 'endearing' traits is to get obsessed with a song and have it on constant replay mode for say a whole buncha days, maybe even a couple of weeks.. Part of the aura that makes my intensity so extreme dude (Im camouflaging personality disorders into pretty words.. Im good with language cant you see).. So as Im writing this blog post Im listening to the song.. Such is the need to listen to it all times that I spent 2 hours wondering why I couldn't upload it on the phone and when I was sleeping I had it playing with headsets on.. No this isn't insanity.. This is called ' passion'.. And anyone who claims otherwise has a weak heart with no loyalties and true callings to one's own..

Whilst on the subject of creatures created to disrupt perfect harmony in a well organized life only to create chaos - kids, have I mentioned anywhere over here that I'm now the proud recipient of the miracle that God calls daughters.. I of course think I was the biggest pain in the arse for my folks.. But this angel seems so unlike me.. She stole my heart even when I had made up my mind I wouldn't let it get all crumbled into pieces again.. Im lost in my loyalties with Sol.. Can't help falling for her simple smile and gurgle whenever I pass her around and I look at Solly's face telling me that I haven't cuddled him into bed since so long, I haven't held him in my lap and hugged him for insane amounts of time, I haven't been this mother eternal version with him, I haven't kissed him till the two of us have tears rolling down our face.. But I want him to naturally understand at his tender age of 4 that he will always be my first love and he has my heart in his closed fist.. But he's a good kid nonetheless.. He keeps drooling on Kai like a puppy would at his new acquisition.. He has also become a fantastic cook for brownies.. He can even set the temperature with the minutes on the oven.. The women he dates better thank me..

And the man who dated, dined and wed me better thank the heavens that I missed *one* of my callings - architecture.. Else I'd have my hands in more pies than I do currently and that wouldn't be such a pretty picture for my paleolithic, neanderthal, old fashioned, child at heart husband.. But I do make it a point to now catch up on the latest in the field and try and amalgamate as much knowledge on the subject to make up for the lack of guts to keep up with algebra, trigonometry, calculus and some such.. Math is not my forte as would be obvious else the heart wouldn't be served on a platter each and every common stance occasion..

So while I do a mind boggling calculation on current events and status of them - I am relieved to say jet lag is slowly dissipating post beautiful vacation.. Im coming to terms being a 'housewife' but refuse to be addressed as anything but homemaker.. Im beginning to hate the 'occupation' part of official forms but I swallow the bitter pill slightly easily than I did earlier.. And Im beginning to contemplate new occupations.. The 'go to' person would be one such.. Which school, what forms, plus's minuses.. Which street, what crossing, which by lane, for ostrich leather custom made shoes.. etc etc.. Some place to put use to all this redundant info I have acquired and assimilated in my being caged in this city..

I watched Serendipity all over again.. Wasn't enough that I had watched a million times on TBS at first being subjugated to it unwillingly and then slowly falling in love with the manicorn - John Cusack- for every slight winch in his face.. For his disheveled hair and his long frame and gait.. I absolutely love the song - dont wanna love in vain - and Kate Beckinsale has the very same hair coloring that I desire.. And of course I wish I wrote and spoke like the charlie who is supposed to be the best friend, brother, first wife all in one.. Satire doesnt come easy and humor is a trait I better have left for those with thick rhino skin who can throw muck at themselves and still have a throaty laugh.. One of these days Im gonna pick it up too.. Just you wait and watch..

But anyway the writer in me is at a juncture where Im perplexed about a connect in a plot.. Is the protaganist more humiliated when asked to leave somebody else's haven for sanctity of peace.. Or is she more slighted when told to pay rent for her own home by family? Because at the end of the day the value of one emotion is described only by something better and worse to give it the rating of being on what end of the richter scale..

April - I await you breathlessly.. I cant wait for you to transport me home.. April - come soon, I need to breathe again.. April - I feel like a child owned and disowned.. April - render me unconscious..

I'll be back home now only in April 2009! :-(

Love letters

I'm not gonna be archaic and consider only inked letters on paper as love letters but something as inane as a post it or placard come under the BIG branch of love letters for me..

I'm a romantic at heart.. Forgive me if this is too sappy and lacks the usual doom of banishing the entire gamut of miscreants but love letters are all around us..

I finally finally FINALLY ended up watching the Sex & the City film a couple days ago.. Its how Sarah Jessica mentions the book of Love Letters from the Great Men of the world that got me thinking.. And finally much alike her inbox, the last love letter had an uncanny resemblance.. STOP - don't go any further and scroll right down to the end and begin bottom wards up.. Get a coffee, put on some Dean Martin, perch up your legs on a chair and let the flimsy breeze of a melancholy wind touch you and fly by..

I've been literally serenaded when I was oceans away.. daily although seemingly boring events laced with perfect comic timing were sent as quirky emails and a whole entire program written involving graphics when technology wasn't as easy to grasp as is today.. So much more prettier than your regular flowers and chocolates fanfare..

I've regaled colossal hours on end about miniscule details on long distance phone calls when there wasn't any competition in the telecom market and the both of us paying unsurmountable bills to compensate for not being able to 'date' in the same time zone..

There have been crazy dramatic sms's - some short, some long.. prolific but meaningful and some saved for over 9 years to the extent that I refuse to discard the phone lest I lose the phone on which I received the particular sms..

I've had an erratic frantic phone call in school when cell phones werent the adage of the day.. all because I felt highly perky and sent off a cheeky email pretending to be hurt.. And of course the caller again was some 10 states away from me..

I've had to gather and surmise from various sources said and unsaid things, reflections of my life aired out on national television, about a relationship that never took birth because neither of us thought the 'runaway bride' would finally give in..

I've always loved the particular Parker ink pen because its black ink scribbled in terse emotive small script across rammed notepad sheafs spelt the reason why this man would become the most pristine period of my life..

The most simplest thing like inscribing a book with just a few simple words took my breath away.. And this coming from the most verbose human on the planet (moi) seems a little strange..

An actual pen and paper letter to do all with aircrafts and the flying routine cos the man had no idea how to express himself except drawing parallels from the thrill of flying to our puppy love..

A card based on a cartoon character involving all facets of my life with the pre packaged hallmark of the bar code drawn on..

An actual poem from a brooder that I came across accidentally..

An ode on a public portal under veils lest identities collide..

A simple email - I miss you..

These signs of affection rehearse their effect like old wine and remain with me forever.. I simply have to draw on them to feel incapacitated like I feel right now..

With every thought begins a new story, and with every story there is an interjection, adjunction, conjunction, beginning and end.. I like to concentrate on the t-junction's.. "Frost: The road not taken" (ref: b - shaadi, 2003).. They make for interesting narratives which get labeled with the term - injunction.. The title being self explanatory, eluding to - for you a thousand times from The Kite Runner is the point from which I was rushing into a tangent..

But I'm misleading you.. This shpeel is about aught else.. Its about vee-hic-als.. Im a lay person.. I do not lay, nay, au contraire (damn with the tangents man!!! :( )

What I'm trying to say is Ami's birthday came and sped by recently.. My gift to him was going to be this bike.. Stripped to its bare engine (like Ranbir stripped to a low waisted hipster /peddle pusher in the Greece setting of Bachna ae haseeno *slurp* *lick*) and then remade and reworked to something unrecognizable.. My specs, my conditions and their engineering.. Much like the war show on travel&living about vintage versus modern day technology on the british biker build off.. I wanted to have made a droooooooool worthy bike for Ami.. It was gonna be a gift more so for me than him.. I love to watch people hop on to their bikes.. I think its ridiculous for people who dissipate into the crowd to ride a bike.. A bike requires a certain kindda personality to go with it.. There is a way you get on to a bike which is more like the first tenet every rider should follow.. The legs need to be posied just so and the leg that needs to drape itself across needs to go just at the right angle at the right momentum in the right frame.. It makes for a beautiful setting.. A moment a cinematographer ought to capture on canvas considering what a glorious moment it is to be at one in the most intimate way riding a machine.. Much like the way a person would hold their pistol or gun.. Its the most graceful thing to watch which is paradoxical considering the noises generated later.. Vinay Pathak can tittilate your mind but you need a Ranbir Kapoor with a slight hitch in enunciations to make getting on the bike look sexy.. I even observe the guys through the dripping monsoons.. I can't help but ogle at what seem like children in comparison to my ripe old age when I see them in their beauteous art ways.. And I imagine Sol in their place and an ageing woman in mine and I feel like slapping the woman leching at my child but ESHTILL!!! wah kya scene hai....

What's actually anda maraoing my bhains recently is - theres this stupid moronic asswipe who lives in my society.. Next building really who has a fleet of cars (well he has 3 AT LEAST).. In a city like Mumbai, he has a white Mercedes convertible, an Audi SUV in silvery gray and a Lexus 470 in champagne.. He makes my insides squirm.. Every morning when Elvis (aka me) has left the building, I have to witness his ostentatious glorifying his stouty rowdy old tired self and flaunting his (wait he has NOTHING to flaunt except for his cars which should ideally be MINE MINE MINE) nonexistence :( Now I don't know this guy from Adam's but believe you me, I hate him from the pits of my heart.. Like I've never known hatred before.. I thought of getting a Toyota Prado in white but he went and got a BMW SUV.. Oh how I loathe this human's existence.. Obese turd.. Be sure to read your headlines in the coming few days.. I have quite a mind to go give him my housewifely cheerful earful to stop flaunting his vee-hic-als in front of regular ole folk like me.. But my feelings toward him are quite unlike what I felt for the guy who I lost my heart to this evening.. He was driving the Boxster.. :( God must truly hate me for throwing the lust of cars in my face and then snatching them away without even dangling the keys in front of me!!

Anyway, a mere mortal such as I, got me a new phone and yes I'm being extremely self-indulgent but its a thing of beauty which I hope remains to be a joy for a very long time.. Keats was quite nuts if he thought anything and I do quite mean ANYthing could last forever.. However, the omnia currently is in my loving stage which seems like forever at least to my rosey eyed view..

But all these are vain and frivolous in comparison to my crush on a true blue chocolate boy for the first time.. He's not a brooder, not one of those silent, dark, weird concoctions of human notions.. He's a regular shmoe but yet - Milton's "Paradise Lost": "To love or not; in this we stand or fall".. Ranbir Kapoor you light up my insides when I see you on screen..

Polarities..

The punishment for incompetence should be decapitation.. Anything less than a full 100% (more would be better) is debilitating to the entire cause of the matter.. I can't stand imperfections.. One strand of almost not there hair left behind on a wax job.. One strand of gray not covered up, one corner of the wall not touched up in the fresh paint job, one line of plaster over the skirting, one strand of hair from the brush on freshly painted nails, one iota of excess salt in the food, one whoosh of liner went wrong (worse when black), one stone on the road that makes u feel the bump on an otherwise beautiful ride, one hospital corner on the bed folded wrong, one wrinkle on the perfect crisp white linen shirt, one wrinkle between the eyebrows growing in size, one vein showing on your feet indicative of .... , one line of dust on the exhaust in the sparkling bathroom, one drop too much of the citronella oil in the burner, one color too much on the boheme kindda clothes, its all a matter of just that one that irates me deeply..

My son takes after me and every toy has to be placed in the same exact spot in the same angle manner fashion it was before he took it out.. his clothes need to be dust free and smelling fresh off the *press* (ironing is called pressing out here.. go figure?!) even for his birthday party, with the animal show where he held a rabbit - instead of having a smile on his face he had a big old frown and demanded a hand sanitizer immediately.. the tray needs to be laid out just so for his food consumption.. his milk in just that nike bottle.. his water in his paddington bear glass.. and nothing else will do.. and god forbid its unavailable - the whole house collapses in fear of his tears and fury.. Yes my son is an ideal reflection of me..

My daughter needs her juice heated evenly just like her milk before consumption.. She hates her fruit so I have to trick her into juice.. She loves anything with cheese so I add carrots to her cauliflower n broccoli cheese mash, squash n sweet corn to her mac n cheese.. Yes she has her own mind and taste buds at 6 months.. She loves my lime n honey concoction in the morning and recognises my travel mug and demands at least 10 sips from it.. She'll be fine with most people who she is familiar with but if I disappear for longer than 2 hrs then hell freezes over..

Yes we all have our little quirks.. I have yet to learn to live with mine.. But I will always be proud of my kids characteristic traits because of their quirks.. I admire them for their strong sensibilities and I hope they turn out "weird" and "quirky" in their own ways but please God do not make them 'normal' and mundane.. Anything normal is forgetful, anything mundane is what everyone else is and within the societal norms I hope my kids turn out to be difficult pills to swallow because God forbid they fade away into oblivion - that would be my biggest disappointment.. I would rather them be the one hay in the grassland than be a fresh sprig of mint in the herb garden..

Scent of a woman

sorry for the delay..

please listen to me and listen carefully..

this is on a public platform because post conversing with ami about the people we knew this seemed to be a common thing.. but even he was rooting mostly for you in the end and i do really want to send this as a message to the rest who are like sisters to me whose grief i feel as well..

im keeping all my biases aside and saying this purely keeping all the factoids in mind..

you need to disconnect him from your life.. its not been a symbiotic relationship for a long time but really, lets face it, it has been parasitic.. you need to cut off the limbs that are disparaging to the rest of your working body and draining away the energy.. its a hard pill to swallow and a much worser decision to make but it needs to be done cos 7,8,9 years is a long time to dedicate to a dead relationship.. mourn for the loss, dont grieve.. celebrate your existence.. you have to demonstrate to the one depending on you that things dont always need to come in pre-packaged pretty forms.. remember the strength that was once you and it will all become easier.. leave your benevolence and calm aside.. thats what has been detrimental in your case because time has elapsed and your eyes are only opening now.. dont waste one more minute of on more day for your freedom to be you.. and then it is all que se ra se ra.. there was surry.. there will be another who is mad about you.. you the way you are not the crap they want to dole you out to be.. i want to see the fierceness in you again.. the silent angst and the wicked determination that sets you apart even in the nyc crowd of well heeled manicured fingernails and toes..

i am always there.. my home is always open.. take a breather, lets chill with coffee, and let kai's baby warmth innocent smile and smell rejuvenate you.. pick up your belongings from here rightfully and start all over.. you have immense support from people who are loyal to you..

if not anything you can always sing - stand by me and garner support :)

please remember - i will always love you..

Kahin to hogi ho - Jaane Tu

There are no easy lunches.. You have to, absolutely must take a stand on matters close to your life and heart.. I despise the spineless morons who classify their incompetence in standing up for themselves as 'vagaries'.. How dare they insult the very characteristic by which I, the highly opinionated ass but vociferous enough to state them, identify myself with..

You need to take a stand on right and wrong.. There are grays (in other people's books) but how the hell do you classify everything in the 'gray category'.. That's just wrong.. When you put your heart on your sleeve and see it burn it hurts.. Like hell too at that.. Whats so gray about that? When someone crosses the boundary and infringes on your space it irks you.. Sometimes devastatingly so depending on circumstant.. Where the hell do you see the gray in that? When the basics in life are outta whack and are volleyed up in the air because of aught else doesn't that break you down? Don't you need to take a stand on that? How long do you need to stand behind pillars calling them your strength when instead all they are, are these autocrats who treat you like an automaton? Where the hell as the adage gone - Live and let live? When you feel strangulated don't you choke for air? Doesn't that unnerve you into reacting?

But you need strength in character to take a stand.. No matter whether it makes sense to the world now as long as you are lucid about your ideology and approach you need to stand by them.. Look at Aamir on Narmada.. I re-felt my delinking of kinship to Arundhati Roy after reading it all over again in the latest issue of Andpersand.. How dare she.. Look at Pooja & Mahesh Bhatt - I don't care about the way they conduct their lives - but their common stance approach on drugs and alcohol simply puts them on an elevated status of intellecte.. That too the way they can say it out loud in a public forum.. At least it made some people realize the importance of how they are on the path of self-destruction at least for a minute if not more..

I recently got into an argument on ego and self-pride.. Self-preservation stems from the self-pride being under assault.. How can you get away by calling it something as frivolous as ego? Yes ego creeps in where many learned take themselves for granted and falter.. But how can a person - a person who is so absorbed in the daily rituals to even realize what survival involves indulge in a time-taking sport such as 'ego'?


It takes a million goons to go thru natality and fatality for one Oscar Wilde to be borne.. My utopia would be a world full of people with strength in character to at least have the testes to take a stand.. I know I have enough testosterone to take a stand when pushed hard enough..

I really wonder about the other billion on the planet though..

Saturday Night Fever

I LOVE Saturdays.. They rejuvenate me.. Fridays can go take a you know what to the moon; but Saturdays - now THAT 's what I am talking about.. Songs like Here I am (Bryan Adams) Whats love gotta do with it (Tina Turner) etc etc are played on the radio as a relief for the same 20 songs being churned in & out on weekdays and they simply peel years off of my body.. I feel like I'm in my zone know what I mean? I'm moving, I'm grooving, I'm peppy, not trying to put someone in their place, not pickin a fight with all n sundry, just minding my good old business (which is extremely rare and strange if you know me personally) and pacing my day along.. Sol has his extra curriculars at regular hours where I can enjoy retail therapy with Kai and then we go for soccer practice where I yell and scream my lungs out cheering and motivating my son.. Yes indeedy - I live my life through them..

I have a sweet tooth.. I love black coffee.. You will always find a freshly made sweet mart at home.. My husband and his palette along with his tummy indulge me and my culinary functions and malfunctions.. My son has started appreciating the fine art of loving and eating fenugreek leaves to be compensated with gajar ka halwa.. Yes, I have at least one man of mine wrapped around my pinky.. The other one is still a work in progress.. Wanna venture a guess on who which one is?

We saw 'Jaane tu...' recently.. What a beautiful feel good movie.. The songs, the characters, the actors, the sets.. Seemed so real.. Its almost as if I was reading Jhumpa Lahiri with her fascinating penmanship taking you into her worlds where you can even smell the broth in the kitchen of the character who is nurturing it to perfection.. I could relate to and feel the same pathos that the protagonist was going through and the similar angst as each reel traversed into another.. Really though, quite a well-made movie..

But tomorrow is a Sunday and I intend to treat myself to a good dose of romantic comedies so I'm gonna pay a visit to You got mail, Story of us, Thomas Crowne Affair etc.. I suggest you guys do the same.. We all need a good dose of romance and an equally surmountable amount of humor in our lives..

Back to mirchi pakoday and makai roasting this is the at-peace-with-the-world-at-large me signing off..

earlybirditude

We all have morning rituals.. well if you are one of those night owls I'm sure you do maintain some kind of rituals that are dictum's for each day.. I have my own very set which I'd like to share.. And whilst I'm sharing lemme also redirect you to - http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=earlybirditude

It's an early morning with Kai welcoming me into the dawn at 5 am and she makes me realize that I don't have to be the best person at the craft of motherhood but I just have to be a mom.. I see vignettes of her through the day when she has her first 5 ounces for the day.. Little moments where she reaches out for me with her open arms and flashes a smile trying to flirt me into being close to her.. Her sorrowful eyes and her slow frown developing into a helpless cry for me to attend to her amidst all the people she can't call home.. She is my baby whom I thought I wouldn't be able to love cos my heart was so full of Sol.. I thought I had no room for anyone else but with the advent of her coming in to my life I find myself resurrected.. Its going to be hell for me to raise a girl.. I can now sense the fears and angst my parents were ridden with but I know she will make the ride worth living..

Then the clock strikes 6 and its time for me to gather my energies because the preparation for the day begins.. Silly needs to be up by 6:30 and it takes me 10 minutes of cuddling and coddling.. I thank the Lord he still needs it.. Im not a sadist but I almost miss the days when I first put him in a playschool.. I would cry out on the stairs of the playschool hearing him wail and thats how we spent an hour everyday for a few months.. My children are my biggest strength and biggest handicap.. and its so visible when my son who's inherited my drama queen ways fusses over not getting 'Maggi noodles' in his lunchbox for school..

At 6:45 I rush in for a quick shower to erase the signs of burps and kiddie drool.. And I glare into the mirror at my age reflecting so many years on my face and body.. Don't get me wrong I enjoy them too.. Each scar, line, wrinkle, layer of fat is demonstration of me graduating to this age and time.. They are my trophies to myself..

At 7 I get into the kitchen and hurry with the cook at breakfast for the family and packing Kai's hot water and milk bottles for the ride to school and back.. Despite the help at home, inevitably 7:30 and no earlier is when 'Elvis has left the building'.. My morning cup of tea neatly stowed in my mug (which was quite a difficult task to excel in) and the morning newspaper supplements well towed in the crutch of my arm.. I cannot read the main sections of the paper.. I can't deal with reality.. I rather much read the gossip columns and the lives that others lead.. And its not about having a thing for celebrities.. my favorite thing to do when I have a couple of minutes is to randomly hit a blog and peep into aught else's life..

Through the journey to school Sol is lying on me and I can smell his freshly washed hair and I feel like letting him skip the day at school only so that I can get back into bed and snuggle with him (which is what I plan to do as soon as I'm done with this entry) but sense prevails and we practice the cat, rat and mat bits..

The journey back - I and Kai either have a morning catnap or we read the paper together.. Well she'd rather have that too in her mouth but oh well :-) But inevitably we both bob our heads into the outside world when we cross this building where this gramps like guy sits out in his airy balcony and reads his morning papers.. A moments lapsed and we spot the elderly lady who is huffing and puffing her way onto the ledge at the entrance of another building.. Her morning walk seems strenuous everyday.. I curse the coffee houses through the entire journey cos my craving for mocha can never be satiated.. Even my eyes desire the whiff of coffee.. The most pleasing smell to me in the whole world is of freshly roasted coffee beans and the most refreshing taste is of garlic.. Go figure..

But thats what a glimpse of my morning's like.. Whats yours?