Metamorphosis (Part III)

" When I saw you over there,

I didn't mean to stare,

But my mind was everywhere,

I wanna know you "

She was amazed at how she could listen to his constant rambling and instead of getting bored, crave for more. They filled their plates with food and walked towards the pool, him still going on about his last anatomy class.

Smiling to herself at his excitement, she listened on.

"Arrey, it got so bad we had to give that guy an enema."

'Stop stop! I so dont want to know the end of that story'

"Arrey but listen no, it's super funny how this ends"

' You had your hand up someone's bum. I can't imagine how it could possibly end in a good story', she giggled

"You have a really cute smile, did you know"

'Typical boy I tell you. Chote se gap mein marofying chance'

"Arey no baba, just appreciating good anatomy"

The live band was playing some old classics.However fun the new techno-beat-electronic mish mash that today's music was, there was nothing that could beat the golden oldies, she thought. As if on que, he started humming.

It seemed like a scene right out of those silly romantic comedies- moonlight night, perfect music, wedding set, the female lead with a slightly obnoxious quirky comic who turns into a charming hero by the end of the movie.

'Gosh!', she said out loud as she touched her emerald earrings.

“What happened? Is my singing that bad, yaar”

‘Tell me one thing, where did you become up this “yaar-yaar” business from?’

“Delhi slang, it catches on eventually. Just like you Southies use ‘da’ for everything.”

‘Ok, first, “you southies”? Where do you think you come from?’ she said as she rose, ‘and second, I, the southie was raised in Delhi for 10 years. To be specific, my formative years were spent in Delhi. Neither do I use ‘yaar’, nor ‘da’ ‘

“Arey yaar, I think there is a problem with your nose”

‘Eh?’

“Anger resides on the very tip of your nose, one tiny spark of and BOOM. You girls I tell you. Oops no no, no genaraliing girls either or you will stab my other foot with your 4 inch heel. Come, now pull me up, let’s go for desert’, he stretched his hand out.

‘Delhi boys can get up on their own yaar’, she giggled as she walked away

She’d reached the serving table before she turned around, but he wasn’t there. She looked around for that familiar face, but there was no sign of him.

“Naina”. It was her mother. “Shall we leave?”

‘Sure ma, let me just check on something.’ She walked back towards the pool. Still no sign of him. Maybe she had been a little too rude. She rushed back to her mother, still browsing through the crowd to catch a glimpse of Rithwik.

“Aint no sunshine when she’s gone..”

She looked out of the car at the canopy of lights one last time and that is when she had realised that she had dropped her earring.

It's all about the price tag

We live in a world where what you wear defines you more than what you do...
What you drive matters more than where you are heading...
Where you eat matters more than whom you have fed..

Perhaps it's the new age arrogance, but it wasn't a sudden churn.  Every 'age' saw it's bit of change and that's how we are where we are today.. Wherever it is that we are....!

 It all started with a simple man's wish to lead a better life, have a little extra to buy himself some comfort.

"All I want is a room somewhere
Far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?"

And there he sat with his dreamy eyes, leaning over his desk,  thinking of a perfect world where he'd have that extra bit to get his lady a nice dinner.
But then one day he looked over his shoulder. And there he saw a fat man with a flashy Rolex and a girl on either arms.
Suddenly his perfect world with a 'just a  little more' seemed insignificant.
Who wanted a simple glass of hot chocolate and a a warm fire to make one feel cozy when you could wish for a tall glass of champagne and buy the company of exotic escorts.
 
Enamored by the sight he saw, he changed his mind. -from a simple wish of having a little more to spend, he now wanted a lot extra, to splurge.It was no longer about what he really needed, but about what he could have

"Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world"

 But how could he get there, he was a simple man from a simple background. He wasn't born to Kings and Queens. He was the middle class. There were tales of hardwork pushing you up the ladder of success. But it would take him forever to get there. Would he survive the slow climb? How long would it take him to get to the top? What was the guarantee that everytime he took two steps forward, someone wouldn't push him one step back? He was the middle class after all. He was so accustomed to have his toes stepped on that he expected it.
He knew there was no straight way to get to where he wanted to be.
Like everything in the world that time, he wanted his share of the fame and glory instantly. What would it take to get there faster? He was willing for anything.

"Lie for it
Spy for it
Kill for it
Die for it

So you call it trust
But I say it's just
In the devil's game
Of greed and lust"

Even if it meant selling your soul to the devil himself, our man was ready to do so. For he was too blinded by the gleam of the gold that he didn't see where he was headed. H e was so intoxicated by  the smell of fresh notes to know what he was doing. Everyone around him was his competition, and he had to get above them all. He now knew how to climb that mystical ladder faster- all he had to do was step on a back every now and then. Even if it meant losing out on ones he loved.

"If you show me the cash
Then I will take it
If you tell me to cry
Then I will fake it
If you give me a hand
Then I will shake it
You do anything for money"

But how did it matter. After all everything in the world could be bought.He didn't need to be born  to royalty anymore to have people bowing to him. He could buy their loyalty. What if ones he loved wouldn't look at him anymore, he would replace them with gold statues. He had it all.. Or did he?

Was perhaps just a glass of hot chocolate really what he wanted. Was the laughter of his lady more dear to him than the cha-ching of his cash registrar?

What DID he have around him now apart from the shine of diamonds and the glint of gold.

What was a stone in comparison to tender words of love. What was a hard metal of any value for when you needed a soft shoulder to lean on.

He had it all, yet he had nothing, for in his race to fame, not only had he lost himself but also left behind what really mattered.

"Why is everybody so obsessed?
Money can't buy us happiness
Can we all slow down and enjoy right now
Guarantee we'll be feelin' alright

We'll pay them with love tonight"

Metamorphosis (Part II)

The car turned into the gate; she stared at the shimmering canopy of lights. She could hear the loud thumping music at a distance and feel the festive joy in the air. She did NOT want to be there. She was all dressed up in her green salwar, an emerald choker around her neck. She pushed her hair off her brow and tucked it behind her ear and touched the emerald earrings that adorned them- her grandmother's.

The car came to a halt in front of a huge archway made of white roses. She stepped out into this temporary phase of razzle-dazzle, dreading every minute of the fake smiles and hugs and the meaningless small talk that was to ensue. The music got louder with every step that she took, she took a deep breath and kept walking..

She stepped on the stage with her mother, to go and wish the bride and groom and stood for the customary picture when suddenly a laugh distracted her. She looked to see where the sound had come from and that is when she saw him. Dressed in a white kurta, with the sleeves rolled up, hands in his pocket, talking to an elderly woman and charming her with his dimpled smile. She wondered who he was. 'Thank you!', the photographer called out. She hugged the bride again and followed her mother off the stage.

Having unwillingly completed the ordeal of exchanging the usual pleasantries, she excused herself and walked out of the hall, away from the high-pitched laughter, away from those ridiculous air-kisses and away from the plastic smiles. The sound of the sea was something she had always loved, she listened intently ignoring the din from the party. She spotted a vacant swing and decided to sit there a while. The salty breeze blew gently on her face as she dug her feet deeper into the sand. She finally felt real again.

Her eyes fixed on the full moon above, she started humming a tune that had been stuck in her head all evenings. Gently swinging back and forth, she thought of the summers she had spent at her grandparent's place, trying out dare devil feats on the swing by the mango tree. Such a long time ago that seemed like.

"Hey"

Naina snapped back into reality.

"Aren't you a little old to be on the swing?"

She frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't know there was an age limit", she said sarcastically as she slipped her shoes back on.

"Ha ha ha oh god, I was just kidding you know."

"Never mind, I had to go anyway". She adjusted her drape and looked up.

Her skin, glowing under the moonlight and the breeze moving through her hair, her surreal beauty left him speechless.She turned around to walk away, back towards the party.

"Hey hey I'm sorry, did you take offence?"

She turned back, " Don't worry about it."

He raced up ahead of her. "Oi, listen, I was kidding yaar."

Naina smiled. "I know. And it's ok. Yaar."

"Those are really pretty earrings by the way."

"Thanks."

"Ummm I'm Rithvik."

"Nice meeting you Rithvik."

She walked away, and he watched on, listening to the clinking of her bangles. He slapped the back of his head. "Douchebag," he said to himself.

Her mom was still busy talking when she stepped back into the hall, she decided to just show her face and walk away before she got stuck in the pretencious talk again. All the 'kids' her age were on the dance floor  in the basement. She decided to go have a look, atleast that would be better than listening to old ladies gossip. Soon she was also swaying and shaking to the latest 'bollywood' songs with a group of girls her age whom she had just befriended.Jumping and dancing to the beats, she let her dislike for her dad's family go. She was finally having fun.

"Sajna ji vaari vaari....."

"Ow!"

"I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to do that".

She had stepped on someone's foot, she looked up to see who it was.

"Haha, no worries yaar. My punishment for the earlier comment."

" I really am very sorry, are you ok?"

"Well, you're wearing what looks like a 4 inch long pencil heel, what do you think?", he pointed at his toes and wiggled them.

Naina smiled.

"Why did you stop? Dance no", he pulled her hand and dragged her into the crowd again.

He was studying to be a doctor,he loved his bike and his two dogs and he would not shut up. She laughed at his silly stories as they continued dancing. She'd forgotten when she had had so much fun.

Metamorphosis (Part I)

The rolling of the sea waves is said to be one of the most relaxing sounds, and yet every time a wave hits the sandy shore, it echoes voices from the past. With every receding wave, I seem to be pulled into the dark closet of memories. They say when you look at a full moon, you see the face of the one you love and yet somehow no matter how much i gaze, the moon too disappoints me.. Even mother nature seems to be punishing me for the change..

As I walk across the study to replace a book, i glance at the reflection in the mirror. The silver grey strands that fell over her shoulders and unto her knees. The once bronze toned skin which shone in the summer sun, now pale, translucent and almost lifeless. Her oval face now lined with wrinkles hardly resembled the face that had made hundreds of men catch their breath. Those ruby lips now thin trembling lines, and lost, sorrowful hazel eyes..

I almost gasped when I saw her in the mirror, I stepped closer to the ivory frame to have a closer look at the reflection..

A pale trembling hand stretching out to me,I looked up, our eyes met..

I-Spy

I open the door to fetch the paper in the morning and i notice that they're already there.. As usual, sitting in the corner near the staircase. They look up when they see me and fall silent. I interrupted their gossiping session yet again..They continue giving me those hostile stares until i walk away..Thats just the first encounter for the day...

There're always snooping around.. no matter where i go, they're always there.. it is as though they're spying on me.. it's stupid i try telling myself.. or is it now??

I get done with breakfast and get ready to leave.. Drawing the curtains in the hall i look outside to see if my friend has come, and i see them again.. Peering from the open window.. Their eyes meet mine and they quickly move away.. One of them turns back to check if i'm still looking.. I am.. they move more quickly..

They're most definitely up to something i think but my phone buzzes just in time and i leave..

X****************************************************X

I've had a long day and the last thing i want is a pesky spy.. I look around.. not a sight of them Whew..

Maybe i'll go for a drive to the beach. I walk towards the car and there they are. A satisfied smirk on their face. Their job is done. Ugh!

I drive away quickly before they can do anything else.. A nice drive ought to relax me..

X****************************************************X

Ah! the sound of the sea, how peaceful, unlike their constant murmurs.. I pick up food and head home hoping i don't have to see them again at least for the day..

I park the car.. Not sign of them.. I walk up the stairs.. Not the slightest whimper..

I open the door and step in.. AH!! peace!!

I leave the food packet on the table and walk in to my room.. I feel something move behind me. I turn quickly.. Noone..

I shut the door and pull a shirt out of my cupboard.. I hear a murmur.. I step back into the dinning room and quickly turn the lights on.. i notice the open window.. Too late!! They're taken by surprise and come flying at me..

X****************************************************X

The door bell rings, i open the door. My mother's jaw drops when she sees the ransacked room..

"WHAT on earth happened here?"

" We had visitors", i shrug and point to the window.

"OH GOD!!! The pigeons again!!"

Habit!

Ever wondered how many people one meets in one's life? And I mean meet.. like exchanging at least two lines of conversation..

Let's assume I've met 2 new people everyday.. So thats 2 x 365 people in a year..

So in all my life, it should be 20 x 365 x 2 people..

ok ok i know i haven't taken into account leap years, but it's not a mathematical theory that i'm trying to prove here..

What i'm saying is, each one of us happen to meet so many people everyday. But how many of these people do you continue to talk to after that first meeting? How many of them stick on and make a mark in your life? How many of them become a habit?

I've waited all this time

Counting minutes as they pass

Searching for a sign

Wishing for the best

And just when my hopes were wearing thin

You turned my heart to love again

Like a miracle out of the blue

You rescued me like the angels do

You shook the heavens and cracked the sky

When you walked...when you walked into my life

When you appeared

Like sight to the blind

Like music to my ears

Like a reason to a rhyme

And just when I thought my chance was gone

Love came to me with open arms

You search all your life looking for the perfect one, and when you least expect it, they walk into your life and turn your world around..

And hey, it's not just the 'arrow pierces heart' kind of love that i'm talking about here, I mean friends too..

People whom you may have known for quite a while, but never been close to (because of your notions of what you want in a friend) are the ones who end up being closest to for a long long time..

You start seeing things differently, start enjoying every ounce of life and well, 'welcome love with open arms'

Slowly, without you even realizing, they become a part of your routine and going a day without speaking to them just feels so excruciatingly painful!!! Gah!!

I could be a total cliche and say ' I don't have words to pen down how much i love you and how much you mean to me'. But that just isn't me. I believe that man invented language to satisfy his deep need to complain. And that's exactly what i intend to do.. COMPLAIN!!!

I'll come clean, shed my ego and honestly tell you that my day seems incomplete without you.

It feels odd not to see your name flash on my phone at least once everyday. Your stupid smile flashes in front of my eyes, and i miss hearing that familiar voice..

I know I keep pushing you away, but it's only so that you hold me closer.. Ever so often i stay silent when we speak, it's not because i have nothing to say to you, it's because i want you to understand the unsaid.

I'm not the most expressive person on the planet, and i don't say it often enough, but you mean the world to me!

I know people move, times change, but that doesn't mean we should.. and no matter where we are, i want the bond between us to always stay the same..

I can't go any further then this

I want you so badly, it's my biggest wish

I spent my time just thinkin thinkin thinkin bout you

Every single day yes, i'm really missin' missin' you

And all those things we use to use to use to do

Meet me halfway, right at the boarderline

That's where i'm gonna wait, for you

I'll be lookin out, night n'day

Took my heart to the limit, and this is where i'll stay

I'll travel round the world and even sail the seven seas

Across the universe I'll go to other galexies

Just tell me where you want, just tell me where you wanna to meet

I'll navigate myself myself to take me where you'll be

I wanna to have you around like every single day

I love you always..way

(Sigh!!! It does feel good to vent out.. Come Back Already you 'royal' pain.. I Miss you)

We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.

They look at me and they know I'm different, they know I'm not one of them and perhaps i never will be..

They love the sun and welcome it with open arms, i cringe away from the blazing sol.. They bring out their silly little umbrella's when the heaven's roar, while i come out from behind the shadows and acknowledge the deluge and 'bask' in the flurry..

They seem to be ignorant to that 'scent'.. That scent that exudes from their skin, from every molecule that makes them, that scent that flows in them and with them, while I can smell it from miles away.. Every time that pungent odour hits me, i feel like 'going for their throat'...

They fumble while carrying the lightest of bags and stare at me as i stride past them with my 30 kg backpack without flinching even once.. They comment about my strength.. Little do they know..

They stare as my eyes glisten in the light, the shade of a smoked topaz perhaps.. They check in the mirror at their own..

They loudly slurp down fish and rice, and wait for me to do the same.. I get quizzical looks as i push my plate away.. Little do they know about my own 'special little diet'

They observe my strong jaw line as compared to their round faces.. My long fingers as compared to their short stumpy appendages.. My sharp distinct features as compared to their stereotypes.. They know i do not belong in their world..

I hear their constant buzzing, somethings they say, some things they don't and i still hear.. I laugh at their 'loud thoughts' and they stare at me again.. Looking at my teeth that are framed by my scarlet lips, they gasp as the light twinkles off the tip of my canines..

They wonder who i am.. They wonder why i'm different..

They look, they stare,

to themselves my features they compare..

They think, they ponder

and still look back with wonder..

they'll never solve the mystery that is me..

I am neither good, nor bad, neither angel nor devil, I am a man, I am a vampire.

(Ok ok i'm not a vampire, but i do feel like one with the weird looks i get every time i'm back 'home'.. I don't look like them, neither do i speak like them and this irritates them... They keep trying to figure me out as i switch my speech from one language to the other, from one accent to the next.. I can't stand eating fish and i'm not a big fan of rice, but what i do like is confusing those several people who stare at me and wonder where i came from, Being an enigma can be fun..Being a fraud mallu can be fun )

The penn pens down her puns! (Part 1)

I just realized how much i like penning down my thoughts and now that i'm quite literally 'penning' it down, it makes for a good pun.

Now now, don't get frightened by the title and the opening sentence. No matter how 'punny' i might be, i don't intend to make your eyes and ears bleed (or lets atleast hope not)

Talking about making ears bleed, you know why i luvvv ( emphasis on the 'v'.. this is a new obsession i picked up from someone) travelling?? OK, there are a LOT of reasons, but one of them is the amazing conversations that you get to overhear. Some you may directly be a part of, some you over hear.

I'm more of a silent observer so i end up hearing more 'interesting' conversations than being a part of them. Come now, don't give me that eye-roll and brand me as an eavesdropper. You can't blame me if people around me decide to speak really loudly in languages i'm familiar with can you ;)

It's as if fate wants me to document these guffaw worthy conversations.. and thats exactly what i intend to do..

(In an hilariously interesting order, here goes)

#1 You're my honey-bunch, sugarplum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin!

Everyone has their first crush at a different age.. I've seen my friends go gaga over Hrithik Roshan post 'Kaho Na Pyaar Hai' ( and that was like nearly 10 years back). I've seen my friends write 'love letters' out to a guy in my class as early as the 3rd standard.. And i've even heard of some friends having an innocent crush on their kindergarten teachers.. Me? well i had my first crush just a few months back.. Yes, i AM romantically challenged..

So this was a conversation i heard on a bus from the Kochi to Guruvayur, between the teo 'young ladies' who were sittinng in front of me. Now before i start with their actual conversation, let me describe them for you..

The first one, lets call her Riya was all of 4 feet. Dressed in denim capris teamed with a white shirt with Hannah Montana's face on it, she sure was in touch with the current fashion for an 8 year old.

Her friend/ cousin, who looked slightly older, lets call her Priya looked far more simpler than our uber modern Riya unless ofcourse you were more observant. Priya had obviously sneaked into her mother's vanity case and had tried on some blue eyeshadow (to go with her outfit ofcourse) and had a different nail color on every nail.. Which brings us back to our conversation..

Riya: You're wearing eye-shadow va?

Priya: Ammaam, first i thought i'd wear my new green dress but my green eyeshadow is over, so i thought i'd wear blue itself.

Riya: Cha! so lucky you are, my amma doesn't let me touch her makeup. But why are you wearing different colored nail polish on each finger?

Priya: It's couture!!

Riya: Oh couture is a new brand uh? i wear only lakme

Priya: No No. Couture means 'Style'

Riya: oh apdiya? But if i wear like this and all, my boy friend won't like it.

*Deepti falls of her seat*

Priya: What?? you have a boy friend uh??

Riya: Ya, this is my third boyfriend.. Why? You don't have uh??

Priya: Ofcourse i have * VERY defensive tone* but i'm fighting with him now.. um.. so what's your boy friend's name?

Riya: His name is Swaadhistan, but i call him Swadoo *blush*

*Deepti thinks she's going to puke*

Priya: oh oh ok.. So you love him uh?

Riya: Ya ya.. look *points at plastic 'tweety' ring* He gave me this.

Priya: That's cute, but my boy friend gives me real jewelry *points at her chain which has heart locket on it* MY boyfriend gave me this for my birthday.

*Deepti searches for hard object to bang her head against*

Riya: Do you think you'll marry your boyfriend?

Priya: Let's see ya.. right now i'm having a fight with him because i saw him holding hands with his ex.. she sits in the bench next to his, so they get to talk during classes also. I've to sit in the front row cos of my height.. If they get back together, then that's all

* Deepti decides to jump off bus, but thankfully Riya's mom comes to check on them and the girls hush up*

Ah! young love, so naive, so immature, so .. so.. so.. BARF-WORTHY!!

#2 Love love me do.. How do i propose, if only i knew..

This i heard in the waiting lounge at the Kochin airport. There's this thing about Mallus.. they talk a lot.. and i mean, a LOT!! and they don't mind being overheard, infact sometimes they want to be.

So there i was, looking as Maru as possible with all my shiny bling and mehendi adorned hands (hey, I had an engagement to attend), one out of the three occupants of the lounge.. The other two, were these two mallus, airport helpers,lets call them meesai1 and meesai2

(the convo which was originally in mallu has been translated, not cos yu don't know mallu but cos i don't know mallu pronunciations :P)

Messai 1: Dude, look at that north-indian sitting there.. looks our age only..

Messai2: huh? hmm..

Messai1: What's with you dude? Things bad with shajeena?

Messai2: hmm..No.. thing is, things are getting serious.

Messai1: Serious? what're you talking bout bro?

Messai2 * pulls out a ring* i'm thinking of proposing to her

Messai1: WOAH!!!

Messai2: Thats all you're gonna say?

Messai1: Well what else did yu expect me to.. its suicide dude

Messai2: But i really love her.. tell me.. how do i propose

Messai1: Get down on your knees and shove the ring in her face... If she says NO, run for it before she changes her mind, if she says yes, jump from the nearest building.

Messai2: NOT funny!

Messai1: OK, hmm whats her favourite flower?

Messai2: I don't know

Messai1: OK, whats her favourite chocolate?

Messai2: I don't know

Messai1: What DO yu know bout her?

Messai 2: that i'm in love with her.. * laughs*

Messai 1: oh please.. ok where did yu meet her for the first time?

Messai2 : On a bus.

Messai1: That's it then

Messai2: What's it.

Messai1; ask her out on a bus.

Messai2: er? on a bus??

Messai1: yea dude.. when she passes money for the ticket, pass her a ring back with the ticket

Messai2: if i'm with her, why wud i make her buy the ticket?

Messai1: OK, make the conductor give her the ring.

Messai2: Then she'll think the conductor is proposing to her.

Messai1: Point.. Take her on a long bus trip and get her groundnuts

Messai2: How will that help?

Messai1: Shove the ring into her cone of groundnuts..

Unfortunately, that is when i had to leave.. So i'm still wondering how that guy asked his girlfriend out.. I mean i've heard of many a 'nutty' proposal, but this sure beats them all.. ;P

The 'Saal Ka Last With a Blast' Series

Most people are known to take resolutions in the new year, ( and give it up two weeks into the year) but I'm thinking, why not change traditions a bit??

I mean when you give up your traditions so early in the year you're loomed with a sense of guilt (for a while at least), so why not adopt a technique where you can try something new, and give it up before you get bored of it..

Presenting, the 'Saal ka last with a Blast' plan..

Well, every year you start off with ambitious dreams of what you want that year to be like and you'd have barely done anything on this list of yours by the end of the year.. I know that's true for me.. For instance, i wanted to start swimming again this year..( I went for precisely one week, caught a cold and gave up).

I wanted to bell the CAT this year (hehehehe hahahaha hohohohoh.. OK I'm not even gonna start on that)

I wanted to make more time for my friends( Considering i haven't met my best friend who lives like 3 kilometers away in over 2 months, THAT resolution clearly didn't happen)

But but but, the saal ka last with a blast ( phew it's a task to type that every time, let's just call it sklwab) is not about reminiscing(?!) the past, but kicking ass in the future..

So here's the plan, there's a week to new years and I'm gonna squeeze in as much of my resolutions into this one week..

Starting with writing more often ( considering i might have to disappear to mallu land where the Internet is slower than a pregnant snail, this might be tough. But i can always write out posts the old school way and publish online later.. muahahaha that way, i can even cheat :P )

Get back to swimming ( THIS is VERY achievable..yay!! )

Read all the books I'd picked up this year.

Staying connected with my friends ( errrr again a toughie since i wont be in town.. but the three days to new years are full on dedicated to them)

And the list probably goes on and on and on.. i mean after all it's not just for new years that we make resolutions..

So there it is.. my BIG PLAN.. wish me luck!!

The Saga Continues..(Part 2)

After a happy family dinner, we were back home.. I wondered how to spend the last few hours of my 'teenage' life.. I decided to pull down all the photo albums and the diaries from the years gone by.. There's something about going through ones old photos that livens up one's spirits.. you can't help but smile when you see a picture of yourself in a funny costume that you had to wear for a school play or a picture of you making funny faces at the camera on your first excursion outside the state.. I was enjoying the company of the 'ghost of the birthdays past'..

The sweet smell of vanilla mixed with the seductive scent of chocolate floated through the air... Lost in the downpour of memories, i had forgotten to check on my parents.. I had assumed they were asleep.. I listened, but all i could hear was muffled whispers.. i stepped out of my room, the entire house was dark except for a lone candle in the drawing room.. I took timid steps towards the candle.. I thought i heard a giggle..

Confetti flew in the air and the lights came on..

All the people i'd been looking at in my photo albums, stood in front of me now, all of them wearing a party hat and singing for me.. There was giggling, there was teasing but mostly there were just warm tight hugs..

So you think a picture is worth a thousand words?? Well, a hug is worth all the memories and the love associated with each of those memories that these simple words describe..

I was finally 20.. and i was loving every minute of my new life!!

The Saga Continues..(Part1)

( OK, i know this post is like a month overdue, but like i always say, better late than never :) )

I've always been scared of commitments of any form and quite frankly, i HATE change.... Changing schools, taking decisions, making new friends- its always been scary for me.. Call me a gutless mallu, but that's just how i am. And thus i find birthdays scary..

Confused? Well as you grow older, you have more responsibilities. and you need to be committed enough to these new responsibilities to do a half decent job.. NIGHTMARE!!!!

I'd been thinking of this very same nightmare for a while now and the daily birthday countdowns that my friends were giving me, the cards that were coming in and the constant birthday discussions were just making things work..

It's the last year of college, and maybe I'll be working the next year or perhaps I'll be doing my PG.. My head'd been spinning thinking about the responsibilities that were to fall on my head soon and the change that I'd have to encounter.. Every message that came in reminding me about my birthday felt like the loud ticking of a time bomb about to burst.. No matter how much my friends tried to show me the brighter side, my brain refused to accept there was anything good about growing older..

Dad'd just come back from a really long tour, and i was moping around oblivious to everything other than the loud ticking of 'the time-bomb'. We decided to go out for dinner, hoping that that would change my mood, at least temporarily.. I decided to drive:- grown up act #1..

My parents were talking about grad school.. but (thankfully) there was enough traffic to distract me..

A bunch of hooligans overtook suddenly from the right..My mum noticed the 'cute' guys in the car.. Dad commented on their 'uber sexy' tyres... I swore loudly, cursing the mindless brats( much to my dad's amusement and ma's shock):- grown up act #2..

We reached besant nagar ; i fussed about the lack of parking space and frowned at a skimpily dressed teenager.. :-grown up act #3..

My phone buzzed.. "yet another reminder", i thought as i crossed the road.. And thats when my dad took my hand.. He wrapped his fingers around mine, like he always did when i was little and pulled me along as he crossed the road..When we reached the other side, he patted my head and smiled. "No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little girl"

I looked at my phone to check the message.. it was F.O.F..

"Age is an issue of mind over matter, if you don't mind, it doesn't matter".

That's when it struck me, it didn't matter if i was turning 20 or 70. I would always be my daddy's little girl, i would always have the love of my friends... I could do whatever i wanted to do and be whoever i wanted to be.. no matter how old i was cos I'd always have people i could fall back on and who make every day of my existence a wonderful experience..

Somehow, the countdown didn't seem threatening now..

" Tick tock tick tock..4 more hours left of your teens" read the next message..

I smiled.. "four more hours before the start of a new adventure"

Guess who's back!

I was watchin Julie and Julia yesterday and watching Julie Powell's eyes light up every time she had a new recipe to blog about reminded me about how much i loved narrating funny happenings or venting my frustration through my blog.

Things've been coming up one after the other and I've found no time to write.. something that i adore. Its not that there hasn't been much to write about.. trust me there's lots.. Its just that I've not been finding time.. rather I've not made an effort to make time for it..

Writing a sarcastic love letter will not help me this time, but i know i need to pursue my passions and writing is one of them..

if i could quote a line from the movie to describe my blog:

" you are the butterto my bread and the breath to my life"

well actually i reckon that quote works well for all my passions, and so here's hoping, i find more time to pursue all that i love!

The one on nicknames

(This was supposed to be written instead of the previous post, but wats a good story without a prologue right? )

Now nicknames are very interesting, cos there're memories behind each nickname a person has. And each story is just as goofy and just as interesting as the other.. And your true identity is always hidden in your nickname ( or so at least i like to believe)

F.O.F ( new comers look at previous posts to find out who F.O.F is) and I were having another of our random conversations in the middle of the night when we came to the topic of nicknames.. Now he's got a very nice name, but its boring ( and a tad bit formal) to use a person's name in every conversation.. Nicknames are somehow more personal and a whole lot more fun. Thus began a night long conversation on suitable nicknames for each other.. Now as always i shall start with another story and come back to the interesting conversation i had ( what can i say, i love the air of suspense.. told yu i could be a drama queen)

So here's the story of my first nickname..

You know how kids pick up words ending with vowels more easily.. and most times they're repeated vowels.. for instance words like 'tata' and 'mumma' and the likes.. Well i was no exception.. Though my mum had tonnes of mallu names to call me by (read molu), i decided to coin an all new word of my own- 'Dappa' ( pronounced the same way as 'cuppa')

What logic went behind the invention of this name i know not.. But ever since i could speak, i called myself dappa.. and anything around me had to be prefixed with dappa.. for instance instead of jus askin for chocolate, i'd say 'dappa choco give' or instead of saying ' i don't want to go to school', i'd say 'dappa school no'.. Now everyone thought that it was incredibly cute ( Not jus the name, but the way i associated everything to the name/word dappa) and so the name stuck on..

And over the years, several other 'names' have emerged from this simple name.. Such as 'Double-u' ( coined by my mom's brother, after the weird way in which i can twist my eyebrows)

'Dappu' ( come on, its the comman cliche' right, the ending with 'u' name)

'Dapp'

So thats bout the 'name' i gave myself ( and as boring as this post might be to you, i'm having incredible fun walkin down memory lane or should i say 'funny name' lane)

Then there were the series of 'Deep' related names, like Deepu, Deep and what not.. But one of my all time favourites is 'Dips'.. Somethin my dad gave me.. and incidentally its also wat F.O.F has started calling me..

These were the 'normal' names, and now for the silly ones..

Lets go in order shall we..

Enter 4th grade, there comes a guy (Kumaresh i think his name was)

You know the whole ' the boy teases yu cos he secretly likes yu' story right, well apparently this guy DID like me, but i sure din like him for the weird nickname he gave me.. I'd jus come bak from Delhi, and no matter how mallu my family is, we prefer eating roti to rice.. So paranthas were a usual lunch..

And thus the boy decides to call me- *wait for it*- 'CHAPPATI!!!! Apparently it rhymes with Deepti.. So all through primary and middle school this guy and his 'gang' call me chappati.. (Till 8th when i finally realized i could do something about it and ended up punching the guy)

Next.. We're in 9th and guys have started lookin beyond 'Pokemon' and started discovering girls.. Now i was this tall, THIN thing in school and most guys were too shy to come and speak to me ( it could've also been the fact that most of them were afraid to talk to the 'teacher's daughter')

Now i'm the 9th grader's definition of 'hot' and nothing describes me better than a matchstick, so there yu have it, they started calling me ' THEEPETTI' ( which means match stick, or rather match box)

Next stop, 11th grade.. I'm the nerdy dancer/ artist who keeps to herself but when let lose, cracks crazy jokes and is basically fun to hang out with.. Then starts a fad, i started scribbling the initials 'dp' wherever i go.. On benches, on the floor, in all the text books, i write it EVERYWHERE in different styles.. The trend setter that i am, suddenly everyone starts spellin their name this way.. Divi (short for Divya) became DV.. Vaish (short for Vaishnavi) became YC and so on.. And so, for my kooky trends, i was christened Dippy ( or dp)

College was next.. Nothin interesting happened till my second year, when finally the triplets were formed!! Now i'd taken an oath of sorts to stop swearing.. Hence everytime i wanted to curse someone, i'd refer to them as a bumboola or a bumboo or jus plain bum.. Thus the name bumboo stuck to me( Vedha apparently yawns like a cat, hence she became Billi and supri who jus cant seem to keep her mouth shut became Blabber)

Those were all the names i have and like, and you never know, i might gain more as life moves on..And someday when I'm all old and grey and I'm signing some voucher at office, I'll think of all the names i have/ had and I'll have somethin to laugh about..

Love,

Bumboo/ Dips/ Dippy/ Theepetti/ Chappati

Ps. I forgot to tell yu what i called F.O.F... apparently the guy is 'slightly' scared of crossing roads and the first time we hung out, he literally sprinted across an empty road, so i named him 'road runner' or R.R. for short.. he loves the name, i love his company, all is good in the world \m/

What's in a name??

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell just as sweet."

One of the most popular quotes in the world, any bum who's not even heard of Shakespeare would still know this quote.. Which brings us to the topic of names.. What IS in a name?

They give a person an identity (erm ok but what do you do if your name is Shruthi and you're in a class filled with 7 other Shruthi's.. 2 with the same initial even?)

They speak about the person you are (again lets take the name Shruthi.. I know a couple who are absolutely tone deaf.. so much for maintaining 'Shruthi')

Everyone has a story behind their name (or nameS as most people I know have 'house names' and 'school names'.. yea I've never really figured that out myself)

One can be named after the star you were born under, after a much loved deceased relative, after one's favourite actor, or worst.. after an old flame..

Some families follow the letter obsession. You know, having all the children named with the same letter ( Classic example, a friend of my Dad called Gurumurthy, married Ganga and they decided to call their kids Gautham and Gowri.. Now that makes it easier for us cos we jus refer to them as the 'G's)

I have a story behind my name as well, before which i shall tell you what i was *shudder* almost named..

I was born a few months after my great grand mother's demise ( and she much like my grandfather had predicted that the child to be born-me!! would be a girl)

And when i was born they saw that i resembled her ( well yea, i was born bald like a lot of babies are and since she was dying of cancer, she din have much on her head towards her end.. and the baby wrinkles and the toothlessness contributed to my uncanny 'resemblance')

Hence some old kook (one of my mum's many uncles) decided i should be called 'PadmavathyKuttiAmma' after my great grandma..

My dad who was in Bahrain that time flew down just in time to save me!!

So then it was (thankfully) up to my parents to name me..

Mum wanted me to be named Shruthi ( now you know why i used that as an example :) )

Reason being she 'knew' I'd have a nice voice and well she wanted my name to begin with an 'S' as well since my brother's did.

Dad had better plans.. He wanted me to be called Deepti- one who brings light.. He gave everyone a 2 hour discourse on how this child- me!!! had brought in happiness into every one's otherwise grey existence..

People who'd been brooding over two recent deaths, now had something to smile about.. 'The birth of a new life'

He had just got promoted, and my brother (who always came second in class, losing by a few points to a sindhi girl) had finally come in first. So i was obviously the bearer of good news, the one who one who brought a 'glow' onto faces with my toothless baby yawns.. the one who brought 'warmth' to their dark cold days..

(Long story short my dad bull crapped for two hours cos he wanted me to be named after some form of light as well. His name's Pradeep, my brother is Sandeep.. My cousins are Divya, Diya and Deepak. And well he wanted another "deep" in the family)

So that's how i became Deepti.. and from this name came a hoard of nicknames. some interesting, some confusing and some just plain hilarious..But more on that in the next post..