Holi: Color, life lessons and nostalgia.

It's March of 2016 and here I am in the United States, 2 years after my last post, blowing the cobwebs off my blog. I took a moment to read my older posts and remember the people who were a part of all the hilarious situations I've been in, who have been so excited to see by "Blog alert" posts on Facebook and have constantly told me they've missed my writing. My first blog post was about a conversation with Babz (My grandfather, who we lost last month) and that just took me on a trip down memory lane.

The weather is steadily getting warmer and winter is slowly rolling into spring. We in India, celebrate this time of the year with a festival called 'Holi'. This festival marks the change of season.  If you haven't heard of the festival, I'm sure you must have seen a visual of it- people dancing, color in the air and all over their bodies. It is a festival of celebration of life and new beginnings. For some people Holi is just another day off from work. For some its an excuse to get high on bhaang. For some, it’s time with family and friends. For the farmers it means that it is time to harvest the crops they've toiled over, cursing the rain, protecting it from wild animals and waiting many, many months to see the wheat turn a golden yellow. And then, there are those farmers who are not as blessed as the others.

 

(Sourced from the internet) 

 I think Holi was one of Babz's favorite festivals. Vrindavan was definitely one of his favorite places and holi celebrated there is unlike anywhere else. Vrindavan, Mathura, Barsana and Braj are all places associated with Krishna. Babz would say that in Vrindavan you could feel the divine all around you. There are many stories in Indian mythology about why holi is celebrated, but the association of Krishna and holi is pretty interesting (and my favorite). Krishna was dark-skinned. He's depicted blue in his pictures. We call it 'Shyaam-rang' or 'the one with skin like dusk. His consort, Raadha was fair and that irked Krishna a lot. His mother playfully gave him an idea of dousing Raadha in color, so they would look the same. And that tradition continued. Holi is playful, like Krishna's nature. He was a lovable person, so he could get away with almost anything. Which is why you should not be offended by anyone or anything on holi! You douse each other in colors so bright, bringing down walls of the very things that divide us- caste, race, status and the color of your skin.

  

 

(PC: The Hindu)

Babz and I would watch the celebration in Vrindavan that they do with flowers, the Krishna-leela skits they do in Braj and the colorful riot people create in Mathura on TV back in Mumbai... both of us half wishing we were a part of the madness. And this year not having him around makes holi seem a bit empty for me, even though I haven't been enthusiastic about the 'playing' with colors part for a while. Also, I'm a thousand miles away from home and miss doing the things that were so routine. For instance, mom and dad waking us up with a fistful of color smeared all over our faces. Spending  time with mom in the kitchen helping her make gujiyas which are fried, sweet, stuffed dumplings that you just cannot eat one of. For our actual holi celebrations ever since we moved to Mumbai, Rati and I would perch ourselves on the balcony, looking at other people dancing away in the afternoon sun and seriously judging their song choices. We would later move on to our neighbors' homes for brunch and paani-puri (which may or may not have been spiked with vodka!). The late afternoons would be spent watching typical holi movies like Sholey or Mela. (Yes, I have seen Mela, multiple times. Go ahead, judge me.)

 We woke up like this.

I'll say, its not one of my favorite festivals, its still hard to not like holi. I love the freedom holi brings. I love the togetherness and yes, the color element is fun too. We say "bura naa maano, holi hai" or Don't take offence, its holi! Every person you put color on, you bring down a wall. You shed inhibitions and initiate an emotional connection. Or at least, that’s the way people should be doing it! 

So my people, with a bucketful of nostalgia, which is this post I wish all of you a very happy holi. If you're not playing with colors, you can still spread the cheer. For one day, go out of your way to make someone smile. Be someone's support. Be a positive influence. And remember, its easy to be offensive. Its harder to not take offense. Bura na maano, holi hai!

Love and light. 

The vote thing I did

It's been a while. And by a while I mean Woah! So what's new? Well for one thing I'm blogging from my phone for the first time! Ayo technology right there yo!! (sorry I've been watching a lot of ¡¡Superwoman¡¡ videos... I may sound a bit street.) And since I'm blogging from my phone I have no clue what autocorrect has been doing with my spellings. All Grammar/Spelling Nazi powers have been revoked.
There was one other thing... Uhhh... Oh yeah.
I voted! Yay!

That has probably been the highlight of this year so far... So you can probably imagine what an awesome year it has been... Not.
Anyhoo I've been very keen about the elections this time. I did my research, watched a lot of debates, drew elaborate charts comparing the cuteness levels of arnab vs rajdeep vs Rahul kanwal. Arnab was not in the running really, but then nothing political cannot not include arnabG. Ideas, ideologies, agendas of the candidates were some things I looked at at a priority basis and I made my desicion. Quite a few of you may know about my choice since I've been quite vocal about the candidate.

Another thing thats being spoken about is Mumbai's low voting turnout. Whose fault is it?
 We faced problems in our area too. The serial number on my voting card had been changed. Since I was quite enthu about the whole voting process, I fortunately  had been tracking our names on the voters list. We still had to run back and forth to different venues because the EC officer "could not find our name on the list". We made a mad dash to the regional voting center and finally dug our names out of a couple of thick books (and no the list was NOT alphabetical. It was according to the serial number... The very thing we were looking for). So far (This is the 3rd time I've voted) we were given tokens that cointained the ever so important serial numbers, by contesting parties so that the process is easier. This time we were conveniently forgotten. A lot of our neighbors names didn't even make it to the voters list. That does tend to happen when you're a small group of people who don't belong the focal vote pool.  Coming back to the question, whose fault it was... I say both the people and the guys in charge. It is the ECs duty to include every eligible voters name (who at least holds a voter id) on the main list. And it is the duty of every eligible voter to check and make sure their name is there. After witnessing the fiasco in Mumbai, I checked for my grandparents's names in the Lucknow voter list and found them missing. Then my grandfather spoke with the local authorities to check their records. 
We need to stop being spoonfed. And the people whose names were missing from the list would maybe account to 5% of the voting public. But what about the rest? I know people who stay out of state but  specially traveled back to Mumbai to vote. And I applaud their sincerity. 
Voting is important. It took me two elections to realize this. And yes... After I voted I posted a finger selfie. Even though my newsfeed was full of snarky comments about people taking finger selfies... Lol. I took a selfie not because I thought it was cool or to rub it in other peoples faces... Because I wanted to send out a message that I did my duty, even though I'm just one person, even though probably my vote may not swing things anywhere, even though voting or not will not change the state of affairs in the country... I took a step. And if you're one of the people who didn't by choice or just could not vote because of the circumstances you were in, no I won't be condescending and apathetic. Just make sure you vote next time... But till then, refrain from criticizing and complaining about the choice that the public makes simply because you were not a part of the decision making process. 
About the results. Well I'm quite open about my "love" towards the Congress lol. I'm not looking forward to see them continue. They have been a little annoying.
Speaking of annoying. Social media has been quite annoying during the elections. Let's say if I'm vocal in my support towards a certain candidate; it does not mean I agree with abso-blooming-lutely everything they say. Or that I think they're the purest people after Buddha to walk the planet. So don't tag me in posts where there is "proof" of their scheming and fooling the public. Or some interview that was "fixed". Or Posts that contain a long rant questioning why would sane people vote for that particular candidate. I know.. I've read enough... If not more than you, then as much as you. And no amount of me "samjhaoing" you will make you understand, then what makes you think I'll change my mind? If you think I'll give up and write "Ohmygod this is the most riveting piece of news ever... I cant vote for this person. Thanksforsavingmylifeandeverything." Not gonna happen. I'm tired of these posts. Please send me cat videos instead. So, thanks. But no thanks. 
Well thats it. Thats all for now.

and how can I forget. 

Just one of those times...

You know the time when your mind totally agrees with your heart? It doesn't happen to often. It doesn't stay so for too long. (My) Mind and Heart come up with a plan. The plan is simple: Be fearless.
I read it on a friends's blog a while ago. And now, it doesn't seem like a bad idea.

I'm done with thinking about consequences. I mean, when is the last time consequences have thought about me? (Okay, bad one.) But really, now is the time to suck it in. Take a chance and trust myself. I realize fear is what has kept me back and this is a situation that is no longer acceptable to me anymore. Things need some adjustment around me and the time is now.

For a change Mind & Heart are on the same side... Mine! And i feel like someone reassuringly sitting on my shoulder saying, it's alright bud... you tried! And y'know what? It feels good.
Papon playing in the background... saying "Iss dil ka kyaa karun...(Trans: What should I do with this heart of mine)" (Barfi, 2012). Mind is blissfully calm.

I'm at 25 years and 10 days. Damn, I'm getting old!

P.S: My friends blog is called 'Musing's of an Art Student'  http://musingsofanartsstudent.com 
Do say Hi, if you drop by, she'll love it :)

Peace Out!

Letters

I am weird in more ways than one.

Its surprising how at times I cannot hold conversations. I cannot indulge in small talk. If you happen to ask me about my opinion on something- say, curtains or wallpaper or if the orange kurta matches your pink chappals, my answer would most probably be: Smile, nod, and say "Hmmmm...Nice!". In my head I'll be in a panic, looking for the nearest exit.

But its strange how I manage to express myself through letters and writing.
I love writing and receiving letters. Even if they're absolute trash, I love receiving stamped enveloped addressed for me. It's something that's exclusively mine, I don't have to share it with anyone.

The art of letter writing may be dying. 96.4% of the mail you receive are either bank statements, credit card bills, phone bills, magazine subscriptions etc. (Statistics courtesy the National Institute of Postal & Telegraphic Studies) If you're lucky, you may get a legal notice or two. So mail isn't something people look forward to. They look at it with dread and indifference.

I think letters are beautiful. They say things you  cannot verbally express. Nothing can be more personal than a letter for you. When I moved from Ahmedabad to Mumbai I wrote a dozen letters to Anu and Debo, even though we had cellphones and would talk to each other every other week. And they wrote back. When I am at fault but I cannot verbally apologize, I write a letter.  I've been consistently writing letters (since the 4th grade) every year for Raksha Bandhan. I have 11 brothers (all cousins and some extended family) and each brother, gets their own addressed letter.

The Rakhi letters I send have the same format :
1. Pleasantries
2. Hoping the recipient is fine
3. Stating the main purpose of the letter: "On the occasion of Rakshabandhan, Rati and I are sending you Rakhis...."
4. Recent personal developments in the letter writer's life
5. Recent Rati-isms that are letter worthy
6. Short discussion of any news about the recipient that you've recently heard of.
7. Giving the writer's love and regards to the receiver's family
8. Sending love and regards from the writer's family's to the recipient family
9. Hoping to see / hear from the recipient soon
10. Lots of love

Whew. That's a lot of work. And structuring the entire letter to different people, according to their ages and also keeping in mind their sense of humor is what makes each letter different. And of course adding a personal touch to every letter- a smiley or a cartoon (if there is space left on the page, that is!)
I usually don't realize its Rakhi till i see the rakhi stalls on the road and ads in the newspapers, so often my Rakhi letters get delayed by a day or two. What does not help is keeping track that which brother is in which part of the world doing what; Which makes finding their addresses a very last moment-ish thing.

But its okay. Getting a Rakhi on the VERY day of rakhsha bandhan is not as important and letting the recipient know,that the author of the letter thinks about them, cares for them and loves them, even if they haven't met for years.

So dear brothers. I don't need you to write back to me. (Trust me,The last thing I need are pity letters). Think of the letters as handwritten annual reports of a Singh's life. If you string together all the letters I've ever written, you each own your own personalized, handwritten copy of 'Devyani's Autobiography' :P
I'm in a zen like state when I write letters. It's a way I share the happenings of my life with you. That for me is Raksha Bandhan in the truest sense.

Just tell me when you get your letters. If you don't I can sue the Post Office people for 500 bucks per letter. (At least I'll earn something.)
Happy Rakhi! :)

Pride Vs Prejudice

We walked into the room.

With my parents on either side, we entered a dull looking air conditioned room. Quite like the physician’s office, except with lots of cabinets & trophies and shields adorning the walls. She was a grim faced woman and it clearly looked like it wasn't a good time to be seeing her. But this meeting couldn't be postponed, we'd been preparing since weeks.

My parents had been shooting questions at me and my 5 year old self answering- colors, days of the week, months of the year, Hindi, English, spelling and what not. There'll be people asking me all these things and I needed to show them I was smart and good enough to study in their school.  

“Be nice to her, smile and answer her questions”, mum said. So I smiled at the woman- the smile was not returned. Strike One.

I took a seat next to the woman and my parents sat opposite to her. She was going through my papers, drawing and the extensive files Australian Schools make. Certificates- including my Guest of Honor Certificates that I won for music. Twice.

Still no smile she started talking to my parents. I don't remember what exactly they were talking about, just that she was doing most of the talking (quite loudly) while my parents listened, not looking very happy.                     

Strike Two.

 I zoned out of their conversation and started looking at the things on her desk- the colorful paper-weights, the stack of files, the magnetic pin cushion and started thinking about going to school here. Would I like it? It was an uncomfortable thought. I was lurched out of my dream with a stern question. “Fine, Spell ‘Tree’”.  

My parents were looking at me and so was the woman. Suddenly, I was in the spotlight. Mrs. Grim Face had a deadpan expression on her face. “Spell ‘Tree’ ”, she said again. It didn't feel right. Why should I answer to her? She wasn't even being nice. But my Grandma told me to be respectful to others, especially elders, even if they're being mean to you.

So I started. “T….R….E…” And stopped there.

The room was tense. My parents' eyes were as wide as golf balls. I could actually hear my mom shouting in her head “THERE’S ANOTHER ‘E’!!! T…R…E…E!! YOU KNOW THE SPELLING!  SAY IT…. SAYYYY ITTTT!”.

“Again”, commanded the woman.

I just knew. I did not want to go to this school. I didn't see myself in this atmosphere with a person who didn't like me very much. If I get through this interview, I would have no choice. 

I looked in her eyes and with a firm voice said, “T…R...E.”  

My parents were miserable. I felt bad for them, I almost did say out the ‘E’. Of course I knew the spelling. I didn't want her to know.

“She can’t spell. Not even a simple word”, concluded the woman. “I’m sorry”. There was more talking. It didn't matter. The woman was rude to me and my parents. A five year old understood that. I was done. 

As we left the room, I was dreaming of the ice cream that I was promised. My parents were in shock and were wondering where they went wrong in my upbringing .

I didn't care. Strike Three. She was out. 

P.S. : It worked out for me pretty well. I got into a better school- where the Principal was really nice. And an even better school after that. #DipsiteForLife
 So trust your instincts... you may be right afterall :) 

Great Music to Wake up to

I've always wanted to post something on two things: Food (Soon, I hope...) & Music.
Funny stuff, food & music, is what I'm all about. Really.
So, it's been a long time since I've posted something, and this post has been long overdue- here it is folks: Great Music to Wake Up To.

It is essential one has at least ONE great 'Wake Up' song. Not necessarily 'wake-me-up-in-the-morning', alarm call kind of song. But a song that can also pick you up when you're feeling low. Now, you may agree or disagree; your favorite wake up song may be "Baabul ki duaaen leti jaa" for all I know. So this is my list. I'd love for you to post a few songs that you like to hear when you're low. So, since I have nothing else to write about, here goes:
(The list is random... no specific ranking or preference)

1. CROSSROADS: Eric Clapton


Originally, a song by Robert Johnson, and now made popular by John Mayer, this a great song to start your day with. Bouncy Up-beat tunes make a great song to walk to as well. The best part? It hardly has any lyrics! So it's a great song if you have issues with learning lyrics and stuff.

"I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees

Asked the Lord for mercy, I said, help me if you please"

2. DO TO YOU: Bryan Adams

Sadly, I couldn't find a YouTube link.  And just FYI Bryan Adams has songs which are better than 'Summer of 69' and 'Everything I do, I do it for you'. Do to you,  is one of them. He's such a talented fellow and it's sad to see that so many people don't know most of his great songs. 

I love the way this song starts, "Da dan dan dan dan dan dan....Here we go!" 

You can't help, but dance. 

3. CHANGE OF SEASONS: Sweet Thing

Thank you 'Easy A'. This song features in the opening credits of this movie. This upbeat track makes a great running song... I always play it on the loop! An instantaneous mood up-lifter. 

4. SNOW (HEY OH): Red Hot Chili Peppers 

Man, whatte song. One of my favorite songs by RHCP. Even slow-ish songs can make you feel so good, this is the example of just that. I sometimes play this song as my alarm tone. Great way to wake up man. 

"They more I say, The less I know...

The more I try to let it go...Hey Oh".

5. DOG DAYS ARE OVER:  Florence + The Machine  

This song not only lifts you up, but fills you with a surging happiness, well at least it does for me. Not a great alarm song, but a great song to hear when you need inspiration. 

Happiness will hit you like a bullet in the back.. most definitely. I don't know why people would listen to lame-os like Beiber, Selena Gomez, Miley Cyrus when there are such songs around.

"Can you hear the horses... 'Cuz here they come." 

6. EDGE OF SEVENTEEN: Stevie Nicks

No 'Best Songs' list can be complete without a Stevie Nicks song. This is an iconic song. Sound familiar? The first few strains are used in the popular 'Destiny's Child' song "Bootylicious". Also tis song is in the movie 'School of Rock' {Jack Black asks Joan Cusack out for 'coffee' to a Bar. Joan gets drunk and both of them are seen singing this song}.

Stevie Nicks grainy voice reflect in the lyrics so well. She was going through a tough phase in her life, when she came up with this ... and it all comes together in this epic song. 

"And the days go by like a strand in the windIn the web that is my own I begin againSaid to my friend babyNothin' else mattered"

7. I'M THE ONLY ONE: Melissa Etheridge

They don't make female singers like Melissa Etheridge anymore. This has to be one of my ultimate go to songs when I need a change in my mood. Melissa Etheridge was a recent discovery for me. A lot of lucky people have grown up listening to her. The original version of the song can be found here.

"It's only fear that makes you run 

The demons that you're hiding from 

When all your promises are gone 

I'm the only one"

8. RUMOR HAS IT: Adele

From the first notes of this song, you know Adele means business. This songsnaps me out of my 'Blehness' and gets me going! Adele, you're awesome girl! 

9. SON'S GONNA RISE: Citizen Cope

Makers of the famous song "Let the Drummer Kick it", it's a great song to listen to in the morning. It's got this backstreet, bluesy, laid-back, easygoing style. A great morning song. Also a great driving song. 

10. STITCHED UP: Herbie Hancock Feat. John Mayer

Something that John Mayer is known best for (other than his Womanizer ways)- Blues. 

A guy who knows his stuff- Herbie Hancock. 

THIS is my morning alarm. I don't like being scared to death with someone yelling "DU HAST" when I'm in a deep slumber. So I like being woken up by John Mayer's voice. Some of the lyrics go. :                      

"Who's to say she's single

And who's to say she's on her own

Girls like that don't sleep alone"

So this is ot. Maybe I'll make a part-2 Sometime. But this is my list, just random ones from the top of my head (and iPod). 

A teachers day post will be coming up soon. I loved the last one I wrote, so did lots of other people. You can read it here.

#RandomGyan: I'm happy about not knowing much stuff, cuz then I know how much there is for me to explore. 
Cheerio!

It's been a while....

It's been a while since I've seen your pretty faces. Really, I've hardly gotten time to breathe with all the new stuff going on with me. But istill I is heres to makes you heppy agains!
So, there are a million things I want to write about right now. I truly have a thousand ideas swimming in my head AND I've started maintaining a notebook where I jot down points about possible blog topics.

So why am I not posting so often?
Well I have this tiny little problem called ME.

As I start typing I have hundreds of voices going on in my head saying if this post would be as good as the last one or what are people going to think or I will never be as good as 'so-and-so' or how lame I sound lahdidah...  And then I lose interest and I drop the idea of posting the blog halfway.

The objective of THIS post is to get over this neurotic, perfection-obsessed brain of mine and say, "There you go, an imperfect- unplanned-impromptu post!". So this ladies and gents, is a huge leap for me. *Applause*. (Heheheh). Really, I have so many wars going on in my head, with my self; It's really hard to produce something that's so in the flow and random. I read other peoples blog and go, "Oh my God, I can never write like that! How do they do that? How do they find the words??!". 

So this post, Is dedicated to the voices in my head.
 Dear Random Voices,
 Kindly shut up & stay out.
I have arrived!

Your's Truly.
D. Singh


P.S!!!
From now on, I'm going to add a random note after every blog which has nothing to do with the subject of the blog... which are more like random thoughts in my head. So here goes,

#RandomGyan: I don't really like autobiographies too much. I feel the writers are too full of themselves.

A Palabra of Pride... and a Subway Sandwich.

So I woke up a few days ago, with this strange need to eat a sub sandwich. All I could think about was "God, I need to have a sub today". The Subway adverts added to this queer temptation. So it was decided, a veggie delight from Subway for lunch. Final.

It was one of those days, where all you want to do is curl up and indulge in some comfort food, watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S reruns and basically do nothing productive. The day was so 'blehsome'. It was cold. I didn't feel like cooking or reading or even watering the plants. I had thoughts about my life being so sad, useless and pathetic. The only thing that could make it all better was a parmesan-oregano breaded 'Veggie Delight Sub'- slathered with mayonnaise and black pepper yogurt with a dash of mustard and a hint of south-west sauce. Thinking about the sub made me feel so good that I called up our nearest Subway store, a kilometer away from our home, asking them to deliver my sub the way I wanted it.
After what seemed like eternity, but was actually 45 minutes the doorbell rang and a chorus of "Hallelujah" erupted in my head (the happy hallelujah not the Jeff Buckley version). I skipped to the door and there was the Subway guy with my "the-best-thing-that-will-happen-to-me-all-day-awesomesauce" sub. After paying him, I skipped to the kitchen, tore off the wrapping just to find an abysmally thin, not too delightful, sub.

This is supposed to make me feel good about myself? Really?

Curious, I parted the the sandwich open to find no sauce except for a measly dollop of south-west  and a smudge of black pepper yogurt. The absence of veggies in the veggie delight was not pleasing wither. (Is this what you call irony??) All I could see was lettuce, a few tomatoes and a single sorry cucumber slice. No olives, no pickles, no Jalapeños . I could have gotten a better sandwich at any street side sandwich shop. I was crushed. 

I don't want to sound neurotic or anything, but when you put so much thought, imagination and emotion into a sandwich and it doesn't turn out the way it should,  it is upsetting. And if you're a food lover, it's apocalyptic. 

So I'm sitting in a post-apocalyptic shock with the WMD sandwich (Weapon of Mojo destruction) in my hand. Without giving it too much thought I called up Subway, stating that I was very upset with the sandwich that I was sent. 

Me: I am very upset with the sandwich that I was sent.

Subway: Why? 

Me: There are hardly any veggies and none of the sauces that I asked for. Its not what I wanted.

Subway: We don't put sauces in sandwiches we send for delivery.

Me: WHAT? That's absurd!

Subway: Yes, the sandwich becomes too soggy.

Me (Anger rising): So you'll send me a dry sub?

Subway: It can't be dry.

Me (temper rising): I'm telling you it is....

Subway: "It is" not possible.

Me (Temper off the hook): So will you believe me when I bring the sandwich down to the store and show it to you?

Subway: Yes come anytime you wish.

Me: (Too angry to say anything, I hang up)

Fuming, I start to change out of my PJs to my street clothes. "You chose the wrong person to mess with Sub-boy". You should not pull a  tiger's tail or mess with a hungry girl with a ruined sandwich.

While looking for my wallet, I realized something.  A voice in my head took over. 

 Voice: So what if you go to Subway? You show them the sandwich and they fix it. They put a dollop of mayo and other sauces. Then what? Are you telling me you're going to go all the way to Subway for mayo and mustard?? Is that what you're saying.?

Me: No. I'm going for the olives, jalapenos and pickles as well.

Voice: Its not about the pickles!! Do you have any idea how stupid you'll look? Right now after that phone call. you were the crazy-neurotic-psycho sandwich girl who didn't get enough mayo on her sandwich. When you go there, they'll be able to put a face to that name. 

Me: But if I don't go, they win.

Voice: *Facepalm*

Then I slowed down. Will they laugh at me if I go? Will i come across as crazy?
Voice: Yes you will.

Me: Aah shut up!

It was a matter of pride. I knew the guy at Subway told me to "come anytime you wish" because he thought I won't come all the way down to the store for such a petty issue. Its just sauce after all. 

It all came down to Mayo and Mustard.

And Jalapenos, Olives and Pickles.

I was in a daze contemplating about the issue in hand. And before I knew it. I was at subway.

There was this huge line of people waiting for their subs. And there was me. I stood outside the store for a few moments and then made a dash to the ATM next doors. 
"Ok... lets not fret now.... I want what I want, and I want a decent sandwich!" Keeping my breathing steady and bracing myself I exited the ATM and  entered the store. 


Spotting a guy manning the phones I went up to him and said, "Hi, I just called. I want my sandwich fixed."
Since I'm a good people-face-expression-reader, they guys there were either:
a) Not expecting me to come
b) Ashamed that they thought I would'nt come
c) Had no clue about my sandwich or my call or
d) Were born with bewildered expressions on their faces.


Long story short... (Oops too late!) They PROFUSELY apologized for the trouble they caused. And loaded my sub with all the veggies a poor 6 inch sub could handle. And Oh, there was Mayo and Mustard. Lots of it.


Moral of the story: You want something. Go get it. It doesn't matter how stupid you look in the process, because the end result is delicious. :)
Don't believe me? Well this picture proves it. 

See y'all next time! 

The Birthday Blog.

I started this blog when i was 18 years old. Tomorrow, I turn 23.

23.
(And, yes.... this time I did the math.)

So, you may think how freaked out, shit-scared I am about growing up and all. I'm saying that because most of my posts are about the perils of grown up life and growing up in itself. Well, the thing is, when I was little I had this thing I believed in till quite a long time. Till I was 11 actually.
I always thought people never grow up. Parents are born parents and their purpose in life is to take care of their kids. Children remain children forever and go to school forever. 12th...13th...14th....500th grade. Yeah. Lame... I know.
The 'real deal' came as a rude shock for me. All my plans, ideas, my entire perception about life itself just fell through the roof. Out the window. Across the yard. Beyond the horizon. You get my point don't you?
So, these posts I write are mostly for myself (and my 4-5 followers) to constantly reassure myself to hang in there and calm down. I'm acting like my own counselor. And I think it works sometimes.  [Okay, now you think I'm a crazy person. Perfect.]

So yeah, tomorrow is my birthday. It used to be such a big deal when I was in school. New clothes, sweets for the class and teachers, party in the evening at home, the Black-forest cake from Upper Crust, kids from around the block, playing hide and seek at night. Now I'm sitting at home, next to my parents, watching "Bade Acchey Lagte Hai" and writing my blog. (Ram Kapoor and his on screen wife are in Australia by the way,Still haven't seen one decent authentic Australian this entire week!)  
Our teachers used to ask us to make a birthday resolutions. I remember my resolutions would always be related to studies or scoring more marks. I never really made a 'special' effort to study, so all that went waste. My resolutions now are more like to do lists.

"I resolve to buy a bar of dark chocolate tomorrow"
"I resolve to eat no more lauki this week"
"I resolve to watch at least two episodes of Grey's Anatomy tomorrow"

Okay, maybe these aren't your conventional resolutions. But they work!  And then I don't have to go about saying "Resolutions are meant to be broken" ladidah.
So my resolutions are:
1. No more Ice cream, only Frozen Yogurt. Doesn't matter if buying it will burn a hole of the size of Cambodia in my wallet every time.
2. Cut down on my laptop time. Nah. Scratch that.
3. Exercise more regularly Now that dance classes are over, need to pay attention on that.
4. Clean out closet.
5. Study.
6. Work on the above points after new years.
Done. Phew.

So imma go sleep. Last bit of maturity can just take a hike.
Peace out peeps!

*An interesting thing that happened today at breakfast*
Dad, Rati and I at the dining table discussing birthdays.
Me: I've stopped being excited about birthdays altogether. I'm growing old.
Rati: Me too yaar. Not so appealing anymore. What about you dad? What did you do when you were   young?
Dad: We never had this concept of celebrating stuff except for festivals. I remember we used to get channas in school on my birthday (Children's Day). I started celebrating birthdays and wedding anniversaries only after your mom and i got married.
Rati: Thank God. 'Cuz celebrating your wedding anniversary in your childhood would've been really weird.
Dad: *mental face-palm*

Okay. Had you been there, It would've been funnier.
LAUGH. I order you to. Birthday rules!!
Yeah.
 \m/

One for my Teachers

I was a strange kid.

No. Not kidding. I was really weird. 

*

4th Grade.

Hindi class. 

We all just finished a Hindi class test. Our teacher Mrs. Vandana Joshi had a surprise for us. 

"I won't be checking your copies today, you all are big kids. You can swap notebooks and check your partner's copies. And, you can use pens to check. The correct answers are on the board."

The whole class erupted with joy. We could use pens! In class 4, that was a BIG deal. I swapped my notebook with Nisha, my partner. I remember neither of us being great in hindi,  (at that time at least).  

So, seeing that Nisha was far from scoring top marks (Sorry Nish!), after every mistake I circled, I'd write a note of encouragement or drew a smiley face. Nisha was doing the same thing in mine; as I too was nowhere nearing average scores. We both peeked in our respective copies and saw what we were doing. In order to out-do the other ... our remarks and cartoons started from cute, to encouraging, to downright pathetic...

"Don't worry..be happy".

"This is not the last test, you'll score next time!"

"Live and let live"

"Every dog has its day..."

We scribbled and scribbled. In the end there were more remarks than test-material. We, really proud of what we had done, went to Vandana ma'am to get the 'test' signed. Waiting for praises to shower on us, we saw her jaw drop.

Result: We were sent to the Sr. Kg class next door. Vandana ma'am sent us to observe and learn how to behave and stay there till we'd learnt something. 

What I learnt: Never enroll yourself in the same school your sibling goes to. That was Rati's Sr. Kg class. The minute she saw me walking in, the little dweeb had to go, "Minnnnnnieeeeeee!!! That's my sister!! What are you doing here? Are you punished? Look my sister and her friend got punished!!" 

I never heard enough of it.

*

Now that I think about the things I did and they way I used to act, I feel stupid. I was strangely inquisitive and I had to touch everything! It was like an obsessive compulsion for me to know stuff. My repertoire boasts of breaking cameras, stopping escalators, messing with show pieces, casually wandering off somewhere and 'forgetting' to come back home... But the reason behind all these antics was just one- I was inquisitive and I loved to observe stuff. Very "Ooh, what does this button do?!". Everything I did was always with some good intention but they never always turned out that way.I feel sorry for the people who put up with me- My parents and my teachers. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank them for putting up with my weirdness. Well, there was little that my parents could do... after all I was their child, so they had to live with my eccentricity. But I'm amazed how my teachers put up with me.

I was the kid who chatted with people in the middle of class, who skipped and did not walk to class, who put her hand up to answer  and then forget what the question was, who would completely zone out and would stare into space. Yup, that was me... till 9th grade. There was so much going around me I found it hard to concentrate on one thing happening inside class. Ugh. 

I was always in trouble especially with Aruna ma'am (my Science teacher till class 5. I think she taught us biology in class 6 too), Vandana Ma'am (Hindi), Noopur Ma'am (English, History/Civics/Eco), Ashu Ma'am (Hindi- higher classes), Uma ma'am (Maths), Anup Sir (Chem), Alka Ma'am (Physics),... Parthiv Sir (Games)... Okay  lets just say I was trouble for everyone. 

*

Dipali ma'am, our librarian took us for our first field trip to Mt.Abu. It was a 10 day trip. 10 days with 3rd graders. We drove her crazy and she would scream her lungs out at us! But she'd also tend to our injuries (Yeah, that would be me again... i fell off  trees, scraped myself a dozen times and had volcanic nosebleeds) and would sing "Itnee shakti hame de na dataa..." for us at night. Even now when I hear that song, I think of Dipali ma'am. Yeah, Mt. Abu was a memorable trip.  

(Now I also understand why she would sing that song... she needed all the "shakti" she could get!)

*

But all the mistakes that were pointed out to me and corrected; and all the encouragement I got from  my teachers made a huge difference in my life. I may have been a messed up kid, but i was really sorted as a teenager- which is actually when most people go crazy. No one was harsh on me... but they weren't too easy on me either and frankly, I prefer that because I'm happy the way I've turned out. My teachers have really helped me (knowingly/ unknowingly) to become what I am. 

Even during college. I have a great relationship with my teachers (even now). I was never disrespectful to any of my teachers. It would be all fun and games. From swapping food with Anil Sir to pointless arguments with Hegde sir, from gossiping with Meghna Ma'am to cracking jokes with Goldin ''saar''. 

After a spell of non-attendance, I turned up to college one day and my post-grad teacher Jai Ma'am  said, "Thank God  you turned up today, this place was getting really dull without you around!" And that made my day... !!

So this is for all my teachers... 

Sorry for being an absolute annoying-pain-in-the-neck and thank you for everything :)

Happy teachers day!! 

                                                                  

 *

Third year BSc. 

Mithibai College

Papiya Ma'am was collecting her notes from the table in the lab.

Sowmya, Palak and I were standing outside the lab. Peeking from the door.

Sowmya: Should we ask her? This feels weird. 

Palak: I don't think people do this, usually.

Me: Oh, Come on! It'll be rude, if we don't. And it won't be right.

Ma'am came outside the lab and gave us a searching look.

Sowmya: Ma'am its your lecture.

Ma'am: Yes, yes. I'm coming to class. Go on. I'll be there.

None of us move.

Palak: (Looks at me..) Ma'am we..um...

Me: (Blurting out) We want to watch a movie. We were wondering if we could bunk your class.

*Silence*

Ma'am: (Coming out of her initial shock, since when have students started taking permission to bunk class?) Absolutely not. You're sitting for my lecture.

And she practically steered us back to class,while Sowmya muttered "Devyani and her great ideas..."

With 15 minutes for the lecture to end and 20 minutes for the movie to start, Ma'am asks us, "Which movie?"

"The Dark Knight" we say in unision.

"Ok. Mark your attendance and go." 

Marking our attendance and giving the others smug looks we fly off to the movie hall. 

*

Old and New

So we shifted houses last week. Nothing great, we just came down to the 5th floor from the 7th in the same building. We've changed places 3-4 times, we've changed cities and even Countries. But shifting from the 7th to 5th floor has been the most challenging thing ever.

You tend to take it lightly. 'Cuz in the end, its just 2 floors down. So you leave everything till the last moment. Then suddenly the new occupants arrive out of the blue, with all their stuff and you need to move out asap; a week before you actually intended to move. Its CHAOS.

Between all this chaos while packing and moving, you come across these tit-bits that are of no use but you have this clingy feeling towards it. I hate this clingy-ness and this feeling of 'oh-what-if-I-need-this someday-and-don't-find-it"? And for some reason, i was not clingy to anything. After all if you don't get rid of the old stuff, there will be no place for the new. There was just one problem.

MY father. The king of Cling.

He was like Kreacher from Harry Potter. Everything that i would throw out he would somehow smuggle it back into the house stating some or the other use. From old wires ("What if I need it for the music system?"), to shirts ("This is pure Australian cotton, i can use it for yoga !!"), from books and magazines... 8kgs of them ("What do you think i'm going to do after I retire? Read these of course!"), to pen caps ("You always keep losing pen caps, keep them together and then you can replace these with the lost ones"), from crusty battered bags ("Ah! I'll keep the phone and electricity bills in these" ) to broken radios ("It's not broken. Wait I'll fix it.").

All this stuff did go, but not when he was around. (Don't tell him though).

The more he kept stuff, the more stuff I threw out. We opened our box bed, which we didn't touch, ever since we came to Mumbai 7 years ago. Boy oh boy kid we pack some junk! A Broken kid's accordion, a remote controlled car, my old video game, more and more and more books! Mountains of sarees, huge carpets and thick, knobbly, wooly blankets. After throwing out most of the stuff, I looked around and spotted the huge mound of blankets.

"These, have to go!", i said pointing at the blankets. "They take up space and you don't need them in Mumbai anyway."

Mom grabbed a bundle of soft pink blankets. "I'm not throwing these ones, they're very expensive and they're in a good condition."

Sensing the finality in her tone, I went for a set of revolting brown and orange blankets.

"And these? Throw these"

"These were given to us as a wedding gift, but I guess we can throw them away now" Mom said a little hesitantly.

The last two blankets will very thick, white, had some painted designs on them and were very heavy. So i dragged them out and said, "These are going. I've said it. Bas, Enough."

"You can't throw these", Mom said.

"In God's name, WHY?"

Pointing to dad she said,"Ask him".

"Because," Dad said in a wistful voice, "My mother made them for me with her own hands. She stuffed it with cotton and stitched it herself. And painting was so expensive back then but she still got it painted for us."

Mom was smirking at me. She knew all along. Cheeky.

Trying to act unabashed and to fill in the awkward silence, I start rummaging through whats left in the bed. I find a heavily chewed book (No, we did not own a dog when I was a kid, but we did have Rati, you'd never know the difference.)

It was called, "A book about Me!", a Dr. Suess book. After some time i find myself smiling away while reading that book. It was a fill-in-yourself kind of a book. I must have been 5 years old when i filled it. Some of the things I wrote we're quite funny. For instance,

* I wanted a pet dinosaur

*I was "11 centimeters" tall. (I wasn't 11 cms tall, I just wrote I was!)

*I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up (Now, that's news!)

*In the "draw a picture of yourself" part, i drew myself with blonde hair.

* In the ''how many teeth do you have? part" i wrote 12.

*Rati had colored all over the book, distinctly outside the margins... clearly indicating she had no future in the fine arts.

It's the memories that makes you all clingy and weird. We can associate everything and anything with some kind of a memory. And we find reasons for keeping stuff with us so that we are constantly reminded of what it was like. I have a knack of doing that. Who doesn't like to re-live old times? For instance, I have kept all the letters that people have ever written to me. I love reading them again and again. Looking at it on the flipside, if you just keep hanging on to these old memories you're not making room for the new and possibly better ones. The question is where do we stop? Where do we draw the line? The answer- you'll know. In time, i guess, we learn to move on. Life is all about moving forward isn't it?

So the book stayed so did my signed Old DPS uniform, my first DPS Blazer, my Wilson Primary School t-shirt and yes, so did the blanket. We brought everything down with a LOT of effort, re-assembled the bed and started putting things back. And then ... *CRACK* the bottom part of the box bed gave way and broke.
"Oh no! Of all the times it could break, it chooses to break now!" Mom exclaimed, fretting about the all the stuff that has no place to go.

"You remember we bought this bed when you joined DPS?" Dad said.

All I could say was, "Yay!! New bed!!".

Something had to go ;)

Growing up and all that jazz.

If you ask me, out of the blue, anytime how old I am, It'll take me a few minutes to answer. Its something involuntary. It's like I'm not just telling you how old I am, I'm realizing that fact too.
Something like-
XYZ: So, how old are you?

Me (Thinking....thinking....Realizes): 22....OH SHIT...I'm 22!!

Till a few weeks ago, I don't know why... but I was under the impression I was 21 and was turning 22 this year. So, my friend actually made me do the math. In an instant I had lost an entire year of my life and I had NO clue about it.

Stupid?? Yeah.

The once wise Meredith Grey (in her saner days) said, " We're Adults. When did that happen? And how do we make it stop?". I hear you Meredith. And i have no clue either. So, you can go on having fun with McDreamy, while I ponder over this one.

Its funny, because when we're kids our sole

aim in life was to grow up. "You wait till I grow up... "would be my favorite phrase. It'd be followed by stuff like, "..I'll vote for good people" or "...I'm gonna buy my own Dog, Mom." or "I'll pay for these broken plates, Dad!" or "I'm not gonna study anymore!" blah blah blah. I'd imagine adulthood to be sheer awesomeness. I'd have this golden aura around me and people would call me "the wise one". I imagined I'd have my own car. When people would ask me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I said, "I want to smoke!".

Its said when you turn 18, you're an adult, because you can get married and do 'big people' stuff. But 16 in the new 18 and 18 is the new 25, so I'm really lost with all the age thing. And if people were to give me any major decisions to make when I was 18, boy would everyone be screwed because I was a terrible 18 year old! The one thing i knew to do right was to look smart and stay quiet.

Now I'm a grown up (or that's what people like to believe). I still take my parents advise, I still break cutlery. I have no idea who I voted for (In my defense, I got my voters ID an hour before I had to go and vote, during the last elections), I highly disapprove of smoking , I've got my masters degree and I wan't nothing more in life but to study!

I've come to believe that we never grow up. There's no specific point in your life where a person will jump out of the crowd and say, "You're an adult! Congratulations!!" We just keep on changing. Its a dynamic thing. Evolution is the word, but at a more mental than physical level. (Don't freak out, we are not changing into apes again, though apes might be getting smarter than us!).

In our process of mental or spiritual evolution, we wish for a few things, we realize a few things and we are thankful for a few things that did or even did not happen.

Meta-physically speaking and according to quantum

physics, we are like particulates ....woah...okay, I'm just kidding :P None of that stuff. I have no clue about that. But you get what I'm trying to say, yeah?

But this thing, well it sucks.

And after reading this post, if your expression is like any of the following- ive got something to say to you:
(Left to right:)

1. The "I know...so?"- So you already knew what I'm talking about? Good for you.

2. The "The umm...what was this"? - Stop making that face. You look like Hannibal. And you'd want to check the title of the blog again.

3. The "Oh, i'll read it after my snooze"- Good Night. Thanks for sleeping on my blog.

4. The "Okkkkay. Next!"- Just go. Ugh.

5. The "OMG!! She's so awesome, i'm gonna cry."- Dude, Get a grip.

If your expression is not available on the list. kindly send me a photo and I'll get back to you asap.
How grown up is that?

Dad VS Me: EduKayShann

I have been really blessed to have studied out of great institutions during my student life (I've just suddenly realized that, now that my student life is coming to an end).

School: DPS Ahmedabad. (Delhi Public School- for all the morons who don't know what DPS stands for)

Jr + Degree College: Mithibai College, Mumbai

Post-Grad: The Institute of Science, University of Mumbai, Mumbai

I am really Happy with my educational line up. Its pretty impressive, actually and yeah I'm being a bit boast-y... but hey, its true! All these places have tremendous "name" value (Don't ask me what that is). And its really been a pleasure being a part of these institutions - The first two actually. The third one...ummm...? At Isc Mumbai... Its been just hilarious. More about that later.

My dad's school line up is pretty amazing too. His schooling years were spent at the local pathshaala, which I, for some time imagined to be under a banyan tree in some remote village of Uttar Pradesh. (I was right about the 'remote village in U.P'). His school was a very basic one, where the 'Masterji' was strict and would frequently whip the the boys with a 'sannti' ( an extremely thin cane). Furthermore, the student who was to face the wrath of the sannti, was made to choose from a selection of sannties or at times was made to go pick one out fresh from the tree outside the classroom. Dad says the thicker the sannti, the better...It hurt less. Yeah, I feel bad when I listen to his school stories. I always picture dad as the bechaara, quiet geek sitting in the corner and all he wants to do is study. I bet dad was the class nerd and homework was it favorite pastime.

Dad went on further to study at the AMU (Aligarh Muslim University) where he completed his Bachelors, masters and his Ph. D. Now that, is pretty awesome. He studied amongst the greats there. He met his guide who invited him to study in Australia and at Curtin University of Technology, Perth, he completed his Post Doc.

So why am i writing my dads biodata here? well its just a comparison his schools and the schools of today- my schools. And he feels students nowadays are in a way better position, as teachers are much better now.

Right...

Heres a conversation Dad and I had today over our schooling. Dialogue time!! :)

So here I am drooling over the computer, oogling at the new Canon SX30 IS (new line digicam) and begging dad to consider buying it for me.

DAD: Why do you want it? You already have an SLR?!

ME: Arrey! We need a new digi anyways, we'll give the old one to Rati. And My SLR has hardly any zoom. I can't take bird photographs when I'm on field.

MOM: On Field!! Tum bade on field jaa rahi ho!

ME: Its high time you accepted that fact mom. Its gonna be my job. Thats what I'm gonna do.

DAD: So you can identify birds?

ME: Of course I can! What do you think?!

DAD: Bachoo, You know who I studied with at the AMU?

DAD (AND I, Simultaneously): Dr. Salim Ali

DAD: Yes, he was the head of the Zoology Dept. Absolutely crazy about birds. Mad.

ME: Well, I'am crazy about birds too!

MOM: NO beta, you're just crazy.

ME (Giving a 'Mom...Please?' look to mom , then turning to dad): No i'm serious!

DAD: (Still going on about Dr. Salim Ali): what a great person! Hardworking, Intelligent and an absolute legend!

ME: Fine! The institute (my pg college) has a great alumni too!

DAD:(laughing) Who?

ME: (Proudly): Dr. Homi Bhabha.

DAD: Who?

MOM: Hehe... He doesnt know.

ME (Incredulously): Arrey Homi Bhabha...Bhabha! BARC!

DAD: Of course I know! Accha... From the institute?

ME: Yup!

DAD: Okay...Who else?

ME: Who else?! Is this a competition?

DAD: Bolo bolo...

Okay, however 'great' my college is, it is no match to AMU. Both of us knew that.

ME: I don't know.

DAD (Enjoying this now): 'Some great science person's name' studied out of AMU, he was my senior. (this was followed by 2-3 more names.)

ME: My college is 94 years old. (Smug smile)

DAD: HAH! My college was established in around 1750! WE have a board to prove it.

ME: So what?

DAD: One of the faculty members of AMU, later went on to be the Governor of Bihar.

ME: The person who started the EVS department in our college, was the Pro-Vice Chancellor.

DAD: Hahaha! Bas? We were taught by Dr. D 'Something' and Dr 'Forgot his name' - both amazing lecturers....something about Curtin Uni.... David 'Some person's' lecture. He could speak from 8am to 5 pm, with as few as 4 breaks, lasting 5 minutes each....Something about water and glasses'... recorded his lecture tapes... the Girl was called Victoria, and i borrowed the lecture tapes from her.

You listen to such lecturers talk and you can't help but wonder, how can they speak like that.

ME: (I'm tired of the best college competition...so have given up, and we all know ISc is nothing as compared to AMU, even now) : Hahaha! you listen to my teachers, you'll start wondering too. Not in the same way though... hehehe

DAD: You feel, as if you're transported to a separate world!

ME: Yeah, I i really wish that'd happen.

DAD: You feel as if you're out of this world.

ME: We feel out of our minds.

DAD: Such greatness!

ME: Such lameness.

DAD: Betaa...aise nahi bolte.

ME: Our Director said, "Welcome to Annual day ten thousand twenty" during his speech on annual day.

DAD: Insaan se galti hoti hai. People make mistakes.

ME: Thrice?

DAD: Oh God. Thrice?

MOM: Enough. Mini, clean your room.

ME: Mom, what about your college?

Mom's studied out of G.B Panth Univeristy of Agriculture and Technology, Uttarakhand- both Under and Post grad- Mass Communication in Agriculture.

DAD (Jokingly): Arrey, wahhan kahan kuch hoga.

MOM (Menacingly): I.said. Enough.

End of topic.

Mom wins.