Monday, 26 November 2007


She walks in pretending to be full of confidence while there is trepidation inside. And sees a sea of people milling around her. They have all come for the same thing. She comes out clutching a bag in her hands, clutching her dreams in her hands.

As she decides to go back home, by habit, she switches on the radio and hears

I don’t want to ever feel like I did that day
Take me to the place I love, take me all the way

It is a sign. After all, she remembers how she felt a few moons ago. She doesn’t want to feel like that ever. She knows where she wants to go. She silently prays that she gets there. That the dream becomes a reality.


In other news, this was my WTF moment of the day

Update: Wise Donkee has an interesting point about it here
Uropinion has an interesting poem here

Friday, 23 November 2007

Marriages are made in… banks

Ever since the ‘marriage season’ has begun, almost every day I get to hear stories of marriages been stopped because the dowry demand increased on the wedding day.

I was talking to someone yesterday who told me how for 8 lakhs they were getting a groom who was only in a Government job and not that good looking. And they couldn’t ‘afford’ a groom for 15 lakhs even though he was an engineer and quite decent looking.

This bit of information left me quite disgusted. Now really, are marriages equivalent to trading? Or maybe it’s a bit like an auction house. You bring out the goods and people start naming the price till the prized possession is bought.

I pity the parents of the girl who want to ‘sell’ her to a good groom and I pity the groom’s family who greedily extend their hands to get some money. Though this trend is prevalent across the country, I can’t imagine why educated people should restore to this? NRI grooms to HRD Minister Arjun Singh to common man.

Anyway, while doing research for a news story I came across this wonderful website. Do check it out. Maybe all hope is not lost…

Monday, 19 November 2007

Lots of Random Stuff

When you are greeted with sniffles, sore throat, coughs and smog filled mornings, winters have offically arrived. Not to forget sitting in the sun on a lazy sunday morning, curled up in the satellite (I have a name for my easy chair!), reading a book, snacking and then dozing off with birds chirping in the background. The bliss combined with peace of mind means I am ready to tackle the week ahead.

Was surfing the web and came across this post by Sepia Mutiny. I always suspected something was wrong with the Times of India website. Now my fears have been confirmed.
And heard this amazing song called 'Ban the Police' which I have been humming since the last few days. Has it been officially released? Do check it out. And here are the lyrics.

Thursday, 15 November 2007

Battle Of The Sexes

The discussion started with my male colleague saying how women look ‘better’ in traditional roles like cleaning, cooking, tidying the house.

He went on to say that they shouldn’t think they were equal to a man because they were stepping out of their homes to earn. It was a man’s job and the women should just earn enough to satisfy their ‘shauk’ of earning. Otherwise success goes straight to their head and they think they become good decision makers while in reality that’s not the case. On top of it they refuse (oh my god what a felony) to cook food everyday, expect the husband to help around the home and change diapers sometimes too!

His attitude made me see red. And I am no raging feminist. Maybe I am just spoilt by the men in my life – My father and my male friends who think very different from the colleague.

As I vehemently opposed to everything he had to say, he thinks I will never find a ‘good’ husband. Or maybe a man tied to my pallu (not that I wear a sari ever!). And when I said that a man secure enough to be a man will probably never think like this, he said I was dreaming on. Before the debate could end in a fist fight (I know my karate punches and blocks) or a shouting match, I went back to work.

I leave this open to debate - Do men think that women should not have ambitions. That they should sit at home and make babies. And the man, with the virtue of been born a man will always be correct?

And I know that maybe largely people in this country think like this but to encounter such a man who is educated, has a working wife and lives in Urban India, to think like this is a bit weird.

Tell me what you feel.


On a completely different note, I had my ROFL moment of the day when Paris Hilton turned into an activist!

Monday, 12 November 2007

Childhood Memories

A few days ago, a colleague was sitting next to me and he suddenly said, “You remind me of Parle G today.” I just gave him a confused look.

Some days later, he walked past me and remarked, “Chewing gum, today.”

Just two days back another one said, “Hmmm…. Something in the air just reminded me of vanilla icecream.”

And that’s when I burst out laughing. My new body lotion is vanilla scented and every time someone gets a whiff of it, it reminds them of some childhood ‘food memory’ or the other.

The story behind buying it is also very interesting. I was looking to buy a body lotion for myself and as I sniffed through a whole range of them, this particular one leapt out at me and the smell of it was very comforting. I never read the label saying ‘Vanilla scented’. But I was drawn to the smell and I instinctively brought it.

Its interesting how certain smells can transport us back to time.

In fact every time I pass through Lutyen’s Delhi, a tree which has pungent smelling leaves always reminds me of Elaichi Cream biscuits I used to eat as a child. Do any of you remember the biscuit in green and white wrapper? I used to wonder how anyone can have a biscuit making factory in this elite area of Delhi until it hit me that it was the tree doing the tricks on my senses.

On another note, yesterday I managed to get my hand on some cigarettes while my mother looked on lovingly as I bought not one, not two but five packets. And told the shopkeeper, very sheepishly that they were not for me but for my niece and nephew. It was time to induct them into the family tradition.

Before you get scandalized, I’ll let you know I am talking about sweet cigarettes. Every summer I would visit my grandmother in the dusty Hindi speaking heartland of India. And one novelty (which is produced in Delhi but never sold here!) were those white peppermint sticks in a red and white packet.

And since I was there for a day, I decided to indulge myself.

On this note, the evil me is going to start a tag. Which is your favourite childhood smell and favourite childhood sweet and why.

I tag-


Go on and tag five more people.

Sunday, 4 November 2007

The OCD!

I am one of those people who procastinate till the last moment to clean up the room/ desk/ drawer etc. I wait till the pile of objects becomes a mountain. And since half my family has the neat-freak OCD it is war time at home (this story is for another post).

My desk at work bears the brunt of this all the time. All the papers strewn around give an impression how busy I am reading all those newspapers, articles etc. (Yeah right!)

Well a few days ago, the AC maintenance guys came for their quarterly checkup. Now half the duct is right on top of my desk and as soon as he opened it, a few dead insects landed in the corner (where-things-go-only-if-they-have-to-be-retrieved-once-an-year) on top of Time magazine and other sundry stuff.

Did I care to clean my desk? No. I just took the magazine, dusted the insects into the dustbin and kept it back.

A few days later, every time I would move a paper or reach out for my namkeen packet (which is on the opposite side of the desk) I would find a dead insect. I threw the nameek.

Things really hit rock bottom when I couldn't find my post-it notes ka packet. And its not not even in either corners. It was supposed to be somewhere in the middle of the damn table.

So this Friday, clean the desk abhiyaan took place.

And I heartlessly threw papers in the dustbin. Asked the newspapers to be put in the right place in the library. Organized my books by type, size, need, importance . Organized my magazines the same way. Organized my papers the same way. Organized my stationery the same way. Organized other sundry things the same way.

And realized the 'neat freak' genes have been passed on to me as well. Its just that they need some shaking up (and dead insects) to get into action!

Update (07/11/07): Wishing everyone a Happy Diwali.