When I started out with this blog, I'd imagined it to be an emotional vent for me where I could truly write how I feel about personal and professional issues and anything else that affects me, all under the cloak of anonymity. I have been true to my goal in parts, but to be honest, I have held myself back on more than one occasion. Hesitation, the fear of being identified, apprehension at who's reading this blog (though I can safely narrow that down to 3 people on the whole world wide web) and in doing so I have been untrue to my motivation behind this blog.
If you think that this is one of those posts where I will fling aside my invisibility cloak and stand up straight and tell people exactly what I think of them, then you're slightly mistaken. I am not on a death-wish just yet. There are so many things I want to tell everyone, some I'd like to yell from the rooftops and some I'd like to discuss in hushed conspiratorial tones over coffee, but there still exist a billion hurdles and more. So I shall yet again disguise my truth with a liberal dose of fiction and try and get the point across subtly.
Here goes:
"She loved him. She'd loved him for as long as she could care to remember. Despite their obvious superficial differences, she loved him. He was her and around him, she too was herself. They met up regularly, addicted as they were to each other. She knew he liked her too, but sometimes the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach scared her. What if he were like the others? What if he too was bored in a bit? What if he cheated on her, used her, left her, lied to her? And a billion other (sometimes) irrational fears consumed her. But somehow, she trusted him. Completely, sometimes more than herself. Somehow, he was always right. Knew the right thing to say, to do, take the right decision and just be perfect without being righteous about it.
A couple of years into this, he realized he needed to know. He needed to know if she was the one. He'd always been a regular guy when it came to relationships. He hated being ordinary and stereotypical in any aspect, but he knew he was oh so regular when it came to commitment. An exit door was a must in every relationship and this too was no different. Shady and unfair as it was, he'd been completely honest to her about it. Marriage was not his cup of tea and he'd made it rather evident whenever possible. Its not that he didn't like her but he wasn't sure about loving her yet coz that would've implied a commitment at some level. But now he just needed to know. Without compromising on his loyalty, he met up with other ladies. Well to be fair to him, he did it while 'they' were on a break! Yet, somehow noone held his attention for too long. Some were too simple, some were way too complicated and some were simply unbearable. One morning he woke up and he just knew. It had to be her. Noone else would ever do!
He reached for his phone and called her up to meet up in the evening. It was the most unromantic way of going about it and now that he thought of it, he'd made it seem like any other conversation he had ever had with her, or anyone else for that matter. He'd made it as mundane as talking about the weather, yet somehow when he told her, he saw her smile and a single tear drop roll down her cheek. Surprisingly, he mirrored her reaction in toto. The coffee shop disappeared and there was noone but the two of them.
They spoke about it for the next few days and wondered what it wold be like living together. the actual ceremonies, the celebrations, the house they'd live in, waking up together every morn and a billion other intimate details. The joy in their hearts was for everyone to see. Even though they'd promised each other that till something concrete wasn't done, they'd not tell anyone about it, but the radiant faces were difficult to mask.
That was until they realized they'd need to talk to family. In all their exuberance, they'd forgotten a tiny detail. He was a foreigner. Convincing families on both sides was a herculean task and neither wanted to celebrate the biggest moment of their lives minus family. They promised each other that they'd stand by each other through the stormy times that lay ahead. They would speak with each other's family and try and convince them to come around. Worst case scenario, they'd wait. They swore they'd wait till their families blinked and only then would they come together.
With her hand in his, she led him to meet her folks, her heart thumping audibly. After debating for days over the strategy they would employ, they'd realized they would have to take the bull by its horns. The reaction was as anticipated, her folks hit the roof. Irrational, enraged, melodramatic, tearful; not a single emotion was left out. They held hands, bowed their heads and stood together waiting for the storm to subside. They told them time and again that they would not do anything if family did not consent and they were willing to wait for them to come around. They wanted to do this with them rather than without them, even though they had several opportunities and as consenting adults, they really did not need their permission. But they wanted to do the right thing. He squeezed her hand hoping to give her some of his own strength to bear the onslaught that she would have to face as he left them to talk. She steadied herself for what lay in store for her. She was stoic as she dodged every emotion they threw her way.
She just muttered over and over again that she would not be with him if they didn't want her to, but she would not be with anyone else either.
Its been ten years since..........and they are still waiting!!!!!!!"
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
'Weight'y Issues.
The winters have gone...Sigh!! The summers were here, but just for a bit. For the past few days the weather has been fabulous. Its nice, cloudy, windy, fresh and really invigorating. In fact, the weather has been so great that I have decided to restart with my morning run. Well, honestly, its not so much the weather as it has been other "weight"y issues. Yes, yes the north Indian winters have left an indelible mark on me; the extra 2 inches around my waist.
All through winters I have gorged on food. I gorged and gorged and gorged to the extent that I gave a higher meaning to the word "gorge". I did put on a considerable amount of weight, like there is considerable amount of water in the Pacific, but I always passed off the flab as the 3 extra layers of clothing I purported to wear through the bitter cold. Umm..confession: There was, at any any given point in time, no more than 1 layer of woolen clothing.
So basically, at the back of my head, I knew that come summer I shall either have to continue wearing the 3 layers of clothing and be hunted down as the Abominable Snowman or I would have to lose the flab. In the larger interests of world economics and the ecological balance, I have chosen the latter.
So now, each morn, I heave myself out of the cozy confines of my bed and run for about 40 minutes. It feels great.
Honestly, I've always been a superbly fit person. Agreed I've never been the anorexic thin bombshell, but I've prided myself on my fitness. A sportsperson all my life, I love the outdoors and vigorous physical sport. However, a sedentary, life consuming, and completely desk bound job does not leave me with much time or energy to follow any sport. Till some time ago I could not understand the rationale behind outdoor running. It seemed like a mindless activity. Kinda like golf, which according to me and I accept wrongly so, should not be considered a sport. I think of it as nothing more than a glorified walk in the park where you hit the ball then chase it down only to hit it further ahead and chase it again and so on and so forth. Well, running seemed kinda inane to me. That is till I actually started running. Now I'm hooked.
It is such an absolutely exhilarating experience, especially early in the morn. The Reebok campaigns about running, that seemed so warped once upon a time, now make sense. You have to actually run to be able to fathom what it feels like.
So basically, I am running. I am not losing any weight coz I still gorge, but yeah, I'm running and I love it.
All through winters I have gorged on food. I gorged and gorged and gorged to the extent that I gave a higher meaning to the word "gorge". I did put on a considerable amount of weight, like there is considerable amount of water in the Pacific, but I always passed off the flab as the 3 extra layers of clothing I purported to wear through the bitter cold. Umm..confession: There was, at any any given point in time, no more than 1 layer of woolen clothing.
So basically, at the back of my head, I knew that come summer I shall either have to continue wearing the 3 layers of clothing and be hunted down as the Abominable Snowman or I would have to lose the flab. In the larger interests of world economics and the ecological balance, I have chosen the latter.
So now, each morn, I heave myself out of the cozy confines of my bed and run for about 40 minutes. It feels great.
Honestly, I've always been a superbly fit person. Agreed I've never been the anorexic thin bombshell, but I've prided myself on my fitness. A sportsperson all my life, I love the outdoors and vigorous physical sport. However, a sedentary, life consuming, and completely desk bound job does not leave me with much time or energy to follow any sport. Till some time ago I could not understand the rationale behind outdoor running. It seemed like a mindless activity. Kinda like golf, which according to me and I accept wrongly so, should not be considered a sport. I think of it as nothing more than a glorified walk in the park where you hit the ball then chase it down only to hit it further ahead and chase it again and so on and so forth. Well, running seemed kinda inane to me. That is till I actually started running. Now I'm hooked.
It is such an absolutely exhilarating experience, especially early in the morn. The Reebok campaigns about running, that seemed so warped once upon a time, now make sense. You have to actually run to be able to fathom what it feels like.
So basically, I am running. I am not losing any weight coz I still gorge, but yeah, I'm running and I love it.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
"Kooky"!!!
The other day, well friday actually, i was sitting with Boy and Boy's family and enjoying a nice quiet dinner. 'S' called from 2 houses away and insisted on going out that night. Since I love 'S' almost as much as I love Boy, I couldn't say no, even though I was rather comfily sprawled with a satiated stomach and it was about 10 in the night. Anyhow, I got Boy to come along and since we couldn't get anyone else at the last moment, S, Boy and me headed out.
S had been suggested to visit a place called Kuki. When she told me I first wondered if the place was called "Cookie", coz that was a warped name for a night club. Then i wondered if it was "Kooky" coz that didn't inspire too much confidence either. Finally I was told its spelt "KUKI"I was appalled. I would rather it be called something else, coz "Kuki" sounds like a boisterous Punjabi auntie. I wasn't too sure if I wanted to go there, I knew for a fact that boy didnt want to, considering he doesnt drink and/ or dance. (sometimes I wonder what he's doing with me, but that is completely separate post altogether)
So the three of us went up to kuki. The location, polite valets were all very impressive. So we didnt think too much about a 2k cover charge redeemable against drinks inside. When we the entered the place, I knew it should've been called Kooky instead. 3 floors, placed one above the other with an open space running through and through till the ground floor. 4 clusters of seating arrangements with white leatherite, no backrests, abysmally small centre tables and really warped interiors. Note to interior designers here: You appreciate that there is a very fine line between making a place look chic in red and making it look like a brothel. Kuki, unfortunately almost made it to the latter. Trance music was blaring from all corners with white smoke billowing out of a smoke machine on the first floor. A red butterfly motif suspended down the centre of the place completed the look.
We all tried rather hard to conceal our disappointment/ disgust but failed miserably. Alcohol was the solution and just when we had our hearts set on some nice cocktails, we were informed by an ill mannered, uneducated, ill informed server that the cover charges did not apply to cocktails. we then moved on to good ol Grey Goose, when the waiter told us that this too would not be covered and the charges were redeemable only against IMFL. Of course, needless to add, IMFL's were not being served that night. When S looked like she was gonna pounce on the waiter and kill him or storm to the guy who conned us outside, the poor waiter hurriedly agreed to serve us cocktails.
Slowly a bit of a crowd started trickling in. But either the place was hosting a costume party or a homo sexual party of sorts coz for chrissake one weirdo weirder than the previous one was walking in. Boy, S and I sat back, looked around, shook our heads in absolute disbelief and buried ourselves into our respective drinks. Then some vague magazine was hosting some warped event there (probably the Costume Party) and the "Event" was being covered by a vaguer news channel. As if the psychedelic red lights weren't bad enough, we now had to deal with glaring yellow lights and flashbulbs going off in our faces.
S decided to order some food, since the alcohol didnt seem to be doing too much for us. we ordered for some chicken on skewers served with hummus. The menu priced it at Rs. 450/- exclusive of taxes of course. When the dish came, it had 3 skewers with a cumulative of six pieces of chicken. S looked the waiter in the eye and asked him if he was kidding with us. Now i am not someone who always goes for food that gives value for money, but even I was scandalized. This place was a bloody joke.
We paid our bill...exited hurriedly and swore never to come back again.
S feels guilty as hell..with good reason if I may add, but real culprit, the one who's idea it was to begin with and who suggested the place to S is sitting far away, unafffected by the traumatic effect that one evening had on all of us. I think vendetta is in order!!!
Kuki has gone completely Kooky and its best if its rechristened.
S had been suggested to visit a place called Kuki. When she told me I first wondered if the place was called "Cookie", coz that was a warped name for a night club. Then i wondered if it was "Kooky" coz that didn't inspire too much confidence either. Finally I was told its spelt "KUKI"I was appalled. I would rather it be called something else, coz "Kuki" sounds like a boisterous Punjabi auntie. I wasn't too sure if I wanted to go there, I knew for a fact that boy didnt want to, considering he doesnt drink and/ or dance. (sometimes I wonder what he's doing with me, but that is completely separate post altogether)
So the three of us went up to kuki. The location, polite valets were all very impressive. So we didnt think too much about a 2k cover charge redeemable against drinks inside. When we the entered the place, I knew it should've been called Kooky instead. 3 floors, placed one above the other with an open space running through and through till the ground floor. 4 clusters of seating arrangements with white leatherite, no backrests, abysmally small centre tables and really warped interiors. Note to interior designers here: You appreciate that there is a very fine line between making a place look chic in red and making it look like a brothel. Kuki, unfortunately almost made it to the latter. Trance music was blaring from all corners with white smoke billowing out of a smoke machine on the first floor. A red butterfly motif suspended down the centre of the place completed the look.
We all tried rather hard to conceal our disappointment/ disgust but failed miserably. Alcohol was the solution and just when we had our hearts set on some nice cocktails, we were informed by an ill mannered, uneducated, ill informed server that the cover charges did not apply to cocktails. we then moved on to good ol Grey Goose, when the waiter told us that this too would not be covered and the charges were redeemable only against IMFL. Of course, needless to add, IMFL's were not being served that night. When S looked like she was gonna pounce on the waiter and kill him or storm to the guy who conned us outside, the poor waiter hurriedly agreed to serve us cocktails.
Slowly a bit of a crowd started trickling in. But either the place was hosting a costume party or a homo sexual party of sorts coz for chrissake one weirdo weirder than the previous one was walking in. Boy, S and I sat back, looked around, shook our heads in absolute disbelief and buried ourselves into our respective drinks. Then some vague magazine was hosting some warped event there (probably the Costume Party) and the "Event" was being covered by a vaguer news channel. As if the psychedelic red lights weren't bad enough, we now had to deal with glaring yellow lights and flashbulbs going off in our faces.
S decided to order some food, since the alcohol didnt seem to be doing too much for us. we ordered for some chicken on skewers served with hummus. The menu priced it at Rs. 450/- exclusive of taxes of course. When the dish came, it had 3 skewers with a cumulative of six pieces of chicken. S looked the waiter in the eye and asked him if he was kidding with us. Now i am not someone who always goes for food that gives value for money, but even I was scandalized. This place was a bloody joke.
We paid our bill...exited hurriedly and swore never to come back again.
S feels guilty as hell..with good reason if I may add, but real culprit, the one who's idea it was to begin with and who suggested the place to S is sitting far away, unafffected by the traumatic effect that one evening had on all of us. I think vendetta is in order!!!
Kuki has gone completely Kooky and its best if its rechristened.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)