Another year, another year older. December 7, 2009

I am in my early 20’s, soon to be over the other side in a couple of years. I’m not the responsible type that the world expects from me today. I am passionate about my career, work hard at everything I do and spend most of my walking life trying to make my mark on the world that does not include a carbon footprint. But it is not my time to be successful yet.

I cannot buy luxuries without letting go of another need for that month. I cannot go food shopping and just pull out everything off the shelves. It will be years before I can purchase anything from Home Store or Atmosphere without redoing my budget. No, it is not my turn yet.

I can’t rent a car without worrying about insurance and I can’t buy one as I would have to worry more. I am lodged in “irresponsibility limbo”. My parents can’t bail me out of difficult situations, neither can my savings. I don’t have savings.

I can not apply for “a loan” because I’m sure I won’t get the amount I want and even if I do, I don’t want to be “alone” when I go delinquent on my payments. Not that I will. It’s still the time, where soup is the main course of my meal. I am okay living in my 2-bedroom apartment, although I’d rather stretch out in front of a larger 3 bedroom apartment, with a beautiful view. But it is okay, it’s not like I can afford the furniture. It isn’t my time.

I look at friends and colleagues around me who are several years older, what with their bank balances and wonderful jobs and party lifestyle and that encourages me. Some of them still have the problems I do and that frightens me. If there was a way to know that everything would be okay 5-10 years down the line, I would be fine. But there is a chance that it won’t, that and the poorly insulated windows is what keep me up at night.

The real reason why drinking is allowed at 21 is because the years out of college when all these thoughts occur, they are best remembered if they are NOT remembered. Employers had the habit of employing based on experience rather than ability. So it was a dog-eat-dog world skimming for that first job. But I had hardened myself. I was eating soup near poorly insulated windows, remember?

So yes, once I move past this situation, it then goes onto be a struggle with a husband, kids, and a house. And then educating the kids on the struggle they have to go through. The cycle continues.

Writing this post, I wanted an outlet for all my fears and support those going through the same, and those who are preparing themselves for it. Funnily enough, my struggle doesn’t lie with my career, my social circles or my soup, my struggle was with my inability to accept that it wasn’t my turn to be successful yet. This is my time to struggle and work hard, and sacrifice and save while I still have the ability to do it. And then patiently wait for my turn.

35 things you didnt know about me…until now… November 25, 2009

35 more Random Things about Me:

1. I hate kids! I mean at least the annoying ones… I never want to have any of my own…Cus im sure if I do they’d be as rebellious and disobedient as I am and their first word will be “fuck!”

2. I smoke. (So f*cking what?)

3. I have a shoe fetish. Sneakers, pumps, stilettos whatever. I am their number one biggest fan. Buy me an expensive pretty pair and I’m your slave!!

4. I love shredding machines. The destruction it can do, silently! I think its cause we’re so alike that I love it.

5. I taught myself how to cook. I was raised by my maid as my folks worked all day long. Her.cooking.was.appalling. I either had to teach myself to cook or die of food poisoning. I started before I could even climb high enough. I am a fantastic cook.

6. I am 23 and I still don’t have a bike’s license. Shocking I know.

7. Angelina Jolie annoys the living FUCK out of me. I refuse to watch a movie that has her in it. That poncey pout of hers just makes me want to punch her in the mouth and give her a proper fat lip.

8. I love Jackass. I have a box-set of the DVDs I borrowed from a friend last year. I doubt she’ll ever get them back. I can watch them over and over and over and still think it’s just as funny as the first time.

9. I am a sucker for promotions. Give me a free sample of your product, and I’m likely to buy it. Even if I don’t need it.

10. My current product-related obsession Herbal Essences. I think I must have the entire range!! Every time I go to the shops I get more. I can’t help myself.

11. I am left handed. I cannot even brush my teeth with my right hand, let alone wash my behind!
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12. I love hair bands. I wear them all the time when im at home.

13. I love to eat. If I can find anything that’s edible and interesting, ill try it out! Im adventurous like that! The worst I’ve eaten is Camel hump!! *puke*

14. Those prada handbag creations are also a big YAY for me. Love those too. My friend bought a yellow metal one. Don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life.

15. I hate my current hairstyle. The hairdresser fucked it up. But I was too polite to have a shit-fit about it.

16. I love French fries dipped in ice-cream. I won’t eat fries any other way.

17. I have never read a ‘Hardy Boys’ or ‘Babysitter’s Club’ book in my life. While my friends were reading those in the 5th grade I was reading John Grisham.

18. I hated Biology at school. Dropped it at the end of 9th grade and took Math instead. I find that funny, because in Grade 1 I remember winning the bio / science prize. But then again – how hard is it to believe the world is round?

19. if I ever get pregnant, ill have just one, it my other half wants another, he can have it when he can carry it for 9 months!!

20. I only brush my teeth twice a day.

21. The view from window is the street and pan sellers. Welcome to Mumbai. I am originally from Bahrain. I miss everything about it except the unbearable heat, not humidity.

22. I love rock music. 3 Doors Down make me weak at the knees. AR Rahman and Yanni make me want to vomit.

23. I would rather eat crisps than sweets and chocolate. I don’t like chocolate that much. But I can punish a good bag of Lays.

24. TGIF’s steak & Red Box’s pasta is bloody close to my idea of heaven in a jar.

25. I love The Body Shop. Their Brazil nut products smell like fudge.

26. I have no grandfathers alive. But I do have 1 grand-mother still living. Although she’s living with the fairies and its time for her to go…soon!

27. I have one younger sister, who I’d protect with my life, unless im the one killing her

28. I like to stare at people in elevators. It makes them uncomfortable.

29. I hate seeing dirty nails or toe nails. It shows uncleanliness!!

30. I need at least 2 pillows to sleep on at night!

31. I have recently developed a fondness for Corona & Lime. The drink and the song! I wasn’t a very big fan, but now I can’t get enough. The same with Cranberry juice

32. I love reading the agony aunt section and sex advice section in magazines and newspapers. I love reading about other people’s problems. Be honest, you do too!

33. I hate watching sports like show jumping, ice skating, gymnastics or synchronized swimming on TV. Give me rugby and golf and soccer and I’m glued to the screen. Especially soccer.

34. I prefer showering to bathing. Bathing is too lazy I might drown in my own bath tub!

35. I have a seriously foul vocabulary. Yet I cannot talk dirty. I can use words like ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ as swear words, but ask me to use them in an erotic fashion, and I go all shy.
My favorite swearword right now is ‘dickweed’. I know, it’s appalling.
//


And then there are times i miss home… November 14, 2009

In good times and bad…. November 11, 2009

This was a post written somewhere last month that I saved somewhere and did not find till this evening! I wrote it at a time when I was completely depressed and did not know what to do. No one could tell my depression, I put on a mask and shrouded myself with being sarcastic and indulging in lame humour.

I hate that I can pull of fake laughter and no one will get it, not even those closest to me. But life does fall apart and it does put me down. And it hurts when it kicks you in the nuts, even if you don’t have a pair.

But then sitting in my solitude, I decided to be thankful for life’s little moments. Everyday stuff that makes you smile, or seems funny in hindsight. And after I was done, it didn’t seem so bad anymore. I’ve inherited my dad’s genes of being a trooper, so I just sucked it up and went on with life.

So as I sat there, I remembered how many of us sniff our armpits to check for body odor. While that is okay, why do we do it in public view? In front of everyone, and then pretend we were stretching or reaching behind when we get caught. It’s funny.

Or trip up in public and then pretend like we were jogging or suddenly thought of a brilliant dance move. It doesn’t make you look like a jock or an amazing dancer. People will laugh anyway, why not fall and just make them laugh anyway?

How about the time, you’re standing up against the bar, acting suave and all that and the hottest person waves at you while walking towards you. Yea, you have that “I’m going to get lucky tonight” feeling, until he/she turns away 2 feet short of you and hugs the person she waved at. If there are friends around you, it can be embarrassing. More so, when you try to salvage the situation and walk up to a random person and try to make conversation. Solution: Never look anyone in the eye, it avoids strangers asking you for directions too. Mighty helpful.

Related: Someone catches you talking to yourself. There is no PROPER way to save face for this. You can’t sing or hum. You will just seem retarded. Also please let me know if you find a way to save yourself when someone walks into the room and catches you talking to yourself, saying “My god! (so and so’s) penis is huge!”

Or when walking up stairs in the dark and you aren’t entirely sure when you’ve reached the top but decide to lunge for that step anyway? Funny shit, I always end up doing it and stubbing my toes. I’m uncertain if doing that going up the stairs or down the stairs is more painful. Or funnier, when you get to the bottom, you do that feel-in-the-dark thing with your foot… but if you are like me, you just take the step anyway and land on your knees!

How about the time, you’re at a party and you’re trying to tell you’re best friend about the boy that slept with you and was being an asshole. The music is so loud, you need to yell. Just when you shout “ (Insert appropriate jerk name here) has the smallest penis ever!!” the music stops, silence settles and all eyes are on you. Pity if (insert appropriate jerk name here) is also at the party.

And someone please tell me, what are we to do about wedgies, I bunked that class in school. Is there a set protocol? I’ve searched and googled and yahooed (the search engine, not exclamation!) and failed miserably. I guess WE REALLY ARE ALONE on this one.  Either you be yourself and just go ahead and pick it out of your ass, or jiggle a little and hope it “wedges” its way out on its own, magically. OR do what I do – Don’t wear any underwear.

There’s so many more small things we tend to overlook, just because we get embarrassed and what not, but the truth is, it’s the small things that matter. For me, they do.

 

 

My highs and my lows… November 10, 2009

So my blog has been ignored and I need to keep up with it, else it’s gonna leave my sorry ass. But since I have been writing lately, a lot might I add, I just did not have the time for this. Life’s finally getting back on track, I have a job I love, people around me that I adore.

I do not think this can get any better. Ok, maybe it could. But I am a little more optimistic that I was. It hasn’t always been easy and it’s at time like those that I tend to pen down random thoughts. Stuff that makes me laugh, cry, smile. ALL AT THE SAME FRIGGIN TIME!

Like the fact that I laugh, inwardly when I fart. (YES, women DO fart.) And I also laugh at the other’s too, I don’t want to be selfish. What can I say? Our earth is habited by people who think that is funny, and those who think I’m disgusting. Both reactions make me laugh harder, snort and fart. Again.

Sitting in the luxury of our air conditioned buses, I caught my co-passenger throwing me gagging looks as I picked my nose. Aww, c’mon its not like you have NEVER done it. Sometimes the booger is so faaaaar inside, a tissue will JUST not work. Besides, that’s the ONLY gold I will be able to dig for. Leave me be, also, I wash my hands…eventually.

I sleep with a pillow. Not on one, WITH one. Yes, I maybe a 20-something, but I do. I’ve been made fun off, regaled or whatever and I DONT CARE! Because I am not afraid to embrace my inner child, which is a pillow.

I write EVERYTHING down. It could be a random shop sign. BUT I WILL WRITE IT. It makes me happy, it makes me remember fun things. It helps me write. Maybe it’s a product of living alone or venturing out on my own, although I’m rather sociable, I love when I can sit and write in complete silence. That to me, is sex.

I think it takes skill to be abrupt and I love it.

I have to wash my feet before I do ANYTHING. Wanna meet me for lunch? No, don’t worry I showered this morning, but I need to wash my feet. Market, sure, let me just wash my feet and be there. Sex? Haha, no.

Are you done ranting about the Wall Project? October 29, 2009

Once upon a time…. (Not at band camp), the BMC of Mumbai woke and decided to let its citizens paint walls to beautify the city. All ages put aside weekend plans and came forward, joined hands and painted in scorching temperatures just so that they could do their bit for their city. Thus the “Wall Project” was christened.

The response was overwhelming which led to phase two. Again, many ages, colors and kinds came forward; even new faces who felt they missed the opportunity the last time to participate came forward. Bearing the soaring temperatures, they toiled hard to ensure, their little wall in a gigantic city was pretty and a piece of themselves, regardless of what they painted.

Less than 24 hours later, social networking site Twitter was in a frenzy over the fact that pending movie releases promoters ( Aladin, Gair, Canvas, London Dreams) had stuck their posters all over a few walls even before the paint could dry.

They raised a hue and cry with users ranting in 140 characters to the actors, directors and so on from these movies . Complaining of disrespect and disregard. A few of these ranters belonged to the media and were quick to print articles and take quotes from disgruntled youth. A few even threatened to boycott the movies altogether.

We were loud enough that a few members from one of the movies apologized profusely and promised to take action. In the meantime a petition was set up to stop such acts of vandalism from happening again.

Now, here’s where I stop the story and put in my two cents. Fair enough we disliked the fact that “our” art could be posted over by some random film posters less than 24 hours of the painting. My issue is, while the film fraternity does have some say in this, how many of you know who sticks these posters up? How many of you know whether the walls in that area are authorized to stick bills or not? How many of you know that they employ young boys as cheap labor and get these children to keep up late nights so that they can make a quick buck by pasting posters?

What are you doing about that? Is it because they are not your concern you don’t do anything? Is it because the film fraternity paid them that the film house should be targeted? While I condemn the vandalization, I do not blame the movie directors, actors or producers solely. I blame the promotion companies, they know where the authorized and un-authorized areas are. I think our film fraternity needs to be stringent with their promoters.

Our business should not be to care whether a bunch of actors came and painted a symbol from their movie on a wall. Our business should not be that they were doing it as publicity. Our business should definitely not be to worry over their TRP’s. Our business should be that unauthorized sticking of posters, bills etc be condemned and stopped.

How hypocritical can we be to say they made this a publicity stunt? Didn’t we take our voices to the media too? Didn’t our friends amongst the media write out stories?

How hypocritical of us to think of maiming the wall painted by the only film crew that offered to help? Arent we just lowering ourselves to that level? Doesnt that take us back to square one?

Why should they inform our producers or directors of the posters that were put up? The issue lies in the promoters hands… All the other directors and producers were definitely accessed by media, they refused to respond, why lash out at the team that did. Shame on you! Who cares what kind of reporters they invited, the stories or their statements would be the same. There are millions of questions unanswered. And we can keep asking them, but then how much are we doing for our community?

Yes, I was present this morning, as Vishal, Shekar, Sujoy, Jacqueline and Ritesh painted that wall. It was insensitive on their part to paint a lamp, and I do not believe they did it without realizing it. But here’s where we stand right now, we created a humdrum about the vandalization, we blamed the film fraternity for “spoiling” our walls and we then ranted when the first available team responded almost instantaneously.  What next? Our issue still stands that posters, bills are being stuck in unauthorized areas.

Earlier this morning, Vishal, Sujoy and Shekhar admitted that such acts are wrong. But they did not stop there, they assured that we can take this movement forward and we will have their support. We will get the leverage we need to ensure such acts don’t “deface” our city.

Now, I’d like to see, how many of you ranters and media people actually take this forward, you have the promise of a fight, you have a petition sent out by Vishal.

WILL YOU ACTUALLY FOLLOW THROUGH? Or once your humdrum of being an angry young man/woman persona is gone so will the cause? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?

Time to take a break… October 5, 2009

I usually don’t do forwards or crap like that, but this morning when i received this particular poem, i just had to share it.

So often we get so caught up in our lives, we forget to smell the daisies, or be thankful for the little things that we have. We tend to concentrate more on the material things and our desire to acquire worldly material objects that will not enrich us in the long run.

This was written by a young girl who was diagnosed with cancer. I don’t know if she survived it or not, but her poem was something i needed to share.

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain

Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

Do you run through each day

On the fly?

When you ask How are you?

Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done

Do you lie in your bed

With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?

You’d better slow down

Don’t dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

Ever told your child,

We’ll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste,

Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time

To call and say,’Hi’

You’d better slow down.

Don’t dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won’t last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere

You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,

It is like an unopened gift….
Thrown away.

Life is not a race.

Do take it slower

Hear the music

Before the song is over.

Piece of shit. October 3, 2009

It’s not like i would have attended it. I wouldn’t even have wanted to be invited or asked to come for moral support. But a short line, or post it would have been nice, just so i knew.

Social networking sites seems to make our online existence a boon. The bane though is when you discover an ex is getting married. How? Through FB. How did i find out about the engagement? Through FB. Again.

So what, if the relationship we had was nothing major? So what if we havent met in awhile (1 year to be exact). I have known him for the longest time ever. We shared a fun friendship! And we talked about all sorts of things. If he had the comfort to tell me he had syphilis, i doubt marriage would be a deadlier disease!

I remember how i broke down when we had a major fight. And how he said (through email) that i was the skankiest girl he knew. He wasnt getting any ass out of me. I remember when he told me how we needed to stop being friends as he had a new girlfriend.

I even was supportive enough to meet the bitch. I had to pretend to like her. For those of you who know me, know how hard it is for me to pretend and what a terrible actor i am. So next best thing? Get drunk! It was easier after that!

I remember going to the bar getting myself a drink, turning around to find the leaning against the pool table playing tonsil-hockey. Dashing to the loo so i could puke my guts out. When i returned i was all smiles *anothercosmopolitanplease* and back to being my regular drunk fun-self  *anotherdoublescotchontherocksplease* and endless witty phrases. *Iwantmorescotchontherockswithouttherocksplease* The evening ended with a slurry version of ” i hope to see you again, ho.” or something to that effect.

I don’t think of him much now. I have happiness in life and i know how silly i was to feel that way, considering it really never was love.

But you know what sux?

THAT FUCKIN’ FACEBOOK HAS TO TELL ME YOU’RE MARRIED!!!

She is New September 19, 2009

She rose from ashes and succumbed to it. She had heard of his magic and wanted to touch. She feared she’d burn herself again, her heart would not let go. She wanted to see him, feel him, and touch him. She felt anew.

The time had come, she went to receive him. He was lost in a crowd of millions. She wanted to see him first. Her heart leapt. The butterflies ate her insides. She searched for him. He for her. And then she saw him, it was new.

They embraced, their hearts entwined. It seemed like forever. She was new. He let go, looked into her eyes. She moved forward, kissed him. The world stopped. She was new. She is new.

He could not understand it. She was in awe. He was beautiful. She wanted him. He, her. The clasped hands and walked in silence, allowing their emotions to die down. They wouldn’t. This was the first time they met. This was new.

They drove home. Her home. To be his. They hugged when inside. It was magical. She was a virgin, she was glad she waited. He lay her down, brushed her hair away… caressed her body. She arched her body to touch his… feeling his touch. They made love. She was new.

She took him out that morning, to explore. She wanted to explore him. She was in love. He held her ever so carefully, like glass. She yearned for him. Their bodies for each other. They watched movies, lying in each others arms. They walked along the rocks, through the bustling city, through snide remarks and comments. They heard nothing. She was new. This was new.

He left the next morning, he wanted her. She wanted him. She never felt this way about anyone. This was her forever. Her heart wandered. It followed his.

She remembered. She is new.

Because i have the best friends in the world… August 29, 2009

I hate working on Saturdays, I need an outlet. I need someway to forget it was a Saturday and get through the 10-6 work timing. Inevitably, my best/closest friend decided to call up. Simple pleasures, really.

We got talking; it’s been about 3 weeks since we last spoke about anything. And it felt like years, but he’s a darling. We gossip. Oh, we gossip. Like I said a few days ago, if gossip was beer in our conversations, we would be wasted all the time. So we were talking about fashion, boys and the girl who’s giving him hell. Vaguely. He didn’t even remember her name and when I did remind him, he replied, “That’s a whore’s name.”

He was in a store buying mousse; the yucky ucky over fermented malt concoction. I know he hates it. He told me he was buying it for Satan. The girl he’s seeing, that he likes but hates that she wants anal ALL THE TIME. But seriously. Is there any “other” kind of butt sex apart from SURPRISE butt sex? His response to a woman’s orgasm? “I hate it when the woman cries out “OH MOTHER of GOD YEAH IN MY VAGINAAAAAAAA!!” He also went on to say he hates his idea’s being robbed. Penis in Vagina sex was his idea. He also stands firm when he says that naked women should do anything a man wearing clothes says.

I told him about my recent fascination with ice dancing. He made fun of me and called me queer. I said I was going to buy him skates and send it to him, so he can try it sometime. He asked me to save some money and buy a unicorn or “whatever you girls spend your money on.” Idiot.

I reminded him my birthday’s drawing close and that I wanted something pretty. He was very polite when he told me that he’ll get HIMSELF something PRETTY and let me play with it. Idiot. Again. I pondered over what his girlfriend saw in him. He thinks it was his big penis. “But she hadn’t see your penis when she first met you.” He assured me it was his huge penis, they were at a bar and he took it out to play pool. It’s apparently a sure shot party trick to getting laid.

He wants to buy a pet. He’s confused between dogs and rabbits. He says he’d buy a bunch of rabbits if they weren’t stupid. He finds them annoying because they chew extension cords. “So do you!” I pointed out. For him apparently, it’s a religious obligation. I was taken aback, “What’s you religion?” He wasn’t allowed to tell others. He told me he knew I was an outsider, because I don’t chew extension wires.

I was online and he asked if I would order something for him from eBay. I said no. He then told me he’s going to invent a scrumptious sandwich and name it after me. He would call it “bitchburger.” He then proceeded to tell me how he chooses gifts for friends at Christmas. He always gets them gifts he would like to receive. He’s buying me a gun.

I told him about the new house, and how I desperately need a washing machine with two baskets so I can do the laundry all at once. He disagrees saying that ill only be able to wash tiny pieces of cloth. He obviously doesn’t understand the math. My head hurts; I tell him it’s buzzing. He thinks it’s probably from the bomb he planted in my brain, if I ever stop being best friends with him,

He digresses. He likes crazy girls in bed. I reminded him, that they can bite of wieners too. He feels sick. He thinks America’s next top model is high drama at a brothel. He also asked me if I take sex as a pay back for the money he owes me.

I remembered why he was my friend. I lost a bet. A small part of him was manufactured at the RETARD factory. I told him of my brush in with a common friend who grabbed my ass at a club recently. He threatened to break his hands, but then remember the said person was gay. So he decided to spare him, he asked “If I break xxxxx hands, how will he sew?”

I needed to get back to work. He ended it with telling me his most urgent wish. He wanted a course on unintelligent design. So he could pay a wasted guy to design the universe and explain flightless birds.