Enjoying boredom

Niyati (one of those five college friends I keep mentioning) sparked of this post. She labeled a picture she shared "happiness is enjoying boredom". 

Sometimes when I am in the company of people I get extremely bored these days. Usually when I am alone (my husband with me counts as me alone) I hardly ever get bored. 

I asked him the other day, while I did some sweeping and swabbing, "What do people think off in their head when they are doing work?". Because usually your mind can be free to think. His insightful thought was that if you can concentrate only on that moment.. the playing out of what is happening this very instant.. now.. then it is a form of meditation.. mindfulness. What we try to attain through regulated breathing is to clear the mind of thoughts and bring awareness in the body. If you can be fully aware of your entire being at any particular moment or alternatively lose yourself while doing something at that precise moment then you reach that heightened state which is meditation in a way.

Our mind is a storehouse of possibilities.  As we go through life we sometimes forget to let our minds talk or our hearts feel. Some lucky days I sit barefoot on the grass in my garden and feel the tender blades of grass under my feet. Feel the dew drop as I walk across a patch of wet grass. Shiver as the temperature drops slightly just as those wispy clouds move over and screen the overhead sun partly. Let the scent of the flowers reach my not at all keen nose. I see the small ant carrying that invisible piece of food with him. The breeze blows and trees rustle. Some black birds fly out of the nearby dense green shrub and land on the cable wire that crosses just behind my yard. I close my eyes and the tingling melody of wind chimes falls on my ears. A shadow flits across the far off window. Faraway a car engine revs up. Close by a yellow petal lazily falls to the ground. The first drop of rain splatter on my phone screen and I gather it up to move back inside. The jarring noise of the neighbor's lawn mower disturbs me. Was I getting bored? Who can blame me to not want any company?

Yesterday while we drove and I drowsily slouched in the back seat of our car a song played on the car stereo. I found myself smiling. Really if you can talk to yourself who has time to get bored? If you can find freedom in your thoughts there is no stopping you. If you get inspired from within, you will soon meet a new you. In fact an extremely happy you.

This is the song that played. It is from a very nice movie. Udaan.. Flight.. 

Subah ki kirno ko roke jo salaakhein hai kaha
Jo khayalon pe paheren daalein wo aakhein hai kaha

The morning rays.. Where can there be bars that stop them..
Imagination.. Which eyes can stop this flight..

**Udaan movie last scene spoiler Alert**

If you are lucky you will get to have a happy boring day.. I know I desperately long to have one..

Shahrukh Khan and Barun Sobti

Am laughing that I am making a post about him, but am going to go ahead with it either way. 

Today Indi di's philosophical comment got me thinking. Why couldn't we have rabba ve (a song played in IPK synonymous to love) all life long? I signed in relief and thought, "so some people out there do think like me". Nupur and I have also had these conversations a number of lazy mornings in our hostel room or been completed distracted by such musings when we should have been revising for our exams. I want to tell someone, "look I have friends who think like me". 

So back to Shahrukh Khan, watching whom always transports me to a world full of love. So many people I know make fun of his movies, him. But his movies always make me happy. More than that I know I can put on his movie on our television and dadiji, nani everyone will be entertained. So I watch his films and enjoy it. 

And to prove my point, I am adding the last few minutes of Jab Tak Hain Jaan. One of my less favourite love story movies of Shahrukh. And yet the last few minutes and some scenes in the middle were wonderful.

And I can't end without mentioning Barun Sobti (IPK hero). Did you notice how Shahrukh grabbed on to Meera's hair. Well I know another actor who does that grabbing onto hair stuff absolutely brilliantly. I hope he gets a chance to make good films. I want to see him act because it makes me happy, just like how Shahrukh's films bring a smile on my face. I do think Barun is a great actor. There are pages and pages on our forum and elsewhere about his acting talent. Hope he gets a chance to showcase it. Can't wait to smile throughout a three hour movie watching him in it. And then get a chance to share that bliss and excitement with my friends. Touch wood.

Of Places in Between

I have to admit that I used this title for this post in order to spark off interest. If a certain Lazywiz read the name he would surely remark that it is a forced title for this post. Still today is a nice day. I was asked by my India Forum IPK crazy friends to join their whatsapp group and beacuse of this unexpected welcome into their group am feeling all warm and happy, so indulging myself with this slightly whimsical title. But before starting to write I did spend some minutes bragging about this interesting developement to my other whats app group which consists of 3 of my 5 college friends.

A place where journeys begin. A place where stories end. A place where sabbaticals start and the same place where life resumes. Railway stations, bus stands, airports.. then don't they qualify as 'places in between'?

A few weeks back while standing in an airport I was looking around. I remembered those exam topics - "Draw a scene of a railway station". If the kid was intelligent he would draw a book stand, few beggars, a Punjabi Sardarji family with twin kids. And my imagination was already running wild. What else could he draw. A group of excited school kids with a harassed pair of teachers.  A few college boys sitting on bag packs, off to give another entrance exam. A man in a baggy black coat, supposedly the ticket collector. Coolies in red. Some old, some too lean. Lost tired faces of people lying on pieces of cloth spread on the floor. People bustling about in a hurry.  Irritated grumpy mothers. Fathers trying to slide away to smoke a cigarette. Kids busy in their own world. A big party off to attend a wedding. If you were lucky you would be able to identify the bride thanks to her mehendi adorned hands.


On one such railway station as Aarwen stood dazed, the train whistled and moved past her. She looked at Lazywiz and found everything almost spinning, losing focus. All she knew was she didn't want to board a train that would take her away from him. Maybe some passerby looked at her and cooked some story in their mind just as I do when looking at others.

Simran ran as she was about to miss her train..her ticket to a month of freedom with her friends.. and Raj held out his hand and pulled her on a journey of a lifetime.. Later Simran again ran as her father gave her away to Raj who was again ready, holding out his hand. Dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge stills plays in some Cinemas.




In Jaane Tu Jaane Na, a surprisingly cute movie, the shy hero serenades his best friend by breaking all police rules and running into an airport.. tera mujhse hai pehle ka naata koi.. yuhi nahi dil lubhata koi.. jaane tuuuu... yaaa jaane naa.. In fact the whole story is recounted by their friends to a new member of their group in the form of flashbacks while they sat on the very same airport.

Dil hai ki maanta nahin, another sweet movie had a bus stand. A lazy, over smart journalist met the hot headed runaway daughter of a tycoon  in a crowded bus stand. In another bus stand Veer asked Zaara for a few days of her life before she went back to become someone else's wife.

I thought of movies, but then as I looked around I saw real life stories play out in front of my very eyes. 

An old Indian woman in a saree had baloons in her hand. Were her grandchildren coming for a visit? A Japanese diplomat received a grand welcome which was video recorded by a man in formal attire. Were they about to sign the next big deal in business? An Indian father ran and hugged his daughter and smiled at his wife. Had he missed his wife while she was away? Their back facing towards me stood an extremely handsome looking couple. Is it okay to admit I kept trying to peer and take a look at the girls face?

My reverie was broken by the shrieks of two young couple as they welcomed another young couple (friends?) with bouquet of flowers and loud yells. A lot of selfies were clicked, a few pictures taken from cameras. Some video recordings also happened as different people met their friends, families, strangers. A quiet pretty looking young girl was accompanied by an Airline official and handed over to a decent looking lady. Both seemed unsure of how to react around each other. The lady could not decide if she was allowed to place her hand on the girl's shoulders. I romanticized thinking maybe she was the mother meeting her grown up daughter for the very first time.

When I was small my father would go often on tours. My mother and me would drive down to the station to receive him. My mother would enjoy looking at everyone arriving, at the dresses the ladies wore. She would guess where the families were going. She would make frequent trips to check the status of the train. I on the other hand do not like moving about once I am seated in the car. So I would roll down my window and enjoy reading my Nancy Drew book.

If we went on trips I would visit the bookstalls. I would marvel at the young boy managing the stall who knew the name and location of every book. Archies, Agatha Christie my favourite picks for travel. My mother would want to get down at each station, get excited about the food, tea stalls and any other even slightly interesting thing. I mostly never even moved. Only when the train would start and there would be no sight of her would I cautiously peep out and confirm if she did get onboard the train. In a train I like to sleep to the rocking motion. But during the day time I love looking out of the window. In the plane I just sleep.  


When I stand at the bus stand the few days I take the bus I think the same thing. These are places in between. You plan your evening or you plan your day. You move away from office and reach home. Sometimes you leave your city and enter a vacation destination. You come back tired. You could leave in anxiety or full of excitement. while you wait at these places it forces people to read, relax while waiting or simply learn to be patient, listen to music, spend time with each other. In your thoughts as you get ready to travel you make decisions, sometimes resolutions. Start and end of a journey always has the opportunity to get to try out something new. Or atleast that is the impression that I get.

Newsroom

I am so clueless of the news that it gets quite funny. Alia Bhatt , quite charming I think, could not tell the name of the CM of her state. Luckily am not a celebrity since I would have fared no better. One time in school in an extempore competition my topic was Politics. Haha the one topic that I had nothing to say about.

The other day I was talking to my office colleagues that India is so much more than what is shown in Slumdog Millionaire. And my manager remarked about the hero.. that boy.. he asked,"what was he called?".. and then answered himself.."chaiwala". And then he said, "isn't Modi exactly like that? The story is the same with a lot more of political intrigue in it." 

That got me thinking about the news and what gets covered in the news. Anyway I cannot dare write about the news or reporters since I have no idea about all that. What I have been wanting to write about is a delightful TV show. Newsroom.

** HBO TV show Newsroom spoilers ahead**

Its about idealistic journalism. how journalists should try and do the right thing as they have a moral obligation to society who depend on them for the facts. But the fun, witty , charming way this is portrayed makes the show such an interesting watch. Another reason for this show being one of my favourites is that almost all characters have something worth rooting for. Every story, the acting, specially the dialogues (and there is such a large amount of it in very high speed) are great. The title soundtrack somehow reminds me of Vande Matram.

The biggest tussle for my favourite spot is between two facets of the show. The characters who are flawed still so amazingly inspiring. Honorable, good at their job, witty, fun, real, alive. And the dialogues. There are times when three or four people are delivering their dialgues at braek nek speed (The spelling mistake because I am typing at the same speed). All the political terms fly over my head, but the wit... I laugh so much that it hurts. And am amazed at how noone takes umbrage at anything their colleagues say. No acting good, be normal.

The show starts with a confusing sequence. A man slightly dazed sits on a podium and answers questions trying to be smart and funny. There is no real answer in anything he says. Till a girl from the audience stands up to ask him, "What makes America a great nation?". He tries to weasle his way out of answering till in the far end of the auditorium he notices someone with a placard that says.. "It isn't yet, but it can be."

Will McAvoy - You could call him the central protagonist on whom the story revolves. It is he who was not doing a great job as a reporter of a daily news show. The TRP game played here as well, till he starts doing his job sincerely and well. He is great at what he does. Only negative I can think of is he isn't that good looking. A middle aged, smart man. 

 MacKenzie McHale - She is so absolutely charming I dare you to not fall hopelessly in love with her. An idealist to the core. Not preachy at all. So much fun to hear her sincere speeches, see her mess up, be completely human, helplessly in love, heartbroken, excited, actually super excited. I do believe you need positive people around you. I would love to have such a person around me. Inspiring. Compulsive obsessive lovely.

Jim - He came into Will's office with Mac. Very sincere. Hardly ever makes mistakes. Loyal and still never afraid to speak up. Makes perfect judgement calls. Can't handle this thing called love, but all that craziness makes the frenzy of getting the night's show ready even more interesting.

Maggie - Completely scatterbrain. When we start off she is new, but she fits right in. quite competent. Wanting to prove herself. Makes bad choices and makes a lot of good choices. Whatever the chaos all around she will give her all to get the news flowing.

Neal - He is played by the original chaiwala, Dev Patel. Handles the online side of the Newsroom. People didn't even know they had a blog. Follows leads on twitter. geeky, hacker talk. How can I not be ensnared.

Don - When we talk about character development in a show we could look at a person like Don. At the onset I was sure he will be the bad guy. He is not. It does help that he looks nice and has a set of piercing eyes (I should use this phrase again someother places. I like the imagery it conjures..) . He may be curt, more wordly than the rest, but again is genuinely nice. Good at his job as the rest.

Sloan - She is all brains. Howard MBA grad if I am not wrong. Social misfit, but who cares. She is extremely endearing because she cannot be normal. She is intelligent and an outsider. Slightly different from the crowd and I like her the way she is.

Charlie - If my husband ever starts a company, and I plan to visit him frequently there, I wish that both of us are bosses like Charlie. He looks frail and sometimes i feel sorry for him. Actually I needn't be sorry at all. He fiery. And it is his convictions that let this mad lot do what they have set out to do. Screen them from the fire, encourages them to dare to dream. A very nice character.

Phew.. if you stuck through this long list and reached here.. thank you. They are all that memorable that I could not pick a few and leave the rest. Had to mention them all.

Before I end..I found something I had hastily typed after the season 1 premier of the show .. on the type writer my husband has gifted me. I plan to use some of these lines for IPK because I think it fits there too.

Why do simple things make such a difference? That one moment which inspires you? Makes you believe so strongly in love..in happiness that it almost physically makes you breathless.. Everything clenches in your gut with anticipation. Pure joy of watching, listening, feeling, living..

Simple scenes, lovely background score.. hard to follow easy to lose track of the fast paced dialogues.. Yet thrills you.. excites you.. You wish to reach out and stretch your wings and soar into the blue sky..

Newroom. Completely practical premise. A show about a tv news channel. And it manages to evoke a response in me much beyond what would be practically possible for such a show.

Worship

Again that feeling of missing a train.. Something not right with the world when I can't write because of interruptions.. sometimes tangible are these interruptions, sometimes in my head..

And as I sat tired, quite depressed something miraculous happened. My husband's grandmother, nani, started telling me stories about our gods and goddesses. There was that twinkle in her eye and a catching smile. She was enjoying herself and surprisingly so was I. Some of these stories I have heard before and some I haven't.

Do you know the story behind Tulsi vivaah? She was actually a goddess and one of  Vishnu's many wives. Till Radha decided she was the only main wife and Tulsi could not have him in heaven, had to descend to earth. She cursed Tulsi. Nani was confused with the names, but they are just names of the same form so I am sticking with the names she used. 

So Tulsi came to earth where she got tricked into believing a demon was her husband. But she was a loyal and true wife to the demon, Jalandhar. The demon became so powerful thanks to Tulsi's devotion that he could not be defeated by Shiv as well. And to kill Jalandhar Vishnu came to earth and took his form. Since Tulsi was tricked into believing Vishnu was her husband Jalandhar's powers were lost. Vishnu succeeded to kill him. Tulsi, whom we know was actually Vishnu's wife from a lifetime ago, cursed Vishnu and told him he would he would turn black and be separated from his wife. 

So for his next lifetime he transformed into a black stone and she into the sacred tulsi plant as we know it. The black stone is called Shaligram. And we have a puja where tulsi gets married to Shaligram.  

Sure you could say she had to endure lots. But still I was almost teary eyed to think how after so many lifetimes it finally all worked out for that woman in love. God does have everything neatly planned out for us. Yes apparently am a little crazy about love.

Maybe I should have a disclaimer stating, "who am I to say anything about a man and his relationship with God." Intensely personal. If someone believes that he needs to follow all rituals, everything his elders grilled into him as right and wrong, shubh ashubh, to feel closer to divinity then that is his truth. If someone cares to reject him completely that is his belief. ASR (from my show IPK) is shown an atheist who respects the wishes of everyone around him who are strong believers in puja and god. He will not of his own wishes step into a temple or join his hands in prayer or put a tika. Yet I do think he is one of those who is the closest to god.

And that brings me to a simple story I love. I forget where I read it. I am tempted to think it could possibly be in an English exam in the reading comprehension section.

One day Naarad muni asked Vishnu who was his favourite bhakt..Is the translation, follower? Naarad muni in each breath he takes chants the gods name.. naarayan naarayan.. he felt certain Vishnu would name him his foremost bhakt. But Vishnu surprised him by naming a non descript name. Who was this man, why hadn't naarad muni heard of him? Was a learned sage? Was he a wise maharishi? Vishnu bhagwan told naarad to go see for himself.

So naarad muni went to the man's hut. Yes, he lived in a small hut. He was a farmer. As naarad muni spied on the hut, the sun rose. The farmer got up. Came out of his hut and chanted Vishnu's name once. Took a bath, ate breakfast, went to his fields and toiled all day long. He came back home and as the sun was about to set he took Vishnu bhagwan's name again. Ate dinner and slept.

Naarad munni was astounded and indignant. He came to Vishnu and questioned him. This man only took your name twice and in no way else remembered you or prayed to you all day long, performed no puja, said no prayers and he is your biggest bhakt! How can that be? Vishnu bhagwan calmly replied that naarad should do him a favour and after that he would explain why. 

He told naarad muni that it was of vital importance that the task be completed successfully and so he was being entrusted with it. A small vessel filled to the brim with oil. Naarad had to traverse all the 7 worlds with it held in his hands ensuring that not one drop was filled.

Naarad with all the pride at being chosen for this important task went on his trip. Not one drop was spilt. Not one second was he distracted. Silently and extremely cautiously he held on to the filled vessel. He successfully completed his journey and came to Vishnu. Almost smug with himself he showed Vishnu how perfectly he had completed the work.

Vishnu complimented him and then asked him. How many times did you take my name on the trip? naarad muni was baffled. He had to concentrate, so he had not chanted his usual.. naarayan naarayan. Vishnu bhagwan smiled.

He explained. The farmer completes all his work. karma. he does all that he is supposed to with utmost devotion. And while he does all that no matter how good or bad the day, he still finds one moment of peace to remember me. thank me. be with me. I need nothing more.

Recipe for Pickles

If someone told me I would make homemade pickles one day I would not have believed him. Turns out that is exactly what I did today. 

We can never be just one thing right? When I think I want to not go to office I realize I like the freedom of office. I like my work. When I want to only sit on my laptop I realize it was a fun day because I made pickles.. haha amusing life..

1. Hari Mirch ka achaar (Green chilli pickle)

Saunf (first roasted then ground) , Red chilli powder, Rai (ground), Khatai (Aamchur), Salt to taste (never thought I would say this..hehehe), Mustard Oil.

Slit the chilli along its length and fill in the spice. Leave in a glass jar  (preferably) for a few days.

Tadaaa.. it really is easy..

2. Nimbu ka achaar (Lime pickle)

Saunf ( first roasted then ground, but less in quantity than used for the mirchi achaar above), Red chilli powder, Salt to taste (saying this is still thrilling me)

Cut the green limes (preferably thin skinned and juicy) into a flower shape with 8 petals all attached to the base and fill in the spice.  Leave in a glass jar  (preferably) for around 10 days.

3. Meetha Aam ka achaar (Sweet mango pickle)

Saunf ( first roasted then ground), Red chilli powder, Sugar (or gur), Mangrael (Onion seeds),  Salt to taste (the novelty just doesn't wear out)

Skin a greenish yellow mango and cut into pieces. Wrap in the spices and leave for a day. When the sugar turns watery you can cook the mixture on slow flame and place into a glass jar for a few days. Also tasted pretty good when eaten immediately after applying the spices.

4.  Mango pickle

Saunf ( first roasted then ground), Red chilli powder, Mangrael (Onion seeds), Rai (ground), Turmeric (pinch of it),  Mustard Oil, Salt to taste (after all these days amazingly this still thrills)

Skin a green mango and cut into pieces. If the mango is yellowish it may not be tangy enough for this recipe. Wrap in the spices. Leave in a glass jar (preferably) for around 3-5 days in the sun. Shake the jar a couple of times a day to coat the mango pieces with the spice mix. 

Phoenix

Note to self -

Aarwen had been good at things she tried out in her life. She had a mother brainwashing her that she was in fact much better than the rest. But Aarwen liked to think she was smart. She knew she was like the frog in the pond (I may be confusing a few proverbs here). The ocean had much bigger fish.

Till she reached college. As she stood on stage for her very first debate, she looked at the seemingly male dominated setup. She stood no chance.  Turns out they stood no chance. How the compliments flowed in.

A friend of Aarwen, someone who could talk about books for hours, just the kind of person Aarwen got along with fabulously, would compare her to Melanie. That gentle selfless soul from Gone With The Wind. Aarwen would delude herself she was that. Aarwen liked to do things for others too. But Melanie would not care if she got compliments. Melanie was unwordly like Bella in Beauty and the Beast. Aarwen wanted to be that. In fact popular, competent, Belle of the ball like Sacrlett with the golden heart of Melanie. uff what a combination she thought she was. But she really was no where close. And she did have her nose in books like the Belle from the Disney movie, but unlike Belle who wasn't aware of the people singing around her, Aarwen knew when people sang around her and even wished they would sing when the didn't.

Now wise Aarwen knows that being Melanie would be quite boring. Yes a nice inspiration to have but a bit of bad is good. No wonder Aarwen likes saying what the and dammit these days. And everytime she says it in her mind (still has not gathered courage to say it out loud) she feels thrilled with herself.

The first year she had the Midas's touch. Wherever she spoke , wherever she went she left a mark or atleast thought she did. Wish that was enough. The next year she had an added burden as she stood on stage. The big bloated head and a big self image. Narcissism finishes off unsuspecting victims. She could not meet her own self image.

She came back to her hostel room worried, embarrassed, ashamed. Atleast she had the sense to know she was messing things up. So whom did she talk to? Her roommate who was quite sensible and a friend? Or her mother.. that would have been the worst decision ever. (shuddering even thinking of it).. the boy the thought she was in love with.. Instead she called up a boy whom she had barely spoken a few words too in the last one year. A boy whom she met the first day of college. A boy who had after one year chatted with her on google talk unexpectedly one day, and that was it. She called up lazyWiz.

No idea why she thought of calling him up. Thank god she did call him up. What did he have to say? You are sad because you think you are the best and now your image is ruined. Harsh words that brought tears to the already miserable Aarwen. You aren't afraid of loosing the competition as of loosing face in front of people you think are your fans. He was being mean, but she listened to him hypnotized. Would she have listened with this reverence if it was someone else, we will never know. Would she dare take this helping hand and come out of the pit she was gradually sinking deeper and deeper in? leave her comfort zone and try and become what she could be, longed to be? Could she perhaps become things she still was not, but what she may like to be?

Almost a decade (and when I say it this way it does seem like a really long time) later .. a decade of lying low.. a decade of not really letting anything get to her head she is starting something new.. getting compliments again.. Indi di was telling me about the joy of writing for oneself..not letting others define what and how you write.. and also Aarwen herself feels the gradual change.. the wish to be her own person.. not please everyone all the time.. not be perfect.. just be herself..

And so it felt like the perfect time for a little reminder of a vital lesson learnt with some time ago with quite a bit of difficulty. A lesson that with itself brought a most wonderful teacher, friend. In fact the teacher was so sincere that he decided to stay with the student for life. A lesson that has the most fulfilling result ever and Aarwen hopes she continues to remember the lesson. Haha how I laughed when I saw Arnav tell Khushi one day in IPK that she was an egoist too. I knew there had to be reasons why I like the character so much. Ego.. A really scary word.

Unlike her namesake, who is an elf from the Lord Of The Rings world, who gave up immortality to live one lifetime as a human, the Aarwen you know is a phoenix. She is pretty as she goes through life till she becomes flawed, a skeletal of her former self, grotesque. Finally bursts into flames in agony. All that remains is ashes. From it  the phoenix is majestically reborn to regain her former beauty, untainted unblemished perfection. The cycle of destruction and regeneration goes on for a phoneix. Thankfully this phoenix is not alone in this journey. This phoenix has a mate.

Dad's are the hardest people to buy gifts for

For the first time while writing a post am still wondering if I will have enough to write. So why am I writing? While my husband and I drove to our office today morning we heard this on the radio. I smiled with my teeth showing and wriggled on my seat trying out a dance step to match the song the whole drive to office.

I never knew you could hear the radio programs on the internet later on as well. Its like three pens in one (To understand the reference you would need to watch a very cute movie IQ starring Meg Ryan, Tim Robbins and an extremely lovable Albert Einstein) . What a magical world we live in these days.
http://www.movin925.com/2014/06/13/podcast-young-jeffreys-song-week-daddy-can/

Apparently Sunday is Father's Day. I tried to remember, but I don't think I have ever wished my father on this day. I usually end up wishing him a day late on his birthday too. He isn't the kind to mind it or even expect it. Perhaps that is why even I don't mind if people don't wish me. In any case it gives me an excuse to conveniently forget other people's birthday's as well. Will I call him this year? Most probably not, but does that keep me from writing about him? Absolutely not. 

Happy father's day dada ..

I have heard stories of how when I was a baby he would put pillows on all sides and completely smother me in the pretext of tucking me in. When I was a kid he would start to tell me funny stories at bedtime.. I still remember the heroes.. harbargam, garbargam and milkha singh. The stories were fun till he managed to bring himself in. He would always be almost a super hero. I would not be impressed though the stories would have me laughing anyway. Worse were his college day stories.

He hates travelling. Loves his mother's, my dadiji's, cooking. But for many years he stayed alone, since he worked in baroda then China while we lived in Ranchi. It was by choice. I wonder if he got bored with no one to talk to in a flat all by himself. I wonder if he got tired of cooking himself and ordered from outside. Till one day he got tired of that too and would go to sleep hungry. Some time during the Kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi TV serial era he decided he liked all Star Plus serials. How I would try and get the remote when mamma and me visited Baroda during our holidays.

All night and day long he can spend playing online Poker. Wins lots until he looses everything in casinos. Headstrong not wanting to please anyone. Likes gardening. Snores so loudly I wonder how my mother bears it. I kept telling him, but he still hasn't quit smoking. When he comes to my house he gets my husband to share a cigarette with him. Well he always joked that he wanted a son-in-law who would smoke, so that turned out well for both of them.

My favourite memory of him. Something so completely unlike him. After my vidai from my grandparents house in Jamshedpur I stayed for around 24 hrs in my husband's house. The next day with my husband and his uncle's (Yes that same uncle from a few posts before!) family we took the early morning train to Kolkata. It was too early and all this new bahuness (taking the liberty of coining a term) was quite disorienting. I think I stood quietly to the side smiling politely at any comments made to me. Mostly was too dazed to even answer. Later when I spoke to dada on the phone he said he had come alone (my mother didn't know) to the station and stood and silently watched me go. I asked him why didn't he come say bye. He said he just saw me happily starting this new life and did not want to interrupt. I never want to forget that. I never want to forget how I felt when I heard him say that.

He came and stayed with me last November. He was with us for a month in which 2 weeks it was only the two of us together. I spent all my time watching Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon on my ipad. He did most of the cooking and if he found time watched Jodha Akhbar on my husband's ipad.

The one father I really look up to is Atticus Finch from To Kill A Mocking Bird. Respected, wise, insightful, inspiring, calm, mostly always right. I would want to be a parent just like him. 2 sequences that are etched in my memory.

First is when his 7 year old daughter (atleast I think Scout was 7) sat on his lap and asked him, "What is Rape?" . Without skipping a heart beat he replied, "Forced carnal knowledge (or something similar)" . When I read this I had to go check the meaning of Carnal. The bigger thing was he didn't hide anything. Didn't preach. Let her make her own inference. Kids can be very smart if parents just give them a chance to think for themselves.

Second was when a mad dog had to be killed or he would attack. Atticus was a quiet, reserved , slightly boring (or so his 9 yr old son , Jem, thought) lawyer. Apparently he was the best shot in town. His glasses broke and he couldn't see clearly. Yet without blinking an eyelid he stood in the path of the mad dog and shot straight. His son never forgot that. When his son asked him why he never told them about this talent of his, Atticus replied that he didn't really want to have to use it.

I don't want the world's best father, I just want you dada. Maybe I will call you this year. But you do talk for almost an hour when I call you and I hate talking on the phone. Well either way a very happy father's day to you.

I love you

I wrote this for the I love you Blast from the Past thread .. Such lovely writeups and edits all up there. How do they manage to write so much? Something different har baar.. Something new har baar.. I guess that is what is true creativity..

http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4056429

When did my heart know it had fallen for you? Was it when I first met you and you were nasty to me? Was it when I met you again and you dismissed god and everything that I believed in? Was it when I saw you again when I least expected it? You hurt me, mocked me. Did my heart know at that moment?

When did my heart know it had fallen for you? Was it when you first stood gorgeous in front of my eyes? Was it when you drove me mad in anger with your words? You handed me a key but I had long closed all doors. Did my heart know right then it would soon open up for you?

Through all our fights, through my tears, through those fears did my heart just smile? When you saved me that night and saved me again another stormy night did my heart cheer?

Through all the times I tried to ignore you, through all the days and those nights I fought not to adore you, did my heart just smile? When I saw you in red and held you in my arms like a porcelain breakable treasure did my heart in delight roar?

I entered your house when I thought I would go away. I saw you with another and never knew why the tear escaped my eye. You looked at me and one day my heart dreamt of sparkling stars and colorful flowers that you brought just for me. Was the dhak dhak my heart's way of telling me something?

You entered my house when I thought I would never see you again. I was safe with another then why did you start to matter more? Those times I saw you sad, those times when your dupatta beckoned to me what was my heart really telling me?

That time when I ran to you. That time when I know not why I needed you. That time when I held you and cried. You were the strength that kept my heart going.

That time when I stood unable to move. That time when I knew not how to make things better for you. That time when I wanted to stop your tears. Wish I could be the reason your heart kept joyously beating.

That night when you looked at me across the room. That night when my heart raced, and my eyes sought you repeatedly. That night when you returned my ma's payal to me. That night I wanted to know what your heart was saying about me?

That night when I could not take my eyes away from you. That night when your hypnotic gaze held me prisoner. That night when I wanted to touch you and could not walk away . What would your heart have said if I asked you?

I knew I could not be bound to another. I knew you hurt me , but were hurting more yourself. I wanted to reach out to you. My heart wept for you as it did for me.

I didn't know why I wanted you to belong to no other. I did not know why I felt this claim on you like no other. I wanted you to be mine , but you would belong to another. How my heart wept at losing you before you could be mine forever.

My heart danced when you danced with me. All those times you came close. All those times you smiled. All those gifts you gave me that told me you were longing to be mine.

My heart was feeling adventurous, boisterous, young. How beautiful you looked. How my hand felt on your waist. How it was an addicting taste. How your blush told me you too longed to be with me.

Then what went wrong? Why did my heart have to break? Why did you say all there was between us was hate?
Then why did it have to go so wrong? Why did my heart have to break? And even the why could I still not only hate?

You are gone. My heart is a lonely crying curled up ball somewhere in my chest. It needs to breathe. It needs to beat. It still hopes you will somehow magically stop it to bleed.

I am stuck. My heart can only worry about you. It is frantic. It knows what it wants. It knows to who it belongs. Is it strong enough to make everything all right?

I cry. I sob. I hear your voice and I come apart.

Don't cry darling. Don't sob my beloved. I feel your tears and come apart.

If this is what you need to hear, this is also what I need to say, my dear.. Khushi I love you..

Arshi OS: Hum Aapke Hain Kaun

Hey devi maiyya there is so much work to do.. It is jiji's wedding after all. How many times while playing ghar-ghar I imagined myself as Madhuri from Hum Aapke Hain Kaun. Now why couldn't Aakash jeejaji have  a brother like Salman Khan ji. Jiji had to go fall in love with someone who has that laad governor as his brother. Koi aur achcha bhai bhi toh ho sakta tha..

How can I be Madhuri when that rakshas has the part of Salmanji? Imagine us dancing at the wedding! No need to blush khushi and why is it suddenly so hot in this kitchen? So what if we have already danced together. Khushi and laad governor on Teri meri. What was that? Sapna toh nai tha Khushi.. How did he know the steps? Could he have been spying on me.. One can never be too sure where he is concerned.. I better be careful. That could explain why he looks at me in the funny manner these days. As if..   Like he is concentrating. I wanted to ask him if he wanted to tell me something , but better not ask. Most probably he just wanted to scold me..uff buaji was right I really am sankadevi.. How can I  go and ask him.. and what would I say? Why do you look at me this way laad governor? Hehehe.. Chup kar Khushi.. Don't think such nonsense.

How crispy the pakora looks. I will make lots and feed lata mausi and taiji, specially. Golden brown and fried just right. yummy.. might as well taste a few to be on the safe side. Ummm.. That rakshas doesn't like fried food does he? Oh Devi maiyya why does everything make my mind think of him these days? All this pakora batter reminds me of that miracle. Did you also see how he smiled and then laughed? Arnavji looked so relaxed and happy and not at all scary, that day when he fainted. He should eat more. But when does he listen to anyone! Even Anjali ji gets scared of him sometimes. I stand no chance at all.

Should I make something for everyone to drink? It is a hot day and amma and Buaji must definitely be over exerting. Nimbu paani?  hmm. Something different.. I had noticed a whole basketful lying around . Now where was it? Oranges.. I will make fresh orange jooce. And nai, devi maiyya this does not have anything to do with Arnavji. He is not here and I am not thinking about him. Only just a little.. You remember when I burnt him with tea? And poured jooce in his shoes. He hadn't held my dupatta. Main pagal hun. He won't hurt me ever....  Accha?  Remember Khushi how he hurt your hand. There were  marks where he gripped me. Strong rakshas he was. But he was saying sorry Devi maiyya. He misses his amma.

I miss my amma. Are our mothers friends? Do you see them often Devi maiyya? Take care of Arnavji's amma too for my sake. He loves her. Are you angry with him because he does not believe in you? He is not really bad. He..umm.. Helps me you know.. To get jiji to get to say yes. And the dance.  And long back when babuji..  I don't know why but I feel like he is always there somewhere close by if I get into any trouble.

Oh parmeshwari! why should I care if you are angry with him? Do you maybe like him just a little bit? See he may be rude, but Anjali di is nice. He loves di too. So much. That is why I can't tell him about Shyam Ji. Shayad mujhe sach bol dena chahiye tha as soon as I saw Arnavji that day. He would have taught that evil man a lesson. But how can I break Arnavji's heart? he will be devastated just like Anjali ji. His di is everything for him. And all of us nothing. Nothing..

I will lay out these sweets. oh all these sweets came from Shantivan. It's from the same shop yesterday's havan's prasad was from.  All of us mean nothing? But he bought me those bangles Devi maiyya. Why? Us sab ka matlab kya tha ? Haiye Khushi  he must have only wanted to say sorry now that our families are becoming one. I am crazy. Don't pay any attention to anything I say. I don't know what I want to read into this. But he found me buying channa and kept saying he was worried something had happened to me.  Where is that box of channa ? I need to munch on something. All this worrying makes me hungry. He looked so worried Devi maiyya. And angry. I don't understand. Was it because I went with Nanheji? I will tell you a secret and then promise me you will forget about it.. I was hoping I would get to go with Arnavji to get the ghee. I waited, but that didn't happen.. Magarmach.. He could have said he will take me.. Aise toh sab ko darate hai but when needed he will keep quiet.. Aise toh apne samne kisi ko baat karne ka mauka hi nai dete but when I want him to complete his sentences he will never complete them..

Koi baat nai it is good. Nanheji let me sing songs the whole way here. Imagine if I sang with laad governor next to me.. Haha. Khushi stop thinking of all this. Oh somebody left these golgappas here. I can eat a few. They look so good. And no he isn't here. I won't even turn to look. Why should he be here in this kitchen?

I will think of nice things. Salmanji. How he fights...10 people at a time. Yeh hui na baat.. that is a true hero.. But.. Arnavji also fights. In Nanital. I was so worried that he would kill the man and go to jail and I would not know how to go back home. But much much later after babuji came back from hospital.. My cheeks are burning.. I need to splash some water on my face. Kitchen sink here I come.. Nice and cool and refreshing. The golgappas must have been too teekha. And I was just sad so I ran and .. Hugged.. Him. Umm

What was I thinking..  How distracting and irritating is this man even in my thoughts. Oh yes. He fought all those men like a hero. Hehee.. For me..  There I go dreaming again. Devi maiyya couldn't you make me just a little more sensible?

There all done!  Everything is ready in the kitchen. Do I have time to make some jilebis? There is always time for jilebis, isn't it? Let me tie my hair in a bun so I don't mess it. His fingers had grazed my back and he had reached out and opened my clip. He liked me with open hair. What shape are my jilebis taking. My hand is shivering. And this deafening thrumming of my heart.. Dhak dhak… stop.. Why did this acidity have to return? There is so much nice food to eat. I cannot fall sick abhi.

Chal khushi buri baatein sochna band kar. Sahi se jilebi bana..

"Aa..rnavji aap? Ye aap kya kar re hai ? choriye humein.. Leave me.. What do you think you are doing?"

Why did he have to stand so close.. And hold my hand .. My hand in his.. my skin so white next to his brown.. Yashomati maiyya se bole NandLala radha kyu gori main kyu kaala.. Krishna bhagwan was dark and Radha fair.. Focus Khushi.. hmmp as if I can't make jilebis myself. Samajhte kya hai khud ko? I won't look at that smiling face..

"Khushi first tumhe meri help chahiye thi dance competition win Karne ek liye, phir you needed me churiyaan lane ke liye aur ab tumse jalebi bhi nai ban rahi. Khushi Kumari Gupta you need me. Tumhe meri zarurat hai."

Hey Devi maiyya raksha karna.. If Madhuriji can ask it of salmanji then khushi can ask Arnavji. Time to turn and smile my most disarming brilliant smile at him.

"Kyu? Aapne meri madad sangeet mein kyu ki? Why did you dance with me on teri meri? When Nanheji  brought me choodiyan of the wrong size why did you bother buying me the correct one? aapne sahi churiyaan kyu kharidi? Aapko isse kya Arnavji?  Aur mujhe kuch ho Jaye toh aapko kya farak parta hai Arnavji? Why does it matter to you if something happened to me?"

"Khushi Baat tuumhari hai is liye farak parta hai.. It is you that is why it matters.. Samajhi tum.."

What is his smile trying to tell me devi maiyya.. I stare into his eyes and forget everything.. But not today..

"Nai samajhi..aap samjhayiye.. Batayiye humein Arnavji.. Tell me.. Humein jaanana hai.. I want to know.. Hum aapke Hain Kaun?"

Devi maiiya.. He is smiling.. Why do I know for certain my question will be answered today? His lingering twinkling eyes tell me all I need to know. I am no longer scared.. No longer hungry.. I know what I want to hear.. I know what he will tell me.. Humein vishwas hai.. Khud par.. Un par.. Aur Aap par meri pyari devi maiyya..

Twilight

Am back home. 2 people whose comments matter a lot have said they like what I write here. I met a real live actual CIA agent yesterday who without breaking into a smile continued seriously talking while uttering the words 'Covert Operation'. 
LazyWiz got to try out google glasses. Three plants or rather the only three flowering plants in my garden have flowers blooming. A week away from Seattle I have realized whatever everyone may say I love the cloudy weather of this town. All this definitely calls for a happy post. 

A while back when I was in a phase where I had almost given up reading, a school friend of mine (yes that is 1 out of the 2 school friends I still have and want to keep) told me she was reading Twilight. I vaguely recollected seeing a black covered book with a crimson colored object on the front cover whichever bookstore my husband and I would step into. Considering my general aversion to anything that other people recommend or go crazy over, I immediately ignored the statement and conveniently forgot all about it.

My mother and my sister-in-law were visiting at the same time while we lived in Bangalore. My husband brought 2 dvds for us to watch. Really bad print , but he thought I would like the movie. It had vampires in it, you see. Within minutes the other two females in the house were fast asleep. I couldn't sleep I had mehendi on my hands. So we continued to watch, as slowly and surely I got mesmerized with everything on screen. 


**Twilight series spoilers Ahead**

Stephanie Meyer, the author, mentioned in an interview that the characters came to her in a dream as they sat talking to each other in a meadow. She had to start writing a story about them. It turned out to be a series of 4 books. Made into 5 movies.

Isabella, or simply Bella. She spent her life with a vague feeling she did not belong. Acted mature and responsible for her mother. Loves to read. Fell and hurt herself all the time. Hated blood. Saw him for the first time. His face had a snarl. Those black eyes were lethal. 

Edward. He spent endless years existing. A vegetarian. Knew what everyone was thinking. He had no idea what she thought. He had no idea why her blood sang to him like nothing ever had before. He had no idea why she looked delectable, in a totally different way than expected, in blue. And he had no idea why he could not stay away.

He thought he was not the good guy. She did not really care. He tells her to stay away. there was no way she was going to be able to stay away. The word irrevocably got added to my vocabulary as I fell in love with this love story of the sick masochistic lion and the stupid lamb. One of the main reasons I loved the idea of moving to Seattle. Forks is close by. 

Men are sometimes strange when they get protective. And so he decided to walk away. She was exactly how rare women are most of the time. Dead, lifeless without her man. An unexpected friend became a lifeline. The friend was not to be a major character, but Stephanie mentioned he sort of forced himself to become who he ended up being. Surprising that Indi di says the exact same think about her Arnav and Khushi when writing her fanfiction about them. And so the friend was the bright warm sun in her cold listless life. Still she longed for the one missing. A young high school girl, whose life was at a standstill. It happens. You go crazy in love. That is the very nature of love.

If she dies, he dies. Love did not let either die. A tough choice she had to be make. You learn the most important lessons of life in the silliest of places. Someone told me they had uttered the words I love you to two different people. And still wanted to spend their life with one of them. I understood and joked about 'imprinting' all thanks to this book about shiny sparkly vampires.

A most beautiful wedding and the promise of forever. A giggly honeymoon in the most exotic location. A bed broke here too just like in my favourite show (IPK, and if you don't know that name yet, you haven't been paying attention to my blog). A child. Someone who never thought of being a mother was ready to die for the life growing within her. The life killing her from within. 

Another important lesson. Maybe if we prepare enough we can withstand anything. She could control her hunger. The only kind of hunger she had no control over stemmed from the most primitive purest of desire. She remained who she was. Grew more powerful. Love does that to you. The friend got his happy ending too.

I got a bday cake with a twilight scene on it. And at the very same time every day I get a message on my phone. "Just remembered. I love you. You are my favourite brand of heroin".  People make fun of the books, movies. They miss out on a most beautiful love story.  If they can see two people in this scene and remain unaffected, sometimes I wonder if vampires are the only cold blooded ones.

My very first VM

First I don't know what VM stands for.. leaving space for a blushing smiley face..

Second again thanks to my inspiring blaster friends I even thought of doing this.. what fun.. but so time consuming..

Third just as music soared high she smiled delightedly, he smiled tenderly. Both were bathed in a warm honeyed glow of a single firefly. I covertly watched sideways and saw you break into an awestruck smile.. Do you even know what your one smile does to encourage me?

"Kehne de taaro ko kahaani ankahi..

                     Na ja abhi..

 Pyaar ki ye raat hai..

                   Ab na jaa..

Choti si ye baat hai..

                   Ab na jaa..

Pal do pal ka sath hai..

                   Ab na jaa..

Jaadu si ye raat hai..

                  Ab na jaa.."

I love the original video as well.. I wanted to sit silently staring at the sky this way with my feet lightly dipped in the water below.. wanted to look this simple and lovely in a flowy skirt.. and of course wanted to twirl under the cover of those tall green trees in reckless abandon..

Books, Technology, Confusion, Smiles, among other things

Aarwen sat across the table from Lazywiz's bhaiya. They were having lunch in a restaurant. Not his bhaiya actually , more like his IIT prep teacher, mentor, guide, friend. Bhaiya asked her multiplication tables. 7*4, 12*6, 8*9. The questions are hazy , but her answers were definitely correct. She was proud of herself.

Aarwen was packing her mother-in-law's suitcase. Her mother-in-law is a Hindi professor. Suddenly Aarwen was asked , "Can you recite the Hindi alphabets?" "क ख ग  घ.... " Aarwen recited the entire Hindi varnamala.. She was so proud of herself..

Aarwen was logged in on gmail. She got a message from Lazywiz's ex colleague. He wanted help with Android development. "How do you fix the service to interact with the receiver? And what about the layout? Can you add a button and a scroll bar? Have you worked with Google APIs?" She had an answer for all questions. She really was thankful this time that she knew enough..

I met the same colleague yesterday. And just when I have been thinking I am ready to give up being a software developer I realize this is part of my identity. I loved being able to talk tech stuff. I feel thrilled when my code runs, when I solve a problem. That I like sitting at my desk and doing work, staring out of the office window savouring the amazing view and refreshing IF a few times even on the most insanely busy days. That me and my husband work for the same company and it is so much fun. Very very interesting reminder...

Aarwen, Lazywiz, his uncle and aunt sat together. Lazywiz boasted.. "Ask her about any classic book. She has read it. I can bet on it." The uncle mentioned Kahlil Gibran. She had not read him. He looked a little evilly (or so I exaggerate) delighted and mentioned Albert Camus. She shook her head full of poise (or atleast I hope she was poised). As they walked out Lazywiz said, "Am willing to pay the bet money this time and whenever next as well, because I still think she is the most well read person I have met. You should hear her talk about the books and the discussions we have."

I watched you as you said that today. I was sad I hadn't been able to meet up to your expectation. But I was happy and really touched you feel this way about me. Also I was laughing at life. We get complacent and luckily it does not last for long. I wasn't as upset about not being able to say "Yes I have read that and that too. And by the way have you read this?". In my defence (and since this is my space I have the freedom of presenting my defence) we were betting more about fiction and younger adult classics. Still I think I will go read these two books. Instead am feeling quite grown up that my ego isn't hurt too much as I guess it would have been some time back. 

And this post would have been perhaps more broody if it wasn't for a lovely surprise from my ex-roomate. We have danced and twirled on a Barbie song in our shared hostel room.. "you are just like me , I am just like you..". As a surprise she made me an edit of my favourite Arnav and Khushi.. The smile hasn't left my face.. Am sitting next to the same uncle watching a horror movie happily (or as happy as you can be when being forced to endure the torture of a horror movie) and typing away on my blog..  The actual surprise is you get the nicest of experiences in the most surprising of times. All you need to do is observe the moments..

"Life isn't measured by the number of breadths you take..
                 but the moments that take your breadth away.."

I actually had three today.. I stood in the Stanford campus.. One special person in this big wide world is ready to bet on me.. and a friend gave me a surprise gift I absolutely love.. What a lovely day..

Happy Third Anniversary IPK

My post on BFTP Third anniversary thread..

Its been an insanely crazy two weeks.. Have not watched the show in these 2 weeks.. have a mind full of others things, still IPK lingers in it.. 

http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4043799&PID=107897496&#p107897496

She put on those running shoes underneath her shimmering lehenga, kick started her isskooter and took us right alongside her on a ride of a lifetime. She looked up at the flying helicopter overhead and we stared right with her. Unknown to her and us, in flew our rajkumar.

He took off those black shades and stared right into our hearts. Those long strides on Sheesh Mahal's fabled grounds had him entering our souls. Laying a claim on it. What happened to him mattered. Why those eyes had those haunting shadows mattered.

She landed in his arms and a love story like we had never seen before started. His inert face came alive. She quivered in those strong arms and we shivered with her. Anger got a new name, Arnav Singh Raizada. Style got a new name Arnav Singh Raizada. The word Hero got a new name, Arnav Singh Raizada. And soon I was shopping for dresses with pearl doris on them. Ready to have them ripped in anger. Ready to open my straight long black hair and have it swish unrestrained across my back in reply.

It is really not long. Not three years but more like 8 moths that I know this show. It feels enough.

Before I knew it on my ha..ha.. happy days I was singing a new song.. Aaj mausam hai suhana.. When I looked at a tray full of mithai earlier I thought of my dadaji who loved mithai. Now I think of Khushi Kumari Gupta.

When I walk across a deserted parking lot I look around to see if a thin young girl drenched in rain has been saved by a man who thinks he hates her. When I wear red I sigh in frustration because I can never look as amazing as the girl who took his breath away.

My phone ringtone sings rabba ve. I refuse to put it in silent even in office. My husband knows the song and hums it with me when he wants to make me happy. My friends know it means something. I meet random people and tell them I like a show which has this song rabba ve. The person sitting behind me in office knows she will see colorful pictures on my screen most days.

When I see a person with a bluetooth he is no longer a show off. He is another reason to remember the one I need no reason to remember. Tycoons are from harvard who write contracts for marriages. And damaadji's study from haridvar.

My favourite quotes are no longer from books, they are from 2 lovers who redefined love for me. My favourite heros' would be from English classics now it is one character from an Indian television show. My favourite movie actor is Shahrukh khan, but am waiting to call someone else my favourite actor. He perhaps already is. And did I hear he has a three film deal?

I look at elder ladies in my family and try to find a nani. Look for a glimpse of a hello hi bye bye. Long to hear a voice say Hai re nand kisore. When I smile, and sometimes even when my husband smiles we scrunch up our eyes like a certain religious elder sister does when she is happy.

Words end with wa.. Snakewa, bitwa.. And I try hard to speak broken english..

Orange juice, Pakori, golgappa, channa and even 'dumb aaloos' have all become part of my diet. Sanka is a precise art I have learned to identify. Its strength apparent to me in how a girl handled anger, problems, life.

I like crooked plaits. I like flying dupattas. I like jaipuri chappal. I love silver payals.

A picture of a boyish charming laughter never fails to bring a smile on my face. And a girl playing blind man's buff with a servant makes the smile turn to a wide grin. Of course servants are not servants if their names don't end with a Prakash.

Ajeeb, tum thik ho, farak parna have become copyrighted words. No one can say it without my mind racing to some other significant event between the man and woman. Soon the memory turns to how he holds, how she reacts. How he steps forward, how she moves back. I become daring as I think of the unthinkable. As I want a girl to act on the attraction. Want a man to be able to show the attraction.

I always loved looking at stars. But now when I gaze up all I do is say thank you for the happiness that I have got in my life. For letting my belief in love strengthen. For introducing me to something out of this world. When I look at stars now all I can think of is two lovely ajeeb people madly in the most beautiful ever love.

Teri meri, ek do teen, oo la la, hawa hawai , namak ishq ka, mujhse shaadi karogi are all no longer related to different movies. They all bring the same stunning face before me.

Holi, diwali will never just be festivals. Heartbeats are all dhakane now.. Confessing love.. being near the one you love should always involve a rapid increase in the very same dhakarne.. And also an increase in acidity..

I love mehendi. But now when I apply it the smile is because a certain someone also always had 'A' in her name. And a kiss is as nice as an 'almost' kiss.

If am sad I no longer blame life. If am upset I no longer blame the world. It is all the fault of AD when I would be better off in SKD.

Lakshmiji is not a godess anymore. And 'mere bhagwanji', as I would say, is quite often replaced by devi maiyya as I hit my head with my palm. With it I tend to use words like parmeshwari and sankadevi. Add in a healthy dose of titliya as well.

When someone is holding on to someone I think its not the correct pose if not holding on to a little of the shirt. Am better at dealing with sadness, better at dealing with anger. It needn't always be sweet in fact the jhagda adds in the much needed spice. I now know better when to be quiet, and I know when to be chirpy when my man is upset. My husband's name has the perfect letters. And all you need to do is replace a 'v' with a 'b' to make me a fan from a wife. My marriage anniversary is not just my own but shared with the very same person am a fan of.

What the, dammit definitely a part of my vocabulary. And I would have it no other way. Who says I love you anymore. Its not love till it has a bit of dammit in it.

India Forum open on all browsers.. on my phone, laptop, ipad. Blasters my friends. My friends know their msgs may get delayed replies because I am busy replying to my forum friends. My friends no longer bother to call me mad, they know am completely irrevocably mad. My family when visitng know I may randomly get stuck looking at the screen typing furiously. My mornings start even before my eyes are open with me refreshing my posts. My nights end as my eyes are drooping still desperately refreshing my posts.

I no longer just read, I write as well. Fan fiction reading as important as story book reading. I now take screen shots. I am no longer at a loss at what to ask for gifts. The best gift I got was HD episodes of IPK. I am no longer ever bored. There is always an episode to watch. A discussion to be part of.

If Iss Pyaar Ko Kyaa Naam Doon brought happiness, brightness, excitement in my life, blasters have brought in inspiration. Can't thank you both enough for making such a big difference in my life.

Happy anniversary everyone! I am very very extremely lucky to get a chance to enjoy the show and it is an absolute privilege that I get to enjoy it with you all.

Thank you ...