straightforward !!

Vinita Vishwanathans Bed Time Stories-Part 2.

2008-12-13T22:12:00.002+05:30

I raised my eyebrows...and so did my friends when we read one of you readers comments.
A comment that came out with a 'Nice Secret' about Vinita Vishwanathan.
'Vinita Vishwanathan lost her virginity to her 10th standard Coaching class teacher.

We all said...Lucky Man!!! To have fucked a whore first...and that too for free!
From facts where men pay indecent amounts of money to be accompanied by not so virgin 'escorts' to bazaars where virgin girls are auctioned in the flesh trade...Teacher got very lucky.
Oh by the way, lets call this dude Teacher.

So we got around with some prying and prancing. Some said it was the first man ever to have given Vinita Vishwanathan even a second glance that she succumbed to him, others joked how it was a threat by Teacher to tell her parents about her bad marks and the barter was Sex for Safeguard. Well the latter almost sounded like a mini porn story. Ha! The difference is the antagonist here has no resemblance to the likes of Jenna Jameson.

Vinita Vishwanathan was never really a threat to bright students when it came to scoring marks or extra curricular activities. More so she was a black sheep in school to which even her teachers at Mount Carmel vouch for.
Always a loner with no friends, or the persona or intelligence to be popular academically, K G Vishwanathan and Naraini Kutti were surprised and happy when their Vicious Vinita started going to her tuitions religiously and eagerly.
They probably thought the change would be good and the daughter would get into a good stream and make them feel proud the day the board results came out.
Teacher too gave Naraini Kutti good feedbacks about Vinita Vishwanathan.
Afterall free sex make men go to any lengths this was just giving a paradoxical feedback.
And the Vishwanathans had no reasons to suspect.
The daughter was attending tuitions everyday the coaching teacher was taking good lessons and it was safe to send their duaghter to him. You see he was married!
What K G Vishwanathan and Naraini Kutty dint anticipate was that their daughter had already become 'the Other Woman' at the age of 14 by giving blow-jobs and doggie-style to Teacher and playing the role of Mistress of Vices.
Foolish Vinita would discuss her escapades with her best friend. A best friend who was equally downtrodden. What with getting pregnant in her teen age years by a man and eventually getting married to another man who sympathized and consumed her in his life as a charity cake.Vinita Vishwanathan truly believed Teacher loved her and would spend the rest of his life with her.
School hours were spent day dreaming about the lusty sessions and the score cards would keep dipping...sometimes into the borderlines of red....
Result day surprised K G Vishwanathan since daughter had scored only enough to barely get her into Commerce and a few days later Vinita Vishwanathan was thrown out by Teacher from his life and Vision.
You see the Barter wasnt as lucrative enough anymore...and no man likes risking his family for a whore!

Vinita Vishwanathan's "BED-TIME" Stories- Part 1.

2008-10-31T15:02:00.003+05:30

I am starting a new series on the obnoxious & brickbats laden Vinita Vishwanathan....
Its called Vinita Vishwanathan's "BED TIME" stories... and here is the first part which is basically my reply to one of the commments to the former post.

@ anonymous (the one who was back again as the 21st & 23rd comment in the post Vinita Vishwanathan):
I feel sad that ure also in the list of people who've been wronged by Vinita Vishwanathan. Its sad that she has a conscience so hollow that it dint itch her the first time she wronged someone that she went on into an infinite loop. I fail to understand what inspired or conspired in her mind that she did what she did. To worsen things she doesnt have it in her to even apologize. Why else do u think have I not cared two hoots about her reputation or even her family. She should have thought about all this when she was at it. Of some virtues imbibed into me one of it is 'Never let down your family name and never beget shame unto your parents. 'Did her parents Mr. K G Vishwanathan & Ms. Naraini Kutty forget to teach her all this?? I'm afraid they have... afterall kids are the living testaments and reflection of the virtues or vices parents put into their upringing. In this scenario Mr. K G Vishwanathan & Ms. Naraini have done a great job in bringing up Vinita 'Viced up' Vishwanathan. And you know sire whats funny...on one ocassion when I pointed a finger at her upbringing Vinita Vishwanathan said 'let us not delve into the parenting TRICKS'. I felt disgusted...everything in her life is based on tricks & treason. As for your comment sire...I am glad ur considerate enough to wish me peace. But the sad part is...I still dont feel content. I still feel my revenge is incomplete.. I still feel I havent done enough. A large part of me says I'll be done when Vinita Vishwanathan begs for mercy and cries in font of me...and the paradox is a large number of people say its my flight of fantasy as Vinita Vishwanathan is not the types to accept defeat or say sorry to another woman. Yet there is a voice inside me that says this will happen..eventually..I dont know when..but I am sure it will. I pray she has a gruesome end...that when she lies on her death-bed a hundred people spit on her memories, let many more refer to her departed soul as the one of a slut and may her extended family heave a sigh of relief that a sinister has been deducted from the family tree. I know all this will happen...but I do not want it to happen till Ive got her in front of me begging for mercy. If I sound like a saddist or a woman scorned and gone mad I'll tell the world "suit yourself"...cuse when it comes to Vinita Vishwanathan...I'll settle for noting less than ten pounds of flesh for an eye...who cares if the whole world goes blind.Waiting for your reply if any sire...

Vinita Vishwanathan's other dirty secrets...

2008-10-01T16:15:00.006+05:30

Below is a mail sent to both Madaame Vishwanathan and a extremely close friend (the degree of closeness is a wild wild guess) ofhers who happens to be married and prefers going out for dates with her while his wife and kid are away...
I'll put the mail strings in a few days...as well as the telephonic audios...

Dear Mr. A Ahuja,
Firstly good day,I am sure by now you must be now aware of my identity, due to your proximity , by however measure may that be, to Vinita Vishwanathan. I happen to be a recipient of the thread of emails exchanged between you, her and asim mittal.What surprises me is that a man of your age, with a wife and kid at home has the time to be over friendly with a girl who has had a shoddy tarnished reputation & past herself by normal society standards.To be very honest Mr. Ahuja I am not least bit surprised with her over friendliness with men. She has had a history of similar acts. What surprises me is that men and I am not pointing at you, fall prey to it and in turn destroy what they have concrete.I understand that while you are reading this, there could be thoughts in your mind, after hearing what you had from Ms. Vishwanathan, that I am crazy or a whacko and that I am harassing you. Be assured Mr. Ahuja that such are not my intention.Being someone way younger, less wise, and far more inexperienced in life than yourself, I can only marvel that you've been blessed by a wife and kid. To comment on your marital life, is none of my business and right and so I shall not do so.We're strangers... both you and I, connected to an extremely gruesome person unintentionally. Be extremely assured that I have nothing against you or ever will.All I wish to tell you in good heart is Sir, Life is Beautiful yet complicated. Life Is supposed to be complicated, its not supposed to be simple and that after all adds to its mystery. Why knowingly complicate it? Why do something with open eyes that would make you regret it later. Some people are lucky sir, they get second chances but sometimes its too late to repair a damage. Off all my viewpoints, on marriage one of them is, its beautiful, sacrosanct, pure, honest and that nothing is Before or Beyond your better half. Many men who have been associated with Ms. Vishwanathan have had to pay dearly. Some with beautiful relationships that they already had but dint value it due to her presence. Some with lies, dishonesty, when all she did was cheat, be non comimttal, manipulative to satisfy her own egotistical issues and demands. Many people have suffered and shed tears because of Vinita Vishwanathan and I am sure Mr. Ahuja that nobodies 'Tears' go down the drain. What Ms. Vishwanathan will endure, which I am sure she will, is to her karma, but I sincerely hope that One more human being doesnt suffer because of her. You can send this mail to the trash can, but do remember my words: Association with Vinita Vishwanathan is just not worth it., All it will ever bring to anyone is distress, problems and complications in their life. She is a Living Personification of Evil who walks into peoples lives pretending to be something that she isn't, but when you realize its too late, and when she walks out she has destroyed everything.Just Keep these words in mind sir. I honestly wish you well.

B'bye, take care, eat well, Keep smiling and remember "Life is Beautiful".
This is unfortunately Amazing Archie signing out.http://www.amazing-archie.blogspot.com

"When you climb a mountain called 'Success', there is a dog following you by the name of Ego".

Vinita Vishwanathans Cheating Encounters

2008-08-23T12:59:00.007+05:30

London is pleasant... and I started typing this after a flight diversion from Heathrow landed me at Gatwick. I know by the time its finally published some of you might be dying to read more about that Infamous woman. To be honest at first I dint want to even type her name. It almost felt like I would spoil the London air. Its a morally uptight society here and even typing the name of a "Society-Slut" seems to be blasphemous!

But then I looked at my title bar and realized the name with the equally downtrodden family name had been typed. So what the heck!

One of my co-passengers happened to be from moi 'Bharat' albeit working at a rival I-Bank and a little chit-chatting later I found out he was from an eye-brow raising 'babu-giri' (bureaucratic) family. Most of the time my first question to a stranger is about his or her school and so this one turned out to be from Delhi Public School-Ram Krishna Puram. I know I could have typed just DPS-RKPuram, but you see I have people reading Amazing Archie's Straightforward not just in India but also in Europe and Northern America and some Far South-Eastern countries.
This gentleman happened to be a couple of years my senior...and the moment he mentioned DPS-RKP some-teeny tiny pleasant sounding bell rang somewhere.
I knew this would be fun!!!

"Sire I happen to know some of the products from RKP."
"Oh yeah?? Who?"
"For starters a certain Mr. W@s!# Z@!d!."
"Oh yeah he was in the school for a couple of years, happened to be a junior of mine. Pretty smart chap."
"Hmm... "
"That certain Mr. Z@!d! had a friend Mr. Rohan..."
"Well I dont remember such a guy...Mam"
"Oh you would'nt know him I guess.."
I sipped the white wine from the plastic tumbler in the British Airways flight. A trans-continental flight had never got so interesting.
"Roh@n Dh!llon", I murmerd under my breath and smiled.

I couldnt wait for the plane to touch the Heathrow runway. You must be wondering why I dint open my Laptop and start typing right away. Well hell the stranger was my co-passenger and I was flying economy. I dint want more questions to crop up then the already..'where do you stay?' and 'what does your husband do?' after seeing that huge rock on my ring finger.
"He works for Daimler Chrysler".
"Oh any perks for that...like a free Maybach", the man kept asking.
"Not yet but my husband has said its coming soon."
"Thats nice."

After all the jazz of the flight being diverted to Gatwick, I almost got up while the air-plane was still taxiing towards the aero-bridge. You see thats how kicked I was to type this post.

Coming to the recent antagonist of Straightforward! Madaame Vinita. I like the sound of it.
It was during her visit to her parents in Delhi that she decided to meet up with a friend of her then boyfriend W@$!m (W Z in the previous posts). Yeah it was the same guy mentioned above. Roh@n Dh!llon.
Roh@n and W Z were buddies from their Le Martinere college days in Nawabi Lucknow. Yeah Roh@n belonged to the school swimming team and was a handsome young lad.
Yeah he also carried himself well!
Roh@n had this wonderful trait of being overfriendly with any one around. Man, woman or even animals.
Roha@n had both the traits a man requires to guarantee make-out sessions with Madaame Vinita. He was good looking, smart and carried himself well.
The year happened to be somewhere around 2004-05 when she was in her 3rd year of Law.
The meeting made Madaame Vinita a classic case of a Bitch-in-heat.
This is how I am told her mind worked....
''Here is a guy so smart handsome and good looking, then what the hell am I doing with a guy like W@$!m???''
This said mentally, Madaame Vinita vanished to one of the backrooms and let Smart Boy Roh@n graduate from the first to the second, third or even fourth levels. I regret again I wasnt witness to the actions of Vinita and her lusty sessions.
Suddenly Madaame Vinita did what every society slut does best. Make it look like she wasnt in her senses...and when the act is over only then do they realize that, "This is not right, we shouldnt be doing this".
Well smart boy dint care. He knew women always said this to sound coy.

She dint let W Z know of this sexual-encounter. You see their are some people who live by "What the partner does'nt know, dint happen!"
Vinita belongs to that category.
Next Mr. Smart Boy decided to pay a visit to his school buddy W Z in the city where Madaame Vinita and W Z were pursuing their Law together (in the same college from the same house) and have some fun with his girl too. Oh I am sorry by this time, 'THEIR", girl too or should I mention public property???

There again the woman continued to cheat on W Z who had absolutely no clue of what his infidel girlfriend and baccha-buddy were upto. Poor him.

Madaame Vinita made meticulous plans to ensure W Z never found out.

Smart Boy Roh@n made it absolutely clear that he was in no mood for something more concrete. I hear him telling one of his friends about Vinita, "When a girl can cheat on a guy like W Z, with me, am I a fool born yesterday to risk having such a slut with me, who must have lost count of the men she has bedded!"

Madaame Vinita dint care, as long as one bird W Z was in the hand she dint mind going into the bushes to have fun with the others!

I recollect a statement that Madaame Vinita made to me. Yeah it made me smile....when she said that I had managed to completely spoil her reputation even before her antics were published here.
Either the slut completely underestimated me or dint know the magnitude of 'completely'.
She'll soon find out.

Need I even type anything more. You see I would have if I was at Sohos where the like of Madaame Vinita are found in ample.

Vinita Vishwanathans VIRGIN Encounters!

2008-07-21T14:01:00.012+05:30

A sneak peak into the infidelities of 'The Other Woman'.

Sin and the sinister have a habit of trying to get many unto the journey that they travel. They know not how to stop for they do not want to stop and they thrive on a minuscule amount of ignorance and innocence thinking 'the more people follow or get trapped in their deeds' the less sinful they are.

How could V!nita V!shwanathan be any exception to this?

It started when she was with her second boyfriend, in her desperate years to enlighten herself, trying hard, as a student in the Legal Education. This second boyfriend of her is the successor to the first boyfriend, which was the one she had in her first year (she got attracted for the same-by-now-stale reason... of a man being extremely well read and carrying himself well). The first boyfriend was of course in his last year and so the differences between first and last was enough to spell kaput to the so called relationship. (With Madaame Vishwanathan its safest to term 'SO CALLED').
Now boyfriend number 2 was no less a mean feat (trust my judgement if youre reading my blog 'cuse Ive interacted with the guy. With all the charms and persona and plus coming from an illustrious family who've had their roots in Nawabi Lucknow with even the boys father at an enviable post at the International Civil Aviation Organistion, Madaame Vishwanathans second catch was nothing less than Jackpot! By sensible terms! (Its clearly evident though that she lacks the afore mentioned adjective). The only hitch could have been religion, you see boyfriend number 2 in law college followed the religion propagated by the great Prophet Mohammed. This however was taken care of because 'The Other Woman' ( Madaame Vishwanathan of course) had the more than 100% consent of her parents, more importantly her Father who dint object when she was living in with him in the city where they were pursuing their education, yeah at the same institute.
Two years with boyfriend number 2 and things seemed to go downhill. 'The Other Woman', always had attention seeking psychosis and it troubled her no ends that Boyfriend Number 2 (Lets call him W Z hereafter) wouldn't give her, her dosage of attention while they would socialize out. So she would bitch about him on his back (now thats something I can personally vouch for) complaining how she dint like the way W Z carried himself.
So here you have a constant attention seeker as a girl, a socializing boy , two years of a SO CALLED relationship which seems to be the Upper resistance level in case of Madaame Vishwanathan (forgive my equity markets lingo) and the infidel in her coming to life, more and more every single day.....
Opportunity was just wavering around to strike.

Madaame Vishwanathan was meeting an old acquaintance who had helped her in becoming familiar with a new city while she moved from the Country's capital to a new city. There at an eatery she met a friend of this friend and Madaame Vishwanathan's already-weak-knees-for-men gave away like butter-on-fire. All this while she was still in a SO CALLED relationship with W Z.
Then started the V!nita 'INFIDEL' V!shwanathans cheating soiree with this guy (Lets call him @rp!t S) who happens to belong to this City by the Sea Bombay...
Lets use V!nitas lingo and say "She hit it off with him instantly" (she always hits its off instantly guys :D)
Regular phone conversations were encouraging enough for her to pay a visit to Bombay and stay at his place (do not forget her still SO CALLED status as W Z 's Girlfriend all this while) for a few days, including riding pillion with him on his bike while sightseeing, attending the Navy Ball and making out (please dont ask me if it was more than that cuse guys I regretfully admit I wasn't in that car. For I swear, I swear on my dead fathers name I would have written the happenings here) with him in his car while returning back to spend the night at his place. Madaame Vishwanathan maintains his parents were around. I still have second thoughts about that.
So there you have Madaame Vishwanathan doing what she does best and has mastered since this incident happened...Cheat and complicate relationships.
@rp!t had no clue she is W Z'S girl all this while.
Next: @rp!t decides to pay a visit to Madaame Vishwanathan in her city which is just 192km away from Bombay. She decides that he should stay with her and creates a situation (man she is brilliant in making her self sound the victim in any given circumstance... my foolish ex boy friend/ her fourth boyfriend while she was a student vouches for the same) where she is unhappy to be with W Z and so gets the right to begin something fresh with @rp!t. Mind you she had not broken with W Z even then...
She takes @rp!t clubbing where a love-lorn W Z follows wondering where the hell did this Mar'tian drop down from to his Lady Lolita. W Z tries intervening and an ignorant @rp!t keeps wondering whats going on....
Madaame Vishwanathan takes new-toy-boy (@rp!t) home and ends his VIRGINITY that night. W Z is shattered and bangs the door next morning asking Lady Lolita what she is doing with New Toy-boy. I don't know if she had the face to tell W Z "Boney, Honey I slept with him while you were away".
All this drama staged by the great Drama Queen slowly came into No-more-a-virgin-after-that-night @rp!t's light who till now trusted Madaame Vishwanathan as the narrator. It struck him that the script of his affair with Madaame Vishwanathan and the narration by her were in no means congruent. @rp!t had had enough and walked out of the little sex cave of Madaame Vishwanathan. "I've had enough, I just cant do this", he said departing. So sad enough Madaame Vishwanathan had a new toy only for a night (dont be disheartened guys the list is not over yet..new posts new toy-boy names..remember).
With a lost-his-virginity-to-an-already-a-non-virgin-since-a-long-time-V!nita @rp!t gone, Madaame Vishwanathan put into practice her ever ready plans. W Z could not to be let gone. You see Madaame derives her strength from the men in her life. Its easy for any man to sweep her off her feet. She claims a good persona and well read men sweep her off her feet but my interaction with her at a personal level and judging her intellectual awareness, let me tell you guys 'Reading an hour of even the previous years Manorama Year Book and attending a couple of personality development classes is the safest bet to gurentee you a More-than-make-out session with Madaame Vishwanathan'.
Tell her how beautifully her hair falls on her face, or how pretty her pictures are in her cell phone (which by all means she will show you...thats her way of breaking ice with strangers) and Lolita Vinita will purr as her pet ex pussies in front of you begging and whimpering to be with you.
If you do so unknowingly she chases you no ends to the extent of breaking your current relationship (if you have one) and if you do so intentionally well your intentions shall be well rewarded.
Going back... W Z was ready to work things out with her and forgave her assuming she and toy-boy slept on separate beds really tired after the non stop dancing at the club. The Lord bless him!
She on her part still tried discreetly to get toy-boy back and this story unfolded to many more episodes which you'll find out in due time.
I smile again... here is the saga of the same woman who was scared of her reputation being spoiled when I tried to confront her.
Since when have confrontations spoiled reputations and not Numerous ONE NIGHT STANDS??

vinita vishwanathan

2008-06-05T14:40:00.006+05:30

Well at this point, I have loads of free time in my hand. What with the Equity Markets spiraling southwards throughout the world and the stream of bad news not approaching any full stop. So I decided to delve into the histrionics of the Other Woman. It started with me recollecting my conversation with her a few months back...

I, over the phone: "How does it feel to take men to places, book rooms and sleep with them?"
Her: "Its better than making out with them in isolated buildings. And yes all the men I have stayed in rooms, are pretty much my boyfriends at that point of time."

I analyzed, (as I said.. lots of free time)... was her explanatory last statement her way of saying... I am not a whore... whores sleep with men who aren't their boyfriends or husbands...?
But notice carefully... she mentioned 'MEN' and 'BOYFRIENDS', all in the plural. I wondered, what category of women like her are called, who have had multiple partners in an extremely short time? Not whores... agreed but then what?
Somebody please tell me!!

Now my explanation for using the term multiple partners in a sentence above...The height of it all is when the Other woman after dumping my foolish ex-boyfriend started dating other men. She took the cake when she dated two guys who happened to be roomies, in succession.
Yeah, she went to bed with both of them too.
And yes, both of them dumped her.
For what reason?
I was told that one of them, with whom she really wanted to be with wasn't singing to her tunes...

What are her tunes???
Her extremely hazy moral lines of being close to men, her wild partying antics, oh by the way... she still does the cheap job of hosting events, in malls and hotels where men view her with anything but dignity. She says she feels glamorous that way.
The fact that she wants the men in her life to accept her with these traits.

Coming back to why the guy dint want her (man he has noooo idea how lucky he is to have her out of his life):
She on her part was ready to change for him.
He on his part dint want to do much with a characterless woman.
Of course which man doesn't want some short fun fling for free.
However I really suspect a bedroom version here.
Now that the total-failure-in-bed stories of the Other Woman are well known I think the guy realized that the short fun fling wasn't fun after all!

To corroborate my conclusions on her character is the statement by her former landlord (lets name him a certain Mr. Shah) who was disgusted to even hear her name. He even enlightened the fact that the on stream of men into his house, where & when she was the tenant, never stopped. That the men were different people... and not just one man coming repeatedly. That the neighbors kept complaining as they dint want a characterless person next door, after all it happened to be a quite, peaceful and morally upright society in Bombay city.
Hearing this I couldn't help laughing. Only a few days back I had walked into the other womans workplace to demand a retracting statement. She dint show up... as expected, but sent in the security manager to talk to me and what he said amused me even further!!!

Security Manger: "Vin*ta is sacred of you. She thinks you will spoil her reputation."

I wondered.. does she even have a reputation??? Leave alone getting it spoilt!
A reputation is spoilt by oneself by the MISDEEDS that we do... not by someone confronting you... Isn't it???
Misdeeds in the Other womans case range from what I've mentioned in the older posts to the paragraphs above, to when she drove my foolish ex-boyfriend to attempt a suicide by telling him to go die somewhere in her cold heartless tone and when he was released from the hospital all that she told him was that he was a weak man (when I told her that she could have been booked for abetment to suicide, she said she had nothing to do with it as she just spoke angry words...yeah right thats why she was so concerned about being politically correct when the cops came to the hospital and noo the shameless bit*h that she is... she dint inform his parents while he was in the hospital)! To the fact when she told me..."Whenever, My EX'S want to meet me or are in town... I always tell them you are Welcome home."

Jesus!!!

What left me dumbstruck is that her Father is aware of her antics!!! That every time she goes out with a guy and stays in hotels he is duly informed. No, they aren't from any industrialist or modern day Yuppie class, but an ordinary middle class family. That the Father in turn, welcomes all the guys in her life at his place too. That he tells all of them, including my foolish ex-boyfriend, you are like a son to me. Now mind you he has a son after this Other Woman as an unfortunate daughter already... How many sons does he plan to accumulate is still unknown...
Which father behaves so casually to the continual shameful (by Indian standards) activities of a daughter soon approaching the marital age???
Another interesting fact came forth.... The Other woman took a position in Bombay and dint bother going back to her home city because she knows her LIFESTYLE, doesn't suit her parents!!! My O my... Girl going out with different guys to different places and staying with them in hotels is Okaayyyy with parents..... I only wonder what more does she do, that is NOT okay!!!Is it her going out for dinner dates with a married man who has a kid, while his wife and kid are away? Or her totally spoilt reputation back in her permanent domicile city, where even her neighbours know about her multiple men life? Or that her best friend is a beyond marriageable age guy but yet unmarried junkie, who is still jobless? Or that she gets too cozy with the husbands of her close-buddies that increase the people in her enemy list? Or she is a girl who is a misfit daughter for a mother who I've heard is a simpleton (but who cares...the father seems useless) ? Which of theses reasons make her 'lifestyle' unfit for her parents???? My guess is still on...............

P.S: After much deliberation and notifications later, the Other woman finally coughed up INR 12500/- for the articles she has kept in her position from my foolish ex-boyfriend. Like a fool she wanted an acknowledgement in the lines of a sale deed via an e-mail!
I on my part am smiling....2 years later..patience and perseverance is finally paying off...Two years back she tried to threaten me by calling the cops and tried for 2 full hours to file me under some section of the IPC/CrPC...when all I had done that day was gone to meet my foolish ex-boyfriend to ask him where we stood. Yeah she had failed miserably, inspite of being a student of Law. Two years back she 'tried to' to steal something extremely precious from me...
But I guess a thief will always be just that... in her case a characterless thief.
Two years from then, I have managed to reduce her association with my foolish ex-boyfriend to a Sale deed via electronic mail.
Thats what I call is the miracle of Hope and Prayers & the Victory of the Human Spirit.

A Chance encounter with the 'Other Woman'.

2008-04-19T15:52:00.011+05:30

{ Please Note: The post below might be slightly difficult to comprehend by a new reader, so to understand what it is all about, Ive eased out things for you guys. Here are the links of the old posts, which you could read before this post to understand the sequence 192 Kilometers Apart, a post for Asim back then and SPECIALLY & They say Happy Diwali...
Must I also mention that people who have written comments need not bother guessing the identity of the woman mentioned in the posts as it is obvious, as a name is already mentioned in one of the above posts and like one of you has mentioned in a comment. And also I am not moderating comments to any degree. So all sorts of comments, including Critiques, Abuses, Verboise against the mentioned character/entity(woman) or me is always welcome and shall be published. Also more facts and incidents will be published and are coming soon.... B'bye, take care, eat well, keep smiling & as of now for me 'Life is a bitch, but now she is smiling :)' }

My best friend since a decade is getting married. Precisely tomorrow the 20th day of the fourth month of this calendar year after 2008 years of Anno Domini. Its been a decade since I know him and am perhaps the only associate that's lasted that long. More than his frivolous affairs, flings, one night stands et al. To celebrate this fortunately unfortunate incident in his life he called me to his bachelors party that would span across pubs and discotheques around Bombay. I did go ahead with the invitation. Frankly because the last week took a toll on me both emotionally and then congruently physically too. I must also mention that it took a toll pretty surely on someone who once had the most important presence in my life but pretty much breached this right to disappear nonchalantly and has now reappeared and putting in efforts, once again trying to regain lost territory and titles. Excuse me if I sound like I am describing a Gothic war epic but I have every reason to state so. My life and its happenings astound the biggest believers in normalcy.
This was my second time pubbing/clubbing in my 22 years of existence. Yes, I hate pubbing. Why?? may u ask......
I never clubbed during my college or school days. My mother expected me not to and I was a pretty obedient daughter. I don't go clubbing since I have begun working. To be honest, my by now in/famous 'Class' factor comes into picture. The crowd that comes to pubs and clubs is by far the most hollow and shameless I've ever seen, who have zilch consideration for morality, decency, sophistication and to top it character. Must I admit though that if there were clubs that admitted only I-Bankers and by that I mean people who are analysts, strategists etc. who have an appreciable intellectual standing then I must assure you I would be seen in such a club. I would spend any indecent amount of money to buy a 'By invitation only' entree or membership.
The funny things happening on the dance floor when strangers take the liberty to touch each other at places where decency crosses limits makes me feel sick. Its tough to guess who is who's girlfriend and who has come in with whom and who has gone out with whom. In short I still maintain my stand of people visiting clubs and event management personnel's as 'Shallow'.
Period.
Since nearly ten grands of money had been spent (we still maintain our class and don't enter free by guest lists. That according to me is outright cheap) , I did dance. No I dint dress up for the occasion and just put on a top from Ritu Kumars 'LABEL' collection and a Marks & Spencers denim coupled with my ALDO stilettos. Don't I sound like a branded bitch? If I do then you're probably a new reader on my blog. The Tiesto music in one of the clubs made me feel bored and the world mix in the other, one of the most expensive clubs in my city, with girls dressed up looking like wannabe Barbie dolls or the ladies who walk on the India street of Geylang Sarai, Singapore, convinced me that I wouldn't want to be caught dead amongst such people.
Stop.
Go up a few paras.
The person who had the most importance in my life was my boyfriend. After a brief period in our lives where it is safe to assume that we broke up, by which I must mention that I had no clue about it since I wasn't given a closure at all, he started seeing the "Other woman". I am sure by now you don't need any more reason why our long distance relationship was over. I take the leeway of calling her the 'The Other Woman', because firstly He confessed quiet publicly with full honesty and integrity that 'she' was a wrong decision. Secondly the time he was with her it was pretty evident he wasn't entirely committed to her what with him giving me hostile and anonymous calls, letters and comments, proof enough that he wasn't happy by her side. What he was doing can easily be termed as 'Emotional Infidelity' aka emotionally cheating on her. This is where my second reasoning takes the form of description. A man will never cheat on the 'Other woman' (doesn't it sound funny? A man cheating on the 'Other' woman!!) with the first woman if he is content. No matter how much the 'Other Woman' boasts about 'Fantastic Chemistry' or 'Unsaid Understandings and Compatibility', the fact that the guy would cry secretly and forsee inevitable karma says it all. 'Nothing that you do will be enough', is what all the men in the 'Other' womans life complained and still believe, including my boyfriend. Finally a guy after having the 'Other woman' out of his life would never want to think of her while he is with another woman. I think this is the maximum amount of disrespect possible for the 'Other woman'. That's the confidence of reasoning why she was the 'Other woman', may God have the greatness to to ease her pain and sufferings when she pays for her sins. Sins that super cede many. After all many collective hearts, prayers and people together have cursed her and wish her ill.
Stop again.
I looked around the dance floor. I was witness to shallow characters. Then I recollected the statement by my boyfriend who said that while he was with her (of course the 'Other woman') he was disgusted with the way she would let other men touch her all over in discotheques in front of him, how her home was an 'Open Access Motel' to guys after a night of wild partying and drinks.
I smiled. Again, only the 'Other' woman could display such a behavior...isn't it?. When my foolish boyfriend (I safely call him foolish because a lot of people around knew these traits of that 'Other' woman and he totally disregarded these when I warned him. After all men stray, suffer and then acknowledge the Other woman as 'Bad') tried to stop her from behaving so immorally she accused him of being a remote control sitting far away, pushing 'her buttons ' and dumped him. Which 'buttons' she refers to that he could push...amuses me. Excuse me if my imagination is running wild!
Fact 1: Only the 'Other' woman regards the normal reaction of a concerned guy/boyfriend as acting controlling.
Fact 2: Only the 'Other' woman can be callous enough in a dance floor and dance with another man, let alone let another man touch her, when her ill-gotten boyfriend is around.
Fact 3: Only the 'Other' woman makes up her mind to dump a man, take all services for relocation including a refrigerator and television and not returning them once the relationship is off. Freeloader I was told she was...Freeloader is what I still maintain.
Fact 4: Only the 'Other' woman has the insecurity of loosing grip over the guy if she lets him walk with his so-called-ex to the police station, that she gives up the comfort of her bike and tells "All three of us will go walking".
Man I feel like laughing in hindsight.
Yeah I met the 'Other' woman. There were questions and pieces that needed to be answered.
The first thing she said before we started an amicable conversation was, "I am sorry for whatever happened."
The boyfriend was concerned I would loose my Leo temper, get abusive and slap her..which honestly was pretty much my plan. My legal counsel and concerned kith warned me against it. Plus I knew if I maintained my greatness above her by simply treating her calmly and nicely in spite of what she had put me through I would belittle her unfathomably. Every time she spoke I assured her that I trusted her and I was accepting everything that she said. That was my weaponry to insult the 'Other woman'. I dint forgive the 'Other woman'. How could I?
Fact 5: Only the 'Other woman' needs to tell a sorry.
She went pale on finding out that she couldn't have him all to herself while he was with her when the boyfriend confessed I was in his mind. She was troubled to find out that I was now aware she had a 1 minute libido and that any man would be grossly mistaken to think her to be a fire on bed. It seems she was frustrating in the mating act. One of the major factors why any man with her who's had a great partner before (in bed I mean) would think of the ex...to relieve himself.
I really in full honesty wanted to advice her to go see a Sexologist. It wouldn't be such a bad idea... after all if she wants to prevent future men in her life from cheating on her for the most primitive of carnal acts and many foresee that she would be the recipient of the seeds that she has sown, it would hurt her self esteem no ends if THIS would be the reason for her being dumped.
Stop right there.
My best pal shook me up. He asked me what was I thinking.
I smiled. I went back time...just a few days back and recollected the way my boyfriend had apologized teary eyed. The promise he made that he would be there every step while I healed. This time the tables had turned. Life had come a full circle. Indeed.
Fact 6: She sat at the other side of the table at the airport, where we had taken a chance to catch hold of her, whereas me and the common boyfriend sat on one side. This fact said it all...
After all she was, is and will always be....
The Other Woman.

@ the Ice-Cream parlour.

2008-03-19T02:31:00.003+05:30

In these mental chaos and myriad possibilities that constitute my life, a life that I truly have every reason to believe is less ordinary, happened something ironical thats made me type this post at the indecent hour of 3 a.m.
Feeling rather stressed and confused I called little sis to join me for an ice-cream hogging session. Ice-cream may I inform you happens to be my feel-good food along with chocolates and the Nawabi biryani. We headed to the new and a popular ice-cream parlour outside my building premises and settled for our respective selections after a short flavour tasting session from amongst the 31 arrays the chain always boasts of.
The joint had just two customers present...me and lil sis and to cut electricity bills...that being my guess...the music was kept abysmally low. I even wonder what temperature was the aircon at...
I nearly had finished my ice-cream when two women walked into the parlour. My first reaction looking at them was the stuff you would hypocritically categorize me into the spoilt-bitch segment.
Yes, I honestly wondered and even knew for a fact that they just wouldn't want to spend money on over-priced americanized ice-creams. Did my presence, that could be easily seen from the glass walls, deceive them into coming inside???
I wondered. For must I also admit the fact that at leisure and casual hours my overall appearance can make even street urchins gather the guts to walk into stores which proudly display the tag 'Right of Admission Reserved'.
I dint bother much but was forced to acknowledge the presence of these two seemingly first time customers one of whom happened to be a mother and the other her daughter or some equivalent relationship, when the music was suddenly put on audible volume. It was one of those popular 50-cents track.
Right then something caught my attention. Noises.
The noises that they made.
"They are deaf and dumb", I told lil sis.
"Hmm.." she replied back casually.
That is where all the casualness ended.
The personnel across the counter was not adept at handling special cases like these; like most of us and was writing down obviously the prices. There was a communication problem and so I jumped to offer help.
I knew the dilemma that the ladies were facing was whether the number written there was the cost of one flavour or both and if one then how the hell was it so much more than conventional prices.
I asked the fellow across to lower the music. I mean obviously he had increased the volume for the respective ladies which they couldn't even hear and now it was more important to get the pricing across with gestures etc. unless he wanted to take up the additional chore of explaining to them in detail the lyrics of the music in the background too and give the more value for money. The fellow did as asked.
I, on the other hand debuted the role of a messenger-in-a-store for people with hearing disabilities. Somehow I gestured money and raised my hand up to show more...for the chocolate flavour and down for the sorbets trying to tell that different flavours had different prices. What the ladies then decided, communicating the way they did was just beyond my comprehension. I dint offer to buy them because I personally felt that would in some way mean a little offensive or pitiful. So I wished both of them a goodbye and walked out with my sis.
Its comforting and easier to walk out of stores when your the lone customer in the company of pocket digging price tags. I state this from personal experience.
The paradoxes of situations in the whole incident...left me surprised.
Not for nothing do I say...Life is indeed a bitch, yet she always goes on....

Review: 'Interpreter of Maladies', by Jhumpa Lahiri.

2008-01-17T01:28:00.000+05:30

Review: I guess age has after all caught up with me and 22 years of my existence on earth has slowed down my reading speed. I finished this book in 2 days, when kith and kin had previously enlightened me that it took most of them a day or a few hours. Surprisingly one of them happens to be more than half a decade older than I.

Coming to the book, Interpreter of Maladies is a collection of short stories with characters who are majority Bengalis and migrants at that (to the United States of America). I guess Lahiri coming from a lineage of migrant Bongs has aptly banked on this fact of her life. If you've seen 'The Namesake', you'd know what am I writing about. The book and the movie inspired by it and directed by Mira Nair are by Lahiri again and are what I believe are Lahiris trademark Bongish attempts at writing.

Out of the 9 short stories the only worthwhile ones were the first 'A Temporary Matter' and the third 'Interpreter of Maladies' from which the book inspires its name.. The only word that comes to my mind for all the other stories is 'Silly'. The silliest of them all being the last one 'The Third and Final Continent'. I was hoping that at least this story would be good enough to camouflage the rest of the book but after finishing the last page I honestly uttered what shit. Well I am surprised how come the author or the many proof-readers make a glaring mistake of calling the regional language of Orissa as Orissi rather than the actual Oriya. Even the social networking site of Orkut has got it right in languages I speak section. I wonder what was the publisher Harper Collins thinking. Would I recommend this book? Oh certainly not! Aesop's Fables are better in short stories than this ordinary, silly and time wasting, emotionally and intellectually foolish proving piece of trash. I agree simplicity in language is something very few writers posses. But as I mentioned before simple is not the word that comes to mind when I have o remark on this book is silly again. I still wonder what made it win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2000.

The only saving grace...this book wasn't purchased by me, it was borrowed.

Verdict: The book finds itself in my list of 'books that let me down' to the right of my blog page.

We weren't lovers like that- Part 2

2008-01-03T00:35:00.000+05:30

I sat thinking. It had been long since I came up with a satisfying answer to life and her weird questions. I truly could have skipped this one, terming it inconsequential. I was not being assessed and I certainly wasn't going to score brownie points if I came up with an apt answer. But I still chose to. Simply because the scenario arose from you and maybe...an undecided part of 'maybe', in me, still thinks you have that much amount of importance in my life....to get me into my thinking mode and come up with philosophical rhetoric's.
We are walking on distant roads, both you and I, trying to figure out the common path that leads to each other and we both know somewhere walking together once again would never be easy.
Why? Is a difficult question.
In your case I don't know.
In my case its more of...I tried enough in the last few years...now I am tired...and don't want to.
Also, I am sure you know, for me to keep trying I need to see the spark...to get going on my passion. My passion for you is long dead. It was one of the last things must I admit, to die...when a part of me was dying every day...slowly...painfully...when you turned your face and walked away. I truthfully, justifiably and not deliberately am using the term 'walked away', instead of the now banal 'dumped' or 'ditched' that teenagers or mushy Mills and Boons reading youngsters do in failed relationships. You and I dint belong to that category, you and I dint share something so hollow, I'd still like to believe we had something intensely deeper...after all we weren't lovers like that.
In that deep bond we shared I was like a glass sheet in front of u....in your hands. I let you see me, through me, let you be the witness to every day whether good or bad in my life, not one fragment of my life hidden. So you can imagine what I feel to this day of my life when u dropped me that day...turning me into unwanted shards. Breaking me into pieces.
A lot many people told me I was in wrong hands and I was meant to be broken...they were the once who helped me gather myself back. Others said I was too fragile to be handled by anybody...they were the once who inspired me to remould myself into a newer piece with far more tensile strength that was formerly hard for me to imagine.
Since then I've had people hold me...touch me...look at me...and now they do it with a certain amount of ease...they know now that I am unbreakable.
Somewhere I want to thank you, cause it was for you that I have become this way but somewhere I have an unprecedented bitterness for you, I never wanted to be this way. Unbreakable, stone cold, emotionless to the point that I can shut my eyes at any point of time and pretend 'everything is alright'. Ive become this walking talking mockery of human emotions and values. The episode you put me through inspired me to become this way. I know you would say it was my choice. Yes I was weak. I let myself change, maybe to the worst possible manner. But I changed to survive. This was my path to survival.
In this time that we've been away from one another I realised that it was no use believing anymore...keeping afloat with my hope anymore. We both failed. I dint understand your silence, you failed to feel my expressions. To add to the trouble we had distance and other people walking into the picture. True lovers with the will and determination to make it to a destination of being together never allow circumstances and people to cause cracks between them....I guess we weren't lovers like that.
I let go off my hope...it was a practical and the only thing left to do. With that float I let go off my respect, awe, love, pride and a certain amount of attachment that I had for you. I really don't know if that float is still bobbing against some tide of destiny in the ocean of life. What I do know has drowned certainly is trust. Trust that I had in you.
It disgusts me when you start judging me, giving me emotional tests where you announce I will have to live up to your expectations, be under your keen eye in order to get your approval, in order to win you affection or any kind of reciprocation from your side, while you take your time. To be honest I am filled with wonderment. I wonder what would I do if I was in your shoes?
For starters I'd agree to be the examinee rather than the examiner for a really long time, even if we shared nothing more than cordial pleasantries. I'd tolerate every outburst of anger and wishes of revenge in moments of extreme anger knowing fully well how much of a sin I had committed by dragging a person to a place where you'd drag thieves, criminals, rapists from street corner's, knowing fully well how much of love the person had for me and trusted me to be safest in my hands. I'd apologize and wait for approval from the person every single day even going out of my way, for putting the person through so much of pain and deserting them in their moment of need. And I certainly wouldn't call the person abnormal and psychologically retarded even in light moments when life has given me a chance to apologize and rectify things when I know the person remembers days gone by when I called them 'a one way ticket to no where' and 'a lost cause' . Remarks like these stay etched in the memory for ever. But 'I' would do these if 'I' was in your shoes. In reality that's not the case. But let me assure you I am not waiting for your approval. I think you very well also know that. What I feel for people at an instant is mentioned by me. I don't look for reciprocation's. Its just that I feel life is too short to keep feelings of any kind, to be mentioned at a later date.
To be brutally honest I'd be damned if I have to work towards getting your approval of any kind especially love after what you've put me through. Yeah I still believe in love and want to love a man who would be the centre of my life, make me smile every single day and let me know how happy he to have me with him. Yes that part of mushy love is still their in me...coming to life every single day. But I shall and will never let you in a position where you decide if you approve of me, be it any manner. You lost that right. You know that very well and if you don't maybe you should.
You mentioned, ' It feels so bad when you're the reason for someones pain and sorrow, when you've made them go through so much agony and you cant be their reason for happiness.' According to me this is how in an ideal situation a person full of guilt, remorse and sorry react...
I think any sensible person should do this..
'If they've been a cause for someones pain..they should be selfless for once..and keep the other persons happiness above their own...and give them the happiness...even if it causes them discomfort...everything comes at a cost...here its the cost of giving someone a reason to cry...'
But I am sure the scenario you and I were, was in no way ideal and that its easier said than done. Take my word when I mention I, in no way am provoking you do as I wish. I agree that I still have bitterness and a sense of disgust against you. But I also know that I am a better human than you taking my healing period and still in d process to move on. I have a sense of pride knowing well that I still have a warm heart that melts when anyone is hurt or is in pain. That the way you've treated me in the past gives me every reason to shun you forever but I still choose not to...not because I want to do you a favor simply because I still believe in destiny and karma....
You and I could pretend to be strangers forever in our past as well as present disowning what we had. People in a superficial flings of love tend to do that. I guess we weren't lovers like that.

Review: "Taare Zameen Par".

2007-12-22T01:12:00.000+05:30

Dekho inhe ye hai oos ki boondein

Patto ki godh mein aasmaa se koode

Angdaayi le phir karvat badalkar

Nazuk se moti...has de fisal kar

Khona jaaye yeh taarein zameen par...

A week back while driving down the lane outside Plaza Cinema, Dadar, I saw the poster of Tare Zameen Par and cribbed that damn... Aamir Khans much awaited movie was for kids!!!

But after watching this one I must admit its a milestone for Indian Cinema. Its what you call Bollywood coming of age..where you can still have movies that arent inspired/rip offs/copied/remixed/remade. I would say dont be surprised if this one reaches the final list the foreign films category at the Oscars and even goes ahead and wins it.

I wouldnt be surprised if Darsheel Safary playing the protagonist Ishaan Awasthi wins a Filmfare in the Best Actors category. I hear he was selected from a bunch of kids who came after seing 'WANTED' posters at Shiamak Davars Dance Academy. Yeah the poster mentioned 'naughty ki'd and Darsheels kins asked him to go ahead. The rest who knows could make history!!!

I wont mention anything about the film cuse any superlatively appreciative Adjective would be too little to do justice to this perfect piece of Cinema.

The trio of Shankar Ehsaan and Loy have again created magic especially with the song Maa.. every woman in the hall was crying . Every man and kid was quite. These are the stuff you could watch multiple times and still watch it again.

My Verdict on the Movie: I wont give it a Thumbs Up... Ill raise both my hands for Taare Zameen Par.

Review: Khoya Khoya Chand.

2007-12-17T16:53:00.000+05:30

"Kyun khoya khoya chaand ki firaak me talaash me udaas hai dil?
Kyun apne aap se khafa khafa zara zara sa naaraaz hai dil?"

Their was no reason I was gonna miss this movie...
Firstly it was long since I watched one... the last one being a debacle called 'Laaga Chunri mein Daag'.
I've heard a lot about Sudhir Mishra's movies..what with Hazaaron Khwaaishein Aisi and Is Raat Ki Koi Subah Nahi...
So I convinced my collegue and went for a night show.
I knew I wudnt be dissapointed. [A] cuse I appreciate the fact that Mishra is creative with his titles ( and to a certain extent even the movie or its backbone) being inspired by Mirza Ghalibs poetry couplets.
The movie is a visual treat, with the Bombay of the late 1950's and '60s being really well represented.
But what a debacle with the costumes of Shiney Ahuja playing the role of Zafar, who I seriously think comes across as trying to hard to sound convincing as a Lucknow Nawaabzaada.
Pathetic dialogue delivery from his side.
Period.
The petite Soha Ali Khan playing the role of Nikhat is unmistakably draped in the oh-so-1960'ish-sarees and blouses and prints...
Coming to the movie... what was the story???
I would say was their any???
Not really.
It deals with the complexities of life.
I believe Mishra knows his audience well. People coming to watch his movies should atleast be aware of Ghalib poetry, which in-turn states the fact that they are capable enough to understand the complexities of very banal situations in life.
In the case of this movie, what is absolutely forthright is the fact that probably the Indian movie industry is the only fraternity that is way ahead of its time where bigamy/polygamy/ or even multigamy holds no barriers when two people love each other.
That sleeping around is just that... a temporary gratification and nothing more... and its perfectly okkkaish for a man to accept his woman after learning the fact that she has had a lot of fun/circumstantial acts or whatever you want to name it, when he wasnt around.
Same holds for the woman.
The cinematography is brilliant and Ghalibs poetry is incorporated seemlessly.
My take on the movie: Go ahead and watch it once...but strictly if you are a Ghalib fan... not otherwise.
And please do read the poetry before you watch the movie..
It would help you understand the nuisances of the movie better.
For people who would have difficulty finding it..

Here it goes:

Aaj shab jo chaand ne hai roothney ki thaan li,
Gardhishon me hain sitaarey, baat humney maan li;
Andheri syaah zindagi ko soojhti nahin gali,
Kay aaj haath thaam lo ek haath ki kami khali;

Kyun khoya khoya chaand ki firaak me talaash me udaas hai dil?
Kyun apne aap se khafa khafa zara zara sa naaraaz hai dil?

Ye manzilen bhi khud hi tay karen, ye faasley bhi khud hi tay karen,
Kyun raasto pe phir sehem sehem sambhal sambhal ke chalta hai ye dil?Kyun khoya khoya chaand ki firaak me talaash me udaas hai dil?

Zindagi sawaalon ke jawaab dhoondne chali,
Jawaab me sawaalon ki ek lambi si ladi mili,
Sawaal hi sawaal hain, soojhti nahi gali
Kay aaj haath thaam lo, ek haath ki kami khali

Jee me aata hai, murdaa, sitaarey noch loon
Idhar bhi, noch looN, udhar bhi, noch loon
Ek-do kaa zikra kyaa, main saarey noch loon
Main saarey noch looN

Idhar bhi noch loon, udhar bhi noch loon,
Sitaarey noch loon, main saarey noch loon;

Kyun tu aaj itna veheshee hai, mizaaj me majaaz hai aye gham-e-dil?Kyun apne aap se khafa khafa zara zara sa naaraaz hai dil?

Dil ko samjhana, keh do kyaa, aasaan hai?
Dil to, fitrat se, sun lo naa, be-imaan hai,
Ye khush nahi hai jo milaa, bas maangta hi hai chalaa,
Jaantaa hai, har lagi kaa, dard hee hai bas ik silaa;

Jab kabhi ye dil laga, dard hi humein milaa,
Dil ki har lagi ka sun lo dard hi hai ik silaa;

Kyun naye naye se dard ki firaak me talaash me udaas hai dil?
Kyun apne aap se khafa khafa zara zara sa naaraaz hai dil?

Kyun khoya khoya chaand ki firaak me talaash me udaas hai dil?
Kyun apne aap se khafa khafa zara zara sa naaraaz hai dil?

On being asked if 'I was Manipulative'

2007-12-02T01:07:00.001+05:30

I stand here at crossroads yet again,
facing roads that I know not head where...
Each step ahead is filled with uncertainty,
the will to live still there...

And then I see some faces that seem to smile,
from a distance of where I stand...
I have my smile washed away in tears,
when I touch those faces...
faces that fail me understand.

Delhi-Part 1

2007-11-09T16:52:00.001+05:30

The rainy month of Bombay,
24 July 2007,
Embracing life.
Life....
A beautiful bitch...

The anonymity of a profile,
Voice of a stranger,
'Life' as an open book,
The stranger...
Now a reader...

Champagne Chocolate,
Shots of Espresso,
Quereshi's Kabaabs,
A cold chilly night,
Eve of Diwali,
The beauty of the touch..
Warm, sensuous...

Blue-Pink lights in GK-II,
Remark on an Aries,
Trudging a long way,
The quick kiss.

The hearty laughter,
Two clasped hands....
Looking into the yes of a stranger...
The object of affection.

Under the starless night sky,
Disappearance of distance,
The journey of love,
So near...
Yet so far...

The display of human love,
Few drops of tears,
The warmth of human bodies,
Few marks of love...

Simplifications, complications,
Uncertainties and loneliness,
For the first time,
Love and disappointment have STARTED a journey TOGETHER.

Of Gods other Children

2007-10-07T23:20:00.000+05:30

Life stopped momentarily. Everywhere. There it was, up above, the sick looking yellow crimson evening sky. Below, the wind gushed outside...

And then it ran down gently, in a slow, dying motion. That's when she froze....

Momentarily.

She became numb to this tactile act. Starring out to the sickening sky briefly, then shutting her eyes momentarily.

Then she turned around, looked down and smiled.

By this time it was placed comfortably on her side bag. In spite of this she dint complain like she normally would have if someone else, some other lady would have placed it there. On her side-bag....their hand. After this brief incident and after seeing him; now the hand on her bag seemed to endorse the character of eternal weightlessness.

His mother tried to hold both his hands together instructing him not to do mischief. He laughed. A genuine mischievous laughter. He tried scaring his mother by shaking his hands vigorously as if to unlock them from the maternal guard and laughed again.

"Sorry", the mother told her, looking up to meet her eyes.

"Its ok, don't apologize please, I am not complaining," she replied back, almost in an understanding compassionate voice, something that is rare in this city that calls itself Bombay.

She looked down at him again. The face seemed familiar. Like other occasional faces. They all look like siblings she thought. They never resemble their family or own siblings; but all of them look like they are the descendants from one race. He seemed looking non-discreetly at her structure as if he was trying hard to comprehend what was in front of him.

The simplicity of his face hiding the complexity of his mind.

She raced back time..that was with her 5 minutes back, trying to live it again. 'Defining moments can at times be so unspecific at times...' , she thought... why else was she still trying to gauge and define what had happened. The touch, the warm sliding of his hands on her curves, going from her slender waist to her taut back that almost made her freeze. She wondered what defined that touch. She knew their wasn't anything sexual in it. A sense of gladness filled her. Glad to be touched by him. Was he curious? To have run his hand on her briefly....? Curious at the sight of a fully grown woman in front of him? Was it that she had caught his attention??? Or was it just a plain thoughtless act? Did he know that a touch like this by a man, an ordinary normal man could have much more to it??? It could have the sexual force that could make her yield to a man or detest a pervert, a predator? The crowd inside the compartment made it difficult for her to stare into his eyes.

Eyes...the peeping holes to the human soul... they are not even mirrors..mirrors can still fool you with their concavity and convexity's. A person eyes doesn't entangle itself in such bewilderment.... She knew this for a fact.

Then an almost maternal instinct surged her, which surprised her cuse motherhood was far from her experiences of life. All these years she had been a daughter, a sister...never a wife or a mother and compassion overwhelmed her for him.

Do they understand whats happening around? Do they have carnal urges? Do they understand that the world walks by so fast every second without turning behind or even stopping for people like him to catch up and walk on.

The 'Time and Tide' waits for no man is what everyone else follows...while leading a life that seems on a roller coaster track....

whereas himself and people like him take their own time to get accustomed to even minor changes....

What kind of world do they live in??? Oh these children of the other gods???

The train halted.

The crowd alighted.

Then she saw him in his uniform.

It had on its shirt pocket embroidered in brown..

"Dilkhush".

PS: Dilkhush is a school in Juhu, Vile-Parle, Bombay, India for special kids-mentally challanged.

Life, Money and some Lows

2007-09-16T07:54:00.000+05:30

You've travelled it too. Dont deny the fact. There isnt a person on this earth who has not walked the path. Its afterall lifes process. I see no reason why you should be ashamed of it. Of this journey. Infact it should fill you and I with pride. Immense pride. Of travelling on this journey of Life.

You know, yesterday I sat by the window sill and I saw the world walk by. Something in me convinced me I was walking faster than most of the people outside, that I was walking with the pace of a walkathon runner. No, I cant afford to slow down. At all. I know it is indeed so hollow. My life on the professional front. Where your brains score below your brawns. Where the brand of your clothes and footwear and the frequency with which you repeat them is observed with an eagles eye, before taking your number crunching and speculative ability. It is surprising how Austin Reeds and Blackberry take an obvious precedence over Japanese candlestick. That in this, most of us dont have a life, outside the work place. For me my social life is talking to people over the phone. Thats how disconnected I am from the real world. But I am not complaining. When I was offered the job, I enquired about the job timing. I was told it would be 9a.m.-6p.m. onwards. I knew what that meant. I was glad atleast they mentioned it. Its a norm in the finance industry and so I was prepared.

Its a Sunday today, while I am writing this post. I giggle, thinking about the conversation I had with the receptionist in my office. The only other 'female' in the office, who asked me if I had any boyfriend. When I replied an undoubtedly NO, she proclaimed how its obvious without a social life. What shocked me though was, being just married she has been advised family planning by the office for the next two years, myself on the other hand was told not to take a honeymoon break in case I got married within the next one year. Thats why you'll see a lot of eligible Investment Bankers or people in Asset Management Companies who are still single but dont have the time to mingle and so end up asking colleagues out. So as far as I am concerned Ive decided no one from this industry would be ever dated by me. What a fiasco would it be! I am not such a pro to stop myself from discussing work at home...rather crib about it at home. So imagine doing that with an I-Banker for a hubby...secrets would be all out and it would only spell doom.

But again, nothing happens as per plans. Where I am today, what I am today was never in my scheme of things when I planned my future. That the way I am leading my life right now is in a tangential motion to what I wished/ expected/ hoped. No I still am not complaining. Thats one thing I learnt over these years... you just cant complain against life. She ends up treating you worse. I believe life is a feminine entity and we all know the way women react when they find out you've complained against them. I dont wish to have a cat-fight with Madame Life.

I am thinking about a statement that a fellow friend made. Of why anyone has to go through heartbreak and pain. I think about it and realise in this journey we all go through pain...in some form or the other...its how fast do we accept the truth..the fact... and decide to move on. I completely agree, only now, that 'Strength is not in holding on, but in letting go...', its not easy. I wont be a hypocrite. I took my mourning period too, for a long time and at times I do feel the remnant threads of what I had woven still tug at me but I realise that to start weaving the same pattern all over again would mean going back time, undoing a lot of things which is just not possible. Some wishes after all can never be horses.

I'll confess, I woke up with a start today...realising time has been running since the last one year and I've traversed more distance than I ever could. At times it overwhelms me. I miss a few things, but I have no option. For the first time in a long time I dint sleep in peace. For the first time in a long time I sat down in a corner and cried, in darkness, in loneliness and in the silence of night. For the first time ion a long time I realised that at times my past can have flings with my present and that to be committed to my present I have to take all this in my stride and keep on walking. I realise I am still travelling and every stop that I have taken is embossed in my travel map. I, in no circumstance can erase it. But at times I will meet amazing fellow passengers, with whom I might laugh, cry and travel longer than expected. That I might meet people with whom the journey would be beautiful if taken together, if we walked forever. That at every stop Ive accumulated some luggage, some emotional baggage, whether I like it or not.

Afterall life is one big journey and whats a journey without some baggage??

2007-09-04T01:48:00.000+05:30

"At bottom, every man knows perfectly well that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time. "

-Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher (1844-1900)

The song thats on in my room...

2007-08-25T08:05:00.000+05:30

Chris Brown Lyrics

CHRIS BROWN, RIHANNA- CINDERELLA (UMBRELLA-Remix).

What I just read....

2007-08-21T02:39:00.000+05:30

बस की दुशवार है हर काम का आसान होना,
आदमी को भी मुयस्सर नहीं इन्सान होना;

गिरियां चाहे है खराबी मेरे काषाने की,
दर-ओ-दीवार से टपके है बयाबां होना;

वा-ऐ-दीवानगी-ऐ-शौक़, के हरदम मुझको,
आप जाना उधर और आप ही हैरान होना;

जलवा अज़-बस की तकाजा-ऐ-निगाह करता है,
जौहर-ए-आइना भी चाहे है मज़्-घान होना;

इशरत-ऐ-क़त्ल-गह-ऐ-'एह्ल-ए-तमन्ना मत पूछ,
ईद-ए-नज़ारा है शमशेर का ऊरीयां होना;

ले गए ख़ाक में हम दाग़-ऐ-तमन्ना-ऐ-निशात,
तू हो और आप ब-साद-रंग-ए-गुलिस्तां होना;

इशरत-ए-पारा-ऐ-दिल, ज़ख्म-ए-तमन्ना-खाना,
लज्ज़त-ए-रीश-ऐ-जिगर घर्क-ए-नमक्दान होना;

की मेरे क़त्ल के बाद उसने जफ़ा से तौबा,
हाय उस जूड-पशेमान का पशेमान होना;

हैफ उस चार गिरह कपडे की किस्मत 'घालिब',
जिस की किस्मत में हो आशिक का गिरेबान होना;

- MIRZA GHALIB

Bombay Nights

2007-08-17T23:02:00.000+05:30

Bombay, it is said is a city of dreams. Bombay, they say has money at every nook and cranny and that one just needs to know the tricks of trade to make it big in this city. Try approaching the city after sunset..be it by a jet plane or a train or even by road and I am sure the approaching view will mesmerise you...a view that is incomaparable by any other city in the country.
But behind these snazzy nights and jazzy stories lie many more secrets...secrets that are unknown to the many people who dwell here.
I being a thorough Bombayite to the core had only heard of the dark secrets of my city and well was quite astounded when I unearthed one.

It happened two and half years ago. The year was 2005. My mother and lil sis were thousands of kilometers away in the United States of America and I was busy with my 2nd year engineering examination preparations. Distant relatives were at my place and yes they were unwanted guests. To top it all my maid servant wasnt there. So here I was approaching my engineering examinations which included the critical attempt for the dreaded Engineering Mechanics Paper, taking care of my cute but cranky maternal Grandfather and tending to three unwanted adult guests and a monsterous kid, who collectively always finished the daily milk supply at home in their early morning tea, before their daily explorations of this city, inconsiderate to the fact that an old man needed milky consumptions too. I honestly was frustrated. I had every reason to. And so I convinced my mother to cut the tickets for the return journey of the guests. Which also meant I had to do the job.
Next morning at 4 a.m. I started towards the Victoria Terminus for the train reservations of the Bombay-Howrah 'Gitanjali' Express. On reaching my local station I saw a reasonable crowd. Yeah its true without the graffitti of myth that Bombay doesnt sleep.
A train towards Churchgate arrived and I hopped into it, standing on the footboard....my favourite place; which Bombay local train traveller doesnt like that place in a compartment? Inspite of warning signs galore 'Standing on the footboard is dangerous for your life, have a safe journey'-Indian Railways.
The train wasnt moving...inspite of the half a minute already passing. So I looked out, everything seemed normal...'must have been no signal', I wondered. Suddenly a giggle and a laughter caught my attention. I heard an almost feminine voice say something that meant 'Stop doing this baby' in Hindi. The voice can be safely recalled as sensous and seductive. I mean look, I am straight and women certainly dont turn me on, but this voice was seductive enough in seducing me to hear it some more. I turned around and saw under the crimson-yellow lights of the railways platform three people. One of them had the most beautiful, smooth and glowing skin I had ever seen. Under the night sky it was like burnt honey colored and reminded me of the smoothness and perfection of Lladro porcelain. Given a chance and had I know it for a fact that the train would stop for 2 minutes more I would have ran upto the person and touched the skin. I was left in wonderment and yes I was jealous. Ive never had such wonderful skin all my life. No amount of Estee Lauder, Clinique or L'oreal have ever helped me attain such perfect and unblemished skin.
Suddenly the person stood up and walked towards the train....and I was shocked!!! The person...the object of my last 180 seconds of admiration was an.... errr..MAN!!!!
In the next 20 seconds of my mental wishes I wanted the trio to get into my compartment...cuse I was in the general compartment. Unfortunately, they got into the one behind mine.
By the time Churchgate came, I had forgotten about the incident. By the time I got the reserved tickets and was coming back home, it was 8 in the morning. I was again standing at the footboard of the local I was coming back in. The train entered Grant Road station..and whooaaa!!!! The Object of my admiration and curiosity along with his buddies was sitting there on the platform. In the daylight I noticed each of them had small backpacks that obviously had some clothes in them. I kept my gaze on for the next twenty seconds..and put the threads together...Beautiful skin, almost feminine voice, a lady like laughter, a hot walk and Grant Road station...conclusion..Probably NOT STRAIGHT.
I found it amusing. I donno why though. I did find it interesting and amusing.

After a week.....

I was standing in the queue of the Siddhivinayak Temple in Prabhadevi, Dadar at 9 o'clock in the night. I was bored to death..standing after an exam and listening to two girls in front of me, who were deciding whether taking the August Kranti to Delhi would be better or the Rajdhani, wasnt of any help either. I kept looking around..at the flower stalls.... at the Raheja Empress and Antariksh, the residential buildings I so admire and suddenly something caught my eye. Walking towards the queue I saw a familiar face.....the same beautiful and glowy like honey face. I stared at him. I did. The previous two times the trains swept me away. This time I had my feet firmly on ground and 'opportunity knocks not evertyime', I told myself. So I bloody wanted to stare and stare I did. So obviously that The Object of My, by now Regular 'observation/curiousity admiration', noticed I was noticing him. He looked at me and I almost felt like I was caught eyefully molesting him. But very spontaneously I smiled. This time as he walked past by....he stared......at my smile...and returned the favour by smiling faintly himself.
My mischevious mind decided the next course of action and so in the course of the next half an hour when we were in the Sanctum Sanctorium of the temple, I shamelessly diverted my attention from God to him. Soon (oh trust me in Siddhivinayak, consider yourself lucky if you can bow before the Lord for more than 10 seconds on a Tuesaday) he walked towards the exit. My mind raced...should I?..shouldnt I?...'Curiousity can only kill a cat..it wont kill me', I told myself and well started following The Object of my 'whatever-you-wanna-call-it'.
The walk from the temple to Dadar station is a good 20 minutes and I was doing one of the weirdest things in my life.
How else do u describe a not so straight guy being chased by an absolutely straight girl at 10 o'clock in the night in a crowded city of dreams called Bombay?
Of all the walks that I have walked...be it the 52 km tht I walked in 6 hours flat from my house to the temple to the 7 hours in waist deep water in the Bombay deluge...nothing can beat the excitement this 20 minute walkathon had....
I, like a child wondered, if this 20 minute follow up would uncover something about him...probably his name? his work? probably a phone call he might attend and I would find outsomething....anything?
I 'd be lying if I said I wasnt scared. The only defence I had...to keep walking like I am not bothered who is in front or behind..and look damn tired...
What I wanted..dint happen..as in I never found out anything about him in those 20 minutes I followed him.
that he liked bootcut styled pants, grey in colour which seemed the same the 3 times I saw him and that he wore body hugging t-shirt under the denim jacket he wore.
Dadar station appeared and I saw him waving at someone. This other man almost resembled a bouncer and the Object of my by now 'undivided attention' called him 'Hi, (oh my gosh) Jaan'.
I squeeked. I mean I kinda expected something like this but not after my chase...and then the two clasped their hands entwining fingers. I felt stupid. I donno why again. Simply cuse I wasnt even hitting on him or had a crush on him..it just felt so plain stupid though.

After another week....

I was coming back from college late at night. Reached Andheri station at aroun 10 o'clock again and yet again I noticed the Object of my 'by now makin me feel stupid' attention was going somewhere in Andheri. I stared at him again....hoping he would recognize me from our chance stares at the temple the last time...he looked at me.....damn..looks like my stares are too obvious..coming back....he stared back...I smiled again in a manner that I am sure my expressive face helped convey..'Nice meeting you again'....He recognised...cuse this time he smiled back broadly and even winked....Its a different thing I find men who wink to be absolute turn offs! I passed by him and smelt him perfume..dint get the notes exactly but it smelt like Chanel No. 5.....He walked towards the bus stop outside the Andheri Station McDonalds and I followed suit.....
I dint even think twice about leaving back for home..cuse this time I wanted to talk....I went after him and stood right behind him at the stop. Pretending to be a novice I asked him whether 221 went to Versova..he smiled at me and said yes.
Then I just mentioned that I had seen him at the temple regularly ( I can be such a liar at times..) and he lookes surprised....

"What do you do?" he asked.
"I am an engineering student. What about you?" I asked back.
"I work in a call centre."
"So you going to work right now?"
"Yes."
"Oh ok, which call centre do"...by now I was interrupetd by a man I recollected was his 'Jaan' in Dadar station...
"Kya hua madam..?" the bulldozer asked me...
"Kuch nahi"..I replied.
"Bus route pooch rahi thi"..The Object of my 'brief conversation' told his 'whoever he was'.
"Baby tu kisi ke sath bhi baat karta hai"..the bulldozer told him running his hands on his cheeks...
By now I really felt ashamed..of walking into some kind of a lovers paradise....
so what if it was under a bus stop. I mean duh..the love betwen the two of them was so evident that I felt like the villianous Akbar trying to separate Salim and Mr. Anarkali in this case....
So I pretended I got some kind of a fone call and walked out of the bus stop...
and noticed the two sitting besides each other hands clasped yet again...I honestly was so jealous of that picture..it seemed so perfect. The two of them in oblivion of their surroundings looking into each others eyes and talking....
I simply turned back towards the station..somehow I was happy. I was feeling stupid, jealous yet happy. Yes I did feel a high.
Afterall I had chased a not-so-straight man, found out he was gay, found his name was Baby, Realised he dint work in a call centre but was lying about his proffesion (I mean yeah right Call Centre in Versova!!!, Baby thinks I am a fool? ) found out about his comapanion, found the companions name was some 'Jaan' and found out that they met every night. In this city called Bombay I managed to unravel one absolute strangers life even if it was just a small portion. In this city their are millions of more stories that are spun every night. Afterall Bombay is the city of dreams and dreams that are lived every night...

2007-08-13T03:31:00.000+05:30

स्पंद

I have walked a great distance and finally reached by your side;
The journey seemed impossible to fight against the tide.

Let me sit across, in front of you, and let me look into your eyes;
I know they have shed tears galore in the dark awaiting a beautiful sunrise.

I know you want to be keep it hidden from the world, your sorrow & anguish in heavy rain;
That at times you wonder what worth does it make, all the laughter against the pain.

We're all going through this journey of life forever, with so many people walkin beside;
Some stay long and some forever while some trudge away for an easier ride.

I know it hurts you every moment to fight your emotions away;
But such is life for everyone, against her we have no choice or say.

So let me be there right next to you, you can hold me by my hand;
Its good to know there is someone for you who takes a supporting stand.

Let me wittness every passing moment of your life, let me smile and cry with you;
Let me feel your lips on mine some days, let me have dreams more than just few.

I will be there every time you look at me, on days you would tell tales or rather confide;
Let me tell you the day will be beautiful, the day I hear your heartbeat lying by your side.

Ayodhya

2007-08-03T04:07:00.000+05:30

Its taken me the longest to come up with this post. In normal circumstances, if I've got the title for a post I publish it within two days. Ayodhya has taken me over months.

Ayodhya as a topic is part of my existance, a part of the country from where I am. Ayodhya has shaped me up in a certain way.

It's taken me so long to come up with Ayodhya because I wanted to write a lot, but dint know what to write. I've gone through pages and pages of documents and papers and case studies trying to put up accurate facts and statistics. But would all that have my signature bearing on it or would it be modern day plagiarism?

I've decided to chuck reports and articles and write the very reason why Ayodhya haunts me.

As my old readers would know I went to the uber posh Jamnabai Narsee School in Juhu and Gulomohur Cross road No. 6 my abode, the name being so because the roads are lined with Gulmohur trees. Life in those days meant going to the school bus stop by 8:15 a.m. and coming home by 4:30 p.m. It also meant I would wake up at 7 a.m. every morning cursing my school for not letting me sleep well.

Myself as a kid always complained to my mom regarding her absense from my school, as in , when other parents would drop by every now and then, my parenst never did that. There would be Bombay bandhs and hoardes of parents would come to collect their kids...where as mine were always missing, no matter what the circumstances were I always came back by 6075..my school bus number. Well I almost always came back byt that bus.

Circa December 6, 1992 and after the Long break (45 minutes of recess) parents started dropping by, picking up kids. I was my jolly self. Somehow the feeling of not being picked up by parents gave me a high. You know the kind of high when you are kid and it makes u feel stronger and more mature. I consoled myself with this high when I knew my mom and dad wouldnt be coming. The 'period' (lecture) was abandoned and the teacher started calling out the name of the kids whose parents had come. I was least bothered. With gay abandonment I was singing around feeling my high and getting higher knowing fully well that I would be borading 6075 at 3:50 p.m.

"Archana", the teacher called out and I thought it was something else. "Your mother has come", I looked out at the classroom door to verify whether it was indeed my mom or a kidnapper (oh Jamnabai kids are rumored to be kidnapped often). I saw my mom with a straight face in one of those Chinese silk sarees she gets from the U.S. I was shocked and at the same time happy. Shocked to see my mom come to pick me up from her work and happy to belong to the majority group..the group whose parents came to pick them up when anything or everything went wrong in Bombay.

In an enthusiastic manner I packed up my backpack telling some of my classmates with excitement that my mom had come, walked towards my mom held her hand and started walking. I asked my mother what had happened to which she gave a very stern "Nothing has happened", reply.

We caught an auto rickshaw and came home. I still dint know what was happening. Mom changed into a salwaar kameez and then we went downstairs to the Bhatias. Thats when I heard my mother and Bhatia aunty discussing the repurcussions of Hindus demolishing the Babri masjid in Ayodhya. I asked mom where was Ayodhya, thinking if it was somehere closeby to where I stayed in Juhu. I still dint know what was happening. As a few days passed by I wasn't going to school, not for the next 2 weeks. Thats when we kids in the building realised that there were communal riots in Bombay. The building I resided in had all Hindu families and we later learnt that Muslims were all out to kill Hindus.

'6 th December 1992, Kar Sevaks from the VHP and other communnal parties and organisations barged into the Babri Masjid , in Faizabad district of Uttar Pradesh, to claim back land that is supposedly the Ram Jamn Bhoomi, a matter corborrated by the Archeological Survey of India. The then U.P Chief Minister Mr. Kalyan Singh stepped down and the then Indian Prime Minister P.V.Narsimahrao established the Liberhan Commission on December 16 1992, under the Union Home Ministry, to put forth its findings that led to the cause and results of the Babri Masjid demolition in Ayodhya.

The commision was supoposed to give its reports within 3 months.'

Every night a family from each floor would keep a vigil on the entire building with the help of the watchman.

'Jaleel', I remember his name, a Muslim from Tamil Nadu, guarding a building full of Hindus in Juhu.

The ground and overhead water tanks were sealed with eight locks each because there were rumours that poison was being poured in other societies to kill Hindus, and I remember all the uncles and aunties talking about Mussalmaans raging around with black flags, flamed torches and swords killing everything even remotely associated with Hindus.

I as a kid started fearing. My fear psychosis against Muslims began.

So much so that when Bombay started limping back to normalcy and school resumed, I feared every beareded man was out to kill me. I never sat near the window seat in the school bus, fearing to become an easy target of a bearded man. The mere sight of anyone with a skull cap made me hide behind the seats. I've done that on many occasions. After the demolition in Ayodhya, I believed that Muslims were murderers. I remember praying to god every night that I shouldnt ever die of Cancer, AIDS, or killed by a Muslim. Yes Cancer and AIDS were the other new found fears of the masses.

I remember having no New Years celebration to welcome 1993 but and everyday I would feel the air around me hot and tensed. The city was wounded. My city that boasted to be secular, peaceful and liberal was badly wounded.

We had school projects in Primary school and that semester the subject was 'Bombay'. It was 12th of March 1993 a few weeks after the riots had subsided and our school had taken us out for a field trip, to show us the entire of Bombay. We were at the Price of Wales Museum in Kalaghoda when we heard a loud thud. Some of we kids thought some tyre got punctured; then we heard sirens; all over.

We were all huddled into the bus and it was all hurried....next thing I remember we passed by a building and I saw shards of glass everywhere. Yes I saw blood splattered here and there too. I think we were at Dalal Street that houses the Bombay Stock Exchange.

A series of bombs had rocked the city. Killing hundreds of people.

We heared name like Dawood Ibrahim and Tiger Memon. We even heared Sanjay Dutt.

The riots had wounded the city.

The bomb blasts made her bleed.

Then again a commision was constituted under Justice B.N. Srikrishna...popularly known as the Srikrishna Comission report.

'In 1992-93, the city of Mumbai was rocked by communal riots between the Hindu and Muslim communities and bomb blasts perpetrated by Muslim terrorists in collusion with D-Company mafia don Dawood Ibrahim. While communal riots are not unusual in modern Indian history, these riots were particularly startling in light of Mumbai's largely peaceful past. Above all the Bombay Riots appeared to compromise the much-vaunted image of the city as cosmopolitan, secular and tolerant. Further, the riots appeared to solidify the image of Shiv Sena chief Balasaheb Thackrey who scathingly criticised the judiciary.
Justice Srikrishna, then a relatively junior Judge of the Bombay High Court, accepted the task of investigating the causes of the riots, something that many of his colleagues had turned down. For five years till 1998, he examined victims, witnesses and alleged perpetrators. Detractors came initially from left-secular quarters who were wary of a judge who was a devout and practicing Hindu. The Commission was disbanded by the Shiv Sena led government in January 1996 and on public opposition was later reconstituted on 28 May 1996; though when it was reconstituted, its terms of reference were extended to include the Mumbai bomb blasts that followed in March 1993.
The report of the commission stated that the tolerant and secular foundations of the city were holding even if a little shakily. Justice Srikrishna indicted those he alleged as responsible for the bloodshed, the Shiv Sena.
The report was criticized as “politically motivated”. For a while its contents were a closely guarded secret and no copies were available. The Shiv Sena-government rejected its recommendations. Since under the Commissions of Inquiry Act, an Inquiry is not a court of law (even if it conducts proceedings like a court of law) and the report of an inquiry is not binding on Governments, Srikrishna's recommendations cannot be directly enforced. Till date, the recommendations of the Commission have neither been accepted nor acted upon by the Maharashtra Government.'-Wikipedia.

I dint know there existed something called the Liberhan Commission or the Srikrishna Commission, till a few years back. I also dint know that the Liberhan Commission now has the tag of the longest running Commission having costed the Indian ex-chequer nearly Rs. 63 lacs. Its been 14 and a half years and still 'FINDINGS' are going on.

That the Srikrishna Commission report is played with and disregarded by political parties as and when they deem it fit to set their vote banks ringing. That it is the same UPA (Congress) that backed the retaliatory story put forth by the Sena-Sangh Alliance in 1992-93 just so that 'outside hands could be' easily blamed.

Is it an irony that no 'COMMISSION' has been establisehd in the Bombay train blasts case where in the ATS (Anti-Terrorist Squad) has still been unsuccessful in finding or framing the culprits?

On the 31 of July 2007, The Bombay serial blasts case finally came to a close with actor Sunjay Dutt being sentenced to rigorous Imprisonment. Maybe the film fraternity would vouch for his character. I would not. In fact i still wonder why he was realeased from the TADA Act. Lets all agree to the fact that Sanjay Dutts popularity soared after Munnabhai and its sequel..but prior to that we all knew his connections with notoreity. As a judiciary the law binds on everyone equally. If Sanjay Dutt has awaitedand suffered anough since the last 14 years with a sword of uncertainty over him so have others. The man got lucky because he was associated with Bollywood and had the opportunity to gain sympathy. But that doesnt mean he goes scott free.

It would be interesting to know if his plea is heard in the Apex court and then the Supreme Court.

Coming back Ayodhya, I wonder whether the Liberman report will ever see the light of the day or get stuck under some beuraucratic red tape.

But now I realised a few things. That it werent beared men or men with skull caps that were after my life; who triggered my fear psychosis. It was afterall a well planned chapter in history that the generation after us will read and know, someday when we become parts of that history.

I accpet that I too have been a victim of the communal riots that rocked Bombay. I have been a psychological victim.

That at the end of the day, the community that I feared so much in our country is afterall so volatile simply because they do not have a sense of security in them, why else would they resort to acts that only display their want to survive.

That at the end of the day Bombay has insulated itself against attacks on religious places and blasts.

That afterall, at the end of the day 'The Spirit of Bombay' is aptly displayed and conveyed by 'Salaam Bombay'.

That at the end of the day most Bombayites including myself dont really care about Ayodhya and the outcome of the suite in the Lucknow bench of the Allahbad High Court.

That afterall its best Ayodhya remains what it truly means 'Not to be warred against'.

Thats its best we let Ayodhya remain just thatAyodhya a place in Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh.

Smile

2007-07-28T18:19:00.000+05:30

I havent written since long. This happens when I am either too dejected or too busy. Well this time its neither. Maybe I am happy. Really very happy.
While typing this post..its raining in Bombay and I am listening to one of my all time favourite songs...Ronan Keating's 'I hope u dance' with a glass of nice Thai cold coffee and while typing..I occasionally look out of my window.
I stare out of my window and see the world walk by. At one point of time, some months back, I thought it was just my life that had stopped somewhere. But now, as I am happy, I feel I am walking with the world..with a smile..without any pretence..the smile that is genuine..a smile similar to the one that a first time in love, blushing teen-ager has on her face in a crowded place, the smile that a man has on his face thinking about the time when he first made love, the smile that a first time glowing mother has when she holds her newly delivered baby in her arms....
Those smiles arent fake, they simply cant be faked.....and my smile has a similar genuinity in it. I really am smiling, so much so that I dont want to stop smiling and I just realized that it isnt too difficult to keep smiling, in my case it was all about throwing out my past clutter. Till some time back I had just boxed up my past....but now I've let gone of it in every manner and since then I've been smiling.
The good thing about being happy is everything and everyone around you seems happy. It looks contagious exponentially. Forgive my analytical parlance, its just that I am happy.
If Utopia ever existed, I could say I am close to that zone. I just think about my past and dont have an iota of regret, on the contrary I thank it for getting me where I am and the people Ive come across. In fact I turn back time, towards time gone by and smile.
I look at those four horrific years in engineering from here, my number crunching job and smile again. Dint I tell you I am happy?
In fact I am so happy that I dont even hate Delhi so much....I think about Delhi and smile too...is there a medical term to describe someone who smiles for unnecessary reasons?
I smile because of life that looks beautiful now, I smile cuse of a good boss in the office, cuse of my wonderful friends both old and new.
I walked in knee deep water yesterday when my beloved city got drenched and suddenly recollected the statement from a conversation, "Beg your pardon, please come to my garden", and smiled again. Genuinely.
Its raining today too..right now at this very instant. For the first time since a very long time, the rains look beautiful. I need three shots of vodka neat. I don't care if I get very high cuse ill just go to the streets and smile. My smile directly in proportion to the neatness of my vodka.....

I want to get drenched, I got drenched yesterday too, I want that to happen yet again...but this time get drenched in the middle of a road, while there is Kelly Clarkson's 'Breakaway'...playing loudly from somewhere. Myself in immaculate white linen fully drenched every inch....spreading my arms wide open, looking up towards the evening sky, feeling every raindrop poke my skin and I truly want to smile.
Life isn't just a bitch......
Life is a beautiful bitch now and she is smiling.

Uff Dilli

2007-07-12T01:31:00.000+05:30

(Dastarkhwan-e-karim in Hzt. Nizzamuddin)

My annual trip to Vaishno devi had got delayed and myself being religious I took to the trip once my exams were over. Ofcourse I am a travel freak and nothing gives me a high as much as backpacking, not even the momentary 100% sexy rating on Orkut (I have a strange feeling, that will reduce once this post is published).

My paternal grandparents and a part of my extended family now stay in Delhi and thankfully (read on why) all of them are in South Delhi..Golf Links, Lodhi Road, Vasant Kunj, South-Ex and a few in GK-1. Since a major hurdle of engineering was crossed by me the trip was extended...obviously grandparents always want grandchildren for a long time around. So here I was all grown up in the Capital of the country....why do I say it so dramatically...?...cuse this time I was going to examine this city real closely...and no I was in no hurry as stay was for a full two weeks (unlike before).. ..where I mixed my banking work with pleasure.

First few days and I was travelling from Golf Links to Connaught Place for work purposes...and whoever says that CP is good has gone mad. Literally MAD.

Whats the bloody hype about???? That its the only place in Delhi where you can see tall buildings like the Statesman, Gopaldas and Ansal....

Commercial premises in CP is the most expensive in the capital..my opinion on the 'Value for money factor'...Zilch. Lets compare.

Commercial premises in Bombay are the most expensive in South Bombay...like..Mittal Tower, Bakhtawar, Maker Chambers...but you have the sea around and a fantastic metropolis view...but in case of Delhi CP thats missing...apart from the Palika garden.

CP is a British collonial structure of buildings all two storeyed high in circumcircles..and trust me the flagship stores, restaurants like Nirulas Pot Pourri and Veda are hobnobbing with third class 'Dukaans'. Some how I dont understand the Delhi Govts. fetish with paining all things White and Red and all the ancient structures in CP are painted white ruining their historical look.

One day I ventured into the all famous underground airconditioned (or aircooled!!) Palika Bazaaar..what did I shop?...Nothing..why? ull find out.

However south of Delhi is impressive.

Wide roads, decorated roads, cleaner roads. That itched my brain. So here I am; going to file a Right to Information petition regarding the tax contribution of Delhiites and the infrustructre in South Delhi and compare it to Bombay. I soo much agree with Pritish Nandi on the fact that Bombay earns the revenue and the bloody ministers up there use it for their doorsteps. My idea...whichever state generates whatever revenue...gets to keep it.

What happens?

Delhi goes to the docks.

Then I went to Central Delhi..at Chandni Chowk..Ghantewala Halwai...and then saw the remainder market..What did I shop? Nothing again.

Although an excuisite antique shop with turquoise earrnings on the display did catch my fancy. But I dint have 20 grands with me at that time.

It was sunny , very hot and hunger hit me.

The entire stretch of Chandni Chowk just yielded one decent place for my taste..Mc Donalds...I setteled for Brijwasi and tried the traditional Papdi chaat and Chole Bhature..and wasted both, stuff in Bombays malls taste much better. I called up Grandpa and he told me maybe I'd like the cotton stuff in Karol Bagh. Not a bad idea cuse I had family friends there. So next I went off to Karol Bagh..Tank Road...and what did I shop? Curtain material for my new abode.

Met friends in their 'Kothis'.

Reason I dint shop anything from Chandni Chowk, Palika Bazaar, Karol Bagh and even Janpath?

Nothing appealed to me. Excuse me for the following sentences but the class factor came into picture. These bazaars dint have anyhing that was my class or suited my taste. In Bombay terms stuff here were unclassy and looked cheap..the lower middle class variety. Same held true for stuff in Janpath.

Only Dilli haat was good in terms of quaint little accesories (strictly for the house) but everything I saw there is even available in Bandra Reclamation exhibiton grounds in Bombay.

Fed up and the shopping animal I am I told my Chachu to drive me to Khan Market.

Whoa...somewhere I had read that Khan Market is the best place to shop in Delhi!!!!

What utter nonsense!!!

Take any 100 meters of Lokhandwala Market and Khan Market will still resemble a poor cousin. Also I N A market is the half sister of Dadar west station market.

If all this is considered posh in Delhi I only wonder.

At the end I completed most of the shopping from South-Ex..primarily from the globus, Shoppers Stop and Levis Square stores.

Well Delhi still lags behind in the Mall Culture.

North Delhi is unmentionable. West Delhi is still better off with some malls.

East Delhi is such a nightmare.

A friend of mine took me to the Akshardham temple and we also saw Pandav Nagar parts of Mayur Vihar which are essentially lower middle class housing areas. These areas have obviously come up in recent years in the expansion mode and notice the way u come across barren land while approaching East delhi from the National Highway. That makes theses regions of East delhi the chosen one for lower middleclass people wanting cheap housing.

Next after a long drive we reached North East Delhi...Shahadra the place where the Metro ends andI squeaked. Basically old Delhi with a lot of buildings that are stuck to each other.

Same holds true for most of Delhi..apart from Hauz Khas.

Every bloody building...damn I cant even label them that cuse they arent that tall..not even bungalows..cuse they arent that good..lets call them structures...are stuck to each other.

Honestly and shamelessly HOW UNCLASSY!!!!!

I mean I am a little scared I might be posted in Delhi..but that would be in Gurgaon..where buildings are not sticking to each other..but again Gurgaon is technically Haryana.

If I have to find accomodation..I wouldnt be even caught dead in East Delhi, North or West.

South delhi..Fine..If youre a Delhiite...u might say its EXPENSIVE..

My reply..Not for me.

Simply because I come from Bombay..where we all know the property rates..and any area of Delhi will look reasonable to a Bombayite...even if its South Delhi.

The only good factor which made my trip was the Biryani at Dastarkhwan-e-Karim in Hzt. Nizamuddin. Actully a Yakhni pulao..along with the Shammi kabaab it was the stuff I was living on almost every alternate day..troubling grandparents to order a home delivery.

My verdict on Delhi and Delhites..and I do not care about the brickbrats I might recieve from the residents of the capital...the truth is afterall the truth...

Delhiites..are on an average..poorer than Bombayites. The sense of dressing, spending power, earning package are inferior to Bombaywallas. You will not find many women..forget attractive women walking down city streets..that privildge ull have in Bombay. No, Delhi ladies arent more stylish than Bombay babes...I am sure and suspect some political hand behind the rumor (just kidding). Yeah Delhi ladies only wear better footwear.

Modes of transportation in Delhi is pathetic..autos not metered most of the time..the DTC buses in pathetic condition with stupid graffitti like 'Stage Carriage' written on them for god knows what reason. Also travelling on these busses is solely on the travellers own risk..get yourself insured for sure..even if u attempt a joyride.

Having ur own car or chartered cab is a better and safer bet.

CP is just an overhyped place. Night Life in Delhi not as good as Bombay and one more horror..shops shut down by 9 p.m.

I seriously think the place is suited fine for the politicos and only the President has the best residence...as for govt servants..most of them dont earn much and dont even strive for a high fi lifestyle so maybe they are ok with east and west delhi. If u wanna have a good feeling of delhi..stick around the south.

Else chuck the place.

Bombays better.

Review: 'We Werent Lovers Like That', by Navtej Sarna

2007-07-04T19:11:00.000+05:30

I started off the book for the second time...the first time I cudnt go beyond the first few pages..that was when I was under depression some months back. This time around I started it off while on my way to Delhi...what a coincidensce..the book revolves around Delhi, Dehradun and Bombay.
What first strikes you is Navtej Sarnas frustration which he shows via his protagonist Aftab Chandra...and it seems that Chandra is frustrated of everything remotely associated with Delhi (not that I complain..I too reside in the same page...why ull get a reason probably in my next post)...so much so that I personally ventured out to each and every place mentioned in the book...including CP and Tughlukabad...as and when I found time...and I realised that the character is frustrated not with his surroundings but himself..and has then put the blame on poor lill Delhi.
Then u have a messed up confusing flasback..where u dont know whether it was Rohini he met in the train and in the fest or someone altogether different...
The few fights of domesticity havent been given much light..but just his good old days of childhood and yore.
The book doesnt evoke any strong recommendations from my side..and I would say read it if you have the book already or are gifted...and read it to pass some killing time..
dont go ahead and buy it.

My verdict: Its a Thumbs Down for this one.