Rock On!! Yeah baby...

Saw the movie... as most in the country. Loved it! The story talks about a group of 4 guys who are musically gifted (Farhaan Akhtar rightly so!!) and how they get together again after breaking up and make it!!!
Personally I believe Farhaan Akhtar should be shot. He is a looker (those abs and perfect V of a body had my T shirt wet, drooling), brilliant director (Dil Chahta Hai), can sing like a rock star and act, and this too in his debut movie as an actor.... has some Javed Akhtar for a dad! All I need to know is that he did well academically too, to kill myself.
The music was good and convincing coz the guy on the screen really sang em songs... unlike B'wood. Humour at right places... cute actually.
Everyone went back to the days of the dreams... the times when one had thought of conquering the world... of following one's dreams, of giving to the world the one thing they thought they were born for. It was memories unravelling... shot after shot. And the final coming through... against all odds, compromises, responsibilities. Freedom and victory!
Me T-shirt reads "Free Spirit"... all for the gungho mood!

For all the love lost...

I dont remember when I started disliking my mother. The feeling has only grown stronger with time. I treat her like a woman than my mother. I compete with her. I feel very very proud when my decisions in life are better than hers. I feel proud knowing my sister is closer to me. That she looks up to me more than her today. I am the wiser, more dependable and more fun person to be around. I like the fact that I am mostly more informed and can kill her points with pointed questions. I've been working towards reaching here you see. How readily I jump to sister's or Dad's defense. Almost like we have a common enemy. What's frustrating is that she does not see it. She does not understand that I need to win. She depends upon me. She asks for advice. She waits for my calls. She wants me to reciprocate her concern. And I feel good that I withhold it. I feel powerful for being able to deny. I know that it hurts her.

I am taking revenge. For killing my self-esteem. For the lack of appreciation shown. For beating me black and blue with a rubber pipe. For not showing any tenderness afterwards. For not making me understand I was capable of standing up on my own. For always telling me how I would be so lost without her. And how she is always right. And making me believe I could never take decisions on my own in life. For always being the better out of every one around.

But today, I am toying with the idea of not competing any more. I am thinking about accepting her as the person she is. About ending this viscious cycle of doing unto you as you did unto me. I feel this may be the only way of standing as my own person. Independent of what she or any one else did. Because this decision is not motivated by anger, hatred or revenge. Its not motivated by who she is. Its coming from who I am. And that is my liberation.

Random...

"Do you ever dream, Forrest, about who you're gonna be?"
"Who I'm gonna be?"
"Yeah..."
"Aren't... aren't I going to be me?!"

Sex and the city

Its the end of a Manic Monday. Its been blood and murder all day long and its over now. I am at my favourite Cafe Coffee Day, lusting for a cup of coffee... as the guy on the counter takes my order... to go please. Bombay is wet and sweaty... like the village belles after a long day of work on the fields.

As I wait, I turn around and this woman on the far corner in the cafe catches my eye. She is sitting there dressed... breaths alternating between coming in low and in small gasps. It makes her breasts rise higher than usual... alluring gesture... I think to myself. She has a nice form, the colour of her fashionable top suits her skin. She picks up the phone to speak to someone, her back arches... one leg crosses over the other, and a smile spreads over her face. I get to see her eyes and I know... she is waiting for someone.

A naked shoulder moves sensously... and she takes her time turning her face towards the door. The back arches more... a subtle offering of herself to the man walking towards her. He says something and she laughs... and I can see the curve of the neck as she throws her head back and laughs... he is pleased. He puts his hands on the table... immediately defining the territory. Brief scan around the table to see who's there. I see his legs spereading out slightly and her thighs pressing tighter together... like the bodies are speaking in their own primitive language while the toungues go on about daily trivia.

My coffee has come. I stand up, the laptop bag alights on the shoulders. I pay and walk out... and turn back at the door to look at them. The woman looks at me and I smile. She smiles back. The core of one woman speaks to another in that brief moment to appreciate. I walk out and head home, content.

10 Commandments of being a mistress

Dear Reader...

Now we shall change the morose monotones of this solitary blog of mine and get into matters of consequence. I, today shall spake my mind on the matter of mistresses. So here goes:

In order to be a successful mistress, here's what you need to know:

1. You are in it because you want to be here. No one's doing any a favour.
2. Do not expect support. Time, money or children. The day you want the latter, its time to move on.
3. Accept the reality that you will be the third priority for ever. Family, job (or vice versa) and then you.
4. You will have more power than you can imagin. Use it justly and with conscience.
5. Sex is important. Very important. It is probably what got the two of you together in the first place! A mistress worth her salt will know the importance of mastering the fine art of eroticism. Its not just what you do in bed... but the animal magnetism of your being that beckons. Seduction never stops, not even when you brush your teeth together.
6. To be well read and converse on variety of topics is a virtue. You see, men do not only think about sex all the time.
7. Take interest in what interests him. To value what the other values, is truly the only way to show one cares.
8. Take care of your own problems. You are the stress buster and not vice versa.
9. Have a high self-esteem. Being a mistress is not for the faint hearted. Its the only defense mechanism in a deal which was raw from the word go.
10. Last but not the least, keep your life to yourself. Do not enroll if you have Attention Deficit Disorder, Verbal Diarrhea or if you tend to talk after downing a vodka or two.

Nothing can teach you the meaning of unconditional love like this one can. Nothing can teach you to be grateful (and how!) for time you get with your loved one. Nothing teaches you independence and self-reliance... because there is no safety net you see. It essentially makes you a better human being.

So this one goes out to all the women out there... who've chosen to walk the road less travelled. It goes to those who absorb familial stress which is not theirs, contribute to raising kids who are not theirs, and essentially maintain sanity in a house which otherwise would have gone berserk, and which is not theirs.

And what's in it for them? Well... that's a question one needs to answer when they enroll for the course. It could be love, sex, personal growth, companionship, sense of contribution... or all of this.

"I'd like to have you as my mistress. I hope you understand that its a compliment."

The beauty and the beast

This happened on my way back from a client meeting last afternoon. We'd stopped on a signal... and I saw this beggar coming from ahead. He had a stump of an amputated arm protruding from his torn shirt's sleeve. He would angrily flash the stump in front of the cars waiting at the signal and ask for money... His violent gesture was like this clenched fist on the non-existent arm... that no one could see but everyone felt was there. He came towards me... and I could feel the hatred oozing out of his being. I, a woman, sitting in that big assed airconditioned car epitomised everything that probably had gone wrong in his life. And I was angry too... for his vulgar behaviour. The driver clicked the central lock in. My eyes darted towards the lock slipping into place, and the infuriated man moved closer to my window. He banged the stump on my window... teeth gnawing with fury. We stared at each other... anger for anger... man for woman. And then I smiled at him... the slow hard bitchy mocking smile. His eyes mirrored the struggle within, for a fraction of a second... and then the fire in them dimmed. His face fell... like his arm. He walked away from me... head down, shoulders stooped. His better hand did rise to beg a few times... but he wasn't looking. He wasn't aware of what he was doing.

I felt like a bitch then. I'd chosen my ideology over his existence...

We all are fighting for a cause in life... mine against conformity and someone's for it. We all have reasons and internal crusades that keep us alive. I hope next time I go there I will still find him angry at the world and fighting it. And will not stand in judgement of one's war over another.

Adventure ... the other side of me.

The choice to follow any real adventure

is measured by this view:

When you look back on it,

will you be glad you dared,

or glad you dint. - Bach (again)

Mine has started. Its a lonely stretch ahead. And I'll need to do a lot of crazy stuff to justify the ride. The big idea is to answer some simple questions. Like 'Who am I'...'Why am I here'... 'Why was I born'... I've been told that there is no book anywhere that talks about who you are and why. Nothing at all that says how you should be. So if freedom of choice is the next big idea, I need to choose my faith. But the thing is... Hope knows a lovely thing is true before it shows up on your doorstep. And so it shall be the shining star guiding my pilgrimage... and a miloman here and there for music and laughter... and the stoic for rude shocks ... the archer for child within. All teachers... all students.

I read somewhere... "A teacher will arrive, when the student is ready." I am ready. And that one's consciousness is the measure of the honesty of one's selfishness... to listen to it carefully. So I take this journey with selfish hope and a conscience for company. I sincerely hope that I will meet you too, loved one. I sincerely hope you will wait for me. Till the moment our paths cross.

Naked in love

Love fills you.
Like this liquid poured in your shell of a skin.
Its not warm, nor cold. It just is.
Hurt, pain, happiness... its not Love's problem you see.
Its yours.
So when you say that the pain is because of love, you'll want it to go away.
When you say happiness is because of love, you'll want it to stay.
Love comes to live with you. Not with the labels you give it.
And how you stop seeing it after a point. Too many labels on it... I guess.
And then you blame love, for it's left you.
When all the while its love that does not care about what or who you are.
It does not see you like the mirror does.
It hardly talks, but listens.
To your stories, or the silence.
Enough! I guess in lieu of rent to stay with you.
So, what did you do with your love today?

To love someone unconditionally
is not to care
who they are or what they do.
Unconditional love, on the surface,
looks the same as indifference. - Bach

Get lost Nemo!!!

It was never a happy thought for me that in this arranged marriage obsessed country... my parents were actually liberal. Wanted me to go out and find a guy for myself... fall in lou and all that... with a few reservations on what happens after!!

I, on the other hand, found lives of those torn in the strife of love far more interesting. They got the fights, had a mission and lived permanently in the state of righteous indignation... something I have only fleetingly experienced.

Well! So I found this guy in college... got him home, got my parents to like him and them dumped him at the climax of setting a wedding date! Whoa!! All hell broke loose!! I got the fights etc... got thrown out of home. Thankfully it was only the luggage that took the balcony route. And yes, I did die for them too.

Grin! Mission accomplished!

Trayambhakeshwar.... now say it 3 times really fast!!!

In case you are wondering I've just come back from this place. Its close to the city of Nashik in Maharashtra. We went there as a family for a Pooja... I wouldn't elaborate further on this. My Mom had been planning for this for weeks. Her nerves were like guitar strings, wiry and stretched...strung on a high pitched note. Dad was lackadaisical about the whole issue from the very start... as usual. Me and my sister... were oscillating between silly giggles and bitching about mom screaming at us in a pandaal full of people. We were late but truly believed the punishment was very disproportionate.

But we did it... for mom. Her enthusiasm for the whole thing was too innocent to mar with our cynicism.

My journey started from Bombay. The guy at the ticket desk told me I should be at Nasik by 4:30 PM. This was a relief as I had woken up considerably late and knew I had to be there by then to save my ass from Mom's verbal whips. He deftly worked up the mobiles and landlines around him to get me a seat in the 12 Noon bus. Then he proudly turned around and told me... 'Ladies seat diye la hai madam! No 3 hai... ikdumich aagey hi baithne ka' (I've got you the ladies's seat...special! Its in front as well)... I looked at his toothy grin and thought ok! All's well that ends well.

And then the torture started. My so called special seat was an ergonomic horror. It was right besides the very door of the bus, put in a space which was meant for people to walk in and out of the contraption that crawled on 4 wheels and ensured I never reached my destination at 4:30.

Another mentionable but very forgettable aspect was the music. It started with devotional tracks based on bollywood movie songs... (CRINGE!!!)... The tape was stuck and someone finally had the guts to stand up and politely request for the damn thing to be shut up. The driver interpreted it as want for better music. What we were given then was so terrible I was murderous and suicidal at the same time. I am sure all of us remember the 'Bewafa' album from T-Series of the Gulshan Kumar fame... which also featured some songs from the only movie of Kishan Kumar, his handsome to die for younger brother. Sung by obscure singers (heavy shaky male voice, shrill thin female one) with desi orchestra for background score. Arrgghh!!

Then I got the news that after managing the 6 hours on my own, I was to be escorted for the final leg of the journey. The Gentle man doing the honors was a senior officer from mom and pa's organization. And they were under considerable stress at the thought of leaving him alone with me. Unfortunately, they could get their fears across to me in time for me to be able to do anything... the temptation was there believe me.

He saw a girl, and an excellent opportunity to dive into a lecture on goodness of all things, and how its the human touch that makes the world go round! Quite right actually... in the wrong sense of the statement. Personally, I wanted to go straight back and watch hard XXX rated stuff for 24 hours straight to purge my soul. I would have died... but for a few life saving bits like:

Uncle: "I love girls"
Me: Smile....(Sick bastard! need to discreetly unlock the car door. Lifetime motto: Be prepared.)
Uncle: "I love all girls"
Me: (looking outside the window... stop it! damn you.)
Uncle: "All girls are like daughters"
Me: (Ah!! This is what happens when you translate hindi to english in your head... you loser!!!) Biiiig Smile!! (Trying hard to hide the incredulous expression.)
Uncle: "I have a son too. He works for Erection."
Me: Oh?(I dont want to know about a family of gigolos!! Does he know what the fuck he's saying!!)
Uncle: Yes... that which makes phones na!! Erection.. Erection.
Me: (Dear lord!!! He means Ericsson!!) giggles... giggles
Uncle: "Bhat happened?"
Me: Oh nothing!! So you really love your girls? :) (Sick thoughts in my head... innocent smile on face)

I live. And I am back in Mumbai writing this to live in the internet universe forever. Amen!

And the story goes....

You see... they say the beginning is an end and the end a beginning. So this 'starter' is dedicated to me. I hope the flavour is to your liking... dear reader. One may think to blog would be to want to say something to the world. This one is to communicate better with the so many other 'me's in my head.

If I had a wish to be granted today... I would want to be able to remember laughing a lot more... having more friends, breaking ups and making ups and learning to dance (this one's the top of the list).

My lonely existence has given me gift... of day dreaming or imagination, euphemistically speaking. It keeps me company... all the time. Fiction is closer to reality so much so that if there was a man named 'what if...' he'd be my soul mate. And for the sake of the relationship I wouldn't risk getting married to him.

The one question that has been on my mind a lot lately is... "Why am I here?" "What am I to do with the seemingly infinite time I've been given?" "what is my passion?" what is that one thing that reverberates within my being with so much force that it empties everything out. That there are no thoughts, no needs, no feelings of unfulfilled so much. Just that one thing and then there is bliss... sounds so much like an orgasm.

An excerpt of a conversation with me:
Q:"what am I good at?"
A:Nothing. Because there is nothing like good or bad. Everything just is.

Q:"Oh come on!!... there has to be something!! Some shit that gives me what they call 'meaning to life'?...
A: There is nothing like that. You need to create a meaning out of your life. You choose. At any point what your life is going to be.

Q: Swell!! What if I am not creative enough? I want to know what is it that I do well? Something that I can teach someone else... that kinda good.
A: (.......Silence)

Q: Oh I know!!... I am good with blow jobs!! (flippant remark... lets see what she has to say now!!)
A: The existing system around you may not be comfortable with prolific use of these skills.

Q: I feel lost. I dread my weekends. I feel guilty for spending money on books and movies. Help me.
A: System alert: such behaviour may result in excess dependance on people or job. Need for positvity may cause manipulative behaviour. may result in statements made which cause embarassment later. A flighty state of mind will cause you to overlook crucial political events around you, resulting in strengthening your image as a good hearted street un-wise person. may interfere with your impressions of an effective individual and professional. Could result in another increment lower than the going rate of inflation next year.

Angry retort: I want to quit on this system. I want to 'live like animals... careless and free (like animals) I want to live... I want to run through the jungle with wind in my hair and the sand at my feeeeeeeeeet'.

A lot of talk.... no answers.