If you are a regular visitor to my blog, you’ll probably know that I am FINALLY tying the knot. And from my previous posts, it wouldn’t have been difficult to crack who the groom is. Ashish and I met precisely 9 months back and it didn’t take us longer than a month to reserve each other for life.
Our journey so far has been full of drama, romance, action, dance, emotions and LOVE. It is difficult to capture all of that on this blog or on any invitation card. Hence, we decided to prepare our own wedding website. This website is not only an invitation but it also unveils our true emotions for each other, our characters, people who have contributed to make this love story a success, different chapters of our love life, etc.
A lot of effort has gone into making that site a fun read. I truly hope you enjoy surfing it (which I am sure you will) and then get back to me with your valuable (Read Nice) comments.
Here’s the link: http://www.ewedding.com/sites/DeepaliJamwal
Enjoy!!!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
My First Love
I was in class 4 when I fell in love with him. He was dashing, sensitive, and stylish to the core. I would fall weak in my knees every time I saw him. But my enthusiasm was crushed in school when I realized every girl from the age group of 10 to 50 was in love with him too. But I knew deep Deep DEEP inside my heart that he was thinking only of me when he sang “pehla pehla pyaar hai”. Salman Khan has managed to capture my heart and soul ever since then. So much so, I declared to my dad that I would marry only him. I also realized the huge age difference, but not like I wanted to marry him then, I would wait till I grow as old as him :).
They say “with time love ages”. It’s been 16 years since then. Both of us have seen our share of ups and downs in life. The media somehow could never get enough of him in these 16 years. He always made headlines for wrong reasons. Such a shame, for he is one Bollywood actor who indulged in social causes. Population control for example. However, my love for him just seems to ooze out with even higher frequency, every time I watch his new release.
Dabangg, is being compared with 3 Idiots and has already given a competition to the much awaited ‘Robot’ of Rajnikanth. I am so proud of him that I fear my chest will inflate ripping off my shirt just like in the last scene of the movie. Watch out all other Khans of the industry, for this Khan doesn’t even need to unbutton his shirt. Some may wonder what is it about him that makes the public go wild? I suggest watch Dabangg, for this movie is not about the story or music or starcast. It’s about Salman Khan and Salman Khan and even more Salman Khan.
I ask, which other actor can make success of a movie by just his mere presence and his charisma? And all those intellectual geeks who look for a smart script and “Inception” like story, this movie is not meant for you. This is not meant to make sense. It’s only meant to entertain, which it does in overdoses. This is a typical Bollywood movie meant for a typical bollywood fan like me.
After being a certified Bollywood fan for all my life, having attended a few award functions and standing outside Salman’s balcony on Wednesdays to get a glimpse of him in a crowd not less than seen in Dadar station, it is official that Salman has the most fan following that anyone could ever manage.
A short message for Salman: I am eligible to marry you now. (Hurry, this offer valid for another 3 months only)
They say “with time love ages”. It’s been 16 years since then. Both of us have seen our share of ups and downs in life. The media somehow could never get enough of him in these 16 years. He always made headlines for wrong reasons. Such a shame, for he is one Bollywood actor who indulged in social causes. Population control for example. However, my love for him just seems to ooze out with even higher frequency, every time I watch his new release.
Dabangg, is being compared with 3 Idiots and has already given a competition to the much awaited ‘Robot’ of Rajnikanth. I am so proud of him that I fear my chest will inflate ripping off my shirt just like in the last scene of the movie. Watch out all other Khans of the industry, for this Khan doesn’t even need to unbutton his shirt. Some may wonder what is it about him that makes the public go wild? I suggest watch Dabangg, for this movie is not about the story or music or starcast. It’s about Salman Khan and Salman Khan and even more Salman Khan.
I ask, which other actor can make success of a movie by just his mere presence and his charisma? And all those intellectual geeks who look for a smart script and “Inception” like story, this movie is not meant for you. This is not meant to make sense. It’s only meant to entertain, which it does in overdoses. This is a typical Bollywood movie meant for a typical bollywood fan like me.
After being a certified Bollywood fan for all my life, having attended a few award functions and standing outside Salman’s balcony on Wednesdays to get a glimpse of him in a crowd not less than seen in Dadar station, it is official that Salman has the most fan following that anyone could ever manage.
A short message for Salman: I am eligible to marry you now. (Hurry, this offer valid for another 3 months only)
Monday, August 23, 2010
To Ashish, with Love
On completing eight months of courtship, I wrote this to Ashish:
Dear Ashish,
Remember this day? No, the fact that it lies on the same day as Rakshabandhan has nothing to do wid it.
Silly me! How can you ever forget this day? I have been reminding you on 23rd of every month to send me flowers the next day as a celebration for completing (tolerating in your case) another month with each other.
This was the day when we first saw each other and I decided to marry you. Don’t know what took you so long to decide? (Considering I was at my best behavior and was strictly instructed to talk less).
The journey so far has been so beautiful and thrilling. Be it those heavy-on-pocket phone bills or be it those swollen eyes after night long chat session or be it the sullen mood coz of wretched internet connection. (Wondering what the beautiful part is?)
I am so happy that we eventually agreed on to become husband and wife. I know, during our last few conversations we have had doubts over who is husband and who is the wife. But isn’t all that secondary? Isn’t just being together such an exhilarating experience?
I still remember how you were sweating before talking to my dad at first. Despite rehearsing over the conversation a hundred times, you ended up calling my dad “Mr Jamwal”. (If you are not in the army, you won’t know what a disgrace it is for an officer not to be addressed by his rank) My dad, the soft and gentle person that he is, decided to give my hand in yours (the person who refused to acknowledge his contribution to the Indian Army for 36 years) for our better future. (Whose better future?)
We have had a cool eight months together. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching you on skype. Don’t worry even if you don’t get leave to come a week before wedding, but please make it for the wedding. Marrying you on skype would be difficult (who would carry all the gifts from reception hall to home?)
Let us celebrate this day by chatting for an extra hour online and sending out to each other e-cards. (Man! Technology has got played a big role in our relationship).
Love you always,
DJ
Dear Ashish,
Remember this day? No, the fact that it lies on the same day as Rakshabandhan has nothing to do wid it.
Silly me! How can you ever forget this day? I have been reminding you on 23rd of every month to send me flowers the next day as a celebration for completing (tolerating in your case) another month with each other.
This was the day when we first saw each other and I decided to marry you. Don’t know what took you so long to decide? (Considering I was at my best behavior and was strictly instructed to talk less).
The journey so far has been so beautiful and thrilling. Be it those heavy-on-pocket phone bills or be it those swollen eyes after night long chat session or be it the sullen mood coz of wretched internet connection. (Wondering what the beautiful part is?)
I am so happy that we eventually agreed on to become husband and wife. I know, during our last few conversations we have had doubts over who is husband and who is the wife. But isn’t all that secondary? Isn’t just being together such an exhilarating experience?
I still remember how you were sweating before talking to my dad at first. Despite rehearsing over the conversation a hundred times, you ended up calling my dad “Mr Jamwal”. (If you are not in the army, you won’t know what a disgrace it is for an officer not to be addressed by his rank) My dad, the soft and gentle person that he is, decided to give my hand in yours (the person who refused to acknowledge his contribution to the Indian Army for 36 years) for our better future. (Whose better future?)
We have had a cool eight months together. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching you on skype. Don’t worry even if you don’t get leave to come a week before wedding, but please make it for the wedding. Marrying you on skype would be difficult (who would carry all the gifts from reception hall to home?)
Let us celebrate this day by chatting for an extra hour online and sending out to each other e-cards. (Man! Technology has got played a big role in our relationship).
Love you always,
DJ
Friday, August 20, 2010
Celebrating B'days in Style!!!
Yeah! Yeah! I am gonna be a year older in another 14 days 15 hours and 10 mins (not that I am obsessed) :) I have always loved my b’days. Be it for the gifts that I am usually loaded with or be it getting phone calls and birthday wishes that makes me feel important or be it the fact that I am wiser by another year. (Dunno how many of you would agree with that ;))
One of the best b’days I have ever celebrated was when I turned 18 (I am not telling you how long back was that, to avoid weakening of my fan following ;)).
The clock just struck 12 when Abhishek, Dujon, Huzefa, Vincent, Benny and Sanam rang my bell. I won’t say I was surprised coz they planned this while passing notes to each other in French class VIA me. But I sure did act surprised. They got me a huge basket fruit cake. While I cut that, my mom brought me another cake from the kitchen which she had been trying to hide from me all day long. I was overwhelmed with their gesture.
We celebrated for a while before I started getting phone calls and they decided to disperse. As I walked them to the gate, another group of friends (Rohit and gang) came in with a HUGE cake and even gigantic teddy bear. It was so huge that Rohit, being the small and skinny guy he was, couldn’t even wrap his arms around it and couldn’t wait to hand it over to me. There we go, my turn to cut my 3rd b’day cake for the day. Now I understand why the man behind the counter said in disappointment “Oh no, not again!” when Sanam asked him to bake a cake with “Deepali” written on it.
Next morning I woke up with a smile and total satisfaction. Simle, because it was my b’day after 365 days and satisfaction, because my sister wasn’t around, so all the cakes in fridge were only and only meant to be consumed by me. :) I got dressed in my new pair of jeans and t-shirt, prayed to god (mom would never let us leave the house without praying), ate cake for breakfast and left for college, where Abhishek along with Huzefa, Dujon, Vincent, Benny, Sanam, Bunty, Ram, Ashok, Luis, Varun, Kiran, Anthony, John, Kshama, Rishi and a few others whose names I can’t remember (such a shame, because they were amongst my best friends too) were waiting outside on their bikes and cars. They hijacked me and took me to Ocean Park (Water kingdom of Secunderabad). There I cut my 4th B’day cake inside water. I remember, we had to pay extra fine for creating a mess and later were thrown out for not letting other visitors enjoy any rides. I ask, is it wrong to push people down the slides when they are stuck in the middle? (I was just trying to help).
But anyways, we moved out from there to a farm house for lunch, where we hogged like crazy since all of us were tired after all the activity. That’s where I was presented with the 5th cake of the day. This day was just getting better with every passing moment. Beyond 5 O’clock, my dearest mother starts getting concerned. She began to call me every five minutes and I had to push off for home.
When I landed home, my room was all decorated and was full with all the gifts wrapped in nice shimmery papers. It was such a beautiful sight that I never wanted to unwrap the gifts. :) That was the most fun birthday I’ve ever celebrated.
I know I have grown up since then and have no friends around here (in Ahmedabad) to celebrate my b’day with. But I still look forward for the day and for all the phone calls and birthday wishes I receive. If you are a close friend and reading this, here’s a tip: please sms me or call me, but don’t wish me on facebook. I think that’s the most impersonal way to wish.
Signing off :)
Oh BTW, another hour gone by
One of the best b’days I have ever celebrated was when I turned 18 (I am not telling you how long back was that, to avoid weakening of my fan following ;)).
The clock just struck 12 when Abhishek, Dujon, Huzefa, Vincent, Benny and Sanam rang my bell. I won’t say I was surprised coz they planned this while passing notes to each other in French class VIA me. But I sure did act surprised. They got me a huge basket fruit cake. While I cut that, my mom brought me another cake from the kitchen which she had been trying to hide from me all day long. I was overwhelmed with their gesture.
We celebrated for a while before I started getting phone calls and they decided to disperse. As I walked them to the gate, another group of friends (Rohit and gang) came in with a HUGE cake and even gigantic teddy bear. It was so huge that Rohit, being the small and skinny guy he was, couldn’t even wrap his arms around it and couldn’t wait to hand it over to me. There we go, my turn to cut my 3rd b’day cake for the day. Now I understand why the man behind the counter said in disappointment “Oh no, not again!” when Sanam asked him to bake a cake with “Deepali” written on it.
Next morning I woke up with a smile and total satisfaction. Simle, because it was my b’day after 365 days and satisfaction, because my sister wasn’t around, so all the cakes in fridge were only and only meant to be consumed by me. :) I got dressed in my new pair of jeans and t-shirt, prayed to god (mom would never let us leave the house without praying), ate cake for breakfast and left for college, where Abhishek along with Huzefa, Dujon, Vincent, Benny, Sanam, Bunty, Ram, Ashok, Luis, Varun, Kiran, Anthony, John, Kshama, Rishi and a few others whose names I can’t remember (such a shame, because they were amongst my best friends too) were waiting outside on their bikes and cars. They hijacked me and took me to Ocean Park (Water kingdom of Secunderabad). There I cut my 4th B’day cake inside water. I remember, we had to pay extra fine for creating a mess and later were thrown out for not letting other visitors enjoy any rides. I ask, is it wrong to push people down the slides when they are stuck in the middle? (I was just trying to help).
But anyways, we moved out from there to a farm house for lunch, where we hogged like crazy since all of us were tired after all the activity. That’s where I was presented with the 5th cake of the day. This day was just getting better with every passing moment. Beyond 5 O’clock, my dearest mother starts getting concerned. She began to call me every five minutes and I had to push off for home.
When I landed home, my room was all decorated and was full with all the gifts wrapped in nice shimmery papers. It was such a beautiful sight that I never wanted to unwrap the gifts. :) That was the most fun birthday I’ve ever celebrated.
I know I have grown up since then and have no friends around here (in Ahmedabad) to celebrate my b’day with. But I still look forward for the day and for all the phone calls and birthday wishes I receive. If you are a close friend and reading this, here’s a tip: please sms me or call me, but don’t wish me on facebook. I think that’s the most impersonal way to wish.
Signing off :)
Oh BTW, another hour gone by
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I Confess!
I don’t remember when I first saw rain. And since I don’t remember, why don’t we make up a story? So it was year 1987 and I was a 2 year old child fed on a high dose of cerelac. After a heavy meal, I was relaxing my head on our dog (Sandy) when we heard a sudden commotion in the family. Sandy would wait for such opportunities so he could show off his skills, jump off the bed, run as fast as a cheetah to the commotion site and bark at everyone in sight till my dad fed him a dog biscuit.
“Stupid Dog”, I muttered under my breath and looked outside. My mom ran upstairs to pick up the clothes drying outside and my dad ran towards me followed by Sandy. He was coming too fast for me that I just closed my eyes and said my last prayers. Next minute I was sitting on his shoulders and we were running outside. Sandy was enjoying all the action and was smiling ear to ear. :)
Sitting on my father’s shoulders I felt the first drops of rain on my face. It was heavenly. If only my dad wudn’t have tossed me in the air and gotten me all wet and sick, I would have enjoyed the moment better.
I confess that I love rainy days. You are probably saying, finally this psycho loves something else beyond herself.
I love the tea that forms on road (muddy water created on kuccha road). The imaginative me have always tried to find faces and shapes in the tea. Next time you see muddy water on the road, imagine it to be tea. You will sometimes even see the malai floating. After a car passes by, for sometime the muddy water will resemble a chocolate milk shake.
Over the years, my affinity towards rain has been motivated – for different reasons. When I was in class five in St Joseph’s, Pathankot …the school would submerge (not fully but at least a foot deep) after an hour’s rain. This meant leave for two days….now don’t blame me for loving rain.
As I grew my reasons changed. When in tenth, I loved going to school on rainy days….because half the class wouldn’t have turned up and the teachers dare not teach. Since I was a Complan girl, I never fell sick. Some of the teachers would be absent. I still remember a sleeping teacher sitting in front even as we spent the 45 minute periods talking our way to glory.
When in college, it provided us with an excellent excuse to come late or bunk classes. In Secunderabad, traffic depends on seasons. There are two seasons – the seasons to ride (Summer) and the season to drive (Rainy). Purists believe there is one more season – the season to sit at home.
Now, I love rains for the fringe benefits. I don’t have to wash my balcony. Tomorrow I am going to take an off from work because I am going to fall sick… courtesy rain (no one in my office knows that I am a Complan girl)
Sorry…we stop this because it is already sounding like an autobiography.
Signing off :)
“Stupid Dog”, I muttered under my breath and looked outside. My mom ran upstairs to pick up the clothes drying outside and my dad ran towards me followed by Sandy. He was coming too fast for me that I just closed my eyes and said my last prayers. Next minute I was sitting on his shoulders and we were running outside. Sandy was enjoying all the action and was smiling ear to ear. :)
Sitting on my father’s shoulders I felt the first drops of rain on my face. It was heavenly. If only my dad wudn’t have tossed me in the air and gotten me all wet and sick, I would have enjoyed the moment better.
I confess that I love rainy days. You are probably saying, finally this psycho loves something else beyond herself.
I love the tea that forms on road (muddy water created on kuccha road). The imaginative me have always tried to find faces and shapes in the tea. Next time you see muddy water on the road, imagine it to be tea. You will sometimes even see the malai floating. After a car passes by, for sometime the muddy water will resemble a chocolate milk shake.
Over the years, my affinity towards rain has been motivated – for different reasons. When I was in class five in St Joseph’s, Pathankot …the school would submerge (not fully but at least a foot deep) after an hour’s rain. This meant leave for two days….now don’t blame me for loving rain.
As I grew my reasons changed. When in tenth, I loved going to school on rainy days….because half the class wouldn’t have turned up and the teachers dare not teach. Since I was a Complan girl, I never fell sick. Some of the teachers would be absent. I still remember a sleeping teacher sitting in front even as we spent the 45 minute periods talking our way to glory.
When in college, it provided us with an excellent excuse to come late or bunk classes. In Secunderabad, traffic depends on seasons. There are two seasons – the seasons to ride (Summer) and the season to drive (Rainy). Purists believe there is one more season – the season to sit at home.
Now, I love rains for the fringe benefits. I don’t have to wash my balcony. Tomorrow I am going to take an off from work because I am going to fall sick… courtesy rain (no one in my office knows that I am a Complan girl)
Sorry…we stop this because it is already sounding like an autobiography.
Signing off :)
Friday, June 11, 2010
Wat to do?
I have always been a very outspoken and straight forward person. By being critical I thought I was helping people overcome their shortcomings, but now I think it’s in my blood and being critical comes so naturally to me. I wouldn’t have realized this fact if Trishna wouldn’t have left a message on Ashish’s facebook profile, “Deepali is too outright. Both of you will soon be outcast-ed by the society. I am just warning you”.
Being the loving person that he is, replied instantly, “That’s great! Then both of us will live in isolation and will have all the time in the world for ourselves”. I cant be more thankful to god for being kind enough to bless me with a gem like him. I wish I could be equally happy for him. :)
I am critical but not heartless. I wouldn’t want Ashish to be outcasted because of me. So I took a self analysis test and thought of replies which could be more diplomatic than my spoken words.
Situation 1: Trishna shows a cute healthy baby picture to me on facebook:
Trish: Isn’t he the cutest… gopuchhululupuli (that’s the funny noise that she makes when she finds anything cute.)
Me: Aaawwww… really… look at his cheeks falling like a bull dog
Probable answer: Aaaaaaaaawwwwww… really… look at his cheeks so healthy. No where in comparison to a bull dog :)
Situation 2: Purvi checking herself out in the mirror asks me:
Purvi: Do you this I look fat in this dress
Me: Purvi, It’s not really about the dress.
Probable answer: Purvi, yeah I think its about your dress. I bet if I wore it, it would add another 20 kgs on me as well. :)
Situation 3: When Purvi was booking her railway ticket and I suggested she should rather travel by air coz the tickets are easily available:
Purvi: I don’t feel safer traveling by air
Me: Of course you don’t. With that weight, even the pilot would be scared flying
Probable answer: Of course you don’t. But maybe you could book two tickets for yourself, so that would compensate for your extra weight. :)
Ashish says that I should atleast try and keep in good books of Trishna coz once we are outcasted by the society we will have only her to bank upon. On the contrary, Trishna says that she would be the first one to throw sho(e) me away. Dunno wat to do? :)
Being the loving person that he is, replied instantly, “That’s great! Then both of us will live in isolation and will have all the time in the world for ourselves”. I cant be more thankful to god for being kind enough to bless me with a gem like him. I wish I could be equally happy for him. :)
I am critical but not heartless. I wouldn’t want Ashish to be outcasted because of me. So I took a self analysis test and thought of replies which could be more diplomatic than my spoken words.
Situation 1: Trishna shows a cute healthy baby picture to me on facebook:
Trish: Isn’t he the cutest… gopuchhululupuli (that’s the funny noise that she makes when she finds anything cute.)
Me: Aaawwww… really… look at his cheeks falling like a bull dog
Probable answer: Aaaaaaaaawwwwww… really… look at his cheeks so healthy. No where in comparison to a bull dog :)
Situation 2: Purvi checking herself out in the mirror asks me:
Purvi: Do you this I look fat in this dress
Me: Purvi, It’s not really about the dress.
Probable answer: Purvi, yeah I think its about your dress. I bet if I wore it, it would add another 20 kgs on me as well. :)
Situation 3: When Purvi was booking her railway ticket and I suggested she should rather travel by air coz the tickets are easily available:
Purvi: I don’t feel safer traveling by air
Me: Of course you don’t. With that weight, even the pilot would be scared flying
Probable answer: Of course you don’t. But maybe you could book two tickets for yourself, so that would compensate for your extra weight. :)
Ashish says that I should atleast try and keep in good books of Trishna coz once we are outcasted by the society we will have only her to bank upon. On the contrary, Trishna says that she would be the first one to throw sho(e) me away. Dunno wat to do? :)
We never fight!
Ashish and I never fight. There is an unspoken understanding between us. Whenever an argument begins, he keeps quiet, will let me finish my side of the story, very gently put his view forward, calm down the ‘yelling’ me and then apologize. :). He’s a very well trained boy friend.
Some of you might think that he’s a hen-pecked bf. Before I even start proving that he’s not hen-pecked, let me tell you that being hen-pecked is not an easy task :)
“I think I’ll make all d wedding cards myself”, I said that after one of my quilled cards was appreciated and accepted well by the society.
“No sweety, that’ll be too taxing. We would rather get them printed from outside”, said the concerned person in him.
“You are just not confident about my skills. Aren’t you?”
“You know that’s not true. If you want we’ll get atleast half of them printed” I could sense hesitation in his voice
“I know you don’t wanna take chances Ashish” I call him by his name when I’m angry
“Hon, you are misjudging me” He dare not call me by MY name even if he’s angry.
I remember telling him (or ordering him?) that I might not attend the wedding myself if it wasn’t according to my plan. That’s when he gave up. And ever since then, his conversations are pretty much limited to the following words:
“As you wish”
“If that makes you happy”
“I am sure that’s a beautiful plan”
“Of course we’ll have it your way. (Like I have a say?)” I could read his mind.
“BTW, I don’t understand why do I keep getting an “All d best” message from your friends?”
Some of you might think that he’s a hen-pecked bf. Before I even start proving that he’s not hen-pecked, let me tell you that being hen-pecked is not an easy task :)
“I think I’ll make all d wedding cards myself”, I said that after one of my quilled cards was appreciated and accepted well by the society.
“No sweety, that’ll be too taxing. We would rather get them printed from outside”, said the concerned person in him.
“You are just not confident about my skills. Aren’t you?”
“You know that’s not true. If you want we’ll get atleast half of them printed” I could sense hesitation in his voice
“I know you don’t wanna take chances Ashish” I call him by his name when I’m angry
“Hon, you are misjudging me” He dare not call me by MY name even if he’s angry.
I remember telling him (or ordering him?) that I might not attend the wedding myself if it wasn’t according to my plan. That’s when he gave up. And ever since then, his conversations are pretty much limited to the following words:
“As you wish”
“If that makes you happy”
“I am sure that’s a beautiful plan”
“Of course we’ll have it your way. (Like I have a say?)” I could read his mind.
“BTW, I don’t understand why do I keep getting an “All d best” message from your friends?”
Monday, June 7, 2010
Quilling : My latest developed passion
For those less educated, Qulling is an art of rolling paper strips and shaping them to crate different designs. I accidently came across a blog of a dear friend where she had put up her quilled designs. They were so fascinating that I decided to learn up all about it. After a few weeks of practice, I’ve become a pro in it. Considering the humble person that I am, instead of praising myself, I would just quote a few people who saw my work:
Trishna, “Deepali, this work is radiant. You must be so proud of yourself”
Priyanka, “Deepali, you have magical hands. Beautiful work”
Purvi, “I cant wait for the day you start selling this. I’ll buy it all.”
Abhishek, “You are a pro dude”
Ashish, “I have never seen such a beautiful art. I am so proud of you. I can just stare at your work for hours”
Deepaish, “DJ, you are super talented”
Now I don’t remember the exact words spoken by all the above, but they were almost on similar lines. (“wink”). Here, putting up a few pictures of my work for you guys to decide for yourself. :)
My life has finally found a purpose. I dedicate my life to quilling. So much so, I have decided to make all my wedding cards myself. I only fear I might fall in love with them and won’t be able to part with them :)
Trishna, “Deepali, this work is radiant. You must be so proud of yourself”
Priyanka, “Deepali, you have magical hands. Beautiful work”
Purvi, “I cant wait for the day you start selling this. I’ll buy it all.”
Abhishek, “You are a pro dude”
Ashish, “I have never seen such a beautiful art. I am so proud of you. I can just stare at your work for hours”
Deepaish, “DJ, you are super talented”
Now I don’t remember the exact words spoken by all the above, but they were almost on similar lines. (“wink”). Here, putting up a few pictures of my work for you guys to decide for yourself. :)
My life has finally found a purpose. I dedicate my life to quilling. So much so, I have decided to make all my wedding cards myself. I only fear I might fall in love with them and won’t be able to part with them :)
GM Diet works!!!
My apologies for not being regular on this site. My boss has been piling tonnes of work on me in office and the other times when I am not working; I’m dancing, gyming, or quilling. So you see, life in the past one month has been very busy, unlike Mumbai where I had all the time in the world during office hours. No offense to my ex boss, but I got plenty of time to update at least 5 posts a month . Today my boss is out of town for a week. He’s claiming his LTA. God bless the committee who thought of designing this LTA plan. It’s not only necessary for the employee but also beneficial for his colleagues. So I vow to post one new entry everyday of this week to make up for the lost one month.
Today is my last day of GM diet. I had to do it for one simple reason. Weight loss. I had become round and hideous, and did very little to curb my craving for sweets. So much so, I joined gym, worked out for one hour in the morning, walk 8 kms in the evening and then one hour of rigorous dance class. But none of this was benefiting me. I guess eating one tin of milk maid after every session of work out wasn’t a great idea. So I was advised by a friend, “Dude, you need dieting, before you die eating”.
Today, I have completed 7 days of GM diet. Though I did cheat in between, had a few cookies when it got uncontrollable, but I still did manage to lose around 3 kgs. Resisting the temptation during the first two days was quite tough, hence on the third day I gave up and didn’t resist. Even though I claimed I was on this diet, I ate almost anything that I wanted to. So I guess the weight loss happened only on the first two days. Yesterday I went out shopping. Where I would always buy a “medium” size, I bought “small”. I feel lighter and smarter (“wink”).
Bottom line is that GM diet does work. It’s a quick way to shed a few kilos in a week. I’m going on this diet again on Friday. This time I’ll be more determined and firm.
Today is my last day of GM diet. I had to do it for one simple reason. Weight loss. I had become round and hideous, and did very little to curb my craving for sweets. So much so, I joined gym, worked out for one hour in the morning, walk 8 kms in the evening and then one hour of rigorous dance class. But none of this was benefiting me. I guess eating one tin of milk maid after every session of work out wasn’t a great idea. So I was advised by a friend, “Dude, you need dieting, before you die eating”.
Today, I have completed 7 days of GM diet. Though I did cheat in between, had a few cookies when it got uncontrollable, but I still did manage to lose around 3 kgs. Resisting the temptation during the first two days was quite tough, hence on the third day I gave up and didn’t resist. Even though I claimed I was on this diet, I ate almost anything that I wanted to. So I guess the weight loss happened only on the first two days. Yesterday I went out shopping. Where I would always buy a “medium” size, I bought “small”. I feel lighter and smarter (“wink”).
Bottom line is that GM diet does work. It’s a quick way to shed a few kilos in a week. I’m going on this diet again on Friday. This time I’ll be more determined and firm.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
When I started Gyming!!!
I realized I was a fitness freak when our dad took me and my sister (aged 16 and 14 respectively, back then) to one of the typical Army Gym behind Officers’ Mess. For my non -army background friends (somehow calling them civilians is derogatory), an Officers Mess is not the place simply meant to dine. Here same set of people partied every single night, leaving their kids locked up in the TV room with one sahayak bhaiya to watch them over while they played tambola and ate chicken.
Coming back to the topic, our dad took us to gym for the first time. My sister and I went berserk on seeing the treadmill and such fancy equipments (even though most of them were rusted). Since my running shoes were still wet from last evening when I tried to wash them white for today, I had to wear my black leather school shoes to jog on the treadmill.
After 2 hours well spent on cycling, dumbles, treadmill and walker, we realized that in our excitement we had forgotten lunch. Since Shanu refused to get off the fitness equipment, food was ordered from mess (one place where we could buy food merely by signing the slips, which we later realized were sent to our dad for payment. That’s when we stopped treating our friends). It was only after 4 hours when we agreed to get off the treadmill and anyways in the 4 hours of running we had realized that in a treadmill you only run and run and run and run and go nowhere!
Our intensity didn’t come down next day either, which was a Sunday and we left home early to hit the gym. On Monday we hired Professional Movers & Packers to pack and transport us to our school.
According to my Physical Education teacher (who thought the World is flat… it is another thing that the football field was his World)… it takes more than 12 hours for lactic acid to form in overworked muscles. It happened a little sooner for us. Half way through the day my legs started paining. I couldn’t move a muscle and had to sit in class even while all my friends played basket ball. I tried looking occupied with my studies since exams were approaching. Maybe that’s why the authorities thought what a sincere kid I was and awarded me “The studious student” award. Parag nearly killed me for that since he worked hard to bag that one. It’s only when I explained him the mishap did he understand and let go. Next day onwards I saw him gymming- that is working out in Gym – (it is an equivalent of ‘Googling’) everyday.
Coming back to the topic, our dad took us to gym for the first time. My sister and I went berserk on seeing the treadmill and such fancy equipments (even though most of them were rusted). Since my running shoes were still wet from last evening when I tried to wash them white for today, I had to wear my black leather school shoes to jog on the treadmill.
After 2 hours well spent on cycling, dumbles, treadmill and walker, we realized that in our excitement we had forgotten lunch. Since Shanu refused to get off the fitness equipment, food was ordered from mess (one place where we could buy food merely by signing the slips, which we later realized were sent to our dad for payment. That’s when we stopped treating our friends). It was only after 4 hours when we agreed to get off the treadmill and anyways in the 4 hours of running we had realized that in a treadmill you only run and run and run and run and go nowhere!
Our intensity didn’t come down next day either, which was a Sunday and we left home early to hit the gym. On Monday we hired Professional Movers & Packers to pack and transport us to our school.
According to my Physical Education teacher (who thought the World is flat… it is another thing that the football field was his World)… it takes more than 12 hours for lactic acid to form in overworked muscles. It happened a little sooner for us. Half way through the day my legs started paining. I couldn’t move a muscle and had to sit in class even while all my friends played basket ball. I tried looking occupied with my studies since exams were approaching. Maybe that’s why the authorities thought what a sincere kid I was and awarded me “The studious student” award. Parag nearly killed me for that since he worked hard to bag that one. It’s only when I explained him the mishap did he understand and let go. Next day onwards I saw him gymming- that is working out in Gym – (it is an equivalent of ‘Googling’) everyday.
Friday, April 2, 2010
I love myself!!!
Supriya is getting engaged this week and this is the message she sent me: “What are you wearing for my engagement”
I replied, “I have the prettiest pink saree. I’ll probably wear that”
Supriya: “Wear whatever, but I’ll look the best on that day”.
Me: “Yeah! It’s your day. I’ll let you have it”.
To this she replied “Thank you my highness, I love you for this”. I could sense sarcasm in her text. But that didn't stop me and I replied “Yeah, I love myself too”.
She called me an egotist and refused to pick up the phone when I called to patch up. Either she was upset or got busy looking for an even prettier saree to compete with mine.
The other day, Trishna (my flat mate) caught me blowing kisses to myself and passed a comment “You must really love yourself na?”
Duh! I wonder what took her so long to figure that one out. Chances are, she did not notice all those love bites on my mirror image.
I don’t want to be bragging here, but I think if only I were a little more modest…I would be the perfect human being that ever walked this Earth. I just need to be a little more modest…that is all.
I found out that I was perfect the day I played Mira Bai’s role in a school play. After I got off the stage, the audience and my teacher went loud, crazy and unruly. She even told me if she was a guy and I was an adult, she would marry me. Puhleez! Like I would agree to that. One of my classmates walked up to me and said: “You were amazing. I don’t have words to describe you.”
I said: “Try harder.”
She didn’t yield to my prompt and we spent the next ten minutes discussing my background, my family and my future plans. When I got bored I told her: “Enough of me….let us now talk about you.”
I could see she was happy.
“What do YOU think of me?” I asked her…but she stared right through me and went on her way.
A friend of mine has fallen in love with himself and is looking forward to a life-long romance. As if that was not enough, another friend wants to die in her own arms. Now, what do you call that?
I replied, “I have the prettiest pink saree. I’ll probably wear that”
Supriya: “Wear whatever, but I’ll look the best on that day”.
Me: “Yeah! It’s your day. I’ll let you have it”.
To this she replied “Thank you my highness, I love you for this”. I could sense sarcasm in her text. But that didn't stop me and I replied “Yeah, I love myself too”.
She called me an egotist and refused to pick up the phone when I called to patch up. Either she was upset or got busy looking for an even prettier saree to compete with mine.
The other day, Trishna (my flat mate) caught me blowing kisses to myself and passed a comment “You must really love yourself na?”
Duh! I wonder what took her so long to figure that one out. Chances are, she did not notice all those love bites on my mirror image.
I don’t want to be bragging here, but I think if only I were a little more modest…I would be the perfect human being that ever walked this Earth. I just need to be a little more modest…that is all.
I found out that I was perfect the day I played Mira Bai’s role in a school play. After I got off the stage, the audience and my teacher went loud, crazy and unruly. She even told me if she was a guy and I was an adult, she would marry me. Puhleez! Like I would agree to that. One of my classmates walked up to me and said: “You were amazing. I don’t have words to describe you.”
I said: “Try harder.”
She didn’t yield to my prompt and we spent the next ten minutes discussing my background, my family and my future plans. When I got bored I told her: “Enough of me….let us now talk about you.”
I could see she was happy.
“What do YOU think of me?” I asked her…but she stared right through me and went on her way.
A friend of mine has fallen in love with himself and is looking forward to a life-long romance. As if that was not enough, another friend wants to die in her own arms. Now, what do you call that?
Friday, March 12, 2010
If Men stop lying
What would happen if tomorrow all men in the World stop lying? They will start dying. Simple.
You probably think I said the men would be dying because it rhymed with lying. No…if I wanted a word that rhymed with lying…I would have gone with – crying, spying, eyeing, flying, sighing and vying…and I can assure you all of them would have made sense and yet rhymed with lying.
But believe me…the moment man stops lying…he will have no option left but to leave this world. The logic is simple…can fish live without water? Can bears live without salmons? Can butter flies live without necter? Can men live without lying?
Let’s take an example and judge for yourself:-
Mom: I look different today
Dad: I don’t think so. You look perfect as always
Mom: Do you think I look fat?
Now here, dad is left with two options. Either:
Dad: (after a long pause)… yeah. Maybe u’ve put on some weight. (and then apologize for the next few weeks)
Or
Dad: (Without a pause)… Not at all. You look exactly like on the day we got married (and expect a delicious meal)
Men from different religion, caste, creed, economic strata lie the same. I realized this fact only a few days back when Ashish dozed off while talking to me on the phone and I kept chatting for another 10 minutes while there was no response form his side. Considering the fact that he is a patient listener, I continued talking without any doubts in my mind until I heard him snore at the other end. Yes! He was snoring while talking to me. I remember how my dad would walk away or get pissed even if we yawned while he spoke to us and mind you, Ashish was SNORING. My dad and I share some common traits and short-temper, runs in our blood. So I yelled out his name loud. Loud enough to wake up his room mates. This is how our conversation followed:
Me: How dare you fall asleep while talking to me?
Ashish: I wasn’t sleeping. I was reading an article
Me: Then how-cum I heard you snore?
Ashish: Snore? (In his mind: How could I?) That’s not possible for two reasons: one, I don’t snore; two: I wasn’t sleeping. I was studying. I could show you the article I was reading if only you log on skype.
Me: Are you sure, you aren’t lying?
Ashish: (In his mind: I guess she’s buying it. Lets push it a little more) Of course. I would never lie to you
And that’s how he lied to me AGAIN.
But men are not to be blamed completely for lying. Women have a strong hand leading men to lie. Women will forgive and forget, but wont let men forgive that they have forgiven and forgotten. Just like for the next couple of months, I didn’t let go of the fact that he slept while talking to me and then lied and then lied again to cover the previous lie and again.
You probably think I said the men would be dying because it rhymed with lying. No…if I wanted a word that rhymed with lying…I would have gone with – crying, spying, eyeing, flying, sighing and vying…and I can assure you all of them would have made sense and yet rhymed with lying.
But believe me…the moment man stops lying…he will have no option left but to leave this world. The logic is simple…can fish live without water? Can bears live without salmons? Can butter flies live without necter? Can men live without lying?
Let’s take an example and judge for yourself:-
Mom: I look different today
Dad: I don’t think so. You look perfect as always
Mom: Do you think I look fat?
Now here, dad is left with two options. Either:
Dad: (after a long pause)… yeah. Maybe u’ve put on some weight. (and then apologize for the next few weeks)
Or
Dad: (Without a pause)… Not at all. You look exactly like on the day we got married (and expect a delicious meal)
Men from different religion, caste, creed, economic strata lie the same. I realized this fact only a few days back when Ashish dozed off while talking to me on the phone and I kept chatting for another 10 minutes while there was no response form his side. Considering the fact that he is a patient listener, I continued talking without any doubts in my mind until I heard him snore at the other end. Yes! He was snoring while talking to me. I remember how my dad would walk away or get pissed even if we yawned while he spoke to us and mind you, Ashish was SNORING. My dad and I share some common traits and short-temper, runs in our blood. So I yelled out his name loud. Loud enough to wake up his room mates. This is how our conversation followed:
Me: How dare you fall asleep while talking to me?
Ashish: I wasn’t sleeping. I was reading an article
Me: Then how-cum I heard you snore?
Ashish: Snore? (In his mind: How could I?) That’s not possible for two reasons: one, I don’t snore; two: I wasn’t sleeping. I was studying. I could show you the article I was reading if only you log on skype.
Me: Are you sure, you aren’t lying?
Ashish: (In his mind: I guess she’s buying it. Lets push it a little more) Of course. I would never lie to you
And that’s how he lied to me AGAIN.
But men are not to be blamed completely for lying. Women have a strong hand leading men to lie. Women will forgive and forget, but wont let men forgive that they have forgiven and forgotten. Just like for the next couple of months, I didn’t let go of the fact that he slept while talking to me and then lied and then lied again to cover the previous lie and again.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Introducing!!!
Okay! So I’ve been getting loads of e-mails, SMSs, phone calls and letters regarding my previous post. I wonder why cant people just leave their queries in the comments box. It’s so much simpler, plus an increased number of comments make the blogger look popular.
Coming back to updating you guys about current happenings in my life, YES, I have finally found my “Mr. Right”. Boo Hoo to Abhishek, who always thought that no person would ever be patient enough to spend entire life with me and that I’ll end up living with Cats and Dogs. Well! Ashish proved him worng (or seems so at d moment).
Ashish Chauhan (had to write his name down a hundred times, to make sure I didn’t introduce him to my colleagues and friends as Ashish Chaudhary AGAIN) is a Delhiite (no offense, but when he sits down to talk, his UP wala accent can not be missed). The first thing I noticed about him was, innocence dripping down from every bit of his face which said “I am a good boy, please don’t bully me”. And his charming personality, ignoring the cold “Hi” he gave me.
He’s exact opposite of me. For one, he’s matured and sensible. He’s a perfect marriage material, whom you can proudly introduce to your parents and can be rest assured that they’ll love him too. He’s sensitive enough and would never do anything to hurt a fly. He’s a complete blend of intelligence (or am I the only one who thought HISTORY was boring?), humbleness (his trait of treating rich, poor, pretty and ugly in a similar way, totally floor me), simplicity (after all, not all Delhiites are show-offs), argumentative (did I mention he’s a Gemini, and will always get his way through. Sometimes, he wudn’t even make u realize that u have already lost).
In all, this Delhiite is perfect for me. He is patient, so listens to all the crap that I have to say. He is calm and soft spoken, so we have a perfect balance there. He’s an excellent cook, so needless to say, we strike a balance there as well. He’s a good person. But you know, how they say, “a good person need not be a good singer”. :-) Yet he manages to sing to me everynight and every morning. The man is full of self confidence as well.
He’s fun loving (even though he wouldn’t agree to it, since he likes to maintain his “grown up” image), hard working, very responsible and he is always there for his friends. He is an excellent counselor and can help you get out of the biggest mess, without any difficulty.
Since this introductory post was supposed to have all goody goody stuff, Ashish u escaped.
P.S.: Here's d link to his blog, which has my introductory post. And the self- obsessed person that I am, I would like all my followers to take a read. http://cleaningupmycloset.blogspot.com/
Cya soon!
Coming back to updating you guys about current happenings in my life, YES, I have finally found my “Mr. Right”. Boo Hoo to Abhishek, who always thought that no person would ever be patient enough to spend entire life with me and that I’ll end up living with Cats and Dogs. Well! Ashish proved him worng (or seems so at d moment).
Ashish Chauhan (had to write his name down a hundred times, to make sure I didn’t introduce him to my colleagues and friends as Ashish Chaudhary AGAIN) is a Delhiite (no offense, but when he sits down to talk, his UP wala accent can not be missed). The first thing I noticed about him was, innocence dripping down from every bit of his face which said “I am a good boy, please don’t bully me”. And his charming personality, ignoring the cold “Hi” he gave me.
He’s exact opposite of me. For one, he’s matured and sensible. He’s a perfect marriage material, whom you can proudly introduce to your parents and can be rest assured that they’ll love him too. He’s sensitive enough and would never do anything to hurt a fly. He’s a complete blend of intelligence (or am I the only one who thought HISTORY was boring?), humbleness (his trait of treating rich, poor, pretty and ugly in a similar way, totally floor me), simplicity (after all, not all Delhiites are show-offs), argumentative (did I mention he’s a Gemini, and will always get his way through. Sometimes, he wudn’t even make u realize that u have already lost).
In all, this Delhiite is perfect for me. He is patient, so listens to all the crap that I have to say. He is calm and soft spoken, so we have a perfect balance there. He’s an excellent cook, so needless to say, we strike a balance there as well. He’s a good person. But you know, how they say, “a good person need not be a good singer”. :-) Yet he manages to sing to me everynight and every morning. The man is full of self confidence as well.
He’s fun loving (even though he wouldn’t agree to it, since he likes to maintain his “grown up” image), hard working, very responsible and he is always there for his friends. He is an excellent counselor and can help you get out of the biggest mess, without any difficulty.
Since this introductory post was supposed to have all goody goody stuff, Ashish u escaped.
P.S.: Here's d link to his blog, which has my introductory post. And the self- obsessed person that I am, I would like all my followers to take a read. http://cleaningupmycloset.blogspot.com/
Cya soon!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
My world is suddenly crowded
Till a week back, my family consisted of my mom, dad, sister and Mishti. Now it has multipled. It consists of my mom, dad, sister, mishit, Ashish, his mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law and nephew. Phew! (and mind you, I am not even starting with the extended family).
On Feb 12 (the day families exchanged gifts and officially our status changed) the photo-ops were many and there were 3 cameras and 2 video carmeras. That is if I do not include the Handycams brought in by NDTV, Aaj Tak and Headlines Today. As a result, there could be a few snaps where the smile is fake. But I can assure you, those lines on my forehead (save-me) are real.
Now for the picture time. Each picture comes with an explanation….
The redden moment: When everybody had arrived and were seated in the drawing room, my dad brought me in front of everybody from behind the curtains (where I was watching Srilanka v/s New Zealand match) like any typical hindi movie. You can see me, fiddling with my ring and bangles. This is what happens when you are seated in an uncomfortable position and can’t even re- adjust coz any slight moment of yours would make head lines in tomorrows paper.
The Moment: This pic was snapped when Alka di (Ashish’s sister) was covering my head with the dupatta, symbolizing that I have been booked. You might notice the picture is a bit blurred, that is because my dad’s eyes were moist at the moment with tears while clicking the picture.
The mother-in-law moment: This was the only time when I had no thoughts running in my mind (apart from the I-hope-bindi-is-positioned-in-the-center-of-my-forehead). She’s a gem of a person, and I was at peace in this moment shared with her. I think the picture is dark, because by this time my dad was wiping his tears.
The what-next moment: This was clicked when my lap was overloaded with gifts. Even though my expressions suggest that I am smiling and blushing, I am actually confused and looking at my mom, waiting for a signal from her to tell me when to bow down and touch everybody’s feet.
The bowing moment: I was instructed by mom that I should touch every elder’s feet after the function. As luck would have it, I was the youngest in the room (if we exclude 2 year Vidyut). Even though this was something new for me, it didn’t show. Thanks to the one hour practice with my dad. Even though my expressions are not captured, I am wondering, when would be the right time for me to stand up?
The Big Family: Now we are a big happy family. First row (left to right): Alka di, Ashish’ Mausi, my mom, the shy me, Ashish’ mom. Second row (left to right): Vidyut (who had no clue what was happening), Kanishka (Ashish’ brother-in-law), Ashish’s dad, my dad (if u look closely, his eye are still moist) and Ashish’ Tauji. The only ones missing in this picture are Ashish himself, Shanu and Mishti of course, who likes to be clicked individually and hates group pictures.
God willing.. (and our family photographer willing) you will see many more such snaps on this website.
On Feb 12 (the day families exchanged gifts and officially our status changed) the photo-ops were many and there were 3 cameras and 2 video carmeras. That is if I do not include the Handycams brought in by NDTV, Aaj Tak and Headlines Today. As a result, there could be a few snaps where the smile is fake. But I can assure you, those lines on my forehead (save-me) are real.
Now for the picture time. Each picture comes with an explanation….
The redden moment: When everybody had arrived and were seated in the drawing room, my dad brought me in front of everybody from behind the curtains (where I was watching Srilanka v/s New Zealand match) like any typical hindi movie. You can see me, fiddling with my ring and bangles. This is what happens when you are seated in an uncomfortable position and can’t even re- adjust coz any slight moment of yours would make head lines in tomorrows paper.
The Moment: This pic was snapped when Alka di (Ashish’s sister) was covering my head with the dupatta, symbolizing that I have been booked. You might notice the picture is a bit blurred, that is because my dad’s eyes were moist at the moment with tears while clicking the picture.
The mother-in-law moment: This was the only time when I had no thoughts running in my mind (apart from the I-hope-bindi-is-positioned-in-the-center-of-my-forehead). She’s a gem of a person, and I was at peace in this moment shared with her. I think the picture is dark, because by this time my dad was wiping his tears.
The what-next moment: This was clicked when my lap was overloaded with gifts. Even though my expressions suggest that I am smiling and blushing, I am actually confused and looking at my mom, waiting for a signal from her to tell me when to bow down and touch everybody’s feet.
The bowing moment: I was instructed by mom that I should touch every elder’s feet after the function. As luck would have it, I was the youngest in the room (if we exclude 2 year Vidyut). Even though this was something new for me, it didn’t show. Thanks to the one hour practice with my dad. Even though my expressions are not captured, I am wondering, when would be the right time for me to stand up?
The Big Family: Now we are a big happy family. First row (left to right): Alka di, Ashish’ Mausi, my mom, the shy me, Ashish’ mom. Second row (left to right): Vidyut (who had no clue what was happening), Kanishka (Ashish’ brother-in-law), Ashish’s dad, my dad (if u look closely, his eye are still moist) and Ashish’ Tauji. The only ones missing in this picture are Ashish himself, Shanu and Mishti of course, who likes to be clicked individually and hates group pictures.
God willing.. (and our family photographer willing) you will see many more such snaps on this website.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Beware
If you know me, then this post will ring bells, so read ahead. And if you don’t know me, this would give you an idea of things to keep in mind before you intend being friends with me:
As most of you know, how humble and modest I am. The unpretentious me, cannot stand criticism. It is a very common trait in Virgos. We are very critical by nature and hence, know all about our short comings, so we don’t need people to tell us what we lack. Just to state an example, the first time I drove a four wheeler, I didn’t need Abhishek to tell me I messed up. After me knocking down one pillar, two dust –bins and one professor and after the college Administrative department deducted Rs 4500 from my deposit money for reconstruction of pillars, Rs 100 for dust-bins (don’t know why they cared so much for dust-bins, even though they weren’t used much) and a sincere apology letter to the professor, I didn’t need anyone else telling me how chaotic my driving skills were.
So, if you are thinking of criticizing me, think again. And know it well that even though I would be smiling at you while you tell me what I suck at, from deep within I would be cursing you and you’ll always be the person who CRITICIZED me.
Another thing that I can not handle well is someone pinching me. I swear to god, I can never forget the day when on my B’day I wore a clean white new dress, when my best friend (I am forgetting her name) came from behind, pinched me from behind and yelled “new pinch”. Mind you, I can hold a sword with my bare hands for five hours (with my palms bleeding, of course) but I can never take a pinch. That was the day and today is the day; I have not spoken to her. And now it’s too late to make up for the loss considering I don’t even remember her name.
Can’t think of more stuff that I can’t handle well (except for my sister of-course)… for now, keep these in mind. :-)
As most of you know, how humble and modest I am. The unpretentious me, cannot stand criticism. It is a very common trait in Virgos. We are very critical by nature and hence, know all about our short comings, so we don’t need people to tell us what we lack. Just to state an example, the first time I drove a four wheeler, I didn’t need Abhishek to tell me I messed up. After me knocking down one pillar, two dust –bins and one professor and after the college Administrative department deducted Rs 4500 from my deposit money for reconstruction of pillars, Rs 100 for dust-bins (don’t know why they cared so much for dust-bins, even though they weren’t used much) and a sincere apology letter to the professor, I didn’t need anyone else telling me how chaotic my driving skills were.
So, if you are thinking of criticizing me, think again. And know it well that even though I would be smiling at you while you tell me what I suck at, from deep within I would be cursing you and you’ll always be the person who CRITICIZED me.
Another thing that I can not handle well is someone pinching me. I swear to god, I can never forget the day when on my B’day I wore a clean white new dress, when my best friend (I am forgetting her name) came from behind, pinched me from behind and yelled “new pinch”. Mind you, I can hold a sword with my bare hands for five hours (with my palms bleeding, of course) but I can never take a pinch. That was the day and today is the day; I have not spoken to her. And now it’s too late to make up for the loss considering I don’t even remember her name.
Can’t think of more stuff that I can’t handle well (except for my sister of-course)… for now, keep these in mind. :-)
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
That's how I gain points
My mom is here in Ahmdabad giving me company. As much as I love her, I can not over look the ‘cleanliness freak’ and ‘organized’ her. Even before she was to arrive, I got up early and started cleaning my apartment. Trishna (my room mate) was so puzzled to see me cleaning that she thought I am under some sedatives and not realizing what I am upto. Else, which other person would puff the same cusions over n over again?
So while I was running at the station looking for my mom, I got a call from her telling me that she’s waiting at platform number 1. My heart pumped faster and I knew this wasn’t a good sign. She had reached before I did. That was minus one in her books.
From afar, I counted the pieces of luggage she had… there were 6 in all… not including her.
“I thought you will be leaving in a week’s time?” I asked.
“I’ll see how you’ve been managing uptil now and will decide accordingly”. She has a way about her that forces you to keep quite for at least ten minutes after she delivers a sentence, lest you kindle an erupting volcano. I kept quite.
In life there are moments when you gain points by arguing (like in a Placement Group Discussion) and there are moments in life when you gain points by keeping quite. I kept quite.
We reached auto rikshaw stand where drivers pounded on our luggage like it was their’s and started to yell “kahan jana hai” (where do you wanna go)? To avoid any more scenes, I quickly blurted “Manav Mandir Jaan hai”. Everybody then, started quoting prices. The scene was no less than a bid process, only difference being, here they couldn’t bribe us.
I pointed to a driver who had quoted the least and said “80 rupees theek hain.”
“What 80 rupees? Are you crazy?” I am not good in math so could only do a rough head- count to the number of people who turned their heads to see us…. Some 87 of them. Mind you, no one from her reaction could tell that she’s come to Ahmedabad for the first time. :-)
Somehow we managed to reach home and she saw my clean apartment. I can’t say much from her reaction but I think she liked it. I can say that coz she puffed (my already puffed) cusions only once. Dad will be arriving soon. I gotto plan to gain points there as well.
So while I was running at the station looking for my mom, I got a call from her telling me that she’s waiting at platform number 1. My heart pumped faster and I knew this wasn’t a good sign. She had reached before I did. That was minus one in her books.
From afar, I counted the pieces of luggage she had… there were 6 in all… not including her.
“I thought you will be leaving in a week’s time?” I asked.
“I’ll see how you’ve been managing uptil now and will decide accordingly”. She has a way about her that forces you to keep quite for at least ten minutes after she delivers a sentence, lest you kindle an erupting volcano. I kept quite.
In life there are moments when you gain points by arguing (like in a Placement Group Discussion) and there are moments in life when you gain points by keeping quite. I kept quite.
We reached auto rikshaw stand where drivers pounded on our luggage like it was their’s and started to yell “kahan jana hai” (where do you wanna go)? To avoid any more scenes, I quickly blurted “Manav Mandir Jaan hai”. Everybody then, started quoting prices. The scene was no less than a bid process, only difference being, here they couldn’t bribe us.
I pointed to a driver who had quoted the least and said “80 rupees theek hain.”
“What 80 rupees? Are you crazy?” I am not good in math so could only do a rough head- count to the number of people who turned their heads to see us…. Some 87 of them. Mind you, no one from her reaction could tell that she’s come to Ahmedabad for the first time. :-)
Somehow we managed to reach home and she saw my clean apartment. I can’t say much from her reaction but I think she liked it. I can say that coz she puffed (my already puffed) cusions only once. Dad will be arriving soon. I gotto plan to gain points there as well.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
About the Dogs in my life
How many of you, after reading the heading, thought this post is about my sister? I agree man is an animal (a few believe that even women are animals), but, I am in no way referring to her here.
Guess I should start with our first pet – Sandy. Don’t remember much about her, but I do remember her greeting guests by getting onto 2 legs and folding her hands, as though doing Namaste. Our dad not only managed to imbibe manners in us but also in Sandy. She was succeeded by Toffee, Pepsi, Tuesy and now Mishti. Our family is a dog lover family. Or should I say, they are “forced” dog lovers. I remember the first time Abhishek got me Mishti, this small little ball of fur who cudn’t even walk two steps without slipping, yet would try jumping off the basket she came in. When I took the basket to mama, she thought mishit was very cute, and asked me whose dog was it. I told her, it’s ours and that’s when the first blast came.
The series of explosions continued for about 4-5 months, where dad also suggested we should take her to the sai baba temple and leave her there. Somehow, it’s a very common phenomenon in Indian families, leave any unwanted child/ animal at the door steps of God and let him handle. Apparently, that’s where my parents found me too. Whenever, I misbehaved, my mom would threaten me to leave me back at the same temple where she found me. I was a smart child and gave it back to her once, “Ok, I’ll go where you found me from. Only the gold chain and bangles that I came with, return them to me”. Somehow, after that, this topic never came up.
Coming back to the topic “My parents being Dog lovers”, are now so fond of Mishti that now they don’t miss their own blood so much, since they always have Mishti around. This is how a usual conversation takes place at our home:
Me: Ma, I am coming home
Mom: Why, you just came 2 months back. At least give us some time to miss you
Ma: It’s been 4 months I was home
Mom: Oh! It’s been that long? Yeah, yeah, come down. Mishti’s stock of Chews, Shampoo, conditioner, and biscuits is almost over. Get the ones you got last time.
Now I am headed back home on 10th. My first bit of shopping would be for Mishti Jamwal and then for the rest of the family. I cant risk it!!!
Guess I should start with our first pet – Sandy. Don’t remember much about her, but I do remember her greeting guests by getting onto 2 legs and folding her hands, as though doing Namaste. Our dad not only managed to imbibe manners in us but also in Sandy. She was succeeded by Toffee, Pepsi, Tuesy and now Mishti. Our family is a dog lover family. Or should I say, they are “forced” dog lovers. I remember the first time Abhishek got me Mishti, this small little ball of fur who cudn’t even walk two steps without slipping, yet would try jumping off the basket she came in. When I took the basket to mama, she thought mishit was very cute, and asked me whose dog was it. I told her, it’s ours and that’s when the first blast came.
The series of explosions continued for about 4-5 months, where dad also suggested we should take her to the sai baba temple and leave her there. Somehow, it’s a very common phenomenon in Indian families, leave any unwanted child/ animal at the door steps of God and let him handle. Apparently, that’s where my parents found me too. Whenever, I misbehaved, my mom would threaten me to leave me back at the same temple where she found me. I was a smart child and gave it back to her once, “Ok, I’ll go where you found me from. Only the gold chain and bangles that I came with, return them to me”. Somehow, after that, this topic never came up.
Coming back to the topic “My parents being Dog lovers”, are now so fond of Mishti that now they don’t miss their own blood so much, since they always have Mishti around. This is how a usual conversation takes place at our home:
Me: Ma, I am coming home
Mom: Why, you just came 2 months back. At least give us some time to miss you
Ma: It’s been 4 months I was home
Mom: Oh! It’s been that long? Yeah, yeah, come down. Mishti’s stock of Chews, Shampoo, conditioner, and biscuits is almost over. Get the ones you got last time.
Now I am headed back home on 10th. My first bit of shopping would be for Mishti Jamwal and then for the rest of the family. I cant risk it!!!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Happening New Year!!!
My apologies to those who religiously visit my blog (They being very few, I can’t afford to lose them). Life’s been very busy at work front. My Grandfather once told me that there are two kinds of people: those who work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was less competition there. I being the hard worker that I am have not been finding time at all for my FANs ;-) sorry once again.
My mom had conveniently convinced us how we always tend to remain in the same state of mind as on New Year’s Day. If you cry on 1st January then you end up crying the entire year, if you smile then that’s what you do for the rest of the year. If you study on that particular day then you’ll study the entire year. Now this looked like a fair deal. We had to study only for a day and rest will be taken care of.
This New Year’s Day, I consumed calories!!!! OMG! I am gonna do that for one whole year and yes, this is the year when my worst night mare comes true and I grow FAT.
All scared and panicy I went on a diet for a week. But the only thing I lost was the week…. Nothing else. I also vowed never to consume sweets and keep my hands off condensed milk. C’mon! Whom am I kidding? I have guzzled Condensed milk my entire child hood as it was delicious and FREE. Now it's a necessity to keep my taste buds alive.
So dieting was futile. The next best option would be to burn the calories I consume. I made a time table (reminds me of my school days when the only thing I would do was renew my time table). Wake up early morning, jog, yoga, meditate, work, walk, dance, yoga and sleep. The only thing that I am following now is “sleep”. Quite typical me. What was I thinking?
Now, the only option left is, rush to a temple now and pray to god to make all my other friends fat. If you are my friend, I am kidding about the last option… ;-) I am just signing off to WORK.
Cheers
My mom had conveniently convinced us how we always tend to remain in the same state of mind as on New Year’s Day. If you cry on 1st January then you end up crying the entire year, if you smile then that’s what you do for the rest of the year. If you study on that particular day then you’ll study the entire year. Now this looked like a fair deal. We had to study only for a day and rest will be taken care of.
This New Year’s Day, I consumed calories!!!! OMG! I am gonna do that for one whole year and yes, this is the year when my worst night mare comes true and I grow FAT.
All scared and panicy I went on a diet for a week. But the only thing I lost was the week…. Nothing else. I also vowed never to consume sweets and keep my hands off condensed milk. C’mon! Whom am I kidding? I have guzzled Condensed milk my entire child hood as it was delicious and FREE. Now it's a necessity to keep my taste buds alive.
So dieting was futile. The next best option would be to burn the calories I consume. I made a time table (reminds me of my school days when the only thing I would do was renew my time table). Wake up early morning, jog, yoga, meditate, work, walk, dance, yoga and sleep. The only thing that I am following now is “sleep”. Quite typical me. What was I thinking?
Now, the only option left is, rush to a temple now and pray to god to make all my other friends fat. If you are my friend, I am kidding about the last option… ;-) I am just signing off to WORK.
Cheers
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
While I was away!!!
Gtalk Chat Window:
Me: Hey! I am coming to Jammu on 19th. So come to the Airport to receive me
Friend: tell me about your plan. Wait! I’ll call you
Me: No no, don’t call me. This new office is too small and I have to talk softly
Friend: hahahahaha
Me: ?
Friend: Talk softly? Is that even an option for you? You are so Loud!
My answer to that was, “You have to come to Jammu to see what is loud.”
So I was landing Jammu (Yes! It is safe to be there), after about 3 years. I have missed this place a lot; have missed all my cousins, my uncles, aunts, and all those Jamwals in Jammu who are distantly related to us. Somehow, EVERY person in Jammu has a story to narrate about my Dad’s notorious childhood. After all this is where my dad grew up and left his impact.
Coming back to the point, nothing much had changed there. People still living under the bridges, beggars with torn clothes everywhere (only now they had mobile phones), overcrowded tempos, and no electricity. Even the ditches were at the same place where I had left them (only they grew bigger in size). I headed my home.
The feeling of being amongst your own people is amazing. I have an elongated, extended family back in Jammu whom I haven’t met for the past 3 years. Those 3 years seemed like ages when I first saw my "kido" cousins for whom I had bought gifts from “Weekender Kids”. They have all grown to heights ranging from 5’4” to 5’9”. Somehow, I am the only one who stopped growing vertically after class V. Wonder if I can exchange those “kids” clothes for something my size.
My chachu’s (dad’s younger brother), grey head look took me by a surprise and made me wonder “How long was I gone?”. He who is 12 years younger to my dad has suddenly started looking 12 years elder to my grand dad. Not that he’s not charming anymore. He is very charming, but in a different league altogether.
The cousin, I have played “ghar- ghar” with, the one with whom I have grown up, is suddenly a mom. She was playing all mom duties, feeding the baby, instead of running around in the garden with her mom’s dupatta. She was behaving herself, instead of ringing stranger’s door bells and fleeing. She was a MOM. Those words are still ringing in my mind, and I think it’ll take some time to digest the fact.
The scene during nights was pretty much the same. Everybody comes over, dadima gets busy preparing tea and arranging for snacks, and then starts the “gossip” session. This ever lasting Gossip session is my best part. It makes me feel alive. Everybody shouting at the top of their voices from every corner, no body listens to anyone yet make their point, Dadima shouting from the kitchen, kids running around the room, chachu passing his invaluable comments in between which would crack up everyone and then that laughter (loud laughter) which continues for good about 10 minutes, till the time of next session. Ah!!! I simply love it.
Another part that I totally enjoyed was, everybody coming upto me and telling me how I have lost so much weight and have gone weak. According to some, it was the work pressure, to some I am not eating well, and to some I am worrying about my future too much. The fact they all are missing out is that I have been working too hard to lose weight. As long as, my hard work is showing, I don’t care what label they put to it.
I think the point that I am trying to make is, I loved every bit of being in Jammu (including the cold). For a North Indian turned South Indian like me, minus 5 degrees was unbearable. But I somehow managed to survive and come back alive. Or maybe that was because of the fact that I bathed once on Monday and was done for the week.
It was very cold. I was standing under the single ray of sunlightfrom that single ray, when a stranger walked upto me and asked, “Oh! You must be feeling very cold. Look at your lips, all blue”
Me: “Oh yes! I can’t stand winters”
Stranger: “yeah! People from the south usually cant. Where are you from?”
Me: “Jammu”
I should really visit Jammu often to save myself from such embarrassments.
Me: Hey! I am coming to Jammu on 19th. So come to the Airport to receive me
Friend: tell me about your plan. Wait! I’ll call you
Me: No no, don’t call me. This new office is too small and I have to talk softly
Friend: hahahahaha
Me: ?
Friend: Talk softly? Is that even an option for you? You are so Loud!
My answer to that was, “You have to come to Jammu to see what is loud.”
So I was landing Jammu (Yes! It is safe to be there), after about 3 years. I have missed this place a lot; have missed all my cousins, my uncles, aunts, and all those Jamwals in Jammu who are distantly related to us. Somehow, EVERY person in Jammu has a story to narrate about my Dad’s notorious childhood. After all this is where my dad grew up and left his impact.
Coming back to the point, nothing much had changed there. People still living under the bridges, beggars with torn clothes everywhere (only now they had mobile phones), overcrowded tempos, and no electricity. Even the ditches were at the same place where I had left them (only they grew bigger in size). I headed my home.
The feeling of being amongst your own people is amazing. I have an elongated, extended family back in Jammu whom I haven’t met for the past 3 years. Those 3 years seemed like ages when I first saw my "kido" cousins for whom I had bought gifts from “Weekender Kids”. They have all grown to heights ranging from 5’4” to 5’9”. Somehow, I am the only one who stopped growing vertically after class V. Wonder if I can exchange those “kids” clothes for something my size.
My chachu’s (dad’s younger brother), grey head look took me by a surprise and made me wonder “How long was I gone?”. He who is 12 years younger to my dad has suddenly started looking 12 years elder to my grand dad. Not that he’s not charming anymore. He is very charming, but in a different league altogether.
The cousin, I have played “ghar- ghar” with, the one with whom I have grown up, is suddenly a mom. She was playing all mom duties, feeding the baby, instead of running around in the garden with her mom’s dupatta. She was behaving herself, instead of ringing stranger’s door bells and fleeing. She was a MOM. Those words are still ringing in my mind, and I think it’ll take some time to digest the fact.
The scene during nights was pretty much the same. Everybody comes over, dadima gets busy preparing tea and arranging for snacks, and then starts the “gossip” session. This ever lasting Gossip session is my best part. It makes me feel alive. Everybody shouting at the top of their voices from every corner, no body listens to anyone yet make their point, Dadima shouting from the kitchen, kids running around the room, chachu passing his invaluable comments in between which would crack up everyone and then that laughter (loud laughter) which continues for good about 10 minutes, till the time of next session. Ah!!! I simply love it.
Another part that I totally enjoyed was, everybody coming upto me and telling me how I have lost so much weight and have gone weak. According to some, it was the work pressure, to some I am not eating well, and to some I am worrying about my future too much. The fact they all are missing out is that I have been working too hard to lose weight. As long as, my hard work is showing, I don’t care what label they put to it.
I think the point that I am trying to make is, I loved every bit of being in Jammu (including the cold). For a North Indian turned South Indian like me, minus 5 degrees was unbearable. But I somehow managed to survive and come back alive. Or maybe that was because of the fact that I bathed once on Monday and was done for the week.
It was very cold. I was standing under the single ray of sunlightfrom that single ray, when a stranger walked upto me and asked, “Oh! You must be feeling very cold. Look at your lips, all blue”
Me: “Oh yes! I can’t stand winters”
Stranger: “yeah! People from the south usually cant. Where are you from?”
Me: “Jammu”
I should really visit Jammu often to save myself from such embarrassments.
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