I don’t remember when I took my first steps, but I am sure they were heading towards trouble. And since I don’t remember, let’s cook up a story (as always).
I was playing with juno (my big brown teddy bear that protected me against the monster that hid under my bed, every night), when I heard the door bell ring. My mom was in the shower and chances were that she didn’t hear the door bell ring else there would have been some commotion. My mom would have run towards me to tidy me up before she presents me to the guests, and then chase Sandy (our first dog) to tie her up. But since none of this was happening, I got anxious and to discover what was wrong; I got up on my two feet, with the help of the wall.
“Wow! This is what the world looks like from up here”, I thought to myself.
I was happy and clapping my hands. Sandy didn’t notice my achievement. She was busy barking at the door.
I walked into my parent’s room and could hear my mom singing a song while in the shower. “Why is she making that noise?” I wondered.
I somehow pulled myself up to reach the handle of the door, but all that came to my hand was the lock. I turned it around.
In no time, there was continuous ringing of door bell, Sandy was barking endlessly and now my mom had figured it all out and she had started yelling too. I didn’t understand what was going on. I was scared now. It took me a while to realize that I had locked my mom inside the bathroom. How did I do that? I am just a baby.
Now the phone had started ringing too. It was getting noisier. My mom was trying to explain me how unlock the door. But I got confused between “left” and “right”. Somehow, my dad (who was at the door), broke in through the kitchen window and rescued us. That’s when I knew, my dad was my DAY hero (Juno being my NIGHT hero).
Ever since that day, I have been landing into troubles. Sometime involuntary, but mostly voluntarily. Like the time, I decided to get off the connecting flight from Trivandrum to Mumbai, at Manglore, because my dad gave me some emotional talk on how he was craving to see me.
In that half an hour halt, I got approval from my boss for leaves; I got down the aircraft, got my luggage out and signed a consent form. But as fate was to have it, I wasn’t allowed to leave Manglore airport premises until the aircraft reached Mumbai (just so, I had planted a bomb in the flight, I could be easily arrested). It was 9 PM and the flight landed Mumbai at mid-night. I was free to go now (even though I didn’t know how and where to go). Luckily, a group of flight attendants had just finished their shift and were leaving too.
I tagged along. Even though I didn’t know where I was going, I just asked them to drop me at whatever juncture I can get a cab for the nearest bus-stop/ railway station.
They dropped me at an empty cross road, with just one auto rickshaw standing in the dark and not a single soul around (except for maybe some street dogs). As scared as I was, I didn’t let that show on my face. I walked up to the rickshaw, summoned up enough courage to wake the driver up from his sleep and told him that I wanted to go to the nearest Bus stop.
He gave me the same look as the station master gives to Kareena Kapoor in Jab We Met, though Jab We Met was released after this incidence. Before he could say anything, I hopped in and it was an hour ride. It was so dark that I couldn’t read the name of the places we were passing by. I started murmuring some chants and relied on the driver.
He then dropped me at this remote and lonely Bus Stop, where I could only see some shadily dressed men, smoking bidi (cigarettes), and a few ruins of buses.
A quick scan of the place told me that it’s not going to be a safe ride home. I went up to the ticket counter, and woke up the person behind the counter (Wonder why was everybody asleep at 1 AM). He told me the next bus will leave only at 4 AM. I could not risk my life till 4 AM, so I decided to walk up to the railway station and get the next available train.
But God had already decided not to give it easy to me. As it turned out, the train I should have caught was leaving in front of my eyes. Alas, I wasn’t a bollywood actor who could jump in a running train. So I went back to the bus stop and decided to wait until 4 AM.
Mind you, back then, India did not have smart phones (or maybe I didn’t have one), so no GPS, nothing to get online information, and nothing to entertain you. Somehow I survived till 4 AM. Now they had started boarding passengers, into the same bus which looked like ruins of a bus. Passengers included two old men, a group of middle aged men (I didn't know what they looked like, as they had their faces covered with stoles) and a driver. I got the end corner seat for myself (if we could call it a seat at all).
It was a rough ride and I didn't think we will reach Coimbatore in single piece, but we made it in about 3 hours. Now, it was getting brighter, I could see some people on the streets and I was relieved. My phone had turned off too, so I couldn’t get in touch with my parents to tell them where I was. I thought they must be worried sick, so without wasting a single moment in searching for a telephone booth, getting something to eat and freshening up, I got the next available bus to Ooty.
That seemed like a never ending journey, but finally I made it home. I slept like a log after that and woke up after 24 hours with sore muscles. And my dad swore that he would never give me emotional talks (which didn’t last long) :)
Many more of my adventure stories coming up soon!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Chocolate Power
Chocolates have been giving me power since 26 years now. Let’s not get carried away by the number here, let’s focus on the topic “Power Chocolate”. Remember the “Milky Bar, Give me the Power” ad? Being the naive kid I was, I sincerely thought that a Milky Bar could make us all fly in space. Since that day till today I’ve been eating chocolates everyday hoping to be able to spin like Shaktiman (Indian Superhero). Too bad, “amul milk” ads did not leave that kind of impact on me. Though I can still sing along with that jingle.
My day begins with a chocolate and ends with one. If I wasn’t under close supervision of my mother (before marriage) and now my husband (after marriage), I would probably sleep with a chocolate in my mouth. Now I sleep with the taste of Himalaya’s Neem toothpaste.
If you know me or have been a regular follower of my blog (kudos to you), you would also know that I am a hyper active person. My body seems to lack a “stop” button. I am as energetic at the end of the day as I am at the beginning.
We Jamwals are known for our boundless energy, liveliness and the oomph as we are always high on sugar.
At work, when I run out of my daily dose of chocolate by noon, I set out for a hunt, sniffing and tracing sweets. Just so I don’t bother my colleagues in the middle of something important, they have started keeping aside something sweet for me, in a bowl outside their offices. I almost feel like one of those corrupt police officers from old bollywood movies, who would torture poor villagers to pay him weekly protection money. The failure to do so would have consequences. In my case, they will have to listen to my whining.
Only the other day, when our office was celebrating 2 birthdays with 3 different cakes at once, everybody was being asked which cake would they want to try, and when it came to me, I was asked “which one would you like to START with Deepali?” (With emphasis on “Start”)
“How can you be so sure I will try all 3 of them?” I spoke in my defense
“Oh! I am sorry, which one would you want then?”
“I’ll Start with a small piece of all 3” ;)
There I go. I can’t even resist my urge to prove a point in my defense.
Well, I am little to be blamed here. I have this in my blood. My grandmother tells us that my father would carry plain sugar in his pant pockets to school, just in case he didn’t get anything else sweet to eat.
So it runs in my family. All of us are sweetoholics. Except for that one day, when I made this sweet dish, (Bread halwa) which was mind numbingly sweet, and none of my family members could eat more than a bite of it. In-fact, my sister even swore, she would never eat anything sweet I ever make in my life. And I ate the whole dish single handedly. That day I officially qualified to be the sweet teeth (not just tooth) of the family. What an honor that was J
But I do realize the negative impact of being a sweetoholic. Spending half my life on a dentist’s chair has costed me a fortune apart from half my life J . So I decided to challenge myself to go off sweets for as long as I can. Day 1 was difficult. I couldn’t concentrate at work. And once I couldn’t work, I kept thinking of chocolate. As we all know, an idle mind is a chocolate factory. That day, all my colleagues’ chocolate bowls were intact. They started to worry, but I assured it was a voluntary act and I am not under any influence.
Chocolate addiction is worse than Cocaine addiction (not that I have experienced latter). At least they have rehabs and support groups for cocaine addiction. On the other hand, people just point and laugh at you when you tell them you have a chocolate addiction. It’s not considered as horrifying as cocaine for some reason.
The day I decided to go off sweets, we had a birthday in office, followed by valentine’s day, followed by another B’day. Everybody knew what that meant, “Deepali will give in”.
BUT I DIDN’T
I didn’t even go close to the cakes, even though I could smell them from miles apart, or maybe I had a small slice when no one was watching, but that doesn’t count since no one was watching.
I lasted for 3 days and I am very proud of myself, but I never plan to go off sweets again.
I will brush 5 times a day, work out twice as much, but will not give in my source of power. SWEETS!
My day begins with a chocolate and ends with one. If I wasn’t under close supervision of my mother (before marriage) and now my husband (after marriage), I would probably sleep with a chocolate in my mouth. Now I sleep with the taste of Himalaya’s Neem toothpaste.
If you know me or have been a regular follower of my blog (kudos to you), you would also know that I am a hyper active person. My body seems to lack a “stop” button. I am as energetic at the end of the day as I am at the beginning.
We Jamwals are known for our boundless energy, liveliness and the oomph as we are always high on sugar.
At work, when I run out of my daily dose of chocolate by noon, I set out for a hunt, sniffing and tracing sweets. Just so I don’t bother my colleagues in the middle of something important, they have started keeping aside something sweet for me, in a bowl outside their offices. I almost feel like one of those corrupt police officers from old bollywood movies, who would torture poor villagers to pay him weekly protection money. The failure to do so would have consequences. In my case, they will have to listen to my whining.
Only the other day, when our office was celebrating 2 birthdays with 3 different cakes at once, everybody was being asked which cake would they want to try, and when it came to me, I was asked “which one would you like to START with Deepali?” (With emphasis on “Start”)
“How can you be so sure I will try all 3 of them?” I spoke in my defense
“Oh! I am sorry, which one would you want then?”
“I’ll Start with a small piece of all 3” ;)
There I go. I can’t even resist my urge to prove a point in my defense.
Well, I am little to be blamed here. I have this in my blood. My grandmother tells us that my father would carry plain sugar in his pant pockets to school, just in case he didn’t get anything else sweet to eat.
So it runs in my family. All of us are sweetoholics. Except for that one day, when I made this sweet dish, (Bread halwa) which was mind numbingly sweet, and none of my family members could eat more than a bite of it. In-fact, my sister even swore, she would never eat anything sweet I ever make in my life. And I ate the whole dish single handedly. That day I officially qualified to be the sweet teeth (not just tooth) of the family. What an honor that was J
But I do realize the negative impact of being a sweetoholic. Spending half my life on a dentist’s chair has costed me a fortune apart from half my life J . So I decided to challenge myself to go off sweets for as long as I can. Day 1 was difficult. I couldn’t concentrate at work. And once I couldn’t work, I kept thinking of chocolate. As we all know, an idle mind is a chocolate factory. That day, all my colleagues’ chocolate bowls were intact. They started to worry, but I assured it was a voluntary act and I am not under any influence.
Chocolate addiction is worse than Cocaine addiction (not that I have experienced latter). At least they have rehabs and support groups for cocaine addiction. On the other hand, people just point and laugh at you when you tell them you have a chocolate addiction. It’s not considered as horrifying as cocaine for some reason.
The day I decided to go off sweets, we had a birthday in office, followed by valentine’s day, followed by another B’day. Everybody knew what that meant, “Deepali will give in”.
BUT I DIDN’T
I didn’t even go close to the cakes, even though I could smell them from miles apart, or maybe I had a small slice when no one was watching, but that doesn’t count since no one was watching.
I lasted for 3 days and I am very proud of myself, but I never plan to go off sweets again.
I will brush 5 times a day, work out twice as much, but will not give in my source of power. SWEETS!
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