Albums…no.. albums. Yeah, albums. I hate albums. Especially if they do not belong to me.
I hate them so much, that I have even stopped visiting my friends and relatives. Here is what happened when I last visited a friend’s place. (name kept confidential to prevent the person’s identity)
It all started because Prachi (Lets say), my friend wanted to take a whole lifetime to get dressed for dinner. I being the punctual person, reached bang on time to discover she had just gone to take a bath. After she slammed the bathroom door shut, I turned towards the Femina magazine lying around and buried myself deep into it. I still cannot fathom what made her mother to think that I was bored. She walked up to me, with something that seemed like a pillow from a far.
“You have not seen Viren’s marriage photographs have you?”
Viren was Prachi’s brother (or sister? Can never tell). I hated him. One he wasn’t that cool that he thought himself to be, and two he hated me coz he thought I was the reason behind his sister’s low grades.
Even before I could lie that I had seen it before, and liked it, she was beside me on the couch. She was excited and understandably so. Viren was her only son and his marriage was probably her biggest single achievement in life. But why the &^%$ did she think I would be interested, I would never know.
“Nice couple, heyn?” She asked.
“Yeah. They look so happy at the moment. Poor Chap! Doesn’t know what’s in store for him,” I said. I got a cold stare, but the torture went one.
Pointing to a picture of a man and woman who looked like they were straight out of X-Files, she said: “That is his in-laws. Nice people. They even bought me a saree.”
“Wow. Great.”
“Ho… you should see the color of the saree. It is amazing. You don’t get these colors south of Baroda. Will show you the saree next time, I washed it in the morning and it might be wet.”
I let out a sigh. It was a close shave.
“Or would you want to come to the terrace?”
“No aunty, that is fine. Prachi has anyways come out,” I blurted out in sheer desperation. She was my ticket to freedom, and I was going to use her as a human shield wherever necessary.
By now, Prachi had come out. She saw me looking thro’ the album, and shouted at the top of her voice: “Mama, show her the one where I am wearing the pink lehanga. Ohh…Deeps that’s a killer.”
I tell you, it’s a sin to be punctual in this era
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
18 Till I Die
Yesterday, while filling up a form, I had to tick beside the check box of age group 18- 24. That is when it struck me, I am gonna be 24 and in a year I’ll be checking in 25-30 Years Age Group. As if somebody just smacked me with a bulky and solid rod of reality leaving me spell bound. I went into flash back trying to figure out, where I lost my years from 18 to 23.
Time seems to have stopped when I was 18. It was just yesterday when we had those sleepless nights one day before exams, when we were bumped out of class for being naughty, when we would lie to our parents for catching up with friends, bunking classes for watching movie on the first day, line up outside Principal’s office, those morning assemblies, morning prayers, House on duty, wrong uniform line, forging parents signatures on report cards, promising ourselves to perform better next time, gossip sessions outside cycle stand for hours after school, punctured tires, ripped seats, wet paper ball games, evening tutorials, preparing time tables one month before exams, re-scheduling time table every day, messed up room, yelling mom, no sense of responsibility, secret crushes, borrowing money from friends to lend another friend, spending more time in canteen/ foot ball ground than in classes yet giving lectures to juniors on importance of attending class, tension before results, declaration of results, comparing marks, promoted to next year, parties, night outs… blah blah blah…. I can go non-stop but that’s not what this post is about.
I have all these memories so clear in my mind that I seem not to have grown beyond 18. I have never thought of myself as a working woman, always considered myself as a kid. I am still the same as I was 6 years back (not including the extra kilos), only with some sense in my, then, empty head; an ounce of responsibility and slight maturity.
I have always known my age but it’s only when those small irritating kids of passengers travelling with you call you “Aunty” that you realize you are no more 18. In 6 days I’ll be 24. Where did time fly, where was I all this while. Is this some kind of time- travel, or was I sleeping while growing old and putting on weight? I guess when they say “a person is as old as he feels” holds true. Can’t believe I am saying this coz when I was 18 and someone said:
“Age is what you feel it to be”, I would say “yeah right!!! Grow up!!!”
When they would say, “That man never grows old who keeps a child in his heart”, I would say, “Cut the crap!!!”
Well! I was naïve back then. And Now:
“Wanna stay young for the rest of my life,
Never say “no”- try everything twice,
Till the angles come, and ask me to fly,
I’m gonna be 18, till I die.”
---- Brian Adams
It’s very difficult for me to grow old coz I have a child alive in me, I have a heart full of love in me. As I grow old I realize that I love those most whom I loved first, my family (that includes Mishti). Age is merely an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. Plus I can’t stop time. Everybody is bound to grow old, but we have an option of staying young.
“We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
---- some wise person
Time seems to have stopped when I was 18. It was just yesterday when we had those sleepless nights one day before exams, when we were bumped out of class for being naughty, when we would lie to our parents for catching up with friends, bunking classes for watching movie on the first day, line up outside Principal’s office, those morning assemblies, morning prayers, House on duty, wrong uniform line, forging parents signatures on report cards, promising ourselves to perform better next time, gossip sessions outside cycle stand for hours after school, punctured tires, ripped seats, wet paper ball games, evening tutorials, preparing time tables one month before exams, re-scheduling time table every day, messed up room, yelling mom, no sense of responsibility, secret crushes, borrowing money from friends to lend another friend, spending more time in canteen/ foot ball ground than in classes yet giving lectures to juniors on importance of attending class, tension before results, declaration of results, comparing marks, promoted to next year, parties, night outs… blah blah blah…. I can go non-stop but that’s not what this post is about.
I have all these memories so clear in my mind that I seem not to have grown beyond 18. I have never thought of myself as a working woman, always considered myself as a kid. I am still the same as I was 6 years back (not including the extra kilos), only with some sense in my, then, empty head; an ounce of responsibility and slight maturity.
I have always known my age but it’s only when those small irritating kids of passengers travelling with you call you “Aunty” that you realize you are no more 18. In 6 days I’ll be 24. Where did time fly, where was I all this while. Is this some kind of time- travel, or was I sleeping while growing old and putting on weight? I guess when they say “a person is as old as he feels” holds true. Can’t believe I am saying this coz when I was 18 and someone said:
“Age is what you feel it to be”, I would say “yeah right!!! Grow up!!!”
When they would say, “That man never grows old who keeps a child in his heart”, I would say, “Cut the crap!!!”
Well! I was naïve back then. And Now:
“Wanna stay young for the rest of my life,
Never say “no”- try everything twice,
Till the angles come, and ask me to fly,
I’m gonna be 18, till I die.”
---- Brian Adams
It’s very difficult for me to grow old coz I have a child alive in me, I have a heart full of love in me. As I grow old I realize that I love those most whom I loved first, my family (that includes Mishti). Age is merely an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. Plus I can’t stop time. Everybody is bound to grow old, but we have an option of staying young.
“We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
---- some wise person
Monday, August 24, 2009
National Concern
I am glad our National animal is a Tiger. It is proud animal, just like we Indians. While I understand, beauty is but skin deep (never really seen a skinned tiger), I would still say tigers are beautiful animals.
Wonder what would have happened if a Pig was our national Animal? Or for that matter a Donkey…or a Mule. Or how about a Mouse? A dog? Or a skunk?
I would not want to live in a country where the National emblem has a Mouse. Would be a big let down for all Indians, except Lord Ganesha, who would love to see his vahanam being patronized.
A Donkey would not make a good sight on our coins and rupee notes. Agreed the merchants in Tamil Nadu display a donkey’s picture in their shops to boost sales (I am not making up this belief), yet, I do not think he would look good on a coin.
Imagine Indian cricketers sporting a skunk on their chest when they enter the field to take on Australia. The Kangaroos would run away. For the uninitiated, skunks are small beings that let out a very stinky substance when challenged and you are doomed for life….well almost …because it will take you a fortnight to get rid of the stink. That is, if you take bath daily in tomato juice.
Everything said and done, am glad our National Animal is not Man. Would have complicated things!
Wonder what would have happened if a Pig was our national Animal? Or for that matter a Donkey…or a Mule. Or how about a Mouse? A dog? Or a skunk?
I would not want to live in a country where the National emblem has a Mouse. Would be a big let down for all Indians, except Lord Ganesha, who would love to see his vahanam being patronized.
A Donkey would not make a good sight on our coins and rupee notes. Agreed the merchants in Tamil Nadu display a donkey’s picture in their shops to boost sales (I am not making up this belief), yet, I do not think he would look good on a coin.
Imagine Indian cricketers sporting a skunk on their chest when they enter the field to take on Australia. The Kangaroos would run away. For the uninitiated, skunks are small beings that let out a very stinky substance when challenged and you are doomed for life….well almost …because it will take you a fortnight to get rid of the stink. That is, if you take bath daily in tomato juice.
Everything said and done, am glad our National Animal is not Man. Would have complicated things!
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