Yes, they made me smile.....

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces.”
― Helen Fielding, Bridget Jones's Diary

Yup, that is true for yours truly as well. Just when things started looking OK in one sphere of my life, the other spheres started unraveling like balls of yarn. When I called my mom yesterday, she told me to focus on the positives and leave the rest to God (Someone told me that my mom is very wise, and I concur). So, this blogpost is an attempt to list down the things that made my life bearable this week...

What follows next is a list of totally boring,random things....read on at your own risk.....

• One of the guys from my team won a bet that he placed on a dog race. Yup, you heard it right. Dog race. Dog races are quite a popular weekend pastime here. Honestly, it isn't something I fancy going to. So last week Dean walked up to me and asked me if I wanted to bet as well. He told me that he was planning to bet on a dog called 'Colourful Mark'. Now, Colourful Mark was a new entrant and had really high odds stacked up against him. The favorite for the game was Speedy J, who seemed to the favorite in my team as well. Inspite of everyone in the team asking him not to bet on Colourful Mark (CM), Dean stuck to his guns and did not change his bet. On Monday, he told me that CM had won, with a told you so look. 'How', I asked him, 'did you know that CM would win?'. 'His name' he smiled cheekily and said 'Colourful Mark sounds gay, doesnt it? I figured that rest of the dogs would rather have a gay dog in front of them then behind them'. It took me some time to understand what he meant, but when I did, I couldn't really argue with his logic :D :D

• I had to get my visa copied and sent to the HR team for some formalities this week. My senior manager checked my date of birth on the passport and said, 'Whoa, you are quite young, aren't you?' He then turned to my manager who was seated behind him and said, 'She is quite a youngster, isnt she?' To which my manager replied, 'Yup, she is my little dynamite' Needless to say, I left with a smile that remained on my face the whole day. :D

• My friend N  was blessed with a baby boy last week. Although its been close to 3 years that we haven't spoken to each other, this news made me smile. She is quite older to me and has been trying for a baby for a few years now. We stopped speaking sometime in 2009, which arguably was one of the worst years of my life. I lost more friends that year, than in all my life combined. Although, there is no way we could ever patch up, the fact that she now has something she so dearly wanted, made me feel really happy for her.

• My sweet blogger friend Sangitha got a promotion that she totally deserved and another thing that has been bothering her for quite a while, is getting resolved as well. Me cant wait to meet you here in London, Sangi baby.

• Yummy cupcakes that S brought at work. He gave me 2 more than everyone else, coz he knows that I have a major sweet tooth.

• Being asked by one of my team members to sign as a witness in her property documents, as she needed someone responsible to sign the documents for her. Hearing my name and responsible in the same sentence made me :D :D

 

• Being told by K that I can't write to save my life, after reading my latest blogpost. Agreed, the stuff that I churn out on Fullon can in no way be called writing, but for someone who does not have any book writing aspirations, this level of writing will have to do. Hai na?

    

That's all for this week, folks. I hope things settle down and I am able to breathe freely again. Till then, I have my lists to keep me company :D :D

The one with the green headphones...

He is a typical angrez cutie pie. Tall, blue eyes, spiked hair and headphones with blaring music. Green headphones. He takes the same train as I do in the mornings. In my initial days, I would stare at him from a distance, knowing that a cutie like him would never notice someone like me. But notice me he did. Noticed the sloppy me spilling coffee on my pink shirt. Noticed the lost me looking for a loo in the train. 

A couple of weeks ago, in my rush to catch an empty window seat, I spilled coffee from a discarded coffee cup on my pretty pink shirt. Although, I religiously avoid public loos, I had no choice but to go splash my shirt with water or face the prospect of spending the whole day with the unsightly stain. Now, yeh UK ke train loos bhi bade funky hote hain. Handle wandle toh hota hi nahi. Try as I may, I couldn't get the door to open.  Mr Green Headphones, who was watching my predicament from a distance, came up to me, pressed a button and the door opened with a whoosh! Having splashed my shirt with water, I came out and tried closing the door but it wouldn’t budge. My knight in shiny headphones came to my rescue once again and closed the door with the flick of another button. I smiled coyly. He flashed a bright grin. 

And we went our separate ways.

But fate had other things in store. 

A couple of days later, I was late for work. Running, I managed to squeeze into the train just as the doors were closing. I got in but my bag did not. I was stuck, main andar, mera bag bahar. Embarrassed, I kept tugging feebly at my bag, but it refused to budge. Phir kya hona tha, in true hindi movie style, Mr Green Headphones came to my rescue yet again. In a display of super human strength, he pulled the doors apart, muscles bulging, shirt fating, bisceps showing. That is how the scene played out in my mind. In reality, he pulled open the doors with help from a baldy uncle with an umbrella and a muscular guy who looked like he spent a lot of his time in the gym. Honestly, I now kinda feel like Mr Headphones was doing pulling ka natak and bechara baldy uncle and muscular gym guy were doing all the mehnat. My bag was rescued in the nick of time and I thanked the trio coyly. Actually, the coy smile was meant for Mr Green Headphones but continuity maintain karne ke liye I gave same to same smile to everyone.

And we went our separate ways.

But fate, obviously, had other things in store. 

I was at the coffee machine at work a couple of days later, blabbering away with my friend T. Coffee cup in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, I was oblivious to the tall and cute guy standing behind me. My phone rang and in my haste to answer it, I dropped my coffee cup. Coffee splashed out and splattered all over the guy's light coloured trousers. Scared, I turned to apologise. And came face to face with, no prizes for guessing, Mr Green Headphones!! While I apologised profusely, he shrugged and walked away. 

As Mr Fate would have it, Mr Green Headphones urf Matt works in my office. In an office full of tall, cute guys, he seems to just blend in. Waise bhi all angrez ladka log look the same to me. If it weren’t for his green headphones, I dont think I could have lusted after recognised him on the train everyday.

He walked up to me at work yesterday. Smiled and sat on the chair next to me. And in cool dude style asked "Do you want to meet up for coffee today."

I smiled coyly, jhukofied my nazrein and answered "I hope the coffee is in a cup and not on your pants this time".

And that is the reason why, yet again, we went our separate ways. :D :D

To Mr Sexy Forearms....

Tumhara yun mujhe chedna, muje yaad rahega,
Every smile I smiled with you, mujhe yaad rahega,
Tum mujhe yaad rakho ya na rakho ae sexy forearms wale,
Tumhare saath bitaya hua harr pal, muje yaad rahega ♥ ♥ ♥

Woh tumhari katilana hassi, the way you looked into my eyes
Woh tumhare deep, deep dimples, the way you touched my arm,
I read between the lines, I overanalysed your words,
I tried, I promise, but I just couldnt resist your charms 

Tere saath parking lot main ghumna, mujhe yaad rahega
Woh tera mere paas chipak ke baithna, mujhe yaad rahega
Tumhare kadamo main toh pade hain sekdo dil, ae dil churane wale,
Lekin hume humara khoya hua dil, humesha yaad rahega 

Chicken Soup for the Dying Blog’s Soul....

3 stories. No connection. Just a small stab at a huge writers block J

Age 8:

Chotu Shanu rushed down the stairs. At a distance she could see all her chintar pintar friends engrossed in a game of Catch and Cook. Screaming, all ran helter skelter trying to avoid getting out. Her little eyes searched for her best friend Anagha. A quick scan revealed that Anagha was standing on top of the water tank looking around at everyone running about. Shanu understood Anagha’s plight. She was stuck on the water tank all by herself and could be caught by the denner any moment now. She needs my help, Shanu realised.

“Tu ghabru nakos, me yete” yelled Shanu and climbed up the water tank. Anagha looked at her with happy eyes, came rushing to her and with one mild stroke touched her hand and shouted “OUT”

Age 12:

Shanu felt pretty as she walked towards the playground. Her new jeans and new shoes shone in the summer sun. Out in the distance, she saw her crush standing with his buddies. 4 years older and several inches taller, he was the best batsman in her school cricket team.

Everyone knew about her crush. A teacher had caught her doodling his name in her Maths book and had shown it to the whole class. News spread like wild fire and now everytime her path crossed his, she heard whispers and snickers.

Today was no different. People snickered and whispered as she walked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his buddies push him towards her. Her heart raced as she saw him approaching. The wind blew his silky hair and he looked absolutely yummilicious.

As he crossed her path, he stopped and looked right into her eyes. And with his beautiful lips whispered ‘I think tera zip khula hai’

Age 16:

Shanu hated kids right from bachpan. They were irritating, cranky and pissed/ shat at the drop of a hat. She avoided holding them till they were potty trained. Potty trained kids were easier to handle and they didn’t wet your clothes every 15 minutes.

Adi was 2 and roly poly. He had gorgeous curls and a beautiful, round dusky face. And most importantly, he was potty trained.

Shanu watched as he played with the toys and sipped milk from his little bottle.

Tired from all the running around and playing, he looked at her with sleepy eyes and smiled. A slight nod and he came rushing to her and sat in her lap. As he ate the mashed bananas she was feeding him, he turned to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her heart melted. No more hating bacchas, she decided. Spotting an unexplored toy, he dashed off to play but not before he adorned her lap with a batch of fresh puke.

Abhi ke liye itna hi….I shall be back soon. With something funny and original. I promise.

I will be back soon :)

I promise :)

A true story - Dimply tales

As a child, I was fascinated with dimples (I still am). My best friend Ekta had the deepest dimples in the whole wide world and the whole school swooned whenever she smiled. When she was chosen to play the little princess in our school play ‘Princess and the frog’, I was convinced that the non existence of dimples stood between me and super stardom.

I spent many a nights sitting in front of the mirror with pencils stuck in my cheeks, hoping that they leave behind dimples. I tried smiling by sucking my cheeks in, I tried poking fingers into my cheeks when smiling, I tried praying to God and asking for dimples but nothing seemed to work.

A trip to my native place revealed that my maternal grandmom had dimples that put Ekta’s dimples to shame. My badi mami too had a faint dimple on her right cheek. How, I wondered, did I manage to skip the dimple gene when everyone around me seemed to be blessed by them? My mom who was pakkaued by my dimple fetish chose to ignore my questions while my granny and mami encouraged me by letting me poke my little finger into their cheeks when they smiled.

It was then that I realised that the dimples were a result of missing teeth. While my granny had no teeth at all, my mami had a wisdom tooth removed, leading to the formation of those gorgeous dimples. That summer I pestered my mom to let me get dental extractions so that I could get a couple of dimples, but my mom just didn’t want a pretty daughter (*sobs*)

Not the one to give up easily, I kept looking for ways that would get me my prized dimples. Hope came in the way of Asha aunty, my mom’s best friend. Asha aunty had an unnatural dimple which was formed when she fell on a pointy rock as a child. Her dimple was different. It didn’t come up when she smiled. It was always there. That was the best, most awesomest dimple ever. That dimple could kick Ekta’s dimple’s butt like a million times.

And I wanted it.

After several unsuccessful attempts at finding a pointy rock, I had a brainwave. Picking up a pair of scissors, I marched into my room and with all the precision my trembling hands could manage, I snipped a tiny cut into my right cheek. The fountain of blood that started pouring out freaked me and I went running back to mom who took me to the doctor. That week was filled with loads of shoutings from the elders and wide eyed stares of respect from my cousins. Inspite of the pain, I slept soundly, proud that I finally had the perfect dimple.

Epilogue: The dimple (or to be really honest, the tiny dent) stayed on my cheek for nearly 2 years before finally fading away. This is my brother’s favourite dinner time story, the one he usually narrates to embarrass me. I, on the other hand, keep praying for some miracle which will get me that coveted dimple.

Call me Sugar!!

It all started with the birth of my oldest cousin K. My mom was barely 15 when K , her first niece, was born. Horrified by the thought of being called Aatye (aunt) at such a tender age, she tutored K to call her Didi. Time passed, K grew up and so did my mom. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, all my cousins born after K referred to mom as Didi.

Living in an age where kids start calling you aunty the minute you start working, I found this Didi business hard to digest.

The last straw came last week when my youngest cousin D, came to visit us. And true to tradition, she called my mom Didi and me Akka (older sister). Her incessant chatter sprinkled with an overdose of Didi brought out the devil residing within me. "If you call my mom Didi, shouldnt I start calling you Maasi?" I asked with a grin. The colour draining out of the tiny face told me that I had struck a chord.

D now calls my mom Aatye and serves as an example for anyone who dares to call my mom and me Didi in the same breath. :P