Thursday, December 29, 2011

2011 - The Blah year end post

So you guessed it, not in a very good mood. I have been reading some wonderful blogs(at Work), and have been aching to write but the moment I open up my blog, the need to write just sprouts wings and flies far far away.

Its the end of December, that means the year is coming to a close too. . .2011 the wonderful year that gave me so many things, the most important being The Lawyer. The person that he is, and what he is to me.

2011 has also been a year of profound realizations, of how to move on and when to let go. It was the year I got tired and decided not to sit back while people (once important) played ping pong with my emotions. I let go, I walked away and believed that I was a better person for it. Now it doesn't matter,random phone calls, drunken messages and old letters chanced upon, they don't matter anymore. Baah, enough already man. You screwed up, I am sure I did too - now, move on.

I hate my job by the way, if it wasn't already evident by me blogging on a Thursday afternoon, I hate it. But I am not gonna do anything about it, I shall crib though.

Thankyou for listening.

Happy New Year.

p.s. I hate it and how!!

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Delhi is covered in a delicious foggy haze since morning and the alarm bells are going off in my head.....Winter is here, Oye winter aa gaya!!

So its my favorite season again, we brought out the razais sometime back, but its not really delhi winter till u layer up and refuse to get out of bed to go to work/school/college.

Can't help but think of college, about a couple of years ago when we layered up attended 2 classes and walked a kilometer for a brunch of piping hot maggi-paranthas-boiled eggs and tea-shots. It did seem like the good life then :)

Ok, dismissing the wave of nostalgia unfit for a monday morning at "Work", I shall conclude by asking Santa to bring me Patience this Christmas. Patience to actually sit down and finish the books I ordered for my Birthday :)

Friday, December 9, 2011

so I am having a world of problems with my mother, lets just say she and I thnk very very differently, we always have but that has not been much of an issue coz we don't let it get in the way of our communication and more so because living under the same roof we ended up agreeing on most things albeit our approaches varied vastly. But this, me moving away and fitting into someone else's home is a whole different ballgame.

The objective me, who stands on the side can tell that this is a mechanism of coping with the void I have left in that house, constantly pick a fight with me, but realistically, the words said and the assumptions made eat at me in the silence of the night.

I am sure I too am wrong here, but I'd be able to identify a problem and think of a solution if it ever stuck to one such thing, its turning out to be a bunch of related (sometimes scattered) issues that crop up from time to time.

Its baffling to me, this and the fact that after spending 12 hours a day outside, I am left wondering where my day went.

Honestly, I am cracking under this and its showing on my face every morning.

As of now, I have no words. No feelings either.

I want a hot cup of tea, a good book and the absence of this guilt that burns a hole in my heart.

Mom, I was born off your heart - don't be so mistaken about me.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Dear Husband,

As someone who's been married for 15 whole days, I can say, no, it doesn't feel very different to me. . . .I guess all that late night talking on the phone for hours from my bathroom really paid off.

I love waking up next to you every morning, contrary to what you claim, you do snore a tad bit, and no it doesn't bother me. I know how tired the day must have made you. Every morning I amuse myself by noticing how you slip to the edge of the bed, out of the quilt - stop doing that please, cause your arms that you lovingly wrap around me would feel lovelier if they weren't ice cold.

You never put the cologne bottle back in its case, never wear slippers and when nagged, absentmindedly leave three pairs of chappals on the bedroom floor, you don't talk till you have brushed, you brush in the dark - - -I love living with you, i love figuring out all this little trivia.

Don't Change,

Be as you have been, My happiness.


Elie Kunjoo

Monday, November 28, 2011

The Married me :)

Ah well, as my husband says. . . . . :)

Mrs.Lawyer I have become.

Here is a rundown of life, from the past couple of weeks - from the married me . . .

- As the wedding approached, I found myself more at peace with myself and with the spouse, amid all the panic and hysteria that the relatives bought, I knew in brief bits of clarity/sanity, why I was doing this.

- The 2 day wedding ceremony brought with it a sense of calm, I felt loved, continually cared for. When I saw him on day 1, I stopped fretting about how I looked and what I wore, I found a reassurance in the man who was marrying me.

- The actually wedding was a blast, a cousin of mine called me the happiest bride. Inside I certainly was. (Still am) :)

- The new house felt like a home in a couple of days, there was no need to look useful and be productive, it felt like my house. Here I could just be.

- The honeymoon wasn't anything as planned, but I wouldn't trade it in for anything, traveled over 2 southern states via bus + train + flight + jeep - no photographs to mark our time there but the memories we made will stay etched in our hearts.

- There were friends who made it to the wedding and whom I loved for coming in. Then there were friends who couldn't come but I love them for wishing me well across the miles.

That's a mini update for now, will come back with more later :)

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Counting Down

Here, one week before the wedding, I find myself down with a cold. Scarf around neck, sniffling in office . . . :(

I go one leave from Thursday hopefully, then I lazy around and watch as everyone goes into panic mode. . .ah well being the bride has its advantages.

I am at the moment rather attached to my Blackberry, and feel immensely tech savvy . . . life has its cheap thrills, kya karein.

Will be back with wedding updates. Till then its 8 Days to go

p.s. -8 Days !!!!

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

WPF applications get compiled in 2 steps, phase 1 is unseen by us, C# compilation takes place here, and since a c# compiler cannot complie XAML, we need a compiler to take care of parsing and compilation of XAML. . . .

that is what I was typing inanely, to get away from the fact that here, 2 weeks before the wedding, I am getting a slight case of cold feet.

Just as I decide I want to run away, The Lawyer calls.

This too shall pass, i know, but while its here, its kicking my ass.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

The day after Diwali, and I am in office alone (mostly). People/teammates aren't back from their Diwali ki chutti yet and that has worked out fabulously for me, these are people I don't like anyways, so to be in the bay, surrounded by 11 empty chairs is a dream. A couple of them shall be back tomorow, but that's far away.

This Diwali also dubbed the last diwali at home, the last diwali as a single person etc etc was good, since I was away in Bangalore last year, this one was even more fun. Did the ususal lighting lamps and eating sweets, convinced the sister to go eco and not do the pataka business. Did get dressed up and all though, clicked some pics et al. Missed Priya, recalled the four years in college that we spent celebrating Diwali together at our place.

The Lawyer is away in Nagpur today, Bunty is getting engaged tomorow :) . . .Over BBM*,I am demanding that he sing a bevy of songs to keep me entertained in office, and I am happy to add that he is obliging.

The wedding is in 20 days. . . .yes, I am freaking out a little now.

We're honeymooning in coffee plantation/estate down south, its a short 2-3 day thing and planned to coincide with visiting Lawyer's grandma in Madras. Its where we had planned to go much earlier had he come to Bangalore. . .

*BlackBerry Messenger - Yup, I am a BlackBerry boy now :)

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Over Coffee

Somewhere in the last year, over numerous shared cups of coffee, in what is the best cafe we knew, Dan and I decided that we were wise souls, the Benjamin Buttons of our age (considering the people we knew).

As we sat back on plush Beige sofas, for hours at end, throwing our heads back, laughing and staring at the halogen lights above, I think we arrived, without much fanfare, at what we consider at 22, our true calling.

We want to open a bookshop, we want to spen 10 hours a day in a couple of rooms lined floor to ceiling with nothing but books, no fancy offers, nothing. We want to open the bookstore that we looked all over Noida/Delhi/Bangalore for, where they wouldn't bother us with the "Best Selling" Danielle Steels or draw our attention to New York Times' #1 Vampire Fiction.

So there, thats our dream, a quaint bookstore, with oh-so charming owners (and very knowledgeable too ) and the scent of freshly printed books.

But to get there, I'm aiming to read 100 books in 2012. I am aiming to finish one of the lists, I am aiming to give all the classics a try. Leaving to Dan all the Greeks and Romans.

p.s. We'll name it Reverie, I think. For now anyways :)

Ruminating. . .

Sitting in office, on a Wednesday afternoon, contemplating a piece of code I must turn in by this evening, my mind inevitably wandered.

I could never marry someone who smokes I decide, the abstract thought came from the nicotine smell my coworker brings back from his "tea break" every two hours or so. Its true, its a smell I can't stand, it becomes much worse when they try to suppress it with a menthol and fail miserably.

I don't know how I tolerated it in college, sharing a rickshaw with AG, asking/telling him not to light up. . Everyday after college as we stood waiting for the bus, he would buy his two standard cigarettes. Everyday I frowned.

"I'm not going to get addicted to it", he claimed to begin with, then that stopped, he couldn't kid himself either.

Every single day for 2 years or so, and now when I try, I can't remember what brand he smoked.

Knowing someone is about the small insignificant details that give us a sense of association or dissociation, does this mean I don't know him anymore?

Oh, well.

p.s. I think it was Marlboro. I know it wasn't Gold Flake - He said that was crap. He also said that smoked a beedi one odd time , I won't get addicted, my ass!!

Monday, October 10, 2011

The Lawyer turns 28 on thursday,
His gift was something I knew he would love, then I got all excited and gave it to him on Sunday, a full 5 days before the birthday!!

He loved it nonetheless :)

To The Lawyer, who likes the finer things in life,
You're the finest thing in mine.

p.s. He loved it so much that next year I'm going to be doing some serious thinking to top this!!

A Marriage

I am five weeks away from the wedding, and the closer I get to it, the more I realise how much it means to those around me, to my parents who prepare to send me away, to Nani who has been diligently gathering up things to send with me and to the sister who wants to soak up every minute she cand find with me.

November 16 is the wedding, but the marriage, thats already in place.

A marriage that brings with it companionship, a sense of belonging, a couple of petty fights, a lot of love, a smidgen of dependency, a mutual growing-up and a lot of hope.

The future we want, the past we accept and the present we cherish are already agreed upon and understood, We decided to love each other along the way.

After November 16, We get the gift of time, we get to wake up each other, the arguments that we have can be had in person now, we can feel the love around us when we sit by, content (me reading a book, you working).

The wedding is approaching, but the marriage,
thats already in place.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

on change. .

Change. . .is inevitable. nothing can change that, it is really something isn't it.

If I were to count to the different ways in which my life has changed in the past year alone, I would get lost in the vast topography of it, because the little changes have all been myriad and many hued.

all good, nonetheless.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

So cards have been printed!. . .atleast the traditional ones, yes the ones that are entirely in Tamil and the ones that I cannot read , but the ones that affirm that yes inch by inch I am getting closer to the wedding !

The reception cards shall get printed sometime in September when I shall be at hand in Delhi to fuss over the envelope colors and font sizes, atleast I'll be able to read those.

For now, I shall go to Delhi, take the card, find The Lawyer, settle down in a corner with a cup of coffee and have him read it to me/explain it to me. . .then he'll need that coffee more than me I'm pretty sure :)

p.s. Haven't gymmed for 3 days, looking for a new excuse to bunk it today too. . . alas the guilt *might* just take over.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Moving base . . .again. .

So I am moving base, returning home. . to Delhi I mean, its rather strange that even as I type the word home, the only image that flashes in my mind is the place where I live at the moment, sharing my room with 3 girls, for the past year. I lived in Delhi for 21 years before this and for all practical purposes that was home, and I loved Delhi with all my heart, I still do. . . but Bangalore, That PG, those roomates, they gave me a real sense of self, a realization of the person I am. All that I am capable of, and all that I can survive on. Bangalore gave me an education, it was more than an experience, now that I return to Delhi, in 2 weeks that is, I am in the know, a deep sense of security rests within, a security that comes not from the thought of marriage, or family or a home. . but a secure feeling that I created for myself, my own coocoon.

So yes this past year was the year of crying myself to sleep a few nights with severe bouts of homesickness, waking up regardless and going to work, looking forward to weekends like ur life depended on it, hating a roomates quirks and admiring some others, waiting for ur turn to take a bath and washing ur own clothes, cooking dinners on sunday nights, making sure maggi was a food group, having cornflakes and chocos as dessert, cursing the PG owners on any power cut/water shortage, bunking the gym for what was really important - the roomie's heartache, being ridiculed for not drinking in a room full of vodka-downers (and still holding ur own), of living on weekend to weekend Sales and of random hugs. . .

It was also the year I lived my life, free of anyone else, being my own person, answerable foremost to myself. I can have lunch alone now, watch a movie alone, have a conversation with myself and value my own opinion. I grew Up.

I'll miss Bangalore, but new things await in Delhi, that I'm hoping will bring as much happiness as Bangalore.

p.s.- People asking me if "I'm going to quit my job" or wether my husband is "going to let me work", annoys me to no end. My parents spent a respectable sum in educating me, in putting me through school first and then college they must have neglected more than a couple of their own whims and fancies, then is it not, to say the least, stupid, to think that they'd chose to marry me "off" to someone who would want to me to stay home and waste that education ?

And when you marry someone, yes you decide to share your life with this person and value his opinion; but to work, to earn is your decision, He can give his two bits on it, but in the end it is your call. . .at what point does it stop being your life?

Imagine this, if I woke up one fine morning and "decided" that I do not want him to work, that would be absurd I am sure, then in the same vein, is it not absurd if someone decides today onwards I shouldn't work ? Its not so much a question of competition, or self respect even, but of plain logic.

If we are still in the age where an arranged marriage compels you to hand over your life to a set of people and have them make your decisions, then someone should've warned me earlier, I would have gladly taken up home science as a major and not wasted my 4 years earning an engineering degree. Atleast then I would be adept in sowing buttons.

So please, I understand your concerns, but dont mock my intelligence, nor that of my parents or future husband's, with your worries. I will work after I get married, and My husband more than me won't have it any other way.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The unknown errors of our lives

The hustle and bustle you associate with a wedding was in place, it was utter chaos, I sat there with my mehendi drying off, friends were reminiscing about forgotten school days, aunts were fretting over tiny details, kids ran unabashed, the house which I was to leave in a couple of hours, already looked a little far away and alien, with its rows of lights and decorations.

I was halfway between a guffaw when Ma spotted me from across the room, She caught my eye and held it. She came over to me and looked deeply at me, and said, "My darling for you, I wish all the happiness. I wish. . . ." when someone took her away. I first assumed she was just overcome with emotion, after all she was parting with her daughter, the tiny baby she held in her arms, seemingly not too long ago, was leaving to live someone else's life. But it was the expression on her face that made me take notice, I wanted to go to her and ask her to finish, I wanted to know what that incomplete sentiment in her eyes was. But soon she disappeared and I too got carried away.


I finished getting dressed, the mirror shows me a woman who can't keep the smile off her face, the various bits of diamonds are smiling with me, honestly I can't wait. They say in excited vices that they just saw the groom, that he's oh-so-handsome. . .I wink at one of them, i know it means.


With three tiny knots we're married, tied to each other for life. They put toe rings on me and we walked around the fire, in seven steps I went from being someone's little girl to being someone's wife, to someone's house. No. My house.

I said my goodbye's. Some people cried, some offered advice, some joked good naturedly, I got into the car and felt a tinge of sadness and some premature homesickness.

I peered out the window and saw Ma, she was talking to someone, she looked happy, She had worn a Yellow saree, It looked lovely on her, as the color always did. Ma had a penchant for yellow sarees, she had countless ones not very different from this one, the colour was her, bubbly and vibrant. Today as I saw her in it, some old memory of her in a similar saree came back to me, strangely so.


I had been 5 or 6, Ma stood in front of the mirror, put on a red bindi and her eyes glinted, she looked radiant, I was in awe. She was happy we were going out, She was a beautiful woman, I thought then too.

Then Dad walked in, he was angry about something, she followed him into the room and there was some yelling, but I couldn't make out the words. Then I heard the sound of something being thrown, it was the TV remote. I felt scared. The commotion died down, and Ma walked out of the room. Her eyes, so happy a while ago, welling up with tears,She would have taken the moment to let it out i think, had she not seen me standing there. She carefully wiped the corner of her eyes , and bend down to fix my pig tails. She smiled her smile at me and took me by the had. We waited for dad and went to the party. She smiling her smile, being charming all evening, no one could ever tell otherwise. Not even her.


The look in her eyes today, the same smile, her waving hand as the car sped off, as I turned to sit comfortably, not being able to see her anymore, tears welled up in my eyes, I knew what Ma wished for me.


Thursday, July 7, 2011

to the husband (to be . . .)

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.

I am the eternal nag, I constantly berate the Lawyer for not saying things, not being as vocal as I am and so on, for it all, I sometimes get a patient hearing and a calm explanation, at other times I hear a "hmm" which drives me a little mad.

But then, once in a while, He says something with such sincerity, that it knocks it me off my feet. Today, it was a message, a long one, and knowing that he thinks any kind of messaging is an effort, I checked twice to make sure it was him.

Having not spoken much last night, This morning as I was starting my day work, his message came.

As I sat there re-reading that message, a feeling of awe passed over me . . . then it gave way to a contentment, the kind I feel in his arms. and then an unabashed feeling of security.

"Thankyou my Darling, I want to wake up every morning to you, for life. . .saying I Love You doesnt seem enough"

Saturday, May 14, 2011

"This is love, she thought, isn't it? When you notice someone's absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence?"

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Halfway There

So I have come back from Delhi , having tied my heart to The Lawyer, now I sit at my desk missing him a bit, for this time last week, I was with him, in the car being driven to the airport, giggling as I saw him attempt to change the gears as the gear changing hand held on to mine . . .

Honestly, I was surprised at my cheeriness when I hugged (and quickly kissed) him goodbye and walked away towards the gate, I expected to feel a twinge of sadness, the pain of being apart or some such, but it dawned on me later that the prospect of returning to him, permanently, overshadowed any temporary ache.

So I went to Delhi, to face the reality of what I'd built over the past month, and returned with an assurance. . .Now my solitude here in Bangalore is assured, not insecure - aware.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Making Music. .

Each afternoon he calls at 3, returning home from court,in a tired voice that perks up when she picks up,

she never says hello, picking up she whispers a reassuring "hmmm?" instead,

"hmmm. . " he says in return and fills her in about his day, enquiring about hers,

she's about to say "and . . . " when the line gets disconnected, she smiles absentmindedly and thinks "Taj Man Singh*!"

the phone rings again, she picks up, "Taj Man Singh ! !" he says.

To her, their actions were a symphony, a falling into, an accord - but mostly it was what they spoke-that they spoke . . .half laughed words, unfinished sentences,cozy rhetoric.

In Neruda's words. .

"I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."

* The Hotel Taj Man Singh In Delhi, which he passes by on his way, where he first dialed her number, where the telephone signal is inevitably lost. . .

Sunday, April 17, 2011


So you realise next week this time, I shall be Engaged . . .yes now I am panicking, freaking out, thinking of running in the opposite direction. A little nephew of his yesterday referred to me as maami!. . me!!

I am too young to be a maami I thought, and that man offered no assurance either, when told he merely informed me that several 30 yr old men shall be referring to me as Bhabhi. . Dude! I need to sit down, someone get me a Mojito, someone get me a tissue, someone get me Priya!! (yes, this is me hyperventilating. .)

I am heading home on Thursday, that is, in 3 days... I had a rosy plan wherein I would have landed in Delhi on a not-so-hot Thursday morning and would have been greeted with a warm hug from a Lawyer whose face would break into the most charming smile when he saw me walk out of the arrivals terminal. . .

But fate walked in and said, scratch that!. . new plan - Beti, call the excited lawyer and tell him that your father has decided to shower his love and affection on you, starting the day u step foot on Delhi soil and now your father shall pick you up!. . .

That implies, chances are that I meet him now when I turn up to get engaged, at the hall that can hold 250,in the blue Saree. . . I mean, seriously!





So, God, this is me, sincerely praying, please make my dad change his mind, please please please, coz I went shopping on Friday and I intend to step out of airport in carefully picked out clothes (and blow dried hair) looking effortless and charming. . .please God please. . :)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


1. I categorically hate people referring to photographs as Snaps. I do.

2. Speaking of words i disapprove of, I have a list of such words, which when used make me wince, The lawyer knows of these since i promised him that list after we first spoke. these include - Chill, jijaji and tasty.

Charcha mein.....

Let me just quickly update you on what's happening then, Yesterday I was being pestered for marriage, being shown prospective grooms from North America when an unsuspecting Lawyer from Delhi made his way to the top of that pile, So I met him and decided that his wife I shall be.

Today, a month later, I'm getting engaged...or should it be We're getting engaged (Oh, god!), yes in precisely 12 days, at 3.00 pm on a hot Delhi afternoon, Our parents shall proclaim to the world, hello ji, our daughter na ji, is marrying their son ji.

And We shall sit there, embarrassed by their antics and those of relatives flying in from the Madras. As the month wore on, Wherein I was busy falling in love with the Lawyer (and vice versa) our respective parents were cooking up what is the prequel to our Big fat Indian wedding. . . So out went our plans for a private ceremony, at home maybe, with say 10 people or so... out went intimate gathering and friendly banter. And in came, the venue (that can house 250!!), a photographer (who will make 2 Albums, dontuworryMadam!!), the caterer (3 course? tiffin items?) and yes the guestlist(s). trust me, fortunately I have learnt early on that as the bride (dude!!), all i have to do is show up, look demure and smile ( the last one being my only option as 50% of the guests are southies). That is all, thats my job.

I feel bad for the Lawyer stuck over there sometimes, caught between teri mummy and meri mummy, being harrased for approval on saree colours and engagement venues, hmph! but not like he isnt having fun..... him being the major contributor to the said guestlist, where I have stuck to the original plan and invited only 5 friends, Sir has gone ahead and invited, in his words, the mossst essential people...this number certainly exceeds mine by 20-25 and includes pets and tenants of the said essential people!! . . .ab bhugto!

My mother has turned Mom-zilla and her mother has taken on a steadfast efficiency that would put the Japanese to shame (touchwood, go nani go!!) . . . . yes so coming back to my mom, she wants crazy things from garlands to bridal portfoli things taken, She's called a mehendi wali home and there shall be no less than 20 relative sthere when I land up on the 21st I am sure... as long the woman is happy!

the saree is blue in colour, proudly picked out by Pa in Law to be, the Lawyer has nodded his approval (blue being his fav color) and I sincerely hope it looks good. . .

now the more important debates have begun, of blouse fittings and matching bangles and the exact shade of petticoat!!. . . topics on which my input is neither invited nor considered, I am after all only the Bride . . .

Danish and I have made as much fun of the whole scenario as can be made, but still we shall find more jokes to make, it keeps me busy while everyone else runs helter skelter.

My father has taken on a nostalgic-reminiscing look and is going about his business, yelling at people no doubt, now when he meets me, I think it shall hit me then , what's been on his mind constantly, that I'll be calling someone else's home mine, how strange and unimaginable to refer to someone else's parents as ma and pa in addition to your own.

Anywhooo, When I get home, I'm going to count the number of times I hear the words, oh how you have grown, you were soooooooo little; remember, mama and I used to take u out for Arun ice cream when you visited Madras ? (No, aunty sorry, i dont, I supress all madrasi memories possible as soon as i get back, but i m sure we went..... :) )

and hopefully I shall meet the Lawyer, see the new car. . . also I have been forbidden to enter his house before the wedding :P . . . If I can slip away from the watchful eyes of adoring relatives, I shall go.

I have been ordered , by mom, to not lose any weight :D. . . I mean, seriously!? And the Lawyer has seconded the same, hello?, are we all talking abt the same person here? Stop loving me so much!!

So. Hum dilli ja raha hoon. Ghar - to my family and now to his. to My Lawyer :)



P.s. To Danish , who was here last weekend, Dude!! come back!!

P.P.S. - pics I shall post!! soooon!

Sunday, April 10, 2011

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

ladka heera hai . . . . .

so I might as well come clean, it has been 23 days since I first laid eyes on That lawyer, since I gave my consent for the marraige, since I moped around about him neither taking my number nor bothering to make any other sort of contact for the next 4 days.

So it was on a thursday I decided stubbornly, let him not call, let him not make contact - i am pissed and I aint calling! I was cursing in my head, when my phone ran and I almost dropped it cause the display blinked "the lawyer", i picked up but there was no network ( damn u docomo) and he never called back, I shot a message "U called?". . . to which the man said "was trying to " infuriating me further, Hmph! I decided, shaadi sirf meri thodi hai!!

A couple of sporadic messages later, the man actually maro-ed a line, I couldn't help but smile, but no, nothing doing, this isnt gonna be so easy, hot shot Lawyer ho toh kya hua! And then he vanished again, returning 2 hours later with a sad "sorry got some studying to do, gnite" , I gritted my teeth and said to myself, I aint calling this one. . .and considered calling my mom the next day.

but friday came and so did a spate of messages,that made me put off calling my mother. . .Lets try this again then, i said to myself, but bhaag gaya phir se, leaving a paltry little "will call u" behind. . . huh! see if I care. i went about my usual business, finished work, got home, skipped the gym. Was engrossed in the vast topography of A Suitable Boy when my phone rang, hmmm, i thought, chalo dekhten hain..... So I picked up and said Hello in a practiced voice, think silvery but not too much. . . .and he says, "U're back from the gym?!", well in all honestly, that perked up my mood - So atleast it was going to be an interesting conversation. And that was at 8, at 9 o'clock when I hung up I decided I'm marrying him.

the conversation was easy, he's chatty obviously ,sometimes irreverent, says things that I wouldnt imagine saying mostly. . . I called him "kutte" and he laughed, a delighted uninhibhited laugh that made me smile. and there after in each conversation i called him kutte, and he laughed. his attempts at humour left me in splits, we were both nervous but we didnt try too hard, somewhere we didnt feel the need to. And that night when he called back, and we talked - after hanging up 3 hours later, we realised we had found in one another something beyond a spouse - we'd found in each other a friend.

I called up Priya, and told her right away, you know in the movies people see someone across a room and remark to a friend "i am going to marry him" - but I really AM going to marry him!

So we talked, about things, everything really, the parents, about how he never really wanted to get married now, about how I hated him for not calling, about his lawyer work, about my newfound IT-ness.

So we quietly found a place in each other's lives, settled in and found our own language.

He thinks my Tamil is the most amusing thing ever (well I can't really argue that one You know).

And somewhere between the mock fights and lack of mush, we found for our life - a partner. I fell in love with him, and not just because I am marrying him. Thankfully now, I am marrying him Because I love him.



P.S. -After all You've got to marry the man who raises an eyebrow at your watermelon lunch (and gymming) and says "i am calling it off if something happens to those chubby cheeks!!". . . :)

P.P.S - also he sings when I insist.

P.P.P.S. - Let's just call him H :)

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Rumi.. .

I have phrases and whole pages memorized,
but nothing can be told of love.
You must wait until you and I
are living together.
In the conversation we'll have patient...then.

of the new. . .

There are two different kinds, I believe, of human attraction:
One which simply disturbs, unsettles, and makes you uneasy,
And another that poises, retains, and fixes and holds you.
I have no doubt, for myself, in giving my voice for the latter.
I do not wish to be moved, but growing where I was growing,
There more truly to grow, to live where as yet I had languished.
I do not like being moved: for the will is excited; and action
Is a most dangerous thing; I tremble for something factitious,
Some malpractice of heart and illegitimate process;
We are so prone to these things, with our terrible notions of duty.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Somewhere over the rainbow. . . .

In my future, there are :

Blue bedroom walls

bean bags







curd rice

a new car ( sea gray)

blank messages

intertwined dreams

petty fights

starry nights


A loving Lawyer

Friday, March 11, 2011

When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there’d be room for him to stay.

So The lawyer called last night.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011


Krishna nee Begane, baaro. . . .
begane baaro, mukhavanne toro. . .

Monday, March 7, 2011

maa main aa gaya.....

So I was in Delhi, for what was a hurried vacation, and I'm telling you delhi truly bring out the drama in me... more than the usual. . . I mean the moment I descend from the flight, and set foot on delhi soil (the airport that is), I do a dramatic breathe in the air, its a "meri mitti-di-khushboo" moment right there on the tarmac, amongst the harassed passengers . . . cut to getting out of the airport and hailing an auto, I'm telling you the feeling of seeing the auto wallah's face when u say "bhaiyya meter se chalo" is pricless, he makes me feel like my sense of humour is rib tickling!. . . so u get in, and plug in ur head phones to listen to some bolly-punjabi song, and settle down comfortably in ur Delhiness as century old forts and spanking new flyovers lazily look on.
So then I got home, to be greeted by the sister and lots of hot home cooked food, and then began the discussions. Oh, I didnt mention, I went to dekho a ladka nani had found, Mr.Lawyer was arriving on Sunday morning, family in tow - let the judging begin.
I promptly decided I was going to wear a suit, no saree baba, simple and best. Went shopping to Lajpat, bought kurta, new bag and shoes :). . . .but when nani saw me in suit she decided that i looked too young and wardrobe changed back to saree, me? i was too engrossed with my shoes to notice or bother.
In short, I met The Lawyer, and I was nervous, but my nervousness vanished when i looked up to see he was equally nervous, if not more. I'll tell you what I think of him another time.
Till then, Thats right folks, I'm getting married.
p.s. The Obtuseness of Intelligent men, is half of what makes them lovable - aage dekhte hain.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Of 2 books and other things.

hello ji . . . .

I have realised that random Hindi songs from the 80's do liven up a boring work day. they do, they do.
So, life has been going on, nothing much to add since the last post, the matrimonying is continuing though. . . now I wonder if I am to meet Mr.Doctor/Lawyer/NRI person, what is it that I ask in those ten minutes that will assist me in deciding my entire future .

So having caught up on my reading a bit, I managed to get a hold of 2 great books over the past 2-3 months and they've had me engrossed completely.

Palace Of Illusions - Chitra Bannerjee Divakaruni
Its Draupadi's narrative of the Mahabharata, but the cover will tell u that much, what lies inside this book is a woman's perspective through and through. Now, feminist as I am (mostly), I don't mean it in the "bechaari aurat fashion" but to point out the fact that Draupadi is portrayed wonderfully, she isnt a cardboard character, she isnt a woman who stood by while people fought over her, because of her. Bannerjee brings her Draupadi to life, while engaging her readers in the timeless epic tale, so often forgotten, The Mahabharata.
Draupadi here, wonderfully flawed, as real a woman as any other, bringing across the point beautifully that what makes u give her another thought is more than her illustrious marriage to Five men. That is merely a beginning. Her attraction towards Karna, however inappropriate, plays a pivotal role in making u understand her perspective, of how torn she must have felt sometimes.
For me, however, the high point of the novel was her relationship with Krishna, fluctuating between a guide and a confidante, Krishna moves seamlessly through Draupadi's life, patiently listening and directing. United by their dark skinned outcastness, In Krishna , Panchali finds a relationship so filled with love, a simpler kind of love,that it lets her be at peace with herself sometimes. In their togetherness, she is christened Krishnaa - His equal, a status far favourable than being Rukmini, the wife; Radha, the divine lover or Meera, the devotee.

The Last Song of Dusk - Siddharth dhanvant Sanghvi

I picked this one up from Blossom's bookstore in October, intrigued by the cover and giving in to my love for Indian authors. That was a Friday evening I recall, and I casually opened the book up in the auto returning home, and couldn't put it down.I just couldn't. So the weekend saw me curled into a ball, book in hand, brow creased, feverishly reading at a pace my Nani would have ideally wanted to be associated with class 12 boards or the JEE.
And on Sunday, voila!, I returned to normal life, though I had left my heart somewhere in the book, between Sanghvi's wonderfully etched out characters, the frangipani braids, the violins, its magic realism and the recurring heartbreak.
The heart I learned can be broken a thousand ways, a thousand times. But that for another post.

Sanghvi's novel starts with Anuradha, a fabled beauty and as someone says, "when Anuradha sings, even the moon steps out to listen". Anuradha's beauty is and can be described a hundred ways, but in the course of the book her loveliness lies in her wonderful simplicity, the simplicity of her thought, her straightforward innocence.

Two pages into the book, Anuradha is to meet Vardhmaan, to marry the man she's never met.

A relatively simple setting,you'll think, but Sanghvi truly is a master of words, he doesn't need a twist or a turn to make u take notice. Words are his forte, more than the subject, he effortlessly (seemingly) turns a description into such poetry, bringing to the scene an almost Neruda like touch and go feeling.

You know you meet someone, and u take an instant liking to him, but as much as u wrack ur brain you cant point out what it is? Sanghvi brilliantly, simply brings to light what it is that causes the attraction between his couple, there his magic lies. you step back and take in the pure bliss of Anuradha beginning to like Vardhmaan, somewhere between their awkwardness and his story telling. Oh, how wonderful it is, to be absorbed into the folds of some one's life.
And that is how Anuradha fell in love with her Storyteller, and I with Sanghvi's writing, whose poetry inspires.

Other characters feature prominently in the tale, the eccentric Nandini, the sweet Pallavi, Edward - The forlorn English lover, who died not waiting for love, but merely waiting to give it, and most astonishingly Dariya Mahal, the house that carries forward a vengeance with an undermined elegance of a slithering snake.

There are so many shades of love, Sanghvi paints each one with a brilliance, the blush of the first meeting, the realisation that his wife brings to his life a feminine scent of roses, the orange of her blooming heart when he returns to her each evening, the mad purple of his dancing when she announces the child's impending arrival, the heavy blue of leaving the heart that loves you without pretension behind, the vast crimson of a young lover flinging into the night the little blue box that contained his promise to her , the undying black of holding your dead child.

Much after you have finished the book, you will find that you left a part of yourself on the chaise, in the half-moon balcony, next to the single black rose, where a White man died awaiting his lover, holding on to his promise.

So there, that has been added to the shelf, next to Mr.Seth now Mr.Sanghvi sits. Sadly Sanghvi, it seems, lasted for all of one book, his next attempt, The lost flamingos of Bombay, from what I read has not lived upto its illustrious predecessor.
In an attempt to further my foray in to magic realism, I have now started Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie, and nope, so far not good ! This shall go the Ayn Rand way, I predict!

I cannot hate Bengalis for no reason, it dawned on me recently, due to the fact that I have a wonderful roommate who's a bong and I am now reading this regularly, so I am a convert. I do apologise for unleashing on all Bongs the anger that a few bad encounters caused. to make up, Ami Bangla shikchchi, but that is all i know yet cause Ami Bangla bolte paari na completely :)

so long then.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

hum se aayaa naa gayaa,
tum se bulaayaa naa

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

starts well though. . . .

So I am in the middle of the week, amidst all this Matrimony-ing at home, a matter on which my thoughts are still not defined too well, which is certainly unlike me since planning endlessly is my middle name,Thats when I read this :

"It may not happen in the first instant, but within ten minutes of meeting a man, a woman has a clear idea of who he is, or at least who he might be for her, and her heart of hearts has already told her whether or not she’s going to fall in love with him."

yes. completely.


Dear prospective groom,

I don't know what you shall think of me, or what direction my photos might take you, but I wish to come clean, if you are even considering marrying me, you should know : -

I am intellectual, I read and was titled Miss Sophisticated in college BUT I love hindi songs, even the item numbers. jhintak hindi numbers bring back the girl who danced unhibitedly in Tantra for hours. . . I break into song and dance when in one of my moods.
Also I love Winters/Mountains/Monsoons so please dont mind when I am not sympathetic to going to Goa for the Honeymoon. Beach + Sand + Sun = Not me.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

This is my nani living Vicariously through me. . . She has lined up a doctor, a lawyer and bevy of techies in the US who must be scrutinised !

Friday, February 11, 2011

nouveau. . .

Its 4.15 pm, I sit in the office drumming my fingernails on the table, waiting for Tanu to return, earphones are plugged in and Kishore Kumar is crooning, it is surprising how easy this new place has been to adapt to (touchwood) :)

Well it is my 19th day in this new project, oh yes, I have been moping around on the blog that I forgot to mention, I now work for Bank Of New York. Its a small team, some interesting people. Some days its infintely boring, I show up to work at 8 and wait for the clock to strike 6, but then there are the days where times passes swiftly, punctuated here and there by laughter or a cup of tea.

For these days I am glad that tanu is here, you see she wa sin my training batch, sweet genuine girl and quite fun to be around. She, unlike me, never mopes!

i meet up with neha for lunch usually, hanging out with Neha reminds me of the days back in college when i resented her, She was Priya's roommate and my contender in title of best friend and hence hatred brewed as we vied for the prize - Priya. . .but now, that Priya is so far away, 11,127 kms away , we both miss her - we realise that we get along quite well . Sigh, Life.

At home, they are actively Matrimony-ing, as i like to call it. My nani is convinced that there are no more eligible Iyer boys left in the USA and wants to marry me off to a California Wasi. Uh well, though i have no set thoughts on this matter, there are days when i sit back and just enjoy the show.

Ah well all that in delhi =2077 kms away, I however, in faraway bangalore am trying to live a normal life, dining on Sizzlers in Kobe, reading Palace Of Illusions, catching the odd movie, skipping the gym to have heartfelt conversations with roommates, waiting for the weekends and sleeping for the most part.

and with that, its 4.40 p.m., I am now 1 hour away from weekend-ing! Must make new shopping list, must cry over finances on monday . . . . ciao :)

Thursday, February 10, 2011


"I'm going to think of him as having gone fishing..
because if I think I will never hear his voice again,
I won't know how to live."

As I said, Aimless.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Jo mujhe raah dikhaye
wohi tara na raha

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Dust gathers on the books we once read, over and over,
Life must be like that. Time is a funny thing.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Now for some Yeats

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face. . .

The tearability and Breakability of people

Some nights I watch the patterns the rain leaves on the cobblestone path, under my bedroom window. Leaves and stones and dragons surface. Part of me believes that one day, walking on your road,wherever you are, you too might see the same motif of water on stone, and briefly we will stand in a togetherness of our own construction.Unfettered by time and distance and fact.How odd are the ways the heart finds its intimacy.

I wish you infinite happiness and pray that your life finds its discrening audience, its reasonable critics.

Underneath the ounce of regret, the guilt and the grief, there is a clearing I know for you. A place to come to after everything, when you need nothing at all and everything too.I leave you now, hoping that you'll find faith in the morning and compassion at dusk.

Monday, January 3, 2011

But it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next.