Flaming STRIPES -02

We were off to the National Park on the bumpy road. It was chilly, even my climate cheater was not helping but i was ignoring the cold and hunger pangs for what was ahead. This time after the series of procedures we were off to a different zone Zone four. Ranthambore is divided into five zones; Zones are assigned randomly and so are the guides.There are high chances that u can get the same zone more than once so blame it on your luck. Well we were excited to get into this zone particularly as there had been many easy spottings in this zone.

As we entered the zone it was very different from the previous one it was hard to believe that they were both parts of same jungle; there were vast bodies of water and golden colored grass patches it was beautiful. Also the morning light was spelling its magic. Also our guide was quite optimistic and he kept saying " lets not stop to click wild boars and peacocks; lets go for the tiger!" I had a good feeling instantly! Terrain was much smoother than the back breaking one in zone one. I was admiring the landscape views and copying it in my head so that i remember to click them on my way back as my hands were too cold to even hold my camera.

After a while we saw two canters holding up the way and the guide started to whisper "they are waiting for something" It was exciting we huddled with them and the guide on other vehicle said "Machli is lying down in the bush". I went like wow Machli!! the most photographed and oldest tigress that would be legendary to watch her. we were waiting with baited breath any movement, any noise, any rustle all eyes would dart in that direction, necks would crank. No one was in there seats anymore i was perched precariously on the side bar of the canter to just get a better view. It was so exciting we were in the middle of this huge jungle just couple of meters away from a napping tiger. Then we heard some footsteps and i turned about and looked down; no no it was not a tiger but a forest officer called Nepalji who was leisurely walking along the well trodden path. He shoted out "O Bhai Ganesh kiska intezaar kar rahe ho?? " our guide told him that Machli just went behind the bush and is sitting there. Nepalji gave out a whistle and said "Bhai log aage jao ab woh nahin uthegi" in his haryanvi or rajasthani accent it was hard to place it; he was confident Machali would take at least an hour to come out as it was her siesta time.

We took off again disappointed, five minutes on the road ahead a gypsy was on its way back they stopped and said that they spotted a tiger ahead. Our driver put his feet to the floor; after few minutes we saw a fork in the road, our driver and guide were contemplating which side to go when another canter came from left and the guide shouted that T -17 has crossed over from zone three to this zone. With their superior sense of the jungle our guide told the driver to swerve the canter to the right. Suddenly the terrain had changed there were trees and treachrous road like zone one; few minutes on the road the canter before us braked our driver braked too and i glanced to the left. I could see the stripes in the trees i knew it was there. I couldnt believe i was seeing a tiger. It was walking straight and i was trying hard not to blink or else i will miss it ; But then it digressed and came right out of the bush like right out walking towards our canter i was on the very same side. The very air was charged adrenaline running high, hearts were beating fast and loud and for some had momentarily stopped beating, my friend had to be gagged so that she could stop shrieking with excitement and drive the tiger away. It was a two year old tigress, one of the few collared tigers in the jungle. She walked with such grace she held all of our eyes. She leisurely walked onto the the road and started walking ahead of us.I did not know should i click or take it all in; i did not want to miss even a single nano second of this.

It is the most magnificient creature i have ever seen and i was instantly in love; It just crossed my mind that if there was one species we can save, tigers should be it; what a shame it would be to let them pass in the oblivion and in the world of legends, stories and coffee table books.

T -17 walked as if she owned the place and we were just there, she had every human soul in the vicinity tied to her at that moment. She was not at all perturbed by the presence of the monster like vehicles and helpless creatures on top of it. Our guide started reversing when all of us piled on to him telling him to follow her like the other canter did, but he said No point blankly and told us that "aapne tiger dekh liya na ab usse pareshaan na kijiye" as soon as i heard his concern for T -17 i kept quite and agreed we did not have to act like the paparazzi.

I was dazed i couldnt get over the fact i saw a tiger in wild those few minutes are finely etched in my memory with all the intricate details.

We were smiling all the way back; i saw baby crocs, clicked landscapes but my mind kept going back to T -17.

It was a one of those memorable first times; back in the room we three kept talking about the experience and what was going on in our minds. Well we were lucky to spot one tiger but not super lucky to spot one in our next safari but no regrets and complains as we had seen a tiger in the wild.

It is not just about the tiger we have seen them in zoos, on Nat Geo and discovery but to see them in their realm, in their element is an experience worth having at least once in a life time. But i ain't stopping at this i am insatiable now i am already planning my next tiger safari.

Flaming STRIPES - 01

I struck off one from my bucket list "Spotting a tiger in the wild". I had read lot of people describing the tryst with this magnificent and enchanting creature; but experiencing it in life was very surreal almost movie like. So let me tell you the story of T 17 my first tiger.

I took a train to Sawai Madhopur with two of my great friends; days of meticulous planning and complex coordination had gone into making this possible, we were finally off to the much awaited trip. My chat history is a digital evidence that how much pressure was Ranthambore forest under to match up to our high expectations.

We reached Sawai Madhopur station right on time after being ditched by our appointed pick up; we reached our abode lugged in a garishly decked up auto rickshaw. As soon we touched base it was time for our first safari; we rushed through our lunch and just jumped into the open air canter. Canter is a mini topless truck with some ten uncomfortable seats on both sides of an aisle. The most coveted seats are generally taken by first pick ups. Ok so after picking others we were at the entrance of Ranthambore National Park. The security was well deserved after all we were standing just outside the home grounds of one of the sort after and so called protected species.

After a round of form filling, identification and attendance one of each we entered the park. The sun was on its way down and was gleaming in our eyes but once we got on the road to the innards of the forest the trees had cut the heat off and there was a sudden change in the weather and the noise levels. there was a rock fortress just at the entrance and was flanked by a water tank with a board saying dont swim and a crocodiles' picture was painted. Now the very knowledge that there were crocs a few feet away resting in the lair was exciting. As we had just entered 'zone one' we could see the rising rock face staring down at us. Our guide was telling us how many predators like leopards and hyenas being shy in nature keep to the hills .My adrenaline was beginning to pump when our guide said " look there a Marsh Crocodile" i was so excited! my first crocodile in its natural habitat, it was many feet away but i could see the grainy grey textured skin on the muddy side of a pond. I was still taking it in when we moved on.

We photographed deers, antelopes, neel gai, a dead snake and other not so dangerous creatures and only easily seen ones.

I was hallucinating stripes in every "Tiger must come here" kind of spot it dawned upon me what exactly happens to travelers in a desert. Though this first safari was disappointing for many fellow canterers as we did not spot any Big Cat but for me, i was still reeling under the excitement of being in a real jungle.

This was few of those nights when i was waiting for sun to rise before time. Our next safari was at six in the morning; it was chilly and thanks to my friend's references i was in woolies and prepared or so i thought. This time we were better prepared for the safari we were waiting for our canter much in advance to get coveted spots and had remembered to bring along water. - cont

Thank You Life and Your Strange ways!

So when I heard Steve Jobs saying that "You will be able to join the dots in the end!" the cynicism in me kicked in and i said to myself in my head "Yeah right when you get it all right in the end you damn well can join the dots!". But over a period of time going through the paved ways, trudging through the murky thick times, sailing right under the sunny skies and going over the small bumps i totally agree with Mr. Jobbs as i do with his technology; Life surely has a plan to make sense out of your story.

The theory of butterfly flapping wings to start a tornado; i have no written or read proofs for why these disasters happen or what triggers it. Which of the winged species caused the Irene or which animal got into whom to cast a holocaust. But from my insignificant life compared to the mother nature i have started to believe that every incident and circumstance has a time, place and the reason. I am still not sure that if its a balanced equation or a chain reaction but surely there are these series of events which would rationalize every irrational happening in the end.

Every tough time i went through has gifted me a true friend, every bad boss hass given me a better opportunity, every difficult place has provided me my anchors and every lost way has given a new breath to my life!

So raise your glasses dears and dearies to The Life and its unseen twists and turns!

Painfully Beautiful

I love a cloudy day, I love when the grey engulfs and swallows all of the bright and chirpy blue. I peer out my window many times at night and love watching the eerie and enigmatic street, which becomes so trifling in the morning with no identity of its own. Stories with wicked twists and dark characters enchant, there is a lure to know more about the uncanny side, the diabolic dimension and we want more of those noxious emotions they trigger. What is so seducing about the melancholy?

What is so beautiful about the pain that not only inspires poets to write heart wrenching verses, writers to author profound literature, painters to paint the deep; masterpieces for blessed souls who would posses them for generations to come.
It is not only the artist but the audience equally spell bound with the pain or else why do many acclaimed movies leave us with a sinking feeling, why do the most legendary songs claim tears, why do books with uninhibited pain leave us clutching to the paperback for a long time?Why is dark so beautiful and intriguing?

Maybe as this beauty is born out of human imagination belonging to the deep recesses of human mind; where lies the pain of past, struggles of life, and miseries borrowed.I believe because pain is the only emotion which in real sense makes us feel alive; i does make us feel human at many levels more than any other emotion is capable of, there – lies its beauty...
What do you feel how beautiful is pain?

No Regrets

“Jumpppppp!!!! We are in Queeeee!!!!” and then all I remember is my heart flipping and my feet plunging, my body following into the depths of chlorinated blue green waters of the swimming pool. I came out and heard the lifeguard scream out to me to clear the area for the next guy waiting to jump from the highest board of the Olympic size swimming facility. I had done it! Blurry eyed I looked around and saw the nodding and smiles which I took it for granted were for my great fall. I was thirteen and I had conquered one of my biggest fears of my childhood. It took me five times of standing in the queue peering down and taking stairs back. Though I still have butterflies in my stomach and a vertigo to think about the breezy summer evening when I was shivering on the concrete edge just entering my teens and ready to face my worst fears of those days. Knowing it would not kill me something inside me always used to pull me back, can’t place a finger on that feeling though it would be a common one. Bungee jumping is my new found fear factor where I imagine myself quivering and clawing against the cobwebs of indescribable emotions while plunging into the unknown rendering myself to the strength of the mere harness. It is a very metaphorical way of looking at many situations in life. There are so many times I have peered into unknown , calculated, assessed, reassessed, exhausted all mental faculty to decide and then just taken the plunge leaving it to that something that will save my soul and will get me back upright unscathed. Lot of people think impulse and the rush are a fool’s way. But who has seen beyond and who has guaranteed the exact rewards. But after you have taken the plunge you would have experienced the raw emotions you had no clue you in your human form could feel. But if you walk back go down the steps to cover every ladder rung would feel tiring and you would be weighed down with regret. How many times would you make it to places you have an option to plunge or how many times you would get to that height where you can dive down to the unknowns. Well my epitaph will read “No Regrets” so I am going to ride the scariest roller coaster, see the tiger in the wild, dive into the deepest seas and yes I am going to jump with my both feet in it.

True Under Dog Story -1

Spotty was a good looking, agile Dalmatian and was a favourite in his lane. He had friends who loved hanging out with him and his family who always wished well for him. He had a smiling face and a smiling outlook towards life. Spotty was doing well for himself, he had a dedicated room in the blue and red king kennel and also his own white and black bowl. It was a good life morning walk, chasing the mailman and milkman, noon siestas, training under Uncle Bruno, games in the moonlight in the park and his mother, but he had these big dreams of going to the big city and chasing cars and hanging out with highway bullies. Though Uncle Chester had not made it big and had to come back to Harding Lane his stories were as enchanting as fairytales and closer to reality. Bruno never liked Chester telling the boys his wild stories about the big bad world because Chester never told the boys how bewildering and deluding city ride can be and that not all of their fellow canines get to wag their tongues out of those car windows. But Spotty did not bother much as he loved day dreaming about the city with a beach and bright lights and endless possibilities for life.

Few days after Spotty completed eighteen dog years and had lived on the lane for one year and seven months, he with his park friends had stayed back for a little longer than usual at the park racing each other. Now that they were officially adults they did not care about the staying out late nor did their mothers on most of the days. Bling got tired and went for a drink after a little while there was a loud shout and Spotty as a lightning bolt jumped the gate and got out on the road where Bling was standing and he understood it was not a hurtful shout but that full of excitement. There it was standing on the side of the road the orange monster with his big light bulb eyes and humungous snout which made noises like grunts when it was gearing up to run they knew it was called a Truck and where they are from was courtesy Uncle Chester, he had also told them that there were many of these on the city roads and in the bravest of the lane Uncle chester the hero had rode on the monster to the city. Though uncle Chester forgot to tell these youngsters how dangerous they were when awake and running and how many of their kind were trampled to death by these monsters.
Spotty couldn’t help but stare at the truck all he could think was about the life if he just dares once and takes the leap of faith. Bling and others were meekly standing far and were ready in the sprinting position waiting for any sign of life. But spotty was mesmerized and was just planning his future life. Suddenly there was a flicker of light in the eyes, and then a blood rush; Bling watched with an open mouth as he saw Spotty get on the back of the monster and they ran to the lane.

Something beautiful

Purple and yellow strewn on the canvas blobs of pink paint tricking down sky blue and sea green circles surround the spots;
It doesn’t make much sense but it looks too beautiful to look away;
it is the feeling of creation which leaves the heart satiated and mind paused;
Mountains covered with lush green surround the blue sea and white sand flirts on the edges making it look sublime;
Millions of city lights twinkling through the window look like fireflies lighting up the world;
Sitting on the river side watching the rocks on the river bed underneath the cool crystal clear flowing water;
Pouring skies and dripping leaves;
Watching moonlit summers sky lying on a garden bench .
Listening to “Always with me” in a candlelit room while lying in the arms of someone you love;
Watching your old friends sit around you laughing about the younger times in past;
A freshly cheese cake on a white plate with silver trimmings with a streak of blue berry sauce;

My paradise in East

How difficult can it be to live in a fortified land where every movement is recorded and every person is a i.d card number. Though being a twelve year old I did not comprehend the concept and was in love with this little world detangled from the civilization outside. It was a valley with forest covered hills around. No one on the other side of these hills would ever know that there is a small town in the valley beyond the backwoods.
Living in this utopia was a dream for any twelve years old. The town was out of a story book, meandering roads wrapping the slopes leading to the wide lanes with thatched roof houses with well kept gardens and bamboo fences.
Sun would rise way to early in this place and sun rays made sure that by six in the morning the town was buzzing. Few children would scamper down the slope to bee line for the school bus while few would drag themselves somehow to make it just in time. In this town everyone knew everybody; children knew their teachers as neighbours and their neighbours as school mates. After school lives became an adventure in itself. There was so much to do pedal on the slopes of those snaking roads, just go for a stroll with friends near the bush to spot weird flowers and plants and sometimes strange colourful insects and many a times reptiles. At that young age intrigue takes over the fear and caution. Small joys were magnified in this magical world of mine.

Going for a swim in the central pool was an adventure itself. A rectangular ordinary tiled pool had been constructed in one of the depressions of the hillock to get to the pool you had to come down many steps, enough to keep you back from counting. Though the pool used to close just before sunset to avoid close encounters of swimmers with creepy crawlies, children would many a times crowd around the pool keeper to listen to the story about the brown snake which got caught in the net or sometimes about those big lizards which were spotted getting out after a morning dip.

Another one of favorite things to do after school work was reading comics at the library; somehow i never remember tracking time.Library was one of the landmarks in the town, a white washed building with a manicured garden and flower beds in bloom with seasonal flowers. It stood at a road turn; the reading area was always filled with the silence and excitement of many children who would pedal down the roads in the pleasant evenings to borrow books and meet friends.

It was an idyllic place with everything so pristine and beautiful that i remember it as a picture book. Sun Rise over the hills, sun shine bouncing on the lake where Sundays people could get the picnic baskets and take the boat to the middle of the lake and brunch at the small island in the lake. Crossing the bumpy bridge built over the creek to get to the golf course where there were slopes of green carpet like grass; rolling laughing down the slopes, fishing and turtle spotting in the fish pond. Holidays were awaited as there was always some new adventure waiting.

Round Robin

“Excuse me! There is a queue” and a glare is shot at a clueless face, which is last seen fading out in embarrassment; everyone looks smug when the guilty goes where he belongs to as if a much deserved was punished. It has happened to all of us one time or the other when we have got the dirtiest looks and have wished for “Thy hallowed Ring” to magically appear like it happened for Froddo or just want to shrink and wriggle away under the carpet; but when on the other side we have played the guardian of the queue – ship and shot down who ever has tried to violate the chaste vow of first in first out. Only those who have stuck to the line get to have the first serves or to be the first payee or become the first payer or gets to get his tooth pulled out before others.

Airport rush, ticket counters, self service food joints, ration cards, driver’s licence, doctor’s appointment, still grooving clubs, payment queues and any other place where more than two people have gathered; these are the locations or circumstances where you get to see the backbone of our social system “The Queue” or colloquially known as “The Line”. From getting movie tickets to getting to watch the movie to loo breaks; Even siblings are suppose to follow the queue system; the first one gets the bike, the passport to late nights and even gets to get married first; it has nothing to do with age.; just that he got here first!
In a day’s time we get an opportunity to be a part of this social system too often. It is a self sustaining system. No queue keepers required nor are any queue creators; here the queue itself minds its way. Whenever there is a breach in this system the Queue – ers become the self appointed custodians of the queue.
Queue is a strange phenomenon occurring anywhere but we need to thank those few human sensibilities for its occurrence.
Lot of emotions fly around the queues; men this one time want to change their gender for getting the privilege of shorter queues.
Women suddenly feel that two square feet area just belongs to them anyone evading this space is hit by a volley of – “excuse me please mind your hand / bag / umbrella / child/dog/ass/goat”. Every one of them is at their volatile best; the egos are vulnerable and nerves all frayed. You want to pick up a fight with someone go and stand just jump the queue and stand right in front of her/him and ignore the warning signs then u can see fireworks I bet. Though people become quite comfortable in the queues by simple distractions for calming them many bring along their friends to skirt along the line and keep them occupied and entertained through the waiting time. While some Queu - er would have that long pending phone call to the long lost aunt. While the other would be busy updating FB status “stuck in queue”/ “long queue; such a waste of time”/ “I wish I was shahrukh khan and jump this long queue”. People argue debate, fight, empathise, lend an ear, turn a deaf one all this and much more just standing in the queue. How much ever we hate the round robin system but we should be thankful it exists as it must have helped us evade many a wars.

Breaking the Camel’s Back

So the guy did not know that this straw is the last straw and he should not burden the camel with that.
But isn’t the threshold an invisible man you realize has been standing in front of you only when you bump into him/it. So we know thresholds do not come with brims which you can see when they are about to overflow or they are not like transparent measuring cups; that is the reason we keep pushing our luck. Since beginning humans have been teasing the thresholds till they come back and bite their backsides off.

Dinosaurs did not stay back in caves and wanted to go for a stroll everyday to watch the snow and have social hunting plans till the frost got to their brains and back spaced the species all together. The Neanderthal kept playing with the fire till that one got his hand burnt beyond repair and that is when he told the other Neanderthals that fire is hot it burns.

Then came the humans who still have not learnt how not to push your luck,since childhood keep talking in the class thinking that ah this one time the teacher will again ignore and then comes the note to parents. Then at college tests keep pushing your luck with the invigilator trying to act smart and get the guy on the side to help you cheat until you are kicked out. Then at the job sneak in late, scram early from work, thinking your boss is deaf, dumb and blind until you get the stinker. We keep pushing our luck with our parents, spouses and neighbour’s dog; but we still not learn where to stop.
I wish there was the orange light before the seams would burst and heaven’s fall.

Sloth in me

I would have been a billionaire if there was a job like lazying around. I would have worked hard at it. I feel it is a privilege now days to get those few times in a month or a year to hibernate, just not do anything at all but stare at the lemon tree. My top five lazy moments would be

5) Sunday afternoon starting at one, chilled beers are popped open one after the other, one large pizza and few movies those ones dodged at the nearest theatre when they were showing. Laid back hours linger on till you fall into oblivion and wake up a little hung over in evening along with pre Monday blues giving you that strange sinking feeling that is quite a party pooper.

4) The mid week holiday when u cannot getaway and do not feel like doing the weekend chores as they haven’t piled up. You just park on a couch and ruminate on newspapers. Keep flicking channels with lot of chai and leftover chakna (read drink accompaniments Indian style from batter fried peanuts, aaloo chips, strange farsaan) from last week’s impromptu house party.

3) One of my all times favourite is long train journey. Few pre requisites for the slothful train experience - the journey has to be more than sixteen hours, you have to be in an a.c sleeper class and the most important you need to have a side upper berth. But to have a fulfilling experience you have to have an overloaded I pod, two to three magazines you can just flip from cover to cover and a fiction with lot of masala. Though I am not much of a snack person but munching brings flavour to the experience. Starting with making the bed of the berth at four p.m or whatever time you boarded , start flipping through the magazine for fifteen minutes and then doze off, waking up to hawkers voice and tummy rumblings. Polishing of a plate of bhel and some masala chai then back to reading and then back to bed, in these precious hours you can indulge the sloth in you without any guilt trips.

2) One lazy exercise which I love is sleeping on rainy afternoons when strayed raindrops find their way through the windows and the smell of rain seeps in. All you feel like doing is getting in the cosy quilt and smiling in your sleep. The best rainy naps I have experienced have been in Bangalore oh how I miss the place, the amazing weather; it makes you just want to go back to blissful sleep. No wonder they call it retiree’s paradise. Even winter mornings in mountains has a similar effect when it is just too cold to step out and languidness has run into your bones. All you can do is pull out of the layers of quilts to sit up for a cup of hot coffee and view of the mountains covered in snow hypnotizing you to go back to sleep. For this one you need to make a trip to higher reaches.

1) Then are those Friday evenings (only when you have Saturdays are included in the weekend) when you get back home early just to catch up on the T.V watching. Friday evenings you can get away with a lot. Skipping gym, ordering food when there is homemade food, sleeping at three in morning and just being parked in front of t.v and the inertia not even allow you to change out of your work clothes!

I hope I have inspired you enough to take a journey to the yawning side of life!

TrUe ShOe LOve!!

Why is it not believable if the poor old woman lived in a shoe! It was a woman and not a man so quite a believable plot. Nursery rhymes are rhetoric but this one does help me conjure up a huge burgundy red snake skin Manolo Blahnik, though if I wouldn’t live in it but I would definitely, certainly, positively live with it happily ever after. All of my species does dream of sleeping over in a shoe store at least if not in a shoe sometime or the other. But men, especially the straight ones can’t comprehend the obsession, the emotion and the experience shoe shopping and shoe keeping brings along.
Since childhood girls are subjected princesses and their worth writing about stories and shoes have been an important part of it. Every time when you sit back on the plush high seat and slip your lovely feet into the chosen ones it is the fairytale experience. You feel how Cinderella would have felt trying on the glass slippers. Well the glass slippers were literally the sole reason for her happy ending.

Possessing those blue suede shoes and strutting into those satin yellow sling backs to your friend’s bachelorette and stealing the thunder on your sister’s birthday wearing those pink floral open toe heels. Shoes not only elevate you but levitate your spirits, mend your mood and will heighten your attitude. Not only gives you an endorphin rush but is a prescribed therapy for the break up heartaches, post bridal blues, no date panic attacks and low self esteem syndrome.
Though avoiding those much needed shoe shopping trips might lead to J factor advancement and turn you green when you spot your neighbour walk out of the door wearing that sort after pair or your old and ugly boss suddenly starts wearing black and gold Choos.

Not just the buying but possessing them and cherishing them is an experience all together. So you keep them in the shoe houses wrapped in soft covers. So what if my feet cry for mercy when I wear the blue python peep toe stilettos or how does it matter that they go out gracing my feet but come back home in my arms. But sunning them, airing them, sometimes taking them for a walk, periodically shining them with the right cloth and applying the right amount of gloss; it almost equals to the joys of having prized pets and how overwhelming they do not leak or poop and would never die on you!

But all joys and happy times come with an expiry date. People around you claiming to be your well wishers would tell you, coax you to part ways with them. They would blatantly barge into your private space and rummage through the neatly lined little boxes of joy and keep chanting oh my god so many of them, so many of them; how would they know you cannot ever get enough. “You do not even have these many clothes!!” why would not they understand that there is no relation there I might buy a dress or two to wear with my best two halves. After lot of profound thinking and long fiery debates you decide to let go of few of them. But the hardest part is yet to come the ideal way have a graceful farewell for these beauties; it is painful but giving them away to those skinny friends who have had their eyes on my lovelies – not an option. Giving away to strangers whom you would never see might mean euthanasia. Why not burry them in my backyard at least I would know they rest in peace. Or just let me stack them in my attic or garage I would like to pass them on to my next generations, as it is my unshakable belief that even the Alpha Beta generation’s women will feel the love for these foot adornments.

Torentz To The Rescue

The other day I had these bubbles of excitement stirring and rising in my head I just couldn’t wait to get home. No it wasn’t that much awaited date nor was my best friend in town, nor was it the opening night of the most talked about club. It was a very simple story; I had just got my hands on the next season of my favourite series from my forgetful friend, but only after some thirty seven reminders and numerous follow ups. I couldn’t wait to get home plug in the external source to my laptop, microwave some leftover Chinese and a bowl of pop corn. And start watching the unravelling of the lives of my favourite characters. The makers of the series would have received blessings from many like me. They had given us a reason to come back from work early and look forward to the other day. They always left us with a glimmer of hope for the next season making drudgery lives bearable.
But then what about movies do they have the same affect. Yeah going to movies are fun but the stories last those measly few hours of a weekend night, we hardly get to know the characters before their story is over. Yes sometimes you spend Mondays discussing the plot and the actors over your cubicle walls. But with the series it is that you get a lot more to lap up about the characters. You tend to hate and love them and start calling them by their first names. Crime investigators, to the Manhattan girls, to mother of two who is a drug pedlar, to undercover agents, to small town girl, the vampire lovers; n yeah the weird friends, idiosyncratic families; All these characters being far far away from our lives but they become our passport to escape from our realities. Their lives exciting, funny, unbelievably real, enchanting, glamorous; you feel a part of the ride.
The best part about it is that u do not have to wait for a whole week to watch them and u don’t have to swap channels and estimate the break times. Uninterrupted storytelling and if you can’t satiate your intrigue you can stay up all night watching the collection.
Addiction yes but not that harmless if I must say ;)

My love - Hate Relationship

It is like one of those times when you are dating someone you have been besotted by, and he is just not falling for you. So you go on telling your friends how you hate the way he does not take your calls or does not hold your hand during the most romantic movie scenes. You go on listing out the things you can’t stand, habits you hate and stuff u wish he had in him. But when your gurlies ask you the question then why do you still have him on the last dialled and still why you keep his picture under the pile of clothes, why u still call him to tell him what a bad day you had or why he would be your first choice to go for that concert you have been dying to attend.
My relationship with this city is on the same grounds. So the fascination started long back when I had walked the streets of old Bombay with my daddy dear, it seems in another lifetime. The city was enchanting for its old architecture, amazing for the its magnitude and capacity. It was luring as possibilities of life seemed endless as the sea i was mesmerized with. Those were the days when a starry eyed teenager fell for this adonis of a city. Universe conspired to bring me to my love and somehow i was in my city of dreams.

Here i am living in mumbai but whenever I speak to my out of city friends I cannot stop complaining about how I hate the crowded trains and how I wish roads were wider and traffic signals went off sooner. How I whine about the filth and poverty everywhere. How i always am busy and everything seems so far. But when they fall in line and start picking faults and try to convince me to move; i vehemently defend my love.

Because even now the neon lights fire up my dreams, Till this day the buzzing traffic at two in the morning gives me a sense of security, I still am in love with the feeling of being near sea shores, I can not believe that my hunger for different experiences can be satiated by any other single place, I know for sure that even after living here for years i wil always have a new place to visit, new person to meet and a new thing to do and a new dream to live. I am in love with my city as much as i was as a young girl.