It's Amazing how you speak right to my heart

It is amazing that someone remembered the prayer lead of the third grade & that thought was enough once but the heart is a wild creature that wants what it can't have because sometimes we are merely nothing more than a habit, passing fancy or the recipient of a consolation prize gift wrapped with a for my friend tag !!


That is just not good enough. It was never good enough, still isn't and if that means having one less friend then that's how life is. Life's a Bitch! 


Just Good Friends is no longer good enough!


The third grade prayer lead is no longer in two pony tails and a school uniform.


Two people have one moment when they can catch fire or ...


May be that was a moment missed. 


There was hope of growth yet all things are stagnant now. There is hardly any air left in the Room to breath. 


There is so much that could have been. There is so much that can be.


Yet, with no words exchanged there is no future. There is no you. There is no me. We don't talk no more. 


But it still is amazing that the 7year old boy remembered the girl who sang the National Anthem in the school prayer. 


Would have been a perfect story had the boy and the girl done something amazing together. But that's another chapter of an unwritten book.

It's just the alcohol talking

There could have been a more appropriate title to this post, but this is as good as it gets. What they don't tell you while growing up is that you shouldn't let your imagination run wild. They tell you to use your imagination and let your creativity flow. So, there is no harm in day dreaming. All children day dream in their childhood, some even have imaginary friends. They talk to them as if they were real. None of the adults find it strange. It is an acceptable behavior. No one challenges their sanity.

But can an adult do the same? Can you and I have imaginary friends? Can we at least talk to real people and have imaginary conversations?

Some of you may be already wondering where is this discussion going?

To be frank this has its root in a TV series about a Psychologist and a Therapist. The different cases she deals with are quite frankly eerily familiar. Some of the behaviors exhibited by her patients has such a familiar feeling. It just made we wonder, what is the line between sanity and insanity? Who defines sanity? How do we define sanity?

We don't define Sanity. We can only define what the deviations are from Sanity. Doesn't this make it completely prudish and dictated by social, communal, racial boundaries? What is perhaps acceptable in one culture may completely ridiculous in another.

But cultural diversity is not under discussion here. This is really more about the individual.

Can depression manifest itself in physical illness? The mind is such a powerful object. I am sometimes in awe and fear of it. It can let you take leaps of imagination, flights of fantasy and even turn on itself and self destruct.

You could for instance pick up a bottle of RUM and try to become an alcoholic just to see whether one addiction can release you from another obsession. Does that make you a psychologically handicapped person?

You could also for the sake of argument have imaginary conversation and spent days with an individual, sharing thoughts and laughter, all right inside your mind. Do this for a prolonged period, and all of it starts seeming so real, you almost turn side ways to talk to them aloud. If you do that you would be a very good choice for a visit to the Shrink. If you don't, you just remain in your delusion till you actually meet the imaginary person, and realize that the dream world does not transcend into the physical world around you. How is it that an outwardly normal [sic] person can go about life without anyone suspecting the obsessive nature of the individual? How every little possession is hoarded into boxes, and plastic wraps?

May be mental illness need not be so uncommon. May be we are all a little dented in the head and have some wiring gone wrong.

May be it is not necessary to like and love the same person, may be it is okay to want two different people at the same time. May be life is not always about two choices. May be life doesn't need to be divided between Normal and Abnormal, acceptable and unacceptable.

The Prince and the girl with a Purple scarf

Once upon a time there was a prince who lived in his Kingdom up in the Northern Mountains. He went on a travels across the Great River to the Eastern Kingdom of the Rising Sun. There he rested in his Uncle's home for a few days before he made his return journey back to his Chilly City. One day he went to fish by the river near his Uncle's home. As he sat with the bait and tackle, he heard someone sobbing. He left his bait and tackle on the river bank and followed the sound to a big tree, where he found a girl sitting and crying. He asked her why was she crying, she was startled to see him and tried to run away. He called after her and introduced himself. She sat down again and told him that there was a merchant who had loaned her money and now wanted it back, she could not afford to give it back as she didn't have the required amount. The prince offered to pay off the merchant, she refused to accept the offer. He insisted that he would be only helping her and she should accept. She said she would have to think about it. She had a black Pony and she left on in. He wondered why she didn't have a proper horse, he found the Pony to be ridiculously slow and a silly beast to be kept.
The prince went back to fishing wondering what was there for someone to think about this offer. It was a fair offer. He waited for her to meet him and accept the offer. But she did not come. One day during a dinner in his honor at his uncle's home, he saw her again. He approached her and she spoke to him but did not mention anything about their previous meeting.

He thought may be her problems had been resolved. That night, before she left, she hesitantly asked him whether he was still willing to help her. He smiled and told her that it was a smart choice she was making. As she waited for her pony to be brought from the stables, he could not help but mention it to her why she did not invest in a horse which was faster and much smarter than this ghastly little beast. She smiled and said that she loved her pony and she wouldn't exchange it for any horse. Next day he arranged for the payment to be made on her behalf to the merchant.

Time passed by and the prince went on a small excursion to the near by towns, when he returned he was pleasantly surprised to find the girl waiting for him. He greeted her with a broad smile just like old friends. He realized that he had come to think of her as a friend. So it came to be that the Prince became a friend to this girl.But he could never understand why she kept that pony, infact, one day he even suggested that he would buy her a new horse, if she wanted. She declined to accept the offer. He made fun of her every time he saw her with her pony and asked her whether she'd like to race with a Donkey and she who lost.She smiled and said she loved her pony.

Months had gone past and it was almost nearing the time for the prince to depart for his kingdom, the girl came to him one day with all the money he had offered her. She told him that although she was returning him all the money yet she may require some of it at a later date. He didn't even think twice before agreeing. She was his friend.

The prince was now back in his kingdom, he seldom talked to his friend. But one day she sent him an urgent request for some money and he immediately ensured it was made available to her.He also insisted that she buy a new horse immediately because he had heard that pony's didn't live too long. She replied back that she loved her pony and didn't want to replace it.

There was a big festival in the Eastern kingdom and the prince was a special guest for it. He arrived with grandeur and half of his court. When the girl came to meet him, he had no time for her, as he remained surrounded by well wishers and other dignitaries. She left quietly. The week long festival was almost over, when the prince on one of his ride on the river bank met her again under the same tree. She was sobbing again. He wondered what was wrong this time. When he approached her and asked her, she told him that she was sad that the prince had not met her even once. The prince felt bad for his friend and insisted that they spend the next day by the riverside and have small picnic.

The next day the prince arrived to find the girl and her pony waiting for him. He chuckled looking at the pony. They sat down for the picnic and chatted away about all that had been happening. It was a humid day and the Sun was burning down on them, he laughed at the girl pointing to her purple scarf, and wondering aloud why had she brought it along. She said that she liked the color so she thought she would wear it today. He laughed even louder and said, how come she always loved all these weird things like a pony instead of a horse, a purple scarf instead of some nice color.

At the end of the picnic the girl invited him to come to her birthday. He said he would definitely come. He asked her what gift she wanted. He really thought that it was a good opportunity for her to replace the pony. She did not smile but said that if he felt so conscious about her choice of a beast then he should probably re think his agreeing to come to her party. She wondered what other things she owns might offend his sensibility.

He thought about her words on his way back and started to get angry. He was always so nice to her and why was she so surly. What did she see in her silly pony he wondered.

On the day of the event, he reached with his friends and courtiers and gifted the girl a beautiful, expensive silk scarf which he purchased from a foreign merchant. The festivities at the girls home went on late into the night. Everyone had a lot of fun.

The next morning it was again time for the prince to return to his kingdom. He went to say goodbye to his friend. He asked her whether she liked the gift he had given her. She smiled saying that she liked it. He asked whether she tried it on. She said she had the moment she had unpacked it. It was beautiful. She was proud to own it. He laughed and told her at least she had let him replace one silly thing she owned if not her horse, after all the silk scarf was so much better than the indigenous Purple piece of cloth she pretended to love. She smiled and told him that she would never think of his gift as replacing her favorite scarf. She didn't stop loving something just because he didn't approve of it, in the same way she didn't stop loving him even though he demeaned and humiliated her every time he laughed or cracked jokes about her pony or her scarf.

The smile from the prince's face vanished when she stopped smiling and waved goodbye and closed the door of her house.

A Piece of Time

There is only so much I can do to stop thinking about this. This piece of time becomes a constant reminder for what is not mine. It was never mine, it will never be mine. Such reminders are painful. They hurt, like small thorns that pierce the superficial layer of skin, and prick but do not draw blood. I wish they drew blood. I wish it left a visible scar. But these don't. So, I smile and do not cry, my eyes sink back further, the twinkle in them dwindles, the shine wavers threatening to lapse into salty tears, I hide behind the life which keeps me just on the edge of sanity.

I try to use my senses to understand the piece of time that I have.

I hold it in my hand, feel it's gloriously silken surface. It is shiny and my reflection looks back at me. It is heavy to hold in my hand. Sometimes I grow tired of holding it. I have to take it off and keep it away so my hand can rest. It feels like a weight. I cannot describe how it feels. I can describe what it reminds me off. It makes me think of handcuffs not the playful ones, but like the shackles of remorse. It doesn't remind me of you. But it does remind me of you.

I press it agaisnt my forehead and cheeks, it is steely cold to touch, it has not warmed up even after being in contact with my skin. That makes me wonder, how this is so like you. May be you are also cold. Yes you are cold to touch physically and metaphorically. You do not warm up from being in touch with me.

I put it back on. I look at this piece of time and wonder what it will mean to me. Now I carry it with me trying to get used to it. He and I are strangers. As I write this it clatters on the edge of the key board making metallic sounds, and I look at it, I get distracted by how the black letters on the screen are reflecting eerily of its shiny surface.

I see smudges where my fingers have traced lines across the surface, I try to clean them away rubbing it against my dress.

I think may be I will get used to this. May be this is a good reminder, that you are not mine.

The Hypothetical HBD Party Story

This could be your story or mine, you could take it to be a self help guide on How not to plan a Happy Birthday Party.

First things first, do not post updates on social networking sites about anything at all which points to anyone in particular especially if you want them to like you and come to your party. If you ask me why, I can only tell you, one woman's mead is another man's poison or some such thing. Plus people think you are loony to be so excited about your own birthday. Although I would have liked my friends to have thrown me a surprise parry but then somehow no one really likes to make an effort, so even after tonnes of hint I have to plan for it myself.

Birthdays are dicey times, at least for me, I am always very excited about them, so starts the upward curve of the graph and it moves up at a fast pace, then I hit the plateau of indecisiveness, my favorite past time, what to do, who to invite, where to go, etc etc. All this snowballs into stress and I am almost ready to give up doing anything but staying at home and vegetating. Then there is my happiness's bane the ghosts of Work plague me. The pile of work gets higher and higher with every hour that passes, this is stressful, there is the stress of not getting work done on time, there is the stress of non performance, there is the whole 'I am better than this' track in the mind. Add to it the extreme sensitivity [read emotions] expecting everyone to be nice & fair and all that which Librans expect and most of the times you would probably get away with a few indiscretions but not when it is our birth month.

The build up to the day can be always messy, some of it circumstantial others my own stupidity. Could be the shock of travelling in really cheap airlines, sweating profusely, almost wondering whether the flight would be able to take off with all the passengers and the luggage. Long hot day spent counselling uncounsel-able [sic] managers and then the horror of finding travel tickets unconfirmed, rushing from the station to the airport to grab the next flight out of the weird town where a national food chain can't serve a decent Ceaser's Salad and finally back home.

Talking about indiscretions, the story cannot be fun if there are none of these silly bits of nonsense in the past few weeks before the actual date, namely building up a guest list assuming people will say No, without checking the bank account, unaware of the Group Dynamics that could arise out of these people under one roof on the birthday. Some pretty awful decisions, thankfully all the mess of the tours and travels are good excuses to snip the guest list and finally, you can have the perfect set, umm make that a set + '1'. That perfect set is what you want when you have a party, where there are enough people who know each other, some sprinkling of people who are easy to be with and get along with new people, which takes care of the focus you might have to give on them so they are not bored. A time you could spend cultivating the '1' [read cute guy/girl/friend]. Ideally 7-10 should be the numbers if you want to keep it personal. It's not a treat, where you call in all and sundry to partake in what can only be defined as sip n bite. A dinner party, the kind I like, needs to be fun, smart and warm. Okay three extremely unrelated words.

I don't like hitches, so a place where everyone get what they like, food and beverages, where people can relax and you will not be asked to keep it down because your group is raising hell, which they must if it's My party.

Regarding Group Dynamics, the seating has to be considered, straight back chairs or Sofa's etc etc, the seating arrangement, I like to leave it up to the folks, but sometimes I got to make suggestions just so that the wrong people don't get to sit beside each other. If they do, you could try to ignore their bickering and frowns hopefully by the time the party is over they would not have killed each other or worse maimed someone so you end up in a Emergency Room.

The thing about parties is that they always get stretched, with all the cacophony, chatter, laughter and little bit of food and beverages.It could be compared to a many headed animal, which can change track at any time. It is hard to concentrate with so much going on. And as a host you shouldn't try too hard, because if you do there is absolutely no doubt about the fact that you will not enjoy.

Of course some people do not have choice regarding this, they could have spent around 6 hours crying and piling up paper hand towels trying to drown the thoughts rearing up in the mind which could lead to a complete cancellation of all celebrations.The reason could be feeling absolutely forsaken and abandoned because people scold you for stuff which you think is part of your quirky charm and fair because it wasn't meant to harm anyone. Well lesson learnt, people do not necessarily find your quirkiness charming, and apparently the world agrees. But usually such things can be overcome by will power and a little bit of greed for the gifts that are almost obviously coming to the Party wrapped up in the finest Gift wrapping, I mean the wonderful company of the people I love, of course.

A warm shower, a nice dress, some hurried make up and you end up in the middle of the milling crowd, sitting down, getting the servers to figure out the AC temperature controls and what not, the smiles, the photo ops, the gifts, the cake, the late guest, the awkwardness, the chat, the smile, the food and the toasting with sparkling wine, the wrap up and you realise 3 hours have flown past with no tear drops.

Parties have a way of making you feel warm and fuzzy or may be the people, so even when you may be sad about not sitting beside your favorite person because they have perched their bottom [ read 'cute' before bottom] between two delightful couples who are too nice to ask to be allowed to sit close to each other, you cheer up, you try to smile at first but then you actually smile without the effort.

You may not had the chance to click pictures with everyone of the guest, you may not have hugged everyone for coming, or thanked them for the gifts, you may have even not stood in the corner of the terrace and stole a kiss from that '1' you like so much, who made you sad for sometime, but you have just had your birthday party and you are unexpectedly content and happy.

The warmth of the evening seeps into your soul by the time you are on your way back home, you reach out and pour your heart out. It's always a good thing to talk. I have always believed so. For the sake of argument, status updates can read like stinker mails from Bosses, and friendly scolding can sound like a verbal thrashing from the team manager for indiscipline. But a birthday is a birthday, darling, I am a sensitive creature by nature, so handle with care is all I can say.

Of course, a hand to brush away the hair falling on my face and a surprisingly gentle hug can melt away the pain and hurt, but I wouldn't mind a kiss or two to make the birthday perfect just '2 mins before the day ends'. But then I have always wanted 'Everything'.

P.S: Advice: 

1. Bring a bag for the gifts
2. Don't open the gifts the moment you receive it
3. Cards you can read 
4. Think about our orders before placing them
5. Reason for not opening the gifts -  

• Gift wrapping and tapes are a mess
• You could break something
• You could be so overwhelmed by a gift that forgetting [sthan, kal and patro] place, time and person, you may put your arms around the '1' and end up saying something stupid like I love you.

Laughathons, Gigglathons and my laughter tracks

Everyone does it, you have done it too. Laughed till your eyes watered. Laughed till you fell of the chair or Sofa. Laughed till the drink you sipped came out the wrong way. Laughed till you had tears rolling down your face.

So we sit at the local sip n bite joint and over our respective Darjeeling or Earl Greys we cackle, giggle and snort sometimes over the craziest bits of nonsense. That's my gal pal J.

We could be in a movie theater, trying to make sense of a B grade Bollywod potboiler, with me going "I can't understand why this is happening" every few minutes, so there is exasperated sniggering at our mutual state of disgust and complete lack of foresight to come and watch this particular movie. That's when Me and P get together.

Roaring guffaws and equally screeching screams when we can't get enough of bitching done about our Bosses, or colleagues, there is some mixed dialect of Oriya-hindi-bengali-english going on, and whoever is trying to overhear just gets periods of hushed whispers followed, by loud noises and two people rolling off their chairs. That's S for you.

Imagine a dark room and the middle of the night, and all you hear is muffled sniggering, choked laughter interrupted by a few whispers. You could also imagine, a very serious face and then hiding behind my own cupped pals to stop the smile.There could be a few dozen people around or no one, it could be that we are face to face or over a phone call, but hell I could try yet I fail not to smile every time we talk. Crazy ideas, really innovative abuses, mind boggling comments on each and everything within eye sight, add to it a good dose of utter embarrassment when everyone else frowns at you. That's my CF.

In all the above cases, one warning I never heed, is not to drink or eat anywhere around these people, and always end up with the drink coming out of my nose like some cheap magic trick, or chocking on food, dropping cutlery with alarming ringing sounds, spilling water, falling off the chair or bed and still laughing as I lie on my back with my feet on the bed.

Thanks for all the laughter and the smile, I am smiling thinking about all the funny things we said and did.

Warning about the link Below:

To know about the Giggle Loop is to become a part of the Giggle Loop...

Laughathons, Gigglathons and those who Do it.

"You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling"

someone once told me that after a certain age you cannot really feel the same kind of emotions about another person, which we associate with being in love, when we do fall in love for the very first time. today as i sat across a dinner table and in the passenger seat of a car i kept thinking about how i have changed over the years. i may sound disillusioned, but i am not. i just started to feel strangely bored of all the happenings. there was no subtext in my words, there was no parallel conversation in my head, i said and did what I felt like.

i didn't feel the need to hug you, nor to hold your hand when we crossed the road, the music on the car stereo had no special meaning. i wasn't shying away from touching you, i wasn't worried about saying something intelligent, entertaining or worse dumb.

as u went on gushing about other women you hardly knew, except seeing their photographs, who did not stay awake to listen to your student life's stories and events, who didn't know which may be your favorite restaurant,  who didn't know about your crazy ideas, who did not laugh with you at 2 AM, who did cry for you when you were at rock bottom, who don't think whether you have had your dinner, whose hearts don't melt everytime you smile and eyes twinkle, who don't have to change the phone wall paper everytime they meet u. i wished I wasn't the one to wake up and go to sleep with your thought.

for one tiny moment i let my mind slip just when i had slapped u mockingly a few times, for a tiny moment i wished to let my palm remain where they were for a few more seconds.

but the fact hits me now, u don't like me.

you never will.

you are just not into me.

i fought with you today and between the tears i wanted to say, "how can u do this to me, i like u so much.?" but i didn't. thank god i didn't.

i tried to look into ur eyes, only found, sarcasm, mockery, intelligence, cleverness, honesty, attitude, smartness, logic and no love. i will have no trouble looking into your eyes now, because i know there is no love for me, no feelings for me.

i owe u a lot and that's all there is to it. i owe u a lot of help, faith, belief for standing by me. i owe it to my feelings for u my new found peaceful professional life. sometimes i shudder to think had i not felt drawn to u would i hv taken the hard decision to quit and come here? i think i wouldn't have.

i didn't want to write so much.

all i wanted to say was, i know u don't love me and never will, it makes me feel so empty yet at least now i can put this upto age, where it is no longer possible to love someone with abandon anymore and not want anything.

u r right, when u say u r an eligible bachelor. come to think about it, u have got ur valuation correct, the education, the profession, everything, and i guess my worth just falls short compared to everyone else u want to be with. i just wish u wouldn't say it all the time, every time. and yes i love to color my nails with neon nail paint, wear purple sunglasses or carry animal print stoles, but that's who I AM. that does not make me a wannabe.

i have lied to, avoided, ignored friends because you obsess with them, i wanted to spent one special day with u and when it seemed impossible i hoped at least the presence of a crowd of people would make me feel better, but now, i just want to be alone.

it will probably cost me a few more friends, and some loss of face but my heart is crushed and so is my courage. i can no longer be brave.

and i am sure u will find something to mock in this too.

but it doesn't matter something inside me has just grown old.

"You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling"

Decoding the Libra Gene

It's been years since I met this chap, way back in 2002 when we were in undergraduate studies, we spoke for the first time. The years that intervene between that time and today are not of continuous communication, yet even when we meet after yet another gap of 3 years nothing seems to have changed. Yes I know that it is impossible that we are the same people who went on an impromptu trip to Pune and the outskirts during Holi, both of us bunking work with really badly made up excuses. We have changed, what hasn't is the way we interact. What hasn't changed also are those common memories of laughter, embarrassment and what not.

So on the Saptami evening when my friend returned to his home city for Pujo after 4 years it was a delight to accompany him. We walked and peeped into every pandal that was on the way, I was trigger happy with my phone camera, sometimes, actually most of the times only clicking blurry images. As usual he took the clicking a  bit more seriously and has captured all these nice shots minus the blurriness.

I was reminded of the instance in front of the Pune Fort where he climbed on top of the Wall to click the photo of the Statue. God those were crazy times!!

When we sat down on the Park Bench at the Holy ground where you always find your long lost friends - Maddox Square, no wonder our discussion veered to what is it that has brought so much happiness to us, what is it that has brought the craziest and the nicest people close to us. That's where I decoded a bit of the Libra Gene. Oh yes, you may not be one to believe in the Zodiac Signs, may even smirk at Linda Goodman, but hey, we are just discussing, no arguments here. That's how we Librans like to win an argument by the way.

1. Why on Earth do we have so many best friends? - Seriously, ask a Libra, they will rattle off atleast 3 names. Somehow, the concept of Best Friend being Singular has not really gone down well with us. Everywhere we go, for every phase of life you will find us with one BEST FRIEND. I have my share too, and in fact some of them are reading this right now.
2. Why do we have so many friends? - I know you don't understand why this should bother us. But it does bother us sometimes, you know, are we too easy as friends, apparently our demands or expectations of what a friend should be is rather flexible. So we are easy to be friends with. I think we are just lucky to have friends. Everyone seems to want to talk to us. Boy do we love talking!! We love 'yapping' the most and if it ain't with a friend it can be with an acquaintance, could be a cab driver, or the passenger in the train compartment or the guy sitting next to you on a flight.
3. Why do we seem slightly if not very Possessive about our stuff ? - you heard that right, we are by nature possessive about things, people, places etc etc... you will hear us say things like "My Friend", "My Camera",  "My locality". We don't mean to be selfish or mean we just like to know what is ours. Just so that you also know that's how we feel about you.
4. Why do we like to be hugged? - some of us don't but most Librans I know do like a warm hug, if not all the time, sometimes, especially when they are down. We actually take offence at not being hugged, ask my friend who pointed it out to me that the last time we met I didn't hug him.Hug us but with caution if we don't like you, we may say, "What the hell is wrong with you?" If we like you and you just surprised us with a Hug, we may say, "What was that For?" and smile.
5. Why do we smile? Oh well, this may seem a little weird at first but if you have spent some time with us you know what we are talking about. We smile and you have no clue why we are smiling. Well one reason is we are thinking about something else and the smile crosses our face not necessarily anything to do with what is happening. That is the simplest explanation, there are tonnes of other explanation, but we will let you find out.We can be quite the Devil.
6. Why do we seem to have all the crazy people as our friend? Well, because we probably don't judge people as much as we are made out to. We judge you yes, then we think it is unfair to judge you, so we want to be nice to you and so we like you and let you be our friend. Didn't you ever hear, "Normal is boring." Okay so all of you who are reading this post and wondering "Am I crazy?" Well, you are probably not clinically crazy, if you know what I mean but you have your craziness which we have witnessed and kept our mouth shut. Oh yes, we are pretty good at keeping secrets, we take it very seriously when we are told not to share something, and it gives us sleepless nights.

The discussion was cut short as we rushed off to dinner. But the last final conclusion I decided to draw was pretty much like all Libra discussions, seeing both sides of the argument, calling it a Discussion, finding the middle path and being agreeable.

All people make great friends, Librans or otherwise, I feel had I not been a Libra may be I wouldn't have all you nice people reading this post and leaving those nice comments. Librans like the Nice in everything. Being Nice is very important to us. Sometimes, we bend the truth a bit to remain nice, other times, we blurt out the truth for being fair. Our eternal struggle seems to be between being Nice and Fair. You cannot be both as we keep discovering.

So keep your Libra friends close, they might be pesky sometimes but they are for keeps. If you are looking for a smile you know which friend to call. You can take reference of my friends in this. I can make people smile :). Seriously!!

For one more chance

Ekbar bol tor keu neyi, keu neyi ;(

The world is such a small place, your story came back to me in someone else's words across a dinner table. How is it possible the same person I shared my pain with, has actually met you somewhere in this lifetime, and sat with you across a table shared food and drink, the same time when I knew you and you were so full of life. It was simultaneously such a relief & so much of pain to know that there are others who think about you and miss you, may be the reason such a revelation comes to me now because somewhere you know how everytime my mind is away from all the rigors of life I think of you. I sat across the dinner table and wondered and said it aloud for the first time 

• Why I really feel so guilty?
• Why I feel so angry? 
• Why can't I mourn you? 
• Why do I have to define my relationship with you before I can cry for you? 
• Why someone you loved so much can just move on and have a happy life? 
• Why must I be left to find my eyes full of tears in the middle of a conversation?
• Why must you not be here?

To say it out loud, why even a trip to the place where you stood, why dedications, why shutting out the thoughts, does not wear away the guilt, makes me realize how much I miss you. I hope you are at peace wherever you are.

It is a simple wish yet so impossible, so impractical, so silly. But I promise I will meet you everytime you call, I will never call you shallow, I will never stop talking to you, just come back to me somehow, in this lifetime or the next, just let me make up for everything, just let me be honest with you once and fulfill those little dreams you shared. Let me be a better friend than I was "Rghy", your PRC misses you still, every time the smell of new books or old floats in the air, when Mohonbagan and East Bengal matches are played, passes your favorite restaurant  and there is no one who understands that.

Festive Bytes

Maddox Square

Heard Somewhere


"Since you are taking the pics, you have to upload on FB and Tag me. Tag korte bhulish na kintu?" - Boy to his group of friends in a Pandal.

"Ami dekhte pelam tumi camera ta amar dike na kore okhan chobi tulchile." - Accusatory tone of girlfriend to her boyfriend, when we four girls were cooling off a little after a long march in the Sun in a relatively empty Pandal.


Read Somewhere


"Why is the city so DRY?" - Very famous FMLS post, after post about how a certain capital city is not 'wet' enough [ read "its is so dry"] during the festive season, WTF do u expect in a Maa Durga foresaken part of the country?

"Kolkata is the place to be during Pujo." -  Couldn't agree more Sister.

Why I like Parambarata's character in 22-she Shrabon?

22-she shrabon is the latest new age Bengali movie to hit the cineplex. What is this new age movie? Movies which have an innovative script, some sharp editing, creative work by the DOP [cameraman] and some realistic portrayal of how normal people talk, not in poetry, but in abusive language, meaningless juxtaposition of words etc. Normal people, don't have a script to read, so natural dialogues in movies is fairly hard to achieve. Yet this movie does come very close to being natural.


But a review of the movie is not what I had in mind.


Parambrata's character is part of the detective division of Kolkata Police and his girlfriend is Raima's character. After the usual thriller like opening sequence we meet the couple having a fight and then they have a break up. So, how predictable is that!! But what follows after a few reels, when you are just settling into the the story of the thriller, and I must say this are two very well placed sequences with continuity and two beautiful songs that follows. Mr. Detective returns to his home and finds a 'post it' note left by his girl friend who has collected all her stuff and left and another time he suddenly sees his girlfriend with another guy,  her child hood buddy who also has feelings for her. These two are followed by two sequences that shows complete breakdown of the character.
I don't condone any of the drug abuse and the following alcohol abuse shown in the movie, however, why I like the character of Parambrata, is because, he is an upright human being, a focused professional, yet he has his emotional moment. A lot of people [read men] will laugh and say that the portrayal is completely 'nayka' which is probably typical of the actor. 


I liked what the director wanted the scenes and the songs to state, that all humans un-biased by Gender divide, feel pain, abandonment, loss and hurt. They are all fragile, they get hurt, they may not show it outside, but may be they show it when they are all alone. Reminds me of a scene from Raincoat where Ajay Devgan's character cried in the Washroom. The pain of loss can never be so small and so little that it does not effect you.


May be a new age Bengali cinema can be truly innovative in portraying the truth that remains hidden behind the facade of what is socially acceptable. MEN DON'T CRY.


What I am trying to say is, guys don't make snide remarks and laugh when women you love cry and are emotional, because you never know when you may lose them and are reduced to crying the same way as you are making them cry now. YES, don't be under any doubt that you are hurting them with all your sarcasm, criticism, smartness. BE NICE for a change. Relationships aren't about "one man-upship".

Understanding Women Lesson 101

I have heard it so many times that Men do not understand Women. They discuss it with their friends, get exasperated, put up some silly defense against it but fail against the mighty mystery that women are. There are some who try to gather some field data from female friends, the so called "Academic" facts but alas, if only this was sufficient. It is obviously inadequate. Yet, for the benefit of few or many here are some interesting Did you know variety facts for academic purpose.

• Women Do not like to be compared to other women, even if the name you mouth is a celebrity. Just do not bother comparing us. I am pretty sure this is not the day or age where you can compare us to "the birds, the bees, the petals, the pollen or what not." We may think you look a little like some cute celebrity but we like you even minus the Audi they drive. So just remember do not compare us. Especially do not compare our efforts to anyone else. If we say we don't like driving we mean it, even if your favorite blonde bimbo loves zapping around in her cute yellow Beatle, we don't. We would rather like if you made sure we had a chauffeur driven car.
• If we call you every day, even to ask whether you have had your dinner, it means we care about you. Even if you don't lust after us like your favorite red haired neighbor, we wouldn't mind two nice words and some thoughtfulness.
• If we buy you anything nice, accept it with grace and don't call us names for making the effort. Instead take it as a very elaborate hint that we like you & we want to find out whether you like us back. If you do, make an effort, gift us something nice, not necessarily expensive. If you do gift us something out of courtesy don't remind us every opportunity you get that the gift was really an obligation fulfillment. We are not like you. We get it that you don't like us. But we are too decent probably to show you the door.
• If ask you to make time for us, we do not think we own you. We feel that we may have gained a tiny bit of right on your time. Please don't make such a big deal about having 12 hour long meetings and bad work weeks, we also work and there are pressures in our profession too.
• If you make an effort and are nice to us for change and we appreciate it, please don't immediately make excuses to prove that the effort was no big deal and the formality of thank you is not necessary. When we say we liked what you did, you can at least smile back and say"My pleasure."
• If we agree to spend some time alone with you, it means we trust you. Please don't try putting moves on us even if they are really good. We like you already, don't try so hard. Just make us feel comfortable and you will find you can relax too.
• When you know we like you or are falling for you tell us that you are engaged, or married, in case we were not paranoid enough to ask you. Forgetting to tell a woman that you are already with someone else, and leading her on is pretty up there, with psychotic behavior and repressed personality disorders.In short it is weird.
• If you have us as friends, be thankful that you have someone who understands you even though you don't believe it is possible.

Hope that was helpful. Basic premise of writing this is that Men actually care enough to bother understanding women.

DIY Nail Art

I have been reading up on Nail arts the DIY variety and although all of it looks terribly easy, it ain't. But just for fun I did some of my own, first I started with something really simple. Here it is. This is basically reverse french manicure. In french Manicure the entire nail is done in transparent gloss and the edges of the nail are done in french manicure colors, which are usually, yellow, coral, white etc. In reverse French Manicure I have use a sheer shade of Gold and the nail edge is done with a darker color which is Purple. This purple is with glitter, although you can mix it up and use any other color. The reason I went for Gold and Purple because not all colors go with GOLD. For eg: if you want to use Silver you can use colors which go well with silver. This works for square tipped nails.

• What you Need?

1. Nail base
2. Nail colors - 2
3. Cotton Tipped Bud ( You can use cotton wrapped around the back of your make up brush too)
4. Polish Remover

Apply the Nail Base Coat. Paint with the First color, add coats necessary to get the correct shade, I apply 2 coats usually, sometimes for lighter colors use 3. Let the coats dry out before applying the next. Using the Cotton tipped bud dipped in Polish remover to clean the tips of the nails of the Polish you have applied. You don't need to be too careful, just remove enough so that it is mostly clean. Now apply the second color like you would do for French Manicure. If you haven't done french Manicure, check the Picture it will give you an idea. I made a mess on some nails where I had excess polish on the brush. Once this dries out completely, use a good top coat. You can use a glitter top coat if you want. If you want to add some bling put stone Bindis (the small ones) before the Top coat dries out.

This is the easiest I could think of.

Note: It may seem that doing the right hand with left hand is tough but trust me I found it was easy if you twisted and moved your fingers so that the brush stays still.

I read somewhere...

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

Cute Brownie

During my visit to the doctor's House I met "Brownie", he is the most docile pet I have seen. Normally, one wouldn't expect this breed of Dog to be so docile, in fact he was barking at the rest of the people, but he didn't bark at me, just sniffed around my toes, and feet. When I went into the waiting room, he came and sat near me, looking at me. He looked expectantly at me, I figured he wanted a bit of attention. So, when I scratched his neck he rested his head on my lap and looked at me. He was so content and happy.

But after sometime he seemed to get bored and went and sat in the balcony, he would look at me from the balcony a few times. He came to me after sometime again. This time he nearly swallowed my phone when I tried to click his photo.


I was very tensed about something when I was visiting the doctor's chamber, but spending the little bit of time with Brownie, I felt better.


Pets can be such a relief sometimes.I wish I had a pet.

Comparisons

My parents are one of those every different breed of folks who seem to think that I have turned out alright, but say that I haven't to every one else. I meet parents who gush tonnes about their sons and daughters. Here are MY folks who think all my friends are SO MUCH more civilized and better than me [Which they genuinely are]. I appreciate that my parents have never made a big deal about any of their achievements or mine. Everything was considered as a result of the effort which one puts into the task
 I don't blame them, or anything, they have been brought up in a very austere manner, so have I been, with no over the top display of any kind emotions or wealth.
I do ask them sometimes why they have never ever said one word of praise in front of anyone, they just smile, and I know that had they done this, I would positively not have appreciated the real pride they feel in me. Sometimes praise can make us complacent. I never like being compared to others, because as an individual I am different, my decisions and opinions are different, so is my personality, so expecting me to be like someone else is ridiculous. Comparing salaries,. marks, material assets none of these make any sense to me. I am probably one of those pseudo-saint like people who everyone hates. May be I have no cut throat ambition, or I am just plain unambitious and lazy, not to forget complacent about my position in life.

But this post is probably not about that. This post is because I dislike being compared to people even if they were "brilliant supernova's", but what I hate the most is when I am being compared to FMLS's.

Snippet of conversation:

CF: Why don't you buy a car? That would solve your problem.
Me: I don't have a garage for two cars. [I already have a Family Car].
CF: You could keep it outside.
Me. I don't feel Comfortable. And more over the problem of the Driver remains whether I have one or ten cars.
CF: Come on it's not big deal you can drive a car, look even FMLS drives one. Can't you. It's no Rocket Science.
Me: stunned, hurt, silent. Well her driving is not worth mentioning. I kept my hand on the seat belt buckle jsut in case we crashed, I would need to release and survive the crash. And God she keeps switching off the damn AC [lame one, I know.]
CF: If she can drive you can too.
Me: I have too much temper I can't drive. You need to have a calm patient mind to do that.
End of Conversation


I don't know why I should have to buy a car or drive one just because a lame FMLS drives one, she has no choice living in a god forsaken place miles away from her workplace, I live with my folks and have my family car. It isn't logical to have another car [period].

For all the smartness & logic, people can make silly comparisons.

All the Mush: One

All the mush where does is come from?

I often wonder, there must be a reason we have all these images in our head which keep popping up at all the wrong time.We have been fed on a steady diet of romantic fairy tales, Cartoons, Children's Movie, Hollywood Romantic Comedies, Sugary sweet Hindi Romantic Blockbusters,Romantic Poets who died and wrote pages of poetry for their unrequited love, and then some more.

Imagine a scene, girl meets boy, they go out for a long drive, the Radio starts playing that romantic song, and all the boy does is drive and keep his hand on the Steering Wheel, and eyes focused on the road. They get back to the city, boy drops off girl in front of her house, and leans in expectantly and she just waves bye and walks away.

Boy: "she doesn't love me, hell she didn't even look at me. I think she hates me, she couldn't wait to get out of the car."
Girl: "he doesn't love me, hell he doesn't even look at me. I think he hates me, he didn't even want to kiss me, he couldn't wait to end the drive."


And who do you blame for the misunderstanding? The foolish DJ who decided to play the Track.

Pranky Pranks' Quirky Quirks

A nickname like Pranky makes you wonder about how sensible, logical, and matured the person can be, and most often than not very much like the nickname, the person is found playing some tricks on you. But for some reason you still adore her, and for all her quirks in character you may not like her, but you sure as hell cannot ignore her. That's Pranks for you.[That's the kind of Testimonial people should write.]

• Blingy Bling and FASHION demon - The craziest colors and the wildest accessories are overflowing the closet, the drawers and the space under the bed. So there is the wild flower wedges, the Neon pink and purple sun glasses, the peacock earrings, all the stuff you would not be caught dead in.

• Narcissist in trial room - All the clothes you try, you got to check it out how they look when photographed.If you ain't looking smashing you shouldn't be buying.

• Incorrigible space invader - Just doesn't realize where she ends and they begin, terrible with personal space, always seems to be clinging onto people's hands, bags, worse case scenario, trouser loops for belt. Hugs unsuspecting people sometimes on the middle of the road blocking up the pedestrian traffic.

• Repeater - Some words in a sentence are so nice that they need to be repeated twice for they sound so lovely as they roll off the tongue. I like shopping shopping a lot.

• Decibel Queen - Screeches, screams, meows, barks, can sound like a Banshee and rip your ear drums when having fits of emotional out burst - not necessarily negative emotions.

• Eyelash Flutter-er -When ever there is something that she wants to be done, there is the round eyes, and the eyelash flutter added with the pouty face, and who can refuse that? 

• Secret Santa's elf - will pick up the craziest gifts and send them to you just when you thought you were safe and pretty much embarrass you. FYI, loves gifts, be it a bar of chocolate, a book or a trinket. If you made the effort to go and select something for her and gifted it, she's happy. However, can never appreciate being given money or gift voucher to redeem, or having her purchases paid for.

• Hopeless Romantic - Loves the mush, can't get enough of the mush, thinks the boy who plays the guitar and sings (sometimes), is sooo cute!!! So the Notting Hill, My Best Friend's Wedding and Alladin still make her cry copious tears including desi KKHH and DTPH. 

• Non Specific Music lover - Loves her Justin Bieber and Rihanna, but also doesn't mind the occasional Katy Perry and Lady Gaga, add to it a decent sprinkling of Munni, Sheila, Jalebi Bai and the rest of boy bands, Bryan Adams, may be a drop of Divine Comedy.

More Quirks coming up later.

[This post is "post" all the concentrated Bitchiness to show that one can laugh and be critical of oneself.]

Gossip Girl: The Latent Lesbian Aura (Note)

There could not have been many people out there who have been subjected to the distasteful experience of being 'felt up' by the same Gender. Although the being 'felt up' in public transport is pretty common experience with us in this country.
Imagine the horror of being subjected to the same only in a High Gloss Spa.

Imagine that you have relaxed your mind and body to the soothing jazz of Kenny G's Saxophone, with the incense burning and the therapists dexterous palms working their magic.You are asked to walk to the steam room to let the oil seep into your skin pores and make your skin healthier and apparently glow like that picture in the reception. Of course, you don't say no. You imagine in your self delusion that sharing the steam room with your Girlfriend makes a lot of sense, as then you can chit chat and have the girly banter.There you sit perched on the stone bench wrapped in yards of Towel which are very White, creepily so, but you like being pampered and wrapped and cocooned in the white fluffiness. As the steam fills up the room, you feel drowsy, and you eyes get foggy, and you start wondering why something like this can't be done every month, and that you will recommend everyone to come and experience this. You are rudely jolted out of your thought when you feel a hand rubbing your shoulders and arms and try and figure out what this means. But you have this creepy feeling which moves down your spine and suddenly the steam seems too uncomfortable and you wish you can see the face that goes with the hand, because you are not sure why the 'special' treatment is being given to you.

You are saved by the buzzer, when the timer goes off, and the Spa Therapist comes and releases you. You walk to the shower, wondering what just happens and spend the next 10 minutes soaping the arm and shoulders to get rid of the weird feeling.

Girlfriends can turn out to creeps too if you are not careful.

Gossip Girl: Byte of some Hot Stuff

So, now that this is going to be a fairly regular event where I spill some fictitious beans about some fictitious folks, I figured a "Naming Ceremony" was in the order, I usually name the characters as they pop up into the story, but I must say credit for the most innovative name is still due. FMLS is not my brain poop!

Yes, you heard it right. FMLS was named so one late night over an insane conversation that covered trips to Bangkok and Thailand ( no pun intended at all). But this is a dubious business of bitchiness, and I don't want to drag the brain behind the name out in the open, because he deserves his own Hall of Fame for his Humor  But acknowledgments are due, so, for naming FMLS all my heartfelt gratitude to the one and only My CF.[F stands for Friend and C, well use your imagination.]

I am pretty sure everyone has read about the Nobel winning Pavlov experiment, with "salivating" Dog and the bell. If you haven't here's a link to refresh your memory. Pavlov's Drooling DOG

Think Pavlov's experiment and then replace the DOG with a CAT, what do you get?


Conditioned to wake up at 2 AM.

Let me explain, there was this couple, in a very healthy satisfying relationship, blissful in their new found lust -- oops I mean Love, and so they spent every waking hour, being romantic, romancing the Sun and the moon, in April and June, rhyming like crazy and humming songs long forgotten, being mushy and sweet, jumping on the wedding bandwagon and landing in their "Camp Cot" bed.

Today's technology let's us get in touch with people at the touch of a button, also ruin their night's sleep with un-necessary horror bulletins of when and how some marriages are consummated. One feels like a fly on the wall in the furnace pit like room, avoiding letting my thousand (mind's) eye catch a glimpse of the horror. The thought of the text message remaining on the memory of a handset is similar to the feeling of the handset being violated by really dirty hands which have been to all the wrong places.

On a different note this festive season i will sprinkle some Ganga Jal on the said handset, it needs some piousness post the horrors it has undergone.

So the camp cot stories inflicted my sensibilities and then one sexy evening when I was blissfully biting into some cinnamon buns and sipping the mildly diluted coffee, the truth about Desi- Pavlov dawned upon me. He had done what some would probably give one limb or kidney for, he had trained the Mrs, to wake up at 2 AM, ready for as I mentioned earlier romancing the sun and the moon, in april and in june, and some more of Pablo Neruda's Love Sonnet. [FYI, I like the poetry the couple in question do not know, Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto existed.

My CF never realized how near to the absolute truth he was when he did his "I am such a Devil laugh" at his own "sense of humor" over the Pavlov-Cat Experiment.

P.S: CF dear, if you are reading this, let's not talk about it, because My phone can take only 'so' much of --- you know what stuff.

Gossip Girl - The Story about FMLS & DWS

When we again meet FMLS we find her desperately seeking a mate who she says must understand her dreams which are to fly as high as possible, and not expect her to take care of the family and everyday chores of the house. She is a high flying career woman and no way is she going to stop travelling 15 days a month to roost back at home over her "eggs". So weekend after weekend there is a constant stream of eligible bachelors who walk in and out of the bistro at the corner of "No actual place names" and "this is fiction, remember?"

Finally she is almost ready to give up, calling marriage a sham by which all men want to dominate all women, the pseudo feminism statements get higher pitched in decibel as more and more sane men refuse to marry her. Then comes the most poignant moment of truth, she shouts out to the world, marriage is legalized prostitution. I am positive no one has heard her yet. Because I am sure they would find it hard not to mention the 'unmentionable' fact that her parents are in fact 'married'.

One fine morning she invites all her friends to the auspicious occasion of her marriage, so when everyone asks about her fiance, we get versions. I got, the "HE is a Manager in Biiiiiig MNC and currently in US", another one got the "HE is a Doctor based in UK."

And then she shoots all of us another memo, to cancel the wedding dates, apparently the wedding is off.

By this time I am positive that the gentlemen in question must have realized his folly in saying yes and made for the north pole as soon as he got an inkling of the true nature of Ms. FMLS.

But lo and behold, the next surprise is her engagement, which happens in the most hush hush manner possible. Strangely the Groom apparently has changed in the ensuing confusion from "Shahrukhr" he has become "Abhishek" and from being a Manager in a Biiiiiiig MNC he is now a small time techie in some arbit IT company, fresh out from a Distance learning course and yet to smell the air of UK or US.

For our convenience we shall call him Dehati-Wannabe-SHHtud, a.k.a DWS.

Let's talk about some of the very important events in the life of Mr. & Mrs, SHHtud. They meet and decide to go for a photo shoot in front of a green screen, preening, into the camera, at the weirdest possible angles, and wearing, the craziest outfit of suit that sparkles, and sari that is so see-through that you can count the number of hair on her. So they pose like those 70's portraits done for the family album in black white. Interestingly the colors dazzle your eyeballs and you wonder why are there so many really bad colors in the world, and for some reason they are all on the clothes of these two.

The engagement is a another 'view in slideshow mode' occasion, where no friends are invited from the brides side, where they are both so busy showing of their Rings. And my my what beautiful rings they were. The gold seemed copper like, and the diamonds like pretty white zircons.The bitching session in this lies in the fact that the writer owns a better diamond ring than that engagement ring. Okay okay I know that was out of line, but hello, given that FMLS shops from Prada, Gucci, D&G a better ring she did deserve.

All's well that ends well, but in between there is the entire melodramatic episode of the secret marriage in the city hall. Why on earth would you want to do that in an "arranged marriage"? One is left wondering.

The entire time that all this is happening, the biggest shock was still lurking across the threshold and in the dark recess. Just then a common friend visited the lady in question, and did she come back with horror stories? The Gucci's and Prada's were hogwash. The wine was a cheap medicinal version, the apartment which was oh so grand happened to be somewhere near a slum, a tiny cubby hole pretending just like her to be an apartment, with no ventilation, no heating, no cooling, no running water..... you get the picture?

Madam lived out of suitcases full of the oddest clothes, the saris were far from designer house, they turned out to be from the local whole seller, with the tackiest of accessories from the flea market where your local vendor picks up shoes, perfumes,costume jewelry etc by weight, yes, that's what I am talking about. The living conditions of the said place was worse than anything you can imagine for a High Flying Career woman. No wonder she refused to do any household work, because she just can't. So says my friend after an excruciatingly painful stay, almost eaten by bugs & rodents.

One by one all the masks that FMLS wore dropped off, and slowly everyone around her figured out that she was just a wannbe who really didn't have a great job or a great life. All the high flying was on Company money, which sadly disappeared, because her Boss realized that she had out grown her usefulness. But the good thing is she found her soul mate in Mr. DWS, a similar wannabe soul who was going through life not realizing the potential of a cheap Digital Camera,a few trips to the local Mall & some light reading of Fashion Mags when waiting for a service at a beauty parlour- yes please read as written, this is not a salon'.

But the one lesson that I learnt from this is not to take any face book profile to be the real life mirror of a person, because like it or not we all love to put up a show.

Gossip Girl - The Story about FMLS.

We all have our share of gossips and bitching but you wouldn't believe me if I told you that it's actually more fun to bitch to a boy than a girl. Yes, you heard it right. Okay, so it happens that one of my friend posted on her blog about this irritating friend of her's, that kind of jolted my mind into all the gossip I have been picking up off and on from various sources over the years and more recently with the major gossip mongering I have been doing with this Boy who has the most interesting insights into human behavior & psychology. Although I still plan to write a book someday, this I think can be a fairly good practice session.

In all good faith I can vouch that when I turned 27 I came upon this realization that there are two kinds of people in this world "interesting" and "entertaining". I have met quite a few of both kinds, and heard about some more. Usually the interesting folks over time become entertaining but the opposite is not always true. So here comes a series about a few such entertaining folks I have come to know.

Disclaimer: All character are very much Fictitious. But if you find any similarity with someone you know, that's because common human traits. Nothing else. I swear.

In this story there is a girl whom we shall refer to as the 'Flea market lingerie shopper', FMLS for convenience.

So, I met FMLS during one of those trips outside the city, when my return flight got delayed and I was reading a book to keep myself from falling asleep sitting in the airport lounge. We started talking over the book I was reading, and then we decided to exchange seats so we could sit together. Like all techno savvy people. she popped out her blackberry and asked me whether she can add me on fb, which was fine with me. She added me and expectantly looked at me to do the needful which is add her back, when I fished out my poor non-blackberry QWERTY she arched her eyebrow and said that everybody who worked in corporate should use a blackberry. The first of many such 'should' she would dispense me. Next came the Corporate visiting card. I never carry mine, because wherever I go I think introducing myself is quite enough. Anyways, so out came the visiting card, and started the stories about the world tours she had gone on. But wait I am just talking about the first meeting. This same lady has been in touch with me for a very long time. Let me tell you the more interesting and entertaining conversations.

So she travels the world, and shops at all the hottest shopping destinations, and actually informs me of the discount sale in stores that do not have a branch in India. Can you beat that? I tried reminding her the first two times, and the response was more condescending and pretentious than the actual message.

This should a good time to explain why we are calling her FMLS, that's because I find her wearing the same lingerie all the time, pray don't ask me how, I just do. And she also happened to mention a particularly shady shopping district in S.E. Asia known for its flea market.

For a high flying corporate honcho she doesn't ever seem to have change just when she has to pick up a pack of smoke, she promises to return the amount you spend on an outing, saying she will pick up cash on the way back but I still haven't got back about 5 grands.

She is a self professed wine and whiskey enthusiast yet she has no clue what food White and Red wine should be accompanied by to top it all she didn't know how to spell Sangria, after I introduced her to the wine based cocktail. Her fb posts about all her trips include pictures where she is preening like a model on some shoot wearing unimaginably trashy clothes, which leaves me and the rest of friend list wondering where Does She SHOP?

There is a frightful lack of personal space with her, you never know when she will jump on you giving you a hug which probably will snap your spine into two or more pieces. Also if I may add, being the straight woman that I am, sometimes her presence really gives off a terribly 'latent lesbian' aura. And no I am absolutely comfortable with other people's sexual identity yet I would prefer if they didn't assume mine.

Her updates on fb are a treat, if you want an example of completely messed up grammar, spelling and meaning of words then you should read her posts. I actually have to read them a few times before commenting so that I get what she is actually trying to say instead of something completely lunatic.

She has embarrassed me a number of times online with her really weird posts on my wall and comments on my posts, I mean I have actually had some folks call me up on International call to ask what is it that she means with certain posts about certain things. The boys on friend list I think laugh the most with some of her completely silly comments, doesn't help the whole dumb blonde image that she has unfortunately developed.

It's so crazy that she happens to be the brand manager of a fairly good company, I just wonder when is her boss going to call her and pull her up for really terrible sense of dressing and I keep wondering how her clients understand her mails and presentations when she doesn't know the difference between 'quiet' and 'quite'? But one also remembers in these moments that English is not the Most widely spoken language.

So she struts her stuff, drinks, shoots from the mouth and leaves, and every time I meet her I thank my lucky stars that I have not become who she is. She lacks taste, culture,finesse, just about everything one should pick up on your way to the top and not just a fat paycheck. I am sure she has her heart in the right place, but I am positive that she needs psychological help, because her competitive streak with poor old me is just naturally stupid. I am no competition to anyone, yet she lies, she manipulates, she brags, she admonishes me on my choices and even tried to give me relationship advice. Either she thinks I am dumb which is fine, or she imagines she is my fairy god mother hoping to turn the pumpkin into the beautiful carriage. Either ways she's way to entertaining to me summed up in a blog post. Someday she will be a longish chapter in my book till then here's to my Flea Market Lingerie Shopper.

I still love her dearly !!! because her complete 'tasteless' (sic) existence makes me smile even in absolute despair :)