Mehendi Monday / Holiday Henna

Coming from a person who couldn’t agree more that the ultimate turn off was the sight of henna-ed hands (or that mop of carroty-red unruly hair atop any person’s head), yours truly has gone ahead with a complete mindset re-programming.

So all other times - five instances (to be precise), I have surrendered to henna on my hands, but not without first putting up my best show at aversion.

But a couple of days back, I got a moss-green blob of henna applied to the centre of my left palm.

The green concoction.
The grassy smell (that have always abhorred)
The henna cone working its way merrily on my palm
And surprise...

I did not even utter a squeak. Let alone squawk.

After about three hours, I even went a step ahead, applying a well known cold-salve onto it (guaranteed to make the colour turn a richer shade of gingery-orange). Talk about a role reversal at its best (or worst)?

Though I admit I did generously spritz my most preferred EDP on my palm, it’s still a long way for me to have come.

Next step – applying henna to my hair in ten years?

Nahh. I think not.

And thank God for small mercies. Amen.

Tequila - a girl's new best friend

While I didn’t exactly go on vacation, my mind has been ‘out of office’ literally.

I snap back to reality, to stay true to at least one of my Resolutions (to write this blog).

Seems like I may have just bumped into my true calling in life.

Drinking.

And getting paid for it.

Ha!

I bet your face turned that unappealing shade of emerald, didn’t it?

Well, don’t quite furrow your forehead yet. There is still some time to go. Before people like me manage to pull it off.

From the country that gave us chocolate (God bless 'em), Santana, Salma Hayek (lemme hand out a tissue to TOOMA to wipe the drool off his mouth), hammocks, sombreros, guitars, and the salsa, here’s another first.

Scientists at a University in Mexico are waking up to the charms of Mexico’s most famous liquor besides Tepache – tequila! No kidding!

The spirit that calls the ‘shots’ in just about any party, just got a stamp. Of approval.

From those hard-to-be-pleased-specimens, no less - women! (I should know. I am one).

The reason is clear.

Tequila contains hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon in the exact proportion required...to form diamonds.

So you apply the requisite amount of extreme heat (I’m talking over 800 degrees C/1400 degrees F) till the liquor vaporises, cooling the particles, settling them upon trays in an even layer...and voila! You have those sparklies.

Not very big ones for jewellery purposes. But sparklies all the same.

Neat, innit?

Now if only that University is taking in applications.

You do know who’s registering, don’t you?

Though I'm not too sure if I prefer diamonds over hic-hic sessions.

Read the full story here.

Cheers to more Tequila Sunrises. Hic!

What's your vacation breaking-news style?

The idea of a vacation is a sure-shot way to get someone to smile. Maybe even clap.

The people at work are no exceptions...

While some do their individual versions of Cheshire-cat grins when they leaf through the travel glossies, there are quite a few variants too...

So you have the ones who will do the Heyy-I-have-a-spring-under-my-rear jump rendition the minute they book their tickets online or when their travel agent hands them the ticket to their preferred destination.

You also have the ones who will air-guitar in triumph when the Bog B (the Boss) gives them the highly-awaited go-ahead green signal for that long leave...

Then you have the ones who will do the Brett-Lee fist-paroxysm-of-joy, made famous by that absolutely dishy, impish Australian bowler.

Some have been known to take out the ancient war-cry of a long forgotten African tribe which heralds its victory over another.

There are yet others who sigh in relief, and look around with that tired I-richly-deserved-a-break look (These ones annoy the shit out of me, and serve the same purpose as a laxative, proving themselves as strong competitors to the Isabgols and Phosposodas of the world).

Next are those who will make full use of the company phone, and holler into the unsuspecting ears of every friend they can manage to get on the phone, about how the blue-green waters of the resort pool they were going to visit, reminded them so much of the favourite pair of contact lenses the friend favored. Under such circumstances, can you blame it if the phone network jams all of a sudden, and after the phone getting disconnected, it is impossible to get through to the same number again?

You also have those who take a printout of a countdown calendar, and place it strategically near themselves. Making it a point to fish out their red felt-tipped sketch pens and neatly cross out that day’s date. And all this is done only you pass by their desk. After crossing out the date, they will then deign to confer their total attention on you. By then, your face is one shade short of freshly-picked spinach. And to make matters worse, you’ve forgotten why you had walked up to him in the first place. Leaving you green, hot, and very very flustered.

Next in line are those who are about to embark on their dream vacays. However, you wouldn’t know that. ‘Cos they will tell you all about Greek baklava and babes only when they return from Greece. And all this while you were commiserating that probably he was recuperating from a bout of some serious ailment. While the son of a gun was busy frolicking on the sun-kissed beaches...

Lastly, you have me, who goes into vacay mode the minute she:

o Opens her ‘Out of Office’ window
o Types in those ecstasy-inducing-in-her words about her upcoming absence at work
o Flutters her eyelashes at the monitor, air-kissing it in relief, and
o Sails out, a free bird….For her much-awaited trip.

S-W-E-E-T

At the back of my mind

The heart is always at the heart of attention, the face facing an acceptable due on most days, hands clap and call out unashamedly for attention, shoulders have shouldered a fair amount of importance-quotient, the chest heaves with a singular life of its own, heck, face it – even the legs have legged it out on the popularity charts...

Leaving us to turn our backs on one of the most neglected parts of the human anatomy – the back.

Unless of course you are cursed with a weak back thanks to some injury, and do not want to aggravate the pain further, in which case you are confined to a life of back strengthening exercises and fingers pressing at the point where the groans come most from...

While the back is one of the hottest parts of a person’s body, it is relegated colloquially, denoting a less than positive connotation – be it in terms of turning one’s back on someone, stabbing someone in the back, backing off, delivering a back-handed compliment, have your back against the wall, like water off a duck’s back. My weight is like a monkey on my back. And by not giving it some serious thinking-over, I am just making a rod for my own back. And if I someday, I make my way into a glitzy mall and fail to find clothes my side, well, what can I say – that it will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

And no, TOOMA* is certainly not going to give me a pat on my back…he is magnanimous with me, but he would also certainly not give me the shirt off his back...

The beauty industry - that sparkling, glittering, dazzling industry – has also taken a back seat with the back. So while you have pretty models paid mini-fortunes to do the rub-a-dub-dub routine by way of cleansing-toning-moisturizing, in various print and on-air commercials, the same sadly cannot be said about the back, which currently seems to be on the back burner.

We do need more celebs along the lines of Rihanna, Angelina Jolie, Megan Foxx, Christina Ricci, who are celebrated for their backs, besides the obvious, and bands like 50 Cents that have bought Sexy Back (Sorry Timberlake).

In all these years, not that I am a fan of the idiot box, I don’t recall a single advert which celebrate the back...

Maybe it’s high time they did.

Are Estee Lauder, Shiseido, Chambor, Ann Sui, Elizabeth Arden sitting up and taking note?

Closer home, is Lakme listening?

*TOOMA - The Object Of My Affection

Wishes for a warm 2009

Amidst much fanfare and high spirits (literally), the New Year finally descended upon TOOMA and me.

While I sleepwalked the first few hours in a drunken stupor, I couldn’t help but remember what someone has told me many many years back –what you do on the first day of the year, you do for the most of the remaining year.

I sure hope not.

As the biting chill cut across to my very bone, I shivered inspite of the warm black hood shirt that enveloped me protectively. A spinning head and a dull, throbbing ache, bore sharp testimony to the incessant liquid that ran through my veins, instead of the usual crimson blood.

Hitting the dance floor non-stop certainly hadn’t helped either.

As flashbacks of my antics with perfect strangers painfully crossed my mind, numbing me into a near-state of horror / disbelief / utter mortification / remorse, I silently gave the thumbs down to any plans of ever mixing spirits, nixing them in favour of showing steadfast loyalty to one, or at a max, two preferred brands.

On that guilty-as-charged note, let me wish you all a ‘spirited,’ warm, joyous and prosperous 2009.

Hic hic.