tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-348408422012-02-18T22:16:35.485+05:30Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.comBlogger3591100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-10832738213014906202011-07-11T09:15:00.002+05:302011-07-11T09:21:24.932+05:30

The phone rings. It’s really not one of your speaking days, yet you sigh, cradling the phone in your palm, and exchange the mandatory greetings. Barely a minute into the pleasantries, and you hear that most annoying of questions –‘Aur Batao' (loosely translated as ‘Tell Me More’)? You reply with the listless, non-commital ‘Nothing much, things are pretty decent,’ statement that you have mugged-up

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-88660217461226527052011-06-09T10:08:00.003+05:302011-06-09T10:20:53.671+05:30

Came across a very interesting fact file. Apparently, sunglasses appeared on the scene first in China, and subsequently Italy, but not for what they are used today. Instead, they were used to shield the expressions of judges while they decided court cases, and questioned those in the witness stand. Today, we are obviously spoilt for choice, and see sunglasses ranging from the wonderful to the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-25986334471509028462011-05-06T10:54:00.002+05:302011-05-06T10:58:21.560+05:30

To the A-lister, who made being of Irish descent fashionable, here’s wishing him many many more birthday candles to blow out. Cheers! Happy Birthday, George Clooney!Being him sure isn’t easy. Here’s why:• He’s the first person to be nominated for Oscars for both Best Director (Good Night, and Good Luck), and Best Supporting Actor (Syriana) in the year 2006 (He won in the latter category). And we

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-8408204938424766042011-04-28T16:28:00.002+05:302011-04-28T16:31:23.064+05:30

WWW – What is arguably the most common acronym for the World Wide Web, has another connotation for me.I belong to that category of women – the ones that whistle. Hence the acronym – WWW – Women Who Whistle.And it’s jolly good fun too. I suppose the habit stuck to me while reading ‘Little Women’ – donkeys years back (might I add), when Jo (Josephine) is reprimanded for whistling, as it was boyish

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-39675459092160535082011-04-13T15:21:00.004+05:302011-04-13T15:30:11.750+05:30

For as long as I can remember, I have had a complex relationship with my hair. I have my fair share of “dreadful” hair days even today, when nothing on earth can possibly drag me out of the house, programs of wine tasting / shopping notwithstanding. Then I have the days when all I can think of is going the bald way, or getting them shorn like new army recruits. Between these days of insanity, I

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-68837587990645545852011-03-28T10:33:00.003+05:302011-03-28T10:45:52.564+05:30

With the World Cup thrill reaching a crescendo, it is not uncommon to find motorists, eyes firmly set on the road, ears glued to the various radio channels that do a neat job of narrating the latest scores. With the din that the crowds make, it is a marvel that the commentary is audible, which probably accounts for the hiked decibel levels of the car’s music system and furrowed lines on the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-35012903513781251962011-03-15T16:26:00.002+05:302011-03-15T16:29:08.868+05:30

With the festival of colors barely four days from now, the kids in my colony never had it better. Especially since my ample posterior literally cries out to them, begging them to perfect their water-balloon target throwing skills upon it. And the obliging souls that they are, they obviously can’t say no to such a sincere request. The lil devils, armed to the teeth with their stash of ‘missiles,’

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-65926574212955375052011-03-03T16:17:00.001+05:302011-03-03T16:18:49.795+05:30

Haven’t you ever been at your wit’s end because that pesky colleague right across the corridor / sometimes-friend-sometimes-foe puts the “W” in Whining?Constantly cribbing, their kind ensures that no one in their vicinity of a kilometer forgets that their life is the saddest, most bleak, utterly-devoid-of-rays-of-sunshine, yada yada. For them no day is perfect – it is either too hot, too cold,

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-31640521877905976792011-02-14T16:14:00.004+05:302011-02-14T16:40:56.430+05:30

It all started with a soft beep last night. My cell had just received a message.Nothing extraordinary about it – I receive a fair share of messages everyday. Except that this one came from a person who I had not been in touch with for ages.A saccharine-sweet, threatening-to-give-diabetes-to-me message unfolded right in front of my eyes, much to my surprise.And then it dawned upon me - the clock

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-1711934361872363352011-02-11T09:14:00.001+05:302011-02-11T09:16:38.139+05:30

There is another four letter word that has people working up a sweat: S-A-L-E. Palpably excited, short on patience people make their way pell-mell to the nearest mall – lured no doubt by the colourful advertisements that stare up at them from newspapers, glossies, web pages. Heck – even mobile phones are not spared, what with announcements of discounts appearing regularly on them. Gaily

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-28421369992197058382011-02-04T08:59:00.003+05:302011-02-04T09:05:50.305+05:30

What is one of the most enduring images that you associate with T-shirts?Or even with posters for that matter?Chances are that 4 out of 5 people would say Che Guevara, the Argentine guerrilla leader, who under Fidel Castro’s leadership, led revolutionaries to a Cuban invasion. Synonymous with rebellion, adventure, and independence, Guevara strikes a chord with quite a few. However, strangely

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-7418237463806948552011-01-19T11:22:00.007+05:302011-01-25T15:46:36.257+05:30

If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, We’d walk right up to heaven, and bring YOU home again.My father-in-law, Gopal Panjwani’s true success in life was people. He understood the joy in lifting other people, bringing a smile to them, and leaving them changed in a positive way. One week back - on January 12, 2011, he was lifted from this world. This tribute is a selfish one -

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-84882294259544133382011-01-01T09:53:00.005+05:302011-01-01T10:09:43.502+05:30

My earliest recollection of midnight 2011 was a large crystal ball, psychedelic lights, a DJ spinning a spiel about the countdown, hundreds of people arm-in-arm waiting for the clock to strike 12 to swoop down on their partners in a bear hug / liplock, a troupe of Moulin Rouge dancers, a laser show and spectacular fireworks. Besides of course, a sea of freely-flowing spirits and yummy hors

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-70369705126432324512010-12-29T12:55:00.009+05:302011-01-05T19:02:45.914+05:30

While 2010 was not the year when my mind exploded with clever ideas that would have the world’s VCs tripping over each other to reach to me - arms laden with blank cheques, solitaires, keys to swanky penthouses and automobiles; it was a year which changed my world. I did develop some mental agility (which balanced my physical inertia that came with a horrid leg fracture. Sigh). With 2011 just a

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-58326401283609394762010-12-28T14:15:00.002+05:302010-12-28T14:18:55.282+05:30

I love bubble wrap. So much so that if a friend were to unwrap some new, fragile item, my hands automatically outstretch greedily for the accompanying bubble wrap. And darn those packages that arrive unaccompanied by it. Heights of cheapness!If it happens to be those sunny days when I DO get my hands on one of ‘em, I am like a kitten with a yarn of wool. Having a ball!Playfully popping the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-78819293215237482792010-12-23T12:05:00.002+05:302010-12-23T12:08:46.289+05:30

In a country that stigmatises women drinkers, I sometimes commiserate with yours truly, who truly likes to be ‘spirited’- well at least sometimes. Anyway, this blog post is not a rant against societal norms which frown upon women tipplers, but about how when they drink, both fine ‘samples’ of genders turn from silently sober to indecorously inebriated, causing a trail of frequently-displayed

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-53713209918732743872010-12-16T10:32:00.004+05:302010-12-16T10:43:13.545+05:30

If they feed me one more piece of jaggery, I swear I will gallop away... In the opposite direction, no less. These days are the official calendared days for Indian weddings, and if you think that is enough to make me - a white mare - break out into a welcome jig, you couldn’t be more wrong. I am draped in what is termed ‘choicest finery’ – but which is more like a prickly, choking piece of

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-37353453816462435582010-12-07T11:35:00.004+05:302010-12-07T11:41:41.630+05:30

Though many people claim addiction to their favourite cuppa of luke-warm cappuccino (as a much-hyped coffee house serves it), I am partial to its piping hot, humbler variant - tea. And no one makes it better than the numerous roadside tapris (stalls) that dot the highways. The stalls found at every second nook and corner of the city come a close second. The humble tapri / dhaba chai, priced at a

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-24414717573856020272010-11-30T11:36:00.008+05:302010-12-01T12:39:28.095+05:30

An article about (un)wanted wedding gifts in yesterday’s national daily brought back a flood of memories from my own ‘knotty’ affair in 2009. It being mid-April, the weather was at its most-sweltering, hottest, sweatiest best. As if that were not enough, the morning after we took our vows, was dedicated to ripping the carefully-wrapped wedding presents. Some people had done an exceptionally great

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-86730610806154338502010-11-26T09:40:00.004+05:302010-11-26T10:11:04.325+05:30

The Stella Awards, synonymous with outrageous lawsuits, are guaranteed to make you raise your eyebrows, smirk at the plainly ludicrous and frivolous lawsuits slapped by many, and shake your head in disbelief when you learn that those opportunistic weirdos got greenbacks, loads of ‘them, for those same absurd claims. In 1992, a septuagenarian lady - Stella Liebeck (and you thought that women that

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-37432355334351155792010-11-15T10:05:00.002+05:302010-11-15T10:29:49.171+05:30

We walk down the street happily,This day is after all ours,When we spot a little girl crying,Suffering hunger, for no fault of hers.We stand there, shocked,As the smile soon goes off our face.Our friends are rejoicing, celebrating,And there is gloom all over this place.We know not how to react,To be happy anyway, or to feel sad.Many of us wear costly attires, But some kids are barely clad.Our

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-68152164482120355882010-11-08T16:24:00.004+05:302010-11-09T16:08:40.463+05:30

Haven’t we all been through that agonizing day, when we would give an arm and a leg to escape to an imaginary land, a getaway from that hard as nails boss / that whining co-worker / so-called friends who fail to ‘understand us,” / a pay packet that tries to equate peanuts with the Crown jewels / the relative from hell who makes the evil stepmother from Snow White look like an angel / (add your

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-82227536894615881242010-11-02T12:04:00.010+05:302010-11-02T12:27:50.558+05:30

Sample this: Person 1 - ‘Ohh, I’m glad to hear he was able to come and sort out the issue at your place. Good friends are hard to come by. Does he stay someplace nearby?’ Person 2 – ‘Yeah, he stays right on my backside.’Person 1 (Chuckling) (All this while, thinking of the abovementioned friend, who probably had a certificate course in glue-management under his smart belt...What else could

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-50237094631391741412010-10-27T16:37:00.006+05:302010-10-27T16:47:51.589+05:30

A 20-minute trip in Delhi Metro’s Ladies Coach yesterday proved to be quite an enjoyable ride indeed. The occasion being Karwa Chauth, I even saw a couple of women blowing at their hands to dry the intricate henna some pavement artisan had no doubt painstakingly applied. The women looked happy - sharing anecdotes, sitting comfortably with one another, their oversized bags lying languidly on the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-40601585700996283942010-10-14T13:33:00.004+05:302010-10-14T15:11:27.413+05:30

After the 12-day extravaganza that was the Commonwealth Games will come to an end today, do you think Delhi will relapse to its pre-Commonwealth days?The changes in these last few months have been tremendous - from refurbished roads, lined with shrubs that miraculously appeared out of nowhere at all, to new flyovers, the Metro dotting more stations on its routes, the swanky T3 Terminal, facelifts

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-39852451593803855592010-10-08T10:42:00.002+05:302010-10-08T10:45:40.598+05:30

Another Indian reality show kicked off last Sunday. Well into its fourth season, this time the show boasts of a bratty Bollywood actor host, known equally for his antics off screen as on it. 14 inmates, ranging from an erstwhile woman dacoit, a former mastermind thief credited with numerous daring robberies, a cross-dressing TV chat who is a neighoring country’s answer to Oprah Winfrey, the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-39971239616895693862010-09-28T09:49:00.005+05:302010-09-28T10:14:29.402+05:30

Stoically, the school kid marches in his shining black shoesBrushed vigorously by a doting maid the previous nightHe sees a puddle, side-steps it smartly, groans - Wishing his new shoes weren’t so tight The old beggar spots the waiting carHe shuffles towards it, begging bowl in handOne brown, one grey shoe shod on each footHe stops a while to shake out some sand The demure girl wraps her shawl

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-4989555742814414912010-09-14T11:12:00.005+05:302010-09-14T11:24:47.471+05:30

I have a deep-rooted fascination for doctors’ tables, chairs, and medical devices and / or tools. It all started when I was a child, and while on visits to family chemists or doctors, would ask for those little notepads, one-rupee Stic pens, and keychains – a staple of pharmaceutical companies. Hell hath no fury than me separated from my “booty”, so much so that glistening tears would well up in

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-11666211110099477822010-09-06T10:59:00.001+05:302010-09-06T11:34:23.449+05:30

The other day, I happened to be in the restroom of a plush South Delhi hotel where a known Emcee was speaking with a couple of her friends. They were like any other giggling, late-twenty somethings - sharing some light moments, powdering their noses, exchanging notes about the new salon in town, making plans for the upcoming weekend etc. Nothing singular in that. So far, so good. Which is why, it

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-33052934292391825692010-08-31T13:58:00.003+05:302010-08-31T14:02:28.956+05:30

Lagi shart? (Wanna bet?)This seemingly innocuous question has led many a person to lay a wager. On the most trivial of issues. Ranging from money to treats at the expense of the loser, such bets are known to cause glee / grief to quite a few who indulge in them.I am no exception, and on more occasion than one, have had to to shell out bucks for a coffee treat, or on those rare occasions, clapped

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-5962630704295701102010-08-17T19:14:00.004+05:302010-08-17T19:39:04.466+05:30

It was heartening to see the numerous kites that dotted the sky the entire day this Sunday. Even some of those people, the ones who call themselves uber-busy, took time out to fly those gaily-colored creations, and were joined as one in one ritualistic celebration of our country’s Independence Day. While the evening looked overcast and not very conducive to kite flying, the multitude of

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-36151353840830861372010-08-09T16:10:00.003+05:302010-08-09T16:17:16.103+05:30

‘Shaken, not stirred’ – a smooth voice booms in the watering hole. You don’t need to scratch your head. God knows that you’ve heard the catchphrase long enough times to know that the world’s most celebrated spy is standing right behind you. You can visualize him clearly – suave, dressed in an impeccable Saville-Row suit, an Omega Seamaster adorning his wrist, and an Aston Martin waiting for his

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-39438072770932247182010-07-22T16:24:00.008+05:302010-07-22T16:42:12.750+05:30

The flashy red car screeched to a halt, the 20-something college student pursing his lips in resentment at having missed the 60-second green pass at the traffic signal below the flyover. It was a scorching June evening, and despite the effective air-conditioning in his car, he would have to wait an 'agonizing' 180 seconds before he could take a speedy right turn and zoom towards his

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-61049406480051177422010-07-17T11:54:00.006+05:302010-07-18T11:49:14.405+05:30

My particularly vengeful bout of conjunctivitis could put the cheesy Red-eyed Terminator to shame, what with the redness in my eyes clearly surpassing its inset LED. But the similarity ends here - while the cyborg was on an unstoppable mission to 'terminate' a certain Sarah Connor, I on the other hand, long for normal un-blurry vision - when newspapers, television and the silver screen could see

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-91258899166167623332010-07-08T13:29:00.002+05:302010-07-08T13:33:33.175+05:30

Ahh, the sheer thrill of being on air. A couple of weeks back, hubby and I pulled up outside our home, keeping the car lights out except the one that lit up the dial, turning down the radio knob, and willing the phone to ring. It did, putting us live on a local radio station, where we matched our wits with the spunky Radio Jockey. After the thoroughly enjoyable 3-minute plus conversation, we were

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-60652846332406819592010-06-29T12:05:00.005+05:302010-06-29T12:18:03.205+05:30

The other day, on my way to work, I saw a 20-something girl beating the daylights out of a similarly-aged boy. Though I was at a distance, I could easily fathom that what could have been a minor lovers’ tiff had done a volte-face, taking an ugly turn. The boy stood apologetically with hands folded, looking beseechingly at his lady love, who in turn, looked in no mood for any compassion. She stood

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-39559130967130237082010-06-14T14:55:00.022+05:302010-06-18T10:35:31.430+05:30

Pinocchio has some stiff competition...We’ve all heard a few, or in some cases, more than a fair share of classic white-lies. Hell, we’ve perhaps also indulged in spouting quite a few, haven't we?See if the following sound familiar:‘Hey, what a freakish coincidence – I was just gonna call you.’ (When you are clenching your fist and berating yourself for not knowing the fine difference between

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-28600160993115348852010-06-10T12:02:00.009+05:302010-06-11T15:15:53.833+05:30

In a country famed for its festival-dotted calendar, June stands out as something of an anomaly, affording no relief from the drudgery of five-(or in some cases, six) day working weeks. This of course translates into a grumpy state of mind for me, known otherwise as a sunny-tempered soul. So, it was after a lot of arm-twisting by a goof, oops, good friend – KB, that I rubbed my eyes and woke up

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-62847657494148720562010-06-02T16:41:00.010+05:302010-06-04T09:07:14.597+05:30

Twenty years back, people would collect coins and stamps. Today, in a world where promotional campaigns hand you free sample stuff by the dozen, the average freebie lover couldn’t have asked for more. There are however those who take this passion for giveaways to an altogether low, I mean – high. What else can explain a 40-something lady queuing-up for the gratis 30 ml bottle of shampoo which she

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-72885479471677101712010-05-27T12:33:00.011+05:302010-05-27T16:50:50.155+05:30

Put two perfectly independent standalone words together, and you have all the trappings for a potential debacle. Case in question – the words ‘match’ and ‘make.’Place them adjacently in a sentence, and the result is guaranteed to induce one or all these symptoms - unbridled squirming in the seat, characteristic awkwardness, cringing, and a flood of painful memories that make you wince each time

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-82088832049245757702010-05-15T22:52:00.014+05:302010-05-15T23:23:47.288+05:30

Cooped-up at home courtesy a nasty leg fracture in Amsterdam, I have two unsolicited things to deal with - a lot of free time on my hands and a state of agonizing, seemingly-eternal immobility. To say that I’m exasperated to the core, would be putting it a tad too mildly. To while away my time, I rely upon diligently leafing through newspapers, pamphlets, magazines, and the odd novel, hoping they

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-30959374675867162672010-05-05T15:56:00.003+05:302010-05-05T16:00:19.806+05:30

Holed up in a tiny room in Ber Sarai, Ravi came to Delhi a year ago to prepare himself for the Civil Services exam. Along the same lines, Abhishek Kumar came to Delhi from Allahabad to groom himself for the civil services exam and that is when he picked up the habit of spending the evening at the square. After all, after spending twelve to thirteen hours cooped up in a constricting space, this

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-58967442311389812362010-05-03T13:01:00.006+05:302010-05-05T16:13:15.268+05:30

Many years back, I’d seen a legendary Bollywood actor croon sweet nothings to an actress (known for her famed portrayal of an embittered hippie), while on a Venetian gondola. The image stayed with me all these years, ensuring that Venice remained a much-dreamt-about locale for me. So it was only expected that when hubby and I were short listing possible vacay spots to bring in one year of wedded

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-54219684598516177582010-04-09T11:06:00.003+05:302010-04-09T11:14:50.678+05:30

Last year, on the same date as today, I had posted a short post (quite unlike my rambling sorts), about a hiatus from my blogging. This year too, it is time to kiss my trusty laptop bye and place my writing on pause mode. So while it was the city of Lovers last year, this year is the land of gondolas and gelatos, pizzas and Prada, Carnival masks, cappuccinos, Chianti and Cavalli, Versace and

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-47245997345177330002010-04-07T12:09:00.003+05:302010-04-07T12:12:41.091+05:30

The other day I saw a guy walk past me nonchalantly, a bright tie in harmony with his otherwise sombre shirt, both colors offsetting each other to perfection.While on any other day I would have looked aside, that day I took a different course of action – craning my head to give him a second glance. Let me assure you though – the guy was no Brad Pitt look-alike. Far from it. But yes, he sure

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-22137187992564172002010-04-01T14:35:00.006+05:302010-04-09T10:15:51.153+05:30

I’m a successful real estate agent. Apparently I round up gullible clients and take them on twenty-kilometre-drives through the dusty by lanes of the city. I then charm my way through their pockets, making them pay through their nose for just about average apartments. It also appears that I moonlight as a Post-doctoral researcher, glasses perched over my nose. I often test my vocal chords (and

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-59694964668842945502010-03-19T16:01:00.005+05:302010-03-19T16:11:37.110+05:30

As is wont, post-dinner and a recap of the day’s news bulletin, last night hubby and I began our nightly schedule – walking, that is (What did you think?). We were barely into our second round of the neighborhood park when we spotted a glittering string of fairy lights making its way slowly, strains of a decidedly loud sound system accompanying the light show. A wedding procession - groom in tow

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-72031286679161922212010-03-15T16:52:00.007+05:302010-03-15T17:25:50.627+05:30

You are at your workplace. Bladder bursting, you trot to the restroom on your floor. Alas! Both are occupied. You wait (im)patiently, tapping your foot to distract yourself from that all those waves of pressure that are hitting you. Causing your toe to curl, and you to cast woebegone looks at the doors. Your bladder threatens to embarrass you any second now, and you wish you had a couch where you

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-51343897037080302812010-03-08T17:16:00.005+05:302010-03-08T17:26:11.357+05:30

A little over seven hours ago, a number of women walked into our already flooded-with-pink workplace (thanks to a communiqué that went out on Friday requesting women to dress in pink) - the occasion being International Women’s Day. Despite some fiercely independent-thinking women (me included) who pooh-poohed this conditioned reinforcing of feminine roles and gender-specific color coding pattern,

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-34141202024381944322010-03-05T16:15:00.007+05:302010-03-05T16:30:08.697+05:30

There it was again – another sleep-inducing, farewell email from a fellow colleague, who had no doubt done a not-so-neat cut-copy-paste routine from his predecesor not so long ago. I dissed it, barely glancing at what I knew would have read somewhat like this:Hi All / Dear Friends, With mixed feelings of happiness and sorror (yeah right!), finally the time has come for me to bid you a fond

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-47867934997011340422010-02-25T17:19:00.003+05:302010-02-25T17:25:01.258+05:30

I deserved a pat on the back. Despite the nip in the air last Saturday morning, I had done the unthinkable - swapped loyalties from my bed for a train journey to Jaipur. So while most people lay swaddled in their cozy mink blankets, two eager beavers – Mum and I, set out on our Jaipur jaunt.The 4-hour something journey was uneventful, patterned with both us girls nodding off in unison, only to be

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-12086232366765327062010-02-22T14:27:00.002+05:302010-02-22T14:32:46.384+05:30

I grew up on a regular diet of books. You could call me your regular bookworm. However, there was one stack of books I never did touch - my brother’s collection of horror novels (No he wasn’t a bookworm, he just kept them to keep me from fiddling in his shelf). The only ghost I could see without scaring people half to death with my bloodcurdling scream, was Casper. And he didn’t really count –

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-13220273287787543292010-02-12T11:26:00.008+05:302010-02-12T12:07:31.113+05:30

A well-heeled patron of the gym that I am an (in)frequent member of, had his picture splashed over Monday’s daily supplement. There he was, flashing his pearlies, arm-in-arm wth wifey dearest, bringing in his birthday in style. In style, it certainly must have been, as a host of tinseltown celebs, P3 regulars and the ubiquitous blowing-kisses-at-the-camera PYTs had all decided to pop in to wish

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-5011510134992045582010-02-02T13:00:00.003+05:302010-02-02T13:06:18.260+05:30

There it was – nestled comfortably between the spangled saree and the paisley paperbag it came packed in. Nothing about it was inconspicuous – it stood out like a sore thumb.Rupees 2800 only – it declared proudly in italicised letters. This wasn’t the first time that some no-doubt ‘well-meaning’ friend / relative had done the unforgivable – left the price tag on a gift. Not only does it look

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-14557668039314243602010-01-22T12:05:00.006+05:302010-01-22T12:11:52.537+05:30

It's a grey, wintry day. The sun has decided to go into hibernation behind the gloomy clouds. And the steaming cup of hazelnut cappucino looks up at me invitingly, the aroma of greshly ground coffee beans wafting towards my happy nose.I cup my hands around it, taking in its warmth, and then with one hand, lift it towards my soon-to-be-gratified mouth. This is where I freeze, purse my lips, and

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-30744771901804764822010-01-14T16:18:00.002+05:302010-01-15T07:04:44.132+05:30

Another freezing day set in. While some drizzle the previous day had fueled thoughts about the fog clearing out and biting cold taking a beating, such thoughts couldn’t be more far from what lay ahead.People, who would rub their hands only when it was accompanied by chuckles of pure glee, looked the exact opposite – glumly staring ahead,shivering despite the expensive woollens that adorned their

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-40529336376178186352010-01-06T11:40:00.004+05:302010-01-06T11:49:01.384+05:30

While the verdict is yet to be decided by corporates as to whether employees decorating their workstations is a good or a not-so-good idea, many an employee does decorate, or pardon me, upgrade his workstation, so that dusty Dilli becomes some cool Caribben island – thanks to the aqua recycled wrapping sheet that abounds near him. So while you have a Mister who prefers to line up his awards and

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-13139653703444093702010-01-01T22:22:00.004+05:302010-01-01T22:34:07.741+05:30

The New Year set upon us today – a cold, foggy morning. While TOOMA and I spent much of the morning doing what we do best – catching up on our respective beauty sleep, the rest of the world embraced the spanking new 2010 shiveringly, a song and a smile set upon their lips, fingers deftly texting messages – some forwarded, some their own creation, while phones – that most definitive of

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-53577866830630570102009-12-31T09:50:00.006+05:302009-12-31T10:11:16.592+05:30

Looking back at my loooong list of Resolutions that I’d laid down for this year, I can safely say I haven’t fared all that badly. For one, I learnt how to drive – not into a ditch or into the pair of wheels ahead – but reasonably well. Cooking however still remains to be an area of skill I haven’t been too ‘driven’ towards. I also got married – not that it was on my list of Resolutions. But since

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-27615772870399017322009-12-22T11:43:00.005+05:302009-12-22T12:01:50.239+05:30

Take a look around - couples are aplenty – walking hand in hand at the park, learning how to groove to the salsa, grocery-shopping, at the mall, at clubs, sweating it out in a queue outside the theatre, haggling with the roadside vendor – in short – everywhere.Yet despite their ubiquity, couples are all different – the Laurel and Hardy sorts, the volcanic and placid sorts, the master-slave

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-13990462440720750232009-12-15T15:39:00.002+05:302009-12-15T15:48:52.951+05:30

What would it feel to have a gun to your head? Not a routine question, I’d say. Now, lest my asking the above question gets me a permanent spot in the sadist bracket, let me spell out that this is just some rudimentary digging by me into assessing which other scenarios are equally sweaty-palm inducing and downright terrifying for people. So while it could be a seemingly innocuous lobster floating

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-37456472041154636232009-12-01T20:27:00.003+05:302009-12-01T20:32:09.074+05:30

What can I say about people who, whether intentionally or otherwise, point you in the opposite direction from your intended destination?That they are evil. Besides being inaccurate, of course. The irony is that some genuinely want to help – but fail, despite their noblest of intentions...Could it be perhaps that bred in an urban culture that considers not offering to ‘help’ an improper and

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-28757761432829286972009-11-17T19:18:00.003+05:302009-11-17T19:22:16.736+05:30

The world is divided into two categories – those who can dance, and those who can’t.And yet, we have hordes who cannot accept that they really weren’t meant to be in the sequel to Saturday Night Fever. Despite their all-too-clear case of two left feet, they insist on showing off to all and sundry that they are best fit to be head trainers for the advanced dance class at the posh studio in the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-29253064803550849282009-11-03T12:22:00.003+05:302009-11-03T12:26:39.343+05:30

November announced itself with a bang this Sunday. Quite literally!Bringing with it an unmistakable nip, and of course the arrival of the Delhi Half Marathon - an event I had signed up for like a true zealot. To seal the deal, in case I did decide to look the other way, and sleep through the deliciously cool Sunday morning, I had also registered Daddy Dearest - an avid runner. There really was no

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-69428866849727321482009-10-24T19:30:00.006+05:302009-10-24T19:49:33.186+05:30

My trusty online dictionary describes a quirk as a ‘peculiarity of action, behavior, or personality.’ While the origins of the word are hidden somewhere in the realms of foggy land, quite a few amongst us, ACTUALLY strike that out – many of us, do have the odd behavior pattern, which might mystify, baffle, hell even, amuse us. And the weirdest part is – most of the times we can’t even fathom why

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-25958532156344859182009-10-15T20:38:00.004+05:302009-10-15T20:52:05.550+05:30

I’ve been bitten by the flu literally. And it’s not what you think. This is a different flu altogether. So while for some people, it does have the characteristic symptoms associated with that rhyming named flu, namely – a dry mouth (manageable), upset stomach (uh oh), a heaving sensation (Ewww), a throbbing head (Sheesh), and general feeling of irritated sweatiness (Gawd), for more ‘seasoned’

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-22150618791198463852009-10-09T20:50:00.003+05:302009-10-09T20:54:42.241+05:30

Barring the odd Kings and Queens of small talk, most of us fall into the latter category of people who are anything but adept at small talk. There are the hugely-annoying sorts too though, who sniff you out, and then starts the barrage of queries, much to your chagrin. So Ms Nosy Parker sails into a lift, drowning you in a sea of cheap perfume – your ears are subsequently assailed by the volley

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-34993260902208270612009-10-02T17:03:00.006+05:302009-10-02T17:26:29.502+05:30

A picture speaks a thousand words, someone said. I’ll say it does two thousand! Phew!There are two kinds of people in this world – those who like to splash their vacation pictures all over the sun and moon, and gush on and on in that nauseating monotone about the verdant mountains / scenic beach they visited for summer. Not to mention the cute ‘friend’ they hooked up with. And those pesky sorts

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-72690714772751683602009-09-15T23:35:00.005+05:302009-09-16T08:00:41.921+05:30

Barring that illegible doctor’s scrawl in the prescription, I can’t think of too many handwritings I get to see these days. Save perhaps my Mum’s printed handwriting in one of her letters. Or hastily scribbled forms. Or neatly signed cheques. But such cases are less and far in between. Of course there was the much-publicized hand-written letter by Barrack Obama in May this year, to the openly

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-24465217343945796392009-09-09T21:47:00.004+05:302009-09-09T21:52:17.747+05:30

One look at my petite grandmother, and it would have perhaps been difficult to imagine that her fragile structure once housed a remarkable, razor mind, but which life had debilitated. And now, fate has taken her away. Nani Ma, as we fondly referred to her – ensured that on our annual winter vacations, my brother and I were sunny-tempered children – a stark contrast to the grumpy / bratty sorts

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-25156258725916922402009-09-01T15:18:00.003+05:302009-09-01T15:24:50.670+05:30

A good friend won a spanking new car yesterday. In a lucky draw, no less. I, on the other hand, am the current promoter of the ‘I’ll-never-win-anything-at-the-lottery/raffle/lucky-draw-club.' Come to think of it, I probably will land up as chairing it too, considering my dry spell. People try to console me that they haven’t won anything super-cool themselves. But what can explain this good friend

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-80036339551445448152009-08-24T11:48:00.006+05:302009-08-24T21:03:56.508+05:30

Considering the number of passwords I struggle to remember, it’s a wonder that the three odd grey strands of hair on my recently-turned 29 year-old crop of hair, haven’t multiplied by now. And since I haven’t started colouring them, I can’t even attribute them to some ‘because-you’re-worth-it’ snooty hair colour brand that so many whom I know, are patrons of. Of course, there are those who never

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-91712305411585753462009-08-11T21:41:00.002+05:302009-08-11T21:44:42.805+05:30

Agreed that there is probably no better pleasure in scratching that part of your body which is itching like crazy (next perhaps only to releasing your full bladder). Which probably explains why so many people can be seen holding a magazine over their ahem…and getting down to business. You also have the ones who refuse to take ‘refuge’ behind the pages of some glossy, and scratch furiously in full

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-79972268835799785792009-08-04T21:47:00.004+05:302009-08-05T15:40:45.964+05:30

Why women need bags (and big ones at that) is beyond the comprehension of most men. I don’t blame them for their unawareness - simple, uncomplicated people that they are. On a typical day, your average guy leaves with three things – his wallet, phone and keys. And maybe a handkerchief. That's all they need, and they cant go wrong with them. Women on the other hand, need their emergency survival

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-41981063406995591582009-07-31T16:15:00.002+05:302009-07-31T16:19:45.969+05:30

While I can’t really term myself a morning person, there are those days when I do have to venture out (and not with a jug of water into the nearby bushes, as you may suppose). And these mornings are the time that afford me with a very compelling, entertaining glimpse (and sometimes a gawk), at the diverse set of people who have taken it upon their heads to ‘walk’ their way to good health. Walk to

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-33709482728489145112009-07-24T23:22:00.002+05:302009-07-24T23:25:04.897+05:30

Travel – the very word conjures images of never-before seen places, the sun beaming its rays on scenic landscapes, exotic food, a vast array of local eateries, a diverse crowd, currency notes of different denominations, and maybe the odd map. Whatever it may be, and whether you choose a comfy Boeing, a humbler bus, or that perennial fixture – the rail - the excitement that builds up while making

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-85864145314594866112009-07-18T18:31:00.006+05:302009-07-20T09:43:16.155+05:30

One thing is inevitable. People will always grumble about the weather.So when you have beads of perspiration running down your eye brows / trickling down your cheeks, you arch those very same brows with displeasure, declaring how the darn heat makes you feel like melted cheese, minus the appealing image that conjures itself up from one of the restobar menus. Any moment, and you would probably

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-19008097110618074622009-07-13T22:00:00.008+05:302009-07-14T07:42:39.369+05:30

While nothing would normally work better at getting me out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning than an 8-hour voucher at a swish spa, there are aberrations to even this rule of thumb. Leaving TOOMA* (pleasantly) surprised and marveling at to how his generally materialistic and surgically-inoperable-from-retail-therapy wifey has a slightly altruistic side to her too.The feeling is tough to put into

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-87338026072632597832009-07-07T21:03:00.008+05:302009-07-07T21:36:47.416+05:30

The recent verdict of the Delhi High Court to legalise homosexuality has opened up a veritable can of worms. While it comes as a breather and a personal sense of triumph to gay activists, who hope it will trigger a fundamental sea of change in societal attitude towards gays, lesbians, and transgenders, and afford them a much-needed life of dignity and equal rights, all is not ‘consensual’ though.

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-79731184001923652362009-06-30T22:11:00.006+05:302009-06-30T22:35:21.558+05:30

My love affair with perfumes has been around for many years now. It all started when I, all of five / six, would sniff like an eager beaver at the exquisitely beautiful sea-green bottle of French perfume that sat prettily on my Mum’s dressing table. Evenings, when she would take her customary shower, she would sometimes spritz some of its divine contents onto her wrists, and since I would

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-84934678515443249862009-06-26T11:55:00.003+05:302009-06-26T12:02:59.138+05:30

Since the time he burst on the music scene, he had people tapping to his chartbusters, trying to replicate his inimitable moonwalking and robot technique, doing a karaoke to his high-pitched tenor. His popularity index spanned generations – I should know – my Mum and I would both karaoke with equal gusto to his tenor (I must confess that my Mum was better). Last night, Michael Jackson – virtuoso

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-81542478847889814412009-06-17T12:18:00.008+05:302009-06-26T12:00:27.744+05:30

My first memories of TGIF are of my skipping along Connaught Place’s Inner Circle, playing with the columns, and standing to stare outside a bar (at that time, we were unfamiliar with the words pub / watering holes / lounge), painted in red and white stripes. Music wafted from the inside, as did a delicious aroma of what were probably potatoes in melted cheese. Slurrrrrrp! A steady stream of

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-16128002781918144002009-06-15T17:11:00.004+05:302009-06-16T12:49:48.017+05:30

Most of us might have dreams. (Barring perhaps stray cases like my best friend who swears that he does not dream while sleeping. But then, he has been known to stretch the truth sometimes, so uhmmm...)To make it simpler, let's just say that a majority of people DO dream. Hell, some of us even daydream, don't we?The ones blessed with acute memories recollect vivid details, some remember in bits

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-53492407657375978482009-06-11T17:11:00.006+05:302009-06-11T19:17:21.680+05:30

It probably began when we were kids. Your neighborhood playmate was the same age as you - the ripe, impressionable age of 5. Vacay time, the sun was yet to give way to the moon; he / she came to you and piped-up, ‘What do you wanna play?’To which you, bored stiff with playing with the regular dolls, kitchen sets, tanks, what say you, replied, ‘Doctor Doctor khelein?’ (Should we play Doctor Doctor

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-68924303472742174002009-06-08T16:35:00.002+05:302009-06-08T16:39:12.242+05:30

They could probably put Michael Jackson and his moon walking out of business, the way they can immortalize those words, ‘I’m Bad.’ The Joker. Voldemort. Hannibal Lecter. Darth Vader. Count Dracula. Agent Smith. The Terminator. Goldfinger. Closer home – Gabbar Singh, Mogambo, Langda Tyagi, Dr. Dang, Shakaal, Kesariya Vilayti, Prem (ironically). The list is endless. They make viewers sit up -

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-61921100622542259882009-06-01T15:54:00.004+05:302009-06-01T16:38:20.432+05:30

The eternal love triangle looks all set to give away one of its corners. Archie Andrews, he of the trademark carrot-hair and ample freckles dotting his impish face, is all prepped to pop the question. And it’s gonna happen as soon as this August / September.While he has long dithered from doing so, keeping his readers guessing for over 60 years, this time the iconic teen cartoon feels he is ready

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-41372728067247545582009-05-24T10:53:00.008+05:302009-05-24T11:01:29.878+05:30

With the blistering heat wave hovering revoltingly over the heads of Delhiites, anyone who heard that we were going outstation for the weekend nodded in understanding.Until they heard the destination we were headed for. 'Jaipur???' Hearing that was enough to raise perfectly-arched eyebrows, followed by ‘Are you feakin' kiddin?’ incredulous comments and accompanying eye-popping looks. Now our

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-69448079533821972712009-05-14T16:36:00.006+05:302009-05-14T16:46:41.044+05:30

The April impasse between Indian multiplex owners and Bollywood producers over sharing box office releases doesn’t look like it would dissolve in a hurry. The better part of my last month was spent in wedding arrangements, zooming off for the honeymoon, relinquishing dates for quieter, at-home do's and settling into a new home and hearth. However, there is no time like now to sink into a comfy

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-14695750963692784992009-05-12T16:20:00.003+05:302009-05-12T16:25:53.187+05:30

This January 12, the entire world went into a tizzy.The reason – the Queensland State Tourism Department, in a marvellous stroke of sheer brilliance, ran full length advertisements of what it chose to describe the ‘Best job of the world.’The vacancy in question – a six-month contract that involves spending six-months on Hamilton Island (a tropical Australian island in the Great Barrier Reef), in

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-27471098960461106762009-05-07T09:50:00.006+05:302009-05-07T10:10:42.083+05:30

In a world where marriages are the defining point in your life (and I don’t disagree with that), some people definitely get carried away with its very concept. I speak with authority.I am a bride of just over a fortnight.Married to my beau of over two years, I take great pride in him and his family, who accept me the way I am – a spunky, light-hearted, twinkle-eyed, cheery bride, who still swears

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-17102627280779905172009-05-05T17:17:00.005+05:302009-05-05T23:07:59.878+05:30

My black and orange phone beeps gently. I blink, then smile, my hand reaching out to cocoon the phone.What I had thought to be a welcome message from one of my many friends who were only too glad to have me back in town, turned out to be a random contestant in the upcoming elections, citing close to seven reasons why I should exercise my franchise in his favour. The message is not in isolation.

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-8418342983521151392009-04-30T10:14:00.010+05:302009-05-01T12:29:32.648+05:30

The last few days have been a whirlwind for me literally. Dream marriage followed by a dream honeymoon. When the entire rigmarole of marriage ceremonies was over, and TOOMA and I had some breathing time finally, it was soon time to zoom off to that city of lovers – Paris. And boy! Were we not disappointed!Stylish women dressed to the nines, blowing ringlets of smoke, hailed cabs with perfectly

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-16326075867306030002009-04-09T16:54:00.003+05:302009-04-09T17:01:53.800+05:30

Lest my loyal readers think that I have sworn off blogging, or am practising my neglecting act to a ‘T,’ I should sit up straight, try a blushing-bride-shy-smile routine, fail miserably at it, and then try something else. So here it goes. With my wedding scheduled for this month for April 17, I wouldn’t be able to do justice to my blog, much as I would like to. I know that you would understand

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-74226173108835051652009-04-08T23:10:00.005+05:302009-04-08T23:16:37.505+05:30

Most people would have sat on a rollercoaster. Or at least stared at one, as it speeds dizzyingly, eliciting screams from those who are riding it. I feel I am ON a rollercoaster. An emotional one at that. The oscillating, heart-in-my-mouth-dry-throated feeling is frequent, to say the least. So you have my deliriously happy spells, interspersed with gleeful spiel by close friends, all conjuring

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-26660193665736894152009-04-07T02:02:00.003+05:302009-04-07T02:11:04.296+05:30

With this weekend being our last single weekend, TOOMA and I decided to live it up in style.So Saturday night, when all roads led to some or the other watering hole, we trotted smartly to Sevilla, an upscale Mediterranean restaurant at a centrally located luxury Hotel. A friend had only the highest praise and very positive feedback about it, which only bolstered our resolve to make it the venue

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-50208507009869538072009-04-04T03:04:00.003+05:302009-04-04T03:08:43.102+05:30

While I don’t exactly fancy a heated spat with any frowning, strait-jacketed soul about the ethical, legal and social challenges of cloning, what I wouldn’t mind at all would be getting a clone. So while the clone would sit poker-faced at my workstation, busily sending out official communiqués one after the other, the ‘original’ me would be out:1. Finishing pending shopping tasks for the

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-2980698134547871072009-04-01T16:57:00.008+05:302009-04-04T03:07:21.011+05:30

The little girl looked up adoringly at her father, as he hoisted her up onto his broad shoulders to afford her a better view of a marriage procession that trotted in accompaniment to the loud beats of a drum. She stared wonder-eyed at all the beautifully-dressed people, as they danced gaily, with full abandon, on the streets. A stray firecracker caused her to shudder involuntarily and blink

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-91481157603340051552009-03-27T01:09:00.006+05:302009-03-27T01:24:53.488+05:30

My cluttered desk at work had long been crying for attention. So a caving-in me decided to clean up my (desk) act today. Taking a deep breath, I made a half-hearted dive into the large pile of paper that had accumulated over the better part of the last two months, and which had clearly been shrieking their lungs out at me. Several minutes later, at first dazed by the volume of paper that stood

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-16362800872385797262009-03-20T15:29:00.009+05:302009-03-20T15:43:35.624+05:30

A couple of days back, while TOOMA* and I were (im)patiently waiting for the traffic signal to turn green, we chanced to espy the woman sitting at the wheel of the car on our left. With one dexterous finger, she wove in and out of her nose like the way a seasoned archaeologist spades in an excavation ground, convinced that his quest to unearth the highly sought after treasure chest was about to

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34840842.post-2993146212465642132009-03-19T16:33:00.004+05:302009-03-19T17:15:51.803+05:30

I’ve never really given a thought of how I would look after I kick the bucket, people staring at how my crows’ feet bore testimony to a life well-spent in crinkling with laughter and merriment. Or how my stiff hands that held the little posy of violets did not have French-manicured nails. Maybe because know I would get cremated, and not have a priest reading at my memorial service what an

Write Here Write Nowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11406819246335633891noreply@blogger.com3