Washroom chronicles

Hey there!!

I wrote about Wardrobe Chronicles 2 years ago…

And this time, here’s a sneak peek into the woman’s private zone…

Are you excited yet?

Well, if you think what’s so great about a woman’s lavatory, think again.

(In fact, if you DO think that there’s nothing special about a woman’s restroom, it’s all the more reason for you to read this post. Brush up on your GK, dude!! Dobara mat poochna!!)

For women, a washroom is not merely a place to freshen up, but an essential part of living… If walls had ears, the restroom walls would have been a part of the Guinness World Records for holding the most secrets…

Women crying.

Women gossiping.

Women sniggering.

Women discussing latest fashion.

Women reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

Women experimenting with new looks and make up.

I haven’t mentioned half the list yet…

Now do you see?

Now, again you would think why I’m sharing all this with you non-members of this private and beautiful zone. Am I not a woman who loves this space? I do, which is why I’m showing you just how important and exciting this place is…

Why else would a woman excuse herself to go to the washroom the minute she steps into a home, restaurant, office or club?

Men don’t do that, do they? At least not the (comparatively) macho ones that I know…

So, women obviously sit on the pot as they chat with their friends and boyfriends, either bitching or whispering sweet nothings.

Or they could be wailing coz their boss shouted on them for something that was frivolous (according to them). Maybe a boyfriend giving them grief. Or coz they were feeling unwell and some supervisor acted rude and insensitive. No dearth of reasons to cry – we’re women after all!

The powder room, as it is also called at times, is a must visit for any woman who enters a pub or workplace. (Or anywhere for that matter, if one lives in Mumbai – the sweat and muck, yuck!!)

Staring at themselves for hours in the mirror. Curling their already curled (or straightened) hair. Lining their eyes with mascara for the tenth time in 10 minutes. Painting their already shining lips. Peering at marks (both visible and invisible, real and imaginary) on the face and elsewhere. Adjusting accessories or the dupatta or the t-shirt… And once all of this done, staring at themselves from top to bottom again – a quick check to see if everything’s in order.

Being a woman isn’t an easy job, fellas! It’s a lot of hard work…

And I bet you don’t mind when you see the great outcome that steps outta the washroom. Worth the wait, right?

The venue is also a breakout zone for a gang of giggly girls who want to catch up on lost time and updates. Like who’s dating whom, who fought with whom, what’s the masala in the work world and movie world.

I know this is taking it too far, but once I even saw a girl sipping coffee as she chatted up her pals in the washroom! Takes the cake, eh? LOL.

Well, well… Women who are taking offence, pardon me. But I honestly don’t understand the concept of wasting time in the loo. The loo is meant for a particular purpose, one that I often finish in less than a minute. And when I see chics spending a good 15 minute break at work in the loo… It kinda surprises and amuses me.

And we laugh on…

Cheerio!
Princess

Fear Has A New Address

(No, not coz the festival of colors is here, and you need to watch out for sneaking eyes and peeking hands ready to douse you with rang and gulaal.... Best wishes for Holi, readers!)

Read this anonymous letter I found the other day.

Me frustrated. Me donno what to do. Me think I kill myself. Or I just die. I do no want to live. Nobody like me. Nobody need me. All think me bad person. Me care for people, people do no understand, people fight. Me get angry. Me hurt people. My life no good. Me no trouble no one still people no like me. Me brave and stubborn. Me also blunt and intelligent. So many say me good, me reach success, me capable. But me no happy. Me alone, me sad. I donno fault. How can all world be wrong? No. Me wrong. Me end life. Me got no guts, so me live on.

Interesting, eh? Especially the last line... Do you need guts to kill yourself, or do you need balls to survive?

I guess it’s that split second where you are so depressed and frustrated, that you muster all your valor to sacrifice your life. If that second passes, you’re never gona be able to do it again. So, in a way, death and life – both need courage. (Though of course, if anyone suicidal were to approach me, I’d say that suicide is for cowards, and one ought to live on to fight and overcome challenges.)

Eager to know your thoughts on this, friends and readers. And on the following points, too...

Like why a woman in power is subject to prejudice and contempt for no real reason. Why a divorced/widowed woman is looked down upon by society more critically than a male. Why a female who flirts and sleeps around is called a bitch, while a man doing the same is considered nothing abominable. Why when enjoying sex (which is logically and in reality the privilege of both genders), a woman is expected to be coy and her sole duty in bed is to satisfy her man, regardless of her own pleasures and needs. Why a woman who commits a crime evokes horror, while a man in her shoes gets the “chalta hai” gesture.

WHY??

Society assumes several things about a woman, and expects these assumptions to hold true whatever the case may be. Given the superior education, exposure, lifestyle, family and upbringing. How fair is this?? Who decided it to be this way? Why are we still falling prey to this bias? Is gender equality only a myth? True, the topmost positions in the world in all areas are held by men (and I congratulate them on that), but why cannot we tolerate vices in females, too?!! We’re all human, right?!!!

Time to cool down... So, leme tell you about how I spent my weekend. It was a good Sunday after ages (guess Women’s Day clicked for me!) I shopped for tops and tunics, watched a movie and went hookah-lounging. (My darling Scooty also got serviced, so she all sparkling and happy.)

The film I saw was 13B – Fear Has a New Address (hence the post title) starring R. Madhavan and Neetu Chandra. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the movie rated quite high on the spook factor (akin to Raaz 2, and way better than the cataclysmic Phoonk). The storyline falls short of being termed outstanding, but it is thankfully not typical like all those black magic stuff. What happens here is that Maddy’s family moves into an apartment where another close-knit, cheerful family was horrifically murdered. Crazy things start occurring, like the milk curdles each day, the pooja room cannot be furnished, the lift doesn’t work just for apna Maddy whose photographs are always distorted, etc.

A little too repetitive in the beginning, the plot unfolds as a serial starts auto-telecasting itself and the saas-bahu loving women in the family get addicted to it. (Remember Amar somebody who became famous as Mihir Virani in Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi...?? He plays the key character in the movie soap. Mighty clever of the casting director!)

To cut a long story short, the dead family members ki aatma is discontented. Though their spirits aren’t bhootiya and scary, they make sure that Maddy understands there is some major gadbad in the house. As their life unfurls on screen, the Maddy family starts experiencing identical incidents – some happy, some tragic. Finally, the hero finds out who bludgeoned the original khandan, and through him, the dead folks avenge the criminal.

I’m tempted to disclose the suspense, but I’m a good girl so I’ll spare you guys. You should go and watch it to get some goosebumps... (And some naughty, sexy yet non-sleazy banter on the Kama Sutra!) My rating – 3/5. Good job, cast and crew! (Good caramel popcorn, Inox!! AND good Jumbo Chicken, Burger King. Slurp slurp...)

A special note on Madhavan... It was wonderful to watch him on screen after ages. I still think of him as RHTDM ka adorable Maddy, or as Subbu in an old serial called Ghar Jamai (used to be aired on Sony, if I recall correctly.) He is very cute and believable as Manu (aka Manohar) in 13B, and he can pass off as endearing what would be jeered if done by someone else (like clinging to the TV and weeping). The rest of the crew doesn’t have too much to do, but the inspector who plays Maddy’s friend also presents fine acting skills.

Oh ya, I also tried the Cadbury Bournville. The TV and print ads were exaggerating exactly how phenomenal this chocolate is. I agree it's good for dark chocolate lovers, but hey! It ain't the heaven the ads promise!! Frankly, I'm disappointed... Not buying you again, buddy... At least not for myself... (and at 95 bucks, not for anyone else either!)

Cheerio!
Princess

Khabari Lal ki Khabarein

You read about updates on the media in a recent post. Now that those are outdated, here is some more fresh maal...

Does the name Abhijeet Sawant ring a bell? That’s right, he was the first Indian Idol, who launched his own music album not too long ago. (Obviously a dud, dude.) After failing to secure a firm footing on the music scene, Mr. Mohabbatein Lutaunga is now making his film debut. It’s a movie called “Lottery”, and there are two pretty damsels who are also aboard this launchpad. (No points for guessing the fate of this movie.) Incidentally, one of his dialogues in the movie, translated into English is – when fate knocks on your door, don’t complain about the noise... (Enlightening. Which is why there is no hulla-gulla about this production.)

I’ve spoken before about Lola Kutty and her brilliant General Knowledge show on Channel V. The Mallu babe goes about the country asking people some seemingly simple stuff (WOWOWOW... 4 s’s in a row! Isn’t that called “alliteration” in Figures of Speech? Grammar learnt in school sure stays forever!)

Astonishingly most folks on her show can’t answer, and often times, me neither. Here are a few that I saw on a recent show... (Ready to test those grey cells?) Who’s the youngest MP in India? Who’s our current Home Minister? What’s our national fruit? What’s the second largest religion in India? (The first is obviously Hinduism.)

The answers (coz I hate unfinished and ambiguous stuff) in the order asked : Milind Deora, P. Chidambaram, Mango, Islam (not Muslim, fatheads!)

I also saw an interview that funny Ms. Kutty did with AB junior and Sonam Kapoor for Delhi 6. (I hope you know the name is so titled coz the pin code of Chandni Chowk is Delhi 110006. Of course, the movie isn't really shot there, impossible to shoot among the hustle and bustle.)

Also learnt some facts on MTV Dance Crew (where Uma is now teaching Anusha to boogie on Thriller by MJ). I found out that Michael Jackson, the king of yesteryear and inspiration of many, debuted when he was 11, and he has won 13+ awards (including the Guinness award) for being such an amazing singer-dancer-entertainer. Hats, off! Aaauuuuuu... (Not the Shakti Kapoor wala... Though this one, too, needs to be accompanied with a pelvis thrust, with one hand on the you-know-where.)

A very heartbreaking news for all you guys - The stuff that your fantasies are made of, is now officially married. Salma Hayek. THE Salma Hayek has married her French sweetheart, who is the father of her year old daughter. Best wishes!! And cheers to Tara Sharma, now 4 months pregnant. (I just hope her kid doesn't inherit mamma's voice. Cackle!)

That’s that about TV. Speaking about books... I’m still at the Drona Parva in the Mahabharata; got tons to do besides reading. (Ya, studies plus other chores at home coz mum’s traveling yet again, and so are bro-bhabhi.) I’ve reached almost the end of this section though, and now, Karna takes over as Senapati of the Kaurava army after Drona dies.

Other updates... I know this sounds crazy, but I need to go shopping. (I mean after all my rant about 70 tops and Ts and over 20 salwar suits, whoever thought I’d want to step inside a clothes store and spend a dime!!) But I should. It’s high time I scrapped the stuff I haven’t worn in 2+ years.

I keep thinking I’ll get an opportunity to wear them sometime or the other, but that isn’t happening. Better I give them away, and get clothes more suited to my current needs. Emotional attachments to be placed on the back-burner coz there are sales on everywhere. (Unfortunately, that’s not much use coz the stuff I like is either not on sale, or the discount is negligible as compared to the atrocious price. Darn!)

Sad, na... But what’s sadder is that I went to the loo at Symphony and Zaha and the one Q on my mind was - WHY don’t people FLUSH??

I haven’t told you about Symphony before – it’s this restobar/restaurant bang opposite Kiva (which you know is my favorite wine and dine place behind E-square). I went to Symph a decade ago with my family and hated it, but when I went the last 2 times with friends, it was a chill-out place. Great music, exciting menu. The crowd and pricing could be better, but that doesn’t stop the establishment from being over-occupied on weekends by students and professionals alike.

Anyway, the point is, people need lessons in hygiene and good living. If only everyone would read and follow my post on cleanliness, the world (or at least India) would be so much better to inhabit or visit...

Power of the blogosphere, unleash thyself!!

In reverent prayer,
Princess

Jhola Clutter

What do you carry with you when you go out?

Probably your cell-phone, keys and wallet. And perhaps a jacket, coz it’s cold these days. And if you’re a woman, then add other paraphernalia like lipstick, moisturizer, compact, and so on and so forth.

I carry my jhola. What’s a jhola, you ask?

Ahem...

Leme try.

It’s a sling bag kinda thing that you wear on your shoulder. Something that initially journalists used to carry, and then it started coming in a variety of colors and artwork so it became a huge hit with the teenagers as well. While khadi dominated the scene then, now jholas are mostly found in exquisite Rajasthani prints with chamki (=glitter).

That was the easy part. Now comes the challenge. Describing what it means to me, and unfolding its contents and uses.

My jhola’s an extension of my personality. (Ya, I know I said this blog is also one of those. But you see, everything I do is very ME...) So, my jhola - I can’t live without it. Anywhere I go, my jhola goes with me. For the last 4+ years. Be it Optimos where my colleagues identified me with the chhan-chhan of my anklet and the sparkle of my glittering jhola, or college where I carried a bunch of sheets with a pen to take lengthy Psych notes.

The market’s full of shops and boutiques that sell trendy ladies bags in all colors and sizes. I’m amazed at my Bhabi who recently returned from a shopping spree with a Dalmatian-shaded purse and huge black and gold handbag! Eww... Not my type by a long shot...

Come to think of it, I cannot remember ever having been an out-and-out feminine creature at any point in my life. I have those few recollections when I have enjoyed getting decked up in finery for some occasions and celebrations (like my brother’s wedding for instance, when jeans and tops were forsaken for heavy brocades and expensive silks). But otherwise, ask my friends and colleagues, and they’ll scratch their heads when asked to recall the last time I wore a Punjabi dress.

I’ve always been a tomboy. No nakhras-jhatkas for me. Right from my no-nonsense hairstyle to my clothes to my mannerisms. (That was the case until fairly recently. Then, God knows how and when and why, I changed my ways and started buying more lady-like dresses and acting more womanish. Grew my hair, started wearing earrings. Some crazy hormonal change, I guess... Anyway, I’m not complaining. And from what I can see, no one else is, either!)

But hey, weren’t we talking about my jhola?

Right, so my jhola is my inseparable possession. What’s in it? Well, not much. It holds my purse and keys, my Vaseline lip-balm and comb (leme peep in and check what else...) Uhh... ya, a pen at times, and that’s about it.

Oh! My cell-phone (how can I forget that?!) and maybe a lip-gloss depending on where am headed. And as I ride a bike, it is also big enough to accommodate my jacket and scarf. That’s all.

(That IS all, I said...)

The best part about carrying a jhola is that it’s trendy and practical at the same time. I can wear it diagonally as I walk fast to get someplace, and I can hold it fashionably by the side as I hang out at a coffee bar. When you’re lost among strangers, a jhola gives you the perfect excuse to dive in and search fervidly for nothing at all for a precious 5 minutes. And when you’re trying to act cool, you can finger the strap and just look around...

A jhola NEVER lets you down. Trust me.

The moment I put my hand in my jhola (just about 15 times an hour), you know I’m spinning in the abyss of mystery. On no account can I find what I want. If I’m looking for my cell, out comes my comb, and if I’m searching for my keys, out peeps the Vaseline. It’s basically something like Ali Baba’s potli (did he have one? Or was it someone else? Whatever... I can dimly vision “Potli baba ki” flashing on DD = Doordarshan every Sunday morning. And remember “Gucche” and “Chitrahaar”? Good ol’ days!)

Uh huh... Ranting and digressing again... But the point is, that jhola’s the way to go. You can carry it to work and parties, and you can wear it on jeans and salwars. Jholas look good in pink and yellow, and they also fit into your two-wheeler dickeys with ease. Girls at 10 and women at 40, jholas aren't a burden on the pocket, and neither on your shoulder. In short, I’ve thought it out, and I’ve given it the ISI mark, so go ahead and get one (if you don’t have one already). I think they look better on women, but you guys can get it for your girls and try them in fronta the mirror, just to see if they suit you... (Dunno much about metrosexual and other preferences. No offence.)

Having said that, I must say I need a new jhola, too. My first one from Sarojini Nagar – Delhi gave way to Bhabi’s gift (again from the capital), and now it’s tearing at the seams. Can’t part with it just yet... Washed it the day before coz a stupid attendant at the petrol pump doused it with fuel while filling the tank. Silly bugger...

Have a good week, buddies!
Princess

Fatafat Updates

Busy times are on, fellas! Its been ages since I checked out the blogs that I follow, inspite of seeing new posts on my dashboard everyday. Soon, soon...

So much to say, and not enough time to say it all. So let me sum it up this time.

Slumdog Millionaire is a brilliant movie as proclaimed by public reviews and personal friends. The movie, based on Vikas Swarup’s Q & A, is being dubbed in Hindi as Slumdog Karodpati, a trusted source has informed me. Cheeky, but true. I hope it's not all hype-no substance like his Six Suspects novel.

My convocation is tomorrow. And I’m not very enthused. Why? Because Pune University has not acknowledged my excellent grades, nor has the Department of Psychology appreciated me officially. While the teachers and staff have congratulated me heartily, my efforts shall not receive the reward that they yearned for... My mum’s a gold-medalist in Psychology. The daughter will not receive the same distinction despite the best grades in the history of the dept... Life, oh life...

A friend has been enlightening me about the intricacies of birthday bumps and ragging. (Being a girl, and an Arts/Psychology student, I have not personally experienced how ragging works except in books and movies.) I was told all kinds of outrageous stuff juniors need to do on the bidding of their senior students. (I can’t put it all down here for fear of being flagged, but trust me it’s shocking. Guys are made to do everything right from stripping in public to doing weird things to genitals – their own as well as others’.) Eekss....

And birthday bumps are equally bad. Kicking a guy till he cries hoarse and whimpers over his pains is not my idea of an ideal celebration. The excuse apparently is, “to let him know what a burden he is on earth.” And who decides that? Humphh...

Here’s some delightful news – I’ve stumbled upon the perfect solution to all my dressing concerns. A brown, extra large top that works well as a T-shirt in itself, or a sweater worn over a smaller top. It looks fantastic, and it feels fabulous. Way to go!! How I wish other difficulties in life had such simple answers as well...

News you can use – Size 0 is actually waist 23. Now did you know that? I didn’t. But I sure know that Kareena Kapoor looks anorexic and ill. I have NO clue why people find her hot. To me, she is nothing but supercilious and conceited. I will go as far as to say that she did not merit the acting award in Jab We Met; Shahid was way better than her, and probably more deserving as well.

The first volume of Menon’s Mahabharata is approaching the closing stage. I am currently reading the Virata Parva, which is less than a 100 pages, and tells about the Pandavas’ hidden year in exile - Ajnatavasa. If discovered in this period, they would have to spend another 12 years in banishment.

The previous section had some amazing tales revolving around Yudhishtira, the son of Dharma. How he answers the riddles of Nahusha and the yaksha, how he yearns to seek revenge even as he treads the path of dharma. Equally interesting was the story of Duryodhana, who decided to kill himself as he was shamed by a gandharva, and the Pandavas who rescued him. I was not aware that Uma and Siva created Duryodhana, and I was further flabbergasted by this statement spoken to Dury – “Above the waist, your body was made by Mahadeva out of impenetrable vajras, and below the waist, the devi herself made your form from flowers of heaven to please the women of earth”. Ahem... Did people REALLY talk like that in the bygone days?!!

I’m eager to watch Ghajini again. Haven’t had my fill of movies just yet!

Say, anybody know how’s Twilight and/or Breaking Dawn? I’m planning to read Stephanie Meyer, but can’t decide which book would be better. Any other recommendations are also most welcome. You ARE reading, right??

And hey, here are a few other questions that I’ve been ruminating upon:
Why do guys shake their legs when seated?
Why do footballers wear socks till their knees?

All men-centric queries... So men, please oblige! But I sure would like to hear what the women have to say to this!! ;-)

Take care!
Anuja

Nayee Taazee

Heylo lovely people!

Today's post is about updates, updates and a few more updates.

At work, we completed the survey we were sweating over last week, and presented it to the mngt folks. It was a tedious process - subjecting the data to all kinds of mathematical functions and analyzing it wrt various categories and slices. Now that it's done (not quite, coz my silly colleague goofed up and we need to do some rework, but anyway), I can't help remembering the effort we put in for our college survey, and how delighted we were when we got an Outstanding grade for it! Cheers! Hope this organizational survey brings more business and erases our salary worries!

What is also very evident is that my boss has taken a keen interest in inviting me for most client meetings. She apparently wants to "nurture" me and help me "grow", and I'm hoping this works out for the best! I'm learning... and I'm enjoying the respect and involvement :-) Touch wood!

Spoke about Pune Mirror a few days ago. Here's the latest - A Chinese group in the city says Pune has beautiful girls... (Tell us something we don't know, mates!) Hehe. So much for modesty! But well, I can be honest or modest... Take your pick!! Another article described in minute details how the cops chased and caught some dukkar-chors. We really seem famished for some action else pig thieves would not command an entire page, that too the very second one! And finally, another amusing one - in a Bihar fair, a vendor sold four samosas for a cool 10 grand! (He had to refund 9,990 when the foreigners complained, but watta pleasure for him - those precious 10 minutes!!!)

UTV or some channel is showing Race next weekend - the 29th to be precise. I'm looking forward to watching it. As I shared in my review, the movie isn't as exquisite as it's rapid and stylish. But a good watch on a Saturday evening if you're at home and have some popcorn/munchies handy!

My bro has returned from a vacation in Goa, and he's got back gigantic bottles of whisky and vodka. I'm salivating at the presence of Magic Moments Lemongrass & Green Apple, and pulling my hair at the prospect of watching the men in the family sipping away as I watch them helplessly... (That reminds me, some condom company has come up with a new Green Apple flavor; what's this new fixation about apples, anyway?)
Each day as I open my cupboard, I see the Tarot deck glaring at me. This hobby that I fervently pursued last year has now taken a backseat as the novelty has worn off and there are other things that are keeping me occupied...

Speaking about my cupboard, here is the craziest of the updates for the day. Can you guess HOW MANY tops/T-shirts I have in there? 70... Freaking SEVENTY... (Not counting my kurtas and salwar suits, skirts and other ethnic/western wear.) I couldn't believe my eyes as I counted them. One fine day I decided I should arrange them so that I could see them all the same time and ease the attire-decision-process for the day. Out tumbled a few of my fav tops that I had given up for lost, but which had actually been pushed behind by the new ones... Akin the memory displacement theory we did at M.A level. Gosh, I need to do a better job at not repeating the same stuff in a month, if not two months!
Have completed around 175 pages of the Mahabharata. Cruised through Ekalavya and Drona's encounter, Duryodhana and Bheema's hostility and have reached the part where Karna challenges the Kaurava and Pandava princes in a duel. I feel so sorry for the poor lad; it's as if he was born for nothing more than pain and suffering. His birth was Kunti's way of testing a muni's boon, he was reared by a rath-driver (hence called sutaputra and Radheya) and he was turned away by rishis who refused to be his guru coz he was not a kshatriya. When he finally became Parasurama's disciple, he was cursed to forget all that he had learnt when he needed it the most coz he had lied about his caste. Disheartened when he returned home, he was cursed to death by a muni whose cow he killed by accident. I mean, WHY HIM??? By far, he is one of my fav characters for his mental strength and moral tenacity. But well, Fate just doesn't side with some people...

I'm not feeling particularly enthusiastic about anything these days. Shows in my blog, doesn't it? Guess midweek crisis has afflicted me. Lets join our hands in prayer and hope the weekend comes soon...

Until then...
Lonely Princess

Post No. 70! And another Diwali gone...

Hola!
So how was the vacation, people?! Had fun? Had your fill of delicacies and socializing and relaxation and fireworks and fun? How’s it being back at work? (Lucky you bank employees who have a holiday tomr and most of you who have a holiday today for Padva... Envy you!)

How’s it knowing there’s no holiday after this until December?! Not-so-sweet November, eh?!!

(Eeks, did I just drill a hole in your half-sunk ship?!!)

My vacation has been inundated with Diwali sms-es and visitors, sweets and crackers (I didn’t burst any, but that sure didn’t stop my neighbors!) Two days of frenzied activity. I met my long-lost friend who I didn’t expect would call... And I carried off ethnic stuff as if I was born in them. (Quite surprising for folks who’ve known me personally for ages, I know! Coz I hardly wear salwar suits and when I do the dupatta’s missing, and the churidar/salwar could also be substituted with a more comfortable pair of jeans.) But you know what, I actually like dressing up! All those jewels and trinkets, finery and glitter – I find it all very alluring. Getting ready is fun when you know someone is gona see you and notice all the effort that has gone into being what you look at a moment in time. When you know your attempts will be appreciated. Else, it’s a waste of time... Just like the popular song in Hum Hai Rahi Pyar Ke says – जब तक न पड़े सजन की नज़र, सिंगार अधुरा रहता है... घूंघट की आड़ से दिलबर का...

(Hey, transliteration's cool, eh? I mean the Hindi script that you see above... What technology, man!)

And another watch-word... Very important... When someone dresses up, it’s civil (and anticipated) to compliment him/her. And then, it’s mandatory to return that compliment. However one actually looks... What’s the harm in making someone feel good?!!!

I come from a typical, contemporary, middle-class family where it isn’t unusual to use worn-out pieces of cloth in the kitchen to mop grime. Until recently, I was accustomed to seeing old napkins, torn vests and frayed towels for varied purposes like wiping washed utensils and cleaning the table after meals. But I was not prepared for what I encountered the other day. I washed my hands at the kitchen sink after popping a slice of apple in my mouth, and I asked mum for a cloth to wipe my hands. (I suspect I have OCD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; I hate any kind of dirt and I keep washing and smelling my hands a thousand times a day. But more about my idiosyncrasies later.) I turned around and looked at what she was holding out to me – a sock. I mean REALLY! A sock?!! I’m never gona forget this my entire life... A SOCK, for heavens sake??!!!

Life's a song for me; I find a song in everything I see. (Doesn’t mean I’m gona write one on this sock-story. That would be grosser than the act my mum committed!) But, I’ve been writing poetry for as long as I can remember. Probably since the time I was 8 or 9. And the title of my first published poem was Life At Home. It found a place in the Pune Times “Budding Poets” section of the Times Of India newspaper – then the No.1 daily in Pune (I dunno now, there are so many all claiming to have the highest readership).

It was a pleasant surprise one morning, when I was in the 5th standard, as I woke up and opened the newspaper (as usual the city section first flinging away the main paper). There was my poem, complete with my name and a pleasing sunrise clipart. As if that rapture wasn’t enough, a cheque landed in our mailbox the next day gifting a cool 100 bucks to the “talented poet”! More than my parents, my Uncle-Aunty (more popularly known as Abba-Ammi) were thrilled. (They have always taken my wins and achievements with more excitement than my parents, and also encouraged me to explore myself. Thanks guys! All credit to you) So, they blew up the piece in the paper and laminated it, and promptly stuck it on the wall in their hall. Ammi still claims it’s my best ever... And I smile in embarrassment as I recall the babyish, apparent lines about fighting and making up at home. (Wouldn’t want to be caught dead with it right now...)

Well, this victory sparked off a series of submissions and publishes (publications?!) and cheques. Abba had said he’d publish a book of my poems, but that never happened, and most of them are still sheltered away in the yellowing pages of my childhood Dear Diary(s). The poetry writing continues, however, and that is what you glimpse fairly often on this new outlet that I have – Blogging rocks! Hope this has a lengthier and lucrative tenure...

TC buddies!
Lonely Princess

Wardrobe Chronicles

“Clothes make a man”

(And they define, classify and distinguish a woman.)

Who you are is determined by what you wear. And we can see this in our daily lives. People who command second looks are most often those who dress well, even if they look like a spoilt plum. (Of course, I’m not talking about the men here; they look at any and every woman who is not invisible. However she may be... And however she dresses... But women, aah, WE know what suits and what doesn’t. At least most of us do. And that is why most men take us shopping... Even tho they wouldn’t want to go shopping with us!!)

Why men take women shopping? Well, usually coz we land great bargains and get the best stuff. We don’t go merely for fancy trends and latest fashion, but we actually USE our brains to ensure what will look good on a particular body type and personality structure. It’s pretty scientific. And besides we have tremendous stamina to visit 10 shops before finally deciding that the blue shirt in shop no. 3 was the finest of the lot. (It goes without saying that we blow the $5 we saved in a quick snack later costing $25. But don’t we deserve something for having spent our precious time, energy and intellect on u?!! How particularly ungrateful! Ughhh...)

And why do you think women DON’T take men shopping? (Unless they need masculine vitality to pay the bills or give a hand with the luggage). One, you guys start fretting right at the second shop (had it not been for us, shopping malls wouldn’t have existed!) Two, you can do little besides nodding your head at things we pick up and ask for opinion. Three, when you actually muster the enthusiasm and let go of your indolence to move around and choose something for us, its so distressing that we can barely manage a sheepish shrug at your ludicrousness. Four, your leering at sexy clothes is NOT helping our shopping targets. Five, you cant stay away from your cel fone as u wait even when we try on just 8 dresses looking for the “perfect night pajamas”. Six... oh I cud go on and on and on. But the point is, when we ask u to go shopping with us, we’re actually doing u a huge favor. So don’t have any misconceptions about the entire episode.

Now that my guy-bashing for the day is done, leme share with u that what looks good on one doesn’t suit the other. And sometimes something just suits NOBODY. There’s no point in spending a bomb on that silly polka-dotted shirt coz Hrithik looked cool in it or that tattered asymmetric yellow gown that Aishwarya wore with panache. Hell, they’re gorgeous, and hell, they are on screen where anything looks fabulous! I mean all magz and tabloids hav long screamed their lungs at having that “little black dress” in your closet. Which I’ve done very well without for the last 20 years. (Even before that, when I was 3, I dint have no black dresses, little or otherwise.) And no regrets! You know what looks good on u. Or rather, what you feel good in, feels good on u. As long as the confidence is in place.

My picks for anyone and everyone who’s interested – Black isn’t the only color in the world. Go ahead and experiment with all hues and tints in the rainbow. I’m not recommending saffron at work, but you cant go wrong with violets and greens. Formals look good on young guys and the right accessories make any lady look classy. Don’t forget the footwear; people often judge others on the basis of what they wear on their feet. If you’re wearing Hawaii chappals, no Armani’s gona make u look impressive. The watchwords are clean and ironed. Not jus the clothes, even the body inside them. A few must-haves, if you must, then I’d say a good pair of jeans (not necessarily branded but certainly something that befits your assets), well-fitting T-shirts and floaters/sneakers for the casual wear. For official occasions, stick to shirts and trousers, and if women aren’t comfortable in them, then salwar kameez in soft colors without the zari and heavy work. And please, for heavens sake, NO DANGLERS AT WORK! (Men, danglers are the mile-long earrings that women wear in their ears forgetting that they should end near the ears also.) I mean at parties they’re ok, but u needn’t be a typical Ramola Sikand (some sidey K serial star on Star Plus that I cant recall right now).

What I need right now are some long tops and Ts (my older ones are bearing the brunt of the festive season and being trashed), decent nightwear and a good pair of jeans – preferably blue. Also some accessories for the hands and hair. And ya, a good stole/mini-shawl for the approaching winter. That about winds it up. Short list, eh?

Hey, I had a haircut! Was bored of the old long hair look, and wanted a change. It looks nice... (As if anything wouldn’t!)

Trust this helps!

See ya soon.

Love,
Princess

For Better or For Worse

I’ve finally decided.

This purple top has to go.

It needed a lot of objectivity, a lot of strength to finally come to this verdict. After all, I’ve had it for a better part of almost 5 years. If I recall correctly, I bought this at a corner shop near FC at a 150 bucks or so. I loved the color, the simplicity, the cute yet trendy look. But time waits for no man (or woman), and nor does growth. What looked like a small (and sexy) inch of innocent tummy peek-a-boo has now become a shameful exposition of my assets. Out it has to go, and this week itself, lest I change my mind.

My wardrobe’s stuffed with clothes. In fact, it’s spilling over, and I haven’t worn half the clothes more than thrice. (Quite Veronicesque - courtesy Archies, eh?!!) Every Diwali my mum insists on cleaning up our abode (Goddess Lakshmi doesn’t venture where thr’s filth and garbage, so get ur act together and start dusting ur den pals. Dontcha want sum money?!!)

While my mum merrily prances around emptying and re-arranging the furniture, cupboards and everything that can be scrubbed and washed, I give myself a pat on the back even if I wipe off the dirt from my study table (used for all purposes except study) and my clothes-cupboard (mum mopped up the book-case remember? One chore less for me! Hee haa haa...) So well, this Diwali I’ve resolved to lighten my closet. Which spells an end for the dresses I’d kept for so long, hoping against hope that I’d get a chance to wear them once somehow, somewhere! High time I accepted that sometimes some things that just don’t fit after a certain period are nothing but baggage that need to be vacated asap afap (as fast as possible). Ba-bye dear green salwar suit that I wore on just 2-3 occasions. Adios my lovely T shirts and tops that carried me thru my junior and senior college days at FC. Farewell my beautiful, comfortable pajamas (that are so blissful although they are tearing at the seams with relentless use!) Goodbye to you all, and may u rest in peace...

Saw a hilarious show on MTV; u mus hav heard of MTV Fully Faltoo... It rocks man! They've made amazing spoofs of ChakDe, Tare Zameen Par, Sarkar, Dhoom (the orginal as well as the sequel), and Rock on among others. Besides, they have an equally side-splitting Awards show where they choose the best among the worst. Tee hee hee... Love your se poemnsa humor folks!

And finally, some news you can use (or rather, news you COULD HAVE used had I informed u earlier.) Madame President Pratibhatai Patil was in the city the last 4 days for some tour or sumthin. Which is y cops were acting so diligent and sincere (NOW u kno!) And also, ICICI bank was in trouble over the weekend as the share market took a tumble and its shares rated 1500 plummeted to 300 bucks. Customers were flocking to banks and ATMs to widdraw their money and close their accounts. Some patrons even got sms-es frm the directors saying funds had not been used in international development, and hence, the bank was safe and thus, the money was protected and in no danger. Well, watever the truth, everyone was scared. M waitin to hear the updates...

An eight-liner to wind up this post...

Do I hate the world?
Or does the world hate me;
Are my rules too rigid?
Or the world too free...
I wana be sombody else,
And see how things work;
In things I deem vile,
Is there some hidden perk?

Leme kno if u know...

Until then!
Lonely Princess