Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Clown!!!

One day, I set out on a walk,
Alone, lonely and falling apart.
The bricks were coming crashing down,
I was feeling like a clown!

I look around, round and round,
And everyone seem to have found,
A hand to hold on their walk,
In the light, through the dark.
I move on with dipping spirits,
Everyone is at their wits
I can hear them laugh and howl,
I was feeling like a clown.

I stop to seek directions,
And my oh my!!! the expressions,
The looks on their face,
As if I were a disgrace.
I was lost, and knew not where to go,
My face hung even more low,
I was ready to be buried down,
I was feeling like a clown.

I stop my walk,
And hear me talk,
The million voices in my head,
Wonder what they said!
But they scoffed and jeered,
And giggled and peered,
Like a King who wore a crown,
And As if I were a clown.

As they all run past,
Fast and fast,
In a hurry towards no where,
I stand and stare,
At how who fares,
In the running race.
Each one wears a fancy frown,
Alone and down, like a clown!!!

I wonder where the held hand went,
I wonder what all this meant,
I wonder where the road would lead,
I wonder who sowed this sinful seed,
I wonder what I’m meant to do,
I wonder, I wonder who,
Sent us down,
Just to end up being a clown!!!

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Surprised at Bella Ciao

I should have posted this one, before the previous, but since my priorities are down right convoluted, that came first and this next. This is actually in answer to myself. My birthday was quite a surprise really, contrary to the dark fears I had on the eve of the day. Have you ever heard of birthday blues? May be I'm the only one in the world who has it. No apparently I'm not. a Mr.Milton M.D. Ph.D has wondered if happy ocassions like birthdays have negative effects on people. He was talking about his 75 yr old patient by the way. And another Mr. Hart thinks the blues can come as early as 18. Sir, I have a clarification, is 24 early or late? This was the input google provided me with, to reassure me that I'm not alone. Thanks Google!!!I don't know what I'll do without you.


Well, all that is besides the point. The primary issue of importance is that my birthday did have a surprise element, remember? (if there are any readers at all) But for those who compete with me in extending imagination, I did not turn 26 or 28 on my 24th birthday. I just turned 24. Neither did 50 people wish me. Out the five usual wishes I get, one forgot! She said she was 'lost'. And I'm not, because I still keep track of the 5 measly wishes. I'm telling you it was not such a surprise of a surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

So Priya and me make it to dinner. At Bella Ciao. Right next to where I work, she had made it sound like the best Italian Restraunt ever. But they served Brocolli on the pizza. Who does? Well they do, and if you want to try it please go there. There is only one thing that is nice about that place, it's got a cute roof top - terrace setting where even the most unromantic couple can get into the swing. But actually that did not matter to me, because I was devoid of a romantic element, or rather even if there was one, was just missing him terribly!!!

Thats when my birthday cake came. Its the cutest birthday cake I've ever got. Will upload the picture soon, if there are any readers of my blog at all. For now I'll make do with describing it. Twas a cute little cake, just enough for Priya, me and two other nice people. Chocolate, with the prettiest pink icing I've ever ever seen. It had 2 candles stuck on it. Really it was like welcoming a two year baby girl into her third year. Thanks Priya!!!that was just so sweet of you.

And who knows me better than her, she sang me happy bithday, as she caught pics of me cutting the cake. Poor her, and ridiculous me. I don't know if its shameful to admit that my circle of friends has not undergone any change what so ever since I left college. (I think I'm growing old, contrary to my grandmother who is certain about having stayed stuck at 72 for the last seven years although atleast one of her children have turned 60 in the last 3 years. ) My solitude seemed to evince sympathy from the couple who occupied the table near us. It would be very nasty on my part if I said they were drooling at the cake. They were nice people. They actually sang as I cut the cake. And therefore I had no issues sharing my cake with them.

I think I stand corrected, and if there is anyone at all reading my blog, you know what, surprises need not necessarily come from people you know. Ah wow!!!what a preacher. I think I should write a book in competition to Kahlil Gibran's Prophet.(what d'ya say?)

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Arranged Marriage & the Associated Aarbatam...

I'll tell you what, I have been thinking of doing this for a very long time now. I did not realise until recently, and now that have, I just surprised myself, that the reason for the refrain is that I seemed to have acquired my parents fears. But now that enlightenment has dawned upon me, I just don't care about what the repurcussions of doing this would be. Well, enlightenment should prove a point right?

An obvious fall out of my sad saga of singlehood (not sure if its so sad, but I like alliterations....so) was the tragic triumph of the arranged marriage institution. Coming to think of it now, it reminds me of an ambulance for the following reasons:

1. it is a rescue vehicle for the singletons who like me have failed to incidentally saunter upon their love.

2. once you are in it, it will send out flashes of red light and a deafening siren of your arrival on the scene of the 'eligibles'.
3. it will take you no where else, but to a hospital where you will poked, pricked, and pierced(i know they all mean almost the same, but i love the alliterations) and most probably end up dead, injured or at least scarred for life.
Somewhere along the way, i think i just turned out lucky. Plus of course, I'm intelligent (yes I am!!)and I'm a woman. So that gives me the sixth sense advantage. I could smell the fish in the pie (well thats my own idiom if you were wondering, I'm a contributor to the english language) and since I perpetually run a campaign to 'save my life', (i'm experienced at this you see) I decided to jump off the emergency vehicle, because after all, there was no emergency.
But as long as I was on it I met people who should rightfully have made a reservation in Madam Tussad's before they embarked on their earthly visit. There are different kinds of atrocious people. Let me list them out for you:
1. The type who has not tried magic oil for rejuvenating hair growth (on the head, before I am misunderstood), or hair weaving, or Dr. Batra's helpful homeopathy, but expects his girl to have spent every penny of the savings of the seven generations before her on VLCC or Talwarkars. I really think what such men need is a mirror, not a wife.
2. The foreign maaplai, whose marketing, advertising and branding is all done by his mommie dearest who is already jealous that the daughter-in-law would get to see the Niagra falls before she does.
3. The poor software engineer whose education failed to teach him that slavery was abolished really long ago, and that therefore if he is expecting servile dedication towards his parents he might as well do it himself and not look for a personal assistant under the falsified designation of a wife.
4. The super duper desperate men, I'm talking about the ones who will be the real beneficiaries if prostitution was legalised, (and I stand for it) and who stare at your breasts before they take a look at your face. (I don't intend to be funny here. So those who are laughing, its not a joke please). I don't think they need a wife, rather they don't deserve one.
5. The type who list out specifications about the wife-to-be with the confidence that bio technology has advanced enough to provide genetically adjusted wives, only there is a slight hitch there. Mothers of such boys should have within years after the birth of the slpendid son found another woman, who agreed to modify the genes of her prospective off spring. Marriage would then indeed be a contract, and I would have been spared preparing that really painful essay on my analysis of why marriage under Hindu Law cannot strictly speaking be termed a contract.
6. The type whose idea of a perfect first date involves a discussion about whether the next government would be formed by the Congress or the BJP or if life may be discovered on Pluto or if oil resources would last another decade or ten? Why do I care? For this type, you know what, you don't need a wife, just write in to Barkha Dutt to be a part of her show. That will serve your purpose.
7. The type who almost deserves a wife, those who will almost make you say that this world is not so bad after all, but just in time to nick your dreams, will look at his mommies face, the decision making authority of his life. The one who is a complete shame to the notion of all the masculinity one can reasonably associate with men. Grow up son! Then look for a wife, once you have managed to struggle free of her pallu.
8. Those that think marriage is a risk, and who will try and find insurance policies to try and cover them. Those who think they are standing at the tip of a tank full of H2SO4 and who will ultimately die inhaling the fumes or rather kill themself inhaling it. You know what, consider Sanyasa, it's the best option for you, and has the added feature of assuring a place in heaven and freedom from the cycle of re-birth.
If you think I'm exaggerating you are free to do so, its a democracy you see, and a constitutional right to think. But somehow after the brief experience I have decided to leave my life to the game of mathematical probability rather than exert any kind of efforts in the direction. The risk is not worth the patience, but is sure entertaining. Variety is certainly the spice of life, but when the spice is so strong that you nose and eyes and ears feel like a fire engine, you can rethink the measure of spice you want.