Thursday, July 23, 2009

How do you know?

Everyone around me is either taking the plunge, about to take it, or obsessing about taking it. How do you know when he's the one? How do you know if She's the one? One life is all we've got... how do we understand whose the best person to share it with, to be witness to our ups and downs. There are no right answers - only perspectives.

Having been through a fair share of 'I think its him' and 'Oh god NO's' I'm more certain of what I don't want - than what I actually do want. Ive turned from a girl easily influenced by Romantic Comedies who identified with all the heartbroken leading ladies except for the last bit when they're swept by the man of their dreams (When that part came on, I'd cry).... to one who knows Real life is more subdued, there's no background music and sometimes what isn't said, but felt - is prettier than a romantic line from a love song...

A girlfriend almost in a relationship with someone did background checks on his family and standard of living etc.. this was purely genuine protecting herself - before she got into something she dint have a clue about. A good mix of rational thinking in love. I wholly agreed with her decision, but at the same time thought back to the time A happened. I went along with the feeling in my heart and just let go. I have not met his parents yet, and am not willing to do so until my parents come around (They haven't yet). Here i realized how my claims of being more rational and realistic than a few years ago got rubbished in an instant. Somehow love for me has always been something I cant mix procedures with, But I see how important it is. I do.

I want to be married to a man who balances me... who I can talk nineteen to a dozen with, but whom I can also be silent with -- content with the moment, and his being, comforted by his Aura, silenced by his strength and rejuvenated with his presence... Less than perfect is perfect. Exactly what I want. I dont want to wonder if A is the one, imagine a wedding and a 'beyond'. I want to KNOW.

So how do you know? Will you know when you have a fight all day but the minute you feel slightly sick he's forgotten that it was your fault to begin with? Or that the first person you want to call when your happy or your sad is him? Or that you love how he treats your kid brother? Or how he doesnt say the perfect things all the time, but when he does say somethign nice your day is made? Maybe. Maybe not.

In a way Im tired of not knowing. I want my life to move on, I want to unveil 'him', that person whose mine all mine. I want to be proposed to, and have a ring on my finger and belong to someone. I want to add another name to mine and have a ridiculously long and crazy mixed breed surname, and have a home and decide what colour tiles my bathroom will have. Give in, completely - mind and body and know what its like. Finding out what its like to go home to someone and lie down next to someone and wake up next to him and know he's yours.

Comeone life, get a move on!

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Two Years and Writing...

We turned two yesterday. Happy birthday to us, Nomad!

2 years, one steady job, one massive heartbreak, 4 extra kgs, 2 lesser piercings, 5 inches of longer hair later, here I am. Im not sure if Im back at square one, or far from it. Im still in pursuit of that higher education, insistent on a top notch school, still not happy with that extra inch here and there, still hoping that the boy who holds my heart is the one, still hoping, still pursuing all these dreams that 2 years ago I thought I would be living now.

It feels like nothing's changed, yet so different Im speed dialing a few different people now, Im seated in and around colleagues none of who were around when I joined, Im living in a new home yet Im going old-homewards every weekend...

This blog is a part of me, piece by piece put together, sugarcoating the upsets and livening up the bright spots in my life... and Im glad Im still at it, two years and writing. Unlike most other hobbies that come and go, have sharp crests and troughs, this one has been relatively stable. I feel as though I went through so many things here, and got so much support during 26/11, the Indiahelps venture, the other random incosistansies of life.

I'd been meaning to do so since a long time... Nomad I love ya! For your support, love, warm hugs and enthusiasm for any and every plan. For coming over to my house this birthday, for the tears you cried for me, for the feeling that I can tell you anything at all and you wont judge me, for being fun and really really cute, for loving shopping and cheecakes and brownies as much as I do and for happening to me when I needed a bright spot in life. You happened at the right time, and I wish you were still at the same office so we could take off on impromptu friday evening plans and trade books for coffee. There are a few things I DONT like about you though and this is for all to know. Your a woman and married. You ought to have been a man and single. (hmmpf) You never take me on your vacations. (Double hmpff). You PERPETUALLY have guests over = lesser opportunities to meet. and last, You mean the world to me.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

How I wish...

I could go back.

**Update! For Aniket and Howdoweknow who are instigating me, Ive decided to oblige :D but this wont be easy. Spot me. Two EXCRUTIATINGLY easy clues.
  1. I was the class Tomboy with the shortest hair, and no I dont have curly hair.
  2. I have one of the largest smiles in this picture.

Watchyouwaiting for :P

and for the rest, second row from top, third from your right (when your facing the photo) :D

Friday, July 3, 2009

Help Abhishek..

Crosslinked here.

I woke this morning to a very disturbing story, one that jarred me out of my somnolent stupor and quickly hastened my heartbeat to a zillion knots. This is a true story, I can vouch for since I picked up the phone and spoke to this mans brother. Here is his story ...

Abhishek is a young 30 year old man, who was working as a brand manager in Britannia Industries until recently. An innocuous fever led to the discovery of cancer within his body - and he has been diagnosed with Bi-phenothypic Acute Leukimia (BAL) a type of blood cancer. He is to undergo matched unrelated donor transplant - the cost for which is USD 20,000 or roughly Rs 1 crore.

He has undergone three sessions of chemotherapy till now, and donors are being sourced by doctors from the Apollo hospital (Chennai) and CMC (Christian Medical college, Vellore). Currently Rs 55 lakhs needs to be updated for the transplant. The family does not need any financial support other than raising this mammoth amount for medical bills.

I have spoken to his brother, Abhijit, and he has said he will keep in touch with me regarding progress.

This case is curable, and the operation can save his life. He has a young wife, and no children.

Visit the link for more details and pictures - In case anyone wants to help out, please mail us at or leave me a comment and ill get back to you or contact Abhisheks family directly through contact details available on the site.

Would request other bloggers/tweeters to take this up and display on your blogs if possible. Thanks.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

What? Already!

On Monday night was J's 26th birthday. 26?? Since when did my friends start going over the hill! (Anything over 25 is on THAT side of life). As soon as I turn 26 this Dec, this shall be suitably altered to Anything above 30.... and so on. Also, under and over 25 year old jokes shall not be entertained.

J's a friend I know since 2nd grade, second oldest only to a certain boy who wanted to marry me in 1st grade. (Whose proposal I accepted of course, and since then he and only he had rights sit next to me in class, pack my bag and sacrifice the sweets and biscuits or any item of food that could be considered fancy to please the love of his life, namely me. This love story had an abrupt ending as my mom, having already given me benefit of doubt over the discovery of remnants of sweets and chocolates, none of which were given by her, for more than a few days, quizzed me about the source of aforementioned goodies. I bravely informed her of my decision and impending marriage and well, that was that. Being mature and sophisticated even at that age, I moved past a broken heart with laudable poise and assured him well always be friends.)

We celebrated with a fun grand party indoors - Lord praise Airconditioning and the indoor Bar area - Flamboyante @ Seven. GO!

It was when this song started playing and we ran to each other, screeching half way across the dance floor, hugged for a whole minute, it being the song we danced to, for a Teachers day performance in Nineteen Ninety freakin five 1995!!! That was my only dance performance till date and more so, the only one in which I, played a girl, having been always relegated to playing the male character in every performance. Ive been Jesus, Krishna, the male escort to a beauty queen, a male train commuter (who insisted on getting a moustache painted on for a genuine appearance), a wicked Qazi (Who forgot a section of her lines, which meant that the other characters dint get to say theirs, which meant a whole section of the pay was skipped ).

J being a typical girlie with longish hair was forced to stuff her hair into a hideous cap borrowed from a *ugh* boy, and I had to dig out the ONLY skirt I owned and find a pair of shoes that were not sneakers. The importance of make up being completely lost on me then, my opposition to the same was callously subdued and red goop spattered on my lips. Needless to say, a tomboy with hair as short as a boy + girly clothes and makeup = almost crossdresser appearance.

Come to think of it, it was after this 'performance' that I was always assigned speaking roles - Narrators, Main leads, but NONE close to dancing. All that genuine effort to display womanly grace gone to waste. Some people just aren't appreciated before they're long gone. Ah well, either ways, its the last time they got to see this boo-t-ay.

J and I were also together in the aformentioned wicked Qazi play together, where she was the farmer, and I was the wicked Qazi where my Prized genuine 'Hornets' t-shirt (Basketball = sport of choice) made its stage debut, and was coupled with an ankle sized (knee length to Mom) overcoat so as not to make the character appear too frivolrous. I was a cold-blooded treacherous oppresive Qazi who cheated innocents out of thir hard earned money after all. While there was no mistaking the cartoon tee under the black overcoat, Im sure the audience appreciated the efforts of getting into the skin of the character whilst interpreting him as a basketball enthusiast, thereby giving him an identity, through my sheer actors instinct. I think.

I have now come to terms with having been a kook most of my life. And so has she. She's still around, and so am I. And I hope we always will be.

The wicked Qazi and the hapless farmer remained best friends for the rest of time. The end.