“I Love Him Too!”

She’s probably the only one who knows the entire story. She knows how you’ll met, where you’ll met and probably even remembers the date. She must’ve even told you how to handle the first date, and the ones that followed.

She knows about your first fight, and hated the fact that he could reduce you to tears in a matter of seconds. But she also loved how easily he could win your heart back.

Sneaking away on those secret getaways, she let you use her name as an excuse to keep your dad at bay. And then there were those days, when the gushing and blushing just wouldn’t end, she listened to you patiently and recapped every conversation, analyzed every word he said, swooned over the ring he gave you.

She slowly began seeing why you love him so much, and her apprehensions dissolved! Countless sleepovers and a million conversations later, your best friend finally accepts the fact that he’s really the ONE for you. And says,
Your Best Friend Forever,



This post was published in tamarindrice:


Mumbai Locals, you’re gonna get me killed!

And today, I broke another record in my Mumbai local journeys! In a bid to get to work on time and avoid khit-pit, I placed my foot precariously on the edge on the footboard of the 9.04 Churchgate Fast. And boy, did my heart race fast! Trying to protect my new purple sling bag, purple blackberry and my very very sorry ass, I was hanging on for dear life! At first, I wanted to jump off the train but as it gathered speed.. I decided to take a chance and stay on board! The ladies tried to push their way in, and kept reassuring me that I will be ok (I guess they could read my expressions – mostly it resembled the terrified Mort in Madagascar! :P)

One of them even held on to me, and once we touched the Goregaon platform, I loosened my muscles, relaxed a bit and shoved my way into the compartment! PHEW!

Bach gaye yaar, BB status updated, concerned friends asking me to take care and just as I thought the worst is over, I get caught at Dadar station for not updating my pass! Man, I could’ve been the earliest at work, but oversmart TC with snide derision had to catch me TODAY! Time for expression change: abla nari! :P

Deed done: saste mein pat gayi! ;)

Bloody noses, monkey-hanging, nearly falling, TC catching, arm getting chewed like its tandoori – I hope my train torture is done for this life! Please, prettyy please!


And I love these rainy days…

There comes a moment in every Mumbaikar’s life when they think that no day is complete without cursing the scorching heat. The dreaded month of MAY is feared, and even though the weather Gods are way kinder to us than say Delhi or even Chennai… we crib, cry, whine and bitch about the Mumbai heat like as if another day is gonna kill us!

And then, the most obvious ‘conversation starters’ follows: “when will it rain ya?”/ “and not just a drizzle… it will just wet the place and then it gets back to being hot… only worsening it”/  “man, I can’t wait to go for a monsoon trek”/  “I hope it rains enough to give us another excuse to bunk work – flooding!”/ “can’t wait to take in the smell of fresh earth after the first rains” (even though all this will be forgotten once the puddles and dripping wet ladies in the second class compartment kick in, not forgetting the traffic snarls too)

But that doesn’t take away the excitement of pre-monsoon showers. In fact, ever since ‘Wake Up Sid’  I’ve found myself romancing this city even more under grey skies! The way he builds up the hype for the first showers, and the most beautiful song to go with it – Iktaara, along with scenes of driving through Mumbai to get to Marine Drive – sigh!

My earliest memories of my love-affair with this season include: ek cutting chai ki pyaali, pakoras / vada pav/ bhutta by the beach, getting drenched with my sisters on my balcony legde and dancing to rain songs (we’ve updated our database over the years – the latest ones being Adele’s ‘set fire to the rain’ / Creedence Clearwater’s ‘have you ever seen the rain’). The Mumbai rains do bring with it a certain charm. The romance is back in the air, and Im convinced that this is nature’s way of saying that everything will be ok!

And today, the weather was just perfect. My day started with my favourite breakfast (the only thing my dad ever called BREAKFAST!)  : lemon grass tea, salami, fried bananas, buttered bread, eggs sunny side up – coupled with dull skies! It rained, and how! It wasn’t the trailor, a teaser that would leave us craving for more. It was the full picture and I enjoyed it in full HD. Right from last night, the weather Gods announced the arrival of the ‘real thing’ with thunder, lightening and heavy showers. It’s here to stay, and all I can say is “I love these rainy days!”


Censor War: The Dirty Picture v/s Agneepath

How is it that  the Big Bad Ugly Villain with ugly teeth and no hair, absolutely NO hair at all – who could leave children scarred for life, is let loose on National Television during prime time television on a Sunday evening?

How is it that a movie which Sanjay Dutt himself would never like his children to see, is let off with a warning like ‘adult supervision’ and no censor cuts (not that I have heard of?)

Yet, a National-award winning actress whose movie went through 52 censor cuts was deemed as ‘dirty’ for the Indian audiences? And the picture was asked to be screened after 11 pm?!

I fail to understand the minds of the people who get to decide what is good / bad  or us. Obviously, its ok to see the crap beaten out of an obnoxious, deranged hairless psycho; but we cannot watch a fictional representation (with the necessary censor cuts) of a real life character who was probably made popular by the same set of people leading secret lives fantasizing about her!

Bhaiya, this happens only in India. Looks like this Dirty Picture has to walk down an Agneepath, for it to make the CUT for our poojya Censor Board!

Pain, pain… go away!

The stereo was blaring. Her eardrums were aching, her head was throbbing.
The car screens were fogged up. The heavy rains lashing the windshield with all its might, like as if it were trying to protest. The wipers were following a monotonous rhythm, clearing the rain to give her some clarity! But her vision was still blurred, thanks to the unending stream of tears. Just then, her player belted out ‘their’ song and she could not take it anymore

She’d been on the edge for over a month now, and this was the final push. She stepped on the accelerator and zoomed past anything that dared to come in her way. She’d been planning this out in her head for the last few days now, and nothing else made sense. Once she’d crossed the urban jungle, she headed straight for the adda that they called their own, a small cliff that overlooked the city. Every sentence of that song evoked memories that pierced her, puncturing her already-broken heart! She was approaching the edge of the cliff, where they had made promises for eternity… where they had watched a million sunsets and vowed that they would never let the sun go down on them!
She took a brief pause, kissed those memories goodbye, and kickstarted the engine. It drove her insane to stay away from him. And finally…the insanity drove her right over the cliff. As she fell to her death, she looked to her left and relived that deadly fall which she survived, but he didn’t! She left the steering wheel, held his hand and smiled as she heard the best part of their song!

Death didn’t do them apart. If anything, it mended her broken heart.

It’s that time of the Month!

Small note to the MEN of the world:

Please do not attribute our EVERY mood swing to PMS. Its obnoxious for you to blame perfectly normal bodily functions for your abnormalities! Most of the time, it is JUST YOU that pisses us off. Period. *no pun intended*

FYI, we also hate it when you pretend to know it all and give us that ‘oohhh, acha its that time! I understand’. Followed by preferential treatment, making it all the more obvious! Ugh!

Even if you get it right, admitting it to us does not help. AT ALL! And empathy makes it even worse.. Just how would you understand something like that? In fact, thanks to your assumptions.. I’ve renamed the deadly PMS as Pesky Men Syndrome !

*PS: no PMS comments will be tolerated on this post, except if its in favour of my version of the acronym :)

It all started with a glance…




He notices me reading my novel,
I notice him reading my expressions.

He glances by my side and watches me chat animatedly,
I glance by to steal a quick look and catch him staring at me unabashedly.

He stops by for a chat,
I turn towards my earphones and novel, grumbling under my breath about how vain he is!

He insists on chatting up,
I insist on him shutting up.

He wants to share my ipod (and thoughts),
I want to lock myself away from any impending hurt I foresee.

He wants to show me around his city,
I want to avoid any further conversation.

He asks for my number,
I wanna give him a wrong one.

He gives me a missed call immediately,
I’m dying to give this whole episode a miss.

He calls me within an hour of us going our separate ways,
I spend the next hour contemplating my actions.

The story has just begun…