Neha's Blog

And I write

2012-05-27T02:45:00.000+05:30

Writing is an addiction. A good one that is. And when you have a personal blog where you write your thoughts, your opinions and everything that going on in your mind. You ain't scared of being judged, for your friends already know you and readers don't really get what you are trying to say.

There are times when you are low and you write. There are times when you are too happy and share that with the whole world. There are times when you are lonely and writing becomes your companion. And there are times when you don't have any reason to write, yet you do.

I have heard the stories of the letter era. When people wrote to each other. It used to take a week to fifteen days for a letter to reach. A mother waited for her son's letter, a girl for her soon-to-be husband's letter. In the movies they showed how the heroine cried while writing the letter to the love of her life. Tears dropping on that old piece of parchment, spreading the ink, making it difficult to read. I used to laugh at it initially. Then my grandmother told me her stories, mother shared hers. I started developing emotions and sensitiveness towards such things. Instead of laughing, I started crying after watching such scenes.

By the time I was of the age when I had relationships, e-mails were a pretty new phenomenon. My first ever letter was an e-mail. Sadly I lost the account too and the e-mail too. But I vaguely remember writing a super sentimental mail which was "inspired" by several movie dialogues that I could twist enough to make them sound original. I remember paying a good 60 rupees for the cyber cafe access - which was equivalent to my college meal money for two days.

And now I blog. About everything. These entries stay here as a reminder. Of my thoughts and my mood. My highs and my lows. They remind me of people I met and people I lost. Some came along while some left behind. The thing that made me happy last year, made me very sad this year. How strange life was back then. How difficult it seemed then. And now when I look at the same life from this point, it seems less difficult, rather not difficult at all compared to the current life.

And every time I think I have written a lousy post. And after a year, the same post seems so awesome. Every time. The current time is difficult and bad, the same time from future seems easy. Isn't it all in our minds? And I digress again from the main topic. Wait, was was it? Ah, no not really digressing.

Passport office ordeal

2012-05-26T02:36:00.000+05:30

Today was THE legendary day. It was expected to be a kind of day I wanted to remember and be proud of. And I secretly wanted it to be the judgment day too in my favour of course, but alas!

I had an appointment at the Passport office. My passport is still valid, but I have changed some personal details and for that I had to reapply the passport. Like I mentioned in the earlier post, this time around I didn't want to go through an agent and pay him the bribe money to get my work done. Thus I wanted to make sure that I had all the documents they ask for. I was carrying two documents extra for each proof.

The reporting time was 2 15. I reached there by 2 just to be sure. I don't know why I had thought that I would be the only person for that slot as they have been so particular about the appointments and schedules. I saw a long queue outside the gate at two. Thinking I was early and fully prepared, I asked the person to let me in. And there was the first shocker waiting for me. He asked me to stand in the line. Since I was early, I readily did so without any arguments.

Now, there were some 15 odd people ahead of me, and 5 more stood behind me in two minutes. I realized that I wasn't a VIP who was allotted this time-slot for the appointment. I was one of many to be submitting my application.

I entered in, got the security check done, stood in the token line for five minutes. There were a few young people standing ahead of me. After good five minutes, I was informed that I was in the wrong queue. That counter was only for senior citizens. I told him that nobody in that line was close to being a senior citizen and I was in fact the senior most there. It didn't work. These people were the ones who were accompanying their parents/grandparents.

So I moved to the next counter. A right one this time around. The lady on the counter checked my application, verified the documents, checked everything. As I said that I was well prepared. And then came the catch - another shocker. I was asked to get an ad published in one National and one Local newspaper. I asked them why they had not mentioned it in the list of documents? They said that they had the power to ask for any documents; even the ones which ain't mentioned in the list. And their decision was the final one.

So yes, in spite of all the precautions and preparations, I came back - empty handed. I had to fill up a fresh application, take a fresh appointment and visit the office again with all the documents. Yes, too much hassle, but still better than the agent route. And the bribe route. I will visit the office a few more times, but I will get this done myself.

Ah, how boring of me!

Realizations

2012-05-25T03:00:00.002+05:30

Like always, I started writing about whatever was going on in my mind. I boasted a lot in the previous post. It said so much about how mahaan I am. I didn't think even once before posting it. But when the comments started pouring in, most of them were about how fabulous I am, patting my back, I felt so embarrassed.

Not that I was not expecting such reactions from people. But so many reactions? That surprised me. The last thing I wanted was to be told how mahaan I was even though I was one. Yes I am weird that way. I love to boast but when it comes to taking compliments, I develop cold feet. Well I have blogged about it, if you read me regularly, then you'd have read it.

Now, how to offend readers - one should learn it from me. I should be thanking them for reading my crap every time I write it. And my craps are too long! But well, they like me too much to bear with it.

Coming back to the non-conceited space, I was discussing humour with a friend. We were talking about how people do not get our style of humour. We went into this depression at some point as we thought we lacked humour. But the conclusion was that we have dry humour which people seldom understand.

Another conclusion of the discussion was that a depressed person should talk to us. We can change a person's mood totally.

I have been a nice daughter. I took mom to the dentist. She is scared of them. She had to undergo cleaning as she caught some infection and cavity problem. And I have realized that I will brush twice a day. Dentists are scary people. They can drill and then kill you easily!

In an unrelated news, this is the third day of writing one post a day. Again a few rants, but yes, a post is up for me. And a lot of realizations. I will write another post tomorrow too in all probabilities about my passport story. Hope that goes well.

The Honest me!

2012-05-24T02:26:00.000+05:30

Two posts back to back has never happened on this space. I have been pretty regular at blogging in past. I remember updating my blog every three-four days. When I used to go out of town, I used to write a post and set it on auto-publish mode so that the blog remains updated. There was a reason behind it - regular posts ensured more comments and followers. How silly!

Slowly it changed. Things changed. Circumstances changed. I started be more and more irregular here. Writing as well as reading blogs. But one thing I am proud to claim - there has not been a single month since I started blogging in which I haven't written any post. Ain't I proud of me?

Days are super busy like always. Apart from the regular work and more frequent lectures, I am busy getting my documents made. I had to change my address on all the existing documents and it is a pain in ass. I started it with the Ration card, then PAN card, passport, driver's license - phew. It's been one week since I have been running from pillar to post to get the documents in place. I filled the online application for the passport and PAN card, but I have to submit the physical documents too at the centre.

While doing these formalities on my own, I realized why people preferred to pay thrice the money and get things done through the agents. These agents not only makes your life easier, but you don't have to move an inch and things reach home. Yes you do have to visit the offices for verification, but that's about it.

And some of the agents even have inside "setting" with some officers. They charge you some more money and get things done quickly. Honestly speaking, I used to be one of such persons too who paid money to the agent to get things done and paid him some extra bribe money too to get my work done quickly and with less number of visits to the offices. But after realizing how our ministers were earning black money, I decided never to pay bribe to anyone to make my life easier.

And this was the first step. And that's the reason that I am struggling. It's been a week since I started the procedure and I have not yet got any document in my hand post the address change. I was lucky enough to get the election card well in time on the current address. This helped me to change the address in the bank account.

I am still arranging all the documents for the passport. And I don't know what will happen on Friday when I have the appointment for documents submission. I hope things go smoothly, and I hope I have sufficient documents. I have been contacting everyone who got their passport made recently to enquire about the documentation.

Nuances of going on the right direction taking the right path. Sigh! And I shall blog about that experience too. Probably a comparative study between the last time when I got my passport made through and agent and this time when I did it on my own! Yes yes, I am going to bore you people with a few more rants and stories.

Nothing to write

2012-05-23T02:34:00.000+05:30

"Nothing to write" can also be written about. Blogging is my therapy. I feel like home when I click on the new post button. The moment I start typing there, I feel my mind becoming lighter. Especially when I am feeling stressed or low.

Life is funny at times. How easy we get attached to people, things, surroundings, comforts. And when time comes for the test, you realize what actually stays with you and what leaves you alone. At times it's a blessing when the thing that leaves you alone is pain. But if it's happiness then? You hit the low.

They say that you expect nothing from life and you will be the happiest person. But does it really happen? Is it possible not to expect anything at all from life? No matter what you claim or think, a time comes when you end up expecting something in return from life. And when you don't get it, you try to detach yourself from that thing out of anger/hurt/ego/emotion.

Then again, this detachment depends on what that thing meant to you. If it did mean something, then you would not be able to stay away from it for more than a few moments. If you can stay away, then it was never meant for you. You never needed it.

Ain't we all like that? We get attached to and detached to things and people as per our convenience? While getting attached or detached, we think about only our feelings and emotions and we don't ever consider the opposite person. I envy things at such times, for they don't have feelings. You use things when you need them and then throw them away. Poor things don't even weep in the corner.

Yes we humans are funny species. We don't know what exactly we want in and from life. We keep running behind void, without paying attention to all the wonderful things around us. And we can't even blame ourselves for that. We never sit and think what do we exactly want from life, from people, from things and from us, ourselves.

And after writing so much about nothing, I still crib that I have nothing to write about. That's how useless I am. For topics like these, I can write a boring philosophical post when I am not at all in mood to read anything heavy be it even my own work. And still I manage to produce crap about the simplest and lightest topic!

God bless me!

Beach memories

2012-05-18T17:57:00.002+05:30

Whenever someone mentions a beach, the first visual that comes to our minds is that of lying on a beach under some shade, sipping a cooler, relaxing in the beach wear, and our skin becoming tan-resistant automatically. If wishes were horses and those horses were for real.. We all have at least one favourite beach destination - Goa, Pattaya, Bali, Male - and so many other places in India and abroad. And all of us have at least one memory attached to those beaches, the water and the shore, the sunset that could make the whole beach look like a paradise..

But if you are born in a town surrounded by beaches, the definition of a beach and fun changes drastically. Just going there and running anywhere and everywhere without a reason and without bothering about anything or anyone is priceless. Don't I wish to go back to those days?

I spent my childhood in a small town called Umbergaon. I lived there for 15 years before shifting to Mumbai. Umbergaon is surrounded by beaches. My school was right on the beach. Whenever I used to get bored in a class, I used to look out and stare at the sea, the waves, the trees, the lighthouse, birds and people. During vacations, it was a ritual to go to the beach everyday to play. Mom always stopped me from going there in the afternoon, for I would fall sick in the summer heat, but I never listened to her. The moment she used to go for her afternoon nap, a few friends and I used to go straight to the beach to play cricket or any other game which could have been played even in our gully.

Slowly and sadly, I grew up, and started bothering about things like complexion and tan and skin tone. I started noticing the difference in my skin tone of hands and legs, and I freaked out. My hands were dark, almost black. Thanks to the Indian mentality of "fair girls are pretty ones", I stopped going to the beach during afternoon. I spent my vacations indoors playing boring games or watching tv.

In a small town, your knowledge is limited to cold cream for all seasons. And I am talking about late 80s and early 90s. Then came the stage when I became wise. I got to know about sun-screens and sun-protection lotions after I shifted to Mumbai.But by that time, I was far away from the beaches I loved and abandoned them for the love of self.

It's been 15 years since I left Umbergaon. It's been around 18 odd years since I went to the beach there in the broad sunlight. I have been to many beach places in the last few years, but this one remains the closest to my heart. It's a beach with huge heart and it will welcome Kyra too with open arms. Visiting the beach you grew up at, running there without a reason, sitting there without worrying about a tan thanks to Lakme Sun Expert - now isn't that an ideal way to have fun?

Here are some pictures of what's in store for you if you visit Umbergaon this summers:

The lighthouse on the beach

Trees

The most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.

So, when do you want to backpack?

PS. This post is being submitted as an entry for the Indiblogger Lakme Diva Blogger Contest.

The Archive effect

2012-05-04T02:38:00.000+05:30

How often do you read your own old posts? Or do you even read your archives? I do. Especially the posts of the current month for the previous years. And it gives me different feeling - there is nothing happy or sad about it - it's just different.

And every time I think that I used to write well. I lack that flow, that touch now. I lack the topics, the flow, the style - everything. I rant, talk about same things again and again. And still people read me and comment. And I am sure I am repeating this too Nth time. Anyway I know I am hopeless like that and will always be this way.

So yes, the archive - the first post, second post, tenth post. Then comes the readers, and you become conscious - about formatting, language, content, topic - everything. You start writing for readers and comments. You start reading for readers and comments. The phase lasts for a few months - your writing is still good, but you ain't entirely yourself.

And then the realization hits you. You become yourself again. You restrict your reading list, stop commenting everywhere. Your readers drop, comment numbers drop. Now you are back to being yourself to a greater extent, but you have kind of lost interest from blogging. Good or bad, the readers did motivate you to write a post on every third day. These days your blog is dormant for days. You don't have anything in drafts. You have a lot to blog about, but it's all the same. Same rants, same achievements, same people and the same you.

You still write it - once in a week, or ten days. The same thing, without bothering, for you have hardly any reader who reads you. Those who do know about you and they are happy reading it. And it makes you all the more happy, for people who matter to you read you and share your life.And the interest comes back. You again start enjoying blogging.

It's not only about reading your archive. Read the old posts of the bloggers you like. There are a few people here whose posts I have read. Each and every post. From day one. And it's such a wonderful journey. You travel with them from beginning to end. You see them evolve as writers. You realize that they are more or less like you, and yet so different from you. And you realize that you connect somewhere, the reason why you are even at their archives reading 3 or 4 years old post.

It is amazing to see the growth of you as a writer. As a blogger. And as a person. You realize how you felt two years back about something and where you are now. And it's possible when you write for yourself. Write about what you feel and what you think. Write your thoughts, write your feelings. And blogging becomes beautiful. Something you don't feel obliged to do, but something you would want to do whenever possible.

Compliments etc.

2012-04-24T02:15:00.000+05:30

I am a bit fame shy person. I do not like to be in the spotlight for any reason whatsoever. And it's a very popular trait of me among friends. They know how awkward I become when someone gives me a compliment. The scene is still better these days as I have learnt to say thank you in spite of being taken aback after the compliment, but I would still prefer a no-compliment scene any day.

Recently, a very close friend A happened to message me that he loves my blogs and I should take up writing seriously. Well, she is a very very dear friend and naturally she will like my work more. I told her that it was just a hobby for me. I have seen amazing writers around. I am not a writer, I am a ranter. I crib. I cannot create stories. A couple of other friends too said that they read my blog. They played safe and didn't mention how it was though :D

But it feels nice when people read you. Appreciation or trashing doesn't matter. I don't auto-publish my posts anymore. Earlier I did. At that time, I didn't have many friends. But slowly as my friends' list built up, I stopped doing that. Now all my accounts are separate. None of the account is inter-connected. Life is good.

And I recruited a couple of people for my firm. It might be a small thing, but it is a big deal for us. After working hard for four years, you are finally establishing your organization - ah bliss. Now the target is a house of my own in Mumbai. That's the toughest target as the property rates in Mumbai are sky high; but well, hope is always there.

Busy days are ahead for me. I will be running around a lot this week as there is a family function taking place before the weekend. And I have some plans for the weekend too. I may make a short trip somewhere if everything works out. Let's hope for the best.

Another ranting post, another show off post - I am practicing what I preach.

Blogs, Bloggers, etc.

2012-04-18T01:05:00.000+05:30

I happened to talk to a blog friend Kavita the other day. We were talking about the kind of readers we used to have, the kind of posts we used to write, the comments we posted, the number of readers we had, common connections and such else. And the most interesting of all was of course the bloggers around us. I remember writing many posts on people - their various traits, habits, characteristics, uniqueness and so on.

Remembering those posts, the idea of writing the one on bloggers struck me. I have been around here for more than three years now, and I have come across many types of bloggers. Not that I am an expert here, but still, you can call me an observant. Apart from being a personal blogger, travel blogger, food blogger, fashion and lifestyle blogger, tech blogger; there are other things that make some bloggers quite unique.

1. "Oh I am so great" types: These people blog about their lifestyle, comforts, awesome travels, their smartness and intelligence and such things. In short, my types. I boast a lot. Each post has some show off about me or things I own or places I visit. And I know a few who do that too. Their regular readers would even know what brand DSLR they use and how awesomely they capture the shots better than anyone around blogsphere. So, these people are too conceited and they love to flaunt. They may/may not be arrogant, but they do boast about every single amazing possession on the blog.

2. Faltu Philosophers: Ah it's fun to read them. They can change your mood in an instant. They can make you sad from being extremely happy and happy if you were suicidal. They are so much confused about positivity and negativity and what really helps them. They are positively pessimistic if you know what I mean. They can write endless about life, it's problems, depression, love and still not get bored of their own philosophies. God bless you if such a character is your friend and you have to read him/her.

3. Pseudo Gyaani: They are similar to philosophers, but they write posts in brief, leave it open ended and then discuss it in comment box. Baal ki khaal nikalna koi inse sikhe. They literally do the postmortem of the topic. When you read the last comment there, rather last few lines of the comment as each comment there would be of two pages, you will realize that the discussion going on in the comment box is nowhere close to what the post is all about!

4. Feminists: No I have nothing for or against them. but I come across so many abala naris around here. Some blog under pseudonym - I have written about that already - and they still take the shit. Some fake their stand, while some copy others' material to make oneself sound profound, sensible and knowledgeable. Write about sensitive issues, blog about them, spread awareness, but it has to be honest and original. Don't steal or lie to gain readers and sympathy. Demotivating the suffering ones is the last thing you should be doing as victims read such stuff to take motivation and guidance.

5. Rant Specialists: That'd be me again. I rant a lot on my blog. About everything and about nothing. I see many people do the same. Rant away, but be interesting there too or don't crib about readers and followers. And rant in brief if you want to be read. And try to make it slightly humorous. I can write one whole post on how to write rant post and how to make it interesting.

That's all from now. After this post, I sound like one pseudo gyaani too who knows a LOT about blogging and bloggers! Do you have any other categories of bloggers to share apart from the regular ones and the ones featured here? Do share it.

Meeting a blogger friend

2012-04-15T00:23:00.000+05:30

Earlier this month, Saroj of 'Sarojs Panorama' blog visited Mumbai. Quite some time back, we had a deal that we would go drinking together whenever she visits Mumbai. At times like these, I seriously thank social networking sites, it was easy for us to get in touch as both of us have not really been regular on our respective blogs.

So thanks to facebook, we got in touch with each other albeit the short notice. The day we were supposed to meet, some last minute changes occurred, I rescheduled my appointments and we ended up meeting not once but twice.

It's not very difficult to guess what two bloggers would usually talk about. Saroj and I happen to have a lot of common bloggers too whom we follow. Day one over a cup of coffee, we discussed about bloggers and blogging. I have always been her fan and she was one of the persons I always wanted to meet.

She is a wonderful person, apart from being a great blogger and a rocking mom. I had a great time showing her some parts of my city. Here is our picture as a memory:

Like most of you must have guessed, life is too busy to update this space. I always try to write something here just as a ritual, but it doesn't materialize. Like right now too, I have ended up writing this lousy post in spite of having such a wonderful topic to write about. But well, Saroj will forgive me I am sure :D

And I shall be back soon with the next post. How soon will be soon? Let some questions remain mysteries.

Flame

2012-03-19T15:33:00.000+05:30

Sitting by the window
Accompanied by my shadow
In a boring room
On a lazy noon
Deep in thought
letting time pass
Lots to do,
But I am hanging around.

Those delicate fingers
taps off the cinders
Fuming into flame; the sparks
Slope of gold and blue and red lurks
The bold face of fire as in hearth
Blown brighter by the breath

Whiff of cold air hits me hard,
I don't know why its sad
The blue blue sky
Is dark and hazy.
I wonder why?
I want to see the bright blue sky
But I just see it dark and hazy

Lots to do,
But I am hanging around.
I am waiting for you
and the blue blue sky...

Image Courtesy: Yours Truly

Verses by: Insignia

Time flies

2012-03-16T00:42:00.004+05:30

Three years - I completed three whole years of blogging. I know many veterans here who have been blogging for five years to a decade; but for me, sticking to a place for three years - regular writing and reading - phew! It's a huge huge thing. Three years seem like a huge achievement too.

There are so many people I have known through blogging. They have become a part of my real life too. Guria, Insignia, Shilpa, Kavita, Merlin, Ugich Konitari, Nu, Kavi, Vivek, Neha K, SG, BK Chowla, Neha H, Arif, Vidhu, Vineet, Sree, Pal to name a few. I know I have forgotten to mention many many more names, but you know who you are.

Thanking these people will be a small thing to do. They will come to Mumbai and hit me if I even use the word thank you for them (well I am taking this for granted), but they have been amazing. And patient. They have listened to my endless rants - on blogs as well as in real life. They tolerate me on various platforms like social networking sites, mobiles, gtalk and where not. They are just a phone call or a ping or a mail away.

And there are others too who have been a very important part of my blogging journey. People who read me, people who hit on the follow button and let me be on their dashboard with every update, people who leave a comment, who visit again and again even though I don't visit their blog. No I am not rude or lazy. It's just that I seldom get time. I read every person's blog who leaves a comment on my blog; but reciprocating with another comment is just not me. The moment I feel that I am obliged to leave a comment somewhere, I back out.

See, I rant on blog birthday too! March month celebrates birthdays for many blogs I follow since beginning. Most of them completed/will be completing three years. Insignia celebrates 4 years, she be my blog senior.

And with that, I sign off. I want the birthday post to be only about birthday and people who are a part of it. What are your wishes for me and the blog? Apart from - just stay this way, don't change, please change, keep blogging and smiling?

Happy Birthday Neha's Blog. May you have a longer life than Neha's so that you can just creep out people out here.

Don't talk. Act too!

2012-03-12T00:30:00.000+05:30

Too many things happen in life that make you happy, sad, frustrated, helpless, emotional, dead and such else. All of us have a different way of venting our emotions out. Some write, some talk to friends, some cry, some party, watch movies. I travel. I take an auto, and travel on Mumbai road. It relaxes me just like a good vacation.

I have seen many people start a blog under anonymity hood, for writing helps them. They write whatever they go through or gone through. One of the topics I have been reading about a lot these days - Domestic Violence. There was one article posted on the outlook site about the same (let me know if you wish to read it, I will give you the link.). I don't want to post the link here as I don't think it's a genuine one. Again, it's my personal opinion. I somehow didn't believe the story completely. It sounds like a bit made up story. Maybe it's easy to judge, but as a lawyer, I have come across many cases of domestic violence. Females have suffered for years, still suffering but they cannot raise their voice due to society and family pressure/reputation.

I don't consider such women weak. They have their reasons to be quiet about what they are going through or were going through. They have their reasons even when they write about what they are going through. But when you start writing about such things anonymously, or when you just keep abusing the family and act like a true feminist but never leave the abusive husband - that's where you surprise me.

Law has so many provisions when a lady is in an abusive relationship. You don't only get divorce, but you are entitled to get a house too along with maintenance money. The court even directs the husband never to enter the premises of the building the wife stays in if the wife has any threats from him. Then why can't one move out when one can write about that and abuse the family?

No, I am not saying that they should keep quiet. But talking that doesn't help in any manner whatsoever doesn't help either. You are discouraging others that way! Many females will make you a role model too, if you don't realize that!

What can be done about it? - First thing is financial independence. Second thing is to take out the fear of loneliness and rejection. Love your own life and things will fall in place automatically. Take legal aid. Free consultancy is available on helplines. Leave me a line, my mail id is mentioned in my blogger profile. There are plenty of sites and blogs to help you. Take the help, don't just yell. Don't bark and abuse. That too anonymously. You are making others lose faith too!

And please don't ever lie about what you have gone through or going through to get readers or attention. Domestic Violence is not as simple to write as you do. The one who has been a victim won't probably be able to write down the complete truth about it. It is too difficult to deal with it. Too difficult to face it. And all the more difficult to reiterate the whole episode. And if you abuse the abusive family you live with, you are at fault too at some point.

It's alright to be a coward, it's alright to run away, it's alright to be vocal, it's alright to leave the hell behind; but it's not alright to fake it or abuse it when you don't want to leave it!

Love Hate

2012-03-05T15:27:00.000+05:30

You are

A poem I never wanted to write

A fear I never wanted to fight

An ocean I never had the strength to cross

A tear I never wanted to wipe.

You are

A dream that was too good to come true

Illusions, reality, mirages, the old and the new

A passion that had the power to destroy me

A hope that could kill so as to survive without you

Now I run, just to find what I have lost

And to lose whatever I have.

And I run, run away from me

To live, go on just to set you free.

I hate you, for my love cannot go beyond that

And I hate you to continue loving you

It’s my love for my destroyer

And my hatred for the survivor. For the fighter.

PS: These are just random thoughts and they have nothing to do with the dead or alive me.

Image Courtesy: http://www.trulygraphics.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/sad-girl544.jpg

That Magical voice

2012-02-28T02:43:00.002+05:30

You travel to various places, meet people en route, share a few moments with them or maybe spend a few days with them and those memories last forever in your mind. People say that it's all in our destiny to meet people. You just accidentally happen to meet someone who turns out to be very helpful to you and makes your trip easier. Sometimes you travel to remote villages of India where there is no electricity supply too. People give you shelter in their home, they give you food they are eating and wouldn't even take any money from you.

I have met many such people too, just like most of you. We Indians are friendly by nature. We love to talk to strangers, make new friends and create that comfort zone for us wherever we go.

But have you ever travelled to meet someone you have just heard of? Some friends visit a place, come back and share the stories with you. Stories about the places and people. A similar thing happened with me too. A few friends visited Pachmarhi - a hill station situated in Madhya Pradesh. They came back with a story about a lady called Ambika. That's not even her real name. Nobody knows her real name. She sits in a Mahadev temple near Pachmarhi and chants shlokas (Sanskrit Verses). And when she chants, her voice echos everywhere. The temple is located on a small hill. You have to climb the hill to visit the temple. The lady sits somewhere en route.

Now, this much information was enough for us to zero on the destination. We were already planning a trip to Madhya Pradesh. We decided to include Pachmarhi in our itinerary just to meet the lady and see how she manages to make her voice reach the whole hill.

When we hired a Gypsy to go to the temple. When we reached near the hill, we could hear a distant voice - something that could be heard very clearly in spite of the non-stop chattering by people around the temple. You will not believe me unless you visit the place yourself and experience this.

We started to climb the hill and the voice started to become clearer. It was loud and crisp. You can feel it touching your soul. I am not a religious person, but there was something magical about the way she was chanting the mantras. You feel like visiting the temple only because you get a feeling that some energy out there is giving her the strength to chant and make herself heard everywhere. After walking for 15 odd minutes, we reached where she was sitting.

That's Ambika. She doesn't talk to anyone. She just chants. People have come and visited her, tried to take her interviews, but they get information from people sitting around her, selling Rudraksha and other things. People shoot her chantings, take her pictures. And nothing of these distracts her. She continues to chant.

Nobody knows who she is. She has been sitting there for the past 27 years. She stays there. That rock is her home. Nobody knows anything about her. Nobody wants to know anything either. She is an integral part of the temple and its heritage. She is the soul of that place. God gives her strength to go on as her voice is a part of the nature. Nobody knows how old she is. And her age doesn't change anything about her voice or the tempo.

Go and meet Ambika to believe me, my story. And you will not regret this trip - my promise.

This post has been submitted for the “Around the World with Expedia” contest organized by Indiblogger in association with, Expedia.

Mumbai v/s Delhi

2012-02-13T02:07:00.000+05:30

Had I written this post two years ago, I would have attracted at least 100 bashing comments on this space. But these days, even the most controversial topic gets a mere 100 page views, which means 5 comments which are from people I know very well. Some time back, I used to nag them and force them to read my post and leave a comment. But these days I have stopped that too. When I get a new comment notification which is once or twice a day, I remember it then that I had written something one two days ago.

Earlier, my routine was - switch on laptop, log in to gmail, open blogger, moderate comments, check dashboard, read the new posts, comment there and then start the daily work. But these days I open blogger once in two three days. Comments can be directly moderated through gmail. This means the workaholic lazy me doesn't bother to check the blogger dashboard at all.

Anyway, this post is not at all about how pathetic you think I am or how awesome I know I am; but it's about a war.

Now, whenever I think of a clash between two rivals, the first few things come to my mind are- India and Pakistan cricket match, Australia-England cricket match (though it's not as popular as India-Pakistan, but observe Tony Greig closely when they clash and you will know what I mean), Nadal-Federer clash, Manchester United-Chelsea chash, SRK-Aamir clash - the list is entertainingly superb. One such rivalry is between Mumbai and Delhi too. Worse than some of the encounters mentioned here.

It so happens that Mumbai and Delhi are two of the biggest cities of India. I have no idea how the war started between the two, but it doesn't take long for any of them to make fun of the other. Some of the things are hilarious, some claims are superb. Delhi is called as the hub of rapes, while Mumbai is supposed to be one of the safest cities.

Now I have not lived in Delhi for more than a week, thus I cannot really comment on it, nor am I gonna speak high of Mumbai just to make this post controversial, but all I am going to write about is whatever funny, amusing and insulting things about the cities written at different places.

This year around, Mumbai saw winters. Real winters. The temperature dipped down to 8.5 degrees. And it has been too windy because of which it becomes impossible to commute by an auto without a jacket. Many people posted about how cold it was in Mumbai. Of course Delhi people thought that Mumbai guys were exaggerating and they couldn't take the little cold. It has been around 3 degrees in Delhi. But what they failed to see was that we have NEVER ever seen the winters. We sweat 24x7, 365 days. It's impossible for us to survive without fans/air conditioners. For us, this WAS cold, damn cold. Sitting in your house in Delhi wouldn't have given you any idea, nor visiting this place after staying in 3 degrees.

One funny remark I read on this was - Mumbai people, what you call cold is "let me go out in full pants instead of shorts" for us. To which someone replied - yeah, your floods are drizzle for us, big deal. I was laughing my heads off after reading this remark. How funny it is when people want to prove how superior their city is.

Another one was about summers - when someone said that Delhi people are so unlucky. They can neither come out during day in winters due to extreme cold, not in summers due to heat strokes. A night, only men can move out as ladies get raped. The counter attack for this was the murders and underworld of Mumbai and how pathetic the crowd and eve teasing was in Mumbai too.

But what took the cake was the Metallica concert which got cancelled. How people attacked one another at that time. Mumbai people calling Delhi guys irresponsible while Delhi guys calling them unfortunate not to even have had a concert there.

And the clothes - Delhi people are more brand conscious than Mumbai people. Mumbai people are more helpful and friendly than Delhiites. Who is more cool, who spends more, amazing Delhi weddings, paani puri vs golgappa, batata vada vs bonda, kanda vs pyaaz and what not. Phew.

But it's still always amusing for me. I really don't care about how superior or inferior my city is. The only thing I don't like is that people overreact most of the times. They can't take a joke on themselves. And if I was as popular now as I used to be, then you would have known what I exactly meant.

So people, peace. This is just an observation. I do not intend to hurt anyone. I love my city as much as you love yours. Read the post neutrally and you may, just may like it in spite of my awful style.

The other side of life

2012-02-08T01:00:00.004+05:30

If there is one state of India that I have explored the most - it has to be Maharastra. From Maharashtra-Gujarat border to Maharashtra-Andra Pradesh border - I have visited almost all the districts. I have lived in big cities, small villages, towns, farms, huts; slept on floor, terrace, under the sky, among the hills. It has always been a different experience, and with each place, the feeling of coming close to visiting the whole of state you live in is great.

A month or so back, I made two short trips to small villages of Maharashtra called Lonore, Varoshi and Parkhande. These are small villages where there are plenty of agricultural plots, and I had gone there for an official visit. Some legal work which involves site visit and inspection. I will not go into the legal part, but the places were beautiful.

The image above is the plot that I visited in Lonore. This is how a typical piece of land looks like in most of the places in this season.

The lady is growing vegetables in the backyard. They use some for home and sell the remaining in the market.

The typical kacchi sadak that takes you to those plots.

The hand pump. Rustic memories. Soul of a village. It carries so many stories for so many of us. There was one hand pump right behind my school in Umbergaon. I have seen a few in other parts of Maharashtra, but none in Mumbai. Since it reminds me of my childhood, it will always remain special. This was at Varoshi.

That's Pinha in yellow and Mangli in white and pink. Met them at the site. Since the time I clicked them, they were roaming around me with the curious expressions on their face and hopes that I would click more pics. And I did. Each time I showed them the clicked picture, their eyes would lit. Since it was a work visit, I couldn't click much as I was talking to the local people too.

This is where those kids stay. Their grandfather gave me a lot of information.

And that was it - two visits in those places. I am not a professional photographer, so the clicks will neither be edited nor be nice. They are random and work related in most of the cases. Still they manage to remind me of what I want to remember. Fair enough!

Small Joys and such else

2012-01-27T00:56:00.001+05:30

That awesome feeling when you fit into your old LBD and it looks good on you? Well if you are a girl who is nearing her 30s, you would know exactly what I mean. Ah it feels weird to even write this down. Dress and me? That too an LBD? Ew, that's too feminine. But I have to attend a party in some fancy pub and I was looking for an appropriate outfit for that. Finally found one and it fitted perfectly. Ah, talk of small joys.

And talking about joys, today was Australian Open Semi Final between Nadal and Federer. Nadal won the match and what a game it was. After Federer winning the first set in a tie breaker, Nadal won the next three and won the game. Most of my friends are Federer fans and some who are Nadal fans, they started following him after he started winning the matches. Very few have actually followed his matches when he was rising on clay court. But well, that's another story.

Another update - I got my third tattoo done. It's on the wrist - a kanji symbol of love. The meaning of my name is love, and I wanted a pretty simple one, thus went for it. Here is the image:

Ah I always have so much to say, but I lack patience most of the times. Another vacation awaits me *fingers crossed*. I hope that materializes too. But all these things are too trivial to even bother about unless you love me and stalk me and want to know what's happening in my life and want to follow me wherever I go (ah, sounds flattering!), so well my life story info can simply be summed up.

In other news, most of you know about me and Guria by now. The bond, friendship, love, ass licking - whatever you want to call it. And it so happens that these days we rarely get time to talk to each other. We miss that and we keep mentioning it on facebook all the time. Both of us read the old posts we wrote, or some mail thread, or chat discussion just to remember and to smile. We need that daily to go on in life.

And each time while reading those old writings, we realize that nothing has changed between us while everything has changed around us. Be it circumstances, timezone, lifestyle, priorities (no, we ain't each other's priority. We are well above that) - and still, everything between us is the same. No I don't have to blog about it and flaunt, but I want a record of everything. It can be done over e-mails, but this is the place from where it started, where we met and the bond grew stronger. This blog and her blog will always remain the dearest to both of us for many reasons. One of them being us.

I miss her being in India when we planned so many blog posts over phone, we talked for hours, small things hurt us, smaller things made us happy beyond imagination, our lives - so different yet so connected. We faced many challenges in the form of people. They made fun of us for saying these things aloud; but I don't blame them. Narrow minds cannot be changed. We might have given them explanation too if it affected us, or if we knew what it was exactly. Thus we ignore.

And she says that I inspire her to blog. I love to read her, and I intend to inspire her all the time if she becomes regular here. So G, here is another inspiration for you!

Love

2012-01-24T00:01:00.000+05:30

I have scribbled endlessly on pages about what love is. Sometimes in my heart, sometimes in my mind, sometimes on a tissue paper and sometimes on blog. Each time, the words changed, moods changed, but love remained constant. Sometimes, the mind didn't understand a word I was writing, and yet, it all made sense. The definitions of Love changed each time, but the meaning remained the same..

Does it make sense? I guess not. It's complicated enough for me to understand. I would not expect you to get the point a bit. But again, a lot of introspection results into such philosophies. But still, it's better that they get out of your system as soon as possible.

Coming back to the topic - love. What do you think love is? We say that each person has a different definition of love. But when you think of it, the definition depends more on the person's characteristics than the interpretation of love.

Love is simple, pure and unconditional. You love the person, that's about it. Nothing comes in between you and the person - no expectations, no insecurity, no jealousy, no ego - nothing whatsoever. Everything else is a result of our thoughts, our mindsets and our upbringing.

Love is. That's all. No strings attached.

Perverts, Go die!

2012-01-08T00:34:00.002+05:30

Let me warn you before I start this post - Each word written in it is the truth, each incident/example mentioned here is my personal experience. After reading the post, if you think that I am sexist and talking like a feminist, then you are right.

I call myself a small town girl. And I have all the reasons to say so. I was brought up in a small town where everyone knew everyone. It was almost impossible to go unnoticed even while having a barf gola during summer vacations, as someone would spot you and tell your parents. People there were innocent, men looked at us like their own children, guys took care of us like they would of their own sisters; until hormones hit them. But even then they never misbehaved or told her anything directly as they feared that the relationship might get spoilt.

After spending 15 years of my life, I shifted in the city of Mumbai. From each and every known face around me to the most crowded jungle - the transition was not a pleasant one for me. Dad had given me one whole list of what not to do in the city; one of them being not talking to strangers.

After settling down in hostel, my life began in the mad city. First day of classes and I took a bus to my destination. Since the stop near hostel was where the bus started from, I didn't face any problem of rush. But while returning, it was pretty crowded. I somehow managed to get in and like many others, found some place to stand. After a few moments, I felt a hand brushing on my butt. I thought it would have been a mistake and thus ignored. After a few more minutes, I again felt a hand touching my thighs. This time I was frightened as I had never experienced such a thing in my life. I moved a bit so that I could avoid whatever and whoever was touching me. This time around, the same pervert pressed his body against me. I got so scared that I got down at the next stop and took a cab to the hostel.

I remember having a sleepless night and I was too scared and embarrassed to even share the experience with anyone. I didn't have class the next day which was a relief, but I knew I'd have to face the same thing again the day after tomorrow. Cab everyday was out of question because of long distance. It'd cost a lot of money and in hostel life is anyway not so comfortable that you can afford the luxury of hiring a cab each day.

Reluctantly, I discussed this with a hostel senior. I would cut the crap about our discussion, but she told me that it was a very normal thing and all one could do was to be careful as to where and how to stand so as to prevent such perverts from feeling you in such situations. I learnt the art pretty quickly too, but still they somehow found a way just to brush their hands at various parts of body while walking or getting down.

That was one of the incidences. Each day, so many females come across such perverts walking on the street. They touch on your thighs while walking, take advantage of the crowded places and purposely touch their shoulder to yours in the hope of touching boobs, some even pinch on boobs in crowd and no, this is not an exaggeration! This actually happens.

I have even had people following me in lonely streets and empty subways of Churchgate station with their d!ck in their hands. Such a thing has happened thrice so far. Yes so far as I don't think such perverts can ever go off the streets. The reason is simple - we are too embarrassed to complain. And too busy to even care. We have become so used to such things that unless something major like an attempt to rape or actual rape happens, we will never raise our voice.

I have even come across so many autowalas who stare at women all the time through the rare view mirror. They touch their hands while taking/giving change, and they do it purposely. Some even pass by very close to a girl and take that exact cut where the girl is standing just to make her jump out of fear and laugh or lust at her.

I have been a "victim" of verbal sexual harassment at workplace too. I do not believe that sexual harassment has to involve physical assault. Talking dirty also falls in that category. I had to leave my job because my boss was a pervert who used to talk dirty with girls all the time in the name of "friendly environment".

So yes, men are perverts. And I am not a kind of feminist who will write any-men posts and hate them. I love men, all the men I know, but I don't mind shooting such perverts whenever they misbehave. Filing a complaint? I think I will consider that option.

PS: People, I am not talking about guys in general here. It's a pity I have to clarify that after reading Sid's comment.

PPS: I was dressed in full clothes during these incidences. I never travel/walk on roads in my shorts or spaghetti tops. Thus your theory of - men stare as women wear revealing clothes stands bullshit here!

Latrophobia

2011-12-29T18:44:00.000+05:30

Thank god the blogger does not deactivate your account if you do not blog regularly. December has been one of the busiest months for me. And it continues to be busy. I don't remember a single day when I was home, except well for today. That too, because finally my body gave up and I am too tired to function today. There is a business trip in Raigad District tomorrow, and I have to be fit for that.

I don't think I have ever blogged about this, but I am very scared of doctors. I cannot visit them when I am unwell. It's a kind of phobia. When I am unwell, I will do everything possible - from regular tablets like crocin and such to dadima ke nuskhe; or I will call up a doctor friend and ask him to recommend me a medicine for whatever illness I have. He is strictly against it as it's not advisable to prescribe to medicines without checking the patient; but he gives in most of the times!

My problem is that I cannot visit a doctor for my illness. I have this phobia that they will end up voicing out some illness which is incurable or unheard of. Same thing happened yesterday too. It took me great courage and 8 days of non-stop headache to visit a doctor. So far I was thinking I was suffering from migraine, but I was wrong. And my fears came true yet again when the doctor announced that I was suffering from cluster headache.

Cluster headache? I had never heard about it. I started to panic. I asked him what exactly it was, he was about to explain when a nurse came running as there was some emergency. I waited for him for about 20 minutes in tension. Finally he explained to me what it was exactly. He said it was not a bad kind of headache, but it may cause a lot of pain when the attack is at its peak, and the pain may last for days too. He was worried as he knows me well, and after the examination diagnosis, he said it was a bit serious and I should be careful, but other doctor friends said that it was not so bad. I hope it is not.

And thanks to the headache and medication, I have finally got a day off. I am not working right now and resting. I guess these medicines may have its side effects such as weakness, but yeah I am feeling totally drained out. And resting at home. And blogging to finally after so many days. I miss this place.

In other news, I celebrated my birthday this month. Friends threw a bring in bash for me. That's such a teenage thing to do, and I had so much fun. We got drunk on Irish Cream, watched The dirty Picture (which is an awful movie), talked all night, went for lunch the next day, spent the evening with family and met other set of friends for dinner. In short, it was a wonderful birthday for me. And loads of gifts too.

And new year is approaching too. I don't have fancy plans. I will be working on the 31st, a small house party at a friend's place and back home the next day. Wish you all a very happy new year in advance. What are your plans?

Philosophical Nostalgia

2011-12-12T22:16:00.000+05:30

A year or two back, I remember writing a post on how boring philosophy is. And I had started that post with a super philosophical paragraph. I always thought it was beyond me and my feeble understanding. But life and time teach you so many things. It surprises me sometimes when I go from normal to philosophical effortlessly and in no time. It's not a big deal, really. All you have to do is talk some positive and intellectual shit using a few heavy words. Elaborate a simple sentence in a profound manner and dang - you are a philosopher.

I meet so many people each day. Everyone has a different take on life before and after a few drinks. And it's amusing to hear about their stories. How sad/happy they are before drinking, and two pegs down how things change suddenly. How senselessly sensible they become, how they look at life and talk about it. If only they applied all those principles in life, they wouldn't be drinking with friends.

I guess it's to do with age as well. I remember discussing about girls, boyfriends, heartbreaks, crushes, movies and such else during college. Then came the time when we discussed about work pressure, performance, target, promotions, lay offs, career options, marriages, family etc. And now mid-life crisis has hit us so bad that each of our discussion revolves around life and fight to survive. All of us have some or the other problem, nobody is entirely happy in one's life.

We fight. We work. We slog our asses off just to be happy, and at the end of the day, are we really happy? If I talk about me, I don't have any social life as such. There were times when I met friends without any reason and whenever I felt like. Now, I have to think 10 times before making such leisure plans with them. We go to fancy restaurants, good multiplexes or a nice holiday destination, but none of the meetings take place outside college, on marine drive, checking wallet before planning a movie, eating in fancy restaurants only when we get some birthday treat - that time was happier.

And no, I am not unhappy. Maybe I miss the simple and less complicated life. I miss the carefree and responsibility free life. I miss those nonsense conversations about nothing. And I miss being happy without any reason. Just a good sunny day made me happy, finding a 100 Rs. note in old book or bag made me jump with joy, birthday preparation started with shopping almost a month in advance.

Looks like I got lost in the memory lane. Philosophy can turn into nostalgia too I believe.

Just another post

2011-12-04T15:01:00.000+05:30

The biggest disadvantage of not having anything stored in your draft is that when you want to update your blog and don't know what to write about, you are stuck. Busy times are back again. Monsoon season is usually a relatively free time for us professional. I happened to discuss it with a friend who has his own firm too, and he pointed it out. When I see the trend for my firm as well, monsoon slows down the business. Weird it be, but it's true.

Everyone is aware about Mumbai monsoons. Because of that, lectures get canned too. I love to work all the time, but these days, I miss my free time when I can just spend some time with myself. Since I am good at multitasking, I talk to people while working. But I miss reading, and writing. I miss blogging - reading as well as writing. Some days, when I get a bit of free time, that time I don't feel like logging onto blogger and write something.

Ah I sound lost. Rather, I am too happy to care. Happy as I am finally writing something. Happy because finally I am so busy with work that I don't have time for anything. And this happens to be my birthday month too. I turn a year older.

I visited Goa last week. It was a fantastic trip. Very much rejuvenating and well deserved. I am right now at a time when I take a vacation when I need to. I want to take my next vacation when I want to. I can do that easily as I have my own practice. I have Pondicherry and Auroville on cards. Let's see when it materializes.

That's about it for now. There are many things to write about on my mind, but I am not in mood to write about those. I shall be back soon, pretty soon!

Typo story

2011-11-24T16:18:00.000+05:30

So many of my posts are a result of conversations I have with people around me. A few people I love to talk to are not in the same town as me. Thus the only contact point is messengers and/or e-mails. I remember those days when I used to share an e-mail thread of 100 + mails with a few people within a span of an hour. Yes, there is always an option of calling up, but e-mailing has its own charm. And no it's not boring or pathetic if you really love the person.

And so the story starts. Now, people around me are amazing, that goes without saying. But they are mere mortals after all. And they make a lot of mistakes while typing. A few mistakes can easily be overlooked, but when one makes more typos than the actual sentence, you can be sure that it is written by Guria.

Now a days, she blames it on auto-correct. Yeah yeah, I believe her. Her each typo is epic. It makes me laugh like crazy for sure. While she apologizes for the typo, she makes a couple of more of them. Ah, she is mad.

Funnier thing is, she makes typos even when she types out an emoticon. Every single time. She gets it right in third of fourth attempt. Just to cover it all up, she starts praising me as she knows that's the best way to embarrass me. Kids will be kids.

And now I know I shall be murdered for this post. But I solemnly swear that each word of this post is true. And it was long overdue as well as I had told her more than a month back that I'd blog about this. The busy me and lazy me never got to write this one.

And finally I take a break, after almost a year. After a very refreshing trip to MP last year, this year I go to another beautiful destination. I shall blog about it if I have the patience and interest, otherwise see you soon with yet another rant.

Beauty of thoughts

2011-11-12T15:23:00.001+05:30

It's one of those days when you are itching to write something. Words are beautiful. They can express your heart, your mind, your soul. They have the power to hurt you, to make you smile. They have the power to possess you as well as to destroy you, they can make you and break you at the same time. They flow naturally sometimes; at the same time, they can make you chase them to find the correct ones.

Each one of us creates stories in mind. For every situation we face. Especially while sitting idle, while travelling. Even while reading, the mind wanders. It creates stories on paper, it writes them, and erases them. Each time, the mind creates a new world for you - a perfect one. Things work as they are written. There are no surprises, only happy instances. No sorrows, no pain, no grief. Just a happy journey lasting for a few moments. A scene you can die for, a moment you can wait for your entire life. It looks so beautiful, surreal and pure, perfect beyond any perfectness.

Words have magic. Words have feelings. They can breathe. They have a heart that beats. You can hear them breathing if you listen to them carefully. You can feel them casting their spell on you. You can't help but fall in love with this magic. There is an invisible cord that pulls you closer each time you read and feel them.

Have you ever felt the words? Reading a book for the first time, and reading the same one 10th or 20th time - the feeling is different. Each word feels like a verse on those tattered yellow pages. The fading title resonates with your own life. This be the same book that grew up with you and grew old with you. Its pale skin reminds you of its loyalty towards you. It is almost worn out, but it has retained its magic as yet. Howard Roark is still the guy you desire and you have a passion for, John Galt is still a mystery which is too good to be true. Atticus Finch is the hero we need right now.

These books talk to you. They answer your questions. They become your companion in loneliness. They absorb your tears and don't complain. They love you back - more than you love them. They stay locked for months and years, see you getting close to other books. They age in depression. You can smell their sadness when you open them, you can see the patches of their dried tears on the otherwise crisp white paper. They have lost their youth behind waiting for you, but still embrace you without complaining.

They stare at you when you are lost in your scotch and forget to acknowledge them. They stay close to your heart when you hug the sleep, they will fall hard on the floor and don't move until you pick them up and lock them once again. They keep aging, tattering, shedding tears, waiting for you to acknowledge them.

It's all about words at the end. Words written on them complete them. Words written by you in your mind define you. Each time you write a line, you change. And your words accept you. It's a power to create this world in your mind. It's a power to create such thoughts. And this power is addictive. It takes you everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

And this power is beautiful..