My maid...

is so sweet...

She is almost like me...

Hahaha!

She cries at the drop of a hat, is a sentimental idiot. ANd does what she can do, to the best of her abilities and worries its not good enough. Fair! I should say. Because that is just like me...

I do my best, mostly it isnt the very best available around or in the industry, so there.

But I love her for her conscience. For trying her best, even if its not the brightest in the industry!

She cooks real bad, I have to keep harping it in. And her cleaning skills are just good. But she loves the kids, and has fun with them, I like that. I hate her taking so much freedom, as if the kids were her own...Hah! That leaves me feeling queasy...

And when she scolds the doctors for not treating kids with the meds that cures quickly and all that I am like ROFL, thinking of her concern...I just pray to Lord, tht I never discover that it was fake. But I also pray to God to keep my instincts sharp, so that I can detect the fakeness in its first come!

Thats it!

No Response

Sometimes no one wants to respond to real issues. Just a single reco from an old man. If you write chik lit or romance or tik-chik tik chik stuff, people respond soo easily. And when it comes to social awareness issues, that really needs a lotta public attention, people wince to participate.

What a sad gone to the dogs world!

I wish I could make a change- a real change!

On another note that editor, he never called back with the photo shoot dates...So tuff this wait!

I know it will work out eventually, but somehow patience is just not my forte :(

Walking

I have been walking the past two days, to be a fitter me!

And I cant walk at all today. My kneecap pains like an old groucchy woman's.

I drove alone to Spencers yesterday! Yay!

And I talked about Misma somewhere today. Sad stuff, sad girl..

All I need is to be free...

Some days, you just want to be plain lazy, even when you are at work or whatever.

 

Like while away your time, laze around, maybe sleep a bit, stretch a little- O languorous summer afternoons, how I crave for thee...

 

I wish I was at home, watching TV or the Bridget Jones movie which I missed, an egg sandwich in hand, a cup of hot milky coffee, the right sugar, the right filtering, and coffee should be Bru - No nescafe, no Maxwell, no nothing else!

 

I wish my F was not sick and didnt have to miss his school. I wish I could lose all the weight that I wish to lose. I wish I could drive as well as I imagine. I wish I was in Bangalore with my mommie darling, I wish I had a magic wand and make Fa see the light of reason, I wish Fa could balance between mommie and her hubby, I wish I also lost weight, I wish I won a lottery, I wish I qualified for his certifications soon and got the wunderjob that he wants, I wish I could fly, I wish I had a bunch of maid of orleans[ jasmine] on my table right now, I wish I was eating soanpappadi[ only haldiram's] right now, I wish I could join Bharathanatyam classes again, I wish I could take singing lessons, I wish I could complete the book I so want to write, I wish I could go skiing in the alpines, I wish could decorate my home with fresh roses every single day, I wish my dying Fern would revive, I wish at least one of the RamaThulasi sprouts made it to a big plant on my window sill, I wish I could always wear glass bangles, rainbow colours, even to office, I wish N's baby got well soon, I wish Sure got a job, I wish someone could walk, I wish V would reconcile his differences with his gf and marry soon and have babies, first a girl and then a boy, I wish S's hubby wasn't impotent, I wish Mishmas to get married soon, I wish Me to find her bearings, set her priorities right and get married to a normal decent person, I wish I could learn to play Papa kehte hai on guitar, I wish I and me died together at the same moment, I wish we live to be real old and real happy and real healthy and F and I are well settled and fulfilled in life, I wish we both walk hand in hand till the end of time and disappear on the sands of time, I wish I could see Bi and Bi and S and R, I wish I wouldn't have wrinkles even when I turn 50 or 60, like Shobha de or Vandana Luthra, I wish I could go on a world tour every year from this year, I wish I could build our dream home, and wake up to the sounds of bird twitters and stream gurgles every single morning, I wish I could be an author like Paulo Coelho, write biennial books, have the same will and righteousness in life, I wish I won the booker, pulitzer or nobel for writing, I wish I would live a fulfilled and enlightened person, I wish... I wish ...I wish...

 

I wish for the stars, I reach for them...

 

Some day I will be truly free....

 

 

LOUSY GMAIL!

 

 

I lost two of my gmail ids in a span of one week. One couldn't match my username and password (which was the correct password) and the other just got disabled!

 

I have sent umpteen correspondences to their technical support team, but all seem to have fallen into useless hands. I get their automated reply and a template reply, which was almost same for both the ids.

 

This was the reply to my last woe plea to them

 

 

Hello,

Thank you for your report.

 

Google takes abuse situations like this very seriously. We apologize for what you have experienced in this regard.

To help us process your request as quickly as possible, please fill out a report: https://www.google.com/support/accounts/bin/request.py?contact_type=ara&ctx=accounts

Provide as much information as you can: if you're not sure about something, tell us whatever you think might be helpful.

Please note that we don't need your password or other sensitive information, and we encourage you to keep such information closely guarded.

Upon receiving the above information, we'll investigate the issue further and report back to you as soon as possible.


Sincerely,

The Google Team

 

 

I still haven't got my ids enabled and I have lost all hope.

 

And even though, it isn't a tragedy of life altering proportions, I feel low and down and stupidly idiotic, for not saving my gmail contacts and for giving that id for all my freelancing contact works!

 

I also feel conceited for feeling sooo bad about just a stupid mail id, after all, there was life before mails and there will be life after mails, in the same exuberant, enthusiastic sprightly way, yet…

 

My mom used to say, "She can't bear to lose even a needle, she takes care of her things so well!" Yea, I am obsessed about my possessions, even though not in a materialistic sort of way. I don't yearn for rich and branded stuff, or for the in and style stuff, but whatever little I own, I take good care of them.

 

So it goes without saying that I feel like an absolute at-loss, even when it's something as easily replaceable as a mail id!

O well! I gotta stop these woe-be-me rants. What the heck! I am just gonna create a new id and carry on, BUT NOT DEFENITELY ON AN UNRELIABLE ERRATIC GMAIL. A HUGE BOO TO GMAIL!!!

 

Just for the records, I was a huge fan of gmail, I used to recommend it to all my friends. But how can one trust a system that just disables your ID one fine morning, with no errors, no warnings and no REASON! So FOLKS, backup your data with gmail!

 

GMAIL, you just earned yourself a stoic enemy from an arduous fan!

 

And I must remember to dissociate my blogger from gmail!

 

If I have any good news from gmail, I will update this! And what a huge if that looks like!

Finally...good driving

Today finally I drove fine! NO blunders! No safety bloopers! No wrong horns!

 

I am slowy becoming the kinda driver I wanna be. YAY!

Some people are so crass...

Sometimes people do anything to get a topic, A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G

 

Its a dog eats dog world...what I wanna say is some people will even eat dogs to make it news,ewww. So gross.

 

So the King of Crap, yest dished out his pages, with the one sent I sent on private nw. What a south end of an ass!

 

But hes said it all in there itself, unless you dish out real good stuff, why would anyone leave an opinion unless they are in some way obliged to them. Like for instance they were nice to you on your stuff.

 

Another Superdash, I guess. Sometimes I wonder, if its the same guy in a new avatar! In some weirdo angle, I even feel he looks like the same guy. Whatever.

 

People, they go to any extent to get popular(notorious is more the right word!)

 

And when in dearth of topics or excitement will throw their mothers on the dance floor, just to watch her drunk- binge- makeout. And then make news or movies outta the crap. Look- what- my- mother- did- last- night, would be the name of the clip. NO! REALLY! They do. You don't know such people, I Know many such, in fact two is the count on free space, for real!

 

No wonder the paparazzi hound Brit or Lohan. This cheap slut- of- a -man does it for free, on the freespace for no stakes at all. Just cheap publicity stunts on a freespace of no value. Just imagine what this kinda people would do, if they were offered money for doing this. They wouldn't mind taping Brit on her throne. Crap!

 

Maybe I am jealous...Maybe I am wrong...

This is in no way a grouse against mommy. I know what a great mom she is. I need no convincing on that part or any certificates from any external sources to martyr her for what she has done.

And I also know that had it been any of these people who are trying to patronize or martyrs her by talking great of her, wouldn’t have done anything better than what she has done. So quit all that great talks that my mom is great. I feel like puking when I hear that.

And if I were grown up enough or knew as much as I knew now, I would have forced her to go find a life of her own, instead of wasting it on thankless children like us. Period.

That said, I know what a great lady she is, and that I am not half as good as her. And my bloody thankless sisters, not even a quarter of me. I think quality diminishes with the age group. Anyways.

I was just overhearing Ri talking to her mom through the phone. The luck of being a single daughter. Her mom must be roughly my mom's age.

Her infant is under the strong custody of her mom and her older dotty returns home to her mom. How bloody lucky. At least for those innocent kids, I am happy for them. Some people just have it all.

MY babies are smaller than hers and I had such a tough time with my preggie state and another baby in hand and this job. I never had the comfort or luxury of having my mom with me. And even when she was here, my mom wasn’t deft or strong enough to handle my kids. The maid was always in vogue.

Look at Ri, they dismissed their part full time maid and now has someone who comes for two hours of the day. So mom's the new maid and babysitter. Not that I want my mom to be a maid at my home or a babysitter, still...just look at the luck of catty Ri. Man! Some people have it all.

So, I am all and mighty feeling pretty jealous. Not jealous that Ri had a maid cum babysitter cum mom, but jealous that I miss my mom so much...

I miss sleeping on her hands and talking to her. I miss the affection and attention of the person who loves me most in this world.

And it breaks my heart that my sisters can be so cruel to her. One after her bitch of a husband and the other behind the X guy. What has my mom done to deserve a life like that?

When I was smaller (and sometimes even now) I used to wish that there was soap that would magically wash away all the pimples on my face and give me a clear skin.

Nowadays I wish I had a magical wand, which would set my sisters mindsets straight and make them see the daylight. Indirectly that would make my mom happy.

Other than dad's death, I wish she had nothing to really worry about. How I wish...

Why can’t people just be normal? Why cant brother's and sisters love one another and their parents unfailingly and unconditionally.

Why can’t I have all the money he needs and quit his worry of not being one of the richest people on earth?

Why can’t we just love one another so deeply and truly that there would never be a trace of doubt in our minds?

Why cant things just be simple and normal?

Is it all too much to ask for?

The Quirky Six

If there are six degrees of connection and six people like us, then someone somewhere must be going through what we went through, isn't it?

 

And why the six angled hexagon connection? So that means if we find and put together the six people, in a sum up, they would have gone through the same set of situations, the same gains, the same losses, the same stuff.

 

So does that mean that when you read a contemporary live writer, or see a painting by an artist, or a poetry by a poet and if each and every word they write identifies with what you feel and have gone through, then they are part of your six circle.

 

I am dazed by the connections some people experience. Like the blind anklets in Del's family, like the unhappy happiness of a marital home, like the longing and thirst in Del's writing, sometimes the total contentment in being the way she is, the part identification with music, nature, songs, dance, love...

 

And then there is Abandon, where word to word of our love themes match, the thirst and the sense of unbelong, the feeling that none loves as us. As is said, the fascination, the charm, the beauty is in the concept itself. Is it? I wonder if true soul mates doesn't exist. I am sure they do, sometimes I am awed by the thread of beautiful love that exists between Morgan and Melisaa. I haven't heard from her for a long time, I certainly hope they aren't going through a messy divorce or anything. From what I have read and known, I think there exists a real classic contemporary case of real love.

 

As Abandon says, I don't think, the paramount of love is because there is always tragedy involved at the end of it...No, there must be some muthassan and muthassi like in Minnaminunginte nurungu vettam, who really stood for one another and slowly died together on the banks of Bharathapuzhya.

 

I am sure Love does exist in its fullness, in its depth and in its truthful honesty....somewhere...betwixt two normal humans...in all places....just they don't come in the limelight...

 

When there is tragedy involved, it is highlighted, as in Khalil Gibran's, as in many other unrequited, unfulfilled loves...that's all...

 

When it is realised, people are so content in its aura, they don't need mediums or even other people to patronise or accept them.

 

They are happy to be. Just to be...

 

 

Yes and No

"No, not now."

"I am tired." As he moves a soft hand over my midriff, sqeezing softly. Sex always begins with a No.

"You dozed off. Thats why the tired..."

I know that too. I give in to is soft touches, unwillingly, yet always willing by the end, as always.

And then we climax to a burst of beautiful rhythm. He does it everytime, make me moan in delight and pleasure despite my Nos. And I love it better than him, his love making.

"We are mad people," I laugh.

"Why mad, we are the right kind of people, having fun, having life..."

He hugs me tight. I sleep in peace. In the crook of his arm, my best pillow ever.

Unworthy Priorities

When they called me for freelancing from THE MAG, I was like in seventh heaven. I was searching for topics and that is when Cools suggested her Art old man. But the old man is an old f I think. Crazy crackpot. This is my first assignment, hence am looking for something thats easy. I should have known better, and took up someone who was worth the name. I hope I dont lose my face on selecting such a ho-hum person. He seems to be so unworthy of this whole deal.

Coming to AD is tough bt for a rookie like Art OldMan, it must be the best deal thats ever come his way for publicity. So why is he shying away? Some people are like that only, huh? Never know how to get their priorities right

Muted Connections

I loved what I wrote yest, I mean the poetry on the mahila. It was inspired from Abandon's profile picture.

 

The unruly hair on the forehead, the eyes that didn't smile and the looks that eats into your soul. Its not the facade that really inspired me, but the expression, the way it spoke a hundred words to me through a picture, silent, harsh almost scalding, almost chiding, almost reprimanding me to be what I want to be, instead of camouflaging the *real* me.

 

It struck a chord with the wild gypsy child. In a language of silence, in a language of muted connections.

 

And then, the clouds dissipated, the humidity came down, the anger boiled out. There was the breeze, before the thunder rains, the silence before the rumbling pitter-patters. It started smelling- of wet earth and musky emotions. I opened the windows of my heart. I felt a shiver run through me. I smelt the heavenly dirt smell. And then a single drop- as heavy as a terracotta pot of water- it plopped on my forehead, slid down my eyelashes, washed out in my tears, and ran down my cheek, the first drop of a rain that came smattering down in downpours, harsh, unrelenting, rough, that it almost hurt me as each drop pelted with a force as sharp as dagger stabs.

 

I am in love with the rains, just as I am in love with him. Both taunt me, just the same- in the same ways. Both hurt me, just the same - in the same ways. Rough, unforgiving, harsh and urgent. There is no wait to be tender. There are no soft touches. There are no foreplays. Just a wild untamed wanton fierce possession - You are mine, No two ways about that.

 

And I give in, yield - to the rain, to you.

 

Over and over again.

 

I hate the strength, I hate my helplessness, I hate my surrender. But I am in love with the rains, with him. No two ways about that.

 

And wait for the next rain, the next pounding, the next pain. And wait for you to love me that way again.

 

For another moment, another word, another picture to inspire me to come again, to rain, to you. Passionately, unrestrainedly. Ready to feel that pain in love, that moment of passion, that esctacy of unremorse. For once again, I will be me. For once again, I will shed the mask of my grace to the world- to the rains that wash me over, to you that take me over.

 

Across the distance, across the vacuum, across the static of untouched touches...take me over, wash me out.

 

Rains and you - and the muted connections.

 

 

Misery seeks no company...

It takes very little for mood swings...Sometimes it can be the onstart of cycles and flow, sometimes it can be the hormones, sometimes it can be PMS or MS too...

 

Yesterday's driving took a big toll on my mind. IT just keeps haunting. CAnt seem to forget the mistakes I made and the petrification I felt.

Compounded by the fact that he didnt even call to check up on me. I know, I know, he was real busy and he has the inaguration on 14th and he works at 45 Degrees Celsius and that he is stressed. Still, still how could anyone forget someone they love? When they know, the other person is an emotional and sensitive wreck. And the roads, so dangerous? If I were him and he me, would I have forgotten. I WOULDNT have! I know that for a fact.

 

Plus, I went and read all my diaries of 2001 to 2004 yesterday evening. How naive I was! ANd how naive I am still! I see the same emotions echoed then, just that then it was the cd release, that was the excuse for the emotional wringers. Now, his office, his RE project at home is the time drainer.

 

What can be summed is that, at any point of time, there will be something for him, that keeps him occupied or rather preoccupied. Which means family, children, all take a back seat!

 

If then, he pet and pampered me like a fragile doll, now he pets his babies. Which again implies that as time goes by, there will be more important things to him, than his babies.

 

Am I married to a flitter? A person who passes through life, always looking for other things, always making excuses for a real emotional commitment, siting reasons of hope and money in a distant future? A person who doesnt value the here and now, who doesnt enjoy what he has for NOW.

 

IF money and projects was his only aim in life, then why the hell did he get married? Whats the point in draining other people's life? To eyewash a larger public? To satisfy his parents? WTF!

 

O, woe be me,

misery here I am all thine...

 

 

Phobia...

This fear, at the end of every cycle, of an unknown impregnation looming large in horizon, I wonder how many go through them?

Am I the only freak, who is so phobic about pregnancy or are there more like me?

You know what, I quit talking about how nice it is to know other people are having their own bundles of joys for fear of having to eat my own words? Just today, just today, I bit my tongue and stopped myself, from describing how nice it would be for my colleague who has had twins this week. I stopped short of describing the baby boom thats happening in my office since Feb. Its been a baby year this year at the Technorati- an entire mezz floor...Awwww Cute! And I bit my tongue

I hate being a woman! There never was any liberation..there never is going to be...whatever :S

Another drive...another lament...

I had to go for car service today-the first freaking one, the free one. It was also another first for me, I drove more than 5 kms alone for the first time today.

All I feel like doing now, once I have reached the safe haven of home is to cry. Why am I such a loser in driving now- me who used to dream of driving SUVs and zipping past deserts -me who used to dream of being a pilot-me who used to compete with bullets on the way to college on a mere scooty- how did that me transform to this wreck of nerves now! How? How? How?

Thank God I didnt cry inside the car, as I tried to reverse my car out of the Al Futtaims service center. What a mess I made. Someone waited for me to park in my vacant spot and that lady just drove off...And then the Arab, wth his "Yallah" What the hell with being so rude. Its my life and its my car and its a free road, I will go as slow as I please, YOU HAVENT APPENDED THE LANES OF UAE TO YOUR FAMILY PROPERTY isnt it?

But forget about other people, its their momentary impatience. I can forgive them. WHat I cant forgive is myself. Where has that competitive, enthusaistic, energetic, bold, courageous, smart me gone? Why am I like this?

Can living with a man, who pampers you and lets you do nothing on your own make you this bad? Can domesticity make a wimp out of you? Is this what I wanted to be?

Why have I become like this? Main Aisa kyun ho gaya?

I want to be the old wind...the tempest I once was...the butterfly who fluttered...the strong bird that once flew around...I will not forget what Robin said once, when Srini was looking for me, "Daa Avidae parannu nadakunnundu"...in my electric blue crepe churidhar...the steps of EC, the corridors of a government college...the challenges I had for myself....the bold girl who drove the red scoty...dangerous...bad...fast...furious...electrifying...yet sweet...adorable...n lovable...

Where is she?

In heart I am still forever the 20 year old, who dreamt a lot, who wanted the first love to be the last one, who dared and wished to be dared..

But somewhere mazhya has lost the dreams on the way, lost her way itself...

Where is she?

Uff

Uff Finally atleast blogger lets me post something...Its checking spam and hence not lettimng me see the blog 0_0 :S :(

The lil happy guy

My lil guy had his PTMeet today. He tells me at home, "My teacher, the teacher with a beautiful smile."

I told that to his Miss.Ju. She also said "Lil one has a beautiful smile. I also like his smile!"

Wow! I am like totally impressed, she is great!

Then, she asks, "F, you didnt tell me you have a lil sis?"

To which F goes, "This is my baby."

Double wow! F calls his lil sis his Baby! Masha Allah! Let him think so forever. Let them have a special soul sharing..special brother sister relation..be there for one another in silent strong soul ways...till they exist Alhamdulillah!

And Amen! to that!

Lil guy has made some mistakes in his tests, but frankly I dont care. He is too little for serious drill and I am happy with what he is...

Miss.Ju says he is active, picking up for his age, and quick, smart and good boy!

I am happy today :)

Small Things matter

Sometimes even small stuff disturbs you
And makes u want to stare at the details

What would I do?

Sometimes what you wish for just lands in front of you
Like an open open open treasure chest

But what if you don't will to put your mind in there...
What if you just feel like walking off?

NeverLand

Sometimes I am Tinker Bell and sometimes I am Wendy.

The story in neverland is such that Wendy learns to accept her adulthood, but mazhya doesnt. Sometimes she still believes she is the 14 year old that she once was, in a world where her daddy was alive, where her mummy neednt be the single parent and her sisters still babies with hairs styled on forehead and hanging on to her every word.

Mazhya is a free being, a free will, a free spirit...wishing for peace harmony and love all around her, for people to just love...be free in love...be alive...

Mazhya loves being wild, being a child, being with other children, beings who dont judge, who dont try to cheat, who dont want anything in return.

Mazhya wants to dream, love, and live...life to a full...no sadness, no depressions, no tears...