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For Mumbai…….

29 Nov

Its hard to come to terms with what has happened in Mumbai. I set out to write a poem for the innocent but I couldn’t. If only words could satisfy grief.

The Mumbai incident episode has been put to an end. But is it really the end or is it the end of a new beginning or the beginning of the end.

Failed to comprehend why it all happened. Failed to understand the motive.

Terrorists at least have an open agenda. The politicians are those who are the ones who have a hidden ulterior motive, a secret agenda. Who do we blame?

Our neighbours?
The politicians?

Why do I say that?

Because it is our fault. We as a generation are not just growing trend wise,economy wise but also increasingly becoming efficient in not putting terror to R.I.P but initiating every bit of it.
We choose the people.We choose the government. We have no right to crib. No right to complain. No right to point fingers at others when we ourselves are to be blamed.

We as citizens should realize for once that it us who define our country. No matter the atrocities and the hatred that we have built in among ourselves, we must realize that someone somewhere needs us irrespective of caste and religion.

61 years and we aren’t young. We should have learnt from our mistakes a long time ago.

Stop blaming and start playing.

Chess board set. The lines drawn. The players in position.

I, pledge today to do whatever it is that I can to help minimalize activities of vengeance, hatred and fear.

I am going to face it when its comes to me. I am ready.

Are you?

“and the billion candles burning
light the dark side of every human mind

and each small candle
lights a corner of the dark…”


25> 50 :D

1 Oct

As it has been declared that it is Eid tomorrow, everyone goes mighty mad the way they do every year. I don’t understand the logic behind going nuts shopping for a festival! I mean what’s going to happen if you actually don’t get the right kind of dress..I am sure you wouldn’t fall on that side of the poverty line.

I am sure no one would really go hungry in your house if you didn’t cook a lavish meal because food just keeps pouring in from all corners.

Anyway, I went out and got my stuff today after a week of ragging by my Grandmom. Its all good. She thinks I dress too less not in terms of the amount of clothing I put on but the kind of clothes that I wear. She says they are insufficient to make me look like a girl. No clue what point she wants to make. I have enough boobies to make me look like a girl *Too much information not required*

Now this year I planned on surprising her by being “elegantly” and “femininely” dressed so I planned upon getting a pair of matching bangles and earrings and all that jazz. So after getting the kurti from Shoppers Stop, I decided upon going to Lad Bazar. For all you noobies who haven’t ever been to Hyderabad, Lad Bazar is at Charminar where you get the most amazing bangles in the world * its a universal claim by all womankind so shut it*

So I am at there and let me give you a little insight. Lad bazar is always full of people. Men, women, children, idiots who don’t really know how to park their cars, scumbag cyclists who park their treasured wheels in places of cars. There is hardly any place to walk and there is no such thing as a pavement.

No sir ! Pavements are banned. In India, you walk on the road like you own it !

So anyway getting back to topic, I was making my way through the crowded street of a strangely familiar area. I know this place yet I am always confused. I find a decent looking shop and make my way in. I stand at the counter looking for a pair of matching studs or hangings. I wanted to look all girley and strangely the thought excited me 😐

A while later a woman in her early thirties walks in balancing a zillion handbags. Almost all of them are branded. She looks well educated too and by well educated I mean decent looking, not the usual “burkha” clad women who are too loud for their own ears. She was nice ! Like how black RnB singers will call a woman FINE in that typical accent in every song they sing. *Fiieeeeeennn*

One of the young attendants approach her and she asks for matching jewellery, make up and bangles *wow…some people have all the money to waste*

Educated Woman: Bhaiyya woh dikhana ( Brother, show me that)
Attendant: yeh wala madam? ( This one madam?)

EW: Nahin, uske side wala ( No, the one on the side)
*Attendant takes it out and shows it to her*

EW: Kitna lagarein bhaiyya? ( How much are you labelling it brother?)
A: pacchis rupaye madam ( 25 rupees madam)

EW: Kya? Pacchis Rupaye !!! (what ?? 25 Rs!!)
A: Isse kam nahin milta madam ( You won’t get less than this madam)

EW: Kam nahin milta…kal hi main pacchas main leke gayi (I bought it for 50 rs yesterday)

And the attendant just stared at her. I stared at her. We all stared at her. The educated woman didn’t know Hindi “ginti” or numbers in Hindi. It was weirdly funny !

Moral of the story is if you can’t talk in your matrbhasha, don’t even try to at least not in a store !

How to Fool an Auto guy For Dummies !

23 Sep

@ Lifestyle which is just 5 minutes from where I have to go to and i know autos charge a lot..hardly would be sum 15 rs..

Sana: Bhaiyya…chalte?
Autowala: Kahan jana hai?

Sana: Noor khan Bazar
Autowala: Aao betho

*I trick him into taking me to Noor khan which is a good 10 kms away.the reason I did that was because i know they charge more fer places nearby*

Sana: *fakes a phone call* arre what happened ya….injury ho gayi?? *pause*
shit!!! *long pause*
*Auto wala in the mean time is looking at my face through the rear view mirror*

Sana: acha tu ruk ghar pe..we will go to the hospital together..
bhaiyya idhar somajiguda pe chodna(;eave) hai…sorry bhaiya..

Autowala: acha thik hai


Excuse me sir, I have a stolen pullover to report

19 Sep

Its been almost a week since I got back from Canada and boy it has been really hectic after that. I have been so busy with projects and assignments and notes and friends and dinners and welcome back parties that I haven’t had time for myself. (Har Har) Ok Ok you got me. I was just bluffing. Nothing of the sort happened. No one cares that I am back. A couple of messages here and a couple of messages there asking me what all had I bought back with me for them [:|] Exactly that’s all anyone cares about.
Anyway this post isn’t about that. Its about my missing Pullover rather STOLEN-IN-FRONT-OF-EYESIGHT-PULLOVER ! No you morons !(It wasn’t literally in front of my sight when it was stolen)
I had a stop over at Abu Dhabi for 2 hours before I boarded my plane to Bombay. Mind you I was traveling alone. Killing time wasn’t easy. I spent as much time as possible in the loo sitting on the comod thinking of whether to pick up a carton of ciggis for friends who would be more than shameless to worship me if I did. But then again I don’t smoke so I chucked the whole idea and I don’t like making my friends happy. Then I thought of running up and down the escalator. All that sitting around for 14 and a half hours had killed my legs. I wanted to feel alive again.
I checked out duty free shops because deep down inside it makes me feel good to have that feeling that I could afford such lame luxuries. Shopping at duty free is a lame luxury according to me and I don’t shop so don’t come back at me. They rip you off duty and that to for free that is why its called DUTY FREE! (I owe my lame PJ cracking to Rituraj)
I roam around up and down for a while then I stand in line and wait for my turn at a free Internet access joint. Now I don’t know if Abu Dhabi is a busy airport but it sure looked busy at this corner.
It felt as if I was standing at the beginning of a race line. The only difference was that there was no one to pull the trigger and say “On your marks,ready,set,go!”
All that one could see was the distance the mind calculated subconsciously in order to get to the prey on time. A hungry tiger waiting to pounce on the eyed gazelle.
The guy at the computer gets done with his work and I move in fast but then you know situations like these embarrass me. Its a petty thing to be fighting for so I stand back and let the other hyena feast on my gazelle. I wait a few more minutes before another computer stand becomes empty.
All I had in hand was my pullover(:(),the water bottle I purchased rather someone else paid 3 dhs for me because I was paying 100 riyals which is equal to a 1000 rupees unless market value has gone up. I was giving her 100 riyals just to pay for a three dhs bottle. Ha! I am a rich B****!
So anyway water bottle, PULLOVER and my hand bag which I put on the ground between my legs(I was standing.Stop getting weird thoughts). I put them all where I could see them.
I was gayly looking at the keyboard when someone else came tapping on my shoulder asking me if I was done.
“Does it look like I am done? Bloody Orkut doesn’t work in this country. Works in a third world country like Africa. The net sucks here”
By the time I finish that sentence in my head and look back at my screen, from the corner of my eye I see a dash of blue fly by. I ignore. I get done with my mail checking and facebooking and chatting so I sign out and get ready to leave.
I keep staring at the space where I had kept my pullover last,more like first and last resting place. I look around madly. I ask the man behind me if he had seen my pullover and he says “Bulldozer” 😐 (yeah you moron and I wish you ran under one)
I ask the woman beside me. She keeps staring at her screen. No response. Dead. Still Standing.
I search for my it frantically and its no where to be seen. Now I can’t even call for it now can I. I just keep going around in circles searching for it.
Finally I walk up to an Information Desk (yes sadly to report a missing jacket and not ask for directions)
Now I really don’t know how exactly should I be pointing out to her as to what my problem really was. Anyway I say it out loud to her.
“Hi. I was standing at the internet junction checking my mails when someone stole my jacket.Can you help me?”
“JACKET!! You are here to report a jacket?” She gave me that look to ask me if I was one of those people fooling people on camera just for gags.
“where were you standing?”
“Right there” I point out to her. “Look I know its stupid but I don’t know how to get it back but its my jacket and I want it back!”
“I am sorry miss but we have no one working in that department as of yet” 😐
“Why would they take my jacket?”
“I think they liked it”


We should have Abu Dhabi police personnel in India. They solve cases in a jiffy !

The L(a)ost Chronicle from Toronto…Part Three

3 Sep

There was supposed to be no third part to my journey but I am writing it on Public Demand. Don’t blame me if its not as exciting or thrilling as the last two. Anyway here it goes..

CHAPTER THREE – I don’t feel like an Idiot anymore 😀

The region of Waterloo and Kitchener is small compared to Brampton with a population of only 126,742 (wikipedia claim) No this isn’t the same Waterloo where Bonaparte’s Italian ass was kicked. That Waterloo is way over in Belgium.
Whoever named the places on the world map sucked at Geography. There are two names for each place in the world. Canada has a London. UK has one too. There’s Waterloo in Belgium and there’s one in Canada too. Like a five year old kid would say, “Cheater Cock Canadians- CCC”. (PJ !! Blame it on the kid)
Yeah so I get onto an overcrowded bus and pay my fare. I find myself a seat near a woman who is talking way loudly than required on her phone of course.

Loud Mouth: ” Ok so is Mike getting the truck ‘coz I need to transfer all my stuff to my new apartment.”
Sore ear on the other end: ” If Mike transfers all your stuff, what does Mike get?”
Loud Mouth: ” I don’t know. I just coloured my hair black but I am really blonde. Was that a trick question?”
Sore ear on the other end: “No bitch ! Go find yourself another mover!” *hangs up*
Loud Mouth: “Shit network ! I hate this phone.”

She literally threw the phone back into her bag. No wonder people don’t want to help her move. She releases herself from the recent minute’s fury by removing her make up kit from the bag and starts jabbing it on her face. Make up is like a stress buster for us women not that I wear a lot or any make up. Serves as an ego booster. The poorest of poorest shall be transformed into Cinderellas with a little jab here and a little botox there. Calms you down somehow (this tip is strictly for women. Men restrain from carrying out any of the above suggested)
So anyway loud mouth is feeling good about herself again.She doesn’t really care if she moves into her new apartment without any furniture. She starts texting now. Hail the Lord !
I can’t take her presence anymore not because she is annoying but because she is pretty.
Tanned skin. Torn denim shorts. Dark jet black hair upto her shoulders. Long lashes. Practically hot ! Again I am a girl and I have no chance with her so I sulkily get up cursing my life and sit down next to a dorky guy. Its no fun at all.
By this time I think I had mastered that look on my face of “I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM GOING AND I AM TOO EMBARRASSED TO ASK FOR DIRECTIONS.HELP!”
The guy moved in a bit to give me space and then he asks me as to where I was headed. I say UOW. He says I am going that side too. (Of course why would you be on this bus if you weren’t)
I mean why would I care where you were going. He notices the look on my face and smiles. I smile back just to be polite.
I just want to get to Waterloo asap. I just want to stop traveling. I have had enough for a day.People keep pouring in and out of the bus every few minutes. Finally destination Uo Waterloo arrives.
Now the campus is big Huge HUMUNGOUS ! I spot Wilfred Laurier (pronounced as Lauri-eh) on the other side. That’s where I am going to be hopefully next year (whomsoever reads this line shall be subjected to cross his fingers at least once for luck.Thank you).
UOW gives you the feeling of being in an intellectual space amidst the smarter section of a civilized cultured society.
I message my friend and he asks me to stay wherever I am and that he is coming to pick me up. He knows my sense of traveling and he doesn’t want anymore of me getting lost. Now I really can’t argue with that now can I so I wait.
The first thing I tell him is that I need a cigarette. He says that they don’t get it in my size there(Roaring laughter). We grab breakfast. He has a meeting with his superior at one so he asks me to walk fast. I burn my mouth on the coffee that I have bought so I get a straw and I start sipping from it.
“Amod, have you seen anyone drinking coffee from a straw before?”
“There are all sorts of idiots in the world.” 😐 (BURNNNNNNN !!!)
He shows me the campus on our little walk to the library where he drops me off. The library is pretty amazing and this is just one Departmental library. Department of Math [:|] So I sit and I am scared to explore.
There are people sitting right left centre mid-rif to me. All intelligent brainiards ! And I realise I am at the wrong place at possibly the right time so in order to gel in I do what I am really good at- Observe and then make fun of the people around ( In pure sadistic terms)
There are Chinkies, Indians and Arabs. Those three are the only races that I saw swarming in and out of the campus and its easy to spot them. The chinkies no matter if they are Japanese,Korean, Vietnamese or plain Mongolian, they are flat faced all of them (No offense. Just an observation) Second,we are a large species. Us Indians ! Brown, wearing loose clothes,bata chappals. Arabs, I seriously have no idea how they got there.
I sign in to my messengers,check my emails,buzz everyone online to keep me company for an hour and to look smart I start blogging. I do it for a half an hour when my friend comes back.
I walk out of the library and into DC. DC aka Davis Centre. The techies need to provide codecs to almost everything. Its like they can’t understand long words. They need to shorten everything to provide substantial space in their already numerically clogged computerized brains.
I check out his workplace. Its nice ! Its not even a cubicle. Now before walking into it I didn’t really know what to expect. I thought it would be a typical nerdy rat hole with deadline stamps stuck all over,research paper piles on the desks, uneaten sandwich wrappers lying around. No nothing of the sort. 6 cubicles stuffed into one. Interesting.
I like what they have done with their little domain.
Its 4:30 and I think I should leave so I gather up my things and walk out of the building. There is a greyhound bus right there. I walk up to the bus driver and ask him if the bus is going to Toronto.He answers in the affirmative.
I get on the bus. Quite pleased over the fact that I didn’t have to walk all the way back to Charles Terminal. I feel relaxed,composed, a little tired of course but its all good. 

I can travel in a bus ! On my own !
Now if I had said that to my friends back in India they would just laugh their bloated asses off. But I did and I have an account of it.
The journey back to Brampton wasn’t as exciting as it was when I was going there but it was more like a challenge as to what limit can I push my guts off to. 95 kms I think if you take it one way 😉 🙂
It was funny. I was giving directions to others while on my way back.
I maybe bad with directions or places or whatever it is you may tag me with but I am no Columbus.
I, for one didn’t think that the Battle of Waterloo was fought here.
I wasn’t looking for landmarks to prove the same.
I is genius ! 😐