A-Glovely-RAmble

Read between the letters, and you'll know what this post is all about. I'm finally back with my usual dose of corny titles, loooooong posts and technicolour descriptions of my oh-so-enchanting life. This time, it's about a trip to Agra with my Glovelies.

So who are the Glovelies, you ask? Well, they're a not-so-secret gang of girls, that has a motto (yes, the motto rhymes, and no I will not divulge it, or else I might lose my last ditch attempt at being perceived as humanly sane.) They...ahem...we decided that it was finally time to put a memory or two down in our scrapbooks of life, and decided to go on the vacation of the millennium.

Basically, when everything can go wrong, it does. And more. That probably best describes the beginning of our trip. But after everything has gone wrong, it somehow manages to untangle itself and become one huge right. That's what the trip actually became. :-)

So this is the story of eight girls who had been planning on this trip for a long time. I still cannot fathom as to why, after all the weeks of advance planning, we decided to buy tickets a few hours before departure. What touching belief we have in the Indian Railways, really. Considering the fact that it was Valentine's Weekend, and practically everyone with something that resembles a heart wishes to visit the epitome of love (The Taj Mahal), on this day.

I began writing the entire trip in prose, but realized it would take me days to finish....so here are little snippets that conglomerate into one heck of a trip!

Our hair-raising auto-ride (jaldi chalao bhaiya...train choot jayega!), which resulted us in landing up ridiculously early. So we fooled around with those jing-bang-colour-colour weighing machines..(I'm intellectual, romantic and a perfectionist....and also Yukta Mookhey, apparently).

Bribing the TC to convert our unreserved tickets into a sleeper berth by giving him full puppy eyes which read Akeli ladki uss ghor jungle jaisi compartment mein kaise baith sakti hai?

Potate's true Jab We Met fashion of catching the train.....our high pitched squealing at spotting her make her way into our compartment. And then Ash's Jab We Could Not Meet fashion of missing the train.

The weird compartment dude, who was acting all pseudo-politician.....I climbed all the way to the top compartment to give him an * cough* accidental kick on the head with my sneaker.....sigh....I think I missed by a few millimeters.

Agra Cantt station, Farid Chacha's Ambassador that fit all of us in...and the marvelous guest house, thanks to the PsychoMommy! :-D (Although, we were not exactly on our best behaviour...I wonder if they'll welcome us back!)

Our long rambles on Sadar's MG Road...the auto ride to pick up Ash (who finally caught the next train in a not so Jab We Met fashion.). Why a simple auto ride, you ask? Well, one auto, seven girls and the poor hassled driver! :-D And since we had made such a spectacle of ourselves, we decided to spare the other auto drivers and walk back home instead! We did, however, hassle a baraat ka ghoda, some random lost tourists and just the general public. I think there have been cautionary posters put up in Agra now, which forbid us from entering the city, and others from abetting our entrance as well!

Greeting Ash in true Ekta-Kapoor Serial style, re-doing it a couple of times to capture a good video. Retiring to the beautiful rooms, watching that gawd-awful Akshay Kumar movie, even more gawd-awful songs and that funny reality show where everyone cheats on everyone and gets caught on camera.

Dinner time! The Valentine themed decoration in the Mess, and our messing around with them! Ice cream at MG Road late at night....and then gol guppas!

Sameer....sigh.....what a man. It's not very often that you come across a gaudy-flashy-white-car filled with men who increase the tempo of their music just as your gang walks past them, only to throw some confetti at you. (I was actually going to yell at them about littering the beautiful road, only to realize later that what they'd thrown was their number and the name of the brave man Sameer, who decided to represent the fountainhead of fools.) On a particularly spiteful day, we intend making good use of that number! ;-)

The late night banters....ridiculous overdramatizations of everything! And the million pictures that were taken to capture those into memory.

Waking up before the sun, so we could catch the Taj in it's dewy splendor. Reaching the Taj, waiting in the line with all the Oh-my-god-we'll-finally-see-the-Taj foreigners (By the way, did you know they are charged at least 50 times more than us for tickets? Poor things. I'd rather be Indian than ripped off. But oh well. It's all contributing to our economy anyway.)

Potate's Hot Foreign Men. (ok ok. I did ogle at them a little later, and yes, I concede they were quite dishy.)

The TAAAAAAJ MAHAL! (and the seedy background music sonorously provided by the gang from a movie with the same name.) Of course, either the Taj is just very shy, or was really scared of harmless us, because he was cowering behind the thickest blanket of fog. Hmph. So much for wanting to raise hand and pretend to hold the minar pose. We didnt give up though. We did pose at the exact spot. Spotting the Taj, however, is left to the beholder's imagination.

Oooh...the kachoris and that yummy matar ki sabji that came with it outside the Taj Mahal. And those paranthas that never stopped coming from the depths of that little kitchen in one of the small dhabas in the by lanes of Taj.

Agra Fort!! Now, this is one place I could totally live in. Seriously. It's so green, serene and clean. This is Reason #2 why I want to relive Jodha Akbar in reality. (Reason #1 being, obviously, Hritik Roshan as Akbar...duh!) It is the most mesmerizing fort I've ever seen (and believe me, I've seen quite a few.) We just couldn't get ourselves out in time. Even pictures fail to capture the feeling of wonder, although we've tried our hardest.

Honestly dude. I think I'll retire from MA and go find a time machine that will transport me back to the times of Akbar....Shah Jehan even.

Hmm...did we eat lunch? I cant seem to remember......we did eat a lot of chips, some Agra Petha and more chips. And then raced towards Fatehpur Sikri.

Fatehpur Sikri is equally breathtaking (partly also because you have to climb a hefty flight of stairs to reach the top, and partly because the guide was making us hurry...so that we don't miss our train to go back....for which we still didn't have tickets...really, people worry about us too much, I tell you.)

The ride back to the station after having visited everything......the driver seemed to be in a hurry to drop us back too....hmm....I seem to notice a pattern here.....

Finally, the station, where we found tickets, had to use the bribe technique again, found ourselves in a compartment with two cute little brats (aged 3 and 6) who decided we were trampolines, so they would occasionally launch themselves at us without warning and expect us to laugh and clap about it (which we did...the first couple hundred times at least)

Then back to Delhi....sigh...why? :-( As our bus was taking us back home, I wished we could've rewinded and paused on the weekend. It really did deserve to be frozen in time. So the Taj was fogged out, and I was the one who had insisted that we go see the Taj for the longest time. But strangely, I never felt any regret in having missed its view in sunshine. I enjoyed the fogged out Taj way more, thanks to the gloveliest gang of girls I went with! :-)

The Choice to Say No

'How easy is it to say no?' She wondered.

She had seen this coming, somewhere deep

in the clutters of her mind.

She could not pin point to what

had lead it to this juncture, but knew,

that the time had arrived.

The time to say no.

She first ignored the messages.

Thought it safer not to bother

about them at all.

It began to infiltrate her workspace soon.

That also, was something

she learnt to forget about.

But eventually, messages turned

cynically sweeter.

They became flowers.

Chocolates even.

Not something easily digested

(pun intended) by anyone.

The beholder of those

messages had questions.

Answers were sought from her.

She then decided to say no.

The questions were all

given the same answer.

No. No. No.

It could not have been clearer,

bolder or better understood

by anyone else except the beholder.

A Score and Two More

This has now become a tradition, hasn't it? I may not write other posts (which, FYI, are pending in my edited posts list, waiting to be finished and packed off to adorn this blog) but I will never deter from religiously writing my birthday posts! It's about 22 days before I turn 22 (and Sneha, I have now turned immune to your taunty aunty comments!) and I have found 22 habits that doubt my actual qualifications of being 22. nevertheless, I shall consciously resolve to work on them to make my 22nd as successful as my 21st! (Which I have to admit, has been a brilliant year for me!) Warning, HIGHLY narcissistic post coming up! Read This and This for further reference!

22 things I should keep in mind before going forth and acting crazy --

1) Hurrring pigeons: (you know, shooing them away in a filmy style) I promise that the next time I visit Connaught place, I resolve to restrain myself from hurring them pigeons out of little nooks where they nibble on seeds and sunbathe in tranquility. My devious deeds have been caught by the pigeons and they now follow me home just to bless my car with their digestive confetti immediately after I choose to hurr them away!

2) Taking shorter and Narrower U Turns: Ahem, if you were in class the day I recited this incident (with diagrams and drama) about almost ramming sidelong into a poor unsuspecting Santro just because I thought the road was my red carpet and I could turn wherever, then you would know why this figures right at the top of this list. I still need to apologize to all the unsuspecting passengers who sit in my car, little knowing that their journey may actually beat the scariest roller coaster invented by man, machine or fiction.

3) Thinking before talking: This again applies to the millions of faux pas I have committed in college just because I end up sounding like a seedy person when all my conversations seem to have a double entendre to them. That would probably explain why my theory on disposable lens became the most talked about expletive for almost a week on facebook. And honestly? I still don't get the drift! I am naive ok? And no, I did not mean what I said in a dirty way. It's not my tongue that's dirty, it's your mind.

4) Cutting down on Samosas: Okay, so they're available at an irresistibly low price of Rs.3! But really, that cannot mean that I can gorge on them until I begin to resemble one. Beginning with my twenty second year, I resolve to drastically reduce eating Sammys (sigh, we have a pet name for the delicious piece of heaven too!) and utilize my beautiful, serene campus for walking, not binging.

5) Singing Notes while Washing Clothes: Yeah, this is a rare disorder that only occurs to people who do not get a good enough platform for showcasing their nightingale notes to the world. It began at Google, where the maids at our apartment would gather to watch my performance silently every Sunday morning as I belted out number after outdated and mushy number. But that hasn't stopped me from continuing the habit. If you're in the vicinity and you hear a distorted voice that is singing out lyrics all wrong (mostly made up by my creatively insane mind -- and ALWAYS rhyming), you know I'm in my own washing machine!

6) Traveling in public transport in solitude and bragging about it to everyone: The first part of this habit is good. I have always traveled in public transport in Bangalore and never had anyone to commend me about it. But traveling alone in the Metro/Auto or Bus in Delhi makes me feel like I've won the National Championship for, well, Traveling Alone or whatever. It's crazy, but I always get this feeling of having achieved something...and I look around with a smug expression often thinking 'Hah to all you suckers who think it's boring to travel alone'.

7) Laughing at the ignorance of North Indians when it comes to South Indian Cuisine: For the last time, it's Sambaaaaar. Not Sambur. And it is often taken with Idly and Chutney. NOT samosas, for crying out loud! I know it's fun to be innovative, but really? This innovative? And chutney is just chutney. Not 'nariyal ki chutney', 'white chutney' or even worse 'pista wala chutney'. They've all been used. Believe me. Also, while I'm at it, we are Tamilians, Kannadigas and Malayalis. Not people who speak 'South Indian'. There are 4 states south of the Vindhyas. Kindly look up the political map (google it) and then come talk to me about my home town. Oh, and also, I can speak Kannada (which is a language, not a restaurant), and not Karnatak (which, if spelt correctly, is a form of classical music.) Oh well. I'll stop now.

8) Laughing at my Mother's Hindi (or any other South Indian's Hindi): It ain't an easy language to learn my friend. The river is a female, but a lake is male. A mispronounced syllable converts a food item into profanity. Really, when I used to point and laugh at my mother struggling with Hindi numbers, little did I realize that it will all come back to me as I try in vain to figure out what 'dedh' and 'dhai' is. (I think dhai is 1 and a half. Or is that dedh?)

9) Telling everyone about my book: Okay. So someday I want to write a book. But SOMEDAY. Not today as soon as I rush back from college or whatever. Hence, it makes zero sense in telling the whole world about what a fantastically popular author I intend to become (Ha ha - it almost sounds like I'm plagiarising Chetan Bhagat's thoughts here.). First, I shall seek out adventure in life. Then it shall seek me. Then we'll sit and write about it. Till then, the only book I need to go near is my textbook...where did that go again?

10) Squealing and Pointing at Aloo Chat: So it was the greatest dish invented by the Delhite. Honestly, Aloo Chat should be made our national dish. The bleak ray of warmth that emerges from a spicy and chatpata Aloo Chaat on a cold winter morning can kick away even the worst of Seasonal Depressive Disorders....speaking of which...

11) Cribbing about the Weather: It's called Extreme temperature. Summers - Very Hot. Winters - Very Cold. Spring - Very..well..Springy (One drive around Chanakyapuri and you'll be covered with blossoms of a million hues!) and Autumn - Very windy. There is no such thing as a 24 degree life (Ah, How I miss you, my perfectly weathered Bangalore!) Really. Just when I start living in this city, it has to record the highest temperature in Summer, the most rainfall and the coldest temperature in winter - ALL in one freakin year! :-( Why are you people still using plastic? Don't you see the ghastly effects of global warming happening in this city?

12) Staring into Space: I've mentioned this before, yes. But this time I really need to curb the habit. I'm twenty two. When the space is replaced by people, I end up staring at them. People will now wonder why I am staring at them so seriously and start taking wrong hints. Especially that bus driver of 724 (What? I was seeing your speedometer and imagining myself driving such a gigantic but dilapidated bus, you moron!)

13) Liking all movies: Isn't it about time I started to find my own niche in movies and prefer one genre over another? Okay, so I'm all for Armageddon type outer space action and What's Your Rashee type slapstick comedy. I just like all movies. And I'm the world's worst review machine possible. Rajeev Masand, take a bow. And all my friends out there who are waiting in line to beat me up for having recommended Pyaar Impossible (It was a nice movie, ok?), take heart. I'm trying sincerely to change that habit.

14) Diversify Literature: Ladybird Series: Check. Roald Dahl:Check Enid Blyton: Check. Chicken Soup/John Grisham/Jefferey Archer/Robert Ludlum/Arthur Hailey: Check Sweet Valley/Baby Sitter's Club/Bridget Jones/and all the other Chick-Lit that I am addicted to: Chick! Mary Higgins Clark: Check. Classics: Check Urgh. I've read every type of fiction possible. I really need to find another author to devour or I'll go mad with repetition! Stephen King, anyone? Fits the mood, doesn't it?

15) Try to anatomically stop my face from turning RED: It gives me away, and I think Rudolf will come looking for me sometime soon to substitute for him. It begins with my ears, and then my nose....and finally my cheeks. I'm brown, and if my face turns red, it ain't a pretty picture. But if a teacher asks me a question, if I'm driving, if everyone is staring at me suddenly, if I'm lying.....IT ALWAYS GIVES ME AWAY! :-( Maybe I'll grow out of it this 22nd?

16) Stop being an Oreo Cookie fanatic: OC (yes, it has a nickname too - oh well, at least it's better than calling that teenage depressive manic serial OC). So anyway, OC doughnuts, OC milkshake, OC with cream, OC with Ice Cream. OC with EVERYTHING! Give me a meal of Aloo Chat and Oreo cookies, and you've earned a fan for life! :-D Oh...right. The idea was to give up the fanaticism. Oh well. Okay, maybe just one teeny tiny cookie......

18) Flinching at Profanity: The whole world swears. And although I personally think that the people who dabble with profanity honestly don't have a good vocabulary and hence are substituting syntax with f words and the like. But I still cant stop flinching every time someone uses the words. Someone in my mind goes Ushhooo...that was a bad word! I've tried real hard not to react when people have tennis matches with verbal expletives. But dude, it just doesn't work! I feel like telling them all to go read a dictionary!

19) Seeing silly reality shows on television for the mere purpose of dissing them later: This is a really serious one. I should stop watching reality shows. Period. And switch over to Aastha Channel or somewhat if I really want some catharsis. This overt voyeuristic habit has turned me into a cynic of reality. I almost expect someone to step inside my house and tell me that they won't vote for me if I don't clean my room or something!

20) Bugging people to go to museums/art galleries/book fairs/historical monuments and 'exploring' the city: I love all of that dude! I mean, Historical Monuments are the coolest things that happened to Delhi since the Mughals...or even earlier. It is but natural to want to see them all, no? Who needs to go to a blatantly commercialized building that reeks of materialism and extravagant consumerism? (Uh, I mean a mall). I think my purpose in life now has one more propagandist agenda (My most favorite one being 'Yelling at people who waste food by reminding them of the plight of the Sub-Saharan African children.) I will now encourage people to visit the National Museum. It is one of the best museums I've seen in a long time, and I don't see why people cant spend more time there, and learn about the country while..........okay...time to stop, I guess :-)

21) Fooling Around by writing posts like this when exams are a cat's whiskers away: Yeah. But don't blame me for having a birthday in exam-ridden March! After years of school exams, bored exams and semester exams, I've discovered my favorite mode of passing time between studying for subjects. So I guess I'll just continue doing this every year. (Oh dear, I'll have to start being more creative though. I mean, it's not like my reasons will get any lesser with each year right?)

22) Actually following all of these....who am I kidding? I'd probably read through conscientiously the first couple of months, and then this post becomes archived while my habits get revived! :-D

Yay!! Now that the craziness is purged out of me - Happpy Birthday!!! :-) (To me only!)

Holiday Tips

It's been put here by popular demand. (Read:1 person following my blog as 2 people)

Christmas time, and you have no idea how to spend your holidays? Those five days that come between Christmas and New Year are bothering you silly because you have nothing to do except eat, sleep, eat and sleep? Oh, you poor poor thing. Don't fear, I'm here! (but not my sanity, it seems)

These have been painstakingly devised after being inspired by real-life incidents, lots of chick-lit, chick-flicks and basically a creatively bored mind. They have also been painstakingly compiled by the Sexy Potato (as she likes to call herself...we'll stick to Potate, if you don't mind. This is a PG-13 blog.) So thank you Potate, first for compiling all of this from your FB wall (where I would religiously post them everyday) and then e-mailing them to me (which I studiously ignored for several months) and pestering me to put them up (which I finally did...and look! I found an old languishing draft that I could edit and make it look like I put it up in December only!)

Darn. I gave away my secret.

Anyhow, this is what happens to me when I'm high on holidays:

Holidaytipoftheday #1: Go for a walk in your garden. Examine the weird looking plants and flowers. If you're lucky (or are hyper-allergic to everything like me), then a rare bug may bite you and you may become The Bugwoman. And unleash your terrific powers on all those you've always wanted to extract revenge from. Find a flop director and get him to make a movie called The Dark Nightie...where you can finally show the world your 'Peace on Earth' Nightshirt and extract the ultimate Beauty Contest Accomplishment - Global Peace. But remember, with great power, comes great responsibility. (Bah, I wish it came with great pajamas...so I could get rid of my 'Peace on Earth' shirt.)

Holidaytipoftheday #2: Overdose on bournvita. Then, when you're feeling all sugary high, walk up to that neighbour who's been singing upstairs all day (and not even nice songs, at that) and stare at him intently, as if you can X ray his tonsils from where you stand. When he gets all self conscious, you can clear your throat very importantly, and as he shakes with fright, you pointedly glare and say, 'Pliz gime vatar'....and continue to sing the rest of the song. This may not earn you the title of India's Got Talent, but once you get back to normal state after bournvita wears off, it will effectively keep you away from public interaction for the next three decades, at least. Three weeks of holidays is a blip.

(If you have not heard 'Pliz gime vatar', I suggest you contact me/potate sometime. We shall delightfully enlighten you about the 'dude' song of Youtube.)

Holidaytipoftheday #3: It's Christmas eve! Go around your neighbourhood in search of that cute Christian boy who used to come to your tuitions in 12th std. Round up little mohalla kids and pretend to be teaching them carols when he 'happens' to walk past. Get one kid to bring weird pokey looking leaf and ask you what mistletoe is. Look at the cute boy helplessly as if kid has asked you out-of-syllabus tuition question. As the boy begins to explain, you may demonstrate. (However, if you are more the ears-turning-red type, then just stand and smile like Christmas tree lighting). After which you may all troop into his house and drink cuddly hot chocolate with plum cake and stare at each other in candlelight.

(If you feel this ain't so PG-13 rated, then just drink more bournvita and dream up the whole sequence. I promise I won't tell on you.)

Holidaytipoftheday# 4: It's Christmas!! Okay, it may be one of the most magical days of the year but it is still a freakin holiday. And we're here because we find them holidays boring right? And since Christmas is all about stockings, do a recce around your house. Gather all the pairs of socks your family owns. Bring them together, either draw weird cartoons on the toes of some,... or cut off the little toe part....add ribbons, stick confetti, use shoe polish - Be creative! And when they search the high seas for you (uh, yes. Try and hide on Christmas morning as soon as they discover the creative damage you have unleashed), scatter around some cute kiddie photographs of yourself and the family. By the time they're done going through all the albums, you're bound to be welcomed with an 'Aaaw...look at the cute little fiascos you got into as a kid'.

(This is, of course, assuming you're still cute. Otherwise, it may begin a whole new argument.)

Holidaytipoftheday # 5: Find a Camera! Be a photographer! And stalk everyone in your family, pets, stray dogs and cows, crows and pigeons, those nasty little neighbourhood boys who scream and yell outside your window just when you have exams coming up. Click away and take candid pictures of everything and everyone. Make sure they are on FB and then put them all in one album named Amateur Photography (everyone you know will be impressed with your new hobby, you'll pass time, and that picture of the next-door-aunty squealing in surprise when she gets blinded by your flash wont really mind since you've made her your muse.) Remember to tag them though!

So, if you survive the holidays after following all my tips, then make sure to creatively modify them next time. However, if circumstances (after having followed these tips) make you pull a burlap sack on your head and run away to Cayman Islands, then it's what you wanted all the time, innit? ;-)

Happy Holidays!! :-)

Winter Frost

A strange shiver tickles tall trees

A butterknife can cut through the smoggy breeze

The sunrays have enrolled for holocaust

The city is taken over by the Winter Frost.

Smoke rings spiral out of quivering tea shops

Leaves shed icy tears of frozen dew drops

Fireflies hunt for warmth, their goals so lost

Cold-hearted, aint it? This Winter Frost?

Pen touches paper and the fingers freeze

The chill refuses to let go, the trees long to sneeze

Even then, warmth trickles in, at Summer's cost

Maybe there is some hope within Winter Frost.

(This is what happens when you shut me in a cold room for over three hours of psychology seminars. I guess I ought to thank the girls who presented in class for having given me time for my creative catharsis! :-D It sounds very pretentious, if you ask me, but it describes Delhi's current weather so aptly! Ah, I've finally begun to look forward to more days like this, not for writing mundane poetry, but to really enjoy this Winter Frost.)

Chennai Chronicles

I like Chennai! What can I say? Put me in a city with friends, a brilliantly stocked library, a dessert parlour and you've earned a loyal fan for life! Delhi and Bangalore became my soulmates like that as well....and finally, after much prodding and nudging, Chennai has entered the list!

Its been eight years since Chennai became my 'semi-home town', and each trip to the place consists of Fruitshop, The Beach and the library. This time was slightly different. So here's a tribute to the city, and the smart trio (that includes me too) that made history there! :D

I spent three blissful weeks lying around doing the best of nothing and being completely pampered with food and remote control. The porch swing and I became inseparable as I devoured book after book after book until I suffered from an overdose (not that it's a bad thing!) The week in Bangalore whizzed past me like a colourful comet and I had some fun reunions with old friends (including a hilarious lunch with my college gal pals...really, it's amazing how we've stayed so wacky even now!) Then came the weekend when the trio got together.

Their bus journey, I shan't describe since only Sneha can do justice to it on her blog. At least that way, SOMETHING will come on that poor blog. (Oh, off topic, but I'd like to tell you, Sneha, that your blog is rusting. You might want an intramuscular tetanus before you venture near it.) So my job only began with picking them up and bringing them home. And for some strange reason, I feel like narrating the rest point-wise. It just cuts out the fringes and makes everyone's life simpler.

1. The movies we saw. Shopaholic was only seen by me, as the two tried to sleep off their justified 'jet lag'. Bride Wars was nice ok? And totally cry-able. Sorry, but I get a little sentimental when friends give up weddings for each other. Wait till it's your wedding Reenu! The day's not far when you'll need to get your wedding hall waterproofed! :-P and He's Just Not That Into You was slightly confusing since I had not slept too much and the movie had too many characters for me to comprehend. So there went the movies, kaput.

2. The BEACH! Marina beach, not-so-early in the morning reeks of fish, but what's more fun are the characters that hang around there. There was this drunkard who warned us to stay away from the waters since the Tsunami was coming. There was a flasher who decided to sit right in front of us. There were two men who kept talking to the waves and urging them to come to them...and when they heeded, they'd run like sissies (the men, not the waves.) there was also a man who had walked right out of a board meeting and decided he'd play Baywatch for a day. Sigh. Those poor formal clothes. The waves were really high (high tide, new moon day) and the water was refreshingly clean....except for the occasional unidentifiable black objects and coconut husks. Anyhow, clearly we had enjoyed enough to bring back most of the sand! (See Sneha? Now I don't need to pack it in a friend's economics paper to get it for you! :P)

3. The BEACH part II! Elliot's Beach is the most awesomest place in this part of the world. Really! There is no other place I'd have the guts to wear identical shirts with my two wacky friends and go gallivanting on the sea shore acting completely crazy on a Sunday evening. Honestly, we gave Chennai people SO MUCH entertainment that weekend! :D That carousel (ok ok, merry-go-round) ride, the funky fluorescent wands, the loud songs we sang all around Besant Nagar..made the beach part II even better than the first one.

4. The food. When we're around, can food ever be ignored? Not only did we eat some very interesting stuff in the form of that lebanese wrap (guys, please don't ever let me try that again ok? I'm still not too sure about what went in it.), we had a one-by-three Jughead Special that warranted dirty looks from the waiters at Fruitshop. We finally ended it with that late night pizza dinner. Seriously, sometimes I think that waiter still wonders what mistake he made with our bill and why he gave us free overpriced ice creams instead of the usual scoop in a cup! :D And yes, Reenu does eat a lot of food. There, I've said it on cyberspace! :D

5. The Pictures! It was Diwali that they'd come for after all...so the pictures not only were colourful but FUN! The elevator picture that we finally perfected, our star wars themed powerpuff movie starring the wands, the beach and the beach thingamajigs, home and the convocation ceremony! :D The entire trip was chronicled in pictures that spoke more of the fun than this blog. For a change, I managed to send them on time! * Applause *

So anyway, Chennai was fun this time around, being with friends and family. Maybe enduring that 2 hour 30 minute flight in the dangerous skies is always worth it! :)

Colourful Roominations.

My room is pink. I was born into a pink room. When my grandfather was overseeing the construction of the first floor in our house, he decided that a grand-daughter would merit a pink room. A couple of days later, when I was born, the pink was commissioned.

I have very few, but fond birthday memories in that pink room for the first couple of years before we trotted off to Delhi and lived in rented homes (where thankfully no one had an insight to paint the room pink for a prospective girl to stay in!) with off-white colours. It was only when I returned to my pink room did the troubles begin.

My classmates from school would come over for project discussions and what-not, and I would continually be embarrassed at the pinkness of the room. The boy classmates would be stunned to see anything that pink, and the girls probably thanked their parents silently for not being subjected to such a torture. I tried very hard to disguise the colour though. I went through a distract-people-from-room-colour-by-drawing-attention-to-bright-curtains phase, a cover-every-inch-of-visible-room-colour-with-animal-posters phase and finally when nothing worked, I bought myself a can of blue paint (oil paint actually, something I bothered reading only after splashing it around) and began to paint the room, my cupboard and a bookshelf.

The bookshelf and the cupboard were completed in time, but when it came to painting the room, the ADHD in me lost interest and that resulted in a huge square of blue in the middle of a very pink wall. It brought out the pink of the wall, really!

I finally gave up and convinced myself that pink is a fab colour to live with, and I should really focus of enhancing it rather than camouflaging it. (That was because my mother put her foot down refusing to let me try painting it another colour after the blue fiasco.)

Today, the room has finally changed colour. The house was being repainted, and my parents thoughtfully decided I should get my wish and have this room painted a different colour. They chose a beautiful orange cheesecake type colour and really, it looks very delectable. But it's no longer pink, and I actually miss that. I miss seeing my blatant attempts to hide it, those fading scotch tape marks that held my animal posters, that blob of blue (which incidentally took the painters a FULL day to scrape off the wall!), the growing up pictures, birthday poems, Topaz house flags, the loud curtains that tried to steal the limelight and the bed covers (which were also pink!).

Of course, I no longer live in that room, so I should technically not be bothered what colour it is/was, right? But the room represents my childhood, and I have memories related to every little scratch I have made in that pink room. It's now changed colour and matured, maybe so should I.