Date Night

“Let’s go, quickly, while he is sleeping”, the husband said. And so we rushed out of the house, eager to make a most of this golden opportunity.

As parents to a five month old boy, our previously untamed lives had undergone a total metamorphosis. We used to be big on weekend outings, catching every random movie which would come out, meeting friends, long walks and going to our favourite eateries.  However, today we had to meticulously plan every tiny outing, whether a cup of coffee or a short drive. Date nights were effectively a thing of the past.

Not that we were complaining- both of us loved being parents, and we had managed quite a few outings with our baby in tow. But this new love of our life came with certain obstacles to some quality husband-wife time, which needed a lot of effort and planning to overcome.

So after ages, the stars had aligned in such a manner that the boy slept off at a time, which was conducive for a dinner date. And we seized the opportunity, as soon as it landed on our lap.

“Pizza?” the husband asked. I gave a big smile and nodded. I hadn’t eaten pizza in ages, but the reason for my smile was not that. Pizza dates with the husband were always special, because our first official date involved pizza, garlic bread and masala lemonade.

Three and a half years, and countless dates later, our order at the restaurant remained much the same. We chit chatted about the baby, but also about childhood memories, old friends and potential vacations. We laughed and giggled, made fun of each other, reminisced about our very first date, and how much life had changed. 

We had a leisurely dinner, unable to fathom our good luck that not a single call came from home. It was too good to be true. Well, almost. Just as plans for dessert were being made, the phone rang- we were summoned home, as the boy had gotten up. 

“Well it couldn’t have been perfect”, the husband said. I smiled back and said “This was as close as it could be”. And after quickly paying the bill, we rushed home. From being just husband and wife for an hour, we were back to being parents. 

In my five months of being a mother, I realize that parenthood can be hugely challenging to a marriage. It takes lots of effort to be husband and wife, to take out time and energy for each other, when your child requires you to be parents 24*7. But this short and sweet date with my favourite pizza partner, gives me hope that perhaps the husband and I will do just fine. 

https://housing.com/.

Of being a guest writer

Over the past two weeks, I have written two blog posts for two veryyy different blogs. I shall be immensely immodest and say that I was invited to do the two posts - fancy much!

CSR is an organisation I interned with three years ago, for four months, way back when I was engaged. It was a dream job, where I got paid to write and waste my time on social media- utopia! Well, except for the money ;) Anyhoo, so the boss from CSR pinged on Facebook the other day and asked me to write a post for their new initiative "Write with us"on gender based parenting. Thus "Raising a boy" was written. As soon as it went live, an acquaintance pinged me on Twitter and asked me to write for "The Earrings Project", which she had started a few months back with a friend. I had found it super interesting since and had been meaning to write for it for quite some time. And so "The Wedding Gift" happened.

The point of this post is not to advertise my writing (although, comments would be greatly appreciated!). I had a super fun time thinking and writing both these diametrically opposite pieces and it made me realize how therapeutic writing is for me. I mean yes I like the appreciation which accompanies it sometimes, but at the end of the day I love writing, by itself. I love putting my thoughts to words, I love seeing a blog post take shape. Since I turned mom, writing provides a much needed mental break from mom-hood, even if I am writing about my baby.

Here's to more guest posts, blog updates and maintaining sanity!

a 1000 weeks, a 1000 memories

So the media has effectively been going insanely crazy over DDLJ completing 1000 weeks at Maratha Mandir. The cast is being interviewed, quotable quotes from the movie being repeated like everywhere.

I remember seeing the movie for the very first time, not in a theater, but on tv. You see, those were the good old days when we were at the mercy of the neighbourhood cablewalla, who sometimes did the evil sin of showing new movies on his own secret channel. The quality of the print used to be so so so bad ('camera print' it was called those days), but there was some magic, some joy in that whole experience, which streaming a new movie online doesn't quite capture.

Anyway, so we caught glimpses of the movie (I think from the train sequence to tujhe dekha toh yeh jaana sanam- with manyyy scenes missing and heads cut). Deciding that the movie might just be worth checking out, we eventually saw the movie in the theater. And the rest as they say is history.

DDLJ was the onset of a very very long ongoing love affair between me and Bollywood. I was all of eight when the movie came out, but it left an indelible impression on me. For me, SRK is the Raj of DDLJ, always. Maybe the Rahul or Kabir Khan. Never the Suri or Om or G.one. But always the Raj. When I say I am an SRK fan (used to be would be more apt in the current scenario) I refer to DDLJ, always. I fell deeply in love with the pairing of SRK and Kajol, to the point that I thought SRK should divorce his wife and marry Kajol and got so upset when Kajol married Ajay Devgan (ya we were super awesome like that)! I even bugged my parents to take me to this Awesome Foursome show where SRK and Kajol were performing, some four hours away from Ottawa in Toronto, when I was 11, and I remember being in total awe that I was in the same physical space as them. I remember travelling to Switzerland some six years after the movie was out, and being obsessed with buying a cowbell and staring at mustard fields.

I loved many movies after that, but this one has always held a special place in my heart. Perhaps because I was so young. Perhaps because it was the first of its kind in many ways. Perhaps because of all the imagery and memories associated with it.

Looking back, DDLJ represents a simpler time, in cinema and life. It represents a pre-Internet, pre-Facebook era, where things were at face value and you didn't have the option of googling everything. It was a time when movie stars were people you guessed about and were in awe of, not people on your Twitter and Instagram accounts. It was a time when people wore outrageous clothes in movies, were fat and probably didn't go to the gym all the time.

Too much mush this post. But far away from this maddening business of 100 crore movies, unending film promotions and super perfect looking movie stars, DDLJ is perhaps one of the few films which always manages to warm my heart. And that's enough.

After all, bade bade deshon mein aisi chhoti chhoti baatein hoti rehti hain.

A month of sunshine

It's been a whole month since October 1st, that seemingly normal Wednesday morning, when I went to my doctor for a follow-up. And was told that I would be having a baby by the end of the day.

A bit of a history. I had spent the past weekend at the hospital due to a BP scare. So I was at the height of my frustration levels. In fact, on October 1st, I woke up and looked like a balloon- my high blood pressure had made my entire body swell up, to the extent that my eyes looked Chinese, and I couldn't even make a fist with my hands

Right. Coming back to October 1st. For a day which is perhaps one of the most important, defining days of my life, it's a surprise that it's perhaps the most emotion-less and blank days of my life as well. I remember feeling NOTHING through the entire rigmarole of going to my doctor, being told that a C-Sec was my best bet at the time, getting admitted, waiting for the husband to get in from office, filling forms, finally being wheeled into the OT, being subjected to an epidural (that was the scariest part of my delivery process), staring into the bright OT lights above me and suddenly hearing a baby's cry ("really? The kid is born?!")...yours truly was blank through it all.

But the point of this blog post is not my mental state on that day- although I would like to capture that some day soon. My little baby boy, aka Surya, has turned a month old. And I want to essentially capture his first month of living.

So a bit about my "Sun"
- Nothing gives him greater joy than being massaged and bathed. He would be crying before and after a bath, but is in a state of utter tranquility during a bath.
- Doesn't know how to fall asleep- so so so sad for a child whose parents could sleep for eternity if given a choice.
- Moves his hands and feet wayyyy too much. I suspect an incredibly naughty child in the making.
- Looks like an angel when he's sleeping
- Likes being held a little too much.
- Has big and super inquisitive eyes.
- Gives a toothy smile in his sleep, which has immense melting-your-heart powers.
- Looks the cutest when he cries (Sadistic mommy, check)

Motherhood is a strange phenomenon. I didn't feel motherly during my entire pregnancy...I was so incredibly preoccupied with myself. But now that S is here, things have changed. It's a joy having him next to me, to see his little being grow and develop, to notice his tiny little actions and quirks. The entire month has been exhausting and sleep-deprived, but the tiny human is just so pretty awesome, that it seems like a decent payoff ;) I know, biggest cliche in the world right?

(I is back on the blog...I missed writing. And despite the super tiring and exhausting routine that I have now, I hope to be regular from now on. Soooooo much to write about!)

The time when I was a month late in saying "Happy New Year"

So I haven't blogged in a million years. But then I read this, by traveller, and decided that it's never really too late to blog. I wanted to blog about the wedding, and actually have a half completed post in the dashboard, but everytime I tried to complete it, Blogger did something funny to it. And now I just don't feel like completing it. The wedding was a.m.a.z.i.n.g, and a set of awesome and happy memories which I recall (and would continue to do so) every time I feel a tad low. Or every time I just feel like it. And some day, I want to write every single thing about it, just so I have it for posterity.

But this post isn't all about the wedding. This post is about 2012, as a whole. Although, to really put it bluntly, 2012 was ALL about the wedding. At least till October. And then it was about getting over the wedding, and getting into the marriage.

2012 began with the preparation of the engagement. The planning, the shopping, the hush hush invitations. The deciding of the wedding date. The arrival of people from far and near. And finally, the event itself. Which was just coolness. I mean where else amongst the community of Tam Brahms would you have a groom-to-be dance with his besties to Desi Boys and the bride-to-be rushing to hug the boys after the performance (sacrilege I am sure!). Mine was the funnest engagement I have ever attended (and I have attended quite a few, to be fair). It was Tam Brahm and Punjabi, loud and noisy and joy and happiness and warmth and love. And it was exactly a year ago..happy engagement anniversary to moi :D

Then came February. I joined CSR, went to Bombay, came back sick, and remained sick through my 25th- the worst 25th birthday in the history of 25th birthdays. March was defined by Holi, the first time I played (or rather, was forced to play), by the fiance and his besties. I am just not a Holi person, and I suspect that the Holi of 2012 is going to be the beginning of a life term effort on the part of the husband to make sure I become one (fat chance that).

In April, the father moved to Hambantota. I had my M.Phil viva (super duper awesome that was). Till the end of May, we were going at snail's pace with the wedding planning, very much in the "abhi toh bahut time hai!" phase. June was when things picked up speed- I quit CSR (sob sob) and went to Chennai for wedding shopping (super duper crazy).

July and August were all about shopping, visits to tailors, and basically a million lists. The father visited in August (after hoisting the Indian flag in Lanka land- proudest moment e.v.e.r), and card distribution/posting/inviting began in September. And then came October. How it flew! One of my favourite memories of the pre-wedding days is going for an impromptu movie outing with the parents (English Vinglish was utter rubbish, but it's the sentiment which counts right?)

And then began the wedding, a week long celebration of the greatest event ever.The cocktail was super fun- I wore a lehenga after practically a decade, and a bun for the first time ever, and looked and felt like a completely different person. The day after the cocktail, was when the greatest disaster turned greatest miracle of all time happened, amidst the family musical session. To cut a long story short, the childhood friend from Canada was stranded at Mumbai airport with her boyfriend, and the parents and uncle pulled every string known to mankind to make sure she gets to Delhi, and the wedding. While she was on her way to Delhi, the bride to be (moi) declared to all and sundry that she wants to go to the airport, and since she was the bride, she had to be obliged (coz you know, you don't piss a bride to be off). But then, since she was the bride, a four member delegation (comprising the father, the uncle, and two cousins) accompanied her in two cars (yes I come from a madcap paranoid family) to the airport. And reunion with the childhood friend happened- 13 years later. Listed in life's favourite moments? Check.

And then the wedding happened. I don't know what all to write about- the leaving home, the grand welcome given for the bride, the chit chatting with the BFFs, the irritating beautician (who did a great job btw), the husband's incessant talking in the middle of all the rituals, the sister's beautiful surprise dance, the family's phenomenal group performance, the chariot, the besties removing makeup and hovering around me, the early morning gossip with the twin, the BBMing with the husband, the family oohing and aahing (as always) over how pretty I looked, the girls chit chatting away to glory, the jaimala (where I was actually lifted!), the kanyadaan (where the mother and sister started the never ending copious tears), the moment when the mangalsutra was tied (goosebump inducing till date), the pheras, the grihapravesh, entering my room after everything was over and the girls pulling and pushing to remove all the paraphernalia, the chit chatting with the husband and his besties hours before the reception, the FINAL visit to the parlour, the non stop standing and smiling at the reception, the irritating photographers, the teary vidaai....

The list is endless. But the wedding ended. And the marriage began. The honeymoon(s) happened- in Goa and Kashmir (and ended with Vaishno Devi- super yay!). In November, the marriage was registered and I changed my name. Diwali happened, and I moved to Bombay. I set up a house, learnt how to cook. The mother came to visit for a week, the husband had his first birthday after the wedding. I am still getting used to being (and feeling) married...but really, it doesn't truly feel any different...I don't feel different! I still feel silly and stupid and filmy and...me. Except I live in a different city, with a boy, and I cook (more astounding and unbelievable than the living with the boy part). 

Coming back to 2012- it was a whirlwind year, ending as quickly as it began. A year where I got to meet all of my most favourite, most important people- people who made me, me. 2012 would always be the most unforgettable, the most crazy, the most life changing year. A year which I would always hold extremely close to my heart and soul. A year which gave me a new name, multiple new relationships, many responsibilities, and a lot of happy happy intangible things.

It's ok 2013, you have a lot to live upto. You can never be 2012, but let's hope and pray that you are as happy and full of good memories as 2012 was.

Bombay times!

I first visited Bombay at the age of 16, for a cousin's wedding, way back in 2003. Up until then, I was somewhat fascinated by the city, owing to my love affair with Bollywood (Yes I was weird back then- still am actually- but I grew up abroad, gimme some leeway!). I had also heard that Bombay was a lot like New York City, and I l.o.v.e NYC, like l.o.v.e. So in a sense, I was always prepared to love the city. And it didn't disappoint me. We did very touristy things back then, did the usual darshan of Siddhi Vinayak and Mahalakshmi, went to the beaches, had vada pao, did the open bus ride around Gateway in the night (lovely btw), saw the Queen's necklace, went by the local train even.

Last week, I visited Bombay for the third time (my second trip was a brief transit visit) I had been planning this trip for a long time, as a break from the insanity which my life had come to represent for the past so many months. For a long time, it was just a hypothetical situation, existing only in my head. But as all the madness in my life (weddings, thesis, exams) started to diminish, I knew I deserved and needed a break. And Bombay was perfect. Plus I got to see two of my closest friends in the world, who I usually don't get to see very often. So after much deliberation, much planning, many doubts ("what if this happens while I'm gone?") and a not-very-happy set of parents later, my tickets to Mumbai were booked.

I didn't go to Bombay with any expectations, all I wanted was a break from Delhi, from the usual monotony of life. But whatever little expectations I might have had, they were surpassed- and HOW. In every which way. Like the Bandra-Worli sea link. I fell so deeply in love with the sea link that I insisted on going on it regardless of whether it was required or not, which led to some pretty pricey cab rides- but so totally worth it. The fact that it was raining like all-the-time while I was there, resulted in the sea being a tad rough, and thus an absolute beauty to see from the sea link.

Oh-so-gorgeous :)

I stayed at Carter Road, which I was told, and later saw, was one of the posh-est areas in all of Bombay. My dear friend P, has a beautiful cosy flat there, and it was a privilege to stay there with her for four whole days (she's written a lovely blog post about her house, which can be read here) The post doesn't do justice to the loveliness of the house, home rather, but she has done a better job than I ever could. The bestest thing about P's house was that the Carter Road promenade, a sort of a walking track along the sea-side (seriously, how awesome is that?) is a stone's throw away. My first morning, we went for a walk, and came back all drenched- fantasy experience for me, since the only thing I had been getting drenched in in recent times was sweat. During my stay, I was a regular at the place, and spent hours just walking, looking at the sea.

Imagine seeing that every morning *sigh*

And then there was my most favourite part of Bombay, Marine Drive. Oh, how I could kill for an hour at Marine Drive, every time that I want some 'me-time'. The first time I went to Marine Drive was during a very heavy downpour, and P made me get out of the cab with a measly umbrella and made me stand there looking at the sea, so I could 'enjoy' it. I was drenched by the end of it, but how totally I had fallen for the place. So much so, that I went back to Marine Drive on my remaining two days, just to sit there, looking at the vast expanse of the sea. The experience of just staring at the sea, of the waves crashing and hitting you with droplets of water was something which I can probably never ever put in words. It was magic- truly magic.

Favouritest e.v.e.r

Bombay had one other thing which I absolutely loved, especially because I had never ever experienced it in my life- safety. I have spent 9 years in Delhi, and a majority of these years have been spent travelling about the city on my own, at all kinds of hours, in all modes of transportation. And I have never ever felt as safe in my own city in all these years, as I did during my 4 day stay in Bombay. I went around the city on my own in autos, and taxis, without a care, without a worry. It was so strange, and so awesome. I wish I lived in a city like that, I wish Delhi was half as safe as Bombay felt.

Then there were the people. P and I have been friends for 9 years. She has known me since I was 15, and has seen me through many successes, and many disappointments, and life in general. Yet, this was the first time that we were spending so much time together, since school. And it was wonderful to be able to spend that kind of time, and space with one of your closest friends. She was a fabulous host, planning my days perfectly, taking me to all her favourite places, and making sure that I cover everything there was to cover. She motivated me to get out of the house and explore the city on my own, all the while calling or BBMing every few minutes to check on me. She balanced my trip with her super-hectic office hours, and never once let the smile leave her face, except for when she made horrid faces while I was thanking her. So one last time P, thank you- you made the trip a HUGE success, and you are right, I do have a home in Bombay :)
Then there was A, who I refer to as "the sister". She's someone with whom my closeness can't really be defined, and with whom my relationship is one of the most solid things in life. She got married recently, and I wasn't there :( but luckily, I got to meet and spend some wonderful time with her- talking, listening to her words of wisdom, catching up on life, gossiping, bitching about the people we know and don't know. She came early in the morning on the day I was leaving to say good bye- and she's NOT a morning person. I even got to meet her absolutely wonderful better half, one of the few people in this whole wide world who I liked instantly (the fact that he's Tam-Brahm had nothing to do with this btw), and it was so heartwarming to see a couple who are so real, so honest and so wonderful.

The trip was one which was away from my comfort zone in many ways. It was my first ever trip alone, without family, without an itinerary, where I was in charge, I decided what I wanted to do, what I wanted to eat, where I wanted to go, or not go, or go again and again. I met people who are so unlike me, or anyone who I usually hang out with, who come from very different worlds. Maybe that's why the trip was so fabulous, and so different.

While having breakfast on my second morning with the sister and her husband, when I casually mentioned that I quite like Bombay, the sister immediately snapped back and said "Don't stay at Carter and tell me that you like this city. Go by the local train, live the Bombay life, and then tell me you like the city". It's true what she said. In my four days, I was just a tourist. And from the little I saw of life in Bombay, it's a goddamn struggle, in every which way. But despite all this, despite the fact that perhaps living in Bombay is very different, I had the time of my life.

Bombay is not the city of my birth, or the city I stay in. It is not a place where my memories are, or where my life's biggest events have happened. I don't have family there, nor any childhood experiences. I didn't study or work there. In a sense, I have no emotional connect with the city. Yet, there's something about the city which has always intrigued me. And having spent four days in the city, and a considerable amount of time exploring it on my own, my intrigue hasnt diminished. Its a city which I loved and disliked in parts, a city which fascinated me in the things I liked, and the ones I didn't.

It's difficult to verbalize what Bombay represents to me, as of this moment. But for now, lets just say that the Bombay trip of July/August 2011 was out-of-this-world awesome. In every which way :)

From March 2003 to April 2nd, 2011

***Disclaimer- this is veryyyyy long***

March 2003- 11th grade exams had just gotten over. It was the first World Cup I was seeing in full consciousness (vague memories of the 96' India-Pakistan match were somewhere in the back of the mind) India was to play Pakistan in the group stages. I was very excited and made everyone dress in blue for the occasion, and dressed myself in an orange kurta, white salwar, green chunni and bangles to match. The Pakistani innings was a blur of runs. I remember a feeling of gloom settle in during the break before the Indians were to bat. I remember Sehwag practically killing the famed Pak bowlers, and then getting out. I remember Sachin hitting Shoaib Akhtar for boundary after boundary, and the image of Wasim Akram clapping his hands, inspite of himself, at the beauty of Tendulkar's batting. I remember how happy the Pakis were when Sachin got out. And I remember how happy India was when we finally beat them. What.a.match.
The quarters and the semis are a big blur now...but that World Cup final will forever haunt me. I remember all of us gathered at my aunt's place, the boys in sahara india t-shirts, and me in my tricolour outfit. That first over when Zaheer Khan handed over 18 runs to the Aussies- heart breaking. I don't think I saw that match in its entirety, but it was a very upsetting experience. And I hoped some day, some World Cup final would be different.

2007- I honestly don't remember watching a single match of that World Cup. Maybe it was the time difference, maybe because it happened at a time when I was too caught up in my own life/studies to bother about the men in blue. Looking back, I am glad. 2003 was tough enough, but the baggage of 2 world cups would have been difficult to carry.
But I remember the 2007 T20 victory, and how awesome it was. And how much fun it was to win a World Cup...the format notwithstanding.

2011- It had been 8 years since 2003. I wasn't 16 anymore, thus wasnt as "carry my heart on my sleeve" with respect to cricket. The fun of cricket had somehow faded, what with some match or series or tour happening ALL the time. I saw the group matches off and on, and got irritated by how difficult every win seemed to be. "Does this look like a team which could win the Cup?", the mother constantly asked. No, was the reply from every person. I saw South Africa beat India in the group stages, and wonder when our bowling would finally win us matches.
It was only when India was due to play Australia, that I started paying close attention. But I didn't watch the match in entirety. It was only the 2nd half of the Indian innings which I saw ball-by-ball. The brother refused to let me get up from my seat at the back of the room, and it was only when we needed 4 runs to win, that I came near the television screen, and shouted when we finally won. We had beaten the Aussies, and we were going to face our archrivals in the semis.
I missed the first innings of the semis too. I was tempted to sit at home, but partly out of superstition (since I missed the first innings of the India-Australia match) I went out. I wanted India to beat Pakistan, for tradition's sake, if not for the Cup. And beat it did. A fantastic match by every account, it justified every bit of the hype it had generated for the past week. Our bowlers did an awesome job (imagine no extra till the 37th over!) and good ole' misbah got out when trying to hit a six, a la T20 final 07. Sheer awesomeness. Pakistan was defeated. We had attained nirvana- we could lose the cup and still be a happy lot of people.

The run up to the finals was insane. The media hype was unprecedented. Records were quoted every second, and the importance of this match was stressed upon- how a host country had never won the Cup at home, how it was Tendulkar's home ground and how wonderful it would be to see him make that 100th ton. How we hadn't won a cup in 28 years. Madness. I wanted to run out of the house for the first innings, out of superstition. What if I saw the whole match and India lost? Did I want to take that chance? But at the end moment, I couldn't bring myself to miss the first innings. This was the finals- it deserved my full and complete attention! By coincidence, I was wearing a green tee and blue jeans...and was tempted to throw an orange chunni over it- but I stopped myself when memories of another world cup final when I had dressed to the occasion came rushing back. "Don't do so much drama...be nonchalant- that's how we'll win" the mother said. Fair enough, I thought.
The Sri Lankan innings started off pretty well. Wickets weren't falling as often as we would have liked, but the runs were less. Awesome awesome fielding and bowling (Sree's stupidity notwithstanding) It was only in the last five overs that heartbreak happened. And then it was over. India had to make 275 to win. 5.5 per over.
And then India came to bat. And Sehwag got out in the 2nd ball. Tragic. And then Tendulkar got out at 18. Wankhede, and all of India fell silent. The two star batsmen gone. Was the Cup gone as well? "Sri Lanka has the cup", said the father. My hopes fell and my heart sunk. It was excruciating to see each ball after that. And when Kohli got out, hopes which had started to rise a tad bit, fell deep into an abyss once more. When Dhoni walked in, the father said "Why is he here?" He hadnt made more than 34 runs in the entire series- would this match be different? Ball after ball was bowled, runs were made, close calls occurred. It was T.E.N.S.E.
The who's who of India was watching- the richest, the most powerful, the most glamourous. But it was an event which made every single human being watching an equal. It didn't matter whether you were sitting in the VIP box, or the normal stands, or watching it in your home, or listening to the radio. Ranbir Kapoor wore the same Sahara India t-shirt which your average Mumbaikar was wearing. Nita Ambani had her head in her hands, Aamir Khan refused to let the frown leave his face. Rajnikanth looked solemn. These were people who had everything, the world at their feet, the power over their own destiny and the money to buy whatever they wanted- but that day, they were at the mercy of the men-in-blue.
Slowly slowly the runs were getting made. But the cup seemed very distant. At one point the mother (who was relegated to the back of the room, since it was 'lucky') said "Everyone said Pakistan should be beaten. They said the final doesn't matter." But it did! It so did!
The brother remained expressionless through the match, the father kept trying to sleep but couldn't catch a single wink. I tried to ease the moment with my star gazing "Look Shashi Tharoor! Look Rahul Gandhi!" But I could just as well have been talking to the walls. It was only when we needed 87 to win from 88 balls, did the brother say his first words in god knows how long.
When Gambhir went out for 97 (heartbreaking), and Dhoni made his 50- a nation felt their pain and joy, but was still waiting to see the result. Will we celebrate at the end of the night or go to sleep in a state of sadness?
As the gap between the runs and balls decreased, increased, decreased and increased, over after over, emotions were on a roller coaster. We were afraid to hope, afraid to jinx the good luck. It was only when 6 were needed from 11 balls, that the sound of a cracker being burst in the vicinity was heard. And when Dhoni hit that six, the brother started shouting, and I crossed my fingers, hoping against hope that it wasn't a catch...it was only when the mother finally got up from her seat and hugged us, did I realize what had happened- WE HAD WON THE WORLD CUP!!! The fireworks started in abundance, the tv screen was a haze of visuals- yuvi and bhajji had tears in their eyes, sachin had the biggest smile on his face...and dhoni, oh dhoni, had a strange look of peace on his stoic face.
I can watch those visuals again and again, for the rest of my life- dhoni's eyes focused on the ball as he hit the six, not an inkling of a smile on his face and that huge grin when yuvraj hugged him, tendulkar being carried around the field- tricolour wrapped around his shoulders, kohli saying "he's carried the burden of the country for 21 years, it was time for us to carry him", zaheer khan saying "we did it for this special man standing here", the boys hugging each other over and over again, gary kirsten standing up the moment dhoni hit the six- hands up in the air, that pure unadulterated joy on each face in Wankhede...and on the faces of each individual in the world who rooted for the men in blue.
I have no words to explain what it feels like. As Tendulkar said "This cup doesn't belong to the 15 of us. It belongs to the whole nation" So so true. There is a certain pride on every face on the roads, a certain feeling of accomplishment. It was a collective victory for all of us, the rarest of rare occasion when practically every Indian was on the same side. Watching the highlights gives me goosebumps, seeing the photo of Tendulkar holding the cup- gateway of India in the background chokes my throat. I am not a die-hard cricket fan, but I am an Indian- and this one was for every Indian.

I am so glad the people born post 1983 have their own set of world cup memories now. I wrote this looooong post, because I never ever want to forget this World Cup. I want to hang on to every memory, because it all adds up to the happiness that I felt when Dhoni hit that six. I feel proud of the fact that years done the line, I will tell people about this match and say "Arrey, I saw the whole match when India won the Cup in 2011- it was brilliant!" This one, is my World Cup.

Repeat of "AND INDIA WINS!!!"

So I am thrilled that we won against the Aussies. There's something about a World Cup which just cannot be explained, understood or replicated. I LOVE it. And I genuinely wanted to write something about the win, about how I hope we beat Pakistan on Wednesday (pleaseeeeeeee God!), about cricket and Indians in general, maybe even my favourite cricket memories of all time. But I somehow lack the skill, at this point of time. So let me post an old piece, which I wrote circa 2007, when India beat Pakistan in the T20 World Cup finals. It's a match I can never ever forget, for the sheer enjoyment and warm fuzzy feelings that it generated. I hope I feel the same on Wednesday- I hope the heavens above are listening to this plea :)
(This piece might come across as the work of a hyperactive, high-on-drugs/alcohol type of person, but you HAVE to understand- I was very excited. Like VERY)

******
WHAT a match!!! rocking, brillant, spell binding, nerve wracking, nail biting- i just run out of adjectives...i dont remember the last time, i screamed and shouted and literally lived a match..the combination was absolutely lethal; hostel common room, around 30-40 mad crazy paranoid girls, india-pakistan cricket match, world cup final...there was no way this match could have been watched with sophistication. So gaalis flew casually and as each ball was bowled, there were screams and shouts. During the indian innings, each ball was followed by a "HIT IT!!! FOUR...SIX...maaaaarrrrrrooooooooooooooo", and during the pakistani innings, each ball was followed by a "PAKDOOOOOOOO....WICKEEETTTTT....DOT BALL!!"....(of course there were loads of other things, which absolutely cannot be mentioned here)

some of my favourite moments:

1) One of the girls came in halfway through the indian innings and india was really struggling at that point. So everyone forced her to go and change into her pink nightgown, which she had worn during the india-australia match and which proved 'lucky'. So after MUCH coercion, she did go and change...and the pink nightgown proved to be lucky once more! so needless to say, its going to be a permanent fixture during cricket matches now!

2) the run out; literally it came out of nowhere...and it was absolutely amazing!!! (Who was this? I have nooo idea now!)

3) shahid afridi's wicket; OH MY GOD! from the very beginning of the pakistani innings, everyone was damn scared and everyone kept on chanting "shahid afridi duck out...shahid afridi duck out" and the first ball was a wide. so joginder sharma was screamed and shouted and sweared at. and THEN came the magical 'going to be a six' shot which turned out to be a catch and THAT was a time, when half the girls jumped from their seats and just JUMPED around!!! (including yours truly)

4) bhajji's charitable sixes: SUICIDE!!! sheer suicide!!! god that man was screamed at and murdered a million times in those three balls and that was the time when everyone said "gone...gone gone gone" this followed by sreesanth's 2 sixes...depression took over the common room

5) mizbah's wicket: one of the girls hated mizbah from the time he came up to bat...every time he would bat she would say "out ho jaaa...ho jaaa naaaaa"...and everytime a pakistani wicket wud fall, she wud say "mizbah hai na? mizbah out ho gaya?" and would be utterly disappointed when told otherwise...and all of us were absolutely convinced that he wud NOT get out till the end...and when he hit that weirdest shot (it was absolutely so twisted), everyone's eyes were just fixed on the ball and everyone chanted "pakad le...pakad le" and THEN that glorious moment when sreesanth caught it- the common room positively erupted and hell broke lose! 40 girls running around, dancing, jumping around, hugging whoever they cud see...aaahhhhh! (I remember this- one of life's favourite moments)
it reminded me of the part in hp3 when gryffindor wins the quidditch cup and harry thinks "i wish there were dementors here right now, i could have conjured up the best patronus"

of course it was only after the match and the presentation ceremony that all the girls realized that dinner time was long gone and when we reached the mess it was closed...so we went to the guard to get the key and after much coercion, he gave it and the girls entered the mess in a line singing this random song which was apparently being played on the radio dhoni ke lambe lambe baal, dhoni ki sexy sexy chaal...dhoni dham dhama dham...ho dhoni dham dhama dham...you get the picture...

so my throat is completely gone, i was utterly exhausted from all the screaming, shouting and jumping around...but it was just sooooooooo totally worth it!!!

Of the two movies I have loved

For someone who is a self-confessed movie buff, I have been really terrible at seeing movies for the past so many months. The last movies i saw were inception (awesome!) and i hate luv storys (ummm...extremely blah, but i guess it was ok). Which is just sad if you think about it.

So breaking this self imposed strike-on-movies, i saw two movies within the last ten days. Both, I had wanted to see desperately since i had heard about them. Both, I had heard were FAB. and both i was extremely anxious about disliking, since i had such immense expectations.

You know what? I absolutely LOVED both of them- they have practically nothing in common except the fact that they are both movies! but one thing, which i really enjoyed about both, is that they were so relatable- in very different ways of course.

So first up: THE SOCIAL NETWORK- its about facebook- and being the fb junkie that i am, i think I am morally obliged to love it :) The whole process of how he came up with the concept, and the way the entire journey was chronicled- sheer awesomeness! To think, the movie is about the making of a website- and how interesting was it! The characterizations were so brilliant, and as my cousin said "you actually feel bad for the so called bad guys". So many scenes were just sooo cool- how zuckerberg comes up with the relationship status thing, how his friend's girlfriend fights with him over the status- "do you really expect me to believe that the cofounder of facebook doesnt know how to change his relationship status?" hahahahaha! one of my favourite scenes was the one where zuckerberg is 'interviewing' candidates- i don't know how faithful that was to reality, but such a cool scene! It was an absolutely riveting movie, and one which touches you, amazes you...and perhaps makes you love that thing called facebook so much more :)

Now comes the movie, the mere mention of which brings a huge grin on my face: BAND BAAJA BAARAT- i hereby pronounce it as my favouritest movie since Jab We Met (yes it's THAT good!) it is the very reason which people watch movies- it makes you laugh, touches your heart, makes you identify with the characters...and has you rooting for all that the movie is about. But above all, its very honest. It's a word i have perhaps never used for any movie till date, but thats what it is. I loved the way Delhi was captured in the city- I think it's the best portrayal of the city EVER. BBB doesn't show the Delhi of Khan market, Select city walk, CCDs, Baristas, five star hotels or page 3 parties or horse races (as Aisha did...ughhhh!) No, BBB doesn't show the "chic" part of Delhi (well, not much anyway!) It shows the Delhi of Janakpuri, of the red brick buildings of DU colleges, of U-specials, of weddings which have the same punjabi songs (irrespective of the community to which the people actually belong), of jhintak-ness, of bread pakoras and chai, of people who use words like "bhukkad", of boys who cant speak english to save their lives and ladaku girls, who are ready to take over the world. The sheer Delhi-ness of the movie is so endearing, so relatable, that its hard not to fall in love with every bit of BBB. Ranveer Singh was such a star...stole the show completely- its impossible to believe that this guy is not from saharanpur, or that he doesnt talk in broken english in real life. Anushka was incredibly natural, and looked so pretty, despite the glam quotient being so low. In fact, every single character is so well etched, so finely portrayed- it makes you feel that perhaps, you have met them somewhere. I saw the movie twice in a span of 3 days, and it was soooo much fun the second time around...i suspect its all im going to be seeing for a while ;)

So despite this fantabulous movie watching experiences, I am going to steer clear of movies for a while. After all, anything I might see for a while now, has to compete with the brilliance of Social Network and BBB- and that is a tough act to follow ;)

The last one of the year

I have been meaning to do a year end post for a while, and was putting it off till the last day (i.e. today the 31st) just in case...you know, if something happened at the last minute which would completely change the way I see the whole of this past year. Nothing of that sort happened...thank god :) It's extremely uncool that i was supremely busy the entire day and thus cant do total justice to this post. But i shall try my best.

2010- WOW! it has been, i think, one of the BESTEST years of my life in totality. Not only did supremely cool and awesome things happen- coming 2nd in JNU twice, the NET-JRF, driving (I drive absolutely kickass now btw...the post on driving came a bit too soon!), the awesome love story (which I admit I am partial to because I knew all the possible details!)- but it was also a year, where nothing horrible happened. I think the combination of the two just makes this the best year ever.

It was a year of many many family reunions, of strengthening old friendships and forming some new ones. It was a year of many successes and of feeling pride in my own existence. It was a year of travel, of discovering and rediscovering some places. It was a year of much joy and of a million memories. It has been a year which I will always look back at fondly, and feel proud of.

For the first time ever, I don't want a year to end. It feels like everything of the past year will be wiped clean, and I am extremely nervous about what kind of a year 2011 will be. It promises to be an eventful year- people very close to me are getting married, career-related decisions which could prove to be instrumental in shaping who 'I' become eventually, and I am sure many more things will crop up. I hope 2011 carries with it, some of the happiness, and some of the goodness from this year...and I sincerely hope and pray that it betters 2010 in every which way.

As the twin once said "May astrology, numerology and psychology work in our favour this year!" Happy new year everyone!

a post dedicated to me!

thanks nima das...the post brightened up my day and made me realize that i have some awesome bonds with some super awesome people in my life :)

http://pranimadas.blogspot.com/2009/11/books-and-people.html

an ode to SC- my life, and home, for the past two years

sometime in may 2007

mom- "i have a feeling you'll get through south campus"
me- "huh??? WHY?"
mom- "i just do."
me- "why cant you have a feeling that ill get through north?"
mom- "its just a feeling."

july 2007: I joined south campus for my M.A. in applied psychology, after not having made it anywhere else, after having waited for 2 hellish weeks. two years later, im all set to leave it.

what will i take with me when i leave this place? many many many memories. memories of random classes with one-of-a-kind professors. personality classes where Prof J would go off on a tangent most of the time, and forget what he was teaching. social classes, where SSV would go on and on and on and on about beliefs and positive psychology and laugh like...well, SSV! you cannot describe her laughter. classes with cherry blossom (that was the name bhavishya had given him in first year!) which absolutely made no sense and which would result in a million arguements. classes with gcg, mm, sen sir, arvind sir....they all had their quirky memories. ill take back memories of the north-south drama of last year, of a million letters written, and of the various meetings. ill take back memories of freshers and farewells, of preparing dances at the last moment, of organizing the food and the funds and the decorations. of bhavishya's jokes and animated way of narrating things. of swati's hyper behaviour. of sally's laughter and singing. creyzee's...creyzeeness(!). of other classmates' distinctive behaviour. of awesome seniors, and distant juniors. of sinead's rebt sessions and ssv's awe after that. ill take back memories of birthdays, and random gossip sessions.

south campus wasnt just my college, or the place where i studied. i lived here for two years...geetanjali hostel was 'home'. convincing auto-wallas to go drop us inside the campus used to be such a task- no one wanted to come inside! the random songs we made every single day. the creating 'gossip' out of non-issues, just for entertainment purposes. i could write reams on the hostel. every single day has been eventful- some funny or tragic incident, some idiotic act done or brilliant words spoken. as i leave, many things will be with me forever. like hostel nights. freshers, farewells, lohri parties, christmas parties. special dinners and the lines in the mess, the shortage of chairs on those days. the warden and the provost's funny-ness. the issues in the mess. robert bhaiyya. didu bhaiyya- the insanest guard EVER. aashima di's lectures and the way she narrates stories of the years gone by. the looks of all those people who used to stare at our eccentricity. making mahima read freud and getting sadistic pleasure out of her dumbstruck and horrified expressions. fms cultural evening- unforgettable! UDSC's diwali meet- unforgettable X a million! the canteen food. the photocopy shop. satya- its food, the mother diary shop, the good uncle ji's shop, the cute aunty's shop, the sadu uncle's shop, R's images and the strange uncle there. funny juniors, and highly entertaining seniors. juni. coming to hostel after a long break and being hugged by friends. the four of us- and the antics we were constantly up to. our fights and our discussions, every strange thing (and there were a LOT of those) that happened with/to/because of us- being just us.
my first night in hostel, i had gotten up at 1 in the night and saw sd and isha drag a table out of their room, coz they feared a spider inside it. the seriousness with which isha said it that night, and the way sd looked (her tiny hair oiled and braided) is an image ill never forget.

south campus. the place where i found my joy and my peace of mind again. the place i called home for two years. where i laughed and cried. where i gossiped and bitched. the place which saw many outbursts, of joy and of sadness. the dept which we all loved to hate and hated to love. im not sad to be leaving it- it was a greatttt two years, and now its time to move on. but south campus was... just the besht!

MRIDANG 09

what. an. experience.

it had everything: fun, tension, conflicts, fashion, arguments, difference of opinions, egos, laughter fits, financial crunches, messy hands, frantic phone calls, gifts, chocolates, flowers, colours...everything.

in one sentence, i would say that it was one of the BEST times of my life. not just the hostel night itself, but the whole run up to it: the rehearsals, the shopping for prizes, breaking our heads over budgeting all the prizes, the auto rides, the random jokes which only a select few would understand and find funny, the goof ups, the confusions.

There was the shopping in a myriad of places; ARCHIES (whether its the priyas one or the one in satya niketan, both feel like home now), NESTLE (nothing short of a trip to chocolate heaven- where/when else in my life would i have been given 4000 bucks and told to shop for chocolates?! even if they werent for me!), the local phool wala (i have never argued over gende ke phool and rose petals in my life!). i did rangoli, picked up bricks, helped with the backdrop, ran around all over the place, watched the same dances and heard the same songs over and over again.

I was honoured multiple times (!)- i signed certificates, lit the lamp, gave out presents to chief guests...something which i had never ever done in my life. and if i ever do it again, it sure cant be as much as fun as it has been now.

last year, i won a prize for being the best dancer. it was a pleasant surprise, coz i hadnt danced with the intention of winning anything. this year, there were no such surprises, it was all about backstage work, the work that no one really sees. but there was a strange kind of fulfillment this year, this hostel night, was MY hostel night. mridang 08 was fun for the dances, the songs and the people...mridang 09 was fun for the sense of ownership i had over it. from start to finish, i was there throughout.

as creyzeee would say, "it was the besht!"

(one of the reasons why hostel nite was special- THIS is the collage which me and two of my dearies made and won FIRST prize, out of 13 teams...many of these teams actively dislike us for our nonsensical behaviour. and this victory, was a :P for them!)

These are a few of my favourite things...revisited

so i wanted to update my blog. but couldnt think of what to write about. dissertation has been whined and cribbed about, the love for HIMYM has been discussed; i live a boring life so nothing exciting really happens...well nothing worth a blog post really, no current event has really affected/bugged/touched me. i dont want to write about the movies i have seen or the books i have read...not for now at least. and i didn't want to write about a stone (as I had once advised a friend who was just as clueless as to what to write about)

so decided to tweak an old post of mine, from my old blog. It was inspired by one of my favourite songs "these are a few of my favourite things..." from one of my favourite movies since childhood (even before DDLJ happened)- THE SOUND OF MUSIC- the best musical ever! On re-reading the post, I realized that some things were obsolete (like DU strikes/U-specials) and some needed to be added (like South Campus!). So here it is, the revised edition of some of my favourite things in the world, things which make me smile/laugh/happy.

curling up in a bed and reading a novel. DDLJ. practically anything with sugar in it. watching a movie first day first show. family reunions. new years. birthdays. playing cards till the wee hours of the morning with family. waiting at the airport or station to recieve someone. when india wins against pakistan. weddings. good hair days. chatting with old friends online. seeing the indian flag. hugging. my nephews. singing off key. travelling.F.R.I.E.N.D.S. my friends. staying up all night and talking. south campus. BONDING TIME. manhattan at night. laughing so hard my tummy hurts. piping hot pizza. the smell of rain. shopping for hours and then finding the perfect outfit. internet.getting a sweet sms from a loved one. 'flying on a jet plane'. shah rukh khan. MOVIES. writing. my parents. my family. compliments. romantic stories. waking up to a beautiful morning. gossip. the smell of rain. standing up for the national anthem and singing it at the top of my lungs. coffee. getting emails. old photographs. sitting in the winter sun. hot tea in the afternoons. HARRY POTTER. little kids. wearing new clothes. diwali. doing 108 at the temple. praying and getting what i want. surprises. the delhi skyline from the skies. paneer. canadian fall. the first snow of the winter. passionately about something. talking for hours on the phone. re-reading my favourite parts from my favourite books. hearing a favourite song being played on the radio. waking up from a nice long nap. reliving old memories.

this was FUN...i think ill do it again sometime :)

November 10th, 2008

One of the best days in recent times! Not one, not two, but multiple good things are happening! Oh what a feeling!

a quick roundup of the happy things that are happening:

1) A friend's offer letter came!

2) My sanskriti blog post was recovered!

3) Another friend took a strong and long pending decision :)

4) Orkut/facebook/all blocked sites are unblocked!

5) Internship tension is going to be taken care of !

6) The general happy feeling due to the family moving back to india :)

What a day! What a feeling :)