Not being able to tolerate a crowded cosmopolitan city's traffic at 10 pm, an unbelievably impatient pizza delivery boy cut across the road and got onto the footpath on his motorbike, threatening to kill literally everyone walking on it. Considering it was a stupid move on his part, he ended up running into a lamp post. So much for Dominos Pizza's free pizza offer if they are 30 minutes late.

Why do traffic police even make road safety commercials? No one even listens. or cares.

Oh wait, that probably means my dear mother would be out of work.

it was the holidays of december 2010. i had just finished a hectic semester at college and begged with my hands interlocked, looking at the sky. i felt like it was time i took a break that i truly deserved and couldn't wait to use the free time to relax and catch up on everything that i had missed out on. i went up to my mother and said, "mom i want to just chill these next 10 days ." my mother said, "oh no, i thought you could work somewhere". i had been through a bad break up. i didn't want to tell my mother and worry her, so i decided to stay quiet about it. "I....uhm, i don't know mom....is it really necessary?". it was. i didn't know it yet, but i needed to get out of the house, be around new people and experience new things. "yes i think you'll enjoy yourself at this internship. give it a shot".

before i knew it, i was walking into the office that i thought was possibly going to be the place i would last walk into ,considering i was so disinterested - just the scenario and the timing felt so odd and unappealing. i walked into the office and saw a short, stumpy man, yelling away on the telephone. "don't you have any brains? what the f***? be in here in another ten f*****g minutes". oh great, i thought . "good luck working with a crazy man for the next ten days", said my mind-voice. i walked a little forward when everyone in the office noticed me. i didn't see a big blinding chair opposite the stumpy man, and suddenly, saw a man rise up from the chair. he turned towards me and gave me a strong, confident handshake and introduced himself. there was something strange and different about him. i didn't know what it was but i felt like i had seen this person somewhere before. i didn't know how to react to his sudden gesture, but i decided to greet him and everyone else. while the people around, didn't make effort to make me feel comfortable, he escorted me around the office area, and spoke a little bit about himself, his past and all the exciting things he had done till those five minutes before he met me.

he was interesting. i've never really been too fond of chatty people, but i took an immediate liking to this person. i felt like there was something very sweet and innocent about this man (shocking, i know!), that drew him to me. as fate would have it, he was responsible for me throughout the two weeks of my internship. he was compassionate, knowledgeable, easy going and was simple yet smart in his own way. i started to think of him as the only person around the office that i could respect and have a real conversation with. as the internship ended, we went our own ways -back to two different cities. Little did i know what was in store for us.

a couple of days later, my phone beeped. i wondered who could be texting me at this odd hour. i saw a message from this person. my cell phone flashed the words "taxi" right across the screen.

my friend S always jokingly called my boss taxi. his reason behind this supposedly annoying nickname was based on his philosophy that relationships are like cars. you drive around, you enjoy the car's company and it reciprocates. but when the car starts to trouble you, you service the car the first time it does. and the second. and if you really like the car, maybe the third. but if it fails to keep you happy after, sell the car for pete's sake." so i questioned him in retrospect, asking him "what if i am not ready to buy a new car? what do i do then?" to which he responded, "take a taxi for a while, girl!". this odd equation that i shared with my boss fit in completely with his motto. "take a taxi! that doesn't sound too bad", i thought to myself. i decided to call him taxi.

a few days passed by, and i had just returned from a road trip with friends. and as my phone beeped, the words "taxi", flashed across my phone. i felt awkward. curious. a little interested. i thought to myself, "gah. what could taxi want? load me with some more work? call to ask if all was good? Hmm let me look at the message." "Hey i'm just at the beach around the corner. you should join me. the beach looks so beautiful right now. so beautiful". i was wondering what to make of that message, so i ran to one of my best friends, my mother (yes i can ask her these things, don't gape). "mom what do i do? taxi has invited me for a walk on the beach. is it totally awkward to go with my boss?", i exclaimed. "no not really. i mean its just a walk". "oh alright, guess i will go.". i met taxi right outside a brightly lit coffee shop - a landmark i knew and cherished for many years. as we met, we forced ourselves into an odd hug. it was the first time we met outside our workplace. we didn't know if we were friends, colleagues or anything more. taxi quickly made up for it, by bringing up a very general topic of discussion - the NOISE, that surrounded us at that point of time. As we walked into the beach, we witnessed a bit of the galatta and a colorful bright festival with tribal dances and musical events. the beach was filled with speakers that were blaring with extremely loud music.

we spoke. odd topics - informal conversation about blake lively, sunsigns, horoscopes, drinking habits, family, the sun, stars and the moon that was shining on us at that very moment. an hour passed by so quickly, and we left. it felt good to talk to someone older. someone who i could be myself with. a chance to be the younger, immature one.

as we communicated over text during the next couple of weeks, we loosened up, we flirted a bit too. there was some witty conversation technique, that we both seemed to be using to take our conversations forward. but nothing dramatic, nothing surprising. until the 12th of febuary. i was off to a nearby city to unwind for the weekend. as i put up my feet on a chair to enjoy the view from my balcony (a breathtaking view - the turquoise blue water of a beach), i received a text message. "i hope you are enjoying moonlit beachwalks." am i? i thought to myself. i replied saying that my iPod was my company, but that i was most definitely enjoying the beautiful landscape that filled the corners of my eyes. he said "it would be though to beat the other night at the beach", said taxi. "Wow. you are a sucker for the smallest things in life huh? Sometimes that is all you need.". I got him. He had to blurt it out. "sometimes is an understatement. my idea of a perfect night would be great music, great beach, great girl, moonlight on the backside, can't get any better." nailed it. as we continued to text each other, he made promises to keep. he vowed to take me to a place that looked like a necklace from the sky. i had already been to that place. but it was a gesture, a nice one and i was thrilled at the prospect of walking alongside such a romantic landscape and being in the company of someone who was as ambiguous as him.

a couple of weeks went by. i told him about my plans for the summer. he was ecstatic. super happy..to find out that i was spending two months of my summer in the big apple, but he was still curious to know the date of my departure. "why?", i asked. "no reason, just wanted to see how long you could survive without your superman." really? that's what he wanted to know? I'm sure. "well, isn't superman busy saving the world from evil forces?". "nope. superman would make some time for the "right" girl.".... how would superman know who the right girl was?"..."he just does." as we continued to speak, i asked him what his fabulous saturday night plan was. he said, "oh i'm just at a bar right now. scouting for hot girls so they can see i'm available?." i thought that was a stupid thing for him to say. but who am i to judge? oh well. "in that case, have a good time.", i replied. he laughed. he sensed resentment. he suggested that he wasn't actively seeking anyone. we went on to text each other for quite a while, before i realised it was time to hit the sack. our conversations were vague and random. we spoke for a bit, and we never kept in touch for a while but it was great and exactly what i needed. nothing serious or time consuming. it felt like i had a random connection with a random stranger, that suddenly felt so natural and real to me.

i'd never felt this way before.

in two weeks, i was packing my bags two months after our beach visit to the city that he lived in. i was on my way to a wedding with my father. i casually dialed taxi's number on my phone to let him know that i was in town, thinking it would be the right thing to do. being the gentleman that he was, he invited me for a fashion show and it's after party. could i refuse? did i refuse? yes i did, the first time. i called up my confidante once again. my mother asked me to stop acting juvenile, and told me to go have a blast. (i am lucky that she's so cool)

fashion week came by. we met at the lobby of the hotel where the event was being held. it was crowded with fashionable icons, people who were trying to make it big, people who were gossiping about which socialite recently married the richest lawyer and people like me - guests that had a purpose - to have a blast. i knew i wanted to party that night. i wanted to blow off some steam, and he seemed like someone who needed it just as much as i did. we walked into a vault like entrance, a club at the basement of a restaurant. it was beautifully lit. it played possibly the best music for the mood (like chicken soup for the soul) and i couldn't help but gulp 2 shots of vodka down my throat.

i was happy. happily high. and as i started to sway and enjoy the rhythm of that night, i felt myself closer to him than i had ever been. our fingers naturally slid into each other's and as we touched, i felt a spark. except that this wasn't a movie. this was practically a stranger - whose history i did not know of, whose age i was scared to guess, whose work made me believe he was a workaholic, and his heart - that wasn't transparent. the feeling was mutual and mysterious. i was intrigued by our desperation to hold each other's warm hands even when we were interrupted by potential clients, international guests and gossip loving co-workers who were waiting for their next scoop.

we enjoyed the music, continued to go round and round in circles without letting each other go. as i leaned into his ear to talk to him, we got closer. every part of our bodies touched - the strangest thing was that i felt natural. it felt right. from the very beginning. when i was finally ready to leave at 2 AM, he decided to be patient and calm and was kind enough to drop me at my doorstep, literally. he had to grab his bag and some essentials that he left upstairs in his office. i accompanied him back to the lobby, swaying from one side to the other. he was amused. he laughed two times at me, although i was puzzled and most definitely dazed. there was a table outside the event office, and we sat there to sober me up before i was dropped off at my brother's. as i sat there, i hugged my superman (for that's what i called him after he graduated from being a taxi to an 'unreliable' superhero). he felt troubled. tortured, rather. a drunk girl was holding on to him and loving the feeling of hanging on, while he had to stop her from tripping on her own feet. he finally told me that it was time to go home, and we decided to leave. as i was dropped off at my brother's (cousin - thank GOD i don't have an older brother), along came a moment. a moment of truth, to test if what we felt was real, mutual and honest.

he waved his hands and started walking away from me. i was intoxicated, for sure. but that didn't stop me. i caught his hand and pulled him towards me. i didn't care that he was older, someone i wasn't going to see. it was about that moment of truth, like i previously said. i leaned forward and kissed him. and before i knew it, he was kissing me back. as our lips touched, he did not want to back off. our passionate moment outside my brother's little studio in Mumbai was rather surprising. there was a spark from the very beginning of that night, and we were holding back till this moment. at the crack of dawn, it was time for him to breakfree and move back to leave. he was anxious and also a little confused. he shrugged it off, and kissed me goodnight one last time.

i felt like i was in this crazy dream. where i fell for a stranger, looked into his eyes with our hearts so close and our visions so far apart.

ilétait le cinéma.

10 random things.

i rub the nails of my fingers against each other in the belief that my hair will grow longer.

i dislike green beans.

i get bored easily (that's a problem).

i stalk people on facebook when i am bored - problem solved.

i love the smell of mud after rain.

i have never been a dog person till i met my neighbour's labrador. now i let him slobber all over me.

i avoid capitals. not cause i don't know how to use them. i think this is cuter. (excluding formal letters)

i hold peoples' pinky finger and interlock it with mine, when i sleep near them.

i don't like singing along with people.

i have a 60 year old best friend. she is 3 times my age.

reminiscence.

yesterday is all that we think about. it makes us what we are today.

a couple of days ago, i was asked to write an essay on the topic of 'reminiscence'. i wasn't sure about what i was going to say. i thought...broke my head, made a few paper balls and still kept thinking.

finally...my thoughts drifted and went back to my very first teacher. the teacher that i will remember for life.

i would like to share a story, one that is pretty important to me.

a story that changed me. i started singing when i was 13 months. before i could walk, talk or sleep, i could sing. it was a gift really. everybody around me felt the need to put me in a class that would bring out my voice and i obliged, assuming that i was going to be trained alone. of course i thought that, the spoilt little brat that i was. i only say this because i have heard my father sing, and it's not pretty.

i was a stubborn child, and would sing only if my mood permitted me to. no one could ever force me. although, when i did unleash my vocal chords, my little skit would go on for almost 10 to 15 songs at a stretch. i would glare at people if they sang along with me, get angry if anyone missed a beat. i expected everybody to applaud at the very end of my "baby-performance", as i'd like to call it. some of these small things about me are still a part of me when i sing. i am so partial to my music, that it can’t be anything less than perfect.

i would tap my feet and hum tunes almost all the time. i would sing all day and night. when i found out i was going to be trained with others, imagine the drama! i whined and cried and refused to go. but everybody convinced me to go. heck, i didn't even have a say..and can you blame me? i was four.

when i entered that music school, i really thought life was going to be piece of cake and that i could sing whatever i wanted. my teacher was wonderful and she told my mother almost immediately that i had a great eye for music. if only life were that perfect. my teacher had a husband, who was not involved with music. he was in the army. his role there was so irrelevant, except that this 60 something man (then) became indispensable to 4 year old me.

the rules were compulsory. we had to wear pavadai chattais, beaded necklaces, bindi's and camphor on our foreheads. if we didn’t wear any of that, we were asked to hold our ears and squat ten times. apart from singing, which was what we initially went there to do, we were asked to make 15 cups of coffee or oats for all the guests that came in. we had to come in early to water the plants and sweep the floors. we were trained from 9 in the morning to 1 in the afternoon, and again from 4 to 8 in the evening during summers.

the funny part about all of this is that i never felt bad to do any of these things. i knew my music teacher was wonderful, but it was her 60 year old retired husband, that made me realize the importance of punctuality, opportunities, practicing, winning and loving the art of music itself. it was a beautiful time, when things were easy and simple. i have learned to love music from that unbelievably wonderful couple. they are so old today, and unwell too..but they have taught me lessons that will be imbibed and etched in my heart forever. my happiness as a child is partially dedicated to them and my memories from that music class are by far the most special times in my life.


god bless childhood.

oh, you beautiful woman.

today's quintessential woman is one that is equal to super-woman. she brings her family together for dinner while juggling work and dealing with cranky children and a boss that could be the re-incarnation of satan. the question here, is if all of these things make her a "super woman" or a woman that finds her nemesis in the mirror? in this day and age, women are all about power too. gone are the days where they sat patiently at home watching dramatic soap operas on the television and chopped onions. today, it's even the other way around. do these things make a woman insecure?

on a lazy sunday afternoon, i sat with my grandmother to have our regular sunday conversations. she always looks extremely calm and composed, and i don't remember a time when i have heard her speak out of turn. a person with her own opinions, she still found her way and her path to womanhood through acceptance. She quoted once, "In those days, we used to wait patiently, we cooked food for 12 people a day. all by ourselves. if we worked, we were teachers, or we did social service at centers for children. we were very much unlike you girls", in her crackling voice.

i always wonder if they never had any questions and if they just did things because they were told to. back then, women played a major role in the house. but oustide, they hardly ever had a say. they were almost always confined to their batter-making machines and the traditional art forms that they pursued, like dance and music. they were pretty much blessed with great genes because of the simple life that they led.

on a completely different hand, a woman of today would absolutely disagree with a woman from the 80's. today, women are all about debating. she can talk her way through a divorce or anything related to money, power, politics, finances and sex. what can a woman of today not handle?

does that make her or break her?

in spite of all the pressure that a woman faces today, what makes her beautiful is her inner strength. the strength to be heard in a man's world, the strength to be a supportive mother, and the strength to blast her way through life without being a doormat.

that beauty is to be admired.
and that strength, is within every one of us.

praise you, you beautiful woman!

constantly changing.

do you believe in change? do you think it has happened to you?

it's happening to me. or so i think. hence the interrogation. so what keeps me smiling?

ok, let's rewind.

so i had a disastrous year. while switching between cities and shuttling between two parts of my brain, i have been trying to live what we call "life". while i am happy for people who have moved to a new city, a new country even, i miss them. at every juncture. at every point. in my opinion, happiness is overrated. for all this talk about finding joy in small things, if life were that simple, we'd all be happy by now. we'd have all that we want. but the truth is that even if we have the chance to be happy, we choose the road that takes us down to the other side (the boring one....little dark too).

there are a couple of things that have been missing in my life for a while now, the first one being enthusiasm.

where is all the enthusiasm in the world people? does nothing excite us anymore?

are we bound to just sit there and not care about anything or anyone that walks the face of the earth?

the next being a driver's license.

i don't know what pushes me away from the thought of being a legit driver. plain stupidity and procrastination on my part.

third being some kind of stability in making choices - that's pretty self explanatory.

you see how hard i'm trying to find a problem in my life? you see what i'm doing right there? that's exactly my point. if you really really think about it, you're not missing too many things if you're content with most things around you.

i'm trying to be thankful for what i have.

i'm trying to be normal. bright and shiny.

it's working. i'm changing...slowly but steadily. :)

i haven't posted in over a year and a half.

i have been busy.

not busy with activities, important meetings or round table conferences.

busy with my thoughts.

contemplating over things that could make or break my life.

what can i say?

a lot could have.. and has happened over this period.

high school results, college admissions, sleepless nights, long conversations, broken relationships, new friends, partying, accommodating, living, loving and being. but wasn't all of that enough? i was slowly but steadily entering that phase of my life, the phase that we call - 'youth'. i can't help but think of a ridiculous star from regional cinema when i say that word, but well, that's how i work. anyway, i walked through a really long road - facing my worst fears, enjoying moments of peace and working towards a goal (or so i thought).

you know how some people plan their life and it turns out so perfectly. i saw people around me - changing their minds all the time, and i would go - "i wonder why i'm so obsessed with this? why don't i have any options? is it because i'm sure i need to be here, or is it because i'm over confident?" But i was still proud. proud that i never let go, proud that i stuck to doing what i wanted to; proud that all i do, is cross barriers of sorts to get there.

but did it work for me? is it working for me?

i always feel like we need to go really far to get what we want. we sacrifice our homes, our friends, our life, our relationships and everything that comes attached, to go after what we want. my question is - when we do end up getting what we want..who do we share it with?

i wonder if i want to go all the way up a corporate ladder, just to be loaded and lonely.

every minute of the day that i work, i miss my family, my home, my people.

who shares your success with you?

i can't stay happy working all the time, if i can't come back home to share it with the people i love. i could be homesick, i could have had a bad day..and this could be a post that i may laugh at a couple or years down the line, or months even. but right now, everything is a blur. everybody goes through that phase don't they?

all we can rely on, is time..and hope that it heals everything.