THE UN-PAMPERED CHILD....

I feel like Fiona stuck inside a Barbie house. Or better still, Fiona dressed as Santa Claus, stuck inside a Barbie house. Clad in my 2 year old Red striped pajamas and a fading Red t-shirt, I feel ugly sitting inside this Barbie house. What Barbie house you ask me.

I am currently staying with my maternal uncle, his wife, my niece and my maternal grandparents, because the Chillar in my lady wallet isn’t fancy enough to let me afford a place on my own. Besides I recently started working so my bank account is still fighting cob webs. Now conforming to the traditional Indian forced hospitality, my niece has been kicked out of her Barbie den and this Fiona has been allowed to sleep on the gigantic Barbie bed, keep her clothes in a pink wardrobe, wake up to an alarm clock shaped as a Barbie head and write this post in a room filled with posters of Snow White, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood and the many other fancy named plastic bimbos. Even the bathroom curtain has princess posters with lace detailing, not to forget the Disney Princess glowing stickers stuck on the ceiling with the thin waisted, umbrella hipped babes looking down on me as I sleep. I absolutely detest it all.  

As an infant I never had a cradle. No fancy chimes to look at and make sounds. I used to sleep in a cloth crib made with my father’s old Lungi diligently tied to a hook originally meant for a ceiling fan. This same lungi used to come in handy while travelling in the second class coach of the train, for it was tied on the two opposite second berth railings with me being placed mid air. It was a mobile cradle. This kid also never had a room for herself, forget a themed room. This kid never had a Barbie doll.

I remember how I once saw my Nursery friend play with this gorgeous, unreal, pink haired Barbie doll. I also remember how I rushed home and demanded that I be promoted from stuffed sock bunnies with one eye missing to a frilled frock Barbie. I do remember how later that evening my father came home with a giant frizzy haired doll that would shut its monstrous eyes on being placed horizontally and yank it open when made to stand. While all the kids played kitchen set with their Barbies, I was home alone with my Bride of Chucky.

I never had a wardrobe I could call my own. I shared an old Godrej Almirah with my granny which she declared was too precious for her since it was passed down the generation line by her ancestors I don’t care about. I was the kid that was allowed to eat anything edible that fell on the ground because my mother confirmed that the floor was wiped clean yesterday. In short I was never pampered. Except for my childhood kleptomania where I stole stuffed toys and dolls from every house I visited, I was a fine child. No hard feelings against my family.

What I am trying to say is, it is not the theme based rooms that make a child. At the end of the day, sans the Barbies and sans the frilled princess curtains, I was always told I was loved. I was always showed that I was loved. Even while I looked like a suffocated zombie with no room to move my arms around in that Lungi crib, my mother sang for me. Hence, I never needed those colourful plastic chimes suiciding above my nose. I never had those cute pink trolleys which my mother could push around the shopping malls because I was the monkey child with her feet wrapped around her mother’s hip still being carried around like feather despite her whale weight.

And who knows what I would have turned into if I had a pink room with little princess styled mirror table and a fancy pink brush to comb my hair with. Who knows what I would have become if I had a collection of Barbie dolls and played kitty party with them? May be this blog would have been differently themed with “MY PINK UNICORN” being the name. May be it would have made me dress up like a girl and not like a confused transgender.

But hear me dear future child ‘o’ mine. Know that you shall never have any of the fancy stuffs that the world confirms too. Know that I won’t buy you a cradle. If you are a boy, know that I won’t get you toy trucks bigger than you just because your friend has it. If you are a girl, know that I won’t paint your walls with clouds and unicorns. Know that I will let you eat from the floor. Know that I won’t pick you up when you fall. Know that I know you will get up on your own. Know that I won’t even cry on your first walk.

But Know one thing, I shall Love you. Know all of this, because like me, I know you will grow up just fine!

P.S- The blog shall be 3 years old this February mid. So I thought why not make a Facebook page. Like it for me will you? -------> CLICK HERE SWEET HEART!

YO MOMMA SO.........!!!

So, do not mistake me when I say this but I think my mother has had it easy when it comes to being lucky. You know those kinds of people, who have been provided with Escalators by the Lady luck herself, while the underprivileged sweat as they climb barefoot? My Mother belongs to that category and me to the latter one. 

My Mother is an Income Tax officer who gets to supervise Raids. About the Income Tax thing, she swore on her sweet Father i.e. my maternal Grandfather that she was blank during the selection exam and resorted to INKY PINKY PONKY method. She was the first to get selected also. Why do I have to slog my ass out to get something I really want?!

I still remember how she and her office Fraands would sit at office and practise making SOFT TOYS. Exactly!! They would buy button eyes, cheap faux fur, sponge and would sit in the cabin together and make Monkeys or Rabbits during office hours. How do I know this? That is because as a child I was taken to her office and was allowed to waste papers by typing alphabets using the office Typewriter. 

Some weeks back she called me during one of her Raids. I guess she was raiding the Bungalow of the owner of a Pan Masala company. The Manikchand and Rajnigandha kinds, you get the idea. The conversation went something like this.

Meri Mother- I am at Gwalior right now.

Me- How is the raid going?

Meri Mother- Oh God! You know Beta, they have a lift inside their house. When I came, I was told that the owner and his Mrs were working out in their personal gym.

Me- Oh But how was the raid?

Meri Mother- You should see the tiles! My colleague Usha said that it is imported from Italy or something. Which is that place where they keep dead people under sand?

Me- Did you mean Egypt by any chance?

Meri Mother- Ah yes! Such costly tiles no? They have seven servants and they all look so clean! Our Asha bai should learn from them. I don’t think his Mrs allows them weekend off.

Me- Amma! Tell me about the raid.

Meri Mother- I am telling you no? You should have seen the cupboard of the Mrs! More than thousand sarees and all very costly! And the kitchen is so big! You and Varun can play football in there.

Me- Amma!!!

Meri Mother- We need to renovate our home. Let me call your father now.

Me- Amma atleast tell me what you guys found!

Meri Mother- Oh the men whom I supervised, found 20 guns from the basement. No licence you know. Big guns! Like we see in the movies!! And 73 lakhs of unappropriated money. Ok Beta, let me call your Dad. The kitchen needs a makeover too.

Yesterday she had to raid an office, and she was totally blank as to what to check and what not to. All the office documents were gibberish for her. Thank God she has some sensible subordinates and male colleagues. She is so innocent, that she won’t even take bribes. What waste! Also if the female in the house she raids starts crying, my Mother would join her in the weeping spree. 

I am not saying that she does not deserve any of this. She had her share of hard times too (like studying for Board exams in school). It’s just that I am jealous! She is fair and beautiful with curly hair while I am an Ugly duckling with pee coloured eyes. Life is grossly unfair!

P.S- My new roommate's nickname is Harni, but she hears me out even when I call her Horny :D (I already tweeted this)

P.P.S- Wasn’t my last post good enough? Only 32 people read it. Show me some love.

P.P.P.S- I never show my mother what I write. She has the habit of taking it to office and forcing her fraands to read.  But I can kill you or anyone for her!

Funeral Drama

Real life drama is true entertainment and sometimes it’s better than those trashy soaps that the idiot box injects you with. I will tell you something and I tell you this with the experiences that have come my way. Funeral is the best place these days to find the real life drama. Yes my reading idiots yes! Funeral it is.

Don’t believe me? Roll a JCB over your “I DON’T ATTEND FUNERALS” phobia and find time to attend one and you would rightfully agree.

Scene 1- Grief is in the air. The large courtyard is the venue for the disastrous occasion. Interestingly the family has found time to import orchids and white tulips to accessorize the venue. The casket protects the body of a wrinkled old man who seems disinterested in what’s happening around. Eyes closed and forced into a crisp black suit, hands folded clutching a cross. He just lies there and that’s his role. They made sure that his casket is made of rosewood. Status is important, though the man who left for his heavenly (subject to change) abode was despised dearly. The service is to start in five minutes.

Scene 2- The eldest daughter is not happy with the black boat necked black dress she got herself for the occasion. The younger son is perturbed with the fact that it’s the other son who gets to do the eulogy. The wife of the man in the leading role (the casket man) sits still. She hated him while he was alive but now realizes that when he left her with some peace, he made her a widow.

Scene 3- Neighbors, well-wishers, haters, envious but now relieved rivals, sly relatives pour in and take the seats. The ladies glance across the rows comparing the hats, the gowns, the lip colors. The men remain still while their mind acts like the judge deciding who would be the getting the biggest chunk of the dead old man's property.

Scene 4- The priest starts the service and reads out phrases from the Holy book. It is then followed by the most awaited EULOGY. The elder son makes his way gallantly towards the stage and clears his throat. His baritone echoes throughout the courtyard. Words like ‘Lord loved him more’, ‘he is still among us’, ‘he was a great father’ are part of the eulogy. His wife gives him THE LOOK and he knows that something is missing. His stern expression changes into an emotional heart breaking tear pouring one. His part is done and so he steps down. The choir in designer gowns starts singing ‘JESUS IS CALLING’, when a phone starts ringing barbarically. Jesus is truly calling I guess.

Scene 5- The service is over and the gathering turns noisy. The elder crowd discusses the property division. The women still cling on to the makeup stories. The husbands talk about business ventures. The widow sits near the casket reliving the past. She would miss him though he was not a good husband. Now she is dependent on the mercy of her three children. The priest is not happy with the gift he received for the service he rendered. More green notes are needed. The three children discuss about the funeral expense and finally decide that their mother the widow should also hand over her share.After all it was her husband too.

Scene 6- Fast forward. The service is over; the body rests deep in the soil. Happy that it is not a part of this masked world. Hell might be more genuine. A big black and white expensively framed photo of him is nailed to the front room wall. His story ends there.

P.S- This is not the story of every funeral. True emotions are a part of many but with the passage of time, relationships are just becoming word of mouth. Reality is turning bitter day by day.

Image courtesy- cartoonstock.com

CLASH OF THE SOAPS

This post was an idea generated by another blog which I stumbled upon. Television soaps are like the lifeline of Indian women. Be it from any part of India, the women folk have their eyes glued to their favorite regional or national TV serial. They watch it so devotedly and it looks like their lives are hugely affected by the words of the serial BHOOTNI or the so called VAMPS of the serials. Well, this post has nothing to do with the effects of serials in the minds of the young or whatever. So you can boldly read on.

I was just listening to some songs when it hit me. As you know most of the Hindi serial titles are taken from the old Bollywood songs. So if the titles of some famous English tracks are taken, what could the plot of the soap possibly be?

Here are some famous English tracks and my plots for them.

1)      Summer of 69 by Bryan Adams- This story is about a tiny village of India (nobody cares were it is!). A man enters the village as a tourist but notices that all the villagers are Zombie like and rarely talk. They look at him with KHAUF BHARI AANKHEN. He investigates and finds out that a woman died in the summer of 1969 and her curse made the villagers ZINDA MURDAS!! 

2)      I am toxic by Britney Spears- Scene 1- A man busy working in his dim lighted underground chemistry lab with fumes surrounding him and potions bubbling in the test tubes. Scene 2- He gives an evil smile and drinks the potion and faints. Scene 3- He gets up with yellow snake eyes and he is as toxic as a cobra. Scene 4- He goes around biting and killing his enemies.

3)      Poker Face by Lady Gaga- This will be aired as an episode of the famous C.I.D series. A lady with her face painted of poker cards is going around the town killing handsome guys and putting their body in gunny bag and throwing in the river. ACP Pradyuman investigates and catches her in a public toilet. On further investigation they find out that she is actually a man.

4)      Meet me Halfway by Black Eyed Peas- The hero is in love with an alien who he accidently bumped into while the alien was visiting the Earth. She had to go back and he could not miss her. So this serial is how he makes a spaceship and goes in it to meet her. The alien also does her part and comes with her spaceship. They meet up on a meteoroid where the eventually make love and have babies who look like the Avatar.

5)      Candy shop by 50 cent- This is a love story where a girl works in her family run store dealing with chocolates and candies. The hero comes to buy candies on Valentines Day for his girlfriend and meets this girl. She helps him with the selection of the candies. Later the guy gets dumped and blames the candy girl. In the end they fall in love and live happily ever after.

6)      In the end by Linkin Park- Like the name suggests the story keeps the audience guessing about the climax which never comes. The lives of almost ten generations of a particular family are showcased

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7)      You found me by Fray- Two brother separated in the famous Kumbh Mela spend their youth trying to search out each other. Each guy’s story and love affairs are individually shown. They find each other in the end but the happiness does not stay long because they eventually find out that they both were sharing the same girlfriend.

That’s all I can think of right now!! Add up your own plots for some famous tracks!! :D