FIND LOG....

Once upon a time, in a land not so different from ours, lived a beautiful princess. A beautiful brown princess. The princess was loved by her king father and her queen mother. She was allowed to draw on the walls, walk around with a huge towel on her hair pretending to be Rapunzel and they even let her hang upside down on the mango tree right outside their castle. Basically the princess was brought up in the most awesome way ever!

And then the little princess grew up. The naïve princess used to still hang upside down on the tree, much to the private entertainment of the village goons. She wore things that were not princess like but was rated top by Elle magazine and began to attend late night princess parties. She occasionally even smoked on some grass. But she did all of this knowing that her Daddy King and Mommy queen will love her through all her wishes. And then one day when the princess fell in love with a local boy from the flea market, her king dad and queen mother summoned her to their chamber and uttered the three words of doom………….. ‘LOG KYA KAHENGE’

So, the princess took off her princess crown and set out on a long journey in search of these ‘LOG’, in order to find out what they had to say about her princessy affairs.

Castle walls were jumped, the perimeters of the kingdom were traversed, mountains were climbed and rivers were crossed in search of these mystical creatures called ‘LOG’. And just when her princess feet were about to give up, she saw shadows beyond a thick glass of fog. She dragged herself across till she finally saw a huge crowd of ‘LOG’ who were saying too much to decipher. Like a swarm of bees.

The princess concentrated on this particular lady from the gang of LOG, so that she could finally hear what the LOG said. “Pata Hai,Ramu ki beti ka selection IIT mein nahi hua” said one member of the LOG clan to another, to which the other replied “Aur kya tumhe pata hai, Sushma ka beta Videshi Bahu ghar laya hai. Bechari Sushma.”. The princess overheard someone else saying “Are Maloom hai, Suraj ji ki beti ne lou marriage kar li. Ab kaise mooh dikhayenge Suraj ji.” And then came another one “Prakash ka ek beta hua hai aaj. Log keh rahe hain ki wo baccha prakash ki tarah nahi dikhta.” The buzzing went on and on, till the princess fainted because of the headache.

On opening her eyes, she again concentrated to hear more from the LOG. She wanted to hear more about the guy who brought a Videshi bahu home, or about the Ramu ki beti who couldn’t get through IIT. But she couldn’t hear even a faint whisper about them, for they were now replaced by new stories ranging from “Asha ki tummy tuck operation” to “Ranjit ki beti ka short skirt”. There were new stories and the old ones died a happy death.

It is then that it dawned upon the little princess that these news including her princess affairs are like Bread. No one relishes on a stale bread. Once the bread gets stale, a new packet of MODERN SWEET BREAD is bought from Kake ki Dukaan. The circle continues. The LOG needed fresh dough every day.

So the princess returned to her princess castle and declared to her Daddy King and Mommy queen “The LOG  may have too much to say, but whatever they say has a validity period which is very restricted. I think I can survive that.”

And so, the pretty brown princess married the local boy from the flea market and lived happily ever after. Killing fleas.

THE END.

P.S- If I tell such stories to my kids, they might just crawl away and never return.

P.P.S- I lost a tooth yesterday. Long story.

NOTE: Check out the Uber Cool Blog Header made by the amazing Neha from 'NOODLES-Neha Doodles'. Click HERE to check out her work!!!!

DEAR DADDY SERIOUS

Nobody is more serious than a young girl’s father. A little girl has the ability to transform a free-bird of a boy into an extremely serious and careful man. My father is as serious as serious can be. 

Recession never hits an Indian father who is busy hoarding money for his daughter’s future wedding. If I were to tell you a round about figure, I have so much gold right now decked up for my wedding that I can even afford a sex change surgery. Ok, bad example.

Around five minutes back I got a call from my father. A certain guy from Australia saw my matrimonial profile in one of the gazillion match-fixing sites I am enlisted in and was desperately interested. With equal desperation he wanted to have our Kundlis matched. Never knew that “May I have your number please” has been replaced by “May I have your Kundli please”. My father sadly told me how his family rejected me because of the Jupiter that is sitting on my eighth house and a certain Mr.Shani who was playing hide and seek inside my Horoscope. He cracked the news of the rejection expecting a painful cry from my side, while I was lost in the feat of trying to figure out how Jupiter can be in my eighth house when I still live with my parents. I cannot even afford to live on rent, forget being able to afford eight houses.

But it is not always I that gets rejected. My father loves rejecting and selecting men according to their educational qualification, salary range, ancestral origin, current living city, height, weight, girth etc. It is exactly like the time when he was researching to buy his second car. 1200 cc engine only, Honda brand, Moon silver colour, power steering, petrol only, air bag and many such specifications. The only difference was that now he was trying to buy a son-in-law with in-built specifications that matched his taste. The process of rejecting and getting rejected is a never ending process.

I do not understand this seriousness behind this whole ‘get your daughter married before she hits quarter century’ thing. Gone are those days when people of the two opposite genders could converse with each other only through incoherent tensed mewls. I for sure am a very demanding person and I make sure my demands are met. Every girl is worth that. Ok for the sake of equality, men are worth it too.

My father is the best person on earth and I am the type of girl who replies to every girl who say’s “My Daddy Strongest” by “Sorry but I heard he lost the trophy to my dad”. But I must accept that this whole marriage fiasco has been seriously draining the life out of him.

So Dear Dad, it is time you took a deep breath and let things take their own course.  You raised me well, taught me to never go for something lesser than perfect and to always put across my opinions if I strongly believed in them. So here is my opinion. CHILL. Know that these rejections do not matter. I can find my own pet. Know that this gold hoarding will not do me any good. If anything, take a trip with Mom to Peru. I know you always wanted to go there. Know that watching the calendar dates pass by and marking my age will only make you grey faster. I did notice that your monthly visit to the local barber to get your hair dyed has doubled.

Know that you can still be that free bird you were before I was born. Know all this, because behind that seriously serious man, is a boy who used to do stand up comedy back in college.

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YOUR HONOUR, CONDITION SERIOUS HAI !!!

The number of times I have slept off in an open courtroom is not something I can openly disclose. Especially considering the fact that it was just 3 months back that I was christened a lawyer, it is impressive how I have not yet been ousted for contempt of court.

Every day, I wriggle into my coat, tie the inverted ‘peace’ signed plastic collar around my neck, wear my lawyer’s gown and make my way to the courthouse. I then move into the room where my client’s case would be heard, and the fact that my client is missing in action, amuses me. I sit on the last bench of the court room with dozens of lawyers, nonchalantly going through their case papers, teaching their clients what to speak on oath like a parent preparing a kid for a school entrance interview. I am transported to the land of black and white cinema, with white shirt inside black gowns floating around, the white painted walls and the wooden floors darkened by the shadows of the lawyer robes, forlorn faces, destitute faces, but minus the Bollywood background song to break this monotony. I fall asleep.

The hammer becomes my alarm bell and I am forced to stand up as the Judge enters, which by the way gives me a moment to stretch my way out of slumber. This is when you notice how we are greatly influenced by the Chinese courtesy, as all the lawyers young, old and antique bend forward to look at their boots as a mark of respect to the judge. The judge ignores us all without a smile, sits down and the court session begins.

My case is called and I startle back to reality. I just came here to adjourn a case which my senior said is a piece of cake. I bow, call the judge various names (in honour that is), sneer and successfully get the adjournment. I turn back to the lawyer’s desk placed right behind me to sign on a document before submitting it to the court.

Suddenly the entire court room goes “HAWWWWW!!!” but I continue to sign the document enjoying the symphony in their tone. That is when another lawyer half my height and twice my weight nudges me and introduces to me the eleventh commandment.

 ‘Thou shalt never show thy ass to the Judge’.

I stood straight and in a manner that only a contortionist can, signed the document and walked away mutely as the entire court looked at the ‘SINNER’ me.

Why cannot I show my ass to the judge? Especially when it has layers of cloth covering it and a Dracula gown hiding the curve like a curtain. Why take an ass so seriously? I was just signing a document not giving a strip show.  In Logon ki Condition Serious Hai!

How I want to Look Like

How I Look Like

I wonder what this court house will look like with a little bit of color or a Saturday ‘WEAR-WHATEVER-YOU-WANT-MAN’ day. It is not like I murdered somebody, my client did (NOT). So why cannot I go to court in pink and purple and let him mourn in black and white.  I wonder how it would feel if I could show my ass to the judge while signing the document and not have to walk away from the podium like a rejected devotee leaving the temple or like a video on rewind. I wonder how breezy it would be to walk around the court in simple suits like in the west, than have to drag myself wearing a black                                                       ‘SAUNA’

Never knew that Justice can only be rendered wearing black and white. Maybe it is because lies can only be told in black or white. I wonder all this as I doze off awaiting my next case hearing.

Lawyers ki Condition Serious hai. Cadbury 5 Star, inject us all!!

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POLISHING SCHOOLS......

Have you heard about Polishing schools? The type of schools mostly for young women, that focuses on teaching etiquettes and cultural norms as a preparation for her entry into the adult society? Have you heard of such schools?

If you are a girl, with no reference to a particular age here, you are unknowingly a part of a finishing school. The home that you are born into is your finishing school while your entire family are the teachers. You do not enrol into this course because you are just born into it. Hell, you do not even pay for it. 

This finishing school that you are unwittingly a part of has only one course to offer. A course of an undetermined length preparing you for a hassle free, divorce free and domestic violence free marriage. Still do not get me?

Do you remember the age of 18 when you were just angry at everything and life just completely sucked? It still does, but that is not the point. Do you remember how you would be simply angry at your mother, your father, your dog, your tailor and even at Ramu Kaka the driver? Precisely everyone? And do you remember how your mother poked you and told you “With this behaviour, if you are married off to another house, you would probably be thrown out by your in laws.”

Do you remember how you hate having rice, especially the big fat south Indian rice and you declare that no matter what happens you would never consume that dreadful rice? Do you remember how your grandmother declared “What if you get married to a guy who lives on this big fat rice? What is he loves it so much that he mistakes it for oxygen. What will you do then? You must consume rice.”

Do you remember how this one time your family was invited for dinner by someone whose name you constantly forget and they served you Malai Kofta, Paneer bhurjee, Dahi Vada and how you bluntly told them that you hate milk products? Do you remember how later that day your grandfather frowned at you and told you how you shouldn’t be so stubborn because your food habits will change according to the family you marry into?

Of course you don’t remember any of this, because all that happened with me.

And I say “to hell with this finishing school”. Why would you marry into a family that cannot accept you with your anger, stubbornness, your outspoken attitude and decides to throw you out? Why should you have rice because your guy likes to stuff himself with big fat rice? Let him have his rice, I will have my prized Chappathi. Why should I start drinking milk because the family I might marry into has a herd of cows in their backyard? Let them drink it all. Good for them! Why should I change?

Adapting to a new family and to a new phase of life is nice. But a forceful change that rips out your individuality and your personal choice is not a wise thing to do. And besides isn’t marriage a two way commitment?  Let the man throw away his anger, his rice porn and become anti-lacto. Then I would call it an equal world.

Because I am not a Goat, Mister! You cannot give me away and pray that they like my make. I am a Tigress. I mark my territory Sir!!

P.S- I shall die a spinster. Thank you!

P.P.S- Appeared in court as a Lawyer for the first time today. Felt good being the youngest around. Consumer Court Case.

A BLOUSY AFFAIR......

Studies have shown that 9 out of 10 women are certified blouse readers. Blouse reading is an ancient art of knowing the character and the psychology of a woman by carefully analyzing the pattern of the blouse she chooses to wear. It is an art exercised and promoted only by those belonging to the kingdom of muliebrity and done rightfully so because the trend of Indian men wearing a blouse or a saree  is not yet in practise.

Blouse readers can be found everywhere and are not constrained to a particular age group. Though known to be carrying out their profession individually, they can be found to be collectively practising their gift and expanding their domain at public get-togethers like weddings, kitty parties, ladies sangeet, anniversary bash, spinster party and even baby showers. The key difference between a blouse reader and a palm or face reader is the fact that in the former, the person whose character is being read out has no idea that she is being given a reading free of cost.  Hence, studies have shown that this art is practised for personal amusement and also used as a tool among the feline part of the human race to bond more effectively. 

Yesterday Mrs. Sunita attended Mrs. Kukreja’s 25^th Anniversary bash wearing a blouse with hooks on the back, breaking the conventional norms of having hooks in the front. This act of displaying the hooks instead of conservatively covering it up with the Saree Pallu was noticed by the many veteran blouse readers including Mrs.Kukreja, who later that evening told her maid that she felt that Mrs.Sunita was being a cougar who wanted to entice the men in the party with her public display of the hooks. The maid being an incompetent blouse reader could only nod in the affirmative.

You have to be privileged to deserve a blouse reading since it is not for everyone. The conventional ‘U’ neck, medium sleeved blouse that you wore for Mrs.Chadda’s kitty party acted like the invisible robe that Harry Potter wore during his voyeuristic nights. You need to have some guts and you need to have some self confidence to deserve a free reading. Why do you think the veteran blouse reader at your home i.e your mother pointed a finger at Priyanka Chopra and said “What is she trying to be? The maths symbol for percentage (%)?” as the woman danced to the tune of ‘Desi Girl’ with the saree pallu dividing her chest into half, while her sleeveless blouse displayed her toned arms and her well endowed everything else.

It all started back in the age of sage Vishvamitra who sat for a severe penance, while Menaka a beautiful celestial nymph tried to break his Tapasya with her backless and sleeveless blouse. On watching her so do, the other Apsaras called her a ‘Loose Girl’ and moved their head from right to left with a disgruntled look on their face. It is they who became the Godmothers of Blouse reading and since then, the art has thrived on the bosoms of the confident ladies who took it as their job to promote this secret art by wearing airy blouses at every opportunity they got.

A puffed sleeve means that you are trying to camouflage your skinny hands that resemble chicken legs. A 3/4^th sleeve means you have gigantic arms that you are trying to hide beneath all that cloth. A backless blouse makes the women weep for your parents, while a sleeveless armpit showing blouse points towards your bad upbringing.  A deep back neck with a thread knot in the middle questions your culture while a short blouse that ends an inch below your ample bosom screams about your ugly character. Your blouse style has nothing to do with fashion but everything to do with your moral code of conduct. Your blouse design has nothing to do with your confidence but everything to do with your shamelessness. Your deep neck has nothing to do with the fact that you can carry it off beautifully, but everything to do with your loose character. It is not just a blouse but your armour of righteousness. Your blouse defines your worth.

A woman is a woman’s arch nemesis. While all the men flock together sharing beer and getting fat, women too flock together but with their knives pointed towards the next one’s back. It is time we saw a woman outside the blouse she chooses to wear (pun intended).

Also it is time that I stop writing about such a blousy affair.

P.S- If you are wondering why I wrote about a blouse, even I am wondering the same. Let us wonder together.

THIS IS A TENSE SITUATION !!!!

                                        

Dear children, today in our English class we shall learn about the difference forms of ‘TENSES’. Now tenses are what determines the ‘Noun’ that you are today, based on the ‘verbs’ you were indulged in throughout your life. So based on that analysis, I have broken down the Tenses into three categories- PAST, PRESENT and FUTURE. Now let us further break them down and try to understand each tense in the most suitable manner possible.

  

PAST SIMPLE TENSE-  Once upon a time, I made a boyfriend. That boyfriend was a complete loser. I dumped him. He threatened me. I showed him the finger. That is my Simple Past. He is now married. I am pretty tensed for his wife and kids. There you have the Past Simple Tense.

  

PAST CONTINUOUS TENSE-  During my college days, I made a lot of friends. A chosen few not worth a dime. But like they say, you got to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, so I keep them in my life and watch them smile at me with teeth that resemble a snake’s bare fangs. They are my past, still being continued and sometimes I get tensed because of their interference. Hence, Past continuous tense.

PAST PERFECT TENSE- There was a time when my brother resembled a midget. I was the Britisher in his Indian life and his independence was for me to decide. Interestingly, he was not much of a Gandhi and his non violence was utilized by me to the greatest extent possible. Now he is 16 and a towering 6 ft, while I am a midget 5’2. That past of ours was simply Perfect and this current situation is making me tensed. Now you know the Past Perfect Tense.

PAST PERFECT CONTINUOUS TENSE- When I was in Nursery, I made a friend. Then on my 29^th day to school, I made another friend who had gorgeous almond eyes. This almond eyed kid became my best friend and the Nursery kid also joined our school. Almond eyed kid invited me and the Nursery kid on her 5^th birthday and the nursery kid asked the almond eyed girl if she could bring her best friend too. So the almond eyed kid allowed the nursery kid to bring her ‘Dora-the-explorer’ look alike best friend to the kiddy party. We four have been together even since. They are my past perfect, still being continued. Thinking about us taking different paths in life, far from each other makes me tensed.

PRESENT SIMPLE TENSE- Currently I am preparing for the Judicial Service. Always believing in touching the society directly, I rejected the corporate life that was being shown to me like meat to a tigress. I wanted litigation but Daddy blackmailed his daughter into giving judicial service a chance. So, I have spent my past 1 year preparing for it, sincerely hoping that it was not wasted. The exam date is on 17^th November. This is my simple present and I am pretty much tensed about it.

PRESENT  CONTINUOUS TENSE- There is a guy. Best friend, teacher and everything a person can desire for in a human form. I don’t talk much about him because there are certain emotions that you want to be enjoyed just by you. I am quite possessive like that. He is my present still continuing and sometimes he makes me pretty darn tensed.

PRESENT PERFECT TENSE- I am currently in a very peaceful stage of my life. After 5 years of Law school, I spent the last one year being home, taking care of my body, travelling in and around Europe, visiting the Andamans and off course focusing on the judicial service. I also got enrolled in the Bar and now have an ‘Adv.’ prefixed to my name. This present is perfect but the fact that darkness follows a sunny day, makes me quite tensed.

PRESENT PERFECT CONTINUOUS TENSE- I used to be fat. I have no qualms about it. Fat and not at all confident about myself. Last year I joined a gym and I have so far lost 16 kilos. From 80 to 64kilos. I am happy with the current me and do not want to reduce to a walking stick. This is my Present Perfect which is continuing and thinking about becoming fat again because of my binge eating makes me quite tensed.

SIMPLE FUTURE TENSE- Now if I do get through the judicial service, I would get posted to some tribal area where I might be the only person inside the court. Also if I do not get through judicial service, I might have to migrate to Chennai or Cochin and be a junior lawyer to some Fancy Dorky Senior Advocate. This future though quite simple and planned, makes me quite tensed.

FUTURE CONTINUOUS-  Marriage will be a part of my future and my parents like all the billion parents in India are on a lookout for the authentic super amazing husband for their daughter. I am not mature enough or eager enough to digest the whole concept of marriage, especially the system of an arranged one. I cannot even make a round Roti. This gets me tensed and this tension shall continue for a long period of time. This is Future Continuous tense!

FUTURE PERFECT TENSE- I believe in myself and that is a something that has to be instilled in someone as a child. I believe that even if I do not become a judge or even if I do not get cases to fight on easily, I know that life is going to get perfect in the next 5 years. My future shall be perfect, but the fear of making the wrong choices, makes me tensed. Hence, the future perfect tense.

FUTURE PERFECT CONTINUOUS-  I am a perfectionist and anything less than perfection is frowned at if not rejected. This perfectionist attitude shall continue throughout my future and thinking about a disorderly life has got me all tensed. FUTURE PERFECT CONTINUOUS indeed!

I hope the lesson has been learnt and the tenses have been digested. In case of any doubts, do not refer to WREN & MARTIN, because those guys seriously got everything wrong. Contact me directly for any further assistance.

Till then take care and write a blog post about your tenses.  

P.S- Did any one of you notice the blog facelift? Please say you did. I gave it a makeover after 2 years!! Tell her she looks pretty!

P.P.S- This is what the Fashion Industry has been missing!!