Whacky things I did this weekend

Disclaimer: Trying any of the listed things without the supervision of a whacko is not advisable.  

·         Bathed with liquid dettol soap instead of regular cream soap

·         Had a coffee mixed with coke and pudina ka chutney (yuk!!! Yuk!!!!)

·         Watched 4 movies back to back…9 pm to 4.30 am in the morning

·         Descended the elevator which was going up at the metro station

·         Went out in the car, with my three rogue brothers at aprrox 100 km/hour with the Amplifier song playing at “are u crazy ?“ levels

·         Got my hairs red-streaked……now m the red headed brunette (downright puke-in-the-mouth cheesy)

·         Whackiest of all – Thought of writing this post

Sands of Time

Sands of time slips through... 
Awe-struck  we watch ... 
Surreal seems our past... uncertain our future... 
Trying to find a meaning  in our aimless ambling ... 
We move on... holding onto our hopes... 
Trying to turn dreams into reality ... 
For that joyous moment which would make sense of it all... 
Before Sands of time 's final pall


- A Friend

Sandesh

Here is the list of messages, I got to say to few people

Hair-mess Besharmia – STOP acting!

Ram Gopal Verma – STOP making films!

Arundhati Roy – Don’t misuse the freedom of expression!

My latest crush – Please, make use of freedom of expression!

Sony TV – Gimme a break from CID

Star Plus – Gimme a break from all ur Saas Bahu series!!

Josh Hollway – Marry me

Hugh Jackman – Marry me

Ranbeer Kapoor – Great!! Keep on going!

Rakhi Sawant – It’s high time now! Stop it!

Naveen Jindal – Act responsible!

Vivek Oberoi – Don’t act at all!

Rajneeti – 3 stars!

Kites – 2 black holes!

Property dealers in NCR – My cell phone is not a public hoarding! Stop sending ur crappy smses ! I don’t wanna buy any property!!

Osama – What a waste of human cells!

Obama – Clone your self!

Shakti, my friend – Grow up!!

Salman Khan – Never grow old!

My Employers – I am over loaded with work!!

Hritesh Deshmukh – I am free these dayz…ask me out!!

My brother – Please drive slow…especially when I am the pillion rider on ur bike…and don’t you dare to use ur software engineering skills to open my pass word protected files stored in the lappy!!

My Parents – Your little daughter has grown-up, stop molly coddling, being over protected…n let me go on a trip with my friends in july

Steve Jobs – Great invention!

Mark Zuckerberg – Crappy invention!

Entire Universe – I am me...the DEEPALI

Football, Shootball - Hai Rabba!, Vuvuzella – Subhanallah!

Little embarrassed, I confess, I have preference for small balls over the large ones. Well, before you coarse mind jump off to any conclusion, let me clarify, I am here talking about cricket ball and football. And, I am embarrassed because of my inadequate vocabulary about football world cup 2010. Bafana-Bafana, Diski dance, Zakumi, Jabulani, Makarapa – Will somebody translatethese Zulu words for my sake?

No doubt cricket has lost its sheen after Modi’s (the most convulsive four letter word that happened to the Indian cricket) scam. But I still prefer –
Saurav ganguly’s shirtless celebration over Shakira's swaying hips on Waka-Waka
Sachin flicking the ball through a narrow gap at midwicket for a four than Messi slotting a pass between the defenders, high into the net past the goalkeeper
Watching Jonty Rhodes diving for a catch than Julio Cesar somersaulting to stop a goal
Exchange of swearwords between Pakistani and Indian cricketers than Kaka wildly shoving Keita

Hailing from the nation of noise – India, I just love vuvuzella, a vociferous air horn. Though vuvuzella has been criticized a lot for its ear-shattering mad bee drone, but I believe it is an impressive instrument, an instrument of impression. It’s better than Sambha drums in Brazil, better than the ringing of cow bells in Switzerland. And guess what, me being a complete whacko, even have vuvuzella as my ring tone!!!!

And yes, before I end this post, lets all pray Argentina wins the world cup. Not because I am supporting the Argentinean Team, I told you I don’t like football. July 12 will be declared a holiday by our company’s MD if the team wins the cup.

SNAFU

Nothing was going well that day in my askew and out-of-kilter world. The day started with a big fight with mom over a thing as petty as ginger. I like my tea plain, no added flavors or fragrance. And she had put aadrak (which was supposedly good for my bad throat).

I glanced at my watch. It was 8:45 am. Gosh! I was late. I gulped the remnants of my cup unwillingly. I was moving as fast as I could. Took the escalator to the metro platform today instead of the stairs which formed the part of my morning exercise. Alas!! The Metro was running late too due to some accident near CP. I cursed my luck. Stuck in a Snafu (SNAFU, acronym meaning Situation Normal: All F***ed Up)….

I hailed an auto. As usual, a typical Delhi autowala. He asked for double the rate. I didn’t have the time and the energy to argue, so I agreed. He was literally driving at 20 km /hr. Even cyclewalas were overtaking us. I made an heroic effort to rein in the curses that wanted to leap out of mouth. Somehow, I managed to reach my destination, just in time.

I entered my college gate…..barely able to walk straight with 3 bags weighing about 5kgs each in my hand. (Men always wonder what do women carry in their big bags….this question I will definitely answer in my next post)

Suddenly I saw something that piqued my interest. It was a bag. A blue colour Nike bag. Iridescent blue. I could recognize it even from half a mile (given the fact that blue colour has the shortest wavelength, I could still spot it) . Yes it was him. My heart sank. And rose again with delight. Sigh!!

He was moving towards the lift. Wow!!!! My bad day was soon going to turn lucky. My robotic eyes calculated the distance between ‘us’. I did some mental physics . If I run at 5 m/s with acceleration of 2.5 m/s^2 I will be able to reach the elevator at the same time as him (Being attentive in physics class helps). So I ran. Without caring for the colossal weight I was carrying. What a sight it must be. A short petite girl in salwar kameez scurrying at 5 m/s with 3 huge bags!!! Finally I made it. Without falling or tumbling. In one piece. With all 208 bones and 639 muscles in place. Except for my heart . For it was beating frenetically.

There he was. My object of desire. Smiling, making my heart go all gaga. My breathing smacked like a hammer in my chest. For a moment I lost all my auditory and visual senses. A state of oblivion. A déjà vu.

Don’t waste your time.Start a conversation. Say something intelligent to impress him.
As reality seemed to enter in my conscious again, I asked him, “Are you going to the 4th floor”

Bloody hell! What an intelligent question!!!. Of course. Couldn’t you see he pressed the button for the 4th floor.Oh that reminds me I hadn’t pressed the button?
Bam!! Suddenly with a small jerk the lift came to a halt. I was ecstatic. It will buy me some more solitary time with him.

“Oho!! Kya hua….yeh india ke lifts be naa” His expression was detached.
I tried again, “My Financial Engineering lecture will start in another five mins”. He didn’t pursue it either.

Now it was getting awkward. I didn’t look at him. But could feel his presence, metabolizing the oxygen.

I was getting panicky now. Fishing out my phone from my bag, I asked “Should I call the somebody for help?”In his characteristic composed and restrained manner, He said”You pressed the stop button , instead of the 6th floor”. And then he burst out in a hysterical laughter.

Yes!!! Situation normal. All f**ked up.

Because.....

Its not a business i got into...



Its not an investment i made...



Its not returns i seek...



Its not give and take...



Its not about good and bad...



Its not about right or wrong...



It is not because of who i am... is not even because of who you are...



NO reasons ... NONE required...



Its because just because....


- Shakti Swami

PS: I know, a picture of heart doesn’t at all go with this post, but the crazy author insisted on putting a heart along with the post.

Meri Rangeen Duniya

A glimpse of my colored world thru my techno-coloured eyes.


I love…

Crimson flush on my face..while laughing on my friends stupid jokes


Reading those soothing black letters sprawled in my outlook mail, in response to my mail full of grumbling and grievances.


Aloo tikki, streaked with brown laces of tamarind chutney along with the white velvety dahi and shimmering pink pomegranate seeds


Iridescent yellow light of my mobile phone….when it springs back to life on a message from a friend


Deep cerise rasberry lip balm, its fruity smell and taste


Flaunting shocking yellow colour nail paint and pissing people around


The steel grey sky, the umber colored clouds indicating probability of rains and squall


The sky after a good shower…with hues of grey, black,Purple and Cerulean


Public holiday highlighted red in the calendar


Writing my name in the bronze colored sand, and watching it fading away as the azure waves comes splashing


Chocolaty Gems… yellow ,turquoise, red and green


Zooming effortlessly through red-light free roads


Engraving messages on the translucent layer of steam formed on my bathroom mirror


Scribbling illegible drawings in Prussian blue while on a phone call


Watching the fading evening sun in yellow polka dots through the trees

Deepali and Roopali

Yes, I know most of you will have a wry smile on your faces while reading the title of this post. I finally succumb to the peer pressure, and therefore I confess that I am both Deepali and Roopali.

Gasps, gawks, surprise looks.


Lately, I have discovered two sides of me. The good and the bad….the loved and the scorned…..the shameless and the ashamed…the venerated and the despised….
This is a story about two girls…Deepali and Roopali…residing in a single body.


Deepali is sweet, innocent who believes world is a small happy place to live.
Roopali, on the other hand is over-smart, corny, practical….. I like calling her chatur chachi, to put it in plain words she is a heartless b**ch.

Take a look at the battle of thoughts
Deepali: Being is love is beautiful
Roopali: Love is like a smoke mingled with mist…that slowly gathers speed and with the passing time it grows thicker and thicker….obscuring the vision in parts….then your senses….Beware!
Deepali: People around are generally good….its the situation that make/act the way they are
Roopali: You got to be kidding me!!! Homo Sapiens is the most selfish of all the species.
Deepali: I like speaking my mind…whatever it is without giving a single thought.
Roopali: Thinks zillions times before saying anything. Each word is weighed. Every movement is calculated circumspectly.
Deepali : I like to believe most of the men are like Ted Mosby. Outlandishly romantic, smart and intelligent.
Roopali: All men are Barney Stinson. They only look for one thing, the sanctimonious three letter word. They are utterly devoid of morality.
Deepali: I really care about the people around me. Their pleasure, sadness, highs and lows deeply influence me, and their support or appreciation, is subconsciously vital to almost every decision I take.
Roopali: Detachment is the way to happiness. Even lord Krishna, in the third chapter of Gita, the most venerated Hindu book, talks about the virtues of detachment.
Deepali: Be independent. Make something of yourself, of your life.
Roopali: Target a rich guy, with weighty bank account, marry him and live happily ever after with his money…errrr I mean with him.

PS: A Deepali, called by any other name…will kick ur a**