One gem gone missing..

On 2nd December 2011, LHR,  terminal 4 , three friends stood in despair, each one battling their tears, and never wanting to say goodbye..never wanting to let go this phase.. Lives were about to change. And that is exactly what happened. 
And i was confident that that evening wasn't going to a final goodbye. I knew this wasn't the end.
I always thought,there was more to come.. more to achieve ... more to love.. more to learn..  more to live for..  I didn't know this was going to be it. The bond, so close to my heart, that I was so sure of has proven me wrong..  A reason unknown. A stumble into reality. When they said, it will never be the same... now i knoe what that meant.
We have many more places to visit, ohh so many songs to sing.. so many ideas to share.. so many fights to not care.. you still have a point to prove, find videos in which a snake eats a poisonous frog and the poison kills the snake and after a struggle a warrior emerges out of the snakes mouth..
A story that i'd never believed. a video that you could never find on youtube. where are you my friend ?   
" just how Akbar has nine gems in his crown, and each one symbolizes an important person, you are one of them... now that i have found you, i shall never lose you "

Wherever you are... I pray that you still have 'internal happiness', good health, faith in goodness, a calm mind, a loving heart, a shoulder to cry on, a caring hand to hold, someone to share stories untold..  what ever you do.. I pray for you.. for your dreams to come true..

Your 'past'  is waiting for you !

Ghosts of Host

This dates back to my university days in the UK.  One fine evening, some of us friends were discussing the HOST program that the uni offers us 'international' students to experience a weekend under the hospitality of the British. [there aint none but lets not jump the gun]. I thought to myself, a weekend with a strange old couple would be weird. Thats when my dearest of dearest Eliza said "lets go together".
4 - 5 of my friends had been through this program and visited isolated pockets of Great Britan. They all had stories to tell which quite honestly depicted all sorts of emotions.. bitter sweet awkward and some were very cordial. 

So thats when Eliza and I registered ourselves to spend a weekend away with a family who would host us. 
Our preferences were not easy, now an excessive beef sausage 'lukumade' eater, eliza was then a strict vegan. i cannot tell you how many evenings we had pumpernickel with tahini for lunch breakfast and dinner. i was almost a vegan ! [Pumpernickel is a pumpkin seed and other weird seeds bread with contains no dairy no sugar no yeast no oil.. YUMM.. at first you feel a bomb just exploded in your mouth but then u get used to it]

Weeks after registering we got a call. A couple Laurie & Sandra invited us to Christchurch, few miles away from bournemouth.  I managed to book some cheap train tickets to get there. Bags were packed.
   
(clear throat)

let me come to the point...

we ditched the couple !!!!!!!!!

when we first got to bournemouth, the lady, sandra came to pick us up.. Made us both sit on the back seat with seat belts on. Her shivering hands had not enough strength as she struggled to pull the seat belt close to the clasp.

In my head ,"this is not weird... this is not weird... this is not weird" is playing on repeat.  She drove us to her home.. Moments after sitting into the car she listed all deficiencies and illnesses she possesses.  With all that excess or deficient in her body she still makes an effort to seatbelt us.. quite a fighter i must say.

Cigarettes killed my sister 

She told us about how her children live 2 mins away from her and never bother to visit.. and how her lesbian daughter ignores her blah blah 
Me "This is not weird.. this is not weird.. This lady is homophobic.. this lady is homophobic"

well christchurch is a beautiful village in the suburbs of bournemouth. i have always wanted to visit bournemouth

especially after seeing saiko's video n the balloon ride... i got tad bit disappointed after actually seeing the "hot air balloon" i thought it would travel around.. but it was this big balloon wit thousand cables attached ... anyways.. 

let me tell u guys the story as it happened.

so we reached Christchurch... the man Laurie wasnt there..We learnt later that he went practicing for his trombone performance. So the lady took us home.. at first it was all very nice..the house was cosy enough.. the lady seemed alright.. it was a lil weird to stay in someone else's house.. 

when eliza removed her cigarette manufacturing tools, sandra jumped of her seat and said "my sister died of smoking" and then the next 17 min we heard the sister's life story... the couple is 67.. they look much older though..  everything was borderline ok..

 the man walked in later that evening.. we sat down for dinner.. the portions were tiny.. when i say tiny.. i mean tiny...  all through the evening sandra went on and on about how she buys cheap mushrooms, onions and tomatoes close to expiry date to save money.. *bon appetite*

there was one small bowl of pasta for the four of us !    A bowl small enough to pass for a single serving. The uni canteen serves bigger portions !

i was trying to fit in the scenario... eliza just looked dazed..  this was the place where nobody would listen to her... A place where  she could  not jump and scream or even break in to a sirtaki dance.. things weren't going her way.. Whenever she would  step out to smoke a cigarette, the dead sister's story would commence... she felt trapped !  She has a presentation in austria the following week for she had prepare and  she was carrying her laptop to work on it atleast a little bit ;-)      so eliza asked laurie.. "do u have internet ?" just this simple question and waiting for a simple yes or no. 

that man asked her which year was she born... eliza said 1986 why ? laurie.. went on and on about how he owned a computer even before eliza was born.. dunno why he took it as an offense..  thats how we wasted another 23 odd mins of our lives.. 

eliza would ask something and the lady would reply smething totally out of topic.. she asked abt museums in bournemouth.. sandra explained us the musical historyof bournemouth..  Sandra reminded us of the old lady  from the movie requiem for a dream !!  we were fast approaching depression.. i dont know how  my friends managed by themselves... ! We sat in the living room after dinner. Sandra sat on a armchair to the right talking to us looking upwards in the opposite direction..  

In such situations Eliza need a smoke.. And the lady would keep repeating "Cigarettes killed my sister.. so it shall kill you too"

The old man was rude.  He was so proud of the english culture and would ask us about how life was in our respective "under developed" countries.. this went on until the evening... and then they put us to bed at 9.00 pm !  lights switched off. its bed time. Me"  

This is bloddy weird.. this is bloody weird... this is bloody weird !!1"

So the both of us,in our sleeping bags,  lay down in bed at 9 pm with growling stomachs..And because english houses have walls thinner than paper.. we couldnt even talk properly we were silently murmuring things..and trying to lip read wat the other person is saying.

I couldn't sleep the night , as Eliza had told me the old man was about to enter the room while she was changing clothes.. And that he knew she was going in to change. WTF.  She labelled him a pervert and that just kept coming back to me. 

The last nail on the coffin..

next morning was sooo boring..    eliza couldnt stand them a minute.. i was ok really. not the happiest bt i couldnt manage another 24 hours. Also this was the last weekend  in uk.. eliza and i were to leave for home on the following week.. and be back only be back for graduation. So this wasnt the ideal time we imagined to spend that too on beautiful sunny days in bournemouth... !!!!! *frustrating*

Morning breakfast, the same old tiny bowl was presented. this time with some cereals. And we headed to a charity event where laurie was playing the trombone.  in a brass band.. *facepalm*

*DISCOMFORT  DETECTED*

The couple is a part of a program called University of the third age. Where, retired people come together sing , play music ,  sew, knit , paint and do all sorts of activities that makes them feel pretty cool.  

Eliza and I had thought of telling the couple after breakfast that 'this isn't working for us.. you have been lovely..  lets part ways.. Ciao Ciao'    But that didn't quite happen. Neither of us knew how to bring this up.  So through the breakfast , car ride to  trombone playing concert or whatever, and through the performance eliza and i kept nudging each other to speak up first. 

The day was beautiful.. we walked to the beach. Lil kids running around, parents and children with tiny fishing rods sitting on small boats, birds chirping and us and the weird couple saying  "Cigarettes killed my sister.. so it shall kill you too"  .. 

sir, can have a coffee ? "NO."

Eliza suggested for a coffee in some beautiful beach side cafe.. the man said no no lets walk and head home..   ELIZA WAS DENIED HER COFFEE...Nobody denies her of her coffee.. she was fuming.. could have murdered him easily ..

eliza and i had a plan to ditch them... but now it was time to execute it.. 

so we faked some phonecalls.. we said we have a friend... she has fever we got to go.. The couple didn't listen and said, by the time you go back to home she would be better and probably hospitalized. 

Thats when i faked a phone call and hung up .. looked straight into the old man's eyes and said "SARAH is  now is spitting BLOOD... We have to go.. " to make this believable we gave our oscar winning performances..  this went on  for 5 hours..

But it worked !

we planned we'll take a train from christchurch to bournemouth ... find a hostel.. enjoy life.. and go back the next day as scheduled.

despite all our efforts... they dropped us to bournemouth train station.. and waited till we bloody board the train..now bournemouth station is small tiny room.. where u can see through the platforms even while standing outside the station. even after goodbyes..and thank yous.. they stood there to watch us board the bloody train..  

the man even insisted he would talk to the train office guys to change our tickets.. urghhhhhhh

sticky situation..!  so we bought tickets to the next station.. from the ticket machines.. and acted as though we boarded the train..

later we hid for 15 mins behind the platform wall waiting for the car to leave.  when they left.. 

We were freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee !

We walked on the streets of Bournmeouth.. It was getting dark.. We had no idea where to go.. what to do.. we just felt FREE..  We sat in a taxi , asked him to take us to a hostel. A few shady looking hostels crawl later, we settled into a BnB.

Stormed into mexican restaurant..  had full size meals ..  The waiter wondered why we ordered 4 full mains. 

Later , went to a club where we danced with some men dressed like the toy story crew.. i wonder why.. walked all around bournemouth..   sat on some twister rides on the beach at midnight, ... WE AINT SLEEPING AT 9 PM BITCHES !

eliza happily rolled ciggarettes whenver she wanted.. she could sing and dance now.. she could scream and smoke now... sat on the balloon ride.. had coffees on the beach... got broke.. We barely had some change left to get us to the train station.

had a blast..    so this how we cheated the hosts.. 

love,

one of the worst candidate for host

the other one is rolling cigarettes in Greece.

Heading to the Jungle GODS..

I am all set to  head to the jungles of south... some things are planned... some are not.. This seems ideal.. 4 days away from work, emails, sales figures & taxes  - is going to pure NIRVANA..

I cannot wait to get there..  

Xronia Polla Eliza

Since past three years, May 16th is an important day. Ask my why ? [ since i hear a faint 'why' ] I shall tell you why.. Because its my dearest dearest's  Happy Birthday today. I met her in 2009, on the first day i started my university in UK. We met in the hallway. Two girls from two different worlds went for a walk in a quiet dark city and eventually found out how similar they are !!

Eliza & Me

You are amazing !!!! and  I love you..

Happy Birthday..

Aaj toh bahut crazy hogaya.. !

"All full , madam", said the burly man behind the low lit counter in a heavy southindian accent.


"what ? not even one room.. all beach shack owners asked us to check Ganesh Cafe. We had high hopes. Please. Single room will also do." I said noticing vibrant pictures of Hindu Gods on the wall and below them tables full of dreadlocks tanned foreigners singing, laughing, drinking and smoking.


"No room, today Saturday.. AAAL FULL(a). Try some other place"


"Please, one room.. where will three girls sleep ?", I said. Referring to 'Damsel in distress' situation works most of the time in India. Indian men like all other men love a good ego boost of helping a woman when she is needy (In most parts of Bihar, she will be molested). However, this holds true for a few people now, and that number is too rapidly diminishing but always worth a try.  He says no and walks away.This time its a firm NO. Why I kept pushing is because, shack owners hold vacant rooms for foreigners as they can charge them more money. I understand that. Everyone works to make more and more money.  They cannot charge us 300% more, we are locals we will verbally bash them.  Hence we are roomlesss mainly because we are brown. Talk abt Racism !
Three girls walk out of Ganesh Cafe disappointed.The feeling wasn't new to us. Some of the shack owners nodded their heads seeing us at a distance. We didn't even have to communicate. Now I'm starting to get a little worried. I search my rucksack for a sip of water. A five hour train journey + 40 mins in a mini van crammed with people double its capacity + a rickshaw ride up the hill + walk on the beach with bags in search of a room in atleast 8 shacks has taken its toll.  Beaches of Gokarna, Karnataka, unfortunately had no place for us to rest for the night.


Seven years back my chaddi buddy shifted to another state to pursue a career in Medicine, I had plans to visit her ever since. A plan waiting on my to do list for years never really materialised until last week.  A part of me thinks of the 2012 end to the world and is slowly but surely scratching of items of my long bucket list. Either way, I am going to benefit from it, my pockets.. not so much.
This winter when I visited Bombay, I had decided, I am visiting her (Bappi Da) in Mangalore. Hence a three night trip was planned. I got to Mangalore after a 6 hour wait at the airport. My 9 am flight got cancelled (they hate me) and the next one was at 1 pm, which got delayed by an hour..LUCKY ME.. One of those days when you buy a novel and finish it too.

Wannabe Doctor

I spent first 24 hours in her city, exploring a Doctor's life, watching her drive like a maniac *proud*, learnt hospital intern gossip, giggled at dental mentals, drank Nandini Lassi and other local delights, witnessed a man being stitched in the Casualty Ward after a RTA (Road traffic Accident) as blood oozed out of his wounds, pleaded a cinema manager to let us watch a south indian film that had started an hour ago (permission denied),battled lizards, and walked in Hospital premises confidently pretending to be a Doctor. Also learnt that she is the gang leader of her Hostel and everybody pays respect to her while passing her room each time. Gang-leader, purely due to her kindness, willingness to help, and her impeccable comic timing. Little do the girls know that, BAppi books train tickets, as its her favourite pastime. If there is one thing, besides Sorority life she LOVES, it has to be the drama and tension of being wait listed on Indian Rail website. Indian Rails are not like any other. One has to be on it, to believe it.  

sail away..

Thereafter, Bappi Da had planned a trip to Gokarna, 380 Kms away from Managlore, train tickets were booked.. return wasn't.. and no accommodation. Being a regular at impulsive trips, my dear friend assured me that we will find a place to stay without any effort. WRONG !!


Walking on the beach barefoot, sweaty, tired, in search of a room at night time would not be regarded as without any effort.  I looked ahead, only two more beach shacks to go.  If not those, we had two options
a) hire a rickshaw and go 3 kms into the city to find a place
b) hold on to our bags and sleep on the beach


Option A was out of the question, we didn't travel all this way to stay in a place where we couldn't hear the waves hit the shore! Then Option B it is !

 Palace de Gokarn

We walked in to the next place, it didn't even have a board.There was power cut and the place was dimly lit with candles one on each table. A young girl walked out, serving food to her guests. We asked for a room, At first she said no. then went in to ask her parents. The three were running helter-skelter to complete orders. Each member of the family spoke to us for not less then 3 seconds, they would run back to the kitchen and wander around like headless chickens.. The Tandoor Grill had pieces of marinated chicken.. and i was getting hungry.  They hadn't said a flat NO to our faces, well maybe because we couldn't see their faces in the dark and 3 seconds and swooosh the person is gone. If not this one, there one just one place remaining. I sent the other two to check for any vacant rooms in the other shack remaining. I stood there like a rock, not wanting to budge as i had seen a glint of hope. The father stood at the grill outside the shack. I started pleading him to give us a place to stay. There was a point when i was down on my knees with my hands joined on eye level to the tandoor grill. Black bits of the grilled meat flew everywhere around me. This was a serious moment hence we couldn't capture it on our cameras. However, we have a mental picture engraved in our minds.  He said that the place is full. We could sleep on the floor in the restaurant area  with four others who had decided to stay there (yay). All that he would provide us is a straw mat to sleep on. A lot of other shack owners had offered us a mat to sleep on the floor, however this one felt safer as it was family run.  We agreed. After a little of coaxing, the young girl (the most co-operative) told us to wait. And a few minutes later escorted us to a room. We had struck gold. Prison cells in most countries would be better decorated ! It had a cement concrete bed and a 2 inch think mattress covered in a faded old bed sheet, rusted fan and no power supply. But it felt like, it was a Palace. It cost us Rs 300 for the night, i.e about GBP 3.00 for the three of us ! WOWZA..  Rooms like these make great stories. We chucked our stuff in the room and ran to the beach. Most of the night was spent eating and lying under the stars *priceless*. A group of foreigners lit a bonfire and one of them played the guitar as we stared at the stars..

Kudle Beach

Gokarna is regarded as poor man's Goa.. I must say, the rich are missing out on something spectacular. This place boasts virgin beaches, picturesque locales and beach shacks/huts that are more like home stays managed by one or two people. The facilities are basic. By saying that I'm being modest.  However the place is breath taking. Especially if you have friends that make you love life more, then you would never want to be back.  

Mint Tea Magic

The shore has a cafe after every few yards. Each one is decorated with Indian handicrafts. These cafes serve more of continental food than Indian treats. Most of the places in Goa may not have many of these treats. The food is great in most places. A 20 min trek takes you to Kudle beach. There is no other way to get to the beach ! How lovely..

OM Beach

We had initially planned to take the 4pm train back to Mangalore the next day. Travelling ticket less was one of my greatest motivations to leave this place.  Also i had a flight to board the next morning back to Bombay. I convinced Bappi's friend to allow us to extend Gokarn departure time to later than 4pm. I was wanting to see the sunset. She agreed. We sat in our resident cafe , sipping on mint tea watch the sun leave us.


Our journey back to Mangalore was an experience in itself. I could write a new blog entry on it. However i have written enough... So i would cut the description short. We got to Kumta station at 11pm to board a train arriving at 12.15am. 

Midnight Dance

An hour at Kumta railway station was spooky. 
We decied to head to the waiting room.As we walk in there is no place, we walk in, some of them wake and offer us some seats.. Trying to me as quiet as we can, we think about our options as we have none left. The train is running late and we got no tickets. We call our 2 am friends to book our seats on the internet. When i look around in the room, now almost everybody is awake, seems like our "being quiet" wasn't quiet enough..  While in that thought, i see a lizard scrawling on the ceiling right above my head and i SCREAM..... and run out the room. Now everyone is awake.. I did not enter the waiting room, my friends got my bags and we walked to the platform.
There were not many people and the ones around were all sound asleep. People would occasionally wake up to attend to nature's call (not a pretty site). It was dark and quiet. We were exhausted to the bone, however this didn't stop us from being a pain in the ass to others present. We clicked a gazzilion pics with flash on.. and giggled when people woke up due to our banter. (thats right... we r going to rot in hell), when that was done, we didn't miss out on james bond impersonation, ram-leela and some yoga postures..ALL FOR THE CAMERA..   An hour later, we learn our train has been delayed by 2 hours.. Grr. BAd karma i guess. So we waited until 2.15 am to finally squeeze ourselves in to the train. There was no seat for us. Were we going to accept that and stand for 5 hours ? NO way.. We three hopped on to the wooden luggage rack above the seats. The rack under my bum was broken, Out of the four planks, it had just two. So if i lose my balance i would be landing into the annoying lady's lap. The family in our train booth were so annoying. I would slap them all. I spent my journey giggling at them and lost of eyes rolling. and spent our journey making more and more memorable moments..


This trip couldn't have got any better... I swear by every inch i gained on my waist due to excessive intake of aloo parathas.. 

U r Special...

what matters the most ? Money, Job, Love ????  Well , my answer varies from time to time. The important point is that every point , there is that one thing that matter to you. And when you aspire , you only think about that one thing.. I live for moments. I am back from one such moment. And , this post is dedicated to her.. She is my chaddi buddy.. stood like a rock through thick and thin. Today she catches a midnight train to Bombay to spend New years and will be back to her uni tomo. A trip for 24 hours ! Now , no heaps of money, flashy cars, or gold biscuits can match , how happy and content I feel , at this moment. Some adorable friends arranged to meet at a shopping mall. I meet them.. and hop on the escalator leading to the food court.. And there she stood... like an angel from the sky, who has come down to give me hope and happiness for the coming year.  I do the obvious.. scream on top my lungs, hug her tight like i would never let go, making a terrible attempt to fight my my tears.  I cannot explain , the life that this moment has put into me..  There are people you love and love you back unconditionally. But people who show their love  at the time when it is needed the most is precious. I realise, I live for such moments... and i could die such people.  I have had very little luck this year, and was almost crumbling down to issues faced... Girl, you lifted me up.  It is because of you, i am excited for the next 24 hours.. every minute will be cherished. While i see u laugh, i will capture those moments in my heart and keep them with me to get through the troubling times i may have to face in 2012..  I love you so much.. Thank you for being you...

"meri zindagi savari, mujhko gale lagaake,, baitha diya falak pe,, mujhe khaak se uthaa ke..

   yaara teri yaari ko... maine khuda maana.... yaad karegi  duniyaaa... tera mera afsaana..."

leavin on a jet plane..

 Its December already ! I barely got accustomed to write 2011 everywhere and now its time to move to 2012.  Next year this time we'd be praying for the world not to end.. but the media will fry our brains enough to feel suicidal.  Well, I haven't blogged for days now. I duly apologise to you (cut the crap.. get to the point woman !)

Ever wondered , as we move on.. what do we take in from people around us ? I have a handful of my people in life. These are people who I treasure dearly and will do anything for their happiness. Circumstances change , locations change , hair colour changes, size of our waist changes but we remain the same... A dear friend of mine, my brother, my shadow (literally) left UK to settle abroad. When distance comes in between dear ones,  a part of missing them involves the analysis of how you notice that you are doing/ saying/ thinking the way that loved one did.. 

It is now that I totally understand, what Elizabeth Gilbert's couple friend meant , when they said '' its strange that when you have been for a while with someone , you start to resemble them '' Then i didn't get that one... but now TRUE STORY 

I consider myself to be borderline sane, someone who does not get attached to people or inanimate objects that easily, takes time to trust others and confides in only 1 - 2 people. (you know who you are *wink*). This is what I believe and have lived my entire life so far thinking that nothing in this world is indispensable. Change is the only constant of our lives.And that Change is good, great sometimes. If one wants something and works towards it.. then  will achieve it.. Talking about change, with the world coming closer , people are easily moving away farther.. We think about alternate jobs, shift in our careers a lot frequently and even relocate ourselves to juicy opportunities.. Spouses bear the brunt the most with divorce being a common word used in many households today. We program our fickle minds to love and leave easily. With zero tolerance levels, we often sport  "no biggie" attitude.

On Sunday night, I came home sleep deprived and tired... dreading the coming week and red ink of my pending bills . I enter my room and see the guitar. Despite several attempts , shamefully, I do not know how to play it..Thinking why i bought it ? well i didn't. The owner left it for me and moved away abroad. He did teach me two chords that make broken pieces of one of my favourite songs days before he left.. that i can play with great effort. So i walk in to the room , on a cold December night, look at the guitar.. and smile.. Must be lonely (what ??? what did i just think ... ) i bring it to the living room. and strum and hum the broken verses of the only song i can ever attempt to play.. like all other times, I didn't play it for me.. i played for the guitar.. (am i going insane).. being the next of kin, i got it.. and how could i not do justice to this beautiful thing .. And this is a trait of my guitar owning friend that i would often mock.. I 'd repeatedly poke his habit of developing emotional attachment to objects of importance.

The guitar sat there for 2 days since my friend left  :'(  nobody looked at it.. nobody touched it.. well somebody had to.. *next of kin enters*   when did i change ? emotional attachment to inanimate objects.. it wasn't me (calling out shaggy)  here i am... attempting to fulfil the purpose of the guitar by playing it.. if I have this attitude, I might BE making full use of all my inanimate objects at home.. or am I just getting all psyched with things changing arnd me? who cares.. .. a few years later, I shall proclaim, I am self taught guitarist.. who will know that the guitar taught me.. !

http://yourlisten.com/channel/content/109945/snowflake

this made me so so happy.. Now i have one more thing to thank my guitar friend for..

I am getting back to strumming now.. Ciao Ciao..

The day after the button post

Apparently my blog post was so powerful, that it got a friend of mine come over this evening and fix it for me.. Not only that, i learnt how to sew a button too !!!  It turns out to be no rocket science.. I cannot tell you how much i love my "FIX IT" friends..  Now i have a perfectly well fitting jacket that will keep me warm as i walk on the streets of London.. but i'll sure miss you Mom..