hopscotch

It's about to rain...I can feel it even though I am sitting in a glass cage insulated from the outside world. I can feel the distinct nip in the climate; I can hear the thundering; I turn back to see the skies darkening. Will it drizzle? Or will it pour? I hope for the latter. There's nothing like getting drenched to the skin. And, hoping to cross the danger zone safely without stepping on the crabs clambering out of their homes under the boulders. Danger zone! That was the name my sister (and I agreed) had thought for the kaccha rasta which was lined by boulders conveniently used as stepping stones during the rains. The bad thing was that the boulders wobbled when we gingerly tried to walk over them and not to mention the crabs and frogs and tadpoles and snakes. I remember I used to mumble prayers to someone sitting up there while I hopped across the boulders; sometimes the wrong judgment leading me to land into the slush. Once on the other side I bravely continued my jo

These posts were published before. Hope to write something new... -- My looks and the way I dressed was a cause of concern to everybody else, except me. “What's the big deal?” deal was my constant refrain when first my mother and then my friends in hostel, frowned at my mismatched salwar kameez or down-at-heel chappals. “You know what...you look like a proper jhalli . Just look at your hair, all frizzled. No one will believe that you have run a comb through your hair today. And, listen this dupatta doesn't go with the maroon kameez. By the way, have you ironed the salwar kameez before wearing it?”, Anima, my room-mate, went on and on without even pausing to check if I was taking it in. I was not. Why would I, especially when it's an everyday ritual – you know something like being forced to drink milk and then quickly emptying the rest of it in your sister's glass once your mom's back is turned. And your mom being very much aware of it... Anima knew that I list

I tried to catch the evening show of The Japanese Wife. Couldn't get the tickets though. I think I need to attune myself to the changing circumstances. Until the year before last, I could ( or any average joe, jui) easily get into the theatre, buy a packet of popcorn and settle down to watch the movie. Not any longer. Today the multiplex security guards shooed me to the neighbouring mall's parking lot. There was a queue of two-wheelers and cars before and after me. First, they checked my dikki, in which they found a hand bag, desperately in need of repairs. He asked a lady security officer to go through the contents. Meanwhile, another security guard noted down the number of my Activa. Another one asked me to remove my scarf. In between, they waved away an empty auto standing before the mall. (Images of the auto being blown up and all of us being hurt or killed flashed before my eyes). Then I was allowed to go down to the parking lot. Mid way I was stopped again – had to pay

A friend out of the blue said that I was screwing up her life. A general remark on her appearance invited the 'screwing up' comment. I was hurt. I didn't particularly mean to be insensitive when I knew what she was going through. Another friend doesn't get the hint - that I have a different priorities now. It's not as if I don't want to be in touch or wish to avoid him. Sometimes I wonder, why do I have to be the 'giver' in any relationship. There are times when I wish to be left alone, but no, there are friends who always wish to take my time. I remember when my mother was ill (I sorta knew that she wouldn't be with me for long, but was running around checking with the docs, hospitals and sanatoriums so that she could recover...) I had decided that I am going to focus on her, be with her that she needs me. But, no, I had to deal with friends who wanted to know why I was in hiding, why I didn't take calls, why I couldn't meet them... May

Having moved recently into one of the 'elite' areas of the city, I fell in love with most of the houses. ( I simply love houses/homes/buildings. Don't mistake, I am no authority on architecture) My brisk morning walk is often interrupted when I slow down to just gaze at the bungalows – some are compact ones, some are two-storeyed/three-storeyed. I love those – which are old and have a bit of history attached to them. I spend time reading the ugly looking blue-coloured PMC's heritage site nameplates. Bits of information like – Doyen of Indian classical music, Vasantrao Deshpande spent the last few years of his life here (Building's name is Basant) gives me goosebumps. I have often wondered about people living in the houses I have liked. What's their day like? Does it mean anything to them – a vocalist of repute had once stayed in their apartment or a reputed Marathi historian stayed in the house they are now living in? Or is it just a name for them? I really

There have been few times that I felt really troubled by other people's attitude towards me. This latest incident however takes the cake. The two fat suckers just stood up and yelled and yelled - I wonder how they managed to pitch their voice on that 'even' tempo. The performance lasted for some 10 minutes. I just didn't look at them. But, I know that they spouted lava of venom and all the malice they could rake up. Not against me. I mean, they didn't take my name. But made sure that I heard every word that was being yelled/hurled like a missile at me. The first time they put up the act, I had a tough time stopping myself from giggling. I wish I had. That would have taken the wind out of their sails. The second act deserved a punch. Perhaps that would have taken the air out of those puffed up balloons. But I didn't. Not for the lack of courage. I just couldn't stoop so low like standing in my cubicles and yelling names. No, not names. They didn't tak

I am bored...I am bored..I am bored...I am bored...I am bored...I am bored...I am bored... Writing it over and over again doesn't make me feel less bored. So, what should I do to feel better? to feel happy? to feel good and nice and float on cloud nine? Should I rant or rave? Should I laugh like insane? Or should I stretch those lip muscles in a grimace? Hmmmm...tried and tested I am not feeling better. Why not write down those things that make me feel better? What will make me feel better? 1) Sizzling brownie with hot chocolate sauce 2) Garma-garam pohe with ketchup 3) A good book 4) A good movie 5) A bed to sleep and no one to disturb 6) Gulmohar tree 7) A jog around the park 8) A bench where I can sit and watch the world go by 9) No work to be done and no pressing deadlines to be met 10) The fragrance of ratrani and mogra at night 11) The slight nip in the air 12) The first rain and the smell/aroma/fragrance of the mud 13) The deep blue sea 14) Drive down t