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Remembering PC and Ackamma

I was lucky enough to meet PC Alexander and his wife, Ackamma, at Raj Bhavan. I was an intern then and the then Governor and his wife were to meet kids who were suffering from Cancer. I think it was on the occasion of Children's Day. I remember running from the gate number 1 of Raj Bhavan right down to the State Hall, not even pausing to look at the helicopter whose blades were still whirring. Someone had just landed or someone just took off. I didn't care. I was getting late for the event. When I reached the hall, all the kids and members of Cancer Patients Aids Association were waiting in hushed silence. The Ex-Governor's press secretary and his aides were also there. And, then entered Alexander and his wife. While the gentleman quietly fussed over the children, the lady was effusive with her affection. She went hugging and kissing the kids gathered there. The kids looked a little dazed. On my way back, I paused a bit to look around the Raj Bhavan estate. I wasn'

Love you Bagwati

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"Love you Bagwati" "Dilon me tum apni betabiyan leke chal rahe ho,to zinda ho tum..." My google status mssg is alternating between these two lines since I watched Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara.  I was in a wretched, wound-up kind of state before I saw the movie. And, after watching it...I am smiling all the time and you know about my status mssgs! Watching the movie is like meditation (Sorry Laila for borrowing your expression). I mean, aren't we all tired of rushing around, crackling with energy and being constantly on the move? That's why just being along to glide along with the movie is such a blessing. I could actually feel all my knotted organs unwinding themselves. Uggh...the metaphor isn't very appropriate. But that's what I felt. I laughed, giggled and grinned at the "inane" jokes. I soaked myself in Imran's sheer magical imagery of words. And, of course the beauty of Spain mesmerised me. I wish I had the money and f

My version of Proust questionnaire

a) What is your idea of happiness? Sleeping; Lying on the bed and reading a book with a plate of munchies by the bedside. Summer mornings and evenings, winter mornings too. Flowers in full blooms. Giggling and talking with friends. Writing letters or long mails. Digging into SBDP and ice cream. Watching movies. Looking at old photo albums. Rereading old letters or notes. b) What is your greatest fear? Losing my Dad. Becoming financially dependent on hubby or parents. c) Which historical figure do you most identify with? Ahilya Devi Holkar, who gave the Peshwas a good fight. d) Which living person do you most admire? Aamir Khan, Rajanikant and Sonia Gandhi. Aamir for his astute business sense and “selling” himself so well. Rajanikant for being comfortable in his own skin away from the arc lights. He looks the man he is – in 60s minus his wig. (I don't know his age. I am just guessing). Sonia Gandhi, well, she had everything against her starting from her foreign origins.

Bal Gandharva

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I watched Bal Gandharva this week-end. It's a lovely movie - extravagantly mounted with no expenses spared. Much like the man who strove to appeal to the senses of his audience. Spraying expensive scents/perfume when they walked in to watch this musical plays, giving the ladies a reason to shop for expensive, rich and exquisite sarees, shalus and of course jewels. Who can forget the creative, imaginative and innovative props for Bal Gandharva's plays? And, of course the music. Bal Gandharva alias Narayan Shripad Rajhauns is music. All those who watched the movie knew this. In almost every Marathi household, the elders have to swear by Bal Gandharva. His plays enacted by the younger generation of actors still run housefull. Of course the elders and those who had the pleasure of hearing the original, pooh-pooh the attempt. Therefore, when people like me who have been brought up in such households decide to watch the movie, can't help but be disappointed. We have heard

Blowing my Trumpet!

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Aai....this is for you! I won second prize in Bal Sahitya (senior) category. The contest was held by CEE on behalf of Environment Department, Maharashtra Govt. The title of the story is "My Mother's Garden".

Barish in Headlines

It's the second day of pre-monsoon showers. The dark clouds are gathering, coming closer and closer. Soon, they will start rumbling accompanied by lightning and opening up of skies. For some rains means garma garam bhajji and hot tea laced with ginger. Some see poetry in the pitter-patter of rain drops. A sight to be enjoyed by sitting by the window or getting drenched in rains. I, however, wish to differ. I bring to you 'Barish in Headlines' (for the next three months or till the monsoon lasts) In the first few days of the monsoon, your news will be: On Page 1 (LEAD): xxxxx (fill in the name of the city) lashed by rains. The story will be accompanied by photos of Wet Girls (yes, this was actually the caption given by an intrepid photographer who shot girls caught unawares in the rain), traffic snarls, a sweet kid holding an umbrella over his head and jumping up and down in the puddles, a small crowd taking shelter under a shed covered by blue tarpulin etc etc On Pag

The Complete Beauty

FAT! Ummmmm...BIG....FAT Arun murmured these words critically appraising her figure before the mirror. A few minutes later she plonked on the bed and sighed deeply. Then she looked at the black and white photo on the side table and murmured, “Thank you YOU”. Eighteen-year-old Arunima (or Arun as she preferred to be called) was smart, sassy and always ready to smile. But, alone, before the mirror, she was fragile and vulnerable. “Come on 18-going on-28, move your BIG BUTT and get going,” she told herself, sitting up on the bed. She slowly moved towards closet and pulled out denims and paused. Arun looked longingly at a short tee. “No point...” she reminded and instead pulled out a long Fab India kurta. “Kurta...naaaaaah....kurti. Who cares? I look like a behenji no matter what I wear,” Arun thought out aloud. Her eyes glistened with tears when she remembered Kunal and Anjuli's biting comments. That day she had chosen to wear a short tee which fitted her snugly. She