hopscotch

Well, this post follows a reverse procedure. Instead of being posted here first and then being uploaded either on FB or twitter, this was first written as my status/wall post on FB and as an afterthought is being uploaded here. Afterthought because what prompted me to write were the several smileys and cute li'l posters of two friends wishing "Happy Friendship Day." To be frank, I thought they were nauseating bit; cute, sugary mssgs put me off. Really. That explains my forever frowning face. Bu then I remembered the mssg that a friend had texted me (got only two friendship day mssgs) yesterday. I was surprised because he wasn't a "believer" in Friendship Day. I wondered if he had become a "convert" and asked him. His reply was that he got a mssg from someone and he fwded me because I used to be quite "senti" about this day when we were in college and for him Friendship Day meant me. I cringed on reading that. Yes, I was quite "sen

Alright..I admit the title of the post is a bit presumptuous. But, how else should I describe that fleeting moment when I witnessed 'The Phenomenon?" Two years ago I was at the inauguration of Pune International Film Festival. While all other celebrities trooped in, the programme wouldn't begin. Rajesh Khanna was yet to come. I was silently chaffing and cursing when a flurry of movement near the entry door caught my attention. Rajesh Khanna walked in, attired in white kurta-pyjama and a shawl draped around his shoulders. Before sitting, he did "Namaste" to the crowd and smiled. The thunderous applause which greeted him gave me goosebumps and his smile made my heart somersault. That one moment told me why my mother and all the assorted aunties her age went gaga over him. I had seen his movies, sure. Several times. I loved the songs he lip synced to. But, I never could imagine that the girls got married to his photograph, or his car was covered with lipstick

...Because I was stunned when a friend's call woke me up at mid-night. I mumbled into the mouthpiece and didn't know when it fell besides my pillow. (A few years earlier, I would have settled at the window sill and talked and laughed till the wee hours of morning.) ...Because I wasn't unable to concentrate thanks to the music blaring from the radio (A few years earlier, I slept with my walkman switched on, the volume turned at “high”) ...Because I kept the 'highly readable book' aside and yawned a few times. I turned over and went off to sleep. (A few years earlier, I would have adjusted my pillow a bit and continued with the reading. I would have kept the book down only after reading it from cover to cover.) …Because I dismissed the idea of ordering pizzas and ice cream and preferred a second helping of aamti-bhat . (A few years earlier, I practically lived on pizzas and double scoops of ice cream) ...Because I can now suffer fools gladly. (A f

I just came across one of those feel-good fwds - life and time in good old 80s. The Doordarshan logo, the complan ad, serials like He Man and the rest. It was quite a nostalgia trip - recalling dialogues like, "I have the Power" from He Man and taglines, "I am a Complan boy (innocent, wide-eyed Shahid Kapoor)", "I am a Complan girl (Ayesha Takia)" and Vikram-Betal too! I can still laugh at my sister's wisecrack after Betal's statement - Vikram, main tere bas me nahin aaunga . She used to say, "Bus mein nahi to rickshaw me aaja." The TV in 80s and early 90s was something to die for. I remember the serial - Neev, the boys (school students, I mean ) in the serial - Kapoor and Chatterjee. Then, there was Kacchi Dhoop. I quite enjoyed the serial and remembered grabbing Little Women, because the serial was based on this book. I also read Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after watching Kashish. Ditto for Tamas. I was too young to unders

The 15 years of our schooling was perhaps devoted more in cultivating our olfactory senses. I guess that's the reason why when we met each other, we rushed on with our “Hi! Hellos!” to relish the food packed in the tiffin boxes. Not literally! Meeting Pari triggered the memories of her mother's kabuli chana sabji – black chana garnished with finely chopped onion and coriander leaves. Seventeen years later they smelt, tasted just the same. Hugging Balambika/Priya, now Priya Seshadri, reminded us of the mouth-watering dosas and the gun-powder chutney, which we had labelled as “cockroach chutney.” I can't remember why we labelled it so. The recall of the name only succeeded in whetting our appetite. Ruby's Ammi's biryani is remembered every Eid. Ammi, said Ruby, will now be unable to cook biryani for so many of us, but she (Ruby) is willing to feed us with her preparation. We wonder if it's going to taste as good as Ammi's biryani which we gobbled with

Just read the news that Doordarshan will soon be airing the second part of Ek Tha Rusty – dramatised stories based on Ruskin Bond's life. I had a good time in the 90s watching the series with my mother. I continue to be a big fan of Ruskin Bond and his work. The old world charm, quirky aunts, and loving grandparents, plus a house and large garden full of animals, and yes, not to forget the possibility of ghosts lurking in some corner of Rusty's house ensured that I was glued to DD Metro every Saturday evening between 5.30-6.30 pm. This time, of course, the news says that they will be capturing Rusty when he's 33 and has garnered reputation as a writer. And, his stories full of romance, thriller, adventure will be adapted for the small screen. Well, Rusty has grown up! So have I! It will be fun to meet Rusty in his 30s!

And I would like to sleep in it! ---- I was yawning, or trying to cover my wide open mouth with the back of my palm, when I read this premise of Makarand Deshpande's new play. I yawned some more (this time without covering my mouth) and thought, “interesting”. The protagonists are two masseurs who sleep for others, their clients. The girls have their own reasons for sleeping for others. One hopes to learn this skill so that she can sleep for her insomniac father, while the other girl hopes that her bed-ridden sister can sleep uninterrupted for few hours. The only catch is that the masseurs who learn about their client's dreams, will keep them a secret. I hope to catch this play whenever it's staged in Pune because I love sleeping and dreaming. I have some very vivid dreams and I am able to recollect them when I get up in the mornings. I can also sleep at the drop of the hat. In fact there was a time when I was in school and college when I used to study by lying