Yes! The week just flew by! Before I knew it, it was Monday
once again.. WOW.. talk about speed. There was a lot that happened. But, there
are far too many things to jot down.. So here goes (read on if you have the
patience :
It’s time to have the talk with my folks about my
impending future. Never found the right time. Getting everyone in the same room
at home is like the Northern Lights (It does exist, but it's a long wait to watch your breadth being taken away). Even though the curd has curdled, it is yet to be removed from the fridge. But, there is the Strength
and Will in me to stick it out.
It’s my last week at work! Yes! It’s time to move onto
greener pastures.
Work.. Work.. Work.. It amazes me how this bit never
ceases and comes to a full stop. It’s like Murphy ’s Law. Whatever happens, it
happens for a reason. But, for the life of me, I can't decipher from it.
Food! Yes! There was plenty at Food Street. A street very aptly named, of course.
Twists and turns for a "Rally" table fan to beat the heat. Bike ride.. Yey!
Went to Mysore for a day to scout for property. Success! Realized what Traffic-free roads
actually look like.
Drama rama.. Nothing much to say about this except “intestinal
fortitude”! Need to breathe and count till 100. 1..2..3.. *breathe* 4..5..6..
*breathe*..
Lots of clicks and updates on Social networks. Worth sharing, of course! And, why not! ;)
Saturday was a visit to Swenson’s! It’s amazing to watch
grown-ups hue and rant over the humongous pitchers and glasses of ice cream, cream
and cherries.. Not to forget the banana and sauce. Okay! That did not come out
right. But, heh.. there is no pun intended here.
Relaxed Sunday. Bus Ride with The One.. Painted and
polished with my bestie at our favourite hang-out-come-parlour.. KFC crispy
chicken leg and puffs over Man U and Everton match. After much laughs and gasps,
the day came to a good close.
Well a week and weekend well
spent. A bit tired in the mind and body but worth all the efforts! Time to gear
up for the weeks to come.. *hallelujah*
Fine.. its Friday the 13th and here I lie on
my bed, writing this blog. My old and cracking bones can’t seem to find the
right amount of energy to dress and paint the town red (Sheesh.. even the
colour sounds corny at this moment). I can’t seem to swallow the thought of
partying out tonight with the other scary people (They are actually quite scary
in real life.)
I should be doing something productive, like reading an
intelligent book (which I would conveniently forget even before I say the word “intelligent),
write my monologue on how great my life has been till date (again, “intelligent”
comes to mind), or I could start on the jig saw puzzle I see staring at me
through its crisp box. But, as lethargy sets in, I am reminded of the years
past when even the thought of Friday night would get me kicking and screaming “Party”!
The telly went on when I reached home this evening. With nothing
interesting to watch, I switched over to National Geographic to watch an
amazing sight and tale of Kevin Richardson, the Lone Ranger. He was playing
with Lions and Hyenas like a little girl playing with her newly-gifted soft
toys. I had seen an email forward of him a couple of times, but to watch it on
the reel was mind numbing. He is indeed re-defining nature and its various
laws.
Hence, I start questioning the simple facts of Friday the
13th. There are enough blood and gore written about it, not to
forget the zillion movies acted during this one-over-hyped night. The mere
thought of horror fills my imagination with the blood-curdling screams, grotesque
faces and mutilated bodies. Stereotype images are already filtered in my
minds.. (as if the blood and gore didn’t do the trick, already!)
Whatever said and written (or typed), I am still the girl
that loves her thrills. I may watch the movies and serials behind
finger-covering -but-still-peeping eyes, yet with a tingling-and-titillating-filled
heart. I may not watch it the first time around, but give me enough storyline
and plot and I shall scout the papers for the re-run timings. Okay! I admit I won’t
watch it on the big screen, but the small screen would do just fine for this
wannabe, ambitious thrill-seeker.
Well, what am I waiting for.. going to switch on my telly,
preparing my throat and voice for the shrieking and my nails to be bitten off..
Once upon a time, in a modern city called
Bangalore, there lived a stylish (let it slide) girl called Aditi. Not only did
she have a fashion sense, but she had an extensive wardrobe filled with
colourful and sensationalistic clothes.
Among these immense range of items, lived a Black Sweater. Aditi had brought her
at a company discounted price, but that still did not deter her from loving the
Black. She considered the Black to be one of her prized procession.
There was never a time and place, where
the Black did not make its presence felt. Aditi carried and wore her
everywhere. She considered it to be her dependable back-up. The Black looked
after Aditi at every occasion, be it gloomy, windy or rainy. She was a constant
companion in her wardrobe and car seat. Yes, she even brought Black along on
her long drives.
On one such occasion, the Black was in the
back seat of her car, when Aditi was dropping her father off at the bus stop. But,
Aditi failed to see the bag was placed on top of Black and how she got camouflaged
with the seat and bag colour. Needless to say, when Father got off the car,
Black got dragged out of her perch and was thrown onto the ground. Father
stepped on it and ignored her, as he thought it belonged on the road. Aditi
didn’t turn around to check, either. She was too wrapped up in saying her Byes
and watching the passing Traffic.
Alas, there the Black lay in the dirt,
forgotten. Neither could it speak or rant about its impending doom. Being
abandoned was new to the poor being. How could such a fate befall on her? None
picked her up. None reached out and lent a helping shoulder. The Helpless!
By the time, Aditi realized the fate of
her friend, she was too far away. Despite the memory lapse and failed calls, she
knew it was already too late. Her eyes welled up with sadness at not being
there for a friend in need. Nothing could fill the void she felt in her heart
and mind. Hope was a faraway stranger who couldn’t even hear her even if it
glanced her way. But, there was a small bit of chance that Aditi was willing to
take. Try and go down the same street. Fingers and toes, both, were crossed.
The drive to the street was filled with
true contemplation and anticipation. “What if!”.. Traveling through the turn in
the road felt like an eternity. Glaring through the fog of the night light.
Wishing and biting nails, moments passed too soon.
Lo & behold, Aditi saw a dark shape
lying at the spot. Running and skipping through the tarred road, reaching her
hand forward and swooping upon the shape, was spent in complete earnestness.
She grabbed it with all her might. The Black now lay in her hands. She hugged
her friend, with dirt, sand and muck and all!
Things were back to normal. Soaked,
washed, rinsed, folded and fresher.. The Black was back at her No. 1 spot on the podium. Aditi thanked her lucky stars at having found
her friend. She would not leave it to chance and fate, going forward.
They were stuck together at the hip (until
death do them part).
*** The above is based on true events! It did happen, People. Believe you me! There is such
a thing as Good Fortune!
Birds (read: myna and raven) took on a new meaning during
my school days. Fingers were crossed and wishes made. But, we never waited
around enough to see if the wishes did come true. And, even if it did, we would
credit it to the Supreme Being or twisted circumstances. Miss those days of unadulterated
jubilation.
The world looks different.. colours seem vibrant.. noises
outside etiolate..
I have an innate trait. It’s being clean and orderly. No.
I have not described myself to a Nurse! (You wish!) Yes. I have an "OCD". In
layman terms, I like things to be neat and tidy. Yes, I am from the 20th Century. And, yes, I do have a life. It’s my way of life. I
like cleanliness. Period.
Ever since I can remember, it has been drilled into me little mind by
my lovely mother. If you ever saw her eyes roll and her hand reaching for the
nearest object (to hit me with), you would have followed in my footsteps too.
But, aside from these true episodes, I can say that I am grateful today for
those early lessons. How else would my room and desk see the light of day?
There are no clothes or shoes tucked away under my bed or pieces of paper playing
peek-a-boo from the nooks and corner of my desk. I am proud to say that I clean
up after myself. Ah! I can live with the snide remarks now!
There is joy is cleaning up after yourself. Beyond question,
you can hear the melodious music when you flawlessly clear the clutter in the
hotel room (before you check out, of course).
Doors and windows open to you when you leave your relative’s house in apple-pie
order. Not to forget, your mom’s cooking
skills improve every time she enters your spotless room (read: bride or reward,
either way works for the stomach!)
Chaos and filth is omnipresent. Would
it not take you less than 5 minutes to scrub away the muddle? Fine, it
could take longer.. But, you have to see the pot of gold at the end of the
rainbow. (That is not a myth. I may be using the wrong example here, but you
get the drift.) Your cupboard, your room, your house, your office, your world,
would be a better place. Smiles all around. You need to be there to know the actuality.
Being organized has its perks, too. It does free your mind
and body (now, who needs yoga.) Life would be less complicated, come to think
of it. Wouldn’t you agree when I say, you would spend less time trying to find
the one thing you would have spent eons looking for? You can now dedicate the
newly discovered time to find a new hobby. WOW! That would get anyone off their
backside and run to the broom closet. Free mind and soul could lead to more earnest
wanderings. Mysterious could be unlocked
with a complete brain.
It’s time to end on a “clean” note! The paradox
being “lock stock and barrel”, here!
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