In Search Of The Elusive Rupee

All my life, my one teeny, tiny little flaw has been the fact that I never ever have enough money. Whether it was from my pocket money to my salary, as my income grew, so did my expenses...and somehow my expenses always overshot my income. But being the resilient and resourceful... and spoilt person that I am, that never actually stood in the way of me having a damn good time.

I used to run to Daddy, and when I started getting too old to credibly get away with that, I would run to my boy friend.. when we broke up, I would run to my friend...
Now the boyfriend's gone, the friend has gone and my expenses are STILL the same!!
This is something that is truly miraculous about me... I am the kind of person who will live like the world is ending tomorrow for the first half of the month, start scrimping on how I live for the second half and somehow still think it is acceptable to go out and blow up my last 300 bucks on the last ten days with no idea how I will manage if by some unforeseen circumstances I need money.

Now I'm in Bombay and I have no money in the account, my phone connection has been cut, I haven't bought any Christmas presents, I have to pay off my flight tickets, my credit on a pair of shoes, and pay for my New Year plans.... and I'm pretty optimistic...:)...

You see, I'm a strange combination of independence and dependence.... I now consider myself too independent to take money from my parents (other than maybe an agreed amount etc), but dependent enough to take money from my friends... Anything can be justified if you try hard enough, and I justify this to myself and everyone else saying 'well, it's just on loan, I'm paying it back.. so what's the big deal??'.. But yes, it is a big deal... especially when it becomes a habit, when it becomes something you expect, and finally, something you can't live without. Then you have a problem. There are many kinds of addictions, and I think this is just another kind... If you can keep spending with wild abandon and make it someone else s problem to make sure you survive, then that's not just spoilt and wilfull, it's irresponsible, dangerous, damaging and eventually quite degrading.

So before I get sucked into this horrific spiral once more, I've made arrangements to work my way through my stay here in Mumbai AND do it my way, do it large... After all, thank the stars I'm not afraid to work.. I'm willing to trudge my way through the dirt, rain and slush of Mumbai by day, if you'll pay me enough to clean up nice and party it up by night..

And for the people who are going to point out that I am in fact, still living off my parents while I have no job and relying on them to fund my education, I feel I have to clarify here that my point is not to never take assistance from my parents again, but to find their assistance sufficient.. to live within the means available to me... or finally, make the arrangements to substantiate what is already available.

Maybe I'm destined to be one of those people that lives pay cheque to pay cheque, after all, I shudder to think what my life would be without the parties, the fun, the tequila and the dancing... but I would consider the ability to claim that I can now 'barely survive' on my own to be a step in the right direction..:)

Regress To Advance

There are certain things happening in my life, that involve someone else as well, and I would like nothing more than to write about it all here, in my blog, but I'm not very sure how acceptable that would be for the afore mentioned person. So let me try and be discreet, and write about it in the vaguest possible terms.
I'm in the city, and I've begun giving some thought to whether or not this guy and I have anything in common to make things work. We have the best time, we enjoy each others company and i don't think we're ever bored with each other, even if we're sitting around watching the television. But on the other hand, we argue a lot, mostly at the end of every night; we seem to have our own baggage and hang ups about the other person, and we seem to different from who we were and what we once wanted.
We seem to be always caught in this crossfire of who said what, who's changed how, who did what.. it's a battlefield of emotions, and pride and ego seem to winning.
It makes me wonder why it comes to this... We both seem to obviously want this to work, we're willing to go above and beyond to make it happen, so why do we seem intent on sabotaging it before it's had a chance to take off?? People say that ex's can't be friends. I always thought that we disproved that rule.. but maybe it is true because a true friendship will touch upon many things in your life, including your sexual exploits. And when you're looking to rekindle that flame, you're going into it with the knowledge of your previous decisions, previous flings and your previous mistakes... And the thought of all of this being possibly held up to scrutiny makes you cringe a little, get a little defensive, a little rude, a little aggressive... a little painful..:)
And it's tough to resist the temptation to flip the coin... while you may not want to be questioned yourself, you're just burning up with questions about what he 's been up to all this time... who did he see, who did he sleep with, who did he like, who did he go where with.. did he find someone better than me??... That is actually the ultimate question.. I don't think women who ask these questions really care what you did or where you went... we may care a little about who you did it with.. (especially if we know her)... but what we're really after is, 'did you find someone who compares with me'...
When people break up, they do a lot of different things to cope with it... and I'm not talking about something like binge drinking and retail therapy... that's short lived and expensive.. I'm thinking about the changes that people make in their lives so that they get up in the morning, get dressed, smile at themselves in the mirror and move on..
Some people use it as a wake up call to make the changes that they think need to be made in their lives, do the things that they wanted to do, some people bury their feelings and bury themselves, some people move on to have a relationship with their work place... whatever it may be that will help them move on.. So when you're on the threshold of a new relationship, you're pretty much messed up the way you are.. so what do you do?
I think you did what you had to do to move on, now something better is knocking at your door....don't blow it just because you've been an emotional wreck for the last two years, or you've shut down so much you're pretty much a vault, or you cleaned your apartment twelve times in seven days, so you're borderline OCD...!!... I say embrace life, thaw out, keep the good that's in you, keep the experience... but also allow your experience to help you recognize a good thing when you see it... and just go for it!... You can't spend the rest of your life looking back.. whether it's in remembrance of something that's now over or by clinging on to the breakup you...Maybe the second time around won't be markedly different, after all, we are still the same two people.. but it will be different..and what's in the past is in the past.. and who knows what the future will bring...

Maximum City - My City?

Being back in Mumbai makes me wonder why I ever left. I think I needed to go for a while with everything that was happening, personally and professionally.. I needed the time and the distance to gain a little perspective and most importantly, I needed home. But once the injury is past, and the care has been given, you start beating your wings to go out there and experience life again.
Bangalore was an experience, one that taught me it is not the city for me. If anything, it proved to me that my instincts were correct in the beginning. Mumbai is definitely where my heart is the happiest. I can only describe it as a sense of freedom. The anonymity, the people, the sheer size of it even... everything about this city speaks to me...
I'm not sure if it is only Mumbai though. I think personally I find a South Indian city to be stifling... whether it's the language or just the geography of it..I find it all a little too close to home.. And it appears that while I may need to go home to recuperate every once in a while, I also need that physical distance between me and home.
I'm now in Mumbai and suddenly can't imagine going back to Bangalore. It's obvious I don't belong there. So the question is, should I start looking to re-establish my roots in good old Mumbai city till college beckons??.. Or should I let this little window of opportunity pass me by? After all, it really doesn't get any easier than this. I'm packed and I'm here... It could be the easiest thing in the world...

Building Blocks

After moving to Bangalore over five months ago and basically just sitting around on my ass taking up space, I decided to change the game plan a little and give up on trying to get a job altogether. Yea I know, now I sound like a complete bum right? But wait, I have decided that the time has come to take a substantial step towards my future. Make things happen! Solidify my dreams of becoming a rising star! A force to be reckoned with!!... And wouldn't you know it, it all starts with a Math paper.
Ugh, the dreaded math, with ratio and proportion; distance, time and speed, percentages, profit and loss, probability, exponents, fractions, volume, pythagoras theorem, graphs, geometry, logarithm, trigonometry, algebra, linear equations, quadratic equations....oh my god!!! When does it end????!!!

In order to embark on my dream of doing journalism, I first have to traverse the treacherous path of numbers, formula, and the nerve racking 'x' and 'y'... No two alphabets have inspired as much outright panic in me as these...Now I am seeking guidance from my sister who is in my opinion, a mathematical genius, in order overcome the limitations of my mind, and possible plain stupidity in this department.
If I manage to find my nirvana, in the form a passing score, I will then actually be truly on my way to making things happen for me. While it may not come with a visa attached to it, it's still a damn good step in the right direction. So here's to me! May the coming days be filled with sweat, blood (probably) and tears, with the hope of big riches to come.

Religion and My Philosophy

Day before yesterday I took out the old Bible and dusted it off. I've decided that I've been remiss in performing my Christian duties, mostly to be honest, because I couldn't be bothered.
I remember having a great deal of faith in God as a child. I think when people are younger they find it easier to believe without question in the existence of God, the truth of your holy texts and the supremacy of your priests. Then as you start to grow, you find yourself questioning what you've always believed, what to the rational mind seems impossible, and trying to reconcile the line between religion and science.
I remember being very young and being thoroughly mystified sitting in class while my teacher very scientifically explained how the universe, the stars, the sun, the earth, humans and all living creatures came to be over millions of years..... as far as I knew, all it took was 6 days! So I came racing home to ask my mother (who was the supreme source of all knowledge in my eyes) how this could be possible since the BIBLE tells us God made the earth in 6 days... I'm not sure what she said to me... but I don't think it was a satisfactory answer, because I was confused about it for some time to come... But eventually as I grew up, somewhere along the way, without my knowledge, science won.
I still believed in God, and his existence, his power and I had faith... but in some ambivalent sort of way.... probably not in the least bit interesting or impressive to the God in question.
But another thing that actually made me go my own path (which was quite far away from religion) was the emphasis that in order to be a child of God, one must live in a manner God will approve of... which incidentally in my family, not only meant do not steal, lie, covet etc.. but also one should not drink, smoke, party, have boyfriends.. and lets not even go near sex!
I could never understand why people think that in todays world, when there are so many worse things happening out there, God is going to string you up by your heels for smoking or drinking. I believe in a God who is all knowing, and knows that times have changed and things are no where as simple as they used to be. So maybe, just maybe, if you're a great person and you've lived your life to the best of your ability, you smoking and drinking is not as much of a hassle as people think it is!
Also, the Bible has been interpreted and preached by none other than man... with their own lofty ideas about what God deems is right and wrong... what if they're wrong? What if God is not such a strict, fearsome God after all.. what if there are shades of Grey?
Alright, so the Bible also says things like our body is Gods temple and we should not tarnish it.. It doesn't go exactly like that, but you get my drift... But could it be possible that this is just a little too literal??
Don't you think that the most important thing for people to do is live a good life, as best they can and also derive as much enjoyment and pleasure out of life as they can, if they're not hurting anyone? Isn't this whole concept of self denial a thing of the past?
No one is really sacrificing goats at the alter anymore. Times have changed - people say God no longer wants or needs that. So why is it that people still believe that only if you deny yourself life's pleasures will you earn the pleasure of God? Maybe God doesn't want or need that either. Doesn't it stand to reason that if that were the case, if that were what God wanted, he'd have made us live on barren land... instead he gave us Paradise. Doesn't it seem like we've got something wrong, somewhere?

Break On Through To The Other Side!

My life has taken another twist, and this time for the better. I am constantly surprised how your life can change in the most subtle of ways over night and still make you feel like a completely different person in the morning.
The last few weeks, I have been riding a roller coaster of emotions (obviously all hinging on a man) from excitement, happiness, affection, sadness, anger, irritation, embarrassment and humiliation, till finally it all came crashing down two days ago. Needless to say, it reached its crescendo with fit of rage befitting the whole sordid episode. After which, I shed the few requisite tears, shook my fist at the heavens, went to bed, and woke up feeling strangely cleansed. With a feeling of accomplishment, like you do when you find yourself endlessly muddling through something, and suddenly you find yourself on the other side and its all behind you... and the future stretches brightly before you.
Riding this wave I went out last night with two dear friends, and came to the conclusion that while mans best friend may be a dog, a woman's is definitely her girl friends. We spent the night guy bashing, drinking, dancing, gossiping and indulging in some harmless flirtation. It was one of the most fun and least complicated evenings I have had in the longest of times.
Tonight, is yet another night of catching up with old friends, and nothing more. I can't wait. I do believe I have had enough over whelming emotion to last me the next six months.
Could the drama queen in me be dying??!!....Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!

Rules Of Engagement

Men always say women play the games. They complain that women flirt with them with no intention of taking it further, that they get a guy to buy the drinks and then move on to the next guy, that women dress provocatively just to tease the guy with no intention of 'putting out'....
And I have to agree. And I defend women everywhere who do this, because the fact is that men play games too. And in fact, the games men play are by far more complicated.
If you imagine the dating scenario to be a game of chess, most often than not you'll find that all the women are doing is playing on the defense - counter acting every move the guy makes. You never really find the woman going on the offense, taking charge and leading the guy. (disclaimer: I am speaking from an overall perspective of what I've observed although I accept there are individual cases to the contrary)
If you look at it, why would a woman be less than cynical and hard-hearted towards men on meeting them, when so much of the time they seem driven by the single goal of trying to get you into bed? Even an evening that has gone well, becomes tinged with disillusionment and distaste when you end your evening needing to explain to the guy that you want to take things slow. Or even worse, I've found that even after you explain this to them, you end up deflecting their sometimes not so subtle attempts to override your decision. Sometimes I wonder if they're so focused on 'getting some' that they don't hear the words you're saying, or whether it just makes no difference. But yes, I do accept that there are some men out there who are perfect gentlemen. But being so few and far between they're snapped up before you can say 'shazam'.:)
But getting back to my initial point, how do you expect us women to not play games, when it appears the entire dating scenario is nothing but a game??! A woman cannot tell a guy too early that she likes him because it will scare him off, so she pretends to be aloof and plays hard to get to reel him in, a woman cannot be bold enough to jump into bed with a guy she really really likes on the first night because the chances are she'll lose him thereafter, a woman cannot call or text the guy as much as she wants because that's asking to be forgotten and taken for granted. So come on gentlemen, tell me.. what are our options??!..
For a group that consistently claims to be the simpler sex, you guys have sure complicated this playing field..So is it any wonder that the women have as many 'issues' as you guys say we do? Perhaps we're jut trying to maintain our dignity and self worth playing a game that for the most part we have no interest in.

Romancing The Bottle

I'm ashamed to say it, but I have to admit that I cannot hold my liquor. Over the years I 've used a multitude of reasons to convince myself that this does not matter, from saying that I'm young, that it's one night, everyone's having such a great time, it's all between friends and even going so far as to believe that i can't dance without a drink in my hand... well, three hours later, needless to say, I'm drunk and I'm defintely not dancing...
I used to say when I was younger that I would smoke but I would never drink. I remember always looking at the people around me who were falling down drunk with such distaste and think to myself that I will never let myself look like that.
To be honest, I'm not sure why I've learnt to drink the way I do.. I cannot really decide whether I start drinking by giving in to the peer pressure, or whether I start drinking because I actively crave the alcohol. After all, I know that for everytime I've given in to my friends about having a drink when I had decided I would not, I know that I have also called them up and dragged them to a bar to have a drink... to take the edge off...!! (shudder)
When I think about it, I'm not overly concerned that I have a drinking problem. I can go quite comfortably for a stretch of time without feeling the slightest urge to have a drink, and sometimes when people around me are drinking, I ignore this urge. My problem is that I never taught myself to drink right, to drink responsibly and most important to me, drink gracefully. I never taught myself how to pace myself, when to say no and when to say enough.
Now you can call me lazy, but I have no intention of teaching myself how either. Since there's a part of me that's become wary of the drink, I've come to the conclusion that the only thing for me to do is to take control, free myself from this vicious cycle of drinking and drama, and end my soul-sapping love affair with the bottle.
So for all my friends who have always said I'm so much of fun when I drink and when I party, and that there's no one as crazy as me in a club, I hope you all still find that I'm the same girl, just with a little more dignity.

Crash and Burn..

Why is it that drifting from being friends to more seems like a natural progression, but reversing the process is so complicated?
I met this guy, and one month into hanging out (and all that that entailed), I decided I wanted to have the 'where is this heading' conversation. Well, perhaps that conversation was required because it was explained to me in no uncertain terms that he is not looking for a relationship and he would be more than happy to just be friends.
Now, I know how that looks... it looks like I got duped. But regardless of how it seems, I don't really think that's what happened. This guy is not malicious, he's not rude or mean or disrespectful. He just doesn't want a relationship. Now perhaps I can argue that if he knew that all along, he could have made that clear before the relationship went physical, but then again I don't think either of us anticipated that happening so quickly.
While I am disappointed, after all I really did actually quite like this guy, I have to respect his point of view. I can't take offense that he doesn't want something more, that is his right. Well, maybe I can take a little offense..But that's my right...:)
There is a slightly bruised part of me that's a bit hurt, embarrassed and insulted that he managed to so flippantly brush aside the whole idea of looking at something more, with what appeared to be remarkably little regret... but then again I have to assume the man knows his own mind.
I was told that there is no need for me to feel wounded or embarrassed because he does in fact like me, he just doesn't want to date me... Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better because the woman inside me is thinking, 'well, maybe you like me, but you obviously don't like me enough!'
Now I actually am not in love with this man in the least. I'm fond of him, I enjoy his company and I would have enjoyed the opportunity to take things a little further.... But I think what's gotten to me was the unequivocal NO. It's not that I've never been rejected or I think it's impossible for a guy to not want to be with me,... It's just that I think I had this guy pegged all wrong.
I'm used to knowing right at the offset pretty much how it's going to go... You usually know if it's a fling, and the approximate lifespan of a fling.
This guy wanted to take things slow right from the beginning, leading me to believe that he was taking it seriously and wanted to see where things went. Then when we started fooling around, he still wanted to take things slow. At all these points of time, I was misinterpreting the reason he was taking things slow as that he wanted to do it right and not because he wasn't sure if he wanted to take things further!
Perhaps it was destined for doom right at the get-go... Now the real question is, can we start over and this time just be friends...?? I'm not too sure, because for one thing, while my bruised ego makes me want to take a snap at him every once in a while, apparently my brain hasn't told my body yet that it's not working out! Pride and Lust... it doesn't seem to be the best recipe for friendship, does it?!!

The Road To Perdition

After three months of sitting on my butt, I FINALLY scored what appeared to be a great opportunity to work with the TV station TV9. Little did I know that it would be the equivalent to selling my soul, my social life and my will to live.

When I went for the interview, which was initially a written test to guage my writing skills, all seemed to go well. But when I didn't hear from them for over a week, I resorted to hounding them, initially as a follow up, and later out of sheer perverseness, since I had explicitly told them I wanted a response either way.. (And I thought it was extremely badly behaved of them to leave me hanging)... In retrospect, that should have been my first clue that it was all going to go south...

Eventually, I did get a call for a second round of interviews. Buoyed by my natural optimism, i showed up fresh faced and enthusiastic 25 minutes ahead of time.. I was made to wait a total of an hour and 15 minutes before my interviewer deigned to show up.... That should have been my second clue...

In the course of my interview, I was told that since I have no prior work experience in journalism, have never studied journalism and cannot speak Kannada or Tamil, I am being hired purely for my writing skills and I am effectively useless to the company.....Third clue perhaps?

Then they listed down the rules and stipulations - The 10 hr shift system, the 3 month salary deposit and the 3 month notice period... By this time my ever present optimism had taken quite a hit... But nonetheless, I agreed (fool is me) to join and showed up starry-eyed and shitting bricks the following monday.

Within the first 48 hours, it was becoming exceedingly apparent to me that I had made a grave error in judgement. The news9 office was what I imagine any government office to run like. The head Babus posturing and screaming at everyone in sight and the rest of the staff scurrying around like mice, taking as many smoke breaks as possible to gain some peace of mind and vent their frustration, and don't even get me started on the office politics!

Being the new comer who didn't know anyone, I think I was given a crash course on job satisfaction and employee morale.... simply put, there was none. In a nutshell I was told to keep my head down, my mouth shut, not to gossip, stay on the boss's good side, smile and nod when people bitched and to always be non-committal...It's somewhere around now that I really started to panic.

However, I still had not signed any papers, a fact that they were aware of, so the News9 babus were on their best behavior with me, asking me how I liked it, asking me if I was happy, if I had any complaints... lulling me into a false sense of job satisfaction.

However, luckily for me, my ever dissatisfied colleagues kept me from being completely blinkered. After all, no matter how good your day is going, after listening to ten hours of bitching you're bound to wonder if someday that's going to be you.. Heaven forbid!!

So after taking stock of the one Pro (the work ex) and the numerous Cons, I woke up this morning and threw in the towel. Perhaps it was a tremendous opportunity to learn and maybe people will say that I lost out, and maybe people will think I didn't have what it takes to stick it out... Perhaps I didn't.. But then again, shouldn't the profession you've chosen for the rest of your life provide you with satisfaction and joy? Shouldn't you want to wake up in the morning and go to work? I'm all for the struggle and I've never ever shirked hard work in my professional life... but when the thought of walking into your office where you're spending most of your waking hours fills you with dread... now, then there's something wrong.

I suppose it's all just a matter of degree of how much you can take.. Giving up my time, my social life and my sleep cycle for a job I hated...well, I guess now I know just how much is too much..!!

I Walk The Line

When I started writing this blog, I was of the opinion that I would be a bold and fearless writer addressing every issue or controversy that I had an opinion on, with no compromise to myself or anyone else.
I now face a problem.. What happens when you meet a boy and he reads your blog?! (describing in detail your past escapades, your flings, your relationships... and your evaluation of mens attributes in no uncertain terms!!).. You can be sure he's going to balk at the idea of eventually being included in this accounting.
Being a woman, I love to talk. And I mean really talk about everything! Who i met, how he looked, what he said, what he did, what his friends were like, where we went, what we ate, how we danced, what we danced to, what time we got home, how he kissed, where we kissed, where his hands were, maybe even how high I had to stretch..... and eventually more..:)
Sorry boys, it's a fact of life. You gotta deal.
Now I'm suddenly faced with the question of 'Do I still proceed with writing my every thought, emotion and opinion with as much abandon as earlier?'
Do I start taking what he has to say about it into account, or throw caution to the winds and proceed full steam ahead. (The problem with that is, I may eventually sink faster than the Titanic).
Or do I just carry on as per usual and expect him to be a good sport.
But here's the deal, I started this blog to talk about me and my life. I have written about my family and friends. And sometimes I've written in less than flattering terms. While it might sound lofty to say this, I've always tried to be objective and write the truth, whether it's about me or anyone else.
So I suppose it wouldn't be doing justice to the vision I had when I started this, or to my readers, if I started dishing out the same old, overdone, politically-correct drivel.
So to the present and future men in my life, I have to say, I'm sorry my loves, but the blog was here first.

Boy, I know you did NOT just say that..!

I've come to the conclusion that there has to be something to be said for the concept that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. How is it that when two women or even twenty women are conversing they're just all on the same page. Come on, we're practically finishing each others sentences. And I'm not even necessarily speaking of women that know each other!.. But put ONE man and ONE woman in conversation with each other, and WHAM.. chaos and confusion....!!

I'm not saying that things go wrong right from the moment they meet.. but boy, give it time..

Now I don't know who to feel more sorry for.. The woman who has just been inadvertently insulted, slighted or ignored.. or the guy who's wondering what the hell just happened!
How is it that a God who made the heaven and earth, the universe, the oceans, the birds, the bees, the animals and the humans forgot to put us on the same page! or at least grant us the intelligence to figure it out as the milleniums progress!!

We can put a man on the moon, send satellites into space, create weapons of mass destruction and travel around the world in a matter of hours, but we still go home at the end of the night saying 'Do you KNOW what that douchebag said????!!!'... How can it be this hard?!

Style Me Up Scotty

Im lending my space to my good friend Neha Patodia who has launched a website called Styleme, for all of us who've lost our way down the endlessly twisting road of modern day fashion. so please read on everyone, and show Neha some LOVE!!..
If you like her site, please go onto facebook and 'like' it and refer it to your friends for them to like it too..

We all spend a lot of time, money and energy in finding the right clothes and fashion accessories for ourselves. Imagine if there was a way to optimise your shopping visits and know what suits your needs best. Now, there thankfully is a place where your fashion related queries can be answered. Mumbai’s first state-of-the online fashion directory empowers you with all the information you need. Whether you want to locate a store or find out what’s on sale, http://www.styleme.co.in/ will bring you the hottest buys, the best picks and genuine reviews of some of the best known, relatively unknown and new store openings in the city.From designer wear to one-off small boutiques, Styleme will give you specific guidelines and customised help to fulfil your needs and demands. Clothes, jewellery, accessories, fashionable stationary, eyewear—men, women and children can find all their questions answered.The detailed listings will give you the exact location, contact details and even opening hours of the stores you are looking to visit. It will offer details on parking availability, credit/ debit card acceptance policies, exchange policies and what to expect from the store.From affordable dressing to personal styling and makeovers you can find all kinds of fashion-related services at Styleme. Save time and make the most of your shopping spend with http://www.styleme.co.in
Log on to be a part of this online shopaholic community!
Styleme

BCG - The Susegad Way

For those of you who are wondering, the word 'Susegad' to Goans, means lazy. On the BCG trip to Goa, we were anything but Susegad. From the moment we arrived, we were unstoppable for 48 hours till on Sunday afternoon we all returned, fairly comatose back to our own homes and own lives.

But for those 48 hours we went completely and utterly insane!!

The deal was a 2 night-3 day stay at The Park Hyatt hotel in South Goa. Words cannot adequately describe how absolutely beautiful that place is. With lush lawns, three swimming pools, a private beach and a nice, hot, bubbly jacuzzzi, I was in holiday heaven.
One thing I can say about BCG, they really know how to do things in style!

We reached on Friday afternoon and after all the hellos had been said and the lunch had been eaten, we hit the beach, then the pool, then the oh-my-god-jacuzzi, and back to the pool. And as you lie around in the water, nursing a beer, you think life doesn't get much better than this...... then we hit the party..

Sporting my cute little cocktail dress, we scooted on to the banquet hall for some drinking and lots of dancing..when we arrived, it was like being greeted by the paparazzi, with flashbulbs going off everywhere. So there I stood, feeling sexy with a glass of champagne in my hand, thinking to myself 'yep, life can definitely always get better'..:) and boy, did we live it. We danced, and danced and drank and drank the night away.. a few tequila shots down, I was barefoot and disheveled, but who cares, I was in Goa, and having the time of my life..!

Towards the end of the night, not too many of us could walk straight, and I was definitely not one of them. By this time it was 4.00 AM and I decided I was hungry!! So the ever sweet staff of the park hyatt fixed me a plate of tomato sandwiches to get me to stop bargaining with them for a plate of food..which I was terribly grateful for.

The next day was spent in a similar fashion, starting with lunch, a snooze for me, the beach and finally the jacuzzi.. (again). The nights theme was Hawaiin night. This time round everyone paced themselves with the drinking..and lord, did we dance!

Around 3.00 AM, me and my accomplice decided to take a little midnight dip into the lagoon. So there we were, just the two of us in this beautiful, quiet pool of water, bobbing along, with a beer in hand, with nothing and no one around us, except the quiet.. It was absolutely divine.. After which, I played the shortest game of poker of my life. I bought in for a hundred bucks and five minutes later, it was gone. Need I mention I was in a slightly inebriated state :)...

Back in the room, we stayed awake a little while longer, catching up, now that it was all coming to an end.

The next morning was a delicious English breakfast, followed by hurried packing, hurried goodbyes and suddenly, we were back on the bus again, heading to the airport...

The whole experience was absolutely divine. It was my own little pocketful of sunshine.

Now am back in Bangalore, and missing my friends. But I'm not grieving whole heartedly. After all, New Years is right around the corner, and the sun shall shine once more..:)

You're Not The Man For Me

After having been single for the past year (or more) I find myself acting like a walking matrimonial website. It is the strangest thing, and to be honest, slightly horrifying. When I go out I find myself, quite subconsciously I might add, scouting the crowd for a nice, eligible bachelor.
However, something seems to be wrong with my antenna because while I find bachelors without any hassle, the 'eligible' part still seems to be a little elusive.
I have managed to find this past year, the short, the thin, the creepy, the clingy, the obnoxious, the conceited, the two-timers, the liars, the poorly endowed, the bad-in-bed and even the downright strange.
They were not all bad, quite a few of them shared some very good times with me, but when did it get so difficult to just meet a nice guy??? Someone who, if he is charming and witty and interesting is not poorly endowed or bad in bed! Or someone who, if he is amazing in bed is not a lying, two-timing, obnoxious, conceited pig!
I'm starting to have new respect for these matrimonial and dating websites. It is just too exhausting, time consuming and expensive for a lot of people to keep going out there to meet someone. I guess these websites are like a police line up and you just gotta pick your guy..:) Well, maybe not that simple..
But I ve come to the conclusion, the only time it is easy to meet a guy is when you are in school or university, when you have all these men coming to one place every day, seeing the same people every day, and the sheer numbers indicate that something has to give. And throw some raging hormones in there and you've got something for everyone.
Me? Well, since I'm no longer in school, and university is some time away, I think I'm going to change tactics. I'm going to use reverse psychology on myself and hope that if I no longer want it, or look for it, it will hit me dead in the eye... One can always hope..:)

We Are Family, I Got All My Mallus With Me...

In true Cherukara (for those that don't know, that's the family name) style, us cousins had our own little family gathering - for the first time breaking free of our parents and doing it all on our own.
For you to capture the essence of the Cherukara family, I need to paint you a little picture of what its like being a part of this family, what it's like growing up in this family, the quirks and the traditions of this family.
The head of this esteemed household is the late C.S. George (A.K.A Appacha) A legendary man, a devout christian and a loyal and doting grandfather to us. His sense of humour was incomparable and the stories of his stunts and gimmicks was the stuff that has carried us through many a nights over the years. And being blessed with some members of the family gifted in acting and mimicry, the legend lives on.
Married to the wonderfully kind, understanding and rock solid Annamma George (A.K.A Ammachy)known to us for her faith and love (for us and for god), her tolerance for what life deals her, and (let's face it) the Cherukara men, together they had six children. Yes, SIX children. Who in turn had a total combined number of fourteen children, which is the current running generation of the Cherukara clan.
So this time we stepped up, travelling great distances, putting aside work and other priorities to do some good old family bonding.
So the first thing about the Cherukaras is that we just love our drink. So we kick start our gathering in the afternoon with a couple of beers, followed by a huge, delicious, heart stopping, cholestrol inducing lunch, followed by the requisite snooze.
Come evening, everyone troops downstairs and we have our priorities straight. Keeping with the Cherukara tradition, we have the family photo session. Women seated, Husbands behind their wives, Babies in their laps, and the unmarried folk jump in anywhere (but always, always women in front, men behind) After several dozen photographs have been taken, we troop onto the lawn, dragging our plastic chairs with us and settle into a circle to commence with the drinking. As the alcohol flows, so does the erachi olathiyathu (beef fry).. 2 kilos worth to be precise.
Keeping with tradition, the whole night is being captured on video and of course being photographed, as we swap stories of our memories of our infamous grandfather, stories of our childhood and our numerous previous gatherings growing up.
We are however proud to say that we also did things a little differently. For the first time I think, the women sat and enjoyed the alcohol and conversation as freely as the men did, and the men also took turns helping out with the cranky babies, putting them down for the night. Someone jokingly said perhaps with this coming generation the women may sit around in the circle on the lawn drinking while the men stay indoors with the babies and frying the cutlets. One can always hope..:)
As the night wore on, we drank some more, did some terrible karaoke (I guess the one thing we don't have are the musical genes), and wrapped up the night with a good old mallu dinner complete with Kerala paratha.
All in all it was a grand success. After all our scoffing at our parents for their endless gatherings, somehow I believe that the story of the Cherukara reunions is far from over.

Money, Money, Money... MONEY

For the longest time I've had the feeling that Im being wrongly accused and repeatedly sentenced for the crime of spending too much of my money. I could never really understand this, for if you actually look at the book of accounts, what I have spent is a minute, marginal factor of what my ever-so-responsible sister was spending!!
Now Im not suggesting that she was being frivolous. Infact, Im not going into any detail at all about how much she spent and on what. Suffice it to say that it was mutliples of mine.
But you can imagine how it would make my blood boil.. the sheer injustice of it all. I mean come one! Here I am, actually trying to be responsible with my money, live within my means, even going so far as to live practically outside the city because I couldn't afford more, living in a hell hole because I didn't want to ask for the money to do the place up and at the most asking for a few hundered bucks a month to float me if needed. And I would be lectured about how responsible my sister is with her money, how she invests!! Hell, I'd invest too, except with all of the above, investing doesn't really fall into my scheme of things.
Anyway, somehow a few days ago, this started becoming a real problem for me. And everytime I thought about it, I would just start to see Red.
And it all came to a flash point when I was taking a nap, and the damn dog, sleeping under my bed started barking like a lunatic, shooting me straight upright. So I lay there, fuming mad, and guess what I started thinking about. And guess what I wanted to do about it.. write all about it in my blog, spew all this venom for the world to see..
Then perhaps by divine intervention, I looked at my phone and I saw a chirpy,cheery message from my mother. And just like that I calmed down, and I realised that whatever else is going on, she's not doing this on purpose. So I called her, and had a conversation with her that was long overdue I think.
She admitted that perhaps she's been judging me based on an image of my past, and not who I am with my money today. Although, we did branch into other areas of possible improvement for me.. where I conceded..a little.. in my head.. But I'm working on it.
But the point is, that I went from wanting to write a fury filled, venomous blog post to writing one that's completely appreciative of my mom and how willing she is to listen and understand..
How cool is that? I guess I should have tried this a few months sooner..:)

Let's Talk About Sex...

There are some things that people say should not be mentioned. Some things that are meant to be kept within the family, the four walls of your home, within your mind, and behind your bedroom door. One of these is sex.
Now, Im going to discuss this freely and hopefully objectively on ths forum, since i consider this to be my space, where I reign queen. And while I am sure this particular post will garner more than a few frowns and outright shock, i think its high time people stopped pretending that it doesn't happen, it's not natural and it's not pleasurable.
Long gone are the days when women go to their marriage bed, blushing virgins. I think today, women especially, are more aggressive in terms of what they want sexually from their partner, and more vocal about how to achieve it.
Whether it is through the television, radio, internet, billboards, magazines, newspapers or even through friends, women are now tremendously more educated on how to have sex, safe sex and (if I may say it) mind blowing sex.
What confuses me about the society that we live in, is why people act like this is something that we need to pretend doesn't happen. After all, do we not want our sisters or our daughters to have a thriving, exciting, stimulating sex life. Or would we rather they lie in bed, in dread waiting to perform their marital duty, simply because they are so ill equipped to deal with the level of intimacy thrust upon them.
Wouldn't the man enjoy having a sexual relationship with a woman who obviously enjoys and partakes in the act as much as him, rather than have a mere vessel in which to purge himself.
And what of those couples (married or unmarried) that are unable to openly express their sexual desires to each other? Should they not have other avenues of exploration and education available to help them?
The idea that sex is something that can only be shared between two people that are married (but I think perhaps not necessarily in love) is ludicrous. I believe the institution of marriage was put into place to regulate people, to build a society, and at that time to regulate the act of procreation. Today, I believe that institution is becoming obsolete. And I believe that today, sex as an act is gaining acceptance as something that is not sacred or holy, it is not something that should be done out of duty or obligation, and it doesn't need to be something painful and embarassing.
People today turn to spouses, partners, same-sex partners, friends and even strangers for sex for a multitude of reasons. Some turn to each other through love, others for trust, affection, comfort and even straight forward, no strings attached attraction. One reason does not have to better than the other, for two lives are not the same and so decisions cannot be measured against the same yardstick.
I believe people need to have the freedom to experiment, to see what they enjoy, what makes them uncomfortable, to discover how far they are willing to go.
They need to learn to use their body, to appreciate their body, and to thrive on the pleasure gained and given through their body. Sex is not a one-way ticket to hell.
So I say, Be Safe, Be Responsible.. But Be Bold.

In My Day....

Have you ever noticed that whenever you a decision to do something, sticking to it suddenly becomes a herculean task?
And it doesn't matter what it's about.. at least for me it doesn't.
The minute I decide to quit smoking, all I can think about is lighting up.
The minute I decide to cut back on my lifestyle, everyone wants to party.
The minute I step onto quiet-town-cochin soil, all I want to do is go nuts.

It's the strangest thing. I mean, who comes to COCHIN and wants to party???
I can imagine everyone scratching their heads right about now saying 'who knew you could party in Cochin'

But the point is, I don't know why it's so very difficult to just stick to my guns and stick to my decisions. I tell you, I do start out the night with the very best intentions. The plan is to have a good time, and come home at a fairly respectable time. I'm happy, Dad's happy.. No harm, No foul... Then the shit hits the ceiling.

Someone I respect a great deal once told me that he sees so much of potential in me, and sees me throwing it all away to have a good time..I think he may have a point, but I also don't know if he is completely justified in that thought.
I have this image in my head of who I want to be - I see this strong, intelligent woman, with a career and a life that doesn't permit me to be the last one at the party.. because face it, most of us don't drink till the crack of dawn, and stay out partying all night because we're so hooked to the booze.. It's because we're restless. We have nothing holding us down - we have no life.
I mean, here we are, twenty something, most of us on career paths that we don't believe in..bored and restless..We're footloose and fancy-free.. (and it really does get a little tedious after a while).
I know someone out there is saying 'youth is wasted on the young'.. but then I have to ask - we work, we earn money, we build our career AND we go out and have a good time..what else are we supposed to do???

What is so funny about our generation is that we really can do it all. We can work till ten at night and party till three in the morning and be back at work the next day at nine. It's really not that difficult. I'll admit, none of us probably have any savings, but if we do cut back on life, what do we do???? In this generation there is absolutely nothing worse than being bored!
Our whole world, all our technology, all our knowledge seems to be primed towards one common goal of alleviating boredom.
So how do we, a pampered spoilt generation exist in a world based on the previous generations ideals. I admit, there is much to be gained by doing so. But knowing this and incorporating this are two points that never seem to meet.

My Criticism Of Me

I was reading my last few posts and I ve come to the conclusion that I seem to be taking life too seriously.
Yes, I don't have to be there to know that most you are falling out of your chairs in shock and picking your jaws off the floor, so let me clarify. I mean in my blog posts.
Reading back on some of them they seem so tediously philosophical, so deep, so....pious.
I tell you, sometimes I have no patience, even for myself!
I also think that I must be the only person who has ever written a blog post, criticizing their own blog!! But that's precisely what I intend to do.

I mean, come on, I'm only twenty three. Surely I have something to write about other than my endless journey of self dicovery and my road to Nirvana.
Where's the fun and the parties and the laughter??? Where are my posts of last nights faux pas, gossip and secrets??? I AM still young right???
There is also some disparity between my accounting of myself in my posts and the real me. I have taken to potraying myself as having crossed this mile stone in my life where I have settled down and learnt when enough is enough.
The truth is, that's still touch and go. For every night that I say enough is enough, there's another night that I say 'why not'.. and actually, if you think about it.. Why Not????
Why not go out and get pasted every once in a while??
Why not go out and blow up more money than you should once in a while???
Why not have a few too many shots, get up on the bar, dance till you drop and even get into a fight, scream, shout and burst into tears??
Do we want to be dignified ALL the time?? I don't. I don't think I could if I spent the rest of my life trying.

So lets see what happens from here. But I think from now on, we'll add a little more fun to this blog. I would hate to say I bore my readers. And worse, I would hate to say I bore myself!!

The Long Road Home

Coming to Cochin is always a little confusing for me.. Strangely in a town as small and slow as Cochin, I always feel a little lost or rather a little out of sync with myself.
While this may not be a very flattering assessment, what I always relate with cochin, or at least the youth of cochin, is this fever to compete with the big city. And in particular, the big city night life.
I can see some of you smirking at this ludicrous idea of Cochin even dreaming of competing with the vibrant, thriving night life of a city like Mumbai or Delhi or even Chennai. But it's true, and it seems like the boys back home have something to prove.

I sometimes picture a night out in Cochin to be something like taking a nose dive into a pool and never coming up for air till the last song is sung, the last drop of alcochol is consumed, and someones car has been crashed.
Its like being sucked into this crazy vortex of drinking, dancing, shots, house parties and still more drinking, till it finally spits you out (hopefully) at your doorstep somewhere close to morning.
It's fun, it's crazy, it's expensive, a little tedious and so very very over the top.

I had an epiphany some time ago in Mumbai, before I left to come home. I had a rather unpleasant experience while out one night with a friend of mine from Cochin. And what I realised was that I couldn't keep up with this man from small-town Cochin and better yet, Hell, I didn't want to! I didn't want to go from club to club and from drink to drink with him. And my problem had always been that I just could not say no to him, when he was in Cochin or when he would visit me in Mumbai. That one night somehow changed my entire outlook on Cochin. It taught me, in some way, to enjoy the moment, without letting the fever grip me, without letting myself get sucked into the centre of the vortex.
I found my zen - which had previously always eluded me in Cochin.
I sometimes see myself and my life like a giant jigsaw puzzle, and one piece just feel into place :)

Take me down a peg or two if you will..

I spent this last week in Coonoor with my family, celebrating my grandmothers 80th birthday.(For those of you who are interested, Coonoor is a beautiful small hill station, in the Nilgiris, near Ooty, where the weather's almost always wonderful and you get the most delicious tea). We all showed up pumped to have an amazing time. Instead, to my jaundiced eyes, it appeared that everyone was sniping at each other as often as they were having a good time.

It all came to a head when my grandmother and I got into an arguement about me having 'yet another beer'. I had taken to having one beer a day to celebrate the start of my holiday. Anyway, I regret to say, I was needlessly rude to her, which caused some upset on her part and earned me a minor shelling from my mother.

After being informed that I was being uptight and 'saintly' by pointing fingers at everyone, I settled down and proceeded to have a very good time for the remainder of my stay there.

What appalled me and caused this lashing out was the fact that I was actually being questioned about how much I was drinking and how many cigarettes I was smoking. I know when you are used to doing things your own way and you come back to living with the family, these things are expected. But thinking about it and imagining you'd be ok with it is completely different from experiencing it and settling down into it. So of course, I completely forgive myself for freaking out and rebelling.

But I think there is something to be said for coming back and living with the folks. Other than the obvious comforts, security and pleasure you gain from it, you also learn to give a little. I think with time, you get settled in your ways and you lose the ability, or rather the will, to compromise, to adjust and put some one elses comfort and peace of mind ahead of your own.

I don't think this ability comes from sharing space with just anyone. I have had mutliple room mates over the years, and while we treated each other with respect, I can honestly say that the unspoken rule was always 'each to their own'.

I suppose when you have your own family, your spouse or your children, it comes naturally. But children I think have a lifetime of taking their parents for granted, and you need to turn around and come back every once in a while, so that you can change the things that need changing, now that you have the wisdom to do it better.
Otherwise you're just ploughing your way through life running roughshod over everyone else, right?

This Is It

My last twenty four hours in Bombay passed in a blur of last minute details and much drama..
I had it all planned out in my head how it was supposed to go.. Needless to say, that was not how things panned out. At all.

I imagined having everything sorted out the day prior to leaving so that all I would have to do would be to wake up, go to work to say my goodbyes, take my two dear colleagues out to lunch, come home, dress and look beautiful in time for my farewell.

Here's what actually happened.

I woke up to pouring rain. And I don't mean any everyday Mumbai shower, I'm talking the 'everyone runs home in a panic' shower.
Then my sister tells me I have to help her move the last of her stuff to her new house (which I had not accounted for), thus making me late for my lunch with my colleagues. When I finally dash out of her house, I splash right into calf deep dirty drain water. And as luck would have it, I have no umbrella.
However, in a few minutes I manage to flag down a ric - Which in turn, breaks down a few minutes later. So once agian I splash through the calf deep, dirty drain water into another ric and finally make it to Khar station
(All of this while holding a heavy, overloaded packet of my ex roomates dabbas, ahstrays, glasses and other miscellaneous (but heavy) stuff)
At Khar station, I am stalked down the length of the platform by a dirty creepy man who was explaining in detail ( and unfortunately in English)what he would like to do to me if he could - Yea I know..very gross.
On finally reaching my stop, Im thinking fondly of the woman who sits at the station selling umbrellas for hundred bucks (which ordinarily I would never have touched), but on this day she would be my savior. And wouldn't you know it, she's not there!
So after waiting for the rain to let up for a few minutes, which it did not, I in my infinite wisdom decide to make a dash for it.
Now read this carefully. And visualise it if you will - I take off at a running start - nearly do a split - catch my balance - run another two steps - slip - catch my balance - run two more steps - land up flat on my ass, and skid a lil bit more just for good measure. The only thing missing from that was the rug burn.
I stand up, gather my things .. and the last of my dignity and set off to hail down a cab. When a cabbie pulled over, looked me dead in the eye and informed me that he's not letting me sit in his cab as soaked as I was, the last of my dignity went with him and resorted to begging. Three taxis later, my pleading worked and I FINALLY made it to office.
The rest of the day passed without incident till evening. Thats when I started to checking up on my evening plans. It turned out that most of the people who were supposed to spend the evening with me (and incidentally were so upset that I was leaving) had made alternate plans for the night or could not make it due to circumstances. I, however, failed to understand how this could be a valid explanation for not showing up and promptly burst into tears - Afterall, my last night in the city and no one wanted to see me??.. ME?????
Then my own personal knight in shining armour, weilding his foot long umbrella came to my rescue, braving hell and high water (literally) to show me a good time. Soon after, a few more friends, whom i won't name here, travelled through the rain and across not an insignificant distance to see me, for which I am very very grateful.
So the night ended on a very very high note for me, though I did shed a tear or two over the goodbyes (which was expected, I suppose)

All in all, it was a very dramatic exit, what with the rain, the flooding, the tears, the drinking, the dancing and the last minute heart-to-hearts. But one thing I learnt from this is that you can never really know who your real, solid friends are in your life, except through those few moments that will show everyone for who they really are - their priorities, their honesty, their loyalty - their substance.
Five years in this city, I ve partied with many many people, eventually settled into one group, all of whom have sworn to be there for each other, to back each other and to prioritise each other.
Many times in the month to my leaving, I heard the oft repeated questions about why I'm leaving, how I can leave, the pledges of how much they'll miss me and how they'll all be there to make my last night special. And yet, when the moment arrived, the people with me were not these same people.
But in fact, these five people that did come to see me that night, gave me something that I will hold on to. They made me feel special for that night. They made me feel like I would be missed. And they gave me something to take away from that city - a sense of belonging. So I suppose it's true. It's never the numbers - It's the people.

Aamchi Mumbai? Not Really

People have often told me that Mumbai is the greatest city in India. Alright, I'll grant you that no where else can I enjoy a vada pav or a plate of Pani Puri, or just plain pav like I can in Mumbai, and it's the land of opportunity etc etc.. but the greatest city? I'm not sure. I say this with great deference to my Mumbai crazy friends who will probably have me drawn and quartered for my 'lapse' in judgement.

But, I do have enough evidence to back my theory. Living in this city is like navigating through a mine field. In the five years that I have lived here, I have witnessed the Mumbai floods, the Mumbai train blasts, the Mumbai terror attacks and some more general rioting, flooding and and terror threats along the way..

I have come to the conclusion that the people of Mumbai can pit themselves against these kinds of odds only so many times before the house wins. And isn't the saying that the house ALWAYS wins?

So with my history of clumsiness and general bad luck (what with Murphy practically hanging over my shoulder), I thought it's time to cash in my chips and run on home.. before I lose some much needed part of my anatomy to this city!

But yes, I'll admit, the beauty and splendor and sheer resilience of this city is simply remarkable. And it probably does make a wonderful home to the millions of people who probably have greater survival instinct and, well, balance than me.

The road to insanity

Are people required to have anything to say in order to maintain their blog?
My mind seems to be a mass of confusion and feelings, that I am unable to sift through, and truth be told I'm tiring myself out trying to.
I have discovered that writing helps me make sense of the jumble, take it apart and basically just figure things out.
Inevitably, it all comes back to my impending departure from the city that I always swore I would never leave, the boy I swore I would love forever, a sister I swore I would never get along with and friends I swore would always be there..
And yet, here I am, making a move that changes everything..
While this seems to be right, change I suppose doesn't come easy to anyone.. well, definitely not me at least. But if there's one thing that I learnt from my mother, its that you have to change, you have to adapt, else you become obsolete. Something tells me she meant that for when I turn 40, but I can be a slow learner, so I figure the earlier I start the better.
So Im changing the game plan.
And I know that while I'll be taking a truckload of amazing memories with some truly amazing people with me, I'll be moving on to bigger and better things.. I hope.
But dear god, I hate change. Even change of my own making.

Sex and The City night with the Nairs

On Wednesday night, in a spurt of enthusiasm for life, I rounded up my two friends (who whether by luck or fate, share the same last name - Nair) for a Sex and The City night at Shiros. Needless to say, we were completely on board, what with them advertising free cocktails for the ladies till midnight, games, free merchandise and more! We couldn't resist.
Now before you get carried away, let me stop you right there and state for the record that we started out very well.
Ms Nair and I started our evening with a very civilized beer at TGIF, where we were shortly joined by Mr Nair. We enjoyed pleasant conversation, picked at a Caeser Salad and walked out straight as a pin and headed to Shiros.
Thats where the madness began. It appears the words 'Free Cocktails' can make two relatively sane, relatively intelligent and relatively well brought up women act like two greedy kids locked in a candy store. However, by the 4th cocktail, I'll refrain from any description at all of our behavior - mostly because as luck would have it, I clearly remember making an ass out of myself but with my completely impaired vision, I have no clear idea of what my side kick was up to. Although I'll admit, I do hope I wasn't alone in my shame.
Despite all the alcohol, we waited with great anticipation for the games to begin. Imagine our despair when the first game announced was that the lady who collected the most 'hottest girl in the club' coupons from the guys wins cool Sex and The City merchandise! Now it was obvious that Ms Nair and I were not your top contenders in this particular game. For one, neither of us were dressed our best (though we tried to put a good spin on it) and I, having missed the beauty parlor by about a minute, looked like I was representing the male and female population for this esteemed event.
Nevertheless, we soon discovered game No 2. (In the ladies room of all places). Ms Nair with her eagle eye, spotted stacks of coupons to be given to the guys! After rifling through them to see what I could use, I stuffed a couple in my pocket and exited the rest room to find my prey.
Outside, I sifted through them to choose my best option.
Coupon#1 - Go up to a random guy and give him a hug, was quickly discarded
Coupon#2 - Go up to a random guy and get him to buy you a drink. Now this had more merit. So I gazed blearily around for my victim. However, either divine intervention made me consider the fact that I had perhaps had more than enough to drink, or perhaps my attention span had been reduced to that of a fly, for I quickly lost focus in this venture.
Coupons 4,5 and 6 were lost somewhere soon after that.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of a lot of giggling, some dancing and towards the end, some stumbling.
Mr Nair, the perfect gentleman, herded his two wards home, without a murmur and departed graciously into the night, While I, now at home, slipped gratefully into unconsciousness.
The next day, in between shivering and dying under my blanket, and hanging over the loo, I discovered a slightly amazing fact. While in some twisted way I did have fun that night, it appears I am slowly and painfully growing up. And while I may have more nights like that in my life ahead of me, they are slowly growing to be fewer and further apart (thank heavens!) And the next time I decide to go for a Sex and The City night, if ever, perhaps it would serve me well to take the 'be sexy' undertone a tad more seriously!

"Home"ward Bound?

There comes a point in everyones life when they leave the fold, and try to build a life, a career - try to make something of themselves. There also comes a point in everyones life when they want to go haring home (admittedly, this point came much earlier for me than expected) and hide away from the rest of the world and let your parents make it better.
Which leads me to question - How old is too old to live at home? Once you leave, can you really ever go back? And worse, are you then destined to always be a guest in what is now your parents home?
Counting down the days to my descent on my mother's house, the general atmosphere seems to be one of apprehension and preparation - for arguements and for compromise. Yes, there does seem to be some amount of anticipation as well, but it's still a little daunting to think that perhaps your arrival may cause more problems than good..
But I'll be selfish and still go back, because even if home doesn't turn out to be 'home', it will still be the closest thing that I ve got to it.

My Foray into Blogging

Based on the advice of a friend, and inspiration from another, I ve decided to start a blog.

Now, mind you, I have no clear idea of what goes into maintaining a blog, or whether I have anything of substantial importance to write, in order to sustain one. After all, I have no clear career or profession to base it on, and as my family and friends will vouch, while I enjoy a good debate on society, marriage, sex, relationships, women, equality, divorce etc every once in a while, I feel no great compulsion to base my blog on any of these.

So, like many other first time bloggers I assume, my blog will be one of no aim or direction, but hopefully not one without substance.

I am hoping to approach this from a Carrie Bradshaw perspective. One where I'll start my morning staring out my window with a steaming cup of tea and suddenly inspiration strikes in the form of a deep, intuitive, hitherto unanswered question.. which will unleash great thoughts of monumental importance, sparking debates and challenging long ago cemented ideas.

However, if by any chance this is not meant to be, I may have to resort to talking about myself - My trials, my tribulations and (heaven forbid) my secrets.
For those of you rolling your eyes, while I realize that my secrets are of no great importance to anyone but me, I say (with a sniff and slight disdain), 'but who doesn't love a good secret every once in a while?'

But I ask of my readers the utmost discretion and minimum judgement, whatever be it that I may write in this blog.
However, as the majority of my readers will probably be Mal, my cynical mind says that may be a little much to ask. But I beg of you, hold off those rosaries, for I believe time will tell, I'm really not all that bad.

I once said to a friend that a blog is at best, a pathetic excuse to be self indulgent. But writing this, I ve discovered that nothing could suit me more. After all, I consider one of my finer traits to be, of course, self indulgence.