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.