Let me explain...

So, THIS is a blog. THIS is how people type. THIS is how people delete the opening sentence and type again. So this is .. err what was I saying? OK have patience. Time please. Hmmm ... err …. Oh yeah, right, blogging. So after my epic 56th post, I lost my memory. (Anxious readers can relax. I cured myself. I hit my head against an ancient tree next to my house and tadah! here I am, this is me. True story). This is a valid reason for not having blogged, no? Yes yes of course it is. You folks can snort. It’s tough, coming up with reasons and all. People need professional qualification to list valid reasons. But not many people have it, now, do they? *evil laughter*. So all you bloggers out there who find it difficult to come up with reasons, don’t fret, coz The Great (non) blogger Shruthi is here to the rescue.*drum rolls* Presenting *trumpets* Top 5 Deadly reasons for not updating your blog *drum rolls*. The mundane- too much work, need to feed fish, facebook-ing, tweeting, Ikebana classes are passé. Without further ado, here goes the list:

Reason #1: Amnesia. Also known as “Main kaun hoon? main kahan hoon? syndrome”- a syndrome, due to which a blogger forgets everything- right from computers, internet, log in id’s to bluetooth, android, google and thus blogging.

Reason #2: Dog ate my blogpost. This is not my kinda reason, but there are dogs that gobble blogposts. Let me explain, blogger Pulakesi overhears his colleagues gossiping next to the coffee vending machine. Excitement! Harman Baweja! Himesh Reshamiyya! Shashi Tharoor (but of course his life is bollywood-ishly entertaining)! Pulakesi notes it down on a tissue paper. He comes back home. Gunda, his pet dog, finds a tissue paper lying next to Pulakesi’s blackberry. Pulakesi hates Gunda’s drool on his Blackberry. And for poor Gunda it’s a moment of ethical dilemma. Blackberry or tissue paper. tissue paper or blackberry. Gunda decides to keep the flag of his clan high, and eats the blogpost.

Reason #3: Blog Rehab. So says a blogger- “oh it’s a long story. My shrink thought I was addicted to blogging” *gasp* “hard to believe isn’t it? And he said I needed a break from blogging. *double gasp* I had to get my pocket knife out. Well the scene after that got pretty ugly and I was put in a blog rehab. Now you know why I went missing” *aww*

Reason #4: Zandu balm. Blogger comes home after a very tiring day at work. Switches on the idiot box to catch Priyanka Chopra (PC) in hot-pants (only if it’s a male blogger. A female blogger on the other hand might watch it to LOL. Everything about Khatron ke khiladi is hilarious- the way PC sways while anchoring (she THINKS its cool), PC’s perfectly manicured nails, milind soman's beard, tattoed anchor guy, PC looking terrified of snakes/roaches/spiders/ropes). Sorry I digress. So blogger switches on TV and lands on “le zandu balm hui darling tere liye.. Cinema hall hui, darling tere liye” whaaa? Who writes such stuff? Blogger is excited. He *thud*... falls unconscious. 5 weeks. no blogging.

Reason #5: Miscellaneous- Traffic jam, bank holiday, Lehman collapse, Bangalore rains, dinosaurs and of course CWG.

56

Firstly, thank you all for your suggestions. Helped me, really. My sleep pattern is 'new and improved' *clap clap clap*. Now I feel like those infomercial folks. You know those Sauna belt teleshopping programmes which are dubbed in hindi/kannada/telegu/tamil/gujarati? You have seen them right, how they have a 'before and after' expression? Same to same my expression. Jokes apart, thanks people :)

And about the whole profoundness that bothered me (yeah yeah - selfish/selfless) was due to a weird phase that I was going through. Thanks for being so kind and answering my directionless question.

Moving on, this is my 56th post! whoopeee (1030 odd days & 56 posts? err FINE laugh laugh.. pppffttt). So as I was saying , you can send in gifts, chocolates, pastries, dinner coupons.. oh wait on second thoughts send cornflakes, apples, low cal gajar ka halwa, cucumber, and other such low-fat edible items *snff*

and this song is dedicated to all you lovelies. Hope you like it :D

blah

I’m not in my best of moods today. So you may exit this page if you feel bored.

and no, I'm not PMSing

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My insomnia has reached new heights – I have started taking tips from my friends who are doctors. One of them, still doing her specialisation (sweetest doctor she’ll make), suggested that I drink warm milk and read a book (for 10 minutes) before I go to bed. She also talked about some acids and chemicals which would result in me dozing, I lost her and became a Wrackspurt victim. Anyway my ignorance about chemicals did not discourage me, I did exactly what she asked me to do; but I ended up sleeping only after finishing the book. Then she said – “read work related books”. I did that and got so bored that I had to read another book to get rid of my boredom. And drinking milk didn’t help either, guess I got more energy to stay awake. I don’t know. Tan ki shakti .. mann ki shakti and all

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People in Bangalore have suddenly become very health conscious. I don’t like it much, the awareness I mean.

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I am confused. The other day I was talking to a dear friend of mine and when we were about to say our “goodbyes/take cares/lets meet and wolf down some steak at Millers 46/return my book/dvd you moron”, my friend all of a sudden made a discerning statement -

Friend: “Shruthi, you are not selfish” me: “err…” friend: “you are a selfless fool. bye”

No, I’m not bragging. The label of being selfless is disturbing. It’s not right. I feel like a total dumbass.

Is it good or is it bad to be selfless? If I do a cause and effect analysis will I get a clear picture of all those painful circumstances I have been through because of my dumbassness? Maybe I should do that. Draw a chart and see how it fits.

Let me open this up for some debate. Which one screws you the most - selfishness or selflessness?

Love in Shimla - Final

Love isshtory

Cut to Shimla.
Oh before that you need to know what happened in Kulu. Well nothing really happened. We saw a plank with 'welcome to Kulu' or suchlike printed and our bus proceeded towards Shimla. Our itinerary read – ‘Reach Kulu’. So we did and left immediately.

As there was no possibility of finding snow in Shimla, our enthusiasm level was low. We reached Shimla sometime in the evening. I was missing River Beas. Shimla looked nice with lights and all but I just couldn’t get over Beas. This made me sulk. We reached hotel and began shifting our luggage. I was about to lift one of the heaviest bags when I had a YashRaj movie moment. A tall guy was walking towards our bus. It was hard to ignore him. He had a charismatic presence. Certain people have that effect. I kept a tight hold on my bag coz, who knows, he could have mugged us. He reached our bus, and a song played inside my head (trivia: I CAN be romantic). He was undeniably the best looking guy I had ever seen, I think (I don’t remember his face now). He looked at us and smiled. You know, one of those lopsided ones; like Milind Soman nah I’m just exaggerating. But he did smile, I remember.
Lesson number 10: I think its time we stopped obsessing over Milind Soman. He is old. He looks very old. Passé.

Nineteen year olds’ who are fed on Jane Austen and Mills and Boons can be unreasonably romantic in such occasions. A friend of mine giggled.
He said “hmm hi. Do you need help?”
I said nothing and pretended to lift my heavy bag. Few of my friends agreed. He picked our bags and walked back to the hotel. We all looked at each other and had only one thought running on our minds. “Is he staying in this hotel?” My friend broke the silence with - “Do you think he is a porter?”. We thought of using the non-existent knife on her for getting us back to reality. He disappeared into the darkness after dumping our luggage in the lobby. Yes. He was gone! Just like that. We couldn’t even thank him. I sulked some more.

Next morning our breakfast table hardly saw us eat and mostly heard us talk about the cute guy. So where was he hiding? What was he doing here in Shimla? Did he own the hotel? Or was he a porter? We didn’t see him that morning. We visited mall road, shopped and decided to return to our hotel. The sun had set several minutes ago coz it was surprisingly dark outside. The place looked very nice and you'd think nothing could go wrong. Well well to our luck there was no public transport. We had no choice but to walk. Locals were confident that we would reach our hotel in 20 minutes flat. But they were so wrong. It took us an hour to reach, not without some adventure.

There was no proper route to our hotel and we had to ask people for directions, which was not easy as there weren’t many people found on streets. We walked on the main road and saw a board with our hotel's name and directions. Happiness came. Then we had strange men in jeep follow us which made us take a diversion where we met an old lady who volunteered to take us to our hotel. We had to trust her coz we were tourists. Tourists don’t have choice. Stupid tourists.

Got back to our hotel, thanked lord of seven hills and the kind old lady. Of course we discussed about the cutie while we walked. By next day we had no hopes of finding him. Probably he was just another tourist. Or he was a figment of our imagination. Our tour operator had arranged a camp fire for us that evening. We all danced (I just moved from left to right). Other tourists were caught looking through their windows with a packet of popcorn. It must have been entertaining.

My friends and I unsurprisingly got tired of dancing and decided to click pictures as it was our last day in Shimla. We found a scenic place, a garden with lot of pretty flowers and were posing joyfully when we finally saw him. He looked better than we thought he did and was wearing an exquisite jacket (a big fan of jackets, that’s me). He noticed us and volunteered to click pictures. I just shrugged and looked around for support from swooning; well he was talking to me after all!
Lesson Number 11: My experiences with cute guys have been pitiable. I shrug or look away when they talk to me. Sample this. Don’t come to me for advice.

We all sat next to the garden and smiled goofily while he clicked our picture. We thanked him and he asked if we were having fun in Shimla. We replied something incoherent. He then enquired about our stay, my friend’s suspicion about him being a porter was growing stronger. And then he left with a wave. We giggled until Sr. S (our lecturer) spotted us and rolled her eyes. We reached our room and discussed whether his eyes were grayish blue with a tinge of brown or just gray or just blue. I lost track of shades after a while. I liked his eyes, yes, but I liked his corduroy jacket better. I should have asked where he got it from.

The following morning we narrated this incident to another friend of ours. Apparently she and her roomies were as romantically stricken by him as we were. With nothing else to do, we spent 15 minutes discussing the possibility of finding him in Bangalore. Whatever. My silent wish of a romantic encounter (a la Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaayenge) almost came true; only mine ended before it could even begin.

Love in Shimla - Part II

A tale of back-breaking bus journey, parathas and snow

A couple of months back I was cleaning my room (a very rare sight) and found a picture that made me nostalgic and I immediately called my friend. The two of us spent an hour reliving our Shimla/Manali moments and agreed that we couldn’t have asked for a better holiday. During the course of our call we remembered an insignificant incident and tadah! that’s how I got the title for my post. Err this was just to give you a background which I now feel is pointless.

Agra was our first destination and our stay was uneventful.
Lesson number 6: Do not buy miniature Taj Mahal you find on the streets of Agra. It’s extremely tacky and easily breakable.

After Agra, it was time for us to head to Manali. The moment I got off the bus, I was in love. In love with Manali. For those who haven’t visited this place, please do. It’s a b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l place. River Beas, clear blue sky, narrow trails, mountains, street food, and tall trees will leave you enthralled.

We reached Manali after a horrible bus journey. Couldn’t believe our luck or the lack of it when we were made to sit in the last row. And it didn’t help when my friend, who has a spine that’s bendable in all directions and needs constant support while travelling, sat next to me. I am sure all of us have one such friend. These earthly beings invariably find your shoulder to sleep the moment they get inside a car or a bus, eventually occupy a lot space and almost chuck you off your own seat.
Lesson number 7: Sit next to the driver; you can at least enjoy hindi film songs of 90’s. Anuradha Paudwal and Kumar Sanu singing “jaanam jaane jaa.. janam jaane jahaan..” or if you are lucky you get to listen to some of the rare ones too, which have mindboggling lyrics- “kaisa yeh ladka hai.. baatein hi karta hai.. liar hai liar hai”.

Few of us who were awake chatted for sometime and I then fell asleep, not because I was tired but it became extremely difficult for me to laugh while the earthly being slept on my then bony shoulder. Sometime in the morning at round 6 our bus stopped near an old dhabha in Haryana. Our tour operator had arranged caterers who began the job of preparing breakfast for us - bread/butter/jam. Only a loser would have eaten bread when there were hot parathas in sight. We gorged on 10 bucks aloo da paratha with a big dollop of home-made butter.
Lesson Number 8: Never share your paratha.

I don’t think I can ever forget the taste. That was the only time I genuinely liked potatoes (exceptions - yummy French fries served in Infinitea and chips bought from local Hot Chips). Finally after a very long journey we reached Manali. Cold wind greeted us and we Bangaloreans were thrilled to get our jackets, sweaters, shawls out. We generally feel happy when we see wool. I could not sleep that night; I lay awake thinking about snow. The next day we left to Rohtang Pass.
Trivia: You may notice, I used to and continue to have irregular sleep pattern. Insomnia is my middle name.

The organisers took advantage of our good nature (read: too lazy to protest) and made us permanently sit in the last row for the rest of the tour. The journey to Rohtang pass was scenic; Beas flowed peacefully and I sat next to the window. Sheer bliss. The blue-green river made my heart skip several beats... err no, in reality the sleepy bus driver kept going tad too close to the milestone. I couldn’t take my eyes off those lovely mountains and the milestone. We reached Rohtang pass.

Oh! we were ecstatic. It was feet-numbingly and teeth-chatteringly cold. But of course I just had one thing on my mind- snow. We were asked to climb the hill to reach THE place. And so we did. Did we get to see snow? Yes and no. All we saw was dirty brown patch of snow coated here and there. 200 angry college goers were all set to turn murderers. The tour operator’s promise of “snowww.. veryyy slippery also.. you will enjoy” was still ringing in our ears. Dejected we all got back, tried finding a knife in vain and sat in the bus feeling terribly hungry.

Later we hit the streets of Manali and ate mind blowing junk food.

Next post: Part III (the final one, I promise) *grin*

Glowing insults

I hopped over to Health & Glow on Sunday. Yes, I do that sometimes. It’s good to go there once in a while to get insulted. The salesgirls in H&G are taught to be offensive. Like, really offensive. Me thinks they have a section in their training programme that’s called “how to be an efficient rude salesgirl”.

So, I was scanning some random shelf, when a tiny girl came from nowhere and asked politely, in a nasal tone -“can I help you madam?” to which I replied my standard eff off “No. Thank you”. But as expected she was right there fearing I might nick things and run. I then had a moment of flashback about an incident which had taken place few months ago in the very same outlet; here goes my flashback:

Salesgirl: “Madam, you can try this madam. It improves dryer”.

A flabbergasted me thought “oh poor H&G! It has started repairing hair dryers?”

But turned out she meant “dry hair” and thrust a shampoo under my nose.

Salesgirl: Your hair is very dry madam. this is good madam..

“Are you jealous?” I wanted to ask her, instead went home and sulked. I vowed not to get insulted again.

But I never learn, do I? So here I was, once again, giving H&G more business. So the nasal voiced salesgirl went on and on about everything I picked from shelf. “Madam (nasal tone) this is verrrry nice product madam. We have 0.08% off madam”.

I was done buying things and was about to leave when she tried one last time:

Salesgirl: Madam those circles around your eyes madam.. we have this special dark circle remover cream madam.

That did it! I tuned into a monster and ate her alive (I mean, I mentally pictured this act).

I merely glared at her and walked away. I CAN snub (it’s tough, however). I grinned while walking towards the billing counter as my eyes caught a bar of chocolate and thought “you little *beep* do you have any idea how hard I work to get these circles around my eyes? Do you work till 3 in the night? and wake up at 7 in the morning? Do you? Eh eh eh?”

I bought a couple of Bournville chocolate bars thinking, “I know I have earned it”.

Love in Shimla - Part I

En Route

“Did you pack two pairs of socks?”

“I am not going to carry cold cream. Ami, you do that no?”

“Whoa! Are those Crocin tablets? Plan to set up a shop there?”

“snowwwwwww (giggle)”

These were some random sentences uttered (sometimes even in our dreams) before leaving to Manali and Shimla. The excitement was sky high and the packing list endless. My mom and sister forced me to come up with a list of things to pack, which was a task by itself.

Lesson No.1: Remember a twine rope, safety pins, mosquito repellent and a torch can complete any list.

So I added all these and much more, packed two bags and set out. My college had organized a trip to Kulu, Manali, Shimla and other must-see-places-if-you-have-gotten-off-at-Delhi-railway-station. I was with my group of friends and other college mates. How many? umm..around 200. Fun aye!

The train in which we traveled (Karnataka Express) had to accommodate 180 manic teenagers and some tweenagers along with some lecturers (yup lecturers. We had to take them along. Rules I believe). Our fellow passengers looked very nervous. They looked intimidated by the sheer racket we all created when we got in. 3 days? No way, they all must have thought. One of them was seen crying next to a stinky wash basin muttering “death.. death.. take me” (note: you know how I love to exaggerate). We found our ‘berths’ and I got a last minute do’s and don’ts from Dad. The train was about to move. I impatiently looked around for my sister. She was stuck in a traffic jam and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to see her for another 20 days. But she made it. Wheeeeeeeeee I said and exchanged hugs and some cash (working sibling=ATM. We younger one’s are so nasty *evil laughter*). After saying our goodbyes we got back to our seats and wondered how to sort the crisis that needed our immediate attention. Few of our friends were in another compartment and we had to move them. So we went around asking our co-passengers:

“err escuse Mister large man with a frown can you please shift to berth number 43, pliss?” Lesson No. 2: Never mess with such people. just smile and offer a packet of Frooti.

“um sorry, kind lady with a badly behaved child, can you take that fabulous seat number 50 and let our friend sit with us” -so on and so forth.

Even after all our pleadings and drama two of our friends ended up in a different compartment. We didn’t bother much as we had other important issues to tackle. Like dinner, for instance. So we sat down and gobbled yummy curd rice and chutney puDi with chapaatti. We failed to notice that there was a man sitting on the edge of our reserved berth and shouting very loud in a voice that could give Rajdeep Sardesai a run for his money. “Train ko kharida hai kya?” he yelled. We all took a couple of minutes to look away from our food.

Lesson No. 3: Know your priorities while traveling. Food should be your first priority. Always.

We looked up and gave one of our get-the-hell-out-of-here looks. He was upset that most of the seats were booked before he could. Our world famous get-the-hell-out-of-here look didn’t work; he kept other passengers entertained with his sulk-sulk-blah-blah. We kept ourselves entertained with curd rice and pickle. He left after sometime. We had already decided that none of us would sleep during the journey and planned to stay up the whole night. Yes, stupid teenagers. We kept ourselves awake by talking non-stop (read: bitch*ng session). But I noticed most of my friends were yawning after 11PM. I for one can never sleep while traveling so I didn’t want them to sleep. I asked them to be strong and keep themselves awake.

They left and slept peacefully.

I kept waking up from time to time, trying my best to read the names of all stations. I was on the middle berth, a difficult spot I would say, but I managed to read 'em all. Or so I thought (they were written in Hindi and my hindi reading capabilities from a distance is err how do I put it, questionable). The train was too slow for my liking and it was ~5 AM. As it was the first time that I had woken up so early in my life I thought of making the best use of it by brushing my teeth and eating some plum cake that we had packed. Hey! you feel hungry while traveling.

The whole freakin train was asleep. How can they all sleep so peacefully I wondered? With nothing much to do after eating plum cake I went back to sleep only to be rudely woken up by eunuchs at around 6 AM. Four or five of them were all around the place - *clap clap clap* “aye hero utho..” *clap clap* “haan ..haan good morning” they wished us. I needed coffee. But they kept clapping. It hurt my head. Somebody please give me coffee, I pleaded silently. For us Bangaloreans waking up to find no coffee is like going to Tirupati and not hearing MS’s Suprabhatam or going to Tirupati and not standing in queue. More claps followed forcing me to peep through my shawl. One of them caught sight of me peeping, thinking I was a guy (don’t ask me why) tried to wake me up. After s/he found I’m in fact a girl, asked me to go back to sleep. Sweet, no? I murmured ‘coffee?’ sleepily (threw in some sympathy angle muhahahaa. clever me!). “coffee?” s/he asked me with a frown and *clap clap* called the coffee chap (who had just walked into our compartment) and moved ahead to harass a cute guy who was sleeping on the ‘passage-wali’ seat (ahem.. a cute medical student. more on this later)

Lesson number 4: Don’t infuriate eunuchs. Stay calm and smile or act sleepy. They’ll help you. Really.

I thanked the kind eunuch, which went unnoticed, paid Rs.5 to the coffee chap and had my first sip of “Brooo instant coffee”. I immediately felt dizzy. I will never be able to describe the taste of Broooooo. But my fellow coffee lovers may I request you to join me in requesting Indian Railways to ban this dreadful blend of warm water, three spoons of sugar and coffee powder tin’s lid thrown in for the effect. I vowed to drink only Tea for the next 20 days, any day better than Br-ewww.
Lesson 5: You might have already guessed, yes, say NO to coffee while traveling. It.should.be.banned.

Rest of the journey was uneventful. Oh yes the cute medical student (no, he is not the protagonist of this story). To be honest I didn’t find him cute, in fact none of us did. Much to our amusement he slept throughout the journey and kept throwing furious glances at us. Well I dont blame him, coz our chatter matched the decibel levels of the train’s engine.

And thus we reached our destination.

Now, let me skip the rest of the places we visited and head to Shimla, alright. Or on second thoughts...

to be continued....

His youngest fan

Children I am back. How is the world treating y’all? You must be wondering what’s going on in my life (err say yes ok)? Apart from my work, my niece keeps me busy. A two month old bijli paTaaki is my family’s sole source of entertainment. We are yet to name her. Much to her annoyance we continue to call her by different inane names. For all you know she might be thinking “aiyo you folks! get a life and leave me alone. And switch on the fan before you leave.” Ceiling fan is her current obsession.
Anyway for the sake of blogging I have decided to name her Puttudu (meaning ‘little one’ in Kannada). That’s what we call her at home too :).

Talking about fans, guess who else likes AR Rahman? yes-yes it's my niece. This happened when she was not even a month old and I had to keep a watchful eye while Putttudu slept. [But you know in reality, my role is redundant. My niece wakes up even if I flip a piece of paper; when our dear old BMTC screeches to halt, I get all jumpy and panicky but do nothing]. It was during one such screech-startle-wake-up time, that I discovered she loved music. Yeah I know! I played Aye hairathe ashiqui from Guru and my happiness knew no boundaries when I saw her listening to it with an intense expression. That was not all, we also figured that she listened only to songs composed by AR Rahman. Wheeeee… Can you imagine the kind of joy I felt?

Now, the first thing we all do when we wake up is worship ARR. There is an empty photo frame, which I plan to fill with a scanned picture of Rahman's right foot, so everyday we assume there is a picture of his right foot and do "jota" (fold hands and pray). And if you happen to pass Malleshwaram at 6.30 in the morning you can hear groggy voices singing aye hairathe ashiqui jagaa math. I normally sing Jaage hai der tak hamein kuch der sone do (to the background music of my alarm clock- rrrrrrrriiiing *snooze* rrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnggg *snooze* rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiingggggggggggg. Dang!).

Thanks to ARR and two of his tracks, my niece promptly stops wailing and/or screaming as soon as she recognizes the prelude. For instance, she drinks her dreadfully bitter syrup, without making a fuss, while listening to this song and drifts off to la la land when we play this. She refuses to listen to other music directors. yeyeyey. More power to ARR!
When people ask- “oh-ho just like Chikki (short for Chikkamma meaning aunt, meaning me) she will also learn music-aa?” I feel like hugging them but then they add “hope she does not turn out as lazy as her chikki teehee” pffffttt grrr.

Give her a keyboard someone :p

Tag, Tagger, Taggest!

Lostworld, my blogger-twin (seriously, we sometimes think alike), has passed on the Honest Scrap Award to me. Thanks a ton girl. Dunno about the ‘honest’ part but I am sure I have loads of s'crap’ to write *wink*.

So now, the rules to claim this award are-
1.I must thank the person who gave me the award and list their blog and link it (check)
2.I must list 10 honest things about myself (err)
3.I must put a copy of Honest Scrap logo on my blog (check)
4.I must select atleast 7/ 8 other worthy bloggers and list their links (hmm)
5.I must notify the bloggers of the award and hopefully they will follow the above three requirements also (OK boss)

10 honest things about myself. Hmm..10. ten. T-E-N! hmm.. Lets see how this goes. Aah ok raiyyyyah (Bus conductor style):

1). I had a troubled childhood (hard hitting sentence that is! Brilliant start.. bhesh). So as a child I was never able to celebrate my birthday in school. Being born in the month of May (yup summer holidays), I had to go through terrible mental stress. I could never distribute Lacto King or Eclairs to my class mates. I never wore “color dress” to school. Never had my classmates sing “happy birdday dooo you”. Never did I take my ‘best friend’ around classrooms to distribute chocolates. Never! Sniff… This wish of mine remains unfulfilled.

2). As a child (Yes I want to talk about my childhood. This is my only chance okay). I was saying, as a child I was ultra silent and reserved. My then new neighbor thought my sister was the only daughter to my parents. So much for being a cute, silent and an ‘untroublesome’ kid (pssst my parents wonder if I am the same daughter of theirs. Now they just can’t make me shut up).

3). I am not fussy about food. I eat anything that is vegetarian. Junk food is preferable.

4). I love my job. No, I am not being sarcastic. I truly love my job. People think I am crazy to work for a start up. Having worked in two big organizations I have come to realize that size of a firm does not really matter. And... well I want to continue but will stop here heehee :P

5). I am not much of a shopping person. My sister dreads shopping with me coz I stress her out. I roll my eyes constantly, tap my left foot, sit in one corner and sulk, you get the drift. Having said that I lose track of time when in a book store. I never use ‘shopping’ and ‘books’ in the same sentence.

6). Music to me is like breathing. Besides, music heals me and keeps me going. It could be anything- stress, stupid fights with family/friends, depression, PMS, heartbreaks...

7). I’ll like any place that has a lake and is filled with trees. I can just sit there and do nothing. I might get bored after an hour, but once in a while my mind needs serenity.

8). I sometimes laugh for no reason. And most of the time I can’t control my silly laugh. I all of a sudden remember a funny story or an amusing incident or a silly joke in the middle of a presentation or a meeting and almost die controlling my laughter. I cough to hide it. Pretentious coughs are so obvious.

9). I can finish a Bourbon biscuit packet in flat 4 minutes.

10). Life they say needs to be taken with a pinch of salt, well I take it with a slice of lime and Tequila ..muhahahha (honestly I don't know what I am talking about. I guess I'm sleepy. but I am sure that added some flavor to my otherwise boring list)

Lost, thanks for tagging me I say. Totally enjoyed writing this post.

Tra la la la now I tag:
Maanasi – Coz I have to tag her if not an ant somewhere will commit suicide.
Vimmuuu – Coz I am sure he’ll have something funny to share.
Ani – Coz even though I know him I feel I don’t. hee confusing no. So let’s hope he’ll clear the confusion

Kanagu – Coz it’d be nice to know more about him :)

Poornima - Coz I love what she writes. Hopefully this'll inspire her to write more :)

Meet my darling

The best moment in my life was when I saw you. Little arms outstretched; eyes wide open. Your little feet pink and soft. I will never be able to describe the joy I felt when I saw you smile. Words fail me. Your smile made my day. I had to pinch myself to believe that you were here at last.

Our sweetheart. My niece- welcome to the world.

I have waited for so long to hold you. The ultrasound image of yours was not enough you see :P Yes, I’m greedy that way.
Now, I eagerly await moments which seem even more exciting. I am eager to take you out for a walk (show you off, in other words), dress you up, re-learn things I have forgotten, eat Cerelac (err I just wanna give some company) and yeah, spoil you like all aunts do (like all bratty aunts do)!

I love you.