.. and I have to say that these adjectives are not really mutually exclusive
Nice, homely boys fall in love with the girl next door types. The girl next door types fall in love with the pseud cool looking guys. The pseud cool looking guys fall in love with beautiful,outgoing type of girls.
The beautiful,outgoing type of girls fall in love and in fact marry nice, homely boys. Where that leaves rest of them...I wonder!
PS: I am sure its not a standard rule..But yaar its my blog, its my observation.. its a free world out there..or that was what I was told!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Power of love !
He was everything my parents had warned me against! He was everything I would have asked my friends to stay away from. He changed jobs every two months. His temper and mood changed with the weather.
He could never keep his eyes away from any good looking woman on the street, even when I was with him, His friends were the street goons, the ones who made comments on everyone who walked by, who gave the thelewallahs a hard time. The kind who could find pleasure in teasing children. The kind who oggled at every woman.
I believed he was not like them, even if they were his best friends. I did not pay heed to all that was adviced against him. I was in love with him. He used to take me out on his motorbike riding it dangerously. He made me feel special. He had no one else in his life, no family that was known, no siblings. I was everything to him, or so he told me.
Fifteen years later, here we are, sitting across each other at the dining room of our two bedroom flat as our children squabble away. He talks to them patiently, trying to be the peacemaker.
The bike has long been sold. He has had the same job for the all of our married years. He is the father of my two little girls, whom he adores. His street friends have moved away from the locality, some into stable lives, others into anonymity.
I have it all made. So it seems, Did my love change him? The ambiguity of it all strikes me. Here I am, the daughter of proud parents, living a life envied by some, and approved by all. Here I am, sitting in front of the man I fell in love with. Here I am sitting in front of the man, who is nothing like the man I fell in love with.
He could never keep his eyes away from any good looking woman on the street, even when I was with him, His friends were the street goons, the ones who made comments on everyone who walked by, who gave the thelewallahs a hard time. The kind who could find pleasure in teasing children. The kind who oggled at every woman.
I believed he was not like them, even if they were his best friends. I did not pay heed to all that was adviced against him. I was in love with him. He used to take me out on his motorbike riding it dangerously. He made me feel special. He had no one else in his life, no family that was known, no siblings. I was everything to him, or so he told me.
Fifteen years later, here we are, sitting across each other at the dining room of our two bedroom flat as our children squabble away. He talks to them patiently, trying to be the peacemaker.
The bike has long been sold. He has had the same job for the all of our married years. He is the father of my two little girls, whom he adores. His street friends have moved away from the locality, some into stable lives, others into anonymity.
I have it all made. So it seems, Did my love change him? The ambiguity of it all strikes me. Here I am, the daughter of proud parents, living a life envied by some, and approved by all. Here I am, sitting in front of the man I fell in love with. Here I am sitting in front of the man, who is nothing like the man I fell in love with.
Friday, July 14, 2006
....
.. For the past few days I have been following the Mumbai help blog. I have only felt more helpless then ever, but knowing somebody is doing something is good sometimes.
Everyone I know is safe and sound (all my friends are in Bombay as I was born and brought up there!). Then again, so many people I do not know died for no obvious fault of theirs.
Then again,there were blasts in Kashmir and lots of people died. I didnt realize until this friend mentioned that somebody he knew had died in those.
From numbers on paper, to gory pictures on television. From names on the dead and injured list to the posts on blogs. We have seen it all before. We will see it again. We all say we want to stop this. If we all want to stop this..why is it still happening.
When will we find the solution or explain to this brainwashed people that killing has never solved anything. You kill my family, I will kill yours and it goes on..till we end both our lineage.
And then our friends continue the war for us..in our memory!
Everyone I know is safe and sound (all my friends are in Bombay as I was born and brought up there!). Then again, so many people I do not know died for no obvious fault of theirs.
Then again,there were blasts in Kashmir and lots of people died. I didnt realize until this friend mentioned that somebody he knew had died in those.
From numbers on paper, to gory pictures on television. From names on the dead and injured list to the posts on blogs. We have seen it all before. We will see it again. We all say we want to stop this. If we all want to stop this..why is it still happening.
When will we find the solution or explain to this brainwashed people that killing has never solved anything. You kill my family, I will kill yours and it goes on..till we end both our lineage.
And then our friends continue the war for us..in our memory!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Hello
It poured cats and dogs out there today. The thunder was indeed barking and meowing. Now there is this lull after the storm.
The air smells sweet, only thing I can hear is the birds chirp and those coloured tin machines (perhaps you refer to them as cars!) whiz by.
After rain, everything looks beautiful. Even the most boring of plants if full of life. Everything is green. The tiny drops of water balancing on the edge of the leaves make it all seem facinating.
In all, its a beautiful world. So hello, beautiful dear world!
The air smells sweet, only thing I can hear is the birds chirp and those coloured tin machines (perhaps you refer to them as cars!) whiz by.
After rain, everything looks beautiful. Even the most boring of plants if full of life. Everything is green. The tiny drops of water balancing on the edge of the leaves make it all seem facinating.
In all, its a beautiful world. So hello, beautiful dear world!
Perhaps you can help
Here is a Mumbai Help blog post . If you are having a better luck reaching phone numbers..maybe you can help!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Memories
Turning into an insomaniac..ok not really..but currently cannot sleep. Suddenly was reminded of this
one wonderful summer I had with my cousins..when I was 14 I think.
I loved every minute of it. They were all older to me..anywhere by months to a decade. It was rare..what with school and everything that we all be at the same place at the same time. But once in a while it would and we would have a great time. Technically speaking I think they thought they had a great time, making fun of me..and teasing me. Me being the youngest one. But they probably didnt realize how much I enjoyed all this teasing. I just loved all of them, and really in their own way they were giving me all this attention ( I was attention craver as a kid..maybe I still am :) ).
All in all, we had good fun. Now we are all grown up..some are married with children. And who knows if ever we will be able to hang out together..all of us at the same time, And yet these memories that we created will remain forever in our minds. And I will have company on those boring nights when insomania strikes :)
one wonderful summer I had with my cousins..when I was 14 I think.
I loved every minute of it. They were all older to me..anywhere by months to a decade. It was rare..what with school and everything that we all be at the same place at the same time. But once in a while it would and we would have a great time. Technically speaking I think they thought they had a great time, making fun of me..and teasing me. Me being the youngest one. But they probably didnt realize how much I enjoyed all this teasing. I just loved all of them, and really in their own way they were giving me all this attention ( I was attention craver as a kid..maybe I still am :) ).
All in all, we had good fun. Now we are all grown up..some are married with children. And who knows if ever we will be able to hang out together..all of us at the same time, And yet these memories that we created will remain forever in our minds. And I will have company on those boring nights when insomania strikes :)
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Just a (few) thought(s)
...I want my left and right hand to meet behind my back. But they refuse too..even though they are perfectly cordial when I can see them !
... Its a man's world. You want to fit in, be a man.. If you want to be special..be a woman !
...One can be rooted like a tree and let the scenary change around them. Or one can keep moving, like a bird..building a nest at every new place, never expecting permanancy.
In either case..Change happens.
...I admire people who can get over their broken hearts..who understand how its not the end of the world. I can not understand those who actually end their world on that account.
...Nostalgia is a dangerous things. It plays tricks on our minds. It convinces us that life will never be the same again!
... Its a man's world. You want to fit in, be a man.. If you want to be special..be a woman !
...One can be rooted like a tree and let the scenary change around them. Or one can keep moving, like a bird..building a nest at every new place, never expecting permanancy.
In either case..Change happens.
...I admire people who can get over their broken hearts..who understand how its not the end of the world. I can not understand those who actually end their world on that account.
...Nostalgia is a dangerous things. It plays tricks on our minds. It convinces us that life will never be the same again!
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