Road Trip!

Yesterday, I went on a road-trip, after a considerably long time, and it was fun. My preferred mode of road transport is bus, though after coming to India I have developed quite a fancy for riding pillion on a two-wheeler (especially on a motorbike!) but yesterday I was in a car, with family.

We drove about an hour out of the city, to a sort-of farmhouse under construction in a place called Gaangad, which you will probably not pronounce right unless you are familiar with the Gujarati language,

As I sat by the window, silently watching the factories and farms and open fields zoom by, I lapsed into a reverie of all the many road trips I have had the pleasure of taking in my life. The 5-hour-long drives to Dad’s Kenyan hometown, Mombasa, listening to Bollywood cassette tapes (remember those?) on the stereo and munching on junk food; shorter trips to other Kenyan towns – Nakuru, Naivasha, Nanyuki, Tigoni – for day-long and sometimes overnight picnics with extended family; fun-filled school camping trips to national parks; a memorable journey to the Niagara falls in Toronto, Canada; long drives within the Greater Toronto Area on Highways 401 and 407 and others I don’t remember, with family friends and acquaintances, spotting the occasional long-haired, oozing-with-sex-appeal biker boy zoom by on a Harley and fantasizing about riding with him. I am not afraid of huge, fast sports bikes, as long as there is someone to cling to. :P

The songs that played on the radio brought back memories, and my mind sped, as if in sync with the car. Nostalgia: intoxicating, overwhelming, smile-inducing.

At the farmhouse, the first thing I encountered were animals: ducks, chickens, a horse, goats, cows, and three generations of fluffy, little rabbits. Here’s a picture of one of the youngest ones being held by my cousin:

Then, we proceeded to the actual house that’s still under construction. Two rooms are almost ready, needing just windows to be fitted. Call me absurd/silly/adolescent but the first thought that struck me when I entered the room was how it would provide an ideal setting to lose one’s virginity. A double bed in a cozy little room in the middle of almost nowhere, surrounded by the sounds of nature = romance at its best. I quickly pushed the thought away, given the sad fact that I wasn’t there alone with some hunky guy but instead with parents and a grandma and uncles and aunts and cousins and little kids, and we sat around chatting, waiting for the sun to go down a bit so that we could go out and explore.

Explore we did: my cousin and I walked to a pile of beautiful golden hay and plopped down on it, joking about the scenes in Hindi movies involving the hero and heroine reclining on the dried stuff on the back of trucks they hitch a ride on. We then sat on the swings and swung to our hearts’ content, for hours. I loved the cool wind on my face and in my hair, and I remembered a time way back in primary school when I had spent every recess and every lunch hour on a tire swing, wanting to go higher and higher and higher. An early sign of my ingrained escapist tendencies, I suppose, wanting to reach far, far away from the world below my feet.

At night, we sat and ate, talking as we saw the trucks on the highway, swatting away the insects that hovered over our heads.

My little cousin, on learning from her dad that I actually write stories rather than merely read them, questioned me about what my stories are about. I was speechless, because obviously I could not explain to a six-year-old that I write about romantic love and sex and the pressures of young adulthood. Luckily, she moved on before I could think of a quick cover, and told me about the stories she’s read at school, Cinderella in particular. I wish I could tell her Prince Charmings don’t exist, but then again, if someone had told me that when I was little, I would probably not have believed them, so its better she grows to find out on her own. It struck me yesterday, how there is nothing as comforting as a child’s fragile yet firm embrace, and I wondered what it would be like, to have one of my very own, possessing my genetic material. Fascinating, at the very least.

Here are some not-so-good pictures of the sunset and the moon:

That's the moon at dusk! (it was right opposite the setting sun)


The other smaller lights are reflections from approaching vehicles on the highway behind me, which I think looks kind of cool, in a weird way.

It was a refreshing getaway, if only for a few hours, and I hated returning to the city and its smells of pollution and junk food and all things artificial, and its sounds of belching, honking vehicles and loud people, and its innate negativity and defeating sense of frustration and futility.

I wish I could travel more often; it seems to be one of my primary needs. I will, once I have the money.

The magic of just one date...

I watch the video of the popular song from the super-hit movie we went to see, and it makes me stall, part of me wanting to change the channel so that I won't have to think of that day, and another - greater - part wanting to watch on, to mentally relive those moments we shared.

"Aal iz well' the singer declares in 'Indianized' English, and I smile at the memory of you and me at the cinema, you focusing on the movie, me secretly gazing at you, somewhat fascinated by the dance of the light from the screen across your features., acutely aware of your arm grazing mine, ever so slightly on the common armrest between our seats. Too bad it was winter and we were both wearing full-sleeves; I would have liked to feel your skin against mine - it would have given me goosebumps, I'm sure.

I remember that first time you'd called me, to fix the date; how awkward I had been, apprehensive. But you had persisted, expertly carrying along the conversation, inciting some level of comfort within me. I am the older one between the two of us, but you're the more mature one.

I remember how anxious I had been about meeting you, almost terrified, for no explicable reason, and I remember how quickly that fear had melted away, magically giving way to an easy comfort, once we got talking and I realized what wonderful company you make.

I remember how unabashedly I had lied at home in order to come and see you, and how strangely thrilling that had been, and I remember how confused I had been about what to wear, my self-consciousness a gazillion times more pronounced than usual.

I remember how my heart had fluttered on seeing you, and how I came to love the sound of your voice and your differently accented Hindi, and I remember how elusively special it felt to hear my name uttered in that unique way.

I remember how you made me laugh and chattered on and on, as if you'd known me forever, and I remember my irrational, distracting thoughts of wanting to kiss you, or to at least hold your hand, my stubby fingers intertwined with your long, narrow ones.

It passed too soon, that first date, and then you were gone. Like a quick whiff of wind on a stiffing summer's day, like a dash of unseasonal rain that leaves one longing for more, futilely.

I continue to long, feeling somewhat stupid, for you are not my boyfriend, and you are not going to return, and my crazy, obsessive mind reels as I wonder why you came into my life, and where exactly we stand - a slight bit more than "just friends", I like to think, yet much less than "more than friends" - what is this strange no man's land we tread upon? I tread carefully, for I fear there are land mines lurking around, just waiting to explode and blow up in my face...

The song draws my attention again, and I can't help but smile at the irony. All is so not well.

55 Fiction #9: "Dilemma"

She shuddered slightly as the aeroplane took off, guilt gnawing at her insides.

Today was her engagement ceremony. Yet, she was here, fleeing to a new city, running from her parents’ expectations and wishes.

At the crossroads between family and career, she’d picked the latter.
Had she made the right choice?

Only time would tell.

School's Out!

Most people know that I'm a die-hard Shahid Kapur fan girl (if you didn't, you do now!), so it's only natural that I went to watch his latest flick, Paathshala, on the first day of release itself. (First show too!)



It was a kind of different story but it did lack quite a bit from the direction point of view. I was expecting something GOOD but it turned out to be pretty mediocre and I think the main premise got lost somewhere in the second half. There were also too many loose ends and loopholes to really make it a movie that I would review in detail, so all I'll say is that its worth watching only if you're a Shahid fan. (Oh, and there's also a cute newcomer by the name of Sunny Singh!)
I do quite like the music though, - Aye Khuda, Bekarar, and Teri Marzi are all my current favorites, but the best of the lot has to be the romantic number 'Mujhe teri aankhon ki gehrai main doobne de...Mujhe teri baahon ki jannat main khone de..'
Do Youtube it; it's oh-so-cute!
And the movie brought back fond memories of my own Paathshala - Premier Academy - which lies far, far away on Forest Road, Nairobi, Kenya. But that is the stuff of another post altogether...
For the time being, I wish I could go to a school where you can sing and dance with teachers like Shahid! Naturally, I would fail due to lack of concentration. :P

55 Fiction #8: "The good 'old' days?"

He stood before the school and longed to return to it, live those years all over again. With his four best friends, and with her.

Especially with her. This was where it had started, their lifelong romance.

Too bad she hadn’t come revisiting the past with him.

Too bad she was dead and gone.

A Bollywood Obsession!

I recently watched the 1988 hit film, ‘Qayamat se Qayamat tak’, which i had wanted to watch for a long time after hearing several good reviews from friends. I’ve hardly seen any movies from the Eighties and I used to mistakenly think that they were all loud and garish with hackneyed plots and unbelievable characters, but seeing Aamir Khan and Juhi Chawla’s debut film changed all that. I loved the innocent simplicity of the love story and the blatantly portrayed veracity of family feuds, and especially the ending, which was rivetingly realistic and ironic rather than conventionally ‘happy’.

I was also surprised how I could relate to the character of Rashmi, an eighteen-year-old of an era when I was just an infant. Surely, I hadn’t expected any similarities between a character of the Eighties and my 21st century self, yet found plenty. Of course, she was starkly traditional, with her thick, long hair and modest Indian outfits, and her inability to stand up to her dominating family or be disrespectful to anyone at all, but there was an unmistakable streak of modernity in the way she made the first move to woo the guy she falls for, wisely reaffirming that she had no expectations because – as she rightly points out - ‘agar hum kisi ke lie deewane hogaye to ye koi zaroori to nahi ke wo bhi humare lie deewane hojaye’.

I loved how she boldly ran away from home with the help of her best friend, and I found a reflection of myself in how she tearfully admits to Raj – her boyfriend – that she doesn’t know how to cook anything at all. All in all, the movie is an excellent juxtaposition of tradition and modernity that opened my eyes to the strange fact that the ‘tens’ (as I think the current era is called) are not ALL that different from the eighties. I may be an exception to the rule but there were definitely parts of my beliefs, desires, principals and ideologies in Rashmi, the heroine whose unwavering faith in love leads her to her untimely last breath.

I could write more on the theme of the movie but this post is about how Juhi Chawla’s elegant portrayal of Rashmi got me thinking of all the other leading ladies of Bollywood whose screen avatars I’ve been able to relate to, admired, and sometimes idolized.

I’ve loved Hindi movies from a young age, ever since I was old enough to understand them. And there have been innumerable characters that I have identified with, grown with, and, most notably, seen Bollywood transform with:

From Kajol’s celebrated Simran in DDLJ, who begs her father to let her have just one fun trip abroad with her friends before she marries a boy of his choice and settles down in life, to Preity Zinta’s vivacious, self-sufficient, self-assured, Ambar in Salaam Namaste who lives life her on her own terms and sticks to her decisions no matter what.

From Hum Aapke Hain Kaun’s Nisha (Madhuri Dixit) who selflessly decides to sacrifice her love for the sake of her deceased sister’s family, to Kya Kehna’s fun-loving Priya who courageously battles the society after she is impregnated and dumped by the man she wanted to spend her life with.

From the go-getter Mili (Urmila Matondkar) of Rangeela, to the fearless warrior queen Kaurvaki (Kareena Kapoor) of Asoka.

From Mohabbatein’s Ishiqa (Shamita Shetty), who appears to be a tomboy on the outside but is just another sweet, romantic girl on the inside, to Vivaah’s quiet, archetypical-Indian-bride, Poonam (Amrita Rao), whose world revolves around the man she is due to marry.

From Na Tum Jaano Na Hum’s elegant, romantic Esha (Esha Deol) who fully trusts in the faceless pen-friend she’s fallen in love with, to Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na’s feisty, carefree Aditi (Genelia) who isn’t even sure what exactly love is supposed to be.

From Mujh Se Dosti Karoge’s quiet, self-sacrificing Pooja who ungrudgingly lets go of her childhood sweetheart for her best friend’s sake, to Hum Tum’s ambitious, no-nonsense Rhea who prefers to focus on her career and leave other decisions to her parents.

From Urmila Mantodkar’s obsessive lover act in Pyar Tune Kya Kia as the girl who just can’t let go of the man she loves despites knowing that he’s married, to Rani Mukherjee’s introspective avatar in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, who can’t help but worry that she may just meet the love of her life AFTER getting into an arranged marriage.

From Aishwarya Rai’s scintillating dance as Mansi in Taal, to the classic beauty of Vidya Balan as Lalita, learning how to play the piano and compose music (and fall in love!) in Parineeta.

From Karisma’s Nisha in Dil to Pagal Hai, who resigns herself to the fact that Rahul just isn’t The One for her, to Amrita Rao’s shy, studious, plain-Jane Payal in Ishq Vishk who refuses to compromise on her traditional values, even for the super-cute Rajeev whom she has loved since childhood.

From Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’s tomboyish Anjali who stuns everyone - most notably her college best buddy, Rahul – by her graceful transformation from ugly duckling to beautiful swan, to Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham’s chatterbox Anjali (again!) who impresses the polished American-return Rahul (again!) with her classic Indian beauty, exuberance, simplicity, and charm.

From the bubbly, effervescent Zara who makes a statement with her song ‘hum to bhai jaise hain, waise rahenge’, in the epic Ibdo-Pak love story, to the secretive Bittu of Delhi 6 who dreams of escaping her claustrophobic old-fashioned family atmosphere to make it big as a singer.

From Yaadein’s conflicted Isha who is torn between her intense feelings for Ronit and her father’s wishes, to Kaminey’s feisty Sweetie who knows exactly what she wants and has no qualms to go out there and make it happen.

From Namaste London’s jazzy Jazz aka Jasmeet Kaur, who has come far, far away from her Punjabi roots and lets her heart rule her head no matter how many people she has to hurt along the way, to Love Aaj Kal’s practical Meera who picks her career over love but remains best friends with her ex, only to end up realizing that she can’t live without him.

From the love-struck, marriage-obsessed Geet of Jab We Met, who makes a mess of her life by impulsively running away from home to be with her beau, to the career-oriented Aisha of Wake Up Sid who seeks to find her place in the world through her writing.

From the one-hit-wonder Sandali Sinha’s character Priya in Tum Bin, to the versatile Bipasha Basu’s no-nonsense, no-make-up, sharp-as-a-razor Nishiganda in Corporate.

From Preity’s stubborn, fed-up-with-the-world-but-eventually-softened-by-love role in Kal Ho Na Ho, to Rani’s hot and sexy avatar in Ta Ra Rum Pum who knows fully well how to attract, enjoy and sustain a guy’s attention.

From Phir Milenge’s Tamanna who puts up a brave fight against HIV and a world that discriminates against her because she is ill, to Karthik calling Karthik’s Shonali who represents the independent, urban Indian girl who is not ashamed of having a romantic past and is on the lookout for that perfect guy.

From the demure Parvati of Devdas to the sprightly one of Dev D.

From Sushmita and Tabu in Filhaal, to Priyanka and Meghna in Fashion.

They have all been characters that have left a mark; characters that I would have loved to play had I been an actress; characters that I like imagining myself as; sometimes wishing I could swap lives with them, if only for those two-three hours that the movie runs. They have been my most favorite female characters from the two decades worth of Hindi movies that I have watched, and they have fuelled my undying, unfathomable Bollywood obsession!

55 Fiction #7: "Heights"

She looked down and felt an unexpected rush of fear. Could she really do this? She had prepared long and hard, but still felt nervous. However, there was no option. She HAD to jump.

The wind whipped against her face as she stepped forward. And let herself fall.

What thrill!

Her first solo sky dive. 

Fool

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Inspired a little bit from the brilliant movie, He's Just Not that into You, and a little bit from my own life, here is a fictional take on the quintessential head versus heart conflict that girls often face when it comes to matters of love. The heart speaks in crazy, dangerous red while the head speaks in calm, basic blue, and descriptions are in green:

The twenty-something, single-and-eager-to-mingle girl is at the bar and has just been approached by a fairly good-looking guy, when the internal dialogue starts:

He's cute!

Yes, which is why you should stop right there and run in the other direction. Fast.

What? Why would I do that?

Because cute = dangerous. And you should know that well by now.

Oh come on, just LOOK at him – those twinkling eyes, the cool hair, and that gorgeous smile! What’s wrong in admiring him?

Ha, wonder where I’ve heard that before. BE CAREFUL, please!

Geez, you’re acting like he’s some sort of escaped convict! What’s there to be careful about? He’s being so sweet to me… sigh…

RED ALERT!!! The sweet ones are the ones you should DEFINITELY  run from. If he’s being sweet to you, chances are that he’s probably like that to every other random girl he’s ever come across. Listen, I’m warning you because I care. I know all the crap you’ve already been through; I don’t want you to hurt yet again.

Silence

Uh, hello, heart?! Are you listening?

Huh? Oh, yeah…sorry, I was just thinking whether I should ask for his number.

FOR WHAT? You will do no such thing, you FOOL!  

Oh come on, I’ll just you know…call him up sometime, chat…or text. He’s just so nice!

He’s a Grade-A flirt, that’s what. And you’re a grade-A FOOL to fall for such charms yet again.

You know, if you want me to listen to you, you shouldn't insult me. Paranoid preacher. Don’t you want me to be happy?

Of course I do! That’s precisely why I advise you so much, but you have a will of your own, don’t you? A FOOL's will which always stops you from listening to me. 

I do listen sometimes. Remember, last time...?

Yeah, only because that one’s girlfriend had turned up just in time to make you realize how he was so smoothly taking you for a ride.

Annoyed silence.

Look, I only tell you to keep away from boys like this one here because he has all the markings of making you deliriously happy first, and then making you free fall down, down, down into the depths of despair. With no parachute or safety jacket. You’ll end up broken, trust me, I’m the analytical one between the two of us; the one who can logically predict the future.

Takes number.

WTF are you doing? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?

Relax. I just want to be his friend, o.k? 

You say that EVERY single time! And then, a few weeks down the line, you’ll be all desperate and tearful because he won’t be responding to your messages or calls or the utterly FOOLISH, not-so-subtle signals you always use.

I know you’re right, kind of, but I had to do this. This guy seems different. Who knows, he may be The One!

Brain goes into a sulk and refuses to speak further.

Oh well, if you must…I could anyways use the peace and quiet.

Two weeks later. . . 

F**k, brain, I need your help. I f***ed up; I’m SO sorry. Please talk to me!

(all innocence) What happened?

I’m a mess! I can’t focus…he NEVER calls!

You never listen to me…

I know, but come on, skip the ‘I told you so’ drama. I’m miserable as it is. Why can’t any guy like me?

There ARE guys who like you.

Yeah, but I don’t like them, so fat lot of difference that makes.

Yes, you have a thing for chocolaty, grade A Casanovas who live to flirt and flirt to live.

Aw, come on, he’s not that bad…

And then you actually defend the jerks even after they give you enough crap to overflow every gutter of the world. Are you seriously related to me, you FOOL?

Yup, you control me and vice versa, so we’re intricately related though it’s hard to believe. We’re so opposite.

Yeah, I’m smart and you’re just -

A FOOL, I know, o.k! Have your ego boost but please help me out, for god’s sake!

Well, you know the drill. The only way out now is to find reasons to NOT like him.

WHAT?  But he’s SO CUTE! I adore him!

Shut up and think, fool. Nobody is perfect, so there are bound to be things you don’t like about him…

Ok, well…I guess he is kind of short. I like my men tall and strong, just like my coffee.

Tall, strong, and rich, just like coffee, I think, the full criteria is.

Bah! How materialistic; I don’t care about money, as long as he’s caring.

Right, as if any of the bozos you usually fall for even know the definition of caring.

Good point. Another negative – he doesn’t really care for me, or he would return my calls. 

Exactly. That should be enough to smarten up and move on.

But he’s SO CUTE.

Here we go again. You’re out of order. I might as well not talk to you if that’s all you can think of.

Ok, sorry. Another bad point is that he’s had a lot of girlfriends. Goes to show he’s a player…

Excellent point. Now, THAT should be enough to just forget all about him.

Still doesn't change the fact that he’s cute. And that he was flirting with me.

The key word here being ‘was’.

So? Maybe he’s just gotten really busy with work or something. I’m sure he’ll get back to me.

Who is he, the President of the United States, that he’s so busy he can’t reply to any of the dozen messages you’ve sent him?

Silence.

Aw come on, don’t sulk. He’s not worth it, you know that...

Why does this always happen to me?

Because you’re a FOOL and you let it.

Yes I am. But why do men do this all the time? If they’re not interested, why do they flirt and lead me on in the first place?

Because flirting is equal to fun for them. It’s silly feminine hearts like you that get all emotional and attached.

"Sentimental", he calls it.

Yep, exactly.

I hate guys; they mess with my head.

Haha, I’m the head in this scenario. And I don’t let anyone mess with me. You’re the one who’s messed, foolish heart.

Yeah, yeah, ok. But it’s not fair. They shouldn’t play with my feelings like this; it hurts.

It’s in their genetic make-up: try and flatter every nice woman they meet and then, when it comes to commitment, run for it.

Genetic make-up? How do you know?

Because I’m very well read, of course.

So what’s the genetic make-up of women, then?

They seek to form more lasting, emotional bonds rather than superficial ones. You’re a classic example.

Hmm, you’re right.

Of course I’m right! When am I ever NOT right?

You have a major ego problem, you know.

I’m allowed to have it. I’m the most highly developed organ in the history of evolution, after all!

What about me?

You’ve always been the same. No change, no improvement. No wonder you’re so PRIMITIVE at times!

Primitive?

Archaic. Crude. Stuck in an early stage of development that makes you rather impulsive and prevents you from being clever and thoughtful like me. 

I simply act according to what I FEEL.

Foolishness! In today’s world, you gotta be calculative.

How?

Well, for instance, in your case, you should have learnt by now that all cutie, flirty guys are a waste of time and tears. But no, you never learn anything from past experience. Because you haven’t evolved.

Why is that, though? Why haven’t I changed at all over millions of years, like you?

Silent for once

Something only changes to get better, right? When there is room for improvement? I haven’t changed ever, so that means that I’m perfect the way I am?

What rubbish!

Not rubbish, brain, logic – the thing you’re best at. If I haven’t evolved at all, developed in any way over millions of years of existence, then that means that I don’t NEED to change. Because I’m best this way.

Well, err, as much as I hate to admit it, that actually does make sense…

Of course it does! I may not make a lot of sense on the outside, especially to you, but at a deeper level, I always do. Because I don’t think; I just feel. Sure, I may do some very foolish things a times, on impulse, but that is because I only understand the language of love, which doesn't have any room for questions like ‘why?’ or ‘what’s in it for me?’. 

It’s the simplest, most lucid form of communication that ultimately – even if it's after a lot of pain and turmoil – leads to the best kind of happiness and peace. And that happiness is what gives you - the brain - positive energy to fuel all your brilliance. And it gives all the other organs the energy they need to work best. So, you see, I’m perfect this way, a blissful fool, you can call it, and that’s why I’ve been the most CONSTANT organ in the history of evolution rather than the most highly developed one like you! 

The brain, like a true FOOL, is speechless for once. 

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55 Fiction #6: "A Strange Bond"

She cradled her newborn close, tears of joy streaming down her face. No one had come to congratulate her, but she was glad for the privacy.

‘How could it be so beautiful?’ she wondered. ‘And how could she feel such sublime love for it?’

This tiny replica of the monster who had raped her.