writersblock

25!

2009-05-12T18:10:00.002+05:30

I love the way some words sound. ‘Crush’ or ‘Delicious’ or ‘Chomp’ or ‘Pyaaz’. Somehow ‘onion’ doesn’t do justice, does it?
I stop and talk to dogs, even those on the street.
I like the way a person’s mouth moves when speaking.
I can speak with my mouth shut. Hell, I can even sing like that.
I don’t enjoy drinking water.
I learnt how to whistle and blow gum before my brother did. He still can’t compete with me.
I love writing my name over and over and over and over again. I love the way the letters flow one after the other.
I like keeping blank notepads blank.
I like to keep pencils long and sharpened. Just hate writing with them. No, I love writing with them, but hate it when they get blunt and shorter.
I love the smell of crayons. And poster colour. And wet soil. And baby powder.
I want to adopt a child, a girl child, rather than have one of my own.
I thought I wasn’t crazy about shoes, but I have been proven wrong. Thank god… :)
I reuse paper. Envelopes, printouts, wrapping paper, paper bags, everything that I can.
I steal tissue paper from restaurants. And carry them around for emergencies.
I hate writing for pleasure. I do it as a job, and I do it well. But when I’m out of office, I hate to write.
I’m scared of change.
I enjoy the company of younger people more than that of people my age or older.
I like readymade meals.
I’m basically lazy. Don’t like to work hard at anything. Do it out of compulsion or because somebody is depending on me.
I can’t tell people who are bothering me to stop bothering me. I’m scared of hurting their feelings. And I end up getting hurt or taken for granted in the bargain.
I love my independence and believe in ‘Live and let live’. Anybody who breaks that code of conduct is out of my life.
I lose interest very fast. And that includes things, activities, people, places… There has to be novelty. Status quo bothers me.
I love rock, little bit of pop, loads of old hindi music, ghazals. I can’t stand hiphop or trance.
I love riding bikes.
I don’t like air-conditioning.

Absolute truths

2009-05-07T11:40:00.006+05:30

1. Last beverage: TEA

2. Last phone call: MERU CABS

3. Last text message: MANOHAR

4. Last song you listened to: DELHI, FROM DELHI 6

5. Last time you cried: LAST SUNDAY

HAVE YOU EVER...

6. Dated someone twice: YES

7. Been cheated on: OH YES

8. Kissed someone and regretted it: NOPE

9. Lost someone special: YES

10. Been depressed: SEVERAL TIMES

11. Been drunk and thrown up: ONCE, AND HATED MYSELF FOR IT

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

12. Made new friends: LOTS OF THEM

13. Fallen out of love: YES

14. Laughed until you cried: OFTEN

15. Met someone who changed you: YES

16. Found out who your true friends were: SADLY, YES

17. Found out someone was talking about you: DON’T KNOW

18. Kissed anyone on your friends list: YES :)

19. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life: ALMOST ALL

20. How many kids do you want to have: TWO

21. Do you have any pets: NONE NOW

22. Do you want to change your name: NEVER

23. What did you do for your last birthday: SPENT IT WITH MY PARENTS IN PUNE

24. What time did you wake up today: 8.30

25. What were you doing at midnight last night: TALKING ON THE PHONE

26. Name something you CANNOT wait for: TO LEAVE MUMBAI

27. Last time you saw your father: 24 APRIL 2009

28. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: NOTHING… WHAT I’VE DONE TILL DATE HAS GOT ME HERE. AND I LOVE IT!

29. Most visited webpage: FACEBOOK

30. What's your name: SONALI

31. Nicknames: (gulp) SHONU, MAU, ILANOS

32. Relationship Status: SINGLE

33. Zodiac sign: PISCEAN

34. Male or female or transgendered: FEMALE

35. Elementary: ABHINAV

36. School: ISN’T THAT THE SAME AS ABOVE

37. Colleges: FERGUSSON, SYMBIOSIS

38. Hair colour: BLACK

39. Long or short: SHORT

40. Height: 5’5”

41. Do you have a crush on someone? MAYBE

42. Ever been in love? LOTS OF TIME, I THINK :)

43. Piercings? YES

44. Tattoos? NOT YET

45. Righty or lefty: RIGHTY

FIRSTS:

46. First surgery: ON MY CHIN, WHEN I WAS 4-5 YEARS OLD

47. First piercing: EAR, AS A CHILD

48. First best friends: URMILA AND ANJALI, IN COLLEGE

49. First sport you loved: NOT MUCH INTO SPORTS, BADMINTON, PERHAPS?

50. First pet: ROCKY, OUR ALSATIAN

51. First vacation: ORISSA, 1984

52. First concert: REMO FERNANDES, PUNE, 1991-92

RIGHT NOW:

53. Eating: LUNCH

54. Drinking: WATER

55. I'm about to: LOSE MY PATIENCE WITH MEEBO.COM

56. Listening to: THE SOUNDS AND MULTIPLE CONVERSATIONS IN OFFICE

57. Waiting for: EVERYBODY TO GATHER FOR LUNCH

YOUR FUTURE:

58. Want kids: YES

59. Want to get married: YES, BUT ONLY IF I FIND THE RIGHT GUY

60. Careers in mind: TRAVEL WRITER, ANIMAL CARETAKER, DOG TRAINER, EXPLORER

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?

61. Lips or eyes: EYES

62. Hugs or kisses: BOTH

63. Shorter or taller: TALLER

64. Older or Younger: BOTH

65. Romantic or spontaneous: BOTH

66. Nice stomach or nice arms: ARMS

67. Sensitive or loud: DEFINITELY SENSITIVE

68. Hook-up or relationship: RELATIONSHIP OF COURSE

69. Trouble maker or hesitant: TROUBLE-MAKER, JUST LIKE ME :)

70. Kissed a stranger: NOT YET

71. Lost glasses/contacts: DON’T WEAR THEM

72. Sex on first date: NAAH

73. Broken someone's heart: DON’T KNOW

74. Had your own heart broken: SEVERAL TIMES

75. Been arrested: NEVER

76. Turned someone down: YES, AND FELT MISERABLE FOR DOING SO

77. Cried when someone died: YES, ALONE

78. Liked a friend that is a girl: NOPE

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

79. Yourself: ABSOLUTELY!

80. Miracles: DO HAPPEN SOMETIME

81. Love at first sight: NO

82. Heaven: IS RIGHT HERE

83. Santa Claus: I WORK IN ADVERTISING :)

84. Kiss on the first date: YES

85. Angels: MY FAMILY AND CLOSE FRIENDS

LIST FOUR FAVORITE COLORS

86. WHITE

87. GREY

88. BLUE

89. ORANGE

90. On Internet since: 1996

91. Video Game I like: DON’T ENJOY VIDEO GAMES

92. Left Alone: I PONDER, I SING, I DANCE

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

93. Is there one person you want to be with right now: NO

94. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time: NEVER

95. Wanted to kill some one ever: YES

96. Among you blog mates, whom would you like to kiss: NO NAMES :)

97. Committed a blunder and regretted later: YES, OFTEN

98. Wanted to steal you friend's boyfriend / girlfriend: YES, GUILTY OF THE THOUGHT ONCE

99. Wanted to run away from your loved ones in anger, because they didn’t listen: YES

100. Posting this as 100 Truths: ABSOLUTELY

Ye ole’ faithful

2008-01-14T18:56:00.000+05:30

It’s tough letting go. What’s been part of your life for as far back as you can remember, what you invest so much love and care into, and give so much of your life to, can one day simply disappear. And when it does, it leaves you standing at the edge of a precipice, grappling for some sort of balance and support.

Tad melodramatic, wasn’t that? Especially when the object of my affection is not some charming hunk, but our deal ole Maruti Van. Sorry to disappoint you, dear reader. Been with us since I was a kid, we finally decided to give it a fond farewell last month. Long past its prime, long past its originally planned date of retirement.

There’s a lot our sky-blue van was witness to. It used to be five of us then… aai, baba, Uday (my brother), rocky (our Alsatian) and me. Earlier, it would be just baba taking me and Uday on our Bajaj scooter wherever we went – Chanakya for movies, Nirula’s for our junk-food addiction initiation, trips to Palika Bazaar, Connaught Place, Karol Bagh for an assortment of children-to-adult clothing and accessories purchases, including my still-not-gone fascination for dolls. But with the van, suddenly the concept of ‘all of us’ came to life, again.

I could write pages after pages after pages about the many happenings with the van, but that would bore you guys. So, I’ll pick what is most memorable.

Like the jaunts to Gopinath Bazaar (Delhi Cantonment). The mall syndrome was not even heard of in those days, forget about it being a syndrome. Shopping at a regular market would be the norm. So, anyway there we would be, all five of us, dressed for an evening out. Of course, we wouldn’t take rocky out on the streets. And of course, he wouldn’t be dressed either. He had a meaner task. He was to be the guardian of the van and all that was inside. Was fun watching people start if he poked his head out of the window or barked at anyone coming even a little close to ‘his’ car.

Or like the cold January winter morning when baba dropped and me and my friend in the van to Janpath when I had participated in the Republic Day Parade, 1987. Gosh that seems so long ago. More than 20 years back… Was a typical car journey. Nothing untoward happened. Wonder why I remember that day so vividly? Perhaps the sheer chill in the air. We had to reach Janpath at 6 in the morning. How DID I do it in those days.

Then there was the holiday to Himachal. Was fun, the drive up, and down, treacherous slopes. Unfortunately we missed the snow. Or did aai-baba plan it that way?

Talking of holidays, ask the family and I’m sure we all will unanimously agree that the 4-day leisurely trip from Delhi to Pune was by far the best time we’ve had together. With a liberal sprinkling of fights between me and my brother, of course. Rocky was long gone by then. So luckily we had a window each.

On second thoughts, I wonder if aai-baba had as much fun. A sure-shot recipe for disaster is two adults and two wanna-be adults in the same car, for 4 full days. And there used to be no mobiles to play with, no discman either. Of course, we had our books. But our voracious appetite and rapid digestion of those at hand was only matched by our constant whine for sustenance. Of the edible kinds.

As I said before, I could go on forever, with each of us coming up with our own pet incidents. But that’s all gone now… sigh.

Today another vehicle has come to fill in the void. A Santro. Comfortable for five again. Did I tell you my brother is married now?

The best part about the Santro is that it’s my car… I bought it. Kind of compensates for the loss of the Van. Somewhat.

Thoughts

2007-10-09T18:09:00.001+05:30

Thoughts crowd my mind space,
Begging, pleading for release.
But the mind, with a mind of its own,
does what it please.

How does it matter how you do it?

2007-10-09T12:35:00.000+05:30

When it comes to the matters of the heart, what really works? Following somebody’s advice or your instincts? Pressing the ‘right buttons’ or being honest and yourself?

I know my friends mean well when they tell me what to say and what to do. When they tell me to not be pro-active but reactive. To act cool and disinterested. I know they care. (They wouldn’t be my friends otherwise.) But I think sometimes it is important to do what you believe is right. It is important to follow your heart. More so in the matters of the heart. Just as you might have done a million times before. Just as your 'heart' tells you to do now. It’s only by doing its bidding have you got to where you are now. And it’s a darned good place, I must say.

If it’s a series of misfortunes and discomforts that must be braved to reach higher plane, so be it. If it is heartbreaks and soul-hurts that pave the way to genuine love, so be it. And if it means putting every bit of your emotions on the block, once again, to get it all, and more, back, so be it.

Trust, belief, love… all have to come from within, have to be a part of you, before you can expect them back. Give your love out to the world; open your heart; soar; fly; be free of worries, cares and fears. And only then can you experience, truly experience, the beauty and splendour of love.

Mist-i-cism in Mumbai

2007-10-05T21:22:00.000+05:30

29 September dawned cold, foggy and sleepy. I watched myself get out of bed and ready for a 3 hour journey to Pune. Work had been a bummer the night before and I couldn't leave by my customary evening bus. Cursing and cribbing, I’d made my way home, resigning myself to a night of restless sleep. When there’s a 6 am bus to catch, I fear not waking up on time.

So anyway, there I was, trudging out, heavy-lidded early in the morning. I actually half-sleep-walked to the bus stand and tumbled into my seat. The weather outside was a bit chilly and the AC bus did little to warm me. The nip in the air was surprising, considering Mumbai’s severe lack of a winter. But it was pleasant. Reminded me of my school days in Delhi’s winter. (Just thinking about them now in the warmth of home chills my bones.) How my brother and I would brave the cruel winter morning and wait at the stop for our ‘3-ton’. All you could see through the thick swirling fog were these two pale-yellow blobs – calling them beams of light would be an insult to Edison.

But I’m digressing. Let me come back to Mumbai. I usually fall asleep even before we’re out of Chembur. For some strange reason, which would get explained later, I could not sleep. I’d had less than 3 hours of shut-eye the previous night and I was as awake as an advertising person the night before the ‘big-client’ pitch.

The mist-erious reason became clear when I reached Chembur. It was like a mini hill station. I couldn’t believe my eyes! The buildings were completely fogged from the 7th floor upwards. Navi Mumbai was even better. The view from the bridge was breathtakingly mind-blowing. All I could see, partly, was the road ahead of us and thick, flowy mist on either side. Fields of soft, puffy cotton.

8 years in Mumbai and I have never seen something like this.

I looked around and saw everyone asleep. This beautiful, quiet moment belonged to me and only me. It was my moment, my special moment. Almost like something I’d been waiting for, something I’d been brought to that early in the morning. I craned my neck for as long as I could, trying to print the image on my mind to carry it with me eternally.

It seemed to last forever. Almost forever. The bus turned the corner at Belapur and all was lost from sight. Taken by the rising sun. Taken to a place where beautiful moments stay, waiting for its chance on earth once again.

When it does, I hope I’ll be there, once again. To see, to feel, to believe.

Mist-i-cism in Mumbai. Rare.

I hate love

2007-07-10T12:03:00.001+05:30

At the outset, let me set one thing clear. I'm not complaining, however harsh this might sound. It's just something I came across while I was searching for some quotes. And I simply, completely fell in love with the words. Nobody, and I mean nobody, has ever been able to capture a heartbreak so eloquently. There is so much honesty and deep-seated anguish in those words: "It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain."

I loved the way the writer has described the ease in which we fall in love. At times, with that which is not attainable. We know it, and still we go ahead full-steam, knowing fully well that there is nothing but hurt and a deadend waiting for us ahead.

But let me not keep you any more. All of you out there who have loved and lost, who have seen the cruel side of love, who have vowed never to fall again, this goes out to you. This goes out to you, my dear friend, who rages within.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defences, you build up a whole suit of armour, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”
Neil Gaiman: English born American Novelist, Journalist, Screenwriter, Children's Author, among many

There is always a first time

2007-07-10T11:47:00.000+05:30

I just started a new job last week. It's a new place, new people, a completely new way of working. It's anything but an advertising agency... quiet, sober, serious. Never worked in a place like this. But then i thought, what the heck. There will always be a first time in everything. Incidentally, it's also the perfect timing for a change of philosophy when it comes to attacking my non-existent lovelife. A friend wrote these lines which I just decided to plagiarise.

There is always a first time

To take the first step
To learn the first word
To unlatch a cage
And free a lovebird

To scrape an elbow
To stumble and fall
To drool in deep slumber
To see a waterfall

To hide behind a tree
To watch a shooting star
To feed a hungry kitten
To lick clean a jelly jar

To discover the hidden ego
To nurse a broken heart
To try and climb with balance
First time on a horse cart

To fall in love
In hope of nothing to gain
There’s always a first time
And then another again

Energy [r]evolution

2007-07-05T15:17:00.000+05:30

Bike in Action

2007-06-19T21:16:00.000+05:30

I rode a Royal Enfield the other day. For the very first time! And was it an experience or what. Cool worli sea breeze in my face, the throb of the machine beneath and the fact that I was riding it. Yes, I’ve been a pillion rider before, but this experience is something else all together. By far the best experience I’ve ever had. Ok, discounting other activities.

This was simply mind-blowing. Bigger… better… sexier than anything. Suddenly all other bikes seem like such insignificant things. It’s one thing riding a CBZ or a Yamaha, or just any other bike. (sorry avid bike lovers, but if you’ve ridden an Enfield, you’ll know what I’m talking about).

I didn’t trust myself to kick-start it. Jittery and excited as I was, I was more terrified of the re-bound. Had a nasty one a long time ago, the scar still remains. So anyway, my friend did that for me, hopped up and I was ready to fly.

And suddenly I floundered! Damn, unlike all bikes I know, this one was exactly the opposite. The foot brake is the shifter and the shifter, the foot brake. I wobbled, fumbled with the shifter, eased the bike into the first gear and was just about to roll, when the bike stalled! Talk about embarrassment.

Tried it again, got a better grip this time and when I got going, wow!!! One round-trip to worli and back. Exhilarating! Wasn't that tough now, was it? Not at all. In fact, when we got back, I put the machine on its stand too, a feat I had thought to be impossible. I'm on top of the world. Thanks Viraj, you're the dude!

So, that's one more down. Another million things left to do.

I’m back in action. And my blog is all set to roll too.

Happy reading guys.

No rules, no game, right? Wrong.

2006-11-14T22:07:00.000+05:30

How do you play a game that has no rules? No start. No end. And of course, no middle.

Simple. Your way.

My colleague made a fantastic impression on me today. I was, as I seem to be doing a lot nowadays, complaining about the sheer lack of intelligence around me. I don’t mean the been-in-advertising-for-so-many-years-and-have-a-marketing-degree-to-back-that kind of aptitude. There’s plenty of that. A little too much, in fact. I’m talking about the ordinary, commonsense knowledge and working skills that are a basic pre-requisite for any job.

Patiently, as always, my partner told me a simple thing: ‘When all the people around you are confused, when no one seems to be able to take a stand, YOU do it. Stake claim to an idea and stand by it. Mind it though, be ready to face criticism, a lot of pressure, probing, questioning, a horde of unbelievers.’

I think today there is lot of information if one knows where to look for it. What is lacking is application of that knowledge. Or in the absence of that, an excellent packaging of what scantily exists in the mind.

It's simply a matter of changing the rules. Or, creating them.

Bittersweet symphony

2006-11-14T21:38:00.000+05:30

I met up with a friend for lunch last week. A very dear friend, well, my ex-boyfriend actually.

We were incommunicado for over a year. Just couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. And then suddenly, about a month back, we got back in touch. (He’s married, not sure about the happily part though.)

As I waited for him outside a pre-decided restaurant, thankfully not one of our earlier haunts, I was plagued by lots of thoughts. Disturbing thoughts. How will I face him? What will we talk about? Should I ask about his wife? How much has he changed? How much have I changed?

He turned up 20 minutes late. Well, that’s a start. At least some things were still the same.

We went inside, we ordered, we exchanged pleasantries. ‘Yes, work’s fine. Keeps me busy.’ ‘You’ve put on weight.’ ‘No it’s ok. I can take a longer lunch-break.’

And all along, a part of me sat on the third chair, waiting. For the fireworks, the dry mouth, the sudden thumping inside, the racing heartbeat, a warm glow.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was heartbreaking to realise that the feelings I’d had for this person had just disappeared. Yes, I’m fond of him still. But all my love just vanished, like it never existed. Not a shred of my emotions existed. It was like they were just a figment of my imagination.

Slowly the realisation dawned. He’s a friend, just a friend. Just another friend.

Should I be relieved? Should I be disappointed? I don’t know. Tell me readers.

Staying Sane

2006-11-12T13:48:00.001+05:30

It's been a month, and I’ve made no progress on my space in the cyber world. That’s cause I’ve been busy trying to scrape out an existence here.

Work’s been a killer, but that’s how it goes. As every seasoned advertising professional gets to know sooner or later, advertising is indeed 99.9% perspiration and 0.1% inspiration. Though there are days, when you doubt the numbers. Is it really 0.1%, and not less?

A junior, budding fellow in the office last week was doubting his career choice. Doesn’t give him the same kick and pounding feeling inside as he had hoped he would get.

Was he echoing what I’ve been too scared to face myself? Something’s missing. Some spark that would push me, without fail, to get to work every single day. Off late, it’s an effort getting out of bed even.

So what did I do? I sat down the guy on the bright sofa in the office reception, and gave myself a pep talk. Don’t give up. Every moment of disheartenment, every rejection, every re-work will eventually get vindicated by that one job that is sufficient for you to get the kick of your life.

Think, not that tomorrow is another day, but that today will be better. It’s another opportunity to work upon and perhaps, just perhaps, get it right this time.

Stay on it. Stay sane.

Getting started (finally)

2006-10-01T18:08:00.000+05:30

Sounds like the title of a software programme's handbook.Or the first page of the instruction manual of a new techie contraption your cubicle mate pulled out from a bag. Something you have absolutely no idea how to use. (Though I really wonder if people today need manuals. Everything is so simple, so easy. Or so they say.) Just last week I got a friend to explain to me what 'Bluetooth' is and how it works. Call me outdated, call me slow. That's what I am.

Anyway, getting back to the subject on hand. After having stayed far behind all the excitement that blogging is, i've peered through the dust and finally decided to start a page of my own. A lot of hesitation precluded this step and I did it in the privacy of my home, not wanting to make a fool of myself.

I was among the last in my college gang to get an email id. The last in my office group to get a mobile phone. (Still don't possess a laptop or an ipod.) The last to start chatting online. And today, yes, also among the last to start a blog of my own.

Yes, yes, i'm a relic of the bygone era. Suddenly realising that the more I tried not to become like my parents, the closer I ended up resembling them in their behaviour and mindsets. Wary of all things new. But still curious.

Well, but the deed is done now. And I've officially become a blogger.

Getting started.