To my classmates...with love.

I hate moving on. I get very comfortable in the scheme of things and when the time comes to leave it all behind, i just want to bury my head in a pillow and weep till it leaks. I frankly never expected my 3 years of graduation in Ruia to be so much fun.
I have a notorious memory. I forget names, faces and unfortunately for me..people. It doesnt mean I dont care. I do. Very much. If you bump into me and tell me "Hey remember me? i shared a bench with you in 3rd standard!" , I'll be more than happy to gallop around town with you reliving old days that i suddenly remember. No one's perfect.
So i figured if I were to run into some of my undergrad friends after years and they suddenly start claiming that we shared dabbas I should atleast have a rough sketch of what they are like. So as a guide to self, I'm listing a few darling friends of mine who i'd love to run into when I'm grey and old...


1) Krupa (i cant spell her last name) - My lab partner. I mention her first because she deserves the honour. Its not easy sitting in such close proximity to me in any kind of a lab. She was actually really scared of me...but she masked it most beautifully. I think in the course of time became more non-chalant than she actually was, trying so hard to be immune to my antics. She made all the notes, lent me copy from her journal, did all the gram stainings and ALWAYS picked up after me. My journal (yes i have left it behind several times), my empty notebooks and my stationary. Whenever I did my work fine, i used to look up at her expectantly and she used to reward me with a half smile. as compensation, i used to sincerely compliment her choice of hair clips. Thanks for bearing with me (hugggggggg).

2) Anandi Rajan- The class pervert. Mental age 4. Actual age 13. She could turn anything into a dirty joke. She was the first one to spot the scandolous fine print on my t-shirt :x
We've had many happy hours gossiping and being silly in the lab. and ofc, she's my partner in crime in destroying spoiled agar plates :D. It was a passion of sorts for us...Squishing agar. Never had much to do anyway... She has the most varied collection of ear-rings...which include the hot pink ones that she never wore after akshay and I almost made her cry for wearin them :)
She's soo full of hugs and such a child that you simply have to be fond of her. Was great having you around :)

3) Richa Palekar- The class bully. She could shut anyone up with her snarls. Best to agree with whatever she says if you dont want your eyes gnawed out. Love her boots...those pointed hunterwali boots. She's bigtime into fashion but the nose-ring gig never comes off :(...first it was a septic infection and then tuberculosis..who'd have thought! She's almost elder-sister like when she's constantly picking up after me and safely storing my books lying around and patiently waiting for me to realise that i dont have them..and when finally i'm on the verge of tears she calmly hands them over to me. Such a darling! Known for the loudest laugh and the fieriest tongue. and ofc sexy bond-girl hair cuts :D

4) Joey Nambiar- my penguin pillow!! apart from squishing lab gels i also indulge in squishing joey's arms, much to her chagrin. She's the sensible one. Always calm and composed when she's not being unreasonable and yelling her curly head off at some poor bastard. She gives the most amazing b'day gifts (making a mental note here to invite her to all the parties). She writes really really well and i so badly hope she'll make it big in the literary world some day...so that i can proudly strut around saying " i used to sleep on her arm in class" (squiiiissshhhhhhhh)

5) Anisha Zaveri- The class nerd. She's THE nerdiest-coolest girl i've ever seen. I really dont understand how she does it all. Im sure she flicked Hermione's time- turner. I mean... how could anyone possibly study their ass off from scary looking books that the rest of the class is too scared to open, read non-microbiology science so avidly, read and appreciate other kind of literature, be so so good with words, be a really creative photographer without prior training, be aware of TV shows like "rakhi sawant ka swayamwar", be a hit with boys and still find time to be incredibly sweet? (I ran out of breath just listing the things she does). I'd say it like anisha would - "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ....you are awesome only".

6) Akshay (kumar) Pai- My best friend. i love him sooo much. Now I know i'll always have him around ...because well... he just doesnt have much choice! I'm soo happy I met him and bugged him the very first day about PG Wodehouse and completely ruined my chances of being his friend :D. But we got along all right. He also doubles up as my wallet. Plus he's the only guy who genuinely thinks i'm hot :D yayyyyy. Muuah muuah. The most patient listener. Non-judgemental. He's also my relationships -advisor sort of..but I dont think its working out that well . But he's always around to bitch about the exes..so its ok! :D Will miss hin lotss re...esp the free food and his mum's pasta!

7) Nikita Mehra- My soul sister. TY would not have been half as fun without her. Her hair is annoyingly all over the place and i wonder how she finds her way around with the strands blocking her view. She's the first one to get my dirty jokes..and she enjoys them too. She also, like me, hates biochemistry and together we have wondered many a time just what does anisha
see in it. She's really bright and all...just a little confused...ok a lottt confused..about books and boys alike. She makes good use of the lectures though. While we sleep..she writes crisp poetry that we can giggle to when we finish our mid-morning siestas. She's worse than me in the lab..if that was ever possible. She's such a disgrace to microbiology...I'm sure Crick turned in his grave several times during this year... but meh who cares.. as long as the lab's still standing. :P
and oh yes...she believes in bathing her computer with hot milk once in a while for good luck. HUGGGGGGGGG :D (you know i love you and though i mean all this..i dont really mean it right?)

snifff...i'll miss you guys soo much. WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THE T-SHIRT.

Been just too long....I simply couldn't study unless i blogged...i have plans for a better post but no time...but I simply must blog now...so here goes...
A year ago, my beloved friend bought me the trademark "I (heart) NYC" t-shirt from New York. It was 3 sizes too large, but i loved it. Chandler sported one in F.R.I.E.N.D.S ...I told my myself "its Meg Ryan beautiful!". I was elated about my "gift from America"
Last night mum made me hang the washing. This t-shirt (formerly white...now yellowish) was the last to go on the rope. It was inside out. i happened to stare at the label.
"MADE IN CHINA" it said.
Mom found it funny. I did not.

Terror.Undiluted.

Amidst the light chatter of the elite and the soft tinkle of silverware, the ugly crackle of gunshots. Dinner is interrupted....by terror. Dapper men in suits and women in expensive pearls
become the targets of indiscriminate bullets. Evil grips the iconic buildings of the country's financial capital, strenghthening its hold every passing second...vanquishing everything that stands in the way. Elsewhere in the city, rivers of blood filled with human jetsam flow freely. People watch in horror the city's first war...perhaps not the first..but first of its kind. The night sky is ablaze with fire...Lucifer's fire. Bombs go off every few minutes. Unbelievable confusion. Media feasting on the police's inability to control the war... vulture-like. The courageous are put to the ultimate test...and lost. A heavy loss. Irreplacable. Bullets find more flesh. The City awake...watching...egging on the police while sitting in the comforts of their homes. The ordeal seems never-ending. Children orphaned. Wives widowed. A Mother's heart breaks. Finally, after 60 hours of intense combat, Evil is vanquished. People breath again. They rejoice. Those who lost their loved ones cry. Those who care also cry.One tear for each person dead. 163 tears in all. Candles lit. Vows taken. Heroes saluted. Questions asked. Answers pending. Politicians stripped naked. Their ugly game exposed and resented
But will things change? Or will this great city move on with an added scar of terrorism? is this really the end peoples' tolerance? Are they finally going to stop ranting about the so called "spirit of Mumbai"? Or will our life go on because our family escaped this deadly game this one more time? I think we know the answer.

From Cool To Dumber

1. 
   Quite recently a person very close to my heart acquired a significant other. I was happy for her and everything, but eventually the thing I perpetually feared happened. I lost her. The defeat was more bitter because I did not even know who I lost her to. I’m sure he’s a nice boy. But I’m just happier hating him.
   Things reached a point where I thought our friendship was in joepardy. So I confronted her, she guilt-tripped me (another thing I predicted) and now we’er back on square one. The situation on square one by the way is such: she’s frolicking with that buster, while I’m reminiscing about the days when she was still my serene-faced, quirky, essentially non-soppy, forever on the phone with me best freind.
   While I was listing out things to her that have changed since we hit adulthood, I started realizing just how much I have morphed into an idiot. Then I felt sorry for her as she must have gone through the same thing. Though I certainly feel the same towards that ill-fated blighter, my feelings towards her have slightly mellowed. So, I made a list if things I think have changed about me that really shouldn’t have. Everyone knows how I am now. Here’s how I was when I was 13-
   
   1. I wore over-sized shirts that covered my hips, sometimes my thighs.
   2. My dad often confused my wardrobe for his.
   3. I was blissfully over-weight and kept at it. (I still am fat but not very happy about it)
   4. I had no idea eye-lash curlers, pimple zippers and nail filers existed. I had heard of lip-gloss though.
   5. I wasn’t in a relationship with a computer screen.
   6. My idea of fun was definitely not taking random quizzes on social networking systems (read: whatflavour ice- cream are u?, what Disney romance are u?). Even if I did take these tests, I wouldn’t have displayed my results. I had my pride.
   7. If a boy I liked did not notice my new dress, it did not mean that he thought I was a pug-face. And it certainly was not the end of the world.
   8. I wrestled boys and enjoyed it in a non-sexual way.
   9. I only had one pair of shoes, in black so that they went with everything I owned.
   10. I used to step out of the house with oil in my hair. Yes, I did.
   11. I didn’t give a damn about a lottttt of things.
   
   So there. What I would give to revert to my old self? Every bit of the very little I own today.
   

A Walk To Remember

A waddle for a walk and an empty wallet describe me the best. The other day, I decided to take on the world on a pathetically empty wallet, not my first time. But I didn’t know what I was in for. I had rs. 16. 50 exactly in my pocket. That would more than cover my ride back home. I was happy and content. Then disaster struck. The boy called.

Now a bit of a background on the boy before I plunge into the unfortunate events that unfolded that day. He is a boy of a calm demeanour, with large brown eyes and a voice that makes me melt. He is in constant need of a shave. He can be funny when he doesn’t intend to be. He doesn’t wear a watch, hence never comes on time. If I offered him two identical apples, he wouldn’t know which to choose. This indecisiveness extends to almost every aspect of his life. He seldom takes me seriously. He thinks I’m remarkable.
So this boy called. Only to tell me that he urgently needs some money for his visa preparation. He was falling a few rupees short. To be precise, Rs. 20. He asked me to get the money. Now he’s in a far-flung place called Haji Ali. I know Mumbai as well as I know Macedonia, which isn’t much. So I ask him to come to matunga. This blighter comes, but in a cab, shelling Rs. 80 of the precious Rs. 180 that he has. Now he’s left with Rs. 100. add to it the Rs. 100 that I borrowed from my friend. That about covered his costs. But we were now left with only Es. 16.50 to travel to Haji Ali and then back home in Thane. Wow! I robbed a friend of Rs. 10 to fortify our resources further. So now its Rs. 26.50.
It was a hot day. I had spent the lectures in a stupor. I was looking forward to some fun with this very chap. Then what made me accompany him on this task? Well.. its as simple as this- I won all the thumb fights and most verbal battles but lost I my heart to him. I had pledged my love to this baffled little thing. He had my undying trust. And so on and so forth. In fact the only thing I didn’t do was write a love song and mail it to him on gaudy pink paper. So yeah.
As a mark of my undying love for the object of my affection, I accompanied him to the visa centre. We traveled to mahalakshmi using his smart card… so saved money there. On reaching mahalakshmi we realized we’d have to walk it out to the mahalakshmi temple where the office was as we didn’t have enough money for even a bus let alone a cab. We reasoned “mahalakshmi temple” would not be too far from “mahalakshmi station”. How wrong were we. So with the sun beating down on our poor backs, we started the 2km hike to the temple. My brave little knight offered to carry my bag. I readily rewarded his chivalry- by letting him carry it. Trudging along in the heat, dreaming of cool orange drinks and taxis, getting severely tanned in the process, we reached the dastardly office just in time. He got the work done quickly. These Rs. 200 would assure him a lounge service and a coffee and sandwich on the visa interview day. For this I walked for 40 minutes in the sun on an empty stomach. I congratulate myself on this sacrifice. Love has opened up the tender side in me.
Feeling dizzy with heat, we decided to wait for the bus, which, u guessed right, wouldn’t come. I was about to collapse and didn’t trust him to carry both me AND my bag home. So we decided to walk back. On the return trip we eyed a cucumber vendor. A big juicy cool cucumber for Rs. 5. We calculated. It left us with Rs. 16.50 for our bus trip back home. We needed rs.15. We decided to eat.
Being a student of microbiology, the vendor’s fingernails made me swoon. But hunger prevailed. I had a cucumber for lunch.
I don’t believe we walked the affluent streets of south Mumbai with under Rs. 20 in our pockets! What were we thinking! Never again! It would have been an adventure of sorts if I didn’t think I’d die of fatigue.
On reaching thane, and bickering about the other’s lack of sense, we made it to the bus-stop. In the bus, the conductor fixed me with a glare when I handed him Rs. 14 in modest denominations. I smiled apologetically. We could have been paupers! We managed to save Rs. 2.50 in the end! Kudos to us! I was happy to be home and slept like a log, not before replenishing my wallet for the next day.
What a day! It was meant to be an exciting one. We had made plans which I’m dissuaded from discussing on this blog. Well, we ended up subjecting ourselves to a possible cholera attack by drinking the water off a municipality (ahem) tap on parel station. Such is life..
I wont deny I had fun though. What more do u need when u have the company of your beloved? I would have eaten a thousand unwashed cucumbers for him! Besides I was glad I had proven my devotion to him by accompanying him on this perilous endeavour of obtaining the coffee coupons.
But life’s out to get me good. The very next day, in a quiet meeting, he decided to return my heart to me… with an apology. He’s yet to return the Rs. 100.
I smiled and waved as love hoodwinked me yet again. I hope he gets his visa.

GIMME A " C"

I miss Test cricket. I miss the days of intense action, smart strategy, backfiring of plans, suspended overnight drama, and after a hard-fought 5-day battle, there's victory- sweeter than the roses of Arabia, & there's defeat- more bitter than my granny's concoctions.
Now with T-20, cricket is a matter of a few hge hits into the stands and an occasional uprooted stump. No opportunity to build up a game plan and execute it. Its done with good intent, they say, it draws in the crowd. All said and done, the IPL has gone one step ahead and roped in the country's Big Daddies and put cricket up for sale. Mcgraths and Jayasuryas were bought, a cocktail of players mixed and served to us in tall glasses called Kolkata Knight Riders, Mumbai Indians, and some such cheesy names. The cocktails are zinged by the "song and dance" routine by the Bollywood Biggies wearing flaming helmets. but the crowning unbrellas for the cocktails are the cheerleaders.
The purpose defeats me. Let me make it clear that I have as much respect for a cheerleader as I do for a highly qualified software professional. They work very hard on their acrobatic skills and even harder to keep their lithe bodies in shape. But the fact remains that they are a vile indulgence in this scenario at least. Isnt Warnie's googly or Tendulkar's cover drive enough to get the Indian crowd on their feet? Dont they scream in glee everytime Gilly pulls one into the stands or when Akhtar leaves the stumps in disarray. Do they need scantily-clad girls shaking thier booties just to enjoy the game more? What works for a baseball match might not work for cricket.
On a more important note, semi-nudity in females is not taken kindly in India. A spat over this issue was expected. All the cheerleaders have managd to do is spiral the testosterone levels out of control. They are subjected to leers and jeers from a sex-starved crowd in a country where decency for females is held in the highest regards and never practiced. Before something untoward happens, its better to ship them back.
They might not seem to mind or even understand the vile innuendos they are subjected to, but they'll be doing cricket a big favour by sticking to baseball.

the beach, filter coffee and a cigarette and half

Somehow...slouching, grouching, cursing, brooding...somehow.. i got through my exams. i dunno how i did it... but i did...and i should scrape through... like all the other times. Twice a year...for a full hour...God decides to shower me with his mercy.. the hour i spend standing in the line to get my results.
But now, with gel electrophoresis and protien purification behind me, the sewage water treatment all forgotten and stray bits of information about bacterial DNA (crammed desparately at 1 a.m.) wiped from my brain, i waited longingly for the beach that awaited me down south- a (much-deserved) weekend in surathkal.
i've been there before and fallen in love with the virgin beaches there....and they beckoned me yet again this year...and what power do i have against the will of the waves??? Abode to my best freind, mugdha, who (ahem) studies engineering there, living with her in her hostel was the best deal... using the bathrooms there wasnt. Living in a hostel comes with its own frills and filths. Electricity is rare, but u can roam in your underwear. No one takes out the garbage, but u can stay out as late as u wish and... ah.. do as u please.
The minute i reached there, i wanted to go to the heavenly beaches. I browbeat mugs and her freinds to take me and finally, in the evening we made out way through a temple to a cliff which overlooked the beach. i know ur waiting for this part...the part where i describe the beach...but sorry to disappoint u.. it was indescribable. Its not just the beauty of the crystal blue waters lovingly eroding the fine white sand...or the pinkish glow that the setting sun castes on the farway sea...or the tiny ships spotting the golden horizon. Its more about the emotions the view stirs in u... the soothing effect it has on ur mind that gently detangles u from the clump of worries and sets u free and flying... just like the seagulls... I felt a strange calm descend over me as i sat there with my freinds.. not a word passed between us till we realised that we've been locked in this blessed enchantment... thts where my love affair with the beach began...
the rest of the trip was fantabulous too! I met up with all of mugdha's freinds and had a good time with them... walked into the boys' hostel and gave them all a fright...saw everybody's underwears...invaded their beer cartons (they were nice about it)...but admittedly their rooms were cleaner than the girls'!!!!
Ate a lot of icecream, but no dosas :( ... got drenched in the rain (dint intend too...hate the rains... had to cancel my trip to manglore :( ...) and...much to the dismay of mugsy.. ACTUALLY for the first time, smoked a cigarette...
i made DD ( absolutely delightful chap.. cnt help falling in love with him.. god bless him) take me smoking. That darling coulnt refuse.. not even under the baleful eye of mugdha... and so sam, DD, reddy (who doesnt smoke), and I went to this shack for a smoke and some coffee... finally i learnt how to properly smoke (yay!),.. and goodness me.. it hit me like booze! Reddy had an amused expression on his face... DD seemed reluctant to let me smoke another...but we shared the second one....thn had some hot coffee...in the cold rains... and another check on my list of to-do things before- i -die!!!!
well.. so much for the fun i had smoking! mugdha wouldnt talk to me...gave me all killer glares... and had to batttle her acid tongue for the remainder of the day... she took the fizz out of it man!!!! party-pooper!!!!
but i have been thinking...i dont feel like arousing mugsy's anger again... and i did promise her i'll never smoke... and i also promised ameya (the atheist) that i wont a year ago, varun too quit and has been advising me against trying twice...and the man-with-the-brown-curtains thinks i shouldnt indulge in it...well.. ok... i wont... i'll choose the sea over a cig...now mugdha has to find a new reason to be subject me to her awesome wrath...
with one last look at the sea and a collective farewell to all....including julio,(or however its
spelt), the african student who ceaselessly hit on the mediocre me (think of the sorry state of guys there), i came back to aamchi mumbai... the visions of the sea locked safely in an often-visited corner of my mind.
peace.