Hit and miss

Hi,

So you're back.

Where had you been, you dhakkan? I missed you. A little bit.

Hope your trip was good. Thanks a lot for not being in touch while you were away. No, I am not being sarcastic. Sometimes I really need phases when I pretend that you don't exist. Perhaps this is what they call a love-hate relationship. Hit and miss.

You're back at a good time. My new semester started this week. A lot has happened in your absence. My days are getting full again.

Monday night: Language class
Tuesday night: Dissertation meeting/dissertation writing
Wednesday night: Campaign Design class
Thursday night: Public Communication Strategies class

All this with a fulltime job on the side. A friend said I am being too harsh on myself. Another said I may have signed up for more than I can handle. They're partly right, but you know me. I don't want to allow myself to slacken because of my strong belief that the human body and mind take no time to turn into instant slobs of fat and laziness respectively if you don't run a tight ship. We're just bull-shitting ourselves when we think we're too busy with stuff. There's always time for everything. If we really want to do something, that is.

So yes, I run a tight ship of discipline in my life.

But the truth is - without you I probably won't be able to do as much as I am doing now. Without your encouragement and support, things won't look as effortless to the world as they do. I am amazed at the fact that you're still around me. In spite of me. Sometimes I feel I'm being selfish. I slam you about how much you annoy me, and make fun of you on my blog every now and then. In spite of all that, I want you to know that I do appreciate your presence in my life.

And the fact that you respect my need for your absence at times.

Thank you for leaving me alone.
Thank you for coming back to me.

I guess we have a really strange relationship. But I do know that I probably wouldn't be me if you were not you.

You complement me. And so I decided that for a change, I should compliment you.

Just a couple of talents

I watched Vishal Bhardwaj's Omkara on Sunday. And no, I am not going to review it here. (Damn, I read too many reviews before going for the movie, and now everything's all messed up in my head, making me unable to arrive at my own review of the movie.)

Instead, I am going to talk about something that caught my ear while watching the movie.

Laakad jalke koyla hoye jaaye
Koyla hoye jaaye khaak
Jiya jaley toh kuchh na hoye re
Na dhuan na raakh

("Wood burns to form coal
Coal burns to form ashes
A burning heart forms nothing
Neither smoke nor ashes.")

I sat up. That voice was immensely beautiful, and it added that x-factor to the song that made it mind-blowingly soulful. So after the movie ended, I went to check up who'd sung it, and it turns out the singer is someone called Rekha Bhardwaj. At once, I googled to find out the connection between Vishal Bhardwaj and Rekha Bhardwaj, and turns out my suspicion was right - they are indeed husband and wife.

Having had a not-so-good impression of music directors who try to give their spouses' failing careers a lift by giving them a break in their albums (Anyone remember the 'Jab nahin aaye they tum' song in the album 'Dev' directed by Aadesh Shrivastava? It was sung by his wife Vijeta Pundit -- the actress with a very innocent looking Kumar Gaurav in 'Love story' -- and sank without a trace), I was very much taken in by how extremely talented Rekha Bhardwaj is. The last I remember being this impressed by the magic of someone's voice was when I'd heard Shreya Ghoshal in Jism.

There's no doubt Vishal is extremely talented. I've been a big fan since his Machis days. I even felt that swayam Lata Mangeshkar did not do justice to his 'Pani pani re'. Not only is he a remarkable music director, he's shown his skills in movie-making too. And then I heard another stunner of a song 'O sathi re' from Omkara and found out that he was the male lead in it. I nearly fell on the floor in shock because he gives such perfect company to Shreya Ghoshal in the song, you'd think it's a seasoned singer. In fact, I'm having a tough time trying to decide whether I like his voice more or Rekha's.

Gosh, so much talent in one household, it almost makes me faint with admiration.

This also reminds me of another mind-blowingly talented couple. Javed Akhtar and Shabana Azmi. Two years ago, when I was young(er) and (more) foolish, I camped outside the Grand Hyatt to catch a glimpse of the Bollywood stars who were in Singapore for the IIFA awards. I was there for a few days, at really unearthly hours, and I caught most of them on camera, albeit a bit shaky because of other young and foolish fans who kept shoving and pushing each other. Security was tight, and we were not allowed to go close to the stars.

Suddenly I spotted Javed Akhtar near the hotel entrance. Surprisingly, no one was making a big fuss over him. I suspect no one really recognised him. Shabana was standing a few steps behind him. I yelled out his name. He looked at me and gave me a smile for my camera. But I wanted the 'perfect shot' of the 'perfect couple'. I gathered courage and motioned to him to call Shabana too. What cheek! He could have easily done the 'Photo lena hai toh le, warna chal chal hawa aane de' but he actually motioned me to wait, and turned back to call her. She came forward, he put his arm around her shoulder and posed again. When the crowd saw Shabana, they started screaming and she started to wave everywhere. But Javed waved only to me. I was so floored by his gesture I almost dropped my camera.















The shot came out really shaky because of the moron behind me, who had precariously balanced himself on the artificial rocks near the Grand Hyatt's fountain, and in an attempt not to fall into the fountain, decided to use my shoulders as an anchor. Bhai ko hila dala kambakht ne. :|

I did not come back with my 'perfect shot', but I was floored by Javed's humility. No wonder his lyrics are so earthy -- the man is earthy himself. In spite of being Javed Akhtar.

And for the first time, the very idealistic muhavra we'd learnt in school made sense.

"Ped par jitne zyada phal hote hain, woh utna hi zyada jhukta hai."

The more fruits a tree has, the lower it bows.

Sayesha's theory of (r)evolution

This post may come across as random and weird, but it's the amalgamation of many things that I have been pondering over for the last few days. This blog post is a post about my blog.

I was watching the SATC episode where Charlotte defines 'great love' as 'a love that shakes your core, and changes you forever'. Carrie professes in the end of that episode that if it was true that each person only got one great love in a lifetime, New York would be hers. I do not believe in only one great love, or only one soulmate. We connect with different people on different levels, and we should have the freedom to not let ourselves be restricted by the boundaries of the so called 'one great love'.

When I first started blogging, I didn't have the slightest idea about the kind of impact it was about to have on me, and the way it would change me forever, in terms of how I see other people and myself. So going by Charlotte's definition, I guess blogging would be one of my great loves.

And just like a first date, my initial blogging experience was rather awkward, punctuated by spasms of silence. I did not know what to blog about, how to blog. Hell, I did not even know why I was blogging! I did not know how to handle my anonymity. I did not know whether to keep my blog life completely independent of my real life. Though 90% of my blog readers do not know me in my real life, there are some who do. They have respected my anonymity and I respect them for that.

In my early blogging days, I thought I would make a list of blog rules. I thought I would keep my blog away from my parents so that they never see the un-pretty side of my life and get all worked up. I would never blog from office. I would never put up my pictures. I would never blog about certain things and certain people. I would blog only for myself and never indulge in any tag-blogging. I would never interact with bloggers outside my blog. But somewhere along the way, these rules got blurred. The more I blogged, the more vague the rules became. I reached a point where I realised that there was no point to having any cast-in-stone blog rules.

This blog has evolved. From being a place where I wrote down thoughts and incidents, to a place where I hang out with my blog friends. Blog friends - now that's a strange term. I used to think that you cannot make friends on your blog. And even if you do, they can never be as close to you as your real life friends are. I used to think that your closest friends are those whom you meet on a regular basis, those who live in the same place as you. But I have found friends through my blog whom I'm very close to, sometimes closer than the friends I meet on a regular basis. Of course, it has not always been pleasant, and even though I have made many many blog friends, along the way I have lost a few too. But one thing I am glad about is that I have not lost faith in blog friendships altogether.

When you have a thought, and you put it out there under readers' and commentators' scrutiny, there's a lot that could happen. You could see a totally different viewpoint, something so convincing that it changes your views forever. You could have a lively and intelligent debate. You could see a loophole in your argument. You could get validation for your theory. And you could get judged.

Truth is - we love to judge others. It makes us feel better about ourselves, and in spite of knowing that we don't like being judged, we still go ahead and judge everyone and everything around us. But lately I've started cultivating this teeny-weeny belief in my heart, that prolonged exposure to blogging makes us less judgemental. I strongly believe that my blog has made me a better person than I was because today I can stand up and admit that in the past I'd judged certain (the keyword being 'certain', please do not flood me with queries on whether I judged you any time and how) bloggers, just as they'd judged me. And that I don't do it anymore, at least not to the extent that I did before. It's difficult for us to completely stop judging others, but I am making a conscious effort not to, and here are some of my success stories.

#Blogger 1, I judged you because you added google ads on your blog. I was appalled at your attempt to make money out of blogging. But I am more mature and less judgemental now, and I have learnt that there is no predefined use of a blog. How I view blogging is not how you view it. One can use a blog for anything, and earning money is just one of them. So even though I refuse to put google ads on my blog, I am glad that today I do not judge those that do.

#Blogger 2, I judged you, because I thought you were materialistic and superficial and whiney. But after interacting with you, I realised that try as you may to put on a bitchy front on your blog, underneath all that is a heart of gold which holds no malice for anyone. And I am glad that I don't think you're putting on a front anymore, because the person who talks to me, and the person who writes the posts, is still you. I tried to fit you into a bracket, and I shouldn't have.

#Blogger 3, I judged you because I thought you were a fake blogger who was writing for others. But now I think that I was just jealous that you were getting 200 comments per post, and I wasn't. And I am glad that I have reached the phase where yes, I feel happy that people read my blog, but I do not keep count of comments. And frankly speaking, I don't think I can handle that kinda volume because I still want to be able to reply to each one of them.

#Blogger 4, I judged you because you did not stand by me at a moment when I thought I would find a friend. But then I realised that by not standing by me, you were standing by someone else. Perhaps you were doing what you thought was right, and so was I. When I was judging you for not being a friend, maybe that's exactly what you were doing - being a friend. To someone else, but it does not matter. I am glad that though my expectations from you went down, my friendship and respect for you is still the same. And it made me a lot wiser about expectations in general.

#Blogger 5, I judged you because the person I knew you as, was so different from the blogger you were. In real life, you came across as cynical and negative, but in your blog, you talked of things like friendship and love and happiness, which I'd never heard you utter in all my days of interacting with you. But then I realised that whatever it may be, it was still you. Maybe it was my ill fortune that I had not seen this happy and emotional side of you. It was just a part of you I had never seen before, and now I accept and respect it without reservations.

#Blogger 6, I judged you because you never had a good thing to say about anyone or anything on your blog. You were so full of negativity that reading your blog made me feel negative. And then I figured that maybe it was your way to vent frustration. Maybe releasing all the negativity on your blog made you more positive in real life. Blogs are supposed to be therapeutic, isn't it? Maybe your blog was bringing you positivity, albeit in a non-conventional way. And I'm glad I was able to look at it that way.

And finally, my MACs. I have had my share of anonymous comments - some that complimented me and then immediately tried to sell me ceiling fans and university degrees. Some that did not compliment me before showering me with mean hateful comments. Some from people I don't know. Some from people I know. Some from people who think I don't know it was them. At first I did not know how to deal with such comments. I got flustered, angry that someone who didn't even know me was judging me. Then someone told me that I should take it as a compliment that someone cared enough for my blog and me, to hate the two of us. That someone bothered about my blog enough to come back and check my reply to his/her comment, and then again to read my next post. I was also told that maybe I was taking the comments - both the bouquets and the brickbats - too seriously. I agree, I think I did. But I am glad that while I have stopped taking the malicious comments seriously, I have not reached the stage where I dismiss the bouquets too. When someone actually takes time to tell you something nice about you or your blog, you don't say "Bah!". You acknowledge it and feel grateful for it because in our world, appreciation is hard to come by. As for malice, there's plenty out there in the world, and so yes, we should not make a big deal out of it. And I'm glad that in those times of frustration, I did not stoop to the level of leaving malicious anonymous comments on anyone's blog. Because such comments seriously don't deserve any attention.

Some time ago, I renamed my blog from 'Sayesha's world' to 'Sayesha's bar'. Just for fun, for a change. I changed it back within a day. Because Sahil asked me to. Sahil, my blog friend who knows this blog like no one else does. Is mehfil ka purana diljala I call him. He said it didn't sound right, and I knew he was right. My blog is not a bar by itself, it's a bar because of the bewdas here. Without them, it would just be me standing along in this place hurling bottles and glasses in the air, and not quite catching them. This place is still 'Sayesha's world'. It becomes a bar only when the bewdas make their way in. And then something changes in the air, everything becomes happy. Lively. So maybe my blog has changed then. It has evolved from something that was only mine, into something I am happy to share.

Just like people, blogs do not stay the same forever. Other blogs change them, people change them. From being 'random ramblings' and 'mundane musings' and 'soul searches', they can become much more. They can be defined, and redefined along the way, in whichever way the blogger wants. That really is the beauty of blogging, isn't it?

So maybe that's what it is. Maybe I don't need to rack my brain and try to figure out so much about how and why I blog, or bother about judgements, or make so many rules. The important thing is to remember all the happiness, friendships, love and positive vibes that the blog brings into my life - and continue to blog for that.

I used to think that my life revolves around my blog.

I was wrong.

The truth is - my life evolves around my blog.

Laugh-ology mein first, baki sab mein fail

In the last few days, I had been observing how people express amusement over something through words. I even observed my own replies to commentators when they write something funny. I realised that I don't use the same words to denote laughter every time. I guess we laugh in different ways, depending on the context and the person. So I made the following list - my laughing 'stock' - in a state of blissful joblessness. It does not include descriptions of laughter such as 'LOL' and 'ROFL', but the actual laughter itself.

Hahaha!
This is the regular one, used by almost everyone, including me.

Muahahahaha!
This is possibly the best portrayal of evil laughter. I believe I saw it first in an email that my friend Arch had sent me, and I kinda imagine Ramanand Sagar's Ravan laughing like that with his head thrown back, and his hands on his hips. However, Vikram and World Gal have been fighting over ownership rights for some time now. We will let you know once a consensus is reached.

Khi khi khi
Of course, the one and only Virdi came up with this rather silly laughter, which has now become something that apparently guys are not ashamed to use anymore. And oh, ROS and Jane quickly caught on and have been using this quite regularly.

Bwahahahaha!
Saw this in an email sent by my friend Surreal Reality years and years ago. It struck me as weird and strange and very very appealing. But I still claim rights to the other form of it.

Hooo haaa!
My dear friend Hitler's Soul used it first when he got gold on my Kindies post. Very unique laughter methinks. I have never seen it since.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
My friend Mavj is famous for her neverending 'Hahahas' in her emails. The longer they go on for, the longer they make me laugh, even if what she'd been laughing at wasn't so funny.

Heh!
This was something a Singaporean friend of mine in uni days used to write. At first I thought he was being sarcastic. Or as if the person started laughing and choked midway. I only found out years later, when my colleague Bananapen started using it in her emails, that it's also a way of expressing amusement.

Kekeke!
I first saw this in an email from a colleague. I emailed her back to ask if she'd just abused me in mandarin. I have still not figured out how one can laugh like that.

Har har har!
This is also something I encountered only in Singapore. I still can't seem to fit it into a category, or figure out how it is different from 'Hahaha'. The only 'har har' I knew was in 'Har har Mahadev'.

Hehehehehe!
I used to associate this with lecherous villains in Bollywood movies of the late 70s, because this particular laughter used to emanate whenever they had cornered the hapless heroine. Also something millionaires in the same movies used to say to their guests while accepting presents at a party. "Hehehe, iski kya zaroorat thi, Guptaji?" But lately, it's been associated with any kinda slightly embarrassed laughter.

Ha ha ha!
A friend of mine told me he will settle for nothing less than Angelina Jolie and I said, "To be close to her, you either have to be a Cambodian orphan or Brad Pitt. Which one are you?" His reply was "Ha ha ha!" Now I'd never seen this kind of spaced-out laughter before. I could almost see his tears filling up the spaces between the 'Ha's. Something like what Aamir did in Andaaz Apna Apna in the restaurant when he found out the truth about the Raveena/Kareena mystery.

Ahahahahahahaha!
I first saw this when I was talking to my cousin Sid on yahoo. I figured he was laughing so hard that he pressed 'A' before pressing 'H'. I encounter it now and then when Chapaat comment on my blog. Every time I see it, it reminds me of someone singing some shashtriya sangeet, and the guru saying "Ahahaha, kya sur hai, kya aawaaz hai."

Hiak hiak!
An editor in my team writes this in her emails. And it's funnier because I can actually imagine her laughing like that! A variation would be 'hyuk hyuk' which I have seen around too.

So tell me, what's your laughter like?

Ride and prejudice

When I was three, Dad did not have a car. He used to transport us - Mom, sis and me - around on a giant black motorcycle. I don't even know which brand it was. Whatever was "the family motorcycle" in the early eighties I suppose. You can't even call those things 'motorbikes'. Nothing less than 'motorcycle' would do.

My Mom and sis would sit on the back seat, and I would be perched in front (was that the petrol tank?) Dad was the only one with the helmet, the rest of us would be bindaas helmet-less. And I loved it. I would wish for days when Mom and Sis did not accompany us. I would get to sit on the back seat and be ferried all over town, going 'WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'. :D

For someone who was freaked out by rollercoasters, this was my personal (and very safe, if I may add) roller-coaster ride in the gentle and trusted hands of none but Dad.

After Dad got his car, the motorcycle rides became history. Once in a while I'd remember them and get all nostalgic. I would watch the Bollywood hunks on their sexy black bikes and ooh-aah about them for days. Anyone remember Sunny Deol in shades cruising along on that black bike in Jeet? Of course he spoilt it all later by doing the 'Yara-o-yara-I-can't-start-my-scooter' dance with Karishma Kapoor in clown pants. But as far as I was concerned, men on bikes were still hot.

Then I came to Singapore and heard/read about the perils of motorbike riding. My own classmate in university and his pillion rider were seriously injured when his bike skidded on a rainy night. He was hospitalised and missed an exam. One of my juniors had a bike accident on the highway. As time passed, I became more and more prejudiced against bikes.

Recently, my temp flatmate mentioned that he wanted to get a bike. He changed his mind later. The fact that I'd said, "Bikes are dangerous dangerous things! If you buy one, I will not let you into the house." had nothing to do with it.

It's true. In Singapore, motorbikes are probably the most dangerous vehicles to be on. Like a friend of mine and I joked, "Riding a bike in Singapore is dangerous. The roads are too smooth. At least in India, the dirt on the roads provides the friction."

I'd resolved to myself - I'm never getting on one of those things again! Bikes are dangerous! Dangerous!

So coupla weeks ago, I faced quite a dilemma when I met a friend for dinner and he offered to drop me home on his bike. Now as a rule, I refuse to sit in vehicles that do not balance by themselves. But to be out on a fast bike on the Singapore highway at night sounded like a thrilling and fabulous offer.

"Really??" I asked him when he said "I'll drop you home?"
I think I had the exact same expression that I had when my Marketing Manager told me he wants to send me to Pakistan. Utter fear mixed with utter excitement.

I'd even forgotten how to sit on a bike, and I had to ask him where I was supposed to place my feet. I held on to him for dear life as his bike zoomed on the highway. In my head I was going 'WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE' all over again!!!! :D

We reached my place, I got off and removed my helmet. If this were a movie, I'd have done a post-helmet-removal-hair-shake-routine a la Rani Mukherjee in Ghulam. He asked me if I was okay. I told him I was. In fact, I was more than okay. I was very thrilled. My feet were still vibrating to the tune of the bike's engine, and they continued to do so for the next half an hour.

So a few days ago, I was excitedly relating my bike adventure to a friend.

She - "You were on a bike??" *shocked expression*

Me - "Yeah!" *proud expression*

She - "On the highway??" *shocked expression*

Me - "Yeah!" *proud expression*

She - "Do you know how dangerous that is?? Do you know that pillion riders are the first to die??"

It was at this point in time that we traded expressions.

Now this particular friend of mine is my 'Sayesha's guide to Singapore'. (Yes yes, in spite of my 8 years here, anything she says about Singapore is my paththar ki lakeer.) She was right. No matter how careful a motorist you are, one small mistake by another person can cost you your life.

Errrmm... I'm so glad I didn't die that night.

Okay, that's it. I'm never getting on one of those things again! Bikes are dangerous! Dangerous!

Except maybe when they're on the highway at night?

Then they are just... WHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! :D

We had chemistry

When you're the MC of your company's book launch, you pretty much have to sit through the full proceedings, even if it includes what promises to be an incredibly boring chemistry lecture by the author of the book being launched.

And then you're suddenly suprised at the fact that you not only sat up and listened, but you actually enjoyed the talk.

So as I stood there in the Grand Hyatt ballroom and read out that the author had been a chemistry teacher for 30 years, my eyes nearly popped out. I have the greatest respect for teachers and housewifes... errr... homemakers if I may. I think they undergo the greatest sacrifices ever. I can never do what they do. My mom gave up a university lecturer's job so that she could stay home and bring up the susheel and sanskari tapori that I, ahem, turned out to be.

I must pause here to bow to all homemakers and teachers before I proceed with my post.

So this author was relating hilarious incidents from his chemistry lab (he teaches in Malaysia) that involved titillating tales of titration and what not. And I was suddenly flung back in time to my chemistry lab in my school days. My tapori gang days.

We had a very fierce chemistry teacher at first, Mr. B., who left the school shortly after I joined. (I swear I had nothing to do with it.) He was the kind who would not allow you into the lab if you forgot your lab coat. And guys of my class would love to "forget" their lab coats, so that they'd be kicked out of the lab and could go play football in the school field, and find me later to copy my notes. We girls, on the other hand, loved the lab coats. We pretended to be dainty doctors busy in a hospital. Mental hospital. Of course.

Mr. B. would be ultra-hyper during salt analysis. "Be careful with that sulphuric acid! Warna... na kapda bachega na chamda!" He'd snarl and we'd secretly laugh into our conical flasks.

However, on rainy days, the guys would "remember" to bring their lab coats and join us in the practical classes. There was this one guy who heated conc. sulphuric acid till it splattered on to my friend's lab coat. We watched in wonder as the small hole on her lab coat became bigger and bigger. Mr. B. screamed, "Kya hua?" and one of the guys answered back, "Sir, kapda toh gaya, chamda bach gaya."

The guys would write names in alcohol on the wooden benches and light up one end. "Dekh, Sayesha, you have a deewana!" They'd say. Once, someone's lab coat actually caught fire. As usual, Sir asked, "Now what happened??" Someone yelled out again, "Dahej hatya, sir! Bride burning!" The toughest part of chemistry practicals was to control the urge to laugh.

Soon, Mr. B left and Chemu joined us. (I'd mentioned Chemu again in one of my favourite posts.) Chemu was very fun, more easy-going and ready to laugh with us at our stupid jokes. But he knew that the guys were up to no good. Before the practical exams, he called my friend R and me to his lab. We delightedly rushed up thinking that he was going to give exam tips to his two favourite students.

"Girls, I need your help."

"With what, sir?"

"I was setting the practical exam questions, and when I tried out the analysis, nothing worked. Do you know why?"

"Why, sir?"

"Because of the morons in your class, that's why! The buggers have replaced many of the chemicals with water, and mixed up others and diluted others, and switched labels, and I am going crazy. When solutions don't turn pink or red when they're supposed to, the morons come to me and say, "Sir, this doesn't work!" And when I say "What nonsense, of course it works!" and try it out myself, it doesn't! I am very frustrated!"

We were speechless with shock and disgust. Mainly because the guys had not included us in the prank.

"So I have decided to throw away all the solutions, and make them again. Obviously, I cannot do it by myself and you two are the only students I trust." (Yes yes, besides being the Bhai, I was 'that girl'.)

So we spent that afternoon replacing all the solutions and relabelling the bottles. During the exams, when all the tests worked fine, the guys looked puzzled while Chemu walked around with a permanent grin on his face. R and I pretended to know nothing.

To take revenge on the guys, we girls started keeping secrets from them too. I remember sometimes when we would be trying to test whether a chemical was acetone or not, we'd smell it first (not advisable!) and then see if we could remove nail polish with it (not advisable!). If we could, we'd conclude that it was acetone and not do any of the actual tests for it. But we could BS like pros and so our reports looked fabulous. The acetone secret was eventually leaked out to the boys (damn teenage romances!). So they'd come to us with random chemicals and say, "Yeh haath mujhe de de thakur, nail polish nikalna hai!" and we'd be like "Nonsense! What if it's conc. sulphuric acid instead of acetone?" They'd say, "Phir kapda rahega lekin chamda nahin. Ha ha ha!" and laugh like hyenas at their own joke. We'd glare at them in disgust and refuse to help.

Does anyone remember this gas called H2S? A real stinker it was! During salt analysis, if we told Chemu that we wanted to test the salt by passing H2S through its solution, he'd get up to set up (hey that rhymed!) the apparatus for producing H2S himself. He hated the smell. We all hated it. But the guys just loved to see the look of disgust on Chemu's face when he'd be collecting the gas. And it would stink up the school so bad, the classes next to the lab would start closing their doors and windows.

During exams, if there was a salt analysis question, and we'd tell Chemu that we wanted to test with H2S, he'd mutter under his breath "H2S?? Offfo! H2S kyun chahiye?" Each time he said that, we took it as a hint that the salt did not need the H2S test, and we would eventually figure out what salt it was.

Chemu's reactions actually helped us skip a few reactions.

I was overjoyed when some time ago, when I found these morons from my chemistry lab on the net. Internet ki jai ho! And we had one mega yahoo conference. After 8 long years. It was so strange and yet funny, the way they were trying to test me. My school school gang members saying "We wanna see ki tu Singapore jaakar badal gayi kya."

So they shot a million questions at me.

"Wahan Singapur mein Bhaigiri karti hai kya?"
"Bhai, long time no see... tumhaare bina idhar apun log ke gang ka kya waat lagela hai maloom hai?"
"Bhai...ye kya haal bana liya hai apna?? pehchaan hi mein nahi aa rahi ho yaar..bhaigiri chhod k behngiri chalu ho gaya kya??? Tera photo dekhkar mann dol raha hai."
"Tu waapas India aayegi?"
"Tu shaadi kab karegi?"
"Tum aisa kahan underground hua baitha hai?"
"Koi naya gang toh nahin form kar liya wahan?"

I read their questions, and I laughed and cried at the same time as I answered them. It was only when I mentioned 'The quarry' that they said "Humne socha tha tu badal gayi hogi, lekin tujhe sab kuchh yaad hai." The quarry was a secret place that we'd all gone to, right after the board exams, just before we were all headed in different directions in life. It was a quiet place with huge rocks to climb and sit on. And we all just sat there, no one saying a word. No tapori language, no bhaigiri, no jokes, no leg-pulling. We just sat there in silence. The air was heavy with the fact that I was leaving forever, and you know how bad guys are with goodbyes. I could sense that they were all getting quite emotional, but I did not want to be the first to break down.

I was still the Bhai after all. And Bhais don't cry.

The stay order

A long long time ago, Ptolemy concluded that the earth was the centre of the solar system and the sun revolved around it.

A long long time ago, Sayesha also concluded something. That India was the centre of the world, and everything else revolved around it.

When I was a kid, the world was a sphere full of places that you read about in a subject called geography. But there was only one place for me and others like me, to live in, and that was India. I lived in the centre of the world, the best place in the world. I had no reason to live elsewhere. The people who lived in the other places were a different kind, and I would never have anything to do with them ever in my life.

And then I heard about about someone I knew moving to this weird place called America. So I adjusted my theory and said, okay, maybe people like me go and stay in difference places in the world, but they always come back to live in their home, no matter how many years it takes them.

According to me, the earth was round in shape instead of stretching on endlessly, so that such people could go around it, see what they had to see, stay where they wanted to see, and come back home - to live in India - the centre of the world.

Two weeks ago, on 18th July 2006, I completed 8 years in Singapore. That's longer than my stay in any city in India. Two more years to go before I complete my bond. And after that, I'll have to decide. I'll have to decide which is home. I have to figure out what home really is.

All this while, my life had been pre-set. I had to live in Singpore till 2008. That was my fate, and not a bad one at that. The country has been good to me. But I could never see myself settling down here. I always thought I'd be going back to India. But now, as I near the magic number of 2008, I have to decide where I want to spend the rest of my life.

Is it Singapore where my job and friends are? Is it India where my family is? Or is it somewhere else?

A friend was discussing this with me and she asked, "Perhaps you should start thinking -- what's the most important factor that will determine which country you want to settle down in?"

"Umm... I dunno... availability of good pani puris?" I said.

(No, I wasn't joking.)

So I decided to make a list. A Singapore vs India list.

If I live in Singapore, I would be close to India.
But if I live in India, I'd be even closer to India.

Singapore has mee goreng and prata.
But India has the awesomest thing in the world - roadside panipuri.

India has my roots.
But Singapore has my job.

In India, you can be mugged and robbed anytime of your belongings.
But in Singapore, they say you've already been robbed of your freedom.

India has many crazy seasons that often go out of control.
Singapore has control over its one crazy season.

In India, I can walk around like I own the place.
But in Singapore, I can walk around without getting eve-teased.

In Singapore, I'm squashed by the stress.
In India, I'd be squashed by the crowds.

In Singapore, they speak four languages.
But in India they speak my language.

Singapore is clean.
But India's real neat too.

So I discussed my dilemma with my sister. She said she had the perfect solution for me.

"Come to the US."

"But why?"

"I'm here, that's why."

She had a good point. But I do not know yet where I will live. Things have changed. The way I feel and think has changed. I do not have that 'Of-course-I'll-go-back-to-India-where-else?' feeling anymore. Suddenly there are too many choices. Too many factors that come to play. Practicality, logic, numbers, ambition, desires, convenience. Emotions.

They say that the difference between 'staying at a place' and 'living in a place' is that while the former refers to a temporary arrangement, the latter indicates permanence.

Perhaps things have changed. Perhaps I don't need to pick a place to live in, anymore. I can stay where I am, and a few years later, I can stay somewhere else. Perhaps we don't live in a world where have to live in a place anymore. We just go around the world and stay at places we like, till we're ready to move on to the next place.

And perhaps that's the real reason why the earth is round. So that you can go around it, see all of it, and one fine day, if you wake up and you feel that you're ready to live in a place, you know exactly where to go.

Two guys and a girl

Update on my Krrish survey - 195 responses so far. I'm so thrilled about my dissertation now. I think that about 150 of the responses came from my blog buddies and their friends. Just wanna thank you guys and gals for helping out someone you've never met. :)

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I am moving again.

And cliched as it may sound, it does feel like yesterday when I moved into this house.

When I started my master's last year, I was going for classes after work. My classes were in the west and I was living in the east. By the time I got home, it was so late that it was almost time to get up to go to work the next day. The lease for my last house had expired. And to avoid the crazy lifestyle I was leading, I had finally decided that it would be better for me to move to the west.

And move I did. But now it's that time of the year again. And I am so glad I am moving back to the east. Yeay! Though I still have one more semester of travelling to the west for classes, I am going back to my beach and everything else that I missed about the east.

And as I think of the million things that I must throw before I move into my new apartment, I wonder if there's anything about the west I will miss. Not much.

Maybe the two blokes I live with. Just a little bit.

When you're fresh out of university, everyone someone manages to find someone or the other of the same gender, to be flatmates with. It's easy. But a few years down the lane? Not so easy anymore.

Okay, what do you do when all the girls you know are either getting married or leaving Singapore for an MBA?

It was official - I'd run out of single girls to live with.

Days of frustration and desperation led to the only solution I had. Answer an online ad. I found the ad and the flatmates. Everything was fine. Except for one little thing.

The flatmates were both guys.

So I called up my parents and asked them if they'd be okay with me living with two random guys. (Actually, they were not that random, they were my juniors from uni. And although I'd never really spoken to them, I'd seen them in uni a couple of times.)

Dad freaked out a bit at first.

"Live with guys?? Why?? What happened to the girls??"

"I'm out of them, Dad!"

"Out of them?"

"Yeah, most are going abroad for their MBAs and a few are getting married."

(Truth was - most were getting married, and a few were going abroad for their MBAs. But I could not tell him that otherwise I'd put myself in a "If your batchmates are getting married, why aren't you??" situation. And other than "Errr... uhhh... ummm...." I had no answer to that question.)

"Achha... hmmm... guess you have no choice then... you will be careful, yes?" He asked.

"Don't worry Dad, I'll keep three knives in my room and a water pistol under my pillow." I tried to joke my way out of it.

(Come to think of it - I do have three knives in my room - one for sharpening my writing pencils, one for sharpening my eyebrow pencil, and one for cutting fruits and stuff -- general bhaigiri-practice.)

Anyway, my parents agreed and I went ahead and signed up for the flat. Contrary to my hopes, neither of them turned out to be gay. It's now been almost a year since I have lived with these guys, and I must say it has been a strangely interesting experience.

I believe that after having seen both sides, now I am in a position to collate the differences between living with gals and living with guys.

Living with guys - the cons

• You can't just wear whatever you want when at home.
• To avoid embarrassing them, you gotta dry your clothes in two lots - the mentionables in the main drying area and the unmentionables inside your room.
  
• There is always a pile of clothes in the washing machine that someone forgot to pick up.
• The couches always have a pile of clothes taken off the drying rack by someone who wanted to dry his own clothes.
• When your flatmate wants to ask you something, he will not knock on your door for fear of disturbing you. He will sms you or worse, call your mobile from the house phone.
• You can't decorate the house for fear of making it too girly. I have not had my favourite pink gerberas in my house for almost a year now. :'(
• "But we must have one hindi channel yaar!" is not a good enough reason to get Zee/Sony tv connection, especially since you have no time to watch TV. (In the last year, I have watched TV only thrice. I don't even know my way around the remote control.)
• You feel like a worthless failure when a yummy smell creeps out of the kitchen as your male flatmate whips up a fancy meal.
• You can't walk around with a multani mitti mask on your face - you may cause a heart-attack in the house.
• You can't play Shania Twain too loud.
• You can't have an inhouse pedicure/manicure session.
• You can't experiment with your flatmates' hair.
  
• You can't get opinions from your flatmates on silly things such as whether your ankles look fat in those shoes, before you go out partying.
  

Living with guys - the pros

• They will agree to let you have the big room with the attached bathroom without any rona-dhona and nautanki. (Of course, I pay 75 dollars extra per month for it, but it was still nice of them.)
• You will never have a situation where all the inhabitants of the flat are PMS-ing at the same time.
• It's no big deal if you see your housemates only in the weekend. (When I leave for office, it's dark and they're still asleep. When I come back from class, it's dark and they're asleep.)
• Your room can be as messy as you like - no one's gonna drop by at a weird time to talk about boyfriend problems.
• You work out for longer durations, especially if you bump into your flatmates at the gym.
• You can all be sitting in the same living room, and you don't necessarily have to talk.
  
• The kitchen belongs to only one person, without interference from the others. (In my case, it happens to belong to my housemate, since I stopped cooking a year ago.)
• Your flatmates will never borrow your precious hair straightener.
• Of the two shoeracks in the apartment, you can have one and a half to yourself. Sometimes more.

But my top favourite one is this.

• You enjoy hearing the shock in the voice of the person on the phone to whom you just coolly said, "I'm sorry, ____ is not at home. I'm his flatmate, can I take a message?"

:D

Henna bolo bolo

"WHAT? Go to Little India? On a Friday night? On my own?? Yeah, right! Over my dead body!" This would have been my typical reaction.

But last Friday night, I was forced to eat my words and my hat, skip over my own dead body and make my way to the only area in Singapore I am scared to go to by myself -- Little India.

So why did I go?

Sigh... a song comes to mind... with a little modification...

Charity ke liye sala kuchh bhi karega.

Just before midnight, I had received a message from SVC - Student Volunteer Corps - for whom I had done some fund-raising work last year (I had blogged about it here.) They wanted to ask me if I was available to do the same this year.

I'd love to, I told them, except that I did not have any materials on me. And the only place in Singapore that I knew would have henna cones was Little India. So I braced myself and made the arduous journey to Little India, got lost, called a friend who guided me, wandered the streets of Little India until I finally found a shop that sold henna cones. Phew.

I was up very early on saturday morning and reported to Singapore Polytechnic - the venue of the fund-raising event. I was to be a part of a carnival where I would do henna for people all day. The volunteer who had approached me showed me my table.

And the table-mat... errrr... I mean table-mate who came with it.

Now I had never done joint-venture fund-raising before. In the last 6-7 years of doing this, I'd always had a table to myself.

"This is the face-painting lady, and you'll be sharing the table with her." She told me.

I looked at the FPL just as suspiciously as she looked at me. We exchanged polite hellos.

It was still quite early, and after setting up the stall, I found myself quite jobless. Ditto for her. So we started talking.

"So where's your henna shop?" She asked.

"Err... I don't have a henna shop. I only this one in a while for charity."

"Oh okie..."

"Where's your face-painting shop?" I had to ask.

"I don't have a face painting shop. I only do this as a part-time business at birthday parties and other events."

"So what do you do?"

"I'm a senior editor in a book publishing company."

"Oh okie..."

"What about you?"

"I'm a freelance graphic designer."

Whoa, the things we had in common.

"What's your name?" She asked.

I told her. "And yours?" I asked.

"Hazel."

"Hazel... hmmm..."

Looooong pause.

"So did you get teased a lot in school?" Suddenly I found myself blurting out.

"As in?"

"As in... You know... "Hazel, you're a nut!" type of teasing?"

The moment I said it, I regretted it. I barely knew her, what the hell was I doing cracking bad jokes about her name?!

Thankfully, she started laughing. "Yes, I got teased a lot. I hated my name all through school."

"I like the name 'Hazel'." I said.

"Yeah, me too. Now." She smiled. "Hey, you want to make a poster for our table??"

"Yeah!"

And suddenly we were friends. I guess sometimes a bad joke is all it takes to break the ice and become friends with someone.

So I made our table poster, careful to use exactly half of the sheet of paper to advertise my henna and half to advertise her face painting.

"So when's it gonna start?" I asked.

"Not sure... the chief guest is not here yet... Hey, you wanna make me a henna design meanwhile??"

"Sure!" I was too happy to do it.

After I semi-handicapped her due to the wet henna on her hand, I took over making the pokemon models. She'd been making them to sell at the carnival.
















We made shitloads of them but ended up giving away all for free to the children with Down's syndrome who visited our stall.


There was a balloon sculpture stall next to ours. When I saw the balloon sculptor, I did a double take.

I walked over to him and said, "Hi, are you Victor?"


"Yes, I am! How do you know me?"

"You were featured in my magazine last year, remember?"

"Ohhh! Yes yes, you are the editor! Small world, huh? Are you still with them or doing henna fulltime?"

"Haha! No, I'm still with them."

"Give me your number, I will call you when I get calls to do balloon sculpturing at birthday parties, we can set up shop together!"

"Errr... uhhh... I don't really... why don't you ask Hazel? She's the face-painting lady!"

In five minutes or so, numbers had been exchanged and we were ready to become the trio that terrorised kids at birthday parties.

Speaking of kids, some had soon materialised at our stall out of nowhere. Hazel got busy painting the most adorable spiderman on this kid's arm.

The kid came back later to get a spider's web painted on his face. Then he asked Hazel for a mirror so he could look at it. He then proceeded to use the mirror to examine the spiderman on his arm. Hazel, the kid's mother and I burst into laughter.

"You can look at it directly, you know. You don't need a mirror." Hazel said.

The kid gave all three of us a disgusted 'What-do-you-grown-ups-know' look and continued with his inspection.

Meanwhile, I had a queue of teenagers waiting to get henna done. I soon got to work, and both Hazel and I stayed busy till it was lunchtime.















A kid was observing me as I was making this design. He remarked, "Is that a waffle in the centre?" I laughed so hard, I almost lost control of the cone.
















This girl asked me if I had any design samples to show her. "Oops, all the designs are in my head. I just follow the shape of the hand... if you can trust that." I'm glad she did. This was one of my favourites that day.

As I encountered some strange requests, I remembered a few funny incidents from last year's carnival. When the children with Down's syndrome came down to the stall, (Actually it's difficult to guess the age of someone who has Down's syndrome, so we'd been told to refer to all of them as children) there was a very shy boy amongst them. So this shy boy - I call him Bashful Benny - was looking at the henna and smiling.

"Do you want it done?" I asked him.

He pointed to his arm.

"Okay, let's do a design on your arm. What do you want?"

"My name."

"Your name? Great! What's your name?"

"Benny."

"Okay, Benny, here you go!" I wrote 'Benny' on his arm.

Soon, there were two more of them at my stall asking for the same thing.

"Same thing? Okay, so what's your name?" I asked the first one, while the second one waited.

"No, I want you to write 'Benny'."

"You want me to write 'Benny'??" I glanced at his name tag. His name was something else.

"Yes."

"Err... Okay." So I wrote 'Benny' on his arm.

The second one also wanted me to write 'Benny' on his arm!

The real Benny was standing there, enjoying the spectacle.

"You see, Benny? You're a celebrity! Everyone wants me to write your name!" I told him. He blushed again. They stuck around for a while, and soon Bashful Benny and the other two 'Bennys' were escorted away by the volunteers.


This year, I was slightly more prepared. Girls are never a problem, but usually, I have to think of what to draw for guys. The most popular guy-designs are barbed wire, lizard, spider and its web (see picture), etc.

Once I even had someone asking me to draw a dragon. I had no idea how to draw a dragon with henna, and I told him so. He insisted. I drew what I thought looked considerably like a dragon, till his girlfriend came along, took one look and exclaimed, "Wow! Dolphin! Cool!"

Gee, thanks a lot. :|

Coming back to this year's carnival, the performances by the disabled had started, and people settled down in chairs. I saw some of the most amazing performances ever. A secondary school boy wowed us with a song in Chinese. I seriously believe he was better than some of the finalists in Singapore Idol!

Next, a troup of speech and hearing impaired musicians played some very beautiful pieces. I still can't get over how someone who can't hear music can make music. Amazing.

The SVC volunteers were next, and they put up a very unique performance. They played songs by boybands, and used sign language to translate them to the audience. It looked like a very well-choreographed dance, especially because they were all in sync. Brilliant idea, I must say. And I wondered how come the actual singers in the boybands -- even though they do almost the same actions -- look like such dhakkans in their videos.

Hazel then asked me if I wanted her to paint something for me. I jumped at the chance.

"Yes yes, I want!"

"What do you want?"


"What is your favourite?"

"Powerpuff girls."

"Okay!"

"All three of them?"

"Three?? Whoa! No, one maybe?"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean?"

"Blossom, Bubbles or Buttercup?"

Sheesh.

"I dunno! I'm not really a fan." I said. "The pink one maybe?"

"Oh great! She's Blossom, she's the most popular one."



So she painted this really cool tattoo-like Blossom on my hand.

(By the way, the colour she had used for the hair was a tad stronger than the rest, so after my bath the next morning, everything else had been washed off, but an eerie orange wig was around on my hand for one whole day.)

At the end of the day, I was so dead tired that I felt like going home and collapsing into it, dead to the world until sunday afternoon. But I was supposed to meet my friends for dinner and I turned up, proudly showing off my Powerpuff Girl.

I was tired but I felt really good on the inside. I guess that's the thing about volunteer work -- it's a win-win situation. Someone benefits and you feel really great.

It is probably the only place where the time=money equation is so obvious. Time or money -- give whatever you have more of.

Though sometimes I do wonder if one is really supposed to have so much fun doing volunteer work.

The BYOB (bring your own blog) party

Now I've witnessed a bachelor party before, but on Sunday night, I was invited to the first bachelorette party of my life.

An e-bachelorette party at that.

So what happens when eight crazy bloggers in various parts of the world decide to hold a BYOB bachelorette party online?

A lot, most of which cannot be disclosed here since this is a family blog, and also because the sistahs of the ya-ya sistah-hood would not spare my life if I disclosed the dirty details.

So I decided to blog about PG-rated parts of the party instead. The planning, that is. With the kind permission of the attendees, of course.

*For all the times that you gals ran away with the gold at my bar, Sayesha grabs first bragging...errr... blogging rights to this party and runs away muahahaha*

===========================================

The invitees

Smiling Girl
The girl from Ipanema
Gemini
The girl who sold the world
Nirwa
Aarti
Jane aka The chosen one
Sayesha


The scheduling

Ipanema Gal - hey girls!!! following up on s.g's wonderful idea. QSG is also game for an "e"-girls-night out. we can get together on gtalk and chat. fun will come. we need to fix a time, preferably over weekend..

Sayesha - Wow you guys were serious! This is super exciting!! :D But gtalk??? Gtalk?? No font colour, we'll go crazy trying to figure out who wrote what! Do they even have conferencing?? How about yahoo instead??

Aarti - Btw.. just a passing thought.. NIGHT-OUT??? Night for whom & day time for whom?? :P:P

Ipanema Gal - people throw in times and dates and ideas and let's make this happen! :)

Sayesha - SG sunday night waapas aa jayegi... that would be sunday night for me too... and Amrikans ke liye sunday morning...

Gemini - I am absolutely game for the little chat - Sunday, is it? So this really is a bachelorette party??? When is the shaadi? And whose? I am planning to get drunk and chat with you girls - am even planning to wear a funky outfit, play loud music, and laugh a lot, to get in the groove! ;)

Ipanema Gal - Lets try this again. Sunday 8 30 pm IST = Sunday 11 am EST (U.S time) = Sunday 11 PM Shingapur time. i think that works for most, except it might be too late for sash, and smiling girl can be fashionably late. sash, what do you think??

Jane - So is the grand plan on or not, gals??? Sash hasn't confirmed if 11pm is ok with her...altho' I doubt it...how will the poor gal wake up for MoAnday morning? She will be blue anyway!!

Sayesha - Ati sundar naariyon ka bhandaar, namaskaar. (Hey that rhymed!) 11pm works for me... but I can stay up only till 12... cos 6 baje uthna hai :'(

World Gal - Okay, summary of the latest decisions: time to meet is 8:30 pm IST which is 11 am EST anf 11 pm Singapore time.

The food

Gemini - Hand raised for daaru...i just got back from shopping and i hv my baatlis ready to go!

Sayesha - Baatlis?? Arre baatlis se kya hoga, yahan toh BAALTIS chahiye! HAhahahaha! :D I am buying nachos and I will make my own low fat dip.

Nirwa - Now now.. for drinks, I suggest orange juice! :P And food mein, please make it vegetarian! :P whatever it is.. :P

Sayesha - Nirwa babes... don't worry... tujhe kuchh na kuchh toh mil hi jayega.. and gharwali-'bar'wali a.k.a Sayesha has generously donated fifteen tankis of orange juice for the party. :D

I dunno if this is weird but I actually went and bought nachos and I made my low-fat dip too, the divine secret recipe of which, if sufficiently high on girl-talk, I shall gladly share with the ya-ya-sisterhood at the party tonight.

Nirwa - I say we have pizzas and popcorns and even watch "Naagin" or "Haatimtai" for that matter.. that will make the party ROCK! :P

World Gal - And please, Sayesha...nachos megatons mein banana and bigger share should be mine. Muhahahahahahaha *is very happy that tgfi bhukhad is asleep and won't be able to protest*.

Jane - Hey bhagwan....Sash jaldi se market ja aur extra 20 packets aur le aao! I'll be the popcorn maker (that way I can eat more standing next to the machine :P)

The music

Ipanema Gal - and myuzzik.. how bout good old 80's?? of course, World Gal will have no idea. she can bring nursery rhyme cassettes.

Sayesha - Music... hmmm... I was thinking sharara sharara but that was for a bachelor's party... heheheh... sorry sorry... I don't lissan to much engris muzic... main gaaon ki bholi bhali chhori... sirf brajbhasha ke geet hi sunti hoon. :D

World Gal - Hindi music bhi chalega but Sayesha will have to leave out Himesh Nasalammiya. She said once that she likes his songs. :|

Sayesha - World Gal ki bachi, I did not say I liked Reshammiya - I only like 'Aapki kashish' okhayy??? Hmmph! :|

Underage drinking issues

Gemini - we can have one bachelorette party every month! :p We might become alcoholics, but hey, anything for friends! :))

Aarti - But hey, what alchoholics??? Its not necessary that you need to get drunk every time we chat!!!

Ipanema Gal - eh! what's a party without some daaru?? hum bhi piyenge, tujhe bhi pilayenge. nahi to smiling girl ki tarah apne liye bournvita ya horlicks leke aana.

Aarti - Sayesha ke bar mein jaate jaate aap full bewdi ho gaye ho lagta hai.. You won't get drunk.. no one will..

Smiling Gal - Tune sach hi kaha tha Ipanema Girl... World Girl thoda underage hain is party keliye... :) *Successfully invited a fight*

Ipanema Gal =- HULLLOOOOOO! is bacchi ko kisne laaya party mein?

Gemini - Seriously, 18 yr olds cannot drink - can we make sure we have some OJ and some Soda? Cant be held responsible for serving drinks to bachchas...! :)

World Gal - :O :O :O
Why can't 18 year olds drink??? Why, why, WHY???!!! X-(
*stamps her foot on the ground, throws a tantrum and wails* :P

Sayesha - I had my first drink when I was 24. :O

World Gal - 24??? :O :O :O ITNA LATE??? :O 24 tak toh main curiosity se hee mar jaoongi. :P

Gemini - shiva shiva!!!! aaj kal ki ladkiyan....you are not allowed to drink until you are 21!~!!!!

World Gal - 21??? :O But maine toh suna tha ki it's 18!!! It's 18 in my city! And Delhi mein bhi limit 18 hai!!! Pffft....oppressive people. :|

Gemini - Ahem....delhi is 25... India overall is 25... oppressive, it seems - ek to aaj kal ke bachchon ko sahi raasta dikhao..tch tch... no gratitude only!

World Gal - Delhi is 25? :O But maine toh padha tha ki they're only THINKING of raising the age from 18 to 21.......ab 25 kahan se ho gayi? :O
There's NO justice left in this world.
*grumbles under breath*

Sayesha - Hahahah bachi ko talli hone do behnon.. shaayad usi se sober rahegi...

World Gal - Bachi kisko bola? :O *puts her face into a pillow and sobs*
WHY this ban on drinking? Just when I have finally turned 18. Hmph. This is a gross violation of human rights and I shall appeal to the Amnesty International. X-(

Aarti - about the drinks.. Hmmm.. sochna padega!! Lets take a vote.. girls in favour of drinks kindly sign the petition (I think am gonna see all the names here :P)

World Gal - *Raises one hand in favour of drinks*
After it gets counted, *raises the other hand too for increasing the count*. :P
This is way better than signing a petition. :D

The technical glitches

Gemini - Not to be paranoid or anything - I don't seem to be able to log in to Yahoo - something is not quite right with the servers here - so if I don't show up in the am - its not because I am not up for partying, just thta the Internet stars are not aligning!

Ipanema Gal - yahoo down over here too.\

Sayesha - Come in Charlie 1 2 3... Come in Charlie 1 2 3... Charlie ke bache kahan hai tu... Singapore reporting Yahoo's downfall :'(

Gemini - Charlie ka bachcha North America mein bhi nahin hai...kisi aur ne usse dekha hai kya???

Sayesha - Newsflash - Yahoo is working. YAHOOOOO!!!!!!!! :D

The stripper

Sayesha - All right gals, I'm bringing a male stripper.
*pauses for effect*
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! :D

World Gal - Male stripper? *fake scandalised look on her face*
Just ONE??? :P

Gemini - can we get abhishek b???? ;)

Sayesha - Hahahaha! Abhi Bachha I mean Abhishek Bachchan is too likeable for me to see him strip. :D People look sooooo much better with clothes on, na? :D

Gemini - Yea, some ppl look good with clothes - like Gulshan Grover - not Aby Baby...! ;)

Sayesha - So you have seen Gulshan Grover without, eh? :D

Gemini - So who do you have for the strip show???? George Clooney? Brad Pitt?

Sayesha - I'm getting a sumo wrestler... that way the contrast between clothes on and clothes off is not a lot.

Gemini - I am sorry but I wont be able to make it...! Not if you hv a sumo wrestler for the stripper...!

Ipanema Gal - Hahahahahhahahahha i just went thru the string of emails and found out about the sumo wrestler. aa raha hai kya woh? i need to be dressed up accordingly. IMHO, a sumo wrestler is better than abhishekh hunchback bacchan.

World Gal - the stripper's still not decided....make it John Abraham please...although a sumo wrestler might tell us what NOT to eat and that way, some of us can lose weight. :P

Sayesha - John Abraham naked???? Nahiiinnnnnnnnnn aisa durachar mat karna behno!!!

Gemini - ABHISHEK OR ARJUN RAMPAL - OR EVEN JOHN ABRAHAM. NO SUMO WRESTLERS!

Sayesha - Hahahahaha! I actually read it as Arjun SINGH! And I was like - yeh ladki paagal hai kya??

Gemini - I don't want to hurt feelings but that is NOT an option! ;)

Aarti - In any ways, NO SUMO WRESTLER Sayesha.. pleeeeeaase.. itna atyachaar mat karo.. Nahiiiiiiiin :P:P

Jane - EH???? Oye Aarti behena, aise conditions lagaogi na toh party ka satyanash ho jayega!! No drinks, no strippers, oye yeh party hai ya kindergarten ka class?? Tauba tauba, kya zamaana aa gaya hai

Aarti - I changed my idea for drinks yaar.. ap sab to raashan paani lekar mujhpar chad gaye! Bichari bachi ki jaan loge kya?!?! And who said no stirpper??? :O:O:O
Oye.. this is a bacherotte party.. and no bachelorette party is complete w/o a stripper okay! Who's the stripper.. that has to be decided :P

World Gal - Why can't WE decide the stripper? :| Why? Why? WHY??? *stamps foot on the ground and throws a tantrum*. make it John Abraham, please.....or wait, can it be Francesco Totti? :D Or if someone has a problem with Italian football team *looks sourly at dukhi Lajjo*, then, make it Orlando Bloom. :P
JOHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNN!!!!!!!! :D :D :D *super duper excited*

Aarti - And one vote in favour of John.. Sorry Sash, get someone on your side quick :P:P

Sayesha - I just called and cancelled the Sumo... bechara ro raha tha... kaha ki pehli baar kisine usko bachelorette party mein bulaya aur phir cancel kar diya... abhi woh solid diet-exercise regime par hai. Says he'll make it to my bachelorette party.

Gemini - Kya daddy-cation hai!!!! ;) Let us know when your bacherlorette party is - and with that, pl to send dimesions of this sumo dude too, okay?

Sayesha - Ok let me make it clear... I LOVE John... he's da best... which is why I DON'T WANT HIM TO STRIP!! Mera sacha pavitra pyaar hai woh... uski izzat ko sareaam neelam hote nahin dekh sakti main.. nahiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn :O

Gemini - Kya pyaar hai - ab bipasha kya karegi???

Aarti - So Sayesha doesn't want John.. then give us some strong recommendations Sash else ye sab ladkiyaan John ko hi laakar rahengi!!!

Nirwa - Stripper Options :
1. Satish Shah
2. A K Hangal
3. Alok Nath
4. Mithun Chakraborty / Mimoh Chakraborty
5. Karan Johar :P :P :P

Sayesha - Nahiinnnn Karan Johar nahinnn I LOVE him!!!!!! Meri aakhon ke saamne uska wastra-haran??? Nahiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!
Who da hell is Mimoh? Mithunda ka puttar hai kya??
A K Hangal? Bechara Nangal?? Hehehehee!

Nirwa - I think Karan Johar is gay...

Sayesha - And Karan Johar gay hai toh kya hua, mera pyaar phir bhi sacha hai! SATC fans, gay friends are the loophole of monogamy, remember? ;)

Nirwa - And yeah, Mimoh is Mithunda da puttar! :P Coming soon to a cinema near you.. (psst.. try google image search to see this dude - eewwww)

Sayesha - I want Arjun Rampal!!!! Lekin with clothes on! :|

Aarti - Nirwa, if you wanna see Mimoh or Mithunda strip.. Govinda kya bura hai yaar??? :P:P
Hey Sash.. what is this?? KJ is your pyar, JA is your pavitra pyar.. Kisiko chodoge ke nahi????? Now kindly come up with some real nice suggestions for the stripper, girls.. kya kar rahe ho?? Less than 7 hours for the party and the stripper hasn't been decided yet !!! Btw.. hehehahaha.. A piece of news.. I guess its our great "Himesh" ka happy budday today LOL but am sure none of ul would like to see him strip.. anyone interested in nightmares?? :P:P

Nirwa - Happy Happy Happyyyyyeeeinnn beerrrrththhhhdeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnn
The day I blog about the Gujaratis who changed the world, Himesh Reshammiya is a must on the list..
I vote for himesh as the stripper.. 'mere mere mere.. kapdeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'

World Gal - Hey Bhagwaan!
Did someone dare mention KARAN JOHAR as the stripper??? Eeeeeeeewww....he's SO gay! No, me no homophobic but please, don't do satyanaash of our party.

Okay, I've finally decided the stripper. Remember that Pardesiya guy? Yeah, yeah, the female sucked but please, did anyone notice her hot boss? And that hot 'Ali Baba' in some recent remix too? The one who also modelled for Pulsar? 'These boots are made for walkin' ad...in all black! Ooooh......I remember a blogger telling me his name....it's Muzamil Ibrahim. :D Really really stripper material...errrr....I mean, super hot. :P

And it's Himesh Nasalammiya's birthday?
Ooooooooooooooooooo.....eh.....alright, this proves it. I suck at everything, including mimicking Himesh.

Nirwa - hark hark hark.. yes yes.. i liked that dude.. one vote for him! :P
let's change himesh's name to nakesh gawaiya :P :P :P

Jane - Goodness gracious me! 84 mail threads in this one continuing thread, not counting hte side mails for yahoo ids et al....party yahin ho rahi hai kya sisterlog????

Kuch toh bachke rakho evening ke liye! I eyed all the choices for strippers and now my eyes hurt. I think I need to lie down. The Muzzamil kid is definitely a sight for sore eyes though, pls have pity on my poor heart and leave the Mimohs and Miyyans and Nangals out...as it is, Parekhombie is scary enuff! :P

Sayesha - Yes yes Pardesiya's hot boss is fine with me... yeay! :D

World Gal - Okay, all the chalu sistahs, I'll have extra popcorn too, please. :D And *edges her way past Jane to reach Sayesha* Sayesha, agar uske liye 20 packets aayenge, toh mujhe 40 chahiye! :P

Jane - Oye Nacho World Gal! :P
Are ye gonna be edging your way up to Muzzamil as well??
I don't think so, young lady!
Go and do your homework, NOW!
:D


World Gal - Yes, I am! YES, I AM!!! He's miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!!! Stay away from him, chalu sistah Jane :P *gives a menacing and cold stare*. X-(
You take Karan Johar! Muhahahahahahahahaha
*runs off as fast as her little legs can carry her*. :P

Nirwa - LOL - yeah, Jane, take Karan Johar.. aka Kooo :P (inspired from Poo of k3g)

Jane - Okay-o! *Jane cheerfully picks up Karan Johar, mixes him in the popcorn, listens to the crackling, and when just right, makes a paper cone and hands the popcorn to sweet, innocent li'l Nacho World Gal, who's li'l big mouth is anyways open and ogling at model Muzzammil.*

World Gal - *Munches on the popcorn, suddenly realises that the taste sucks*
Euuuuuuuuughhhhh....kya milaya isme? :O Oh no!!! I'm poisoned!!! :(
dyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiingggggggggggggggg
dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnn
dyyyyyyyyyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
ddddddddddddddddd
*DEAD*

Jane - Koo.....bwahahahhahahahahhahhahahhahaha!! I'm loving' it!
So, Nacho 100th Scrappie Navs.....how didja like my KOO POPCORN?
*EVIL LAFF*

World Gal - *Nacho 100th scrappie Navs can't reply because she's busy thinking of her epitaph one-liner*
thought of it..."excuse my dust" :P
Now, please bury me deep. :|

Jane - Ooopps!! Muzzammil dahling, would you pls revive poor baby here with some CP...err...i mean some crisp popcorn?
Bwahahhahahahhahahaha

World Gal - *Hopes that Muzamil ignores Jane's faltoo ka full form of CP and gives some ACTUAL CP*
ahemmmm.

Sayesha - Muzi sirf mera hai!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Well I can't disclose the details of the party, but the most important thing is that Sayesha had to leave early, and so Muzi offered to drop her home, while the other girls turned a horrible shade of green.

Muahahaha! :D