Baby talk

Baby Aish is home! She's not allowed any visitors for six weeks, but they let me hold her this morning. Finally. Man, I was freakin' scared to hold her, she's so fragile. Her skin felt like velvet, and her fingers are only slightly bigger than my fingernails! :O

Conversations overheard in an apartment in NJ

Sayesha - Her cry is so unique... like she's singing some remixed shastriya sangeet... aaaah... ah ah ah... pause... aaaah ah ah ah!
Mom - Hahaha!
Sayesha - How was my cry? And sister's?
Mom - Your sister's was very musical... very melodious...
Sayesha - And mine?
Mom - Yours... hmmm... yours wasn't very...errr... melodious...
Sayesha - Gee thanks. :/

Sayesha - Now that you're not an illogical pregnant woman anymore, tell me how on earth you made a statement like 'Doesn't she look exactly like your jeeju??' just by looking at the untrasonogram image?? I can hardly make out the head!
Sis - Okay, open the image, I'll show you.
Sayesha opens up the image.
Sis - Okay you see the outline of her face here?
Sayesha - Yeah...Sis - Look at the chin, it's like your jeeju's, isn't it?
Sayesha - Hmmm.. yeah...
Sis - Now look at the nose, you see how it's like his?
Sayesha - Hmm... yeah...
Sis - And you look at the the lips, the upper lip is so like his!
Sayesha - You're right... hmmm...
Sis - So you see??
Sayesha - I can't believe you convinced me. : /

Sis - Oh look, she's looking like your jeeju's sister now.
Sis - And now she looks like your jeeju's brother.
Sis - And now like her paternal grandfather.
Sayesha - Excuse me, doesn't she have anything from her maternal side?
Sis - Oh she does! She's got your fingers and nails... see? Long and slender...
Sayesha - Fingers and nails? That's all?
Sis - You should be happy! All she got from me - her own mother - are my toes!
Sayesha - Hmmm... Okay fine... chalega... : /

Sayesha (on the phone with sis who's in hospital) - So does she like... talk?
Sis - Talk?? Are you crazy?
Sayesha - I mean... does she like... you know... make sounds that are like words in some weird language?
Sis - Sayesha, she's TWO. DAYS. OLD.
Sayesha - Still...?
Sis - No, Sayesha, she doesn't talk. She only cries.
Sayesha - Hmmm...

Sayesha (on the phone with sis who's in hospital) - Watchu doin'?
Sis - Oh I just fed her.
Sayesha - Oh she ate? What did she eat??
Sis - Chawal, daal and sabzi, what else?
Sayesha is stunned at the spurt in sister's sarcasm skills.

Sis - Sometimes she looks like a Korean boy, doesn't she?
Sayesha - Korean??? Boy???
Sis - I'm gonna get her ears pierced as soon as possible, so she can start wearing earrings and look more like a girl.
Sayesha - Are you crazy??? No piercing and nonsense till she's like ten or so!
Sis - Hmm... I feel like putting some nailpolish on her nails then...
Sayesha - With what? A toothpick??

But the most interesting was this one.

Mom (to sis) - So do you want another kid?
Sis - Actually, I don't want another kid. I want Sayesha to get married and have a kid soon, and I want our kids to live so near each other that they grow up like siblings, not cousins.

I believe I was touched and freaked out at the same time.

Update on Aish

"Why are you wearing a woollen top? It's such a hot day!" Mom said just before we set off for the hospital to see my sis and baby Aish.

"I dunno. I'll feel cold on the way back." I said.

Mom looked puzzled. Jeeju had said today was the hottest day so far.

And sure enough, on the way back it rained like mad. The temperature dropped from 36 to 24 degrees. My feet were freezing. But I was warm.

"Dekha dekha?" I bragged to Mom. "I knew."

"Achha baba, you knew." She said.

I guess it's things like this that make my sister have such blind faith in me. Once in a while, I make a random statement and somehow, it happens. Like the time she told me to wish that she'd conceive soon, and I said out of the blue, "Yeah, you'll conceive around your birthday." And sure enough, she did.

Today in the hospital, I finally had a chance to speak to her for a long time.

"I shouldn't have left that message on your voicemail. I made you worry so much on the flight. But I knew your wishes would help. When Aish was admitted and put on IV and the breathing tubes, the doc had said, 'It's upto God now.' I knew that even if there was a 1% chance that your wish would help, I had to take it."

I assured her that she's got many many many people all over the world wishing for baby Aish to get well soon. But when I think of what the doc said, I can only imagine how scared my sis must have been to hear something like that. I mean, they only say this kind of thing in hindi movies, don't they? :(

Anyway, I was a very happy masi in the hospital today. Baby is getting better, though she is still on IV. Hopefully, they'll come home tomorrow evening. The baby's eyes followed me wherever I went. My sis said that's the first time she's done that with anyone. YEAY! :D

I'd posted photos of the baby and me on this post, but my dear friend ROS asked me to not put up pics till the baby is ten days old. So I took them down. Will put them up in about three days.

And yes, I'm really scared of ROS. :P

Say a li'l prayer for her

I often used to wonder why my chhoti masi (Mom's younger sister) loves my sister and me so much.

She only sees us once in a few years. And it's not like she doesn't have any kids of her own, or sons only. She has a son and a daughter, and yet, she adores us like anything.

I used to ask Mom and she would say, "It's a masi thing. I can't explain. You'll know when you become a masi."

But I still used to find it really strange that someone who doesn't even know what kind of a person I am, can love me so much.

Till a few days ago, when I bawled my eyes out for a little girl I'd never seen.

Baby Aish is in hospital. Barely a day after she came home, she had high fever and her heart-rate was low. She's doing better than before but the docs wants to keep her under observation for a day or two more. Every day we wake up hoping that today's the day she'll come home. Apparently, she caught some germs from visiting relatives which included a little kid who had a cold. She was in the ICU where they put her on IV and breathing tubes, because her immune system was not yet ready to handle even minor germs. Every time I imagine the sight of a 3-day-old kid with all the tubes, my heart sinks. My sis said the docs had trouble finding a needle that was small and thin enough for a baby of her age.

I only found out about her being hospitalised a few hours before my flight. I was to fly in the night, and that evening, I received a strange voicemail from my sister. "Call me as soon as you get this. Here's my number. I don't care what time it is, but call before you board the plane, okay? Here's my number again. Call as soon as you get this." I freaked out and called her as soon as I got the message. She told me about baby Aish being in the ICU. "Sayesha, I want you to pray for her. I want you to wish that she gets well. Your wishes are always heard." She said.

I swear I have never been so scared in my entire life. I have no idea how I got by the rest of the day at work. In my mind, I was wishing for her continuously. I knew I was not qualified to pray to God, because I am not religious. I knew that even if I prayed, God, if there is one, would probably not listen to the prayers of a non-believer. All I could do was wish on the basis of my faith -- the faith that nothing bad would happen, and that baby Aish would be fine very soon. But what if faith was not enough? What if you needed something more? My sister had blind faith in my wishing powers, something she's always had ever since we were kids. But did I have so much faith in my own faith? What was it that I could do for baby Aish? I messaged a few friends -- whoever I could contact before my flight -- and asked them to pray for the baby. If not mine, maybe their prayers would be heard. At a time when my family and I were so helpless, and all we could do was wait for news that she was okay, I needed all the help I could get. And that included 'borrowed' faith.

In the middle of the night in the plane, when all my co-passengers were sleeping, I was bawling my eyes out because I could not contact them for the next 22 hours. A few hours after I had landed, I went to the hospital to see the baby -- from a distance though. She was sleeping, so tiny, so precious. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me. I'm sure she must have wondered what kinda bewdi red-eyed masi she's got.

She's doing much better now. Though she's still in the hospital, her fever has subsided and her heart rate is normal now. And in spite of not being religious, I know that she recovered because of all the wishes and prayers of everyone. Those who sent me sms messages saying that she'll be fine, she's got strong genes, she'll be all right with all the love and hopes and dreams she's wrapped safe in. And somehow, I believe that the good wishes of everyone who had read my blog post about her had been added in too. Even those of complete strangers who don't know me. My faith tells me so. I guess that's what faith is really about - whether your faith is in God - or in the faith of others.

So here I am, logging in from a laptop in New Jersey, wishing that baby Aish comes home soon, and thanking everyone who spared a little thought for her. I don't think I've ever been more serious. No jokes today - I just want to thank all of you dil se.

And I finally understand why chhoti masi loves me so much.

While the Saqi is away

So our li'l princess and I were supposed to land on the same day, but she beat masi to it.

"Listen, I obviously can't come to the airport to pick you up," my sis had said over the phone. "I'll be in labour. Your jeeju will also be in the hospital. But his cousin will pick you up. Okay?"

"Of course, don't you worry about me. I won't get lost."

"Lost? YOU getting lost?? Hahaha! Who's worried about you getting lost? Even if you were left alone in the jungles of Africa, you'd make your way back without any problems." She said.

*Gulp* :O

I know why I have this reputation. It's because more than 20 years ago, li'l Sayesha got lost in a crowded market at night, and found her way back without help.

I think I was 2 or 3 years old. Mom, Dad, sis and I were in this noisy and crowded fish market, when I dunno how I let go of Mom's hand and wandered off to watch this huge fish being cut. I stood there in fascination for a while before I realised that I was lost. I looked around at all the knees around me, and realised that none of them belonged to Dad, Mom or my sis.

So I wandered all over the market looking for them, and then finally decided that I could not see them. It was about 9 pm or so, and really dark. But somehow, I didn't cry. Perhaps that's why no stranger came to my aid, because I did not look like I was lost.

Finally, I decided to give up the search for my family and make my way to where Dad had parked his motorbike. (Those were the days, when Dad rode a motorbike and ferried the three of us all over the city.) Waiting there seemed like a good idea. 'Cos no matter where he'd go to look for me, he had to get back to his bike, isn't it?

About half an hour later, they finally turned up. They'd spent an hour looking for me in the market, and then decided to go to the police. You can only imagine how delighted they were to see me standing near the bike. I'd stood there by myself in the dark for over an hour.

The story was, in typical fashion, proudly related to all friends and relatives who fawned over 'how smart li'l Sayesha was'. And before I knew it, I'd acquired the reputation of 'the one who can't get lost'.

And this is what had made my sister make the African jungle reference. Sigh. If only she knew of my Orchard Road adventures.

I'm gearing myself to live up this reputation I'd acquired years ago. So while I try and find my feet in New York, be good, guys. Saqi's taking a long break, but bar's as usual, open to all the bewdas and taporis that hang out here, as long as you sign a declaration at the entrance that you're gonna miss me terribly over the next few weeks. Muahaha! :D

And all those who keep complaining that my posts are too long and too frequent for you to keep up with, here's your chance to catch up with the old wine in the cellars at Sayeshaz.

Fan? Naah!

Warning - If you're one of 'em 'gonna watch Fanaa no matter what' types, I suggest you click the little cross on the top right of this page at once.

Fanaa.

Means 'destroyed. 'Destroyed in love' to be precise.

Well, the movie did not seem to have much of the 'love' aspect, but the disastrous plot full of ridiculous coincidences truly destroyed the movie. After her review on Banaras, Sayesha Smitten the showbiz kitten is back to list how Fanaa methodically destroyed her senses last night.

• Kajol, contrary to the hype, does NOT look good. Okay fine, her face looks good, but what's with the paunch-revealing costumes, especially in the second half? This movie actually justifies why hindi movie heroines (should?) stick to the household after they get married and have kids. After the first half, you actually start wishing Kajol's part was played by her very hot friend Bobo instead.

• Rule of thumb - No heroine with a paunch, no matter how talented and popular, should ever be allowed to sing and get wet in the rain in front of the camera.

• The so-called 'dependable' Aamir Khan proves once again after Mangal Pandey that it's high time he retires from mainstream cinema. His character is so utterly unbelievable that you rub your eyes in disbelief. Which Delhi tour guide would dare to freely touch and hug the girls he's taking site-seeing?

• Kajol keeps spouting idealism about how "Dad says we should... blah blah.." and "Mom says we should... blah blah...". Wonder which of her parents taught her the "Blind girls with high morals should have sex with tour guides."

• Dumb moves by the blind girl such as trying to cross the busy road, the reasoning being, "I wanted to impress you just like how girls and guys try to impress each other on the first date." Sheesh.

• If Aamir looks 40 in the movie, his grandpa, shown hale and hearty, living in harsh conditions in the snow, must be at least a 100 eh?

• The complete lack of chemistry between the lead actors. You just don't see any reason why they would fall in love with each other so madly.

• Now and then, Rishi Kapoor and Kirron Kher nostagically recollect how they met. Dude, no one cares. Not even if you plonk a photoshopped picture of Rishi Kapoor and Kirron Kher from their ye olde days in the centre of the frame for a full ten minutes.

• I have actually started disliking the songs I was in love with, after watching their picturisation.

• Tabu, who I seriously think was better off in her red tights running on the roads after Ajay Devgan, singing 'Ruk ruk ruk' in her Vijaypath days than the moronic role she has in this movie. Two roles actually - one of the mother who's trying to convince her hapless kid into having 'kheer made by grandma' over the phone, and other of the 'psychological specialist' Tyagi who sporadically gasps "That is him! Oh my God!" throughout the movie.

• What an utter waste of the gorgeous Lara Dutta who appears in a 15-second cameo. An 'aisa jadu' type item number by her would have been so welcome.

• Shiney Ahuja. Poor Shiney Ahuja. One would think he would have offers pouring in after 'Hazaaron khwahishen aisi' and 'Gangster'. I wonder what made him accept the script that listed his part as follows: 'Play football. Answer call. Drink tea. Die.'

• Rishi Kapoor's body makes an arduous journey through icy waters and floats under the ice right where Kajol is standing. Someone ask Kunal Kohli what he was thinking.

• Just when I thought the 'refers to himself in the third person' Rehan junior was the saving grace of the movie with his adorable version of the national anthem (watch out for that - it was the only scene worth my ten-dollar ticket), he suddenly broke into very mature statements, which even adults won't make.

• Even Rahul Dravid would wince when Aamir says as the kid implores him to stay, "Main Rahul Dravid ki tarah dependable nahin hoon, mujhpar bharosa nahin kiya ja sakta."

• The highly cliched stupidity with which the whole 'Kajol regains her eyesight' was scripted and executed. Aamir using the rose petals dipped in the 'barkat wala pani' to touch her eyelids, the post-operative three giant white flashes before Kajol immediately starts seeing again, and not to mention the painful, "Ammi, main dekh sakti hoon! Abba, main dekh sakti hoon!"

• How dare they flick the 'Yara yara' tune from Hum Tum and make a stupid tongue-twister song out of it? What were they thinking - we will continue to recycle this tune till it finally becomes a hit?

• Stupid stupid stupid dialogues with annoying repeats of phrases ("Khuda haafiz beta, khuda haafiz" and "main tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon, bahut pyaar karta hoon." and "tum mujhe dubara chhodkar nahin ja sakte, nahin ja sakte") and sometimes entire dialogues too, that may have worked in the 70s, but are so off now, that at one point in time, I turned to my friend and said, "If the chap says 'Rehan aapse jitna pyaar karna hai, aap Rehan se utna pyaar nahin karti." one more time, I will throw my shoe at the screen.

It's amazing how much I hated the movie considering that I am the first to jump to the defence of Bollywood when someone says, "That never happens in real life!" I guess it's because there is such a thing as the ability to pull off scenes and dialogues that seem too unreal and incredible to happen in real life.

DDLJ pulled it off. Fanaa did not.

Luckily for me, yesterday's movie watching experience had one saving grace, that made it worth it.

The alu paratha stall at level 1 of Jade theatre.

The apprentice

Last night, I slept with my fingers crossed.

Literally.

I actually locked myself into a position which made it difficult to uncross my fingers in my sleep.

She was on her way, you see.

Yippppeeeee!!!!! As of 7:30 am Singapore time, I'm a masi I'm a masi I'm a masi. (No, my sis did not have triplets. That's just a very excited me.)

Another round of free drinks to everyone at Sayeshaz bar! Another dhaakki tiki moment, eh?

I finally have someone to impart all my Bhai-giri skills to. Apun ke jaisa bana daalegi usko same-to-same! :D

The proud parents have a nickname for her.
My Dad has a nickname for her.
My Mom has a nickname for her.

"So what are you going to call her?" Mom asked over the phone this morning.

"Me... uhh... I will come up with a nice nick, don't worry! After all, she's my protege! Muahaha!"

So all day I was trying to think of a nick when all of a sudden, a beautiful oldie by Lataji started playing in my head.

With my own modifications, of course.

Mere ghar aayi ek nanhi tapori... :)

Train of thought

Realising that blogging could never be as fun as it has been over the last few days with all the taporigiri in the comments space, I had made fultu plans of retiring from blogsphere in the Bhai-type glory of that post, lekin kismat aur Ipanema Girl ko yeh manzoor nahin tha. :|

So there's this guy I see every morning at the train station on my way to work.

This dude:

- boards the train at the same station as me
- takes the same train as me
- gets off at the same station (which is all the way in the east) as me
- crosses the same overhead bridge as me
- goes to the same bus stop as me
- and even takes the same bus as me to go to work!

(No, he's not a colleague of mine. I am not that crazy. Actually I am, but that's a different story.)

We're past the phase of first conversation or even a 'We take the same train and bus' acknowledgement smile. Which is why it's kinda weird to be around each other every single morning for more than an hour and not say a word. I'm sure he shares my sentiments.

Of course, I could take an earlier train or a later train and end the whole drama. But I can't. There's more to it, you see.

He and I both know the secret to the 7:15 train.

Every morning, at exactly 7:15 am, an unannounced train pulls into Clementi station, without a single person inside!!!!!! :O :O :O

Why is that so strange, you ask? Well, because empty trains don't just happen to Clementi like that. Clementi is probably one of the most crowded stations ever and they can make a full 'Survivor' episode just about getting on a train at Clementi.

I still remember how I discovered this train. Once, just as I reached the station, I saw a train whose doors were just closing, but surprisingly, not everyone on the platform was rushing to get in. There were a few folks, including this dude, who were just standing there, staring at the train. The train pulled away, and yet all these people calmly stood there. I was really surprised. Usually people would dash for the train the minute the doors open, irrespective of whether it's going in the direction they want to go or not.

I looked at the train arrival board and it said 'Next train 5 minutes'. I was all set to wait 5 minutes when I did a double take. A train was pulling into the station. Weird. The board now said 'Next train 4 minutes.' Maybe it was one of those 'unboardables' whose doors don't open, and it moves on without taking in any people.

But I was wrong. The doors opened. People dashed. I dashed. The doors closed. The train moved.

This train was completely unannounced!

Maybe it's a mistake, I thought. A glitch in the otherwise very orderly matrix known as Singapore. But I noted that it happened every single day. It was indeed a regular phenomenon that few people knew about.

I told a friend about it and even dragged him to the station one morning to show him 'the phenomenon' as I called it.

He said with a straight face, "Achha. Must be a train from the shed."

"From the what??"

"Shed. Must be a train from the Clementi shed. It begins its journey at Clementi. That's why it's empty."

Huh? Shed?? That's it? A train from the shed? Every morning, at the same time?! Completely unannounced, completely empty?!

A train from the shed??!!

That's all you can come up with? How boring. Damn you computer engineers. Not an ounce of creativity! Wait, I'll give you the true explanation in a minute.

Remember Andaz Apna Apna where one of the most memorable characters Gogo ji says, "Mogambo ka bhateeja hoon, aaya hoon toh kuchh lekar hi jaunga."?

Well, Sayesha says, "Bollywood ki rani hoon, aayi hoon toh kuchh drama toh hona hi chahiye."

How about this?

The train that pulls in every morning at 7:15 am into Clementi station is not actually empty.

:O

Sayesha Bhai B.Engg

OMG I have lost it.

I have completely lost the ability to pull off a civilised conversation for ten minutes.

My mamaji called yesterday. Now this is the mamaji who was the only one to protest against me taking up the scholarship to come and study in Singapore. I think he thought I would lose my culture and tradition and values and become one of those "bigdi hui NRI chicks" that no one wants as their bahu. I'm actually a bit scared of him, and would like him to believe that I may have changed in certain ways, but I'm still the sweet little girl he knew. Sometimes, I am so eager to make a good impression, it backfires. Take this for example.

His first question, as usual, was "So what's the time there now?"

Only I know how I resisted the urge to say, "Subah ho gayi, mamu!"

Anyway, he told me that his friend's son has received an interview call for a scholarship to study computer engineering here. Mamaji had given his friend my phone number and email address and told them that they could call me with queries.

"Not again!" I was horrified.

Now don't get me wrong here. I don't have a problem with helping people. I only have a problem when I get one of those emails or phone calls asking me how the engineering course here is. I can't tell the truth and I can't lie.

I feel like I am not qualified to answer the question. I have no idea what I learnt in my engineering course. I was never really interested in what I was doing in the course (don't tell my folks, okay?). I made a lot of friends, including seniors and juniors, did tons of ECAs, watched lots of movies and sitcoms. But other than that, if you ask me what I learnt in uni, my mind is a complete blank. My heart was never in engineering. It was always in writing. So after getting my degree, I worked as an engineer for exactly three months, just enough for me to get my Singapore IC. As soon as I got the card, I jumped into children's book publishing, and have stayed there since. My Dad still harbours hopes that maybe some day I will return to engineering.

This afternoon, when Mamaji's friend called, I was in deep deep trouble. Remember the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S in which Ross got really nervous before a lecture and when he started speaking, this weird fake accent came out and he couldn't get rid of it? The exact same thing happened to me when I got the call. It's been so long since I spoke formally with anyone in my own language, that suddenly outta nowhere, all I could think of as I answered his questions was tapori lingo, which caught my tongue and would not let go.

What made it worse was that I had never heard a guy more polite than him. He was referring to me as 'aap'. Sheesh. So I was actually having two parallel conversations at the same time. Tapori Sayesha was speaking in my head, while dignified Sayesha was answering his questions out loud. One miss and I'd be in trouble. With Mamaji, that too! :O

In other words, waat lag gayi apun ki.

(I won't translate the tapori bits... cos that'd be like dubbing Munnabhai MBBS in English. Utterly bleah.)

Uncle - Hello, is this Sayesha?

Tapori Sayesha - Arre yaar! Apun ka number ghumaya toh apun hi uthayega na? Kya re Uncle, aap bhi...

Dignified Sayesha - Yes, this is Sayesha.

Uncle - I'm Mr XYZ. Your mamaji gave me your number and told me that you would be able to help my son with his questions.

Tapori Sayesha - Ab Mamaji bhi na... aise hi sabko apun ka number shumber de dete hain... police ka koi locha hua na... apun toh jayega na saal do saal ke liye andar? Khair laga hi diya hai toh batao... kisko tapkane ka hai?

Dignified Sayesha - Yes, yes, mamaji told me you'd be calling.

Uncle - Actually my son wants to study engineering in Singapore... and I thought you could help out...

Tapori Sayesha - Kya yaar Uncle, chhokre ko zabardasti engineer banakar hi dum loge? Dharti ka bojh halka karo... akha duniya mein kitna hindustani engineers hain, maloom hain? Truck bhar bhar ke aate hain... Pehle poocho chhokre ko, usko banna hai engineer?? Ya aiseich bol raha hai, aapka dhamki se darke... ya wohi sare friends engineer ban rahe hain... toh tum bhi kood pado... poochha hai usko? Usko cirketer banna mangta hoga, F1 racer banna mangta hoga, Indian idol banna mangta hoga... poochha hai kabhi?

Dignified Sayesha - Sure, no problem.

Uncle - He has received the scholarship interview letter... you know... the same scholarship that you went to Singapore on...

Tapori Sayesha - Apun ko apun ki hi Ramayan mat sunao Uncle, junior ko phone do.

Dignified Sayesha - Yes...

Uncle - So I wanted to ask you... is it a good course?

Tapori Sayesha - Poochh diya na wohi tedha sawaal? Riks (sic) nahin lega apun! Ab kya bolega apun... aaj toh apun ka bad luck hi kharaab hai lagta hai...

Dignified Sayesha - Which course has he got the scholarship for?

Uncle - Computer engineering.

Tapori Sayesha - Apun ka field nahin re... apun ko kuchh maloom nai course kaisa hai... achha hi hoenga... sab nerdy nerdy logon ko dekha hai niklate hue... peti-peti kama rahe hain saare! Toh jhakkaas hi hoenga! Apun ko mat poochho. Apun toh thaan liya... bhookha marega lekin engineering mein waapas nahin jayega.

Dignified Sayesha - Ohh... computer engineering? Well, I don't know much about it... cos I'm from Electronics... the two courses are very different from each other...

Uncle - Hmmm.... but what is your general impression?

Tapori Sayesha - Impression? Aap ka sawaal sunke apun ko depression ho raha hai. Ab kya boley apun... Aap bhi na Uncle... chhokre ko yeh bada computer-shomputer kaiku khareedke diya? Maaloom bhi hai raat ko kya kya karta hai yeh computer par? Junior ko bolo ki computer ka kuchh shareefon wala use karey... university ke website par jaane ka... apun dega url... boley toh link hai... course ke baare mein padhne ka... achha laga toh plane mein baithne ka... warna apun ka desh mein options kam hain kya? Jaake baithe IIT mein... kyun, sahi bola na?

Dignified Sayesha - Uncle, I can give you the url of the university, he can check up more details about the course...

Uncle - They say it's a full scholarship... does it mean that I do not have to pay anything? Is the scholarship enough?

Tapori Sayesha - Apun toh araam se heroine ka mafik raha uni mein chaar saal, fokat ka kamai ka khana khaya, har saal India jaake pani puri khane ka paisa bhi usi mein se aaya... lekin aapka chhokra kaisa hai yeh toh aap hi jaano na... Woh toh aapka chhokra par depend karta hai na... daru bazi karenga toh ghar kaisa jayenga... waise agar usko pura nahin padenga, toh tension nahin lene ka... apun dega na achhe se usko... kharcha pani!

Dignified Sayesha - Uncle, the scholarship will cover his university tuition fees and his hostel fees. Plus, there's a monthly stipend. It will comfortably cover everything, including two trips home every year.

Uncle - Can you talk to him for a while?

Tapori Sayesha - Sab interrogation toh aap kar hi liya... ab third degree bhi kar hi lo... chalo de do bache ko phone...

Dignified Sayesha - Sure, no problem.

Kid - Hi... What will they ask in the interview?

Tapori Sayesha - Osama kahan chhupela hai, yeh poochenge. Arre dhakkan, apun ko kya maloom kya poochenge? Apun ka interview toh aath saal paile tha na... ab wohi cheez thode poochhenge same-to-same... market badal gaya hai, duniya badal gayi hai... supari ka rate kitna badh gaya hai bhidu... aath saal purana baat toh yaad bhi nahin rehta... kya?

Dignified Sayesha - They may ask blah blah... and I think you could read up on blah too... and oh, they lay a lot of stress on blah as well...

Kid - Okay. Thanks.

Tapori Sayesha - Oye shyaane! Thanks baad mein. Char peti pahuncha dena aaj shaam saat baje tak. Abhi tu patli gali se nikal le aur babuji ko phone de.

Dignfied Sayesha - No problems.

Kid passes phone back to Uncle.

Uncle - Sayesha, thanks for your help. I will let you know what happens.. if he gets through, you will take care of him na?

Tapori Sayesha - Aap toh apun ko ekdum hila ke rakh diya re! Chain se apun kholi mein baithela tha aath saal... koi rishtedaar nahin akkha Singapore mein... jo chaha kiya, jo chaha pehna... kabhi koi nahin tha reporting karne ko... khali-peeli apun se yeh big-sister type kaam karwayega?

Aur yeh aapka chikna kis type ka khajoor hai, yeh bhi maloom nahin... danga ya panga karega toh bail ka paisa kaun bharega? Yeh Singaapurr hai Uncle... akhi Mumbai nahin hai ki table ke neeche se note pakdaya aur chhokra baahar... idhar aisa hai na... ki ek baar jo andar gaya, woh bhot time ke liye baahar nahin nikalta... apun kaise guarantee lega batao... apun ko bhi rehna hai ki nahin is shaher mein...

Upar se aapka beta edjusting type hai ki nahin pata nahin... fail-wail nahin hoga na? Aur yahan ka keeda makoda kha payega kya? Ghar par zyada laad pyaar kiya kya, ya kabhi ghumaake do haath gaal par bhi jamaya? Yahan uski waat lagi toh? Chhe saal ka bond hai, bond khatam kiye bina do din mein kalti maarega toh apun kya karega batao?

Phir bhi... tension nahin lene ka... apun hai na... aap apun ka mamaji ka friend hai.. madad karna toh apun ka farz banta hai... hafta bhi aapko pura nahin dena hoga... apun dega na discount... bas Mamaji ko bolna ki unki bhaanji bahut susheel aur sanskari type ki hai... kya? Lekin ek baat warn karta hai apun - yeda logon ki tarah over-acting nahin karne ka... woh kya hai na ki zaroorat se zyada susheel aur sanskari bolega toh woh chhokra logon ka line lagega... boley toh... shaadi ke waaste... pan abhi apun ko settle nahin hone ka... kya?

Dignified Sayesha - Sure, Uncle. Not to worry. And oh, you can call me again if you have anything else to ask.

Tapori Sayesha to dignified Sayesha - Aye item, tere ko woh last wala line bolna bhot zaroori tha kya?

Wake me up before you go Goa

"Wow. You look very beautiful!" He said.

"Errr... dude, that's 'cos you're the security guard of my gym. You've never seen me in anything other than a sweaty T-shirt and shorts. Even if I was wearing a torn gunny sack right now, you'd find me beautiful." said cynical Sayesha. In her head.

That's when non-cynical Sayesha realised something.

What is wrong with us? Why can't we take a compliment as what it is - just a compliment? Why do we have to read so much into it?

"Thank you." I said to him.

So where was I headed, dressed to the nines? I was on my way to Goa Nite, when I had bumped into the security guard.

This year, I finally managed to get tickets for Goa Nite - an annual party organised for Goans living in Singapore and their friends. It's supposed to be really happening, with lots of food, fun and fenny, and Goan music. I'd missed it last year and the year before that, and so I was thrilled when my friend Max told me he could get me in this year.

"The dress code is strictly formal, okay?" He said.

"Really?? But why?? It's Goa night, the dress code should be beachwear, isn't it?"

"Well, I don't know why, but last year it was pretty formal too. Suits, evening gowns and stuff."

Darn. So I dug through my wardrobe to see if I had anything suitable. I discovered three evening gowns, two from my seniors' farewell nights, and one from my own. But I felt I would not be able to freely dance in them. Especially to Goan music. Anyway, 'formals' for men and women can be defined so differently. There's a lot of stuff that we gals can pull off as formal, unlike guys.

And that's when my little red halter-neck dress caught my eye. I'd bought it in Manila with my airport tax money but never really had the chance to wear it. But it looked perfect for this occasion.

Every dress has its destiny, and this one's was Goa Nite.

So just before the party, I spoke to Max again on yahoo.

"What are you wearing?" I asked him. In retrospect, a question like that, asked on chat, sounds really seedy! :/

"A suit. You?" He asked.

"A little red dress. Should be formal enough I think."

"Little red dress? How is it like?"

"Uhh... it's little... and it's red."

"It's not a bikini, is it?"

Sheesh. It was not that little. But I did take a black embroidered shawl - which I fondly refer to as 'the hole-y shawl' along for protection against the cold. (Boy, was I glad I did.)

It's not every day that you get to dress up for a party. I usually don't get a chance to really dress up for anything, so I was really excited. I felt like a kid who could not wait to put on her 'party dress'. Four hairdos later, I decided on straight hair. After spending a good fifteen minutes straightening my hair, I spent about five more hoping that it wouldn't rain, 'cos nothing kills straightened hair like humidity in the air. Hey that rhymed! :D

When we reached the venue, I was suprised to see the crowd. There were hundreds of people, their ages ranging from 3 to 60, half of them all over the dance floor, and the other half seated on the tables on the two sides. There were six of us in our group - four guys and two girls. We were each given a mask, and to my utter delight, mine was red, a perfect match with my dress.

They had got a band from Bombay. When I first saw the band of two, I was really disappointed, but boy, did they a pack a punch. Every song they sang drove us nuts on the dance floor, especially the Goan songs. The band was urging the people to sing along, and everyone obliged. Everyone except the six of us. None of us knew the freakin' lyrics to any of the songs! The emcee got off the stage and choreographed this silly dance where we formed a big circle (can you imagine the diameter??!!) and basically went round and round holding the shoulders of the person in front of us. Was super duper fun.

Regardless of their age, Goans are amazingly chilled-out people. Even though my friends and I had brought down the average age of that party by a little, some of the people there effortlessly outdid us in terms of energy and dancing skills. When I looked at this 40-something couple dancing, I could see that it was not just the band's music that kept them going, it was the music in their spirit which made them so lively. And I'd seen that music in the spirit in every Goan I'd encountered during my Goa trip in 2004.

I'd gone to Goa two years ago with five of my cousins. Four guys and a girl from different parts of the world. I was to fly from Singapore to Hyderabad (Dad was posted there then) for a week, and then set off for Goa. I still remember how shocked my parents were at the idea of me taking a domestic flight alone. Three of my cousins were flying down from the UK, one was coming from Delhi, and the other from Calcutta. Luckily, our landing times were within the hour. I was waiting at the airport for their flights to land when I spotted Pooja Bedi. She never really made it big in Bollywood but I must admit she still had a fantastic body. She looked kinda disappointed 'cos no one was giving her bhaav. I would have obliged but my luggage was too heavy.

Our tour guide was this really cute and funny guy called Savio (okay, is everyone in Goa named Savio or what?) and he kept cracking jokes in the bus. "In Goa, fenny is the biggest source of income... and hangovers." He said with a straight face during our tour of Panjim. I laughed my lungs out. My cousins rolled their eyes and said, "That was not funny." I rolled my eyes back at them and said, "Jealous buggers." I got teased like hell after that. "Oooh, looks like our little sister has a crush on our cool tour guide, eh?" Savio took us to the place where Dil Chahta Hai was shot, and the five of us sat at the same spot where the three friends had sat and stared at the ship.

We stayed in the Taj Holiday Village. We had two huge villas connected by one door. I set down the ground rules. One of the rooms was called 'the smoking room' where the guys had to migrate if they wanted to smoke, and the other was the 'non-smoking room' which was inhabited by me most of the time. "You can't pollute both rooms, okay?" was my logic.

I found a card on the dressing table that said 'Complimentary yoga at 6 am for all guests'. I have no idea how, but I manged to read it as 'compulsory yoga at 6 am for all guests'. Suddenly I was freaked out by visions of the room service guys dragging the guests out at 6 am and making them forcibly sit and do yoga! Then one of the guys pointed it out to me. (And I call myself an editor. Sheesh.)

That afternoon, as we frolicked in the beautiful pool, we saw Kapil Dev, complete with family walking towards the pool. My cousin Sid dashed back to our villa to fetch his camera, but by the time he had put on his shades, adjusted his hair, checked his biceps and returned with the camera, the Devs were gone. But the rest of us had had a chance to speak to him and shake his hand.

"Shucks man... can't believe Kapil Dev is in the same hotel as us!" Said one of the guys.

"You know what this proves?" I asked.

"What?" They asked.

"Kapil Dev and we have the same budget! Muahahaha!" I said.

They gave me strange what-have-you-been-drinking looks.

I still remember the discussion the five of us had at midnight on the beach about careers and money and ambition. I sipped my orange juice and watched my brothers get high and senti. Is it me or do guys everywhere turn senti when they are high? It's hilarious to hear them talk. All the blackmailable stories start coming out.

The mention of alcohol brings me back to Goa Nite. At the dinner table, there was an elderly couple sitting next to me. When they started serving fenny, the old man turned to talk to me.

"Fenny is the best, isn't it?" He asked.

"Well, I don't know... I haven't tried it before, but now I will."

"Oh! You're not a Goan??" He asked.

"Nope." I smiled.

"Well, you should try fenny... but be careful." He warned.

I had barely sipped about 2 mm of the feni, when I realised why the old man had warned me. It was incredibly strong. I could not drink it by itself. It was only when I'd poured the whole thing into my glass of Coke that I could take a few more sips. Halfway through dinner, most of the people were back on the dance floor. Poor band. Then started another crazy round of dancing when the band played some hindi songs. I had never thought I'd enjoy myself so much dancing to the remix version of 'Woh lamhe'. Suddenly, I missed my old gang, especially Sinnerman and American Pi.

Sigh, why do good friends go away from you?

Later on, they had a few contests, the first of which was so hilarious. The emcee announced, "The prize will go to the person who can show me a one-rupee coin!" One-rupee coin?? Who the hell would have a one-rupee coin?? And yet, there was a mad rush, but no one could produce the coin. So the contest was changed it to "Who has a 100-dollar note?" A few such contests followed, such as 'longest earrings' (I almost won this one!), 'greatest number of buttons', 'shortest skirt', etc.

The millions of kids running all over the dance floor were quite a hazard, yet we danced like crazy. I had not danced like that in a very long time. I don't frequent clubs anymore, mainly because I don't like to come back with my hair and clothes smelling of cigarette smoke. So Goa Nite was the ultimate party for me - a smoke-free dancefloor! Yippeeeeeeeee!

I feel like visiting Goa all over again. Recently, I watched Socha Na Tha for the 7th time, and the Goa scenes stayed in my head, particularly the Abhi abhi song.

Goa teri har adaa ke, hum toh deewane ho gaye...
Zindagi jeene ke yahan pe, kitne bahaane ho gaye...

Kal yaad aayenge yeh pal

KK
First encounter - Video of his first album 'Pal' on TV
First impression - Who's this dude? Nice unique voice... never heard of him though... and what's with the weird name man?

Second encounter - The song 'Tadap tadap' from 'Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam'
Second impression - WHOALA!! Who's the singer who's the singer who's the singer???

Recent encounter - The song 'Tu hi meri shab hai' from 'Gangster'.
Recent impression - The dude really puts his heart into the song. And it stays in your heart for a very very long time.

Sunidhi Chauhan
First encounter - Meri Aawaz Suno contest on TV
First impression - Whoa, doesn't this contest have a minimum age for entry? (Does anyone remember her as that kid in the little dress, the lacy socks, the very short hair and the thick hairband, singing 'Chhod de sari duniya kisi ke liye' and waat-lagaoing the grown-up contestants week after week till she finally emerged the winner?)

Second encounter - The song 'Ruki ruki si zindagi' from 'Mast'
Second impression - Wow, this chick has a powerful voice man. What's her name? WHAT?? She's that KID from Meri Aawaz Suno????

Recent encounter - 'Jaane kyun' from 'Chameli', 'Le chale' from 'My Brother Nikhil' and 'Mere haath mein' from 'Fanaa'.
Recent impression - She sounds brilliant in non-item number songs. She should sing more of 'em.

Last encounter with both - In the Sunidhi-KK live concert last night


































KK opened the show with 'Yaaron'. Here, he's urging the crowd to sing along with him. Errr... yeah, we did. And he said, "Arre wah, aap log itna saare hain yahan... phir bhi sur mein gaa rahe hain?" ("Wow, there are so many of you here... and yet you guys are singing in tune?") You know how I have a soft corner for hindi-speaking guys from non-hindi speaking states. Mallu guy (and boy, can he sing!) cracks a joke in fluent hindi. Is it any wonder why I like him so much? :P




















That's Sunidhi singing Whitney Houston's "I will always love you". She surprised us with the fantastic job she did with the song.















Sunidhi sang almost all her famous item-numbers. The Uncle and Aunty sitting in front of me were doing ballistic bhangra.
















The back-up dancers had really weird costumes.-Check out the guys in their silly peacock costume. Sheesh. :/
















Where there are birds, there are bees. So here come the bumblebees! Wait, it gets better! :/
















Bees? Did you say bees? Ah, thank goodness the bee-catchers are here!
















Bad: KK and Sunidhi lacked chemistry.
Worse: They only sang two songs together.
Worst: They did not sing 'Le chale', the only song that each has sung a version of!!!!!! :O
















There was pin drop silence in the crowd when he sang 'Tadap tadap' with only one accompaniment. That song itself was worth the 80-dollar ticket. Wish Salman's expressions in the movie had done justice to the song...















KK put his heart and soul into every song he sang. Last night, his humility and talent created magic together. Dus bahaane karke le gaya dil :)

Lasting impression: Sunidhi may have brought the crowd to its feet, but KK brought me to my heart.

Hum... rahein ya na rahein kal
Kal... yaad aayenge yeh pal
Pal... yeh hai pyaar ke pal
Chal... aa mere sang chal
Chal... soche kya, chhoti si hai zindagi
Kal... mil jaayein toh hogi... khushnasibi...
Hum... rahein ya na rahein... yaad aayenge yeh pal...