The New Year Is Here

It's the last seven hours of 2011.

There have been ups and downs, days when I've hated everything around me, when I've wanted to sit down and cry for a long, long time.

But there have been those, perfect, snap-a-picture-and-frame-it moments too.

Too damn bad, that those moments never stand out, when it counts.

So today, I went over every picture clicked this year. And I saw my face, happy, surrounded by people I love, and who love me. And it hit me, that I have a lot to be thankful for.

So I'm going to thank everyone I can, right here, so that they know they matter.

Urmi Das: You're the best friend, the sister, that unofficial family member. You've been making every year beautiful since 2006. You're the reason I have confidence in myself, and the reason I can stand up for myself. You're the one I let my hair down with, the oli person I sexy-dance with. I love you, cheers to another year of you and I.

Isha Maniar: What can I say lady, you're the classiest person I know. Also, the oli one who cusses like a fisherwoman, and looks adorable while she's at it. You're my favorite part, of each day, coz  thats the oli time, I am myself again.

Trushank Dedhia: You made this year bearable. You made it all okay. You stuck by me, you've supported me, you've been there for me, and you've looked after me. In so many ways, and then some, you've been the reason 2011 passed so smoothly. 

Vidit Mantri: It doesn't take a lot, to make someone smile. But it takes a lot of heart, to do that, when you don't want to smile. Thank you, for making me smile, and restoring my faith in men.

Aditi Pol and Nicole Anthony: Thank you. You know why. I don't need to say it.

Alistair Fernandes: For the talks. When I needed them. And for helping me through, when I was as muddled as muddled gets.

Aryaman Rajpurohit: For helping me realize the strength I have.

Raj Mohite: For being you. And for teaching me nothing about life is permanent. Not even the things most dear to us. For support when I was frantic and harassed. For letting me see the best in me. For never, ever letting me lose hope. And for giving me your arrogance, to make me believe I'm better than others.

Nikita Bangera: For being my most girlish of girlfriends, and for teaching me everything I know about, well, let's just leave that a secret.

If  I missed you out, its unintentional. I'm sorry.

Thank you, and Happy New Year.

Much love,

Your Cynical, and Ever-the-Romantic,

(:

To Tell A Story

I always smoke in the rickshaw.
Some people I know, can't, say its too windy. But I have to smoke in the rickshaw.
So that day, I get into a rickshaw, and am about to light up a smoke, when the rickshaw wala says, मत पीजिये Madam, मुझे नहीं जमता  . (Don't smoke Madam, I'm not comfortable with it)
I said, धुआं बहार छोडती हूँ, मुझे cigarette पीना है .(I'll let the smoke out, I need to smoke)
He didn't say anything, and I lit up.
When I reached my place, he says, Madam  उतरने पर मेरा गला देख लीजिये  .(When you get off, take a look at my throat)
I did, albeit very disinterestedly.
He had a long scar, from one end of his throat to the other. He had had throat cancer. From tobacco. I was so stunned, I didn't stop to ask him details.
I took a hit that day. I was embarrassed, frightened, and shocked.
A lot of people tell us to quit smoking, and about the ills of smoking etc.
And yet, nothing hits us, straight in the gut. Not till you experience it yourself. Till then, you refuse to listen. You've heard all they've said, but you haven't listened.
That rickshaw wala, whose face I'll never forget, touched a nerve. He affected something in me. Something in me shifted, and I didn't quite know, how to face it. I'm bad at confrontation, and this was the hardest form of confrontation: Confrontation with Myself.
After a lot of running away, and then a lot of messy, and won't-let-you-get-away thoughts, I came to a conclusion.
I'm quitting smoking. On the New Year's. To celebrating, exactly two years of smoking, and a healthier lifestyle.
And I'm hoping, I can influence other's too.
Kudos,
Your Cynical and Hopefully Healthier Romantic,

She Got Me Thinking

"When did being alone, become the modern-day equivalent, of being a leper?  Will Manhattan restaurants soon be divided up into sections -- smoking/ non-smoking, single/ non-single?" - Carrie Bradshaw, from Sex And The City

Today on BBM, I saw someone's status saying, 'Everyone has that special someone, oli I'm alone.'
Ufff.
Arey lady, have you ever stopped to think HOW lucky you are, NOT to have to fight with someone, you love beyond reason? How much money you're saving on birthdays and anniversaries? Sorry, I know its extremely stupid, but its true. We all think it, after a relationship ends.
You never have to call someone as soon as you're up, to 'check in'.
If you get held up at work, the oli person going frantic, is your mother. And if your Mom's like mine, not that either.
You will never get sloppy with your dressing. I know this sounds backward, but the more single you are, the more you dress up, and want attention.
Once you're in those 'comfortable' relationships, your fashion sense drops, you don't mind going out with unwashed hair, ill fitting clothes, you don't get waxes as often, and you never worry what people think of your new outfit. Coz your boy/girlfriend is sure to love it, no?
This is from a girl's point of view of course. I'm not sure what is sloppy for a man. They're generally sloppy by nature. So, maybe you don't change underwear in a comfortable relationship? Does that count?
For those whose parents don't approve, you rarely need to lie, you don't need to smuggle gifts in and out, you never have trouble saying, he/she's just a friend.
And you'll never, never be too busy for a friend. Or text constantly when you're with a friend.
You won't have to juggle weekends between friends, sleep, and your respective other.
Why aren't you counting the blessings? You're not compromising, not watch your ego die a painful death, or
having to worry about a breakup, or the future, 'where your relationship is going' etc.
I'm sure you half-of-a-whole(s) are happy. But I'm single. And I'm happy. And I know lots of people who are single, and very happy.
We've got everything going for us.

Except, that someone who'll hold your hand, just because.

Still smiling,
Much love,
Your Cynical Romantic.
(:

Happy Birthday, Little One

"I don't know how to fight, but I'd draw blood tonight, if somebody tried hurting you."- Plain White T's 

You're five.
You're beautiful. You're everything special, and good, in my life.
Before we got you home, I didn't know, what a blessing a dog can be. You've taught me, what it is, to love, unconditionally.
In you, I see all that is good in myself. Coz for you, I willingly wake up at all hours of the night. For you, I give up food I like. For you, I sacrifice the few hours of reading I get over the weekend, coz you want to play. With you, I am patient. I rarely lose my temper. For you, I am strong. I protect you. I would kill for you. Just as I know, that you'd rip out the throat of anyone who hurts me.
You're the peace in my life. When I come home at 2am, exhausted, and hating everything, sitting with you, in the dark, and listening to you breathe, is as close to Heaven as I'll ever get.
You're no angel. You've ruined my shoes, my books, my make-up. You've peed on me, I've had to clean up your poop, and wash your fat bum, when you have loose motions. You're stubborn, and spoiled.
You make me hold your bowl of water, even when I have backaches. I'm allergic to your hair, and your saliva makes my skin swell up.
You treat me like dirt some days, simply coz I'm 'younger'. When you were a lot younger, you snapped at me, in anger and frustration. You forgot all that a minute later. You licked away the tears, the pain you inflicted had caused. You rest your head in my lap, when someone breaks my heart, and its all okay again.
When he left, I weeped my heart out. You stayed there the entire time, never moving, never tiring. I'd never felt more loved. Losing him, was okay, coz I have you.
You listen to my best friend's problems. She tells me that you listen better than I do.
You're the glue that holds me together. If you hadn't entered my life, I'd never be this person.
I never cared so much for anyone. But now, I put you first. When I come home late in the night, even when I'm hungry and sleepy, I  make sure I give you fresh water. And play with you. Not out of a sense of obligation, but simply coz, its you, and I love you.
Never before, has any face made me so happy. When I see your brown nose, and listen to you snore in your sleep, I feel calm. Like life has fallen into place.
When I get you new toys, or food you like, and your eyes light up, and your tongue falls out, and you stare in anticipation, I store that image of you in my heart.
Little snaps of you, are hidden away in my heart. Someday, when you're not here, I will remember and cry.
But then I will smile, coz you changed the girl I was. Made me a better person. Made my life happy. You brought love into my life. When I was in danger of losing faith in love, you restored it. You've made me care. You've brought me back from the brink. Someday, you won't be here. But your memories will.
But for today, you're five. And you're here. And that's enough.

Love,
Your Very Human Sister.

This should have been up, on the 3rd. Honey was ill all of yesterday, and I was working before that. So this is late.
Apologies.

In Response To

Dear All,
This is in response to Isha, for telling me that my previous post, was specifically targeting a community.
My apologies.
It wasn't intended that way. The guests that evening, were Punjabis, and so I mentioned them.
This, however, isn't a generalization.

Kthxbai.

Much love,
Me.
;)

Smile, Even When Your Cheeks Hurt, And Your Hand Is Burnt.

I'm doing my Bachelors in Hospitality and Tourism Management. A slightly glorified version, of the Hotel Management program.
Also, for now, I'm a glorified, and classier कामवाली बाई.
A major part of our course requirements, for graduation says, that in the First Year we need to complete 20 waitings. Waiter-giri basically.
My most striking waiting, out of 5 waitings, was the one at the Intercontinental-The Lalit. It was a Punjabi wedding reception. I had to do a mocktail service, and then the starter service.
I learnt a lot of things. One, Punjabis love food. Two, Punjabis love paneer. And three, Punjabis are loud.
The women looked down their noses at me. They would ignore my very presence if they didn't want what I was serving. Some women however, are highly amusing. There was this one, lady?, who I was serving soft drinks to. She's the size of a heavy-duty bulldozer, and has a face that looks like it got run over by aforementioned bulldozer. She has it in her, to ask me for a Diet Coke. Yes lady, that'll help you get skinny. Definitely.
Another, similarly sized lady?, with enough make-up to last Dolly Bindra, a year, picked up FIVE pieces of Paneer Tikka, and then says, in a terrible Punjabi affected American accent, "Eh my God, so much oil." And then winks at me like a fellow conspirator, saying, "Can you imagine the calories?" No, I can't. I'm not the size of a baby elephant. I don't count calories. Just money.
Oh, and the men. The dirty, sleazy bastards. I wear, man-pants, a shirt twice my size, and a waistcoat and bow. They still give me the eyeball, brush up all over me, and into me. I wanted to die of embarrassment. However, being a good student, I settled for smiling sweetly, and giving them every माँ  की, बहन की gali, I knew, in the safety of my head. They smoke like chimneys, and drink like fish!! And get a little drunker each time I pass them. And louder. Till I couldn't wait to serve them, just so they'd shut up as they ate.
A colleague mentioned, some old lady, with barely any teeth, kept pestering her for Fresh Lime Soda. We have reason to believe, the old crone, was not all there.
They complained that they weren't being served the starters. So they'd grab, and shove, and throw used cocktail sticks at me, give me dirty looks, if I eyed the way they ate etc.
The salver was heavy. I can safely say it weighed as much as a girl's over-night bag.. I burnt myself on the starter ka chotu plate and burner. Some kid, put ketchup on me. A man threw his half chewed Baby Corn Fritters at me, coz it wasn't hot enough. I was embarrassed, insulted, over-worked and sick.
All in all, one of my funnest nights ever! I felt like I was playing a part in a movie, or a stage show. It was amazing. And yes, I am a little weird, I'm ill, and on antibiotics. Cut me some slack.
But mostly, I'm just worried, a teacher will find this page, and I'll be kicked out of college.

Cheers!
The Cynical and Harassed, Romantic.
(:

Dear Best Friend, It's Your Birthday in 8hours.

Isha Maniar,
It's your birthday in 7 and 1/2 hours. You're turning 18.
Now you can buy us cigarettes legally.
And drive, when you finally learn. Even though I won't let you. Women drivers, you know how I feel.
Now you can tease me, about still being 17.
You can have sex, legally.
You're all grown-up, and pretty. I feel like your Mommy. Coz just today, we went through our old photus, and trust me when I say, we were ugly back then. Now you're pretty, and smart, and all set to be a hot lawyer. But you're still my best friend. I've changed too. We've changed, but the friendship hasn't. Won't.
I don't laugh so hard with anyone.
I wouldn't sing songs from Kaante about cigarettes with anyone else. No one else I know, makes evenings so peaceful, with just the smoke around us. Silence is comfortable with you, not awkward.
If it wasn't for you , smart conversations wouldn't happen, and I'd lose out on intelligence. Not to mention, an extra family would be lost.
Every year, something messes up your birthday.
This year, I'm trying extra hard to make it perfect.
Coz the trash is out of your life. And you're with someone who deserves you. And I rarely think anyone deserves you.
This year, and for the years to come, we'll make our birthdays perfect.
And we'll honor our pact. We'll be there with each other for every birthday.
I promise to fly to whatever part of the world you're in, to see you on the 26th of November, every year.
And if someday, some husband kicks up a fuss, I'll dump him for you.
But you must give me cake.
Every year. And if I get fat, don't tell me, tell me I could stand to gain some, and make me eat cake.
And I'll make you feel special, and prized every year.
Coz though I don't say it much, I'm lucky to have you.
And since I'm not good with I love yous, I'm trying today.
I love you. Very much.

Neha.
:*

Thunderstorm

" And we'll run together , with the grass under our feet and the stars above, forever" 

I thought I'd write about that dream. My dream.
He walked into the room. So cocky, so self-assured, with the kinda confidence I always wanted, but never could manage. He knew they'd stare. And they did. I did too. I couldn't help myself. Mr. Perfect, had walked into the room, giving me the, 'You'll never get me' look. I was bowled over right then.
Who knew, in a year, he'd be the guy I'd have the most fun talking to? That I'd be someone, he could share it all with? That I'd love him, despite of, or because of, how difficult he was. I hadn't thought it possible.
Yet, one night, he's on the phone, and he's telling me he likes me, and he wants me to date him, and I'm sure I'm dreaming, and its like I'm living another's life.
But it never works. Coz fate's against us. Everything's against us. He tries. When I'm not feeling too generous, I say he didn't try hard enough. But most days, I say he tried. He did all he could. I did too.
But how do two people, with everything going wrong for them, fight the odds?
It ended. Fading away. With no confrontations. Coz there wasn't time for them, either.
And yet, he won't go away. He's always right there, somewhere in the corners of my mind. I'm not lost, without him, yet he's still a major part of who I am.
He's the oli person, who I genuinely have fun talking to. He hasn't changed in almost 4 years. I know him, even things he's never said. I just get him. Like I've known him all my life.
He's the oli one who says the right things when I'm upset. He doesn't say things, to make me feel better, but they're the right stuff.
He's like a thunderstorm. He comes by, once in a while, but each time, he awes me, stuns me, and captures my heart again. He takes my breath away. And then he's gone again.
He's enough. For now. And yet, I dream of a future, where he's there for me, in every way there is, and then some. A forever, with him. I'm settling, but he's my dream. My thunderstorm. That flash of intense light, the roar of emotions, he wakes in me.
I've stopped trying to fight it. He's nothing I can explain, and everything that I understand. I have no words, to explain the man he is, and yet every word I've known and comprehended, has a bit of him in it.
He's part of my every moment.
He's a part of me.
My dream. My nightmare.
My thunderstorm.

No Harm Dreaming

"Rough winds do shake, the darling buds of May. And Summer's lease, hath all too short a date.- Shakespeare"

You're my May baby. Strong-willed, creative, troubled, courageous. Lost, I want to save you. Even when I know, that I need saving too. So maybe we'll save each other. Maybe one of us won't die. I'm not mean, I'm not Rose, I'll let you up on the plank with me. And while we're saving each other, maybe we'll learn to fix our problems. instead of finding hiding places, deep within ourselves, away from the world.
Because that's how we are. When things get hard, we make a world within us, where no one else enters. Some days, in your world, I don't find entry either. So maybe, just maybe, we'll learn to deal. And maybe, I'll get wiser. And you, you'll get more optimistic. And we'll get more tolerant of the people around us. It'll make us a lot  more peaceful, if not happier, I'm thinking. Maybe, someday, we'll grow up a little more.
And when we do that, maybe we'll find what makes us, truly happy.
And maybe, hopefully, we'll be together when that day comes.
Just maybe.

Coz really? No harm dreaming.
Much love,
Your Cynical Romantic.
(:


P.S. :- This one's for you. Coz you asked me not to be so bitter. And coz this makes you hopeful. I like when you're hopeful. 

From Flowers, To Schizophrenics

Flowers are pretty.
But they die.
Morbid thought, forgive me.
Why do men give us women flowers? What is it supposed to signify? I want you to have these fresh flowers, which will wilt tomorrow, just like in a few years, you will too?
And chocolates? Why? Are they saying, you're going to get fat anyway, why don't I help speed it up?
Men are funny creatures, aren't they? They want to open doors for you, and want to be the Big Strong Man all the time, and still say things like, I love you for your independence. They hate it, if you're too busy to call, but hate it if you call too often. Want you to look pretty, get annoyed if you get leery looks from other men.
What's a girl to do?
It's a hard world to live in. If you're too pretty, women don't like you. If you're not pretty, men don't like you!
Really, you can't blame me for being neurotic.

Oh well. Must keep on the search, for answers to my random, extremely imperative questions. And obviously, that elusive, true love.
Because God's truth? I'm in love with a schizophrenic. A crazy, not-all-there, amazingly intelligent, lives-in-an-alternate Universe, schizophrenic. And I'm worried that, THAT is true love.

Much love,
Your Cynical Romantic.
(:

Under Done, Sunny-Side Up

They never quite tell us, that when we reach the finish line, it doesn't feel as good as we thought it would.
See, I had an amazing fight. You know how usually, after a fight, people think of all the comebacks they could have used? None of that, this time. I was smart, and cheeky and so tongue-in-cheek rude, and I should have felt awesome at the end of it.
But I felt like crap. Like utter crap. I tried telling myself, its momentary, like postpartum blues or something. But I don't think so. It was supposed to be funny, for me, and he was supposed to say, I'm sorry you're cooler than me, or something along those lines, that isn't as corny.
But he didn't.
And I have too much of an ego, to do anything about it.
I'm stuck, aren't I?
They're never quite honest with us, are they?

Also, who is 'They'?

Much love.
(:

Happily Ever Afters- Disney's lies

"No matter what happens, I'll always be with you. Forever"- Pocahontas

How many times have I heard my best friends say, "You're an extremely complicated girl Neha."
I didn't want to agree. Now I do. Coz they're right. I came to this conclusion myself. Has to be hard, dealing with someone whose thought processes jump a mile a minute. And I don't even know the measure of a mile.
I used to be delusional. I believed the best of everyone I met. Why would they walk away? Surely they'll stay, if I don't do anything wrong. Coz its always my mistake, see?
Do I still think this way? I don't think so. I still believe the best of people. But people leave. Dogs also leave, and they're better than people. You'll also leave, even though you're so good for me, its silly. You're making me laugh, and you're there when I'm cranky and hurt. You put no pressure on me. But you'll leave too.
I won't hold it against you.
I'm not believing in Happily Ever Afters anymore. Much as I want to. They don't exist. Coz there's always more.
In all those fairy-tales, did they ever show us what happens, after the Prince takes his Princess away to that Happily Ever After? Nah. Coz that's where the fights are, the childbirth, the noisy kids with the leaking noses, the housework, the annoying husband, who scratches his belly, and yells for a beer and his dinner.
Life is weird. I guess we're all just living, coz death isn't here yet.
Love isn't on the cards. Not for me. Though I have to admit, love stories make me misty-eyed. And a good love story, makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. But love stories are for other people, yes?
Not for me.


P.S.- About the quote, for those of you'll who haven't watched Pocahontas, the stupid girl, left poor John Smith. So she was lying when she said, forever. Just saying. Even Disney lied.


Much love,
(:

Of Mysore Pak, And Easier Days

She's come home finally. She was just gone a week, and yet I missed her coz it was the holiday season and I associate the holidays with her.
I'm talking of my best friend. The one I've had since 8th grade, the one who makes me laugh till my tummy aches, the one who I love as if she were a part of me.
If it hadn't been for the class teacher in 8th grade, who didn't want me sitting with Isha, I would have probably never spoken to Urmi. Then I sat next to her, and I'd sing verses from Eminem's songs till she wanted to stuff socks in my mouth to shut me up! And in a month, she'd gone from being just some girl, to my best friend. We cemented it the next year, when she stuck by me, when I needed it the most. We've been through the emotional up and downs of the bad boyfriends, and the worse break-ups. It's never changed. We've grown up, we've become different people, with a new, completely different set of friends. We're studying in fields, the other does not understand. It doesn't matter. We see each other once a week, sometimes lesser. Coz we're both such busy people now. We're always in college, doing this, and writing that, and studying this, presenting that. But when it comes down to it, she's still my Ibni, and I'm still her Lalu. (don't ask)
Every year, during Navratri, I go to the Durga Puja with her. Not because it holds a special interest for me, but simply coz its with her. During Diwali, my Mommy makes sweets with her in mind. Every year when the Mysore Paks are made, she says, have I made enough for Urmi also?
Its lonesome this year. She had her examinations during the Durga Puja. And she was in Kolkata during Diwali. The holidays aren't the same without her. Mumbai's not the same without her.
I saved Mysore Paks for her. Coz then it'll be Diwali for me.
She doesn't have to know every detail of my days, she doesn't need to call me everyday. That's not our love. Our love's just there. Its a connection. If it was anyone else, I would have forgotten all about the person ab tak. But not her.
She's finally home. Mumbai already seems happier.
I'm not cribbing, but I miss the days, when you were around me all day, and we'd bunk class and go sit at Barista. They were easier.
But still, you're home. And I'm happy.

Much love.
(:

9th Grade.
I've never seen us happier. Right here, are the most genuine smiles ever.

10th Grade.
I'm grinning this way, coz I know, that wherever we go, I'll always love you this much, as will you

We grew a little older, and a lot prettier together.

You'll never agree, but you look adorable here.
Ibni. <3

The Boy Who Killed Santa

"On the first day of Christmas, I murdered Santa Claus."-Eric Matthews

That's what you're like. You're like acid. Corrosive. Painful. Hurting yourself, and those around you. You don't want to, and yet you're doing it. And it kills me, that I cannot help.
Some days, I want to give you bear hugs, coz you're sweet like that. Some days you say such profound things, I'm in awe of you. And there are days when you're as dreamy as I am, and just as cynical, and your words move me to tears.
And then there are days like today. When you're horrid. Not to me, not because of me, but just because. And you push me away. And everyone else.
Then one day, it all comes out. And it hits me in a wave.
I want to help. Just let me sit by you. And if I can't make it okay, I'll still sit by you. Not because I understand, or can share your pain. But simply because, you like it better, when I'm there.
I love you, despite of and because of who you are.


Much love.
(:

My Pet Peeves

Hello again, humans.
My second post, and I'm thinking of cribbing. Just a little bit.
So here goes.
1. You know what I hate? How, in a juice carton, even after there's no juice left, you can still hear the juice in the damn carton!! Is it mocking me?
2. There are too many people in the world. No matter where I am, with the exception of my bedroom, and my bathroom, I always have to rub shoulders with people.
3. I hate wet bathrooms.
4. I hate people who crush my cigarette butt for me.I will tie you up, and throw you in shark-infested waters. It's my cigarette. Get your own. Non-smokers, you don't have to crush a cigarette butt anyway.
5. I do not want you saying you want to marry me. Don't do it.
6. Don't tell me P.S. I Love You is stupid. I like it more than I like you. Whoever you are.
7. Don't crib about my cuckoo clock. Oli Isha gets to do that.
8. Don't tell me you don't like dogs. Even as a joke. And don't jump when a dog comes near you. I will lose all respect for you.
9. If by chance, you do the above, I may make allowances oli if I genuinely like you. However, don't ever say ANYTHING mean about my dog. I will kill you. And if you think I'm  too small to do that, I will hire a hit man to do it.
10. I'm not short. You're too tall. I can do anything you can. I may need a stool sometimes, or a step ladder. But I can.
11. I hate people who show off about their money. I really don't care. I don't want to know how many cars you have, or the amount you spend on clothes. I WILL tune you out when you do this. *shrugs*
12. I know I am a messy eater. Don't say it to me. Whatever budding relationship we have, will die a nasty death. If we've been friends a long time, you wouldn't say anything anyway.
13. Men who crib about lady drivers. Die, no? Or don't drive. I know I crib about lady drivers, but its okay if I do it. I'm a girl. You cannot.
14. People who start conversations with hey, supp? should be shot dead. Or sent for people skills classes. I will not reply to that.
15. I hate your broadcasts. Don't tell me to "get used to it, if I want a BlackBerry." Learn to uncheck me. Its that simple.
Sorry I cribbed so much. I've been waiting to do this.

Much love.
(:

Coz There's Always A First.

I'm here.
Finally.
After years of wondering what a blog is. After a year of following my best friend's blog, I have one too.
I hit on the idea, very suddenly, after Isha asked me to guest post for her blog.
I figured, its fun, why not have one of my own?
*shrugs* (Yes, I shrug virtually.)

Anyway, hello humans!