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Victoria’s secret 4

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Now that I have got your attention completely, let me tell you that the secrets mentioned here are Twilight’s and not Victoria’s. And they are not even about lingerie. Since I have got the page hits and the relevant clickable ads, and what with most people already having made a hasty exit from this page, I can peacefully share my secrets with a handful of people, and with lesser questions asked.

I was tagged by Amit for letting out 5 secrets out of the bag. Ritu had also tagged me long time back with something abt 7 things people don’t know about you or some such. Forgetful Patrix ruefully admits that he forgot to tag me for this tag. So here we are with some things (I think) a lot of bloggers wouldn’t know about me.

1. I wear specs/contact lenses. Yes. Specs started from grade 6th. And I happen to be from that generation of females who perfectly agree to “men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses”. So very aptly, I switched over to contact lenses when I joined college. Though it was strange that I had almost an entire batch of girls doing that along with me! Are we a country of myopic girls or what? I do wear specs on/off (here I must mention that I have state of the art rimless glasses) but I feel more comfortable wearing lenses. It’s only now that the likes of Preity Zinta and Sania Mirza have brought wearing spectacles into fashion. Still, complete field of view is something spectacles can’t quite give. I haven’t quite thought about a Lasik Laser yet, but some of my friends are pretty ga-ga over the results. Before I move to the next secret, I must mention that the IT industry (the advent of computers in general) has by and large benefitted the opthalmic industry. Almost every single person I know (with or without hereditary myopia), needs to start wearing specs after a year or two in front of the PC.

2. I have learnt how to play the piano (when I was studying in one of the many schools I did study in and this one happened to be a convent). I have also learnt the Sitar (in yet another school). Have also shed a lot of tears when my sitar broke in transit. Though my sitar’s poignant pumpkin-bash-death never made headlines like Ravi shankar’s did :|. In college since I had no other instrument readily available, I picked up the flute. Many an evening were spent playing soulful music using the acoustics of the main hall to maximum advantage. When I started working I revisited piano lessons for a while and then took some guitar lessons too. My guitar wistfully stares at me whilst I write this. The flute can’t since it’s in the cupboard somewhere along with other forgotten memories. Am not too rich to have a piano stare at me in the same fashion while it plays “showpiece” in the drawing room. In the poor days (read student days) I used whistling as the best option to create some music. Somehow my passion for music and its importance in my life (which is a whole lot), has never made it to this blog. Which is strange. But then this blog isnt abt me. It’s more about my observations.

3. This one usually comes as a surprise to people who know me as a person. I was a very shy, quiet, obedient, introverted kid. No hulla, no prancing about breaking things or generally being a PITA (pain in the a$$ for the uninitiated). A lot of adults fawned over me as a result. Hell, some even tried bribing my parents for adopting me. Most people would classify me as a studious, serious, simple girl with no “zabaan” to speak of or speak with. Did I mention cute as well?. Only the first bit of being studious is correct. “Cute” was probably one of those words that fits in anywhere and one can conveniently use when one doesn’t know much about a person. Of course most of the above are have-beens now. Including cute.

4. I have *rather* long hair. Though this isn’t much of a secret especially with people I have met, and what with Yogu making it an open secret; I mention it because it gives me a lot of interesting anecdotes to speak of. For example how this strange lady in Paris just caught my plait in her hand and uttered something in Spanish whilst I stood absolutely shocked, how the aunty who was assessing me as a daughter-in-law commented on the length of my hair with such glee that I could see that valuation-of-property look in her eyes, how the hair dresser refuses to commit the “crime” of cutting my hair, how I once lent my plait to this guy who wanted to get in the house from the terrace. Ok ok. I got rapunzelesque there. I have been asked a lot of times “how I feel” about having long hair (duh) and of course about how I maintain it and related yada yada. Well. It’s hair today, gone tomorrow! I have been planning to write a couple of hair-raising tails .. err tales about this bit in my life, out here. Would do so soon.

5. The final secret. I have been a member of that ubiquitous site – shaadi.com since some time. The experiences I have had through this site would even put the script writer of “Mr. Yogi” to shame. Those who are unaware, it would do them good to know that “Mr. Yogi” was a TV serial many many TV serials back where he sets out looking for a suitable bride. He meets all and sundry but eventually never finds anyone suitable. I think the serial was based on the life of our own Mr. Yogi here. Yogu, please to be suing them for looking into the future and making such an exact replica of what would be your life! Coming back to my search – I have met such namoonas of manhood through this site (no perverted puns intended) that I can write a best seller based on the experiences. No details about those here yet though they make for very interesting discussion and gyaan which I love emanating.

I guess this post more than makes up for the lack of an ‘about me’ on my blog.


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Shedding light

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When one has too many things to write about, one lands up in the kind of situ I am in. Not a writer’s block. Not a lack of time (I have written earlier even with scarcity of time). A mental state where ideas are aplenty but putting them down seems too arduous a task. Especially because of the mental backlog that has already accumulated. Going by past experience, it is best to post some and best to purge some. It has been a whole year today to the day I got back from Finland. I always intended to update Finntimes with travelogues about Paris, Switzerland, Copenhagen, the Arctic circle and best of all – the rest of my experiences in Finland which are definitely worth sharing. I still intend to do it, even though there’s been a substantial time gap. A chronicle is a chronicle is a chronicle. It gives one immense pleasure when read at a later date.

For starters, to break the discontinuity, I’ll finally oblige Atul Sabnis for he had tagged me, more than a month back. His tag says, “It has to be about your blogging experience, link us to what you believe are some of your best posts – tell us (at least now) why they are important to you – what you like about them. Keep it as free form as a possible – tell us a story. Tell us what blogging has meant to you, notwithstanding the opinion of the media (or anyone else).”

So here we go. Straight from the heart. I started blogging 3.5 years back mainly because it was a great way to share one’s creative writing endeavours. It’s a different thing, that today most bloggers would not even know what creative writing means. Though I had always maintained a physical personal diary for most of my formative years, I knew that the internet is definitely not a place for it, but creative writing and constructive feedback – yes. Blogging has been a very interesting journey so far. I never thought I would actually end up not only meeting a lot of people through this medium but also befriending some of them much more than friends met through the real world. I now know a lot of people outside what was my usual social circle – either engineers/ IT people or people from Army background. I have had the chance of seeing how blogging has evolved from a word which had to be spelt out and explained to everyone when I started, to the common word which has almost become a fashion statement now. Blogging has shown its power in terms of a lot of episodes which have rocked the blogworld or which have made the power of blogging have almost as much as an impact as main stream media. Being a part of the blogathon for the blank noise project was a big eye opener for many. The formation of a delhi bloggers group and continuous delhi blogger meets since 2.5 years ago has been a great outcome of this journey too. We have had fun meets and some serious meets like when BBC people have wanted to tap the capital for a feel of the blogger’s pulse here. We have had photography meets and book readings too. There are talks on to get into more serious business like spreading the word of blogging to those who dont know of it yet.

Personally, I have gone from the usual beginner’s point where every comment, every hit on my page seemed like an achievement TO not caring about it all anymore. I have seen ppl come to and go from the blogworld as often as the next bus, and I would be glad to say that so far so good – I am here to stay. I have consciously tried to never let blogging become an obsession. Priority has been over being rooted to the real world, having a life where blogging is not the only thing. It is yet another interesting hobby but not the only one. When I started I had grand plans – a personal (opinionated) blog, a travelogue, a blog only for music (had a beautiful instrumental piece on my main blog for a long time), a blog which would actually have audio/video (at that time podcasting was not even a concept), a blog for pictures (again things like flickr were not even a concept), an everchanging interesting template etc. But obviously doing so many things would need me to be only blogging fulltime. And consciously I had decided that I would never eat, drink, sleep – blogging. So all those ideas phased out in the germination stage. Having a readership, a faithful one at that, definitely gives a high. But then if one is that good, having one would not be an issue ever, whether in the blogworld or the real writers world. I tend to be very low on blog hopping. I barely visit some selected blogs of ppl who have now become my pals in the blogworld. Or people who come and comment here :). Blogging has been of a lot of help to me in the real world too. Though I have not been one of those to find love here (and haven’t even got my first cheque from google adsense), I have landed myself a place to stay in, during my stint in Finland when there was absolutely no other option left but to shift out of company paid accomodation. [Thanks Ankur]. I have also had the pleasure of having the option to show this ENT specialist whenever I have a problem :). [Thanks JW]. I have had a blogger’s kids coming up to me and saying “Oh! you are Twilight Fairy!!!!” :p. Never knew it was a family thing to visit certain blogs. :p.

In terms of selecting some of the best posts, that’s a toughie! Every time I go through archives, I go through yet another journey down memory lane. Reading a lot of posts, makes me feel astounded that *I* could have ever written those, they seem impeccable. Reading some of them also makes me wonder what I was thinking while writing them and how someone could have even appreciated them! When I do write, I try to make every piece worth the labour of reading it. A lot of thought goes into it. At times some research too. So I am not playing favourites here or let’s say I can’t afford to go through the “parental” task of choosing ones favourite child! The archives are all here. I have never deleted a single post till date. Never bothered to count how many they are, but am sure it can keep one occupied for days if one would like to bury one’s nose into this attic. Don’t we all just love going through those books with dogeared pages and dusty smells. :p. Here’s to many more such endeavours.


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Zilly big

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The title, though it doesn’t make much sense, is so, because most of the “Silly Pic” meme victims happen to be simbly southindeeyan suddenly. So from “Silly Pig”, I have graduated to “Zilly Bigg”.
Zilly Bigg?
Here’s one such “Zilly Bigg” that I have been forced to share by virtue of being tagged by Patrix. Please note, the picture is actually not mine. That is someone else. But the reflection which I tried capturing in her goggles, during a photography workshop cum DBM we had at Humayun’s tomb is the candidate here. Though I have a propensity to have silly pics taken (mostly by having my eyes closed at the exact moment the pic is clicked), such pictures are not readily available with me right now. Another pic of mine (?), can be seen here.


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Shireen

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Shireen looked into his blue eyes from her expressive ones. They looked like limpid pools of water, reflecting everything that came to her mind. Presently, they expressed satisfaction and subtly enquired about the same from him. She had slept with umpteen number of customers but this one was special. He somehow gave her respect. Didn’t treat her like a whore, like all others. True, that was her livelihood but still, wasn’t she human too? Or did they expect that a wad of notes ensured that the female there would somehow become a robot, cater to all whims and random fantasies, but not expect any pleasure in return, never decline any “order” however disgusting it may be? This man, somehow, made her forget her loneliness. He genuinely felt compassion *and* passion for her. She didn’t like giving a blow job and after noticing her hesitating, he never forced her for it. He had no idea, how much respect he had earned in Shireen’s eyes, just by not forcing her for something she didn’t want to do. If only her entire life had been like that. Her own. Her thought process was interrupted.. “I love you”, he whispered. Shireen could hardly believe her ears. It sounded like a symphony. “Me??”, she asked. “You do?”, the doubt was expressed with an underline. Almost instantly, she was afraid he would change his mind, although she loved him too. But she had spoken too soon. Suddenly she felt him hitting her. She felt sorry for having expressed her disbelief for something she could only have been thankful for. And then he was no longer there. It was amma, jolting her awake. A customer was waiting. Her “services” were required. He wanted the “moghul” routine, which involved dressing up like a “daasi” and feeding the “emperor” some grapes, coquettishly teasing him with the fruit, seducing him all the while. And the guy who had just claimed love for her? It had all been a dream. As always, she had been using the power of dreams to get what she desired.

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This is the first “tag” I have ever been a part of. As a rule, I do not participate whenever I get tagged. But this one was “different”, since it involved some “creative writing”. I am not tagging anyone further. Anyone who likes the idea can try it. The rules are:
1. Write a 100-to-200-word entry using the following words: I, me, blow job, grapes, random, power, loneliness, water, robot and blue;
2. Use these words once and only once; and of course
3. The entry should make sense.

Atul, hope you like this attempt, though I couldn’t help dramatising it a bit :).



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