Lost in translation

Its been ages since I blogged.............. and since "I write therefore I am.........." I was getting queries questioning my very existence. So for all of you who had been following my random musings (and random silences thereafter), heres my first post after ages, people I am back!!!!!

Since I am not in my usual writing mode as yet, here's a small post highlighting an in-flight instruction in one of India's premier domestic airlines which I managed to capture recently.



The english version states "Baby bassinet must be stored during take off, landing and turbulent weather", which am sure all of us would agree with. But for the non-english reading population, the same instructions in Hindi are a tad bit scary, since they read (loosely translated) "Baby must be folded during turbulent weather" ..............


So much for translations.........

Diaries from Ceylon

I have reached Ceylon a.k.a. Sri Lanka a.k.a. Lanka. It’s a month long visit – a visit with a purpose. My purpose is to test my mettle, to see if I can survive in a country not my own, without any guidance, to lead a path so to say, to make a difference, to prove to myself that I can survive and win against all odds, always. And while achieving this purpose I will be the means to an end, nay to a beginning, the laying of a foundation of a new house for the L&S family…………………….But that’s another story!

So here I am, writing about my days away from home, in a land with which we share a long history, from the days of the Ramayana to the ICC Cricket World Cup ’07, from Hanuman to Jayasurya, from Rama to me, from the Ramrajya to 29th May 2007 ………….

Day 1 – First Impressions

I was going to love this country – the passengers in the queue for security check looked “not my class” – but I was going to love this country anyway. The airline could be best described as “passable as last resort” – but I have to love the country remember???? – the food served in the flight consisted of unidentifiable substances and “stirred yogurt”, yuck – but love this country I will.

So, after traveling from Delhi to Hyderabad to Chennai to Colombo over a period of 2 days and 2 sleepless nights, I reached Colombo airport at 5 am. After waiting for my baggage to arrive I finally was able to move out at 6:15 am. I traveled to Taj Samudra – my first abode in Colombo and marveled on the way the beauty of the small huts and the idyllic skies and the green coconut palms when suddenly my reverie was broken by the military. There were military men on the roads by the dozen and there was military checking all vehicles – seems there had been a bomb blast the previous day – sigh!

Taj was awesome, facing the sea, it made me forget the morning nervousness at the presence of military in the city of a country at peace. Got a mobile connection in a jiffy and spent the rest of the day in apartment hunting. The Sri Lankans were very helpful and warm. Loved their hospitality. Found an ideal place – high up in the building, sea facing, good locality, furnished, air conditioned, equipped kitchen, 24 hour security, all the works. It also came with loads of goodies I had never bargained for – awesome neighbours, loving and helpful in times of need or even otherwise……….

I was dropped by the landlady back to my hotel even though she had to go out of her way to do this. She introduced me to her family and promised to fetch me from the hotel the next day so that I would be put to no trouble moving base with my luggage in a foreign country. That’s hospitality!!!

Day 2 – My Tryst With LTTE

All things good must come to an end. And so did my impression of Colombo being the most hospitable and peaceful place – a small town by the sea side. Well, it is a small town by the sea side, but its not exactly peaceful (forgetting the bombings aren’t we?) and not too hospitable if they think you are the LTTE.

After fetching me from the hotel and making me comfy at the new apartment, the landlady left me to my means. And I made a decision to visit the NIPO by using the train so as to appreciate the idyllic sea side while on the coastal line train. I got a ticket from a very pleasant looking station master who was very helpful – that’s what’s called as deceptive looks I guess. I was required to wait for some three quarters of an hour for the train to arrive and decided to utilize this time in taking pictures of the sea, the sky with fluffy white clouds, etal. Little did I realize that I was in Sri Lanka, a land under the mortal fear of the LTTE. Little did I realize that I cannot take pictures even if photography was not prohibited. Little did I realize that India has a wee bit of Tamil population somewhere in the country. Little did I realize that it won’t be obvious to the Lankans that I was not a part of that wee bit of population. Little did I realize that the Lankans, in their mortal fear of LTTE, won’t understand that despite being an Indian I had not met more than 6 Tamilians in my whole life. Little did I realize that “I had nothing to fear if I committed no crime” was not true. Little did I realize that life is what happens to you when there are a lot of little things happening that you do not realize.

Some bloke saw me taking pictures and called the police helpline to complain regarding the same. And when I got off the train, blissfully unaware of this fact, I was surprised to see a police squad welcoming me to the land of LTTE!!! And the sweet little guy – the station master – identified me as being the same person and left with the look of a person who has accomplished a great feat. So much for being a tourist, for smiling and thanking the ticket issuer for doing his job, for asking for directions, for being Indian.

They took my camera, my passport but they could not take away the most important and dangerous of my possessions – my ego, my pride, my stubborn stubborn demeanor. They couldn’t have taken it from me – its something that only death can separate from me, maybe not even death. I stood stock still and politely asked them to tell me what the problem was before I moved even a step. Initially I thought it was a ticket check, but they weren’t interested in the ticket I waved at them, nor did my passport solve the problem – I was at sea, the police officer ranting away excitedly in Sinhalese. Was I supposed to understand it??? Is it mandatory that a tourist speak and understand the local language before landing as a tourist???? Finally I could stand it no more and firmly said only one word “ENGLISH”. And he got another officer who told me I had to be questioned in pursuance to a phone call to the police informing about my taking pictures of the train station. I laughed out load at that. Despite the fact that being connected to LTTE deserves death penalty, despite the fact that these people suspected me to be doing just that, I laughed out loud. Yes, they couldn’t take my laughter away either. They requested me to accompany them to the police control room for further inquiry. I obliged – as if I had an option………….

At the control room they wrote down my passport and address details in the police book. Then checked my digicam for the non-existent pictures of the train station. And profusely apologized and asked me to leave when they saw nothing but the sky and the sea. But I had had enough. I had been nice and had co-operated, now it was their turn. You can’t brand a Shirodkar as a LTTE, albeit for a short time, and get away with it – not on my life!!!! I requested them to provide me with a copy of their Sinhalese doodling in the police book and they flatly refused and asked me to leave. And am proud of myself for equally coolly telling them to provide me with a copy or to see me staying put there till I got the copy or was required to leave due to my visa expiring at the end of a full month. That shook them a bit and I went a step further and threatened them with a case in the International Court of Justice for infringing the human rights of foreign tourists under the guise of investigation against the LTTE. This finally made them relent and give me a copy (for which I had to walk in the sun for a few minutes and pay the photocopy charge too). Alls well that ends well they say – but alls not well. I, for one, am not the same person after this incident. My landlady and neighbours are proud of me for having stood up against the police bullying, they have arranged for my getting a police report to prevent any such occurrences in future, but alls not the same. Something in me has died somewhere. My fascination with the Lankan sea is dead, and so is my respect for the people who cow down to the police and military and LTTE to make them as powerful as they have become today. The military patrolling across the street from my house gives me the creeps. I am scared of taking the train and am scared of a police raid at my house. I, am SCARED. And I hate being scared.

Day 3 – Sleepless Nights

Its just day three, but it seems like ages. This feeling may be aggravated by the fact that I lost my SIM CARD today and so am cut off from the world and the LTTE episode of yesterday has added to the feeling of despair. It’s giving me sleepless nights. I barely slept yesterday, and am still typing away today – it’s well past 4 am.

This reminds me of a film I had seen as a kid. A film with three American friends out for a vacation in Singapore. They were sloshed when some drug peddlers being pursued by the police caught sight of them. These drug peddlers dumped their stock of drugs on these Yankees and fled. The police arrested the friends for being in possession of drugs and all three were sentenced to death. They were American tourists damn it. They were not junkies. They did not do drugs. They were kids barely 25 years old. They were framed. They pleaded and pleaded and pleaded their innocence. But to no avail. Their embassy tried its best to help, but the bureaucracy worked at its own pace. One committed suicide after being unable to bear his pitiable condition at the prison, the second was killed in a jail fight over a loaf of bread and the third was taken to the gallows. He was all bent and wrinkled and sickly. His will was all broken, he looked 60 in the span of under a year. And he saw death when they put the noose around his neck. But before they could pull the lever, the papers granting him pardon were rushed into the jail. He was released – a 26 year old guy all bent and wrinkled and dead. Death had fled his life, but you could still see the traces of it lurking in the corners of his wrinkled eyes, ready to pounce at him at slightest movement – maybe that is why he crouched so much and jumped out of his skin at slight movements and faint noises. I hope they don’t do it to me. For taking pictures of the sea. I don’t mind dying early. But I can’t bear the thought of dying in a foreign country as a criminal, away from the family that loves me, away from the land that lets me take pictures of anything I want, away from military patrolling civilian streets, away from freedom, away from fear. I wont commit suicide and neither will I get into a fight for a loaf of bread – but what if my pardon papers never arrive, or worse, if they arrive just a minute or two too late……………………………..

An atypical day in the life of “Puah lil Muah”

Well today was a very flat day. No ups and downs, no highs and lows. Nothing happening or for that matter, nothing not happening either. It was FLAT, totally flat…………. Reminded me of the coke I had purchased a few days ago, sipped and forgotten to put the cap back on – when I tried sipping it after a few hours (or was it days??) it was flat – like my day today…………. And that’s what makes today a topic for blogging. Because it seldom happens to be that I have such flat days in my life. This is true to such an extent that a few of my friends give me a buzz every 2 hours, every day, week after week, month after month just to say 2 words “What’s Happened?” and then settle back in their chairs/beds/sofas and hear the barrage of events, incidents, upheavals, stories, arguments, pranks that I was up to over the previous 120 minutes period.

But today?? Well, today has been an altogether different story. Today started with me sleeping off at 4 am since I was diligently completing assignments for my hubby so he could go party with his friends in Goa. Hmph!!! [A part of this late night can also be attributed to Sabby who incited me to read “The Little Prince” at 1:30 am and which I did read till the end of the first 14 chapters at which point I could barely keep my eyes open and had to shut down my laptop so that I could shut down my eyes too. For anyone not getting the connexion between shutting down my lappie and my eyes please don’t bother to read ahead].

Well so I woke up all groggy eyed at 10:00 am and after a superfast shower and a superer faster rush down my apartment building(albeit in a lift) I managed to reach office in time (hush!!!) only to find that no one else had cared to arrive at that hour to notice my punctuality! Another HMPH!

Well, on account of the big boss’s absence from office due to his vacationing in Bali, there was no work to be done (all of us at office follow the maxim “when the cat is away the mice can play” to the letter) and I whiled away my time doing assignments for hubby dear (carry forward from yesterday of course), completing all the chapters of “The Little Prince” (another one from yesterday’s list), commenting on friends’ blogs, blah blahey blah.

I was desperately awaiting lunch only to be told that my lunch had not been delivered (so I had to order some last minute stuff, which turned out to be yummy, but it was delivered 20 minutes past lunch hour). The lunch was too heavy and so we went for a walk to settle down the food and ended up returning to office feeling heavier than when we left – errrrrrrr did I forget to mention the ice cream we hogged on our walk????? It was all hot and stuffy outside so we tried to ease down the heat with the ice cream. Well, you know how these things work…………….

So here I am back at my desk thinking what else was there that I need not look at today, when I am informed that a few interns have picked up awesome outfits from the market next to office without having told me about it. Now its not they need to take my permission to shop, but they should have informed me, so that I could have gone along as well!!!! But before I could give them a piece of my mind, hubby dear calls up (he is in Goa with friends remember???) to tell me that he had an aweful bus journey to Goa and could I please book him and his firend on some flight out of Goa on Sunday evening – hey buddy do I look like your secretary???? Do you even have one???? But I did it anyway (hangover of love I guess) and in the process bugged big bro (since I used his credit card to make the online bookings).

So I was all pissed off with life and trying to look hopeful about no more sweet nothings happening – or not happening – when we get Lays Chips for the evening snacks………. Was every other eatable in the area just unavailable??? Why chips???? WHY CHIPS???? But that’s the way it was and I consoled myself by having a packet too many ad ended up feeling parched due to the amount of salt I had thereby ingested.

For any of you who think this would be the end of it – go take a walk – my life goes for a toss when it goes for a toss. So I reach home and am in the midst of changing into something comfy when my cell rings and its none other than hubby dear on the line again (I knew it had to be a problem, he doesn’t think of me except when he is in a tight spot). He seems to have received only 50% of the flight tickets and he was at sea (in Goa) as to what he could do about the remaining 50%. When I was trying to tell him that I would sort it with the travel agent, the electricity conks off. And hubby doesn’t seem to be in a mood to understand that howmuchever smart and capable I may be, I can’t talk on an almost discharged phone or book his tix/check the status of his reservations using a dead lappie, since the electricity was still not running. Anyway for anyone who is interested in knowing – I did manage to do just that despite the obstacles and he is back to partying in Goa in complete oblivion of my existence again.

And am stuck with more assignments………….. that’s life I guess, for puah lil muah on an atypical day like this……………..

In AID of AIDS?????

Yesterday I received an email with the following text:

“A few weeks ago, in a movie theatre in Paris, a lady felt something poked her. When she got up to see what it was, she found a needle sticking out of the seat with a note that read: "You have just been infected by HIV."

The Disease Control Centre (in Paris) reports many similar events in many other cities. All tested needles were HIV positive. The Centre also reports that needles have been found in cash dispensers at public banking machines.

Recently, a doctor narrated a somewhat similar instance that happened to one of his patients at the Priya Cinema in Delhi. A girl who was engaged to be married in a couple of months was infected in the same way. Though the doctors told her family that it would take about six months before the virus grew strong enough to start damaging the system and that a healthy victim could survive about 5-6 years, the girl died in four months, perhaps more because of the shock.

So please be careful in public places and spread this message to create awareness about this problem.”

This got me thinking on two lines, firstly as to how can anyone be of such a degenerate mentality that he/she can intentionally infect a total stranger with the fatal HIV virus just like that, and secondly (and more importantly) whether one can be infected with HIV by a mere poke of a needle left I a public place by some maniac?

I know that if I ever am in a situation that I would not like to be in, I would do my best to ensure that someone else doesn’t land up in that situation, or at least that I don’t cause anyone to land up in that situation. It’s the same courtesy a person in a highway accident offers the next vehicle on the road - a road sign warning of the danger AND not a sign that says “Happy Driving” pointing towards the danger zone……….. Applying the same logic to the so called “AIDS family”, how can anyone bring such irremediable harm on another fellow being? This is beyond me…………….

As far as my second dilemma was concerned I found an easier and quicker solution, that needle stick/sharp injuries are a comparatively rare mode of transmission. There are only few such cases reported in the world despite the fact that millions of healthcare workers are knowingly or unknowingly handling HIV infected individuals. Despite such a low risk, the unrealistic fear remains a major hurdle in extending healthcare to the infected individuals. The risk depends on the concentration of the virus in those body fluids; the depth of injury, the type of needle (bore) immunogenic status of the patient and the precautions followed thereafter. Just a mere prick is not proven to cause the spread of infection; the needle should have adequate amount of blood or other body fluids and the environment should be favorable to sustain the virus in that body fluid in the syringe/needle. All viruses die on drying, that is, they require the right medium for survival with adequate nutrients and temperature.

Despite the above assurance we should still be careful about such minimal exposural risk to HIV by stray infected needles lying around in public places. Especially when it comes to children in parks, zoos, cinema halls, etc…………… And about the people leaving the HIV infected needles purposefully with “You have just been infected by HIV” or “Welcome to the HIV family” notes, all I can say is “Lord forgive them for they know not what they do”. Because for all they know, the next person to be pricked by their infected needle might be someone they love – someone they do not want to be affected by AIDS!!!!

To Deep with love...............

This is a testimonial to my hubby – to the guy who gives me a lot of reasons to complain and still manages to get away with it. I realized this happening so many times lately that I decided to dig deeper to find out exactly why he gets away with it, only to further realize that this testimonial has been long overdue. Confused? Don’t be – by the time you reach the end of this page (and you better read till the end, else…………..) you too will have all the answers to my doubts, like I did, and to some of yours too. I am writing down my thoughts for me as much as for him – because unlike me, he doesn’t remind me of all the things he does for me, he lets all his sacrifices go unnoticed (well at least most of the them), he lets me have my way on everything I care to have my way about, the list goes on……….

I am told by one and all that I have kept him under the wraps for too long. All questions of how we met and such general barrage of “who, why, when, where, how” have continually met with “Hey I can’t answer that because me and Deep haven’t come up with the official version of the story yet and the unofficial version doesn’t exist!!!” So here goes………..

Who:
Deepak Pai

Looks:
At me through rosy tainted glass, at the rest of the world through his specs (brand – Lotto. If anyone cares to know – I hate them!!!)

His source of bread & butter and all the Italian food we hog at Little Italy:
Technical Architect – and no that has got nothing to do with buildings, houses, bricks and mortar. The only thing he knows about buildings is how to inhabit them!!!

Deep's new Bullet - OUR BIKE

Where & When (virtual):
We met (virtually) one November and after a 0.0000000001 second interaction on one part of the web we shifted base to good old gtalk – if I ever meet Larry Page & Joseph Millar am gonna kill them for doing this to me by creating the damn google website and making it available to us. Hmph!!!!!!

Famous first words:
“dont knw whr tht ws comin frm..anyway..its fixed nw!” (this was in reaction to his description of his ideal match as inter alia “someone who can type better than ‘dont knw whr tht ws comin frm..anyway..its fixed nw!’”. I knew the guy didn’t know what he wanted in life. He ended up (well, not yet, but he will pretty soon) marrying someone who said to him just what he didn’t want to hear and got away with it!!!!! I knew he was mine even then, so I had the confidence that I could get away with it. And I did).

Where & When (actual):
Then we graduated to fighting errrrrrrrr I mean talking. For a few months Airtel thrived solely on our conversations and all Airtel subscribers blamed us for the “all lines in this route are busy” message they got every night! And then we met, at the airport. That’s a story in itself…………I wore a blue wraparound skirt and all of a sudden Mumbai decided to be all windy, so the wraparound didn’t quite do a good job of wrapping itself around me. But anyway, this guy was too sick with flu to notice this small dressing folly (it was a folly ok? I wouldn’t do that on purpose. Ok? The gun stays at your temple till you ok this. Ok?) and we spent a lot of time together – him dozing off thanks to Benadryl and me chatting on gtalk (not with him this time, but with the rest of the junta on my friends list).

Why:
Why me? God WHY ME?????

Now God steps in, so adieu people, rest of the account is God’s version of the story and I am not responsible for any mush, flattery, bias toward Deep, doling unnecessary credit to Deep and the likes. I am warning you NOT TO READ THE ACCOUNT HEREON, ITS ALL PROPAGANDA, ALL DEEP PRAISING STUFF sheeeesh, I know you wont heed my words………….puah lil muah :,(

[(sob sob sniff sob sob) - thats me saying ciao!!!!]

I realized that she needed him. He would do just fine without her, maybe he would be better off without her than with her, but let us not get into that. So I made this happen. For her (at his expense you can add, if that makes you any happier).

She needed him to believe in herself – she had stopped doing that since time immemorial. This Dawg (I like calling him that, he does too, she somehow, doesn’t) has managed to convince her she can make it to HBS even.

And she needed him to believe in me too – I lost her faith when she was a child and try as I might I couldn’t win it back, he did it for me, and I am grateful to him for having achieved something that I had failed at so miserably, all these years.

He taught her that love wasn’t about “my way or the highway”, but loved her despite that attitude of hers. He still prefers to go her way than the highway, and she still insists that that is what he should do – but her earlier inflexibility is waning, it won’t be too long when she waves her byes to the highway forever.

And he takes care of her – in sickness and in health, though the vows don’t yet bind him. He relents to all her whims and fancies, at the cost of his own. And gives, gives, gives without expecting anything in return.

It took me a long time to find someone so very nice and perfect for her – someone who would fulfill all her criteria and more importantly, who would fulfill all my criteria for her too. But find him I did. Now it’s her job to keep him. And she is doing a mighty lousy job of it, I may add. And I am guilty of not giving him what he really deserves, right away. But I trust him to make up for all her lapses, her follies (including the stupid wraparound skirt I may add. It was a folly and I am a witness to that), her weaknesses, her stupidities, and one day (and hope the day dawns soon) he will be rewarded with the “ideal match” he deserves – minus the attitude and the cheek and the tantrums and the highway. (I know I could have given him just such a person right away, but then who would help my ugly duckling to grow up into a swan? I wanted my best creation to help me out with her, because I knew he wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t complain, would gladly carry out my plans, and be happy all along).

AMEN

(And when God, that’s me fellas, because it’s still God here that is writing – I have dismissed the penmanship of the chick long ago – says Amen, nothing can stop things from happening)!!!!

Women’s Day - HAH!!!!!

8th March, International Women’s Day, a day when women are fooled the world over. Sometimes I wonder if it would be prudent to wait another 24 days and celebrate it on 1st April instead, on April Fool’s Day. But no, that would make it all too obvious and evident. They were smart – the people who decided on celebrating the spirit (or lack of it) of women on 8th March instead of 1st April.

Some say I sound cynical and sarcastic, while some hint at a bitterness deep within, a baggage of sorts which I carry. And others wonder how someone who was always given a preference over the male sibling at home, over male colleagues at office, over male friends at school & college & university could complain about Women’s Day being a farce. Surely I can’t be expecting more from the guys or can I????? And this is the moot question – not whether I can expect more from the men, but whether I NEED to expect anything from them at all?

I do not stand for reservations – no not even reservations for women – and do not avail of any such special benefits reserved for women, be it a seat on a crowded bus; a hand to lift my heavy bags at the airport, train station; a guy’s aid to fix electrical equipment; a dependency on the men at home for household “guy” chores; etc. I got better educational opportunities than my brother, I get preferential treatment at home, work, school, everywhere, for being someone who fulfills the assigned role completely and NOT for being a woman or despite being one! But what happens after that? A person who achieves everything achievable, who wins every race, who crosses every mountain, is required to change her surname once she marries because she is a woman???? And consider a scenario where she marries a so called “progressive and liberal guy” who “allows” her to maintain her nee name and they have children – a son and a daughter. How do you name the kids? Mr. S father’s surname and Ms. D father’s surname? Or if our hypothetically “progressive and liberal guy” is actually a tad bit progressive and liberal then would they be named Mr. S father’s surname and Ms. D mother’s surname? Any guesses as to what the reaction of our “progressive and liberal guy” will be to name them Mr. S father’s & mother’s surname and Ms. D father’s & mother’s surname?????? Well you have started wondering what’s wrong with me haven’t you? Ever wondered what’s wrong with yourselves for thinking something’s wrong with me? Because if the woman can take the pains of carrying the child for 9 months, for bringing it into the world, why cant she get the credit due her by having the kids she bore to carry her surname too? Why is it considered asking for too much?

Another facet of the farce that is women’s emancipation is the treatment given to working women, ambitious career minded women and housewives (hey I am not antiquated, there are still millions of them falling under this species across the world). The working women are tolerated at the best since they bring in the much needed dough, but they are also required to be housewives since they have to manage all the roles played by a housewife in addition to the working woman role they play at office. The housewives are the model women who know how to be satisfied by their husband’s successes be it monetary, growth wise, achievement wise, recognition wise or otherwise – their independence, pride, ego is non existential. And the abhorred ones are the ambitious career minded women – who work and achieve and grow and win accolades, who attend family functions and entertain guests and care to have kids and bring them up albeit with the aid of paid assistance called housekeepers, chefs, nanny’s, etal (it is conveniently forgotten that this assistance comes at a price, which is paid by her). They are everywhere, envied and hated alike. And the farce that is 8th March tries to grab the credit for their achievements and shower it on the men – for “allowing” them to achieve – “where would she be without his support?”. She would be on the moon without his support, she is still the head of the MNC or winner of an accolade on earth thanks to it.

And it’s not just the illiterate or the older generations who propagate this view – we share it too, in different degrees of intensity. And we make lives difficult and miserable for our daughters and their daughters and their daughters too.

I might be completely wrong in my views above, or there might be a grain of truth hidden in there somewhere. I would like to know the true extent of your feelings on 8th March – as a day, as a farce, as a celebration of womanhood or of the bondage and dependence of women.

Friends of note……..

I wonder why people wait for Valentine’s Day, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Teacher’s Day, Friendship Day, Blah Blahey Blah Day to express their feelings for someone (I agree that its better to have them do it at least once a year rather than not at all, but why cant every day be lived as if it were the best possible moment to express your feelings?). Be that as it may be, today when I realized what an awesome lot I have in my friends circle, I decided to blog about them and in my own way tell them (despite it not being Friendship Day/Week) how grateful and proud I feel to have them as my friends and how much their achievements mean to me – especially since I get to brag about them and impress people in any gathering :D

Nik a.k.a. Nikhil Mahajan

This is one awesome chap to be friends with thanks to his sharp wit and ready smiles. Add to it the fact that he was working as a scriptwriter for none other than Ram Gopal Verma of Raat, Rangeela, Satya, Dil Se, Company, Road, D, Sarkar, etal fame - he becomes one friend I would not be easily losing!!! I say was working because he has today taken a flight to Sydney to attend the Sydney Film School to become a hell of a scriptwriter & filmmaker. Pssssst did I forget to mention his book???? Well Nik is in the process of publishing his first book “Almost Strangers” very soon (my sneak review suggests you to grab a copy while you can, its going to be scarce in the market after being sold out as soon as it hits the counters!!!!) – Nik you owe me my commission for this ad campaign of your book ;) Oh and he also taught me how to write a film script, made me his co-writer and managed to cook up a whole plot for his new movie “Christmas” despite my continuous attempts to confuse the plot and characters. You can check out some of his writing if you dont trust me in praising him.

Dawg a.k.a. Deepak Pai

Well he isn’t my friend, never was in the past either………..but that is another story coming soon on my blog. For the time being it would suffice to say that he is one damn cool dude (though he prefers to be referred to as hot!!!) and what’s better is that he is too down to earth for his own good. Humility is his middle name I think (am not sure, as he never told me what his middle name was/is)! This guy does an awesome lot of stuff – he sails and windsurfs, he claims to have piloted a glider too, in his younger days he used to cycle to office on an amazing machine, and he reads, writes gives a lawyer (that’s me) a dose of law and beats me at my own arguments (shucks I didn’t want to admit that in black and white, I reserve my rights to take back this statement in future), he loves politics and is in the process of organizing his own political party (might have done it already for all I know), he also loves traveling and trekking and bugging me (the last is a feat in itself since generally I bug people whereas with him its the other way round). Oh and did I forget he paints, cooks awesome Biryani’s and pasta, plans on starting a group of companies across the globe in under 3 years, blah blahey blah???? What I love the most about this guy is his love for the right thing - when we were visiting Charminar we saw a goon scribbling names on its walls despite our polite requests to stop damaging a heritage monument. The next thing I know Deepak is on top of the guy making him stop, handing him over to the monument authorities, calling the police, protecting me from a riot and doing a million things as if he were possessed. And the moment the guy was safely escorted out this guy cools down in a jiffy and gives one of his sweet smiles and is back to normal as if nothing had happened!!! In short he is an absolute been there done that – and I love him despite it all! Damn proud of you fella, keep it up.

Marvin a.k.a. Buggle a.k.a. Devil a.k.a. Dev Mallya

No he is not related to Vijay Mallya [else he would be on the cover pages of various magazines kissing hot chicks, instead of being satisfied with kissing “not-so-hot chicks (and guys???)” in closets and bathrooms as he indulges in these days (hey just kidding ok? Else I might find myself dead tomorrow]. He is a real sweetheart and is my bestest friend on the planet (I say this about every friend of mine, but still – what can I do if I have a host of people who qualify for that post???). And outside the planet I like Zaphod Beeblebrox and Marvin the Android better than Dev :D He is a chemical engineer posing as a software engineer and fooling Infy into paying him for it! He figures on the list of people who have made me proud on account of innumerable things like – inspiring me to start blogging, helping me to publish my blog and fixing bugs in it every other day. But more importantly for the awesome template he has created for his blog recently.

The photoshop effects on the pictures, the colour combinations, the titles, everything is just perfect – well almost everything I should say, everything except for the actual posts :P (just kidding Dev don’t you kill me for this). And thanks for the innumerable and long phone calls to cheer me up or entertain me or support me when I am lonely!!!! You rock (and so does your phone bill)!

Kimi a.k.a. Himani Mantri

Well to tell the truth she, being my elder brother’s classmate, was not my friend. Again the “was” is just to signify that now she "is" my friend. This babe graduated from Kolhapur (a really small town), went on to Pune University for her Masters, then took up designing at NIFT, taught there for a while and is now in Milan, Italy studying some more on designing and networking for her own Designer Label. I would have loved to have her design my engagement ring for me but the babe is tied up at the moment it seems – well you will have to make up for this someday in future ok, and it better be real good????? She also advices me on my hair and relationships by the way………………. I like quite a few of her fundas like “That's the difference between me and the rest of the world! Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria!” and “NEVER SAY NO TO LOVE!”. I have christened her “Hedgewig” in the midst of writing this post – if you cant figure out why, I disown you Himani!!!!!

Hrishi a.k.a.Hrishikesh Karambelkar

I hate him for having joined my “Egosurfing” community only to make pathetic comments on Egosurfers and then quit from it……….Hmph!!!! But am still proud of his photographic exploits, the openness he shows when sharing the small things that matter to him, his dreams and his zest for traveling and trekking.

His photography collection is awesome and his enthusiasm to help me find the right trekking trail (which he knows I most certainly will not end up following) is amazing. Kudos Hrishi!!!!!

Neil Dantas

Don’t know this guy too well, so am not sure I can call him a real good friend of mine. But well, what the heck, I am going to write about him anyway. A National Institute of Design passout, he is responsible for cooking up a lot of ideas which people like you and me wear – he is a designer who makes t-shirts, caps, etc with a difference. He and his friends have organized themselves into the DOERS – hey Neil you never told me the story that went behind coining the name………………The DOERS create t-shirts with awesome messages; smart products like Urdu Clocks, What Day Is It Calendars, Winning Dice, Footprint Stamps; they have their own anthem & a birthday song too!!! And they show their love for Mumbai via “Mumbai Grafix”. Am sure I have perked your interest enough to ask for more. Details of what the DOERS actually do are at their website, do visit it, believe me its a fun read.

Nihar Sail

An architect, a guitarist, a photographer, a friend……….this guy has composed some wonderful music/songs and clicked some awesome snaps too. I would have loved to put up some of his compositions on this page for your benefit, but this guy has been too possessive about them due to piracy and copyright issues and given them to me after I was sworn to secrecy and the works :D But God willing the day is'nt very far when the music this guy makes will be available in the market for everyone to enjoy and then I will be one of the privileged few to have all the unpublished originals straight from the horses mouth (well I am not trying to call you a horse here Nihar, please take this as a compliment). And you can see for yourself his photographic eye in the picture of a Konkani beach the guy has clicked.

Shrish Tilekar

He is by far the youngest of my friends to feature in this post. But he is also the hottest (hey I am not hitting on you Shrish, but these pics you have gotten clicked are AWESOME, nothing less). This guy is into modelling as a hobby and is studying something (errrrr er errrrr I forgot what exactly he is studying). Despite the good lokks this guy is'nt stupid (quite contrary to the myth of beauty & brains not going hand in hand) and is a avid participant in debates and eloqution competitions and designing and creative events at the national level even.

Recently the chap seems to have modelled for the football event in Maharashtra thanks to which the Maharashtra streets are now under his watchful gaze (he is all over the state on huge hoardings and posters). I heard the crime rates have gone down since they put up his posters and the police are planning to recruit him for their next ad campaign ;)

Chikoo a.k.a. Sreekanth

To be frank I never called him Chikoo. He was my college mate, my best pals guy, but we never kept in touch after we passed out 2 years ago. He has a wonderful disposition, never loses his cool and smiles a lot. I have never seen this guy get stressed out ever, whatever be the situation. He always wanted to join the army since in college. And today I shamelessly admit that I never thought he would finally join - not because he did not have the courage or the temperament for it, but because he was so damn sweet I could'nt imagine him joining ranks with the army men. But join he did and am real proud of him. Hey Sreekanth you look awesomely handsome in that uniform of yours, it suits you damn well!!! He has life going for him, his dream realised, a real smart and cute chick for a wife (well they have'nt married yet, but still they will soon), what else can one ask for? which reminds me - some of his college friends visited him at the camp where he is currently posted and it seems they had a great deal of fun. Quoting one of them verbatim from a caption he gave to a snap of all these guys at the railway station standing next to an army car with glasses full of scotch "Chikku, you're forgiven for bumming my perfume in college :- Scotch, served after alighting at the station.This is how an armyman welcomes you." It felt damn nice to read about you guys after a very long time.