Fairy gales!

Once upon a time in a far, far away kingdom called ‘Dhorra’[place where I live. i know. eww name!] a pretty little princess was zipping around happily on her fairy ride (scooty) dodging a puddle here, a bumpy bump there, when suddenly she was hit.....................

(gotcha!)................with an idea! She thought, as she made her way across what-passed- under-the–name-of-road, what if she didn’t have to drive everywhere by herself, no matter how royal her fairy ride was, of course? What if she had a driver?!
It was just that she was bored with driving herself alone and decided she needed a driver, while she could sit in the ‘royal’ back seat and enjoy the wind in her hair.........But who would want to apply for such a post which would not pay him/her anything?.............yes, this was the pretty little princess’ secret. She was a
‘poor princess’!
Oh, she had all the trinkets and baubles she needed and all other things which were necessary for a comfortable living-food, clothes, her own princess bed, internet, some more clothes, junk food, oxygen.................and of course love. Everyone loved her, for she was a lovely little princess. But she did not have money. Oh no, no. The King(her royal father) would give her everything but money, for he adviced-‘She who hath money in thy hands, is a free bird’. And he could not let his pretty princess fly away. Because after all, everyone loved her.
So thus she wondered how she could possibly have a driver for her royal ride when she had no money? She thought, Oh poor little me, i have no money, where shall i find a driver? She thought she could sell something of hers’ and get money, but she couldn’t really part with her so-lovingly-given-trinkets, could she? Oh no. She could not. You see readers, she had become a spoilt little princess. Love did that to her(and not the trinkets.)
Thus she went on thinking. What remedy had she? How to entice a driver?.............As she was passing by a dinghy little shop, she saw a little boy sitting idly by and staring at her. He was wearing ragged clothes and seemed very dirty. The little princess slowed her fairy ride to a halt. She thought, this little boy seems old enough to drive, and he seems poorer than me! oh poor soul! Maybe if I give him something to eat everyday, he would want to drive me around!?!................................... Yes, I am so brilliant, she thought.
She hesitantly gave him a smile. The boy did not change his expression. He kept the same expression he had, when he was staring at her-blank. She widened her smile, and his expression changed. The pretty little princess thought he seemed curious. But dear readers, the truth was, his expression said something else. It said
- oh-my-gawd-is-this-the-mad-woman-everyone-laughs-about?
The princess cleared her throat and asked the little boy, “Greetings, my little man. I have a request to make. Will you be kind enough to drive me around on my fairy ride if i give you good things to eat everyday? It’s just for one or two hours a day. That is, i hope you know how to drive?”
And she kept on smiling.
The boy hesitated and then said,
“I know how to drive, ma’am, but i need a little practice first. Then i could surely help you, ma’am.”
“But of course, my little man.” The princess replied, smiling. “Here, try this. It’s very easy. It’s just in the balance.” She got down from her fairy ride and handed it to him.
The little boy sat tentatively at first and then after a while, he seemed to relax. The princess encouraged him,
“Go on, it’s very easy.”
The boy looked at her then and smiled shyly. He started the engine and advanced. Slowly he could balance and soon he picked up speed. The princess laughed after him, “There you go. A fast learner!”
Soon, the boy could only be seen at a distance. The princess smiled and sat down beside the shop. Yes, i am so very resourceful and smart, she thought to herself, Father will be so proud!
Thus she sat there contented, and waited for the boy to come zipping back.
And she waited. And waited. And waited.
But the boy...............he never came................................!
And they say to this day, the pretty little princess never had any more ideas.

my poetry.

This is a poem i wrote a long time back. It’s about a woman who has all the money, name fame..................the works. But she realizes as she reaches the ‘top’ position, that there’s no one to share her life, and success is not what it’s cracked up to be. See, I was running out of ideas as to what to post about, so i thought of putting this up. Bear it :), until i crack my brains for something else to post. Love all.
All that glitters.......
I hear the sound of silence,
In this spring-filled blossomed paradise,
I watch the ripples to oblivion,
And I breathe a tranquil sigh.

I notice a dried-old leaf,
Brown with age and so dead,
The dew glistens on its surface,
So enticing to its effect.

I smile inwardly at the irony,
Me and the leaf so alike,
All glitter and gloss on surface,
And it’s all obsolete inside.

My heart’s devoid of desires,
Each day comes and shifts along,
The monotony has entrapped me,
Is this where I belong?

On the ‘top’ i am believed to be,
And so may be the truth i reckon,
Since no one’s there beside me,
All alone i stand, so withdrawn.

I breathe out another sigh,
But not as tranquil to effect,
It’s time again to fake the smiles,
And face what I have come to detest.

P.S: I sound so bitter and sad.......but to make myself clear, this is not about ‘me’(since i’m no where near ‘success’. But a girl’s allowed to write imaginary crap sometimes![since reality crap is nowhere to be found these days]......).
So my advice-Success is not money, it’s happiness. (I have been going on about ‘success’ a lot lately...............hmmmm.............i wonder........:O)

Living memories

I have been busy the past few days having ‘fun time’ with my cousins who came for a visit. But now that they are gone, it’s kinda lonely here.(seeing that mom has also gone with them for a holiday visit and so there are no shrieking voices reverberating around the walls of the house to ‘get up!’ or ‘eat your meal’ or ‘stop doing that!’ or ‘what’s that under your pillow?’[oops, that’s for my bro! ;)] or ‘clean your room’ or ‘buzz off!’(oh wait, that’s my bro) or ‘get up’ (yeah, i sleep a lot!) well.........you get the picture.)Anyway, the time i got to spend with my cousins was a great one. I couldn’t help feeling nostalgic, these times have been so few and far between lately. When we were young(not that i’m old! Goobly woobly goo gaa[just reinforced that for good measure. I am still a baby guys!].....gaaaaa!) everyone used to gather at the ‘home front’(the true home after all) and forget about their jobs, and schools, and depressions and just get down and dirty(not that one, you perverts!), i mean the literal down and dirty. Splashing in the mud and rain, running after each other for innumerable things, like ‘he hit me!’, ‘he stole my mango’ or ‘i can kick your ass you brute’(of course the language was not so civilised!) .........it brings back so many memories, and i know that most of us look back to such days once in a while and reminisce about them............it always brings smiles and tears(gawd, i have been watching too much bollywood crap, forgive me!)
And Now? No one has a free day from the job, or the school, even 1st graders are stuck at ‘home’ pouring over books meant for an MBBS graduate(okay that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but believe me, its not too far from the truth.) now summers are meant to sit at home and pour over ‘holiday homework’ for the kids, and for the grown-ups ‘summers’ only mean added perspiration at work. ‘Playing’ now means having a go at their PS2s and nintendos which only teach them violence and that Which Must Not Be Named [ ;) ] For me, since I’m going to join my college to pursue my MBA soon(on the 21st of June) it’s the last ‘fun time’ i could have coz now it’s straight from the gruelling course to the gruelling job. So forgive me for sounding so down, because i can’t help it. I’m venturing out of my home town for the first time, and i’m excited beyond excitement, but there’s of course a little bit of nostalgia lingering behind.Here’s to ‘life and success’ which is NOT about earning and high-flying, but about how many times have you REALLY laughed and cherished.
WARNING: All the above written text is inspired from watching too many bollywood movies and Indian Serials, and has no connection with the author’s original and much-esteemed viewpoints in any case. The author was momentarily out of her senses and hence takes no responsibility if you were bored, thereof. The rights too sue her for the same have been stripped from court and hence will not be entertained in any case.


I have been tagged by Asmi.
so here goes:
1. Do you think you are hot?
YES! finally, someone asked me! it sooo is true!
2.upload your favorite picture of you.

3.why do you like that picture?
because i look soooo hooooot!
4.when was the last time you ate pizza?
5-6 days back......went to pig out with my cousins.
5.The last song you were listening to......?
Picture of you by The Cure.
6.What are you doing right now besides this?
just finished up watching a movie-Ashley Tisdale starrer Picture This.
typical teen movie. waste of time.

7.What name would you prefer besides yours?
8.people to tag:
Cool Muslimah
Addicted to the disturbed state
Sir Adib
9.who is no.1?
my best friend.
10.no.3 is having a relationship with?
no idea.
11.Say something about no.5?
invisible!! :P
12.how about no. 4?
good advisor? :)
13.who is no.2?
Both of us headed to the same destination. :)

Hate mail horror

I sat in my dinghy room, looking fixedly at the piece of paper(seems like I’m gonna start a novel here, the way I’m writing! Don’t worry. Atleast not yet ;)
Anyway, so I was sitting there with a rigid, almost stony, expression, trying to hold on to my outburst of seething rage (ooh! Scary, that. Beware ;). The reason? I was holding a sheet of paper which read -
“I see your article in The Times of India [sorry, had to change the name of the paper. Couldn’t tell you the original one’s name.........well, let’s just say...........it wasn’t worth mentioning. Hey, everyone improvises a little bit. Don’t laugh!] which I, sorry to say, wasn’t a very good one. How did they let you rite evn?? You cant rite! Haha, do you know that? Learn first to hold a pen. Haha. What a stupid person you are. I could mailed you, but I liked to shocked you so that you be excited you got a letter and then you be shocked to read this. Hahaha. Wish i could see your face. Haha. I know your address because I work at the newspaper office. I rejected your article, but my boss said, let other people see this and they will also laugh at you. Haha. Don’t send anymore article, go and sleep. Don’t write again. Haha.
Your’s lovingly,
Bigshot at The Times of India [ahem. ;)]”
So I actually wanted to laugh at this *&^$£^$ *%$^£””, “£%%%”” ‘s obviously neurotic, abominably stupid, dumb, pathetic, psychotic attempt to demoralize my beautiful, beautiful work, but i just couldn’t bring myself to get past my rage. How could this friggin’ $%^&*£ nobody, Mr.””bigshot””(had to use 2 inverted commas, Ha! “bigshot”! in his dreams.) be allowed to use a ‘pen’ himself?? He should be put in jail for doing that! And his English. I reminded myself to laugh my heart out later at his attempt to ‘rite’ English! And what’s with the ‘haha’ after every attempt of a sentence?!? Hello! heard of ‘lol’? Of course not, what a jerk!
I knew deep down that this was just a stupid prank by a stupid *&^%£”@, but i didn’t really care from my ‘deep down’ right then. All i cared was what i had ‘on the surface’. Rage. My first published article which i had already framed in a 24’ by 12’ frame and hung in my drawing room with my name in bold fluorescent (it shines!) letters(okay, I AM pathetic, and maybe ‘deep down’ i deserved hate mail. But who cares about deep down!!! :X) and the first thing I receive is a hate mail! How unfair is that! Poor me. My whole ‘legend’ was ruined! I had such exotic dreams, where i would be relating my adventurous life stories to my grand children, sitting in the old antique chair, with a cane on my side, and fire blazing away in the furnace, and a royal ‘tea-set’ at my side and a butler standing behind me (because I would be friggin’ famous and filthy rich!) and my two sweet grandchildren sitting on the rug, captivated with my ‘exotic’ stories, and i would have to tell them, that the first letter of ‘appreciation’ i received was from a psychotic, neurotic &^&$&* who couldn’t even spell ‘even’! Kinda stamps on the picture there, don’t you think?
I calmed down a bit, thinking how to get round this. There was no return address (atleast has a little brain, i thought) so could not write a nicely-worded, ‘correctly spelled’ reply (though secretly, ‘deep down’ of course, i was glad i couldn’t coz all i could have managed in my state of rage would have been &^^*%$” *^%$£^@$%” and some more *^%&*%&$!) and it would not have been acceptable coming from a person on her way to becoming a renowned author. Negative publicity could have been taken against me. You have to take care of these things. So well, i pondered on what to do. My dream could be taken care of ( i mean, i can always ‘improvise’, what would my sweet innocent grandchildren know anyway!) But what about right then? Hmmmmmm...........i looked at the filthy piece of paper again. Who cares, anyway. My rage was already subsiding. I was on the stage where I could manage a weak smile. Haha. I snickered. Haha. What a fool. Could only manage to call me a ‘stupid’ person. Haha. I had much more stonger and colourful retorts to that. Jerk. ‘bigshot’. Haha. (oops, did i use ‘haha’? I meant ‘lol’!! :P)

you can do it.

I recently decided, in one of my inspirational moments ‘ENOUGH OF THIS LAZINESS’! Let’s do something worthwhile and learn something new. Lying about staring into space would only make Jill a dull girl (if she wasn’t already!) So I started giving myself a motivated pep-talk (yeah, told you i was weird. Usually do it when no one’s around, though. Wouldn’t want to end up in an asylum). So anyways(i digress like crazy, don’t i?!) i went on in this vein:
‘YOU can do anything you want girl. It’s all in the MOTIVATION. It’s in YOU.’
Can you learn to cook? Off cooooouuuurrrrrrsseeeee! What’s there to it? Get a ready-to-eat sachet of your favourite meal. So there. Enjoy. Ah, these modern times. But do learn how to switch on the stove. Wouldn’t want to burn down the house.
Can you learn to talk philosophy? Off cooouuuuuurrrrrrrrssssssseeee! What’s there to it? You just throw in some weird sounding words and nod along with what the old man is saying. Yes, yes. What a theory he gave. And don’t forget to learn the big names. Wouldn’t want to baffle people by talking about what a great philosopher Einstein was, would we?
Can you learn to become the ‘classy’ madame? offff cooooouuuuurrrrrrssssssseeeee! (yeah you know, ‘what’s there to it?’) Just get satin material, bully your tailor into transforming the thing in to a sheath like gown. Put a false tag-Vera Wang? Ah, faux pas! No one would fall for that. Its’ India after all. Rocky S would do. Or maybe Manish malhotra. Whichever you can spell. Crash an elite party, check ‘em out in the newspaper. Most resourceful. And end up there with a bribed friend and dazzle everyone with your wit. Don’t forget to find a fake profession for yourself. Need a good conversation starting topic anyways................Exotic once like maybe a Bartender could help.............and, yes, do try to flaunt the tag on your dress. Another piece of good conversation.
So basically, during this long and fantasy pep-talk, I forgot the purpose behind it. I lay there talking to myself, and mum suddenly came up to me and asked “ what are you yapping about? I hear an offfffff courssssseeeeee every few seconds? You alright?”
I smiled apologetically. “Sorry mum. Actually it’s a class project. Our teacher has asked us to pronounce all the fricative sounds and write down where they have been articulated.”
Mum looked at me like I had two-heads. Mumbled something unintelligible and went away, grumbling. The thing with studying a subject no one has heard of is, you can invent great excuses...................!
So Can you fool people into believing you? Offffffff cooouuuuuuuurrrrrrssssssssse! (this time i lowered my voice an octave). Just sound aggressive, throw in some jargon which no one has heard of(make it up. Always works) and go on and on until your victim gets bored and walks away grumbling! ;)

Sophistication woes.

I was old. Maybe 5-6 yrs old. People say that it’s young. But i felt like a grown-up. I shook my head at the kids playing with the tricycle. Ah, kids. I thought. They think this little thing will get them to Disneyland(well, atleast I was imaginative enough to think that, when i was their age. So long ago.) and I sighed. My Uncle laughed at my ‘sighing’ and pulled my cheeks until they ached. I scowled at him. He found that funnier somehow and pulled my cheeks again. I was ready to call my big brother this time, and I called out to him, but all that came out was, ‘waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhnnnnn’. It hurt!!! Now my uncle looked flustered. ‘Aw, poor baby! No, no. Don’t cry. See your Mum is calling you’! Ah, the ‘safe exit’ for him. I sighed again........elders! So Predictable. Hiding behind Mum!
I stepped away from him. My new high-heeled shoes( okay not mine. borrowed from mum) were beautiful and i smiled at them and took another step. The smile turned into a grimace as I fell head first after another step. Don’t cry, I ordered myself. No. Don’t. But tears were already rolling down my face and my voice was following suit. Stupid reflex actions! Never listen to you.
After much fretting and petting as i stood there rolling my eyes, mum and my uncle crooned in their nauseating voices,Never mind, baby. You look so pretty!’ I perked up at that immediately and my tears were suddenly dry. i smiled. I heard sighs of relief around me as everyone turned back to their activities. Gossiping. Ah, so busy. Always.
I stepped out of my borrowed shoes. And tucked them in a corner. I had already reasoned with myself. These were meant for parties only. Not for just any ordinary day like this one. I would prefer to wear my flip-flops. For now. I am so level-headed. I smiled again. I tangled my hands through the pearl strings. (again, borrowed from mum. Gimme a break. I don’t have a sister!) I had a sudden urge to yank at them, and see the pearls running about. I tried, but nothing happened. Oh well, I was a girl anyway. Not strong enough.
I sat and crossed my legs and drew my dress over them as I saw Mom sitting the same way. I curled a hand under my chin and looked at my uncle and Mum. They were yappity-yapping away. Don’t know about what. I caught a smattering of their words. He. Smiled. Ran. Vehi- vehi-aww. Whatever. Older people are so boring. My age- ‘old’ were the best. We could talk about interesting stuff atleast........... i yawned. My uncle suddenly stretched his hand and 'tousled' my hair. I sat there, stunned. Open-mouthed. How dare he.....!!?? i spent ages combing it with mum’s comb. I had smoothed it down with drops of water. (Mum put her gel bottle really high up on the shelf &*££%£$@!! ) And my ‘uncle’(really had a hard time forming that word now!) ..................aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh!!! I was trying my best scowl at him. And he smiled. Yes ‘smiled’! I so hate that man. How could he be related to mum, i can never imagine. I was ready to cry again. But my heart wasn’t in it.

I had suddenly spotted ‘cookies’! My mum’s homemade chocolate-chip buttered cookies!!! I jumped out of the chair and lurched for them. Mum shooed my hand away. “Let your Uncle have them first, honey! Remember your manners.” Now i was shooting daggers at him. Could i hate anyone more? That filthy old man!! Hate him. Always comes to eat my cookies. I was ready to stick my tongue out at him. But i suddenly remembered my brother had once told me old people don’t do that. Sticking tongues out is for ‘babies’! ewww. So i stopped and seethed in silence. I saw him take one cookie after another and gush at Mum, “So yummy, sis!! You are so good at this.” The plate emptied in seconds and i stood there salivating. O to hell with pretense! “ mummmyyyyyyyy..................i want coooooooookkkkkkkkkkiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!!! Now, mummy! Cookie. Me. Now. Now."
I kicked at the shoes lying in the corner and threw the pearls on the floor. Mum picked me up and grimacing at Uncle, she took me to the kitchen and handed me a cookie! Ahhhhhhh, heaven!!!!
Being Old is so over-rated!