Monday, 19 November 2012

The Chattering of a (Temporary!) Airport Fairy

I'm back after that long (for me!) hiatus.I did write a lot these days but then all were the same old melancholy things which just didn't seem right...So!
Daddy took me on an official agent-receiving trip to the airport yesterday. Corporate Business and I wore my most professional-looking normal-outfit (nothing inner and sleeveless sweater for the fashionistas) and waited. And waited. And observed.

Since most international planes arrive at night, the journey to the airport is usually fun!
Orange street-lights shine bright, road reflectors look sleek, hoardings seem twice as natural, Mumbai seems more urban than ever, crowded and if you sit next to the driver, it's real life NFS, only scarier since the possibility of death is very zap zoom!
Driving at night is really awfully stressing...road rage is common, and gaalis abound... I've learnt a lot many cuss words through these enlightening journeys!

Going to the airport was a festival some years before...I remember wearing my best dress, trying to smooth out all the wrinkles and, not to be beaten at poshness, wearing my free Bournvita-sunglasses, putting on posh airs and my best angrezi accent...never mind that I was thin, chicken –muscled and probably worm-ridden at the time.
Also, the costly food and water...grabbing the chance to eat out at the posh airport hotel when an NRI aunt came, keeping all the tiny bottles and paper bags as souvenirs and showing them off at school!
Ogling at the pretty airhostesses...Jet Airways with the super elegant look,and Singapore airlines for the prettiest uniform...almost worth going to Singaapur (I really believed this was a place in India before!) to stare at the PYTs I think.

I saw Om Puri this time around (I've seen Ila Arun and Macmohan before!). Why is it that only old and retired actors (no offence to them of course) are seen at airports? Where do all the hot young things disappear??(Muscled hunks and PYTs, I'm looking at you!)

The airport is one of the best places to just sit and stare...there’s so much happening!
I feel like Professor X connected to Cerebro (non-geeks who don’t allows Professor X to search for mutants for a large distance. Don’t know who Prof. X is?? Go watch X-Men. You need it.)
All the stories enfolding around you, there was this Punjabi ammi next to me in the waiting line(more like zoo-queue. I’ll tell you why) who kept yelling into her phone for her Amrika-returned puttarin whose India-number wasn't working but her Amrika-number was...30-minute baggage delay. Uff ye planes!
Poor thing was so excited she did not realize she had sat on chewing gum. Yech!
Moreover, she was wearing a bright pink jacket (arre you know the ones recently in-style here)and spent some time pulling it off with the khandan helping of course and yours truly staring!

The people coming out of the gates are fun to see too! Expectation writ large on their faces. They all first have this stoic expression on their faces when they come out (jet-lag? snobbishness? whatever) which turns to this grin if they spot their receivers and chagrin if they don’t. You can actually see their features twisting!
 And all the receivers standing there watching them like zoo animals coming on display... must be scary to see all those faces staring at you. And every time someone walks out the gate all the heads go up, which are otherwise busy, bent over digital darlings!
I feel pity for the foreign nationals who come for the first time and don’t know where to’s a comically pitiful thing!

Remember this??

And I think I saw some Varun-something actor... some girl next to me kept squealing .
The melding of nationalities (these phrases just pop into my head suddenly, is it irritating?).
The India returnees with the huge electronics. Panasonic most popular return company.
The western backpackers with the cool sneakers and accents…all fun.

If I have to be a fairy, I choose to be an airport fairy!
It’s like a world on its own...the airport.
There are bookies (namely the taxiwalas, and porters and officials. And most everybody has a suit on or at least a blazer (I just lurve the blazer turtleneck combo...some random hunk had it on there!))
Wearing psychedelic colours on yourself and your luggage helps a’s easier to find you and your bags (and is a kind of safeguard against them being stolen). Though some of the fluorescent yellow and pink eyesores were a little too much.

Best by me survey:
Outfit: Black pants. Preferably something stretchy but looking sturdy.
Any pretty top. Something long-sleeved.
Sneakers and socks...the F1 racing-shoes look so pretty.
Guys wear a blazer if its official or maybe something layered.
Talking about outfits...I wish I could tell the women (it’s mostly westerners…not being racist or any –ist mind.) who arrive without wearing a bra...shocking. Maybe I'm wrong... But I remember seeing this woman in a pink top and nothing underneath when I was smaller and the picture has stayed. Everyone... at least the men kept ogling. And the twin things kept bouncing with the tip-of-iceberg showing. It was horrifying.
I spotted another yesterday. But maybe she had worn something... because she was a little too bouncy, no other problem. Don’t think me perverted, I'm a girl myself for crying aloud... but some amount of decency is expected... just saying.
Khana: Nothing. Eat beforehand. Unless your office is paying. Note: Water is 40 bucks a litre.
Attitude: be good. Elegant. Nose-in-the-air is not nice practically contrary to whatever I said. Also, be considerate about other spitting, yelling, and general junglee behaviour.
Go stand in the front if you want your guests to see you. Use the usual train-me-jagah-pakdo technique (I.e. stand (and stare!?) behind the seat you want until it’s vacated.)

We met the foreign agent after a lot of waiting. Swiss. Talked and all in my best English accent. It’s funny understanding accents and thrilling using an accent yourself! I probably passive-smoked more than I have done in my entire lifetime in those 15 minutes of waiting for the car. Gawsh, the tortures my dad has to go through.
But I did learn a bit about Zurich (all snow and ski. And -1 degree temperature) and also got into the Leela to drop them (Obsequious gate-men. Rajasthan-outfitted bellhop...could have gone for dinner but realized that later)
The food was fun too. Though I have Bal Thackeray to blame for the stupid bandh, which meant no good places to eat and we had to eat at a dhabba sort of hotel...all the truckwalas stare, but the food is good. Hot and yummy...I enjoyed being Miss Priss and saying thank you and please to the bemused waiter-boys. Also I salute them for staying open when all the other cowards stayed closed...really, why would a dead old man ever want wretched travellers to go hungry...we almost dropped by the time we found the hotel.

Top this off with a Cornetto ice cream and Never Alone to sing along…awesome!

Sunday, 11 November 2012

What’s in a Name?

I wrote this last evening.Everyone in the house seemingly irritated with me.I,the gloomy maiden then proceeded to weep and think profound thoughts(all rubbish!Don't tell me I didn't tell you.).And this is what was produced at the end of that session...

I'm sitting by the window, watching life go on outside...the old bai off to work at yet another rich house, the pani-puri wala opposite my building setting up his shop.
Trying to think thoughts worthy of my blog's such luck.
Sifting through the solemn and sordid stuff floating in my mind trying to find the best to make it to my page. I'm too melancholy, nothing will do...I stare at the road again.
Triple seater scooters and hulky-bulky bikes with equally bulky riders all zooming away...far off in the distance I can see the crowded junction.
Pale wisps of cloud floating in it would feel to float away on one I wonder.
“EDI! IVIDE VA!” I hear someone in the house call me, derailing my train of thought, jerking me away from my daydreams, again and again and again incessantly like a baby whose diaper is full...and when I reach the source I hear the same disappointed tone of speech, the same you-know-I-don’t-believe-you stare.
My Siblings. To love and hate at the same time.
My Parents. Not very different,''You need to learn to knuckle down a bit young lady''. More name again...loud and harsh...repeatedly.
No wonder most people hate the sound of their own name by the time they've’s the one thing that belongs to me that other people use more...enraged parents. Powerful principals. Foolish friends. Silly siblings. Brutish bosses. Bad-tempered teachers.
How will I like my name when people use it so harshly, to lash out at me? To make me feel ashamed. And when there is something good to say they use pet names. Sugar. Honey. Darling.
What’s in a name - the most popular of all the name quotes...everything is in a name. The dust of the earth.The stars in the sky.
God calls everything by name. Dust. Stars. birds. You and me.
God. The one from whom I’ll hear my name, spoken with love and care and tenderness.
In dulcet tones, I don’t know what that is supposed to mean in a dictionary...I just like the sound of the word. Dulcet. Like velvet...wrapping itself around every syllable. a mother’s cuddle or a silk sheet on a mattress. name(you didn't think I'd tell you the real one did you?!). Spoken with love by the one who created love.

P.S. For anybody who missed my dynamic views template like me...I'm back!
      No more ageebogareeb templates...promise.:)
      They have a really bad effect on my pageviews...Ciao!

Friday, 9 November 2012

Three Things I'm loving!

I'm watching Peter Pan (the 2003 version) and I can’t believe how gorgeous Jeremy Sumpter is. Rachel Hurd-Wood is the luckiest girl ever!
He’s, like, the ultimate childhood love, oh that roguish cheeky smile, those long eyelashes.I love love love him (I've recently started this repeating thrice habit, it’s totally chick-lit-pink-girly style but it does give things a 'She really does mean it from the bottom of her superficial frivolous pink girly heart' kind of feel...whatever that means!
Olivia Williams is so very  beautiful playing Mrs Darling...the perfect fairytale queen!
Heck, I even love Captain Hook played by Jason Isaacs who is Lucius Malfoy in Harry Potter! He’s Mr Darling too!

Wit is very fashionable at the moment!
Better death than gossip!

Where do they get dialogues like these?!
You people really should watch the movie.

Another thing I'm going mad over is bananas and chocolate Dark Fantasy.
I first found out about this combination from a Mac Donald freebie book, they had this banana-chocolate-lollipop recipe:
You melt chocolate in a double boiler (a vessel in another vessel of boiling water) and coat the bananas with the chocolate...heavenly combo!
If melted chocolate isn't available...chocolate Horlicks or Bournvita will also do!
This is what comes written on the packet of dark fantasy and I solemnly identify with every last word!

Pure indulgence.

Alluring, dark and sinfully tempting, allow yourself to indulge in forbidden desires as you bite into the irresistible dark fantasy biscuits.Experience the dark savoury crust and slowly unfurl the pleasure of the soft dark chocolate cram made from the finest 'theobroma cacao-food of the gods.Enjoy the lingering pleasure and let the time stand still. Savour the irresistible.

I found one word to top the above: orgasmic!

And not to forget Amul Tricone!
I love love love this as’s cheap (22 Indian bucks) and so totally yummy...creamy malai coloured ice cream (it isn't the normal butterscotch you normally get, don’t know why they call it butterscotch...yummy anyway!) and a lovely thick block of chocolate at the end of the you can go easy on the pocket and pig out too!
 This has long replaced the family-pack-ice cream tradition we had...which means we have ice cream almost thrice every week and I have a rapidly growing tummy but oh the pleasure of tearing the paper off and licking it...yum yum yum!
Daddy likes the last part of the cone and would earlier book it beforehand, but we've become smart now!
 P.S. How’s the new look??
Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Rejected, Raging and a Review

Feeling dejected now...I cant go for Teach India this year (the first time I applied) because my final exams will be going on and Ill have to miss two days of training. Vacation plans spoilt. No certificate, no teaching, just more wasted time. I do have my blog though, my only shining beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak day. The first thing I do on my computer is check my statistics.Sigh... how easily satisfied I am these days. All it takes is a little statistic and my day is done. A large part of my happiness these days comes from my page views graph...the higher the graph, the wider my smile. Trivial, childish me.
I just noticed, I've kinda developed a double chin...a stupid bit of fat hanging behind my otherwise sharp chin...I hate it. I've declared a fast to thinness until it disappears. Exercising is so bloody painful. It works, yes. Fifty crunches and I have an almost flat tummy (until I eat again at least). I'm scared of eating and then puking...Id like to do that but I've read enough about Anorexia and Bulimia not to try extreme stuff.
And then the computer...
Obnoxious little brother wont get up...hes developed a penchant for bribing.
“Want me to get up? Put my favourite music on” (which means I have to listen to Akon's sexual exploits until I'm ready to kill the guy) or
“Want me to get up? You lose your time”, bloody brothers, I hate him at times like these, sister dear is easier to handle...put on a movie and she’s happy.
Bro makes me grovel and beg...which hurts my ego like anything and not only that, he'll squeeze every last drop of begging out of you till you're ready to go bury yourself and then get up with a lot of grumbling and groaning while extracting promises from you to get up soon. Horridly exasperating.
I've almost killed him one or two times in the past for doing that (with equally horrid repercussions). I'm better at controlling my temper now...losing my temper has many downsides compared to controlling it. Controlling it makes the beast inside me cringe painfully for some minutes after I let go, making me cry sometimes, telling me I'm a sissy without a spine but losing it is worse, the physical pain, emotions running so high, broken furniture and bones and a dressing down from daddy.
Whereas after controlling my temper I can pat my back, reward myself and tell me what a good God's child I've become.
So, I'm not a very happy girl now. And reading Black Swan Green isn't making me feel any better...for lack of stuff to say heres a review of what I've read until now.
I learnt about this book from Flavorwires Books To Replace Catcher in the Rye as the Perfect Teen Book, as Catcher has now become the cool book for cool high school teachers, not cool teenagers!
Anyway, the book is the story of Jason Taylor...stammerer (not stutterer, both are as different as diarrhoea and constipation!), teen (didn't catch how old, but old enough), poet and mid-range in school status hierarchy. There are many characters coming in throughout, Dean 'Moron' Moran - best friend, lowest level in school status hierarchy, Dawn Madden boyish, inscrutable crush and a host of others, plus a four-member family: pa, ma, irritable elder sister and Jason.
It’s raw, honest and a reference dictionary for substitutes to f*** (which I think everyone really needs). The f-word is so some creativity people!
I felt it similar to The Casual Vacancy (Rowlings latest (adult) novel) but not as boring (not at all. Whereas Vacancy should be read only if you really really want to know what are Rowlings capabilities in adult fiction and you have two days to waste if you can finish it that fast).
So it’s a good read.
Ma has just put the radio on. Bheege hont tere is on, somebody please kill me...did someone hijack and obliterate Radio Mirchi's song database that the RJ didn't have anything else? Gawsh, I'm tuning out. Cya when I feel better. Bye.

P.S. My thoughts after re-reading this later: I sound like a total brother-hater. Do not misunderstand. I love the little angel (Though I would like to say varmint!)...It's just that he gets on my nerves sometimes.
And that sounded totally Hollywood. Why did I publish it then??Two words...Bone Lazy and incessantly proud of anything I write, even if its crap (a. k. a. Writers Disorder!)

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Sleeping Beauty's Terrace Tales

There really is something to be said about afto-evening know the ones that start from 5 pm and go on until 6.30 or 7 pm. The time when most people have their music blaring, and you wake up to Akon's We Dont Care or Beautiful.

When I see you
I run out of words to say (oh oh) 
I wouldn't leave you
'Cause you're that type of girl to make me stay (oh oh)
You're so beautiful
So damn beautiful
Said you're so beautiful
So damn beautiful

I got a little worried about my little brother yell-singing

(Oh, oh)
People are watching, but we don't care,
the way I am touching your body
 ‘Cause we don't care, see you droppin' and poppin

(You know the rest...!)
But I decided to let it go (For the time being as the poor guy doesn't know what hes singing.)

As for me, miss sleeping-beauty in my sweaty loose tee(it’s really hot here), I just stretched myself all luxuriously and acted my part, i.e., play-acted being the skinny blonde the guy is dying for!
(Un)S**y leg cross-uncross---check, saucy (more like ketchup-y!) eyebrow cocking---check, all-of-you-are-worms-expression---check...but it was fun!

It’s a bit disorienting actually; waking’re not sure whether you ought to go back to sleep or wake up so early!
Sometimes the sunset here is so pretty at this time...I go to my terrace to watch it.
My terrace - My window to Heaven!
Wait here’s a picture.
Stairway to the Sky!

My place of solitude, of introspection or just somewhere I get away from it all.
Away from the stuffy heat inside the house,
Away from boxed-in homes that don’t let in light, love, and openness and hold in all the darkness, sorrow, grudges and pettiness of the people inside and foster maliciousness and evil.

I come to this place to clear my head, walk around, stretch myself, do some wacky dance(which would probably make me die in embarrassment if anybody saw),listen to music and daydream and yes, to put the clothes out(marriage training ghar ka kaam...I like doing it so no matter)

You see so many things when you are apart from other people (i.e. with nobody to keep chattering to.)
Babies crawling neighbour baby girl and the baby boy from below are good friends. I remember this time when they both were at the crawling girl found a bit of confetti and baby boy wanted it too, so he bit her butt to try and get no avail!
They've both grown now but shes still pretty good thing about growing up or I shudder to think about what some people would do!

Committee meetings - My society is really big about these so we have an old men committee, old women committee,  gossipy-mothers committee and a teenage committee(all flirting and crushing hard amid the innocent sounding conversations!)

Then I can see the main road too...passing cars, buses and bikes all going to their various destinations, cool-boy and girl gangs hanging out and  eating chaat,roadside romances: exchanging numbers and painfully farewell-ing each other, the hipsters with the loose dhoti jeans and humongous headphones, little kids excited about the Rs. 10  they have!
Observing sometimes laughing along them....

Another thing is the sometimes have chicken biriyani or korma, sometimes fish, sometimes floral perfume when the girl downstairs is going out and sometimes cologne(Question: Why do guys prefer squirting the stuff when they’re at college?? At least the behaviourally retarded set at my college...they’ll squirt some really heavily scented stuff right in front of the girl’s row and parade by as though we’re all going to wrap ourselves around them...puh-lease...Axe ads do not work in reality (all this excluding the gentlemen who might know me from college and are reading this of course!)

And otherwise you have the not so enticing (not at all actually) smells of see we have the smell chimneys (don’t know what they're called) coming out from every toilet to the terrace. But so long as you’re not sniffing around in their vicinity or poking your nose in them (I know, I know...I'm gross), its fine!

That apart,
The society is planning to put asbestos sheets atop the terrace (in essence blocking sunrays to reduce the heat) but I've been praying for that not to only place of solace and comfort gone.

I get some of my best ideas when I'm here...My hidey-hole.
It can be scary if you look down but being the daredevil (LOL) I am, I got on the dish roof one day to get wet in the rain...another lovely experience. I wore a windcheater and had earphones blaring, getting soaked and feeling like you're queen of everything...exhilarating stuff!

But for now, about waking up.
Another beautiful wakeup call I had was to the theme of The Chronicles of Narnia. That was something more poignant(love this word!)...more heartbreaking...I felt like I was a princess going away.

Couldn't post this yesterday and in a different mood...
I'm Chasing the Sun now!

Saturday, 3 November 2012

How I Tried To Increase My Blog Readership And Other Stories

Today is the three-day birthday of my blog...and I'm finally on Google search!!
Which means my blog turns up in the very first page (not necessarily on top) if you google ‘the thinkeress blogger’!

I'm so happy that one of the things I set out to do has been accomplished! (I know. I'm crazy)
And as a gift, everybody gets these awesome links to go to!
2.       ROFL LOL ROFL LOL...(play in loop)
3.       Harry Potter parody!(You guys have got to read this!)
(The last is from an ancient eM blog)

I love the people who've been reading my blogs anonymously...even though the commenting rate is pitifully low, I do have quite a few page views which must count for something(I'm hoping it does after a lot of convincing myself that the people are not casual blog hoppers who don’t read) so thank you dears whoever you are!

However hard I try to delude myself into thinking that I'm a wonderful writer whose work will automatically be recognized (don’t we all) and appreciated, it’s finally 'Welcome to the real world baby’. So:

These are some of the things I've been doing to increase my blog readership:
1.       Changing my location, interests, favourite books and no avail but I ended up finding some cool bloggers in the process. Check them out.
2.       Tried altering my HTML code to include a title and tried adding a Meta tag...something I was suggested to do by Google Webmaster. Results: Nothing. Zilch. Nada. (Do not attempt to do that (read: mess with Meta could be ignored by Google altogether which is a very BAD thing.))
3.       Tried to change my blog's look. I read that the way your site looks is important too(First impression=Best impression after all).So started another browsing session for Blogger templates...found something I like(this one)and had another long research session on how to put it on(what’s the geek term for it again?...forgot.),and when I did, it turned out be completely pakav (you need code to change anything in it, no easy-peasy menus).So stick to your Google templates and try altering it little by little. Shabby blogs is good for that stuff (credit to Bumtrinket for the discovery).
Note: Blog-designing, HTML-writing smarties might beg to differ on this point and you might be right. I absolutely detest writing code, at least when I'm writing for relaxation and there’s enough coding done at/in college.
4.       Bombarding Google Search with my blog first, you’d get my blog only if you typed in the URL, which was totally depressing.
That over, I now have to find some way to overcome the stupid copper company’s website that made a Thinkeress statue(and it is nude). Really now.

Other things I'm doing which will probably work but require a lot of patience:
1.       Blog surfing, reading other blogs and commenting hoping someone will notice me. To all you dearies who have come here after reading a comment: You needn't feel cheated. I read your blogs and comment because I really and truly love them and would have read you even if didn't have a Blogger account (but then I wouldn't have discovered you!)
2.       Saying 'Please comment’ after posts:
I tried that but on a regular basis? Nah. I'm excessively egoistic about my only talent and saying ‘Please comment’ will only make me sound grovelly and somewhat degrades the quality of one’s writing, don’t you think?
And saying please to make someone read my writing only seems to make my writing sound like it’s torturous and that I only want comments because they’re some sort of marking system of social acceptance and there’s plenty of that at college and was there at school (and at Facebook which has spawned conversations like these:
 “How many friends do you have?”
“Nah, only a few...around a 1000.”
Unbelievable. And no, I'm not on a single social networking site myself. Honest. And I'm still alive.)

Things I'm contemplating doing:
1.       Add a couple more buttons for easy follow-ship and things (dynamic views is a big pain in the behind when adding stuff to your page.)
2.       Join Google Friendconnect. Since that’s what I found common among all the popular blogs out there.
But I do have an FB like box for my posts...and a Google+ button too.So I'm counting that to be enough. For now. Until the you’re-an-unnoticed-loser-and-going-to-remain-that-way thoughts start again(self esteem issues).I have to brace myself against those or else I’ll end up joining Twitter just to have a Twitter Feed box on my blog(which is not a good thing in itself and would cause a ruckus at home which is a long story. To summarize: Social-networking-is-s**t believing parents and paranoid papa. And college seminars on how it reduces your job chances. And awful college crowd, (the 'are c****a yaha a re' kind.and I so wouldn't want all that on my wall.)

Somehow, this innocent blog party entry has turned into a why-I'm-against social networking blog...time to tune out!
And I'm curious about what you would've done about the pathetically low-readership-situation too (not saying my current readers aren't great of diplomatically kiss-ass I've become)

So, (To the tune of Cheri Cheri Lady)
Tell me tell me baby
What you’d do in my place
Listen to emotion
Or listen to your pa!
(Who is btw telling me to stop blogging too. Humph)

(Yes, I'm a big girl who still watches Barbie and Disney!)