First Best friend..Neets still Bizzy Lyf

Year 1993 : I am 7 years old. I am in a new school… unfamiliar surroundings…unfriendly faces. I hated my new uniform of blue pinafore and a crisp white shirt. I wanted my old gray and gray pleated skirt back. I just want to go home. Feeling irritated. Feel my mother doesn’t love me anymore to send me to a boarding school far away from home. I am afraid of the Anglo Indian teachers with their too red lips and too short frocks which hardly covered their knees. Felt I was in a nightmare. It was on that horrid day I first saw her. ‘Don’t cry, yu can have my chocolates. You might feel good’, she said. I looked up .She was the girl sitting next to me who I hadn’t noticed till then. I did feel good about the chocolates that day. And I felt good with her gesture too. Her name was Neeta Joy. And she was my best friend from that day. There wer 3 others too and it was a soon a happy foursome. She was the first friend whose house I was allowed to visit. I still remember the first time I raided my father’s record collection and found a record of some Russian circus and we watched it over biscuits and tea one evening. The bliss of childhood!!

Year 1995 : I am going to Neeta’s new house at Kaloor. I haven seen her since school closed for summer vacation the previous year. . I had bought a packet of small animal shaped biscuits as a gift for her from the money from my piggy bank. Her parents have shifted her school to Chinmaya at some far place. But we still kept in touch. I liked her mother and her father and her grand mother and her brother. I liked her new house too. She said she dint like the new school much. And her reports gave her strait C’s.

Year 1996 : I am in grade 5. I sit in the front row trying to look intelligent. The only reason being that the teachers also think so and usually don’t question the front rowers. . My old group of 4 had split up after Neeta changed schools. Ambili had also shifted from our school and the other girl was in another division. It was a boring social science class when the door opened and a girl walked in and said she wanted to meet me. I looked up and saw Neeta there, even the teacher looked surprised but she allowed me to go out. I asked Neeta with whom she had some and she said she came alone, took a bus and crossed a ferry to see me? I was so happy and proud of my friend then. We dint have time for much talk and she left soon giving me a sudden hug and running off.

Year 2000 – My 10^th results are out. Ambili had come to my house after a long time and we were celebrating our success over hot chocolates and ice creams. Life looked good. We were proud of ourselves. Feeling nostalgic about our school days we thought of our old friend and I fished out her number out of an old diary and called her house. A very happy grandmother answered the phone and said Neeta had gone to celebrate her results too. What was her marks I was curious to kno.97% her granny said.

Year 2007 – I have completed my post graduation in Advertising and Public Relations and have started working with an advertisement agency in Cochin. It was then I started orkutting. And I found her again there. Almost 10 – 12 years later, I was almost certain that she would never remember me. But she scraped back saying she did and that we should meet up sometime. Her status said ‘Neets Bizzi lyf’!! Her account showed a lot of friends, a lot of testimonials and a lot of scraps, which said she was very popular among her friends. Her status said that she was committed. I wonder who it was.

Year 2008, 1^st week of December – I am sitting between my mother, father, cousins, aunts and great aunts looking at various bundles of silk sarees the sales people showed us. The colours are appealing; I try to fix my mind on something. I fail. I try again. My mother wants me to wear yellow. My aunt thinks maroon is the right colour for new beginnings. I am confused.. My phone rings –‘recognize me? A girls voice at the other end. ‘No’ I said. I am Neeta here. I was at loss of words. I was speaking to her after 12 years. I dint recognize her voice. I don’t remember her face. But still I feel so good that she called. She asked me something; I couldn’t hear anything thanks to all the chaos my cousins were making for shopping. And I dint know what to speak. I am at loss of words. ‘Il call you back’ I said. But before hanging I reminded her to come and she said yes.

Year 2008 – December 12^th – I am standing on the podium arranged with rose and jasmine flowers with my groom. We had just gotten married and it was all a daze for me. There were mantras in the air, drums and tabalas of pakkamelam playing traditional songs. I stood with my hair decked with jasmine flowers, me decked in gold ornaments that my mother had given me the new crimson maroon silk saree bought for the wedding. The weight of the garland is almost pulling me down. You look beautiful my husband was telling me. I felt happy. We were receiving the guests who had come for our wedding, And then she came! Asking me whether I recognized her, I dint know her. I smiled. She was a tall woman; fair skinned, dark haired, looking elegant in a salwar Kurta sans any make up. I looked again; no I have never seen her anywhere in my life. Neeta, she says. I am awe struck. I open my mouth, I can’t speak. I don’t know what went through me, but I never thought she would come. I had sent her an e- invite but she was in Chennai then. With whom did you come, I asked again, I came alone, she said! And before I could say anything else she was gone, giving me a tight hug and wishing me all happiness in life.

It was later after all the hallaboos of the initial weeks of marriage when we were looking at the wedding album that I could see her properly. She looked so different now. So elegant and feminine and beautiful… A vivid image in my mind kept giving me the face of a small girl of 6 or 7 yrs, which is the picture of her out of our school snap of 4^th grade. Sometimes life has so many ways. And the people in your life are also like that I guess. I don’t know when Il hear from her or see her again. But even if it never happens, she remains my first best friend. I don’t know her much but I still miss her. She doesn’t know me much but I bet she misses me too!!!

VarkeyChettan

There is this somewhat old man in my office who appears every evening with a piece of rag cloth to dust tables shelves and old newspaper stands from dust. Since our office is on the side of a busy road in ekm, by the end of the day even we are coated with dust, let alone immovable objects.

This old man is a short man, around 4 ft tall with a mop of very white hair on his somewhat youthful but weathered  face. I don’t think he s  very old but his white hair and mush makes him look at least 20 years older than what he really is!

We call him Varkey chettan. I dint know his name till our GM’s secretary (I think after a very chaotic day) told me her biggest wish if she ever inherit a few millions would be to give our GM Varkey chettan’s role in the same office. It kept coming to my mind and I had to keep reminding myself not to laugh out lound too many times. It seemed ridiculous because Varkey chettan is like the humblest human being I have ever come across. I am not telling this just cos of his job. But every time you look at him, there’s always a smile on his face. I think he has slightly bugs bunny kinda teeth which makes him ever smiling. He always wears a white shirt which is so dirty that you gotta look twice to make sure it was once white. And his trousers are like 3 fourths and he walks bare foot. But despite all this, one look at his face reveals a lot of things, his ever smiling face makes you also smile, and his eyes twinkle everytime he looks at someone. And if at all you speak a word to him, he’s like in the 7^th heaven. He will be filled with so much happiness that it makes you feel like you did something really good. And it could be just a word.For him its like a great honor. One says there are different kinda people everywhere. But you dont meet this kinda people every day.

Terrorism & the City

With terrorism blooming everywhere, I guess we should start taking things with a pinch of salt or even pepper for a change. Who would have thought that Cochin, such a beautiful haven would be under the so-called terror belt? Yesterday’s newspaper showed photographs of Thammanam Shaji, a notorious gunda head in Kochin who was arrested in connection with recruiting (as if its for an mnc placement!!) of youths to be converted as militants (again as if its for the Indian army!!!!) for terrorist groups. In Cochin we all have heard of this guy and he made the place ‘Thammanam’ quite famous too. But I guess it was for the first time we saw what he looked like. And believe me, he looks like a local rickshaw driver not a bit like the hi end killers we would have liked to imagine. (Remember the famous killer Pavanai in Mohanlals hilarious movie Nadodikattu, I could have liked to see a real gunda like that with all the airs and graces and stupidity included).

Coming back to Terrorism and the City, the tag really doesn’t suit our small town. It should be saved for places like Kashmir, Mumbai, or even Delhi – all the big names. Comm’on there are so many metros if these guys really want to play bang bang. And whats the point anyways? Over the years, history has taught us that mankind needs some kind of feeling of importance, an excitement or even a purpose for living. Remember the gladiators of Rome, or the great wars fought to save countries, people who tried to survive epidemics, or even great natural calamities, the great Indian wars, American revolutions, dark ages, the Hiroshima nagasakshi fiasco etc etc. All this had at their point given then living people a sense of importance to be a part of it, be it in the better side or bad, we are not looking for whats right and not here. In our time I guess it comes in the form of terrorism. Always there should be the good guys and the bad. And the good guys should win in the end. That sounds like the law of nature.

But again why Kochin, I am still not getting over the urge to keep cribbing about it. And more than concerns for safety, the emotion has more to do with anger me thinks. It’s such a peaceful place (well u really don’t count the no of bus strikes or hartals and even the stories that come about thefts and murders.. we are talking about Terrorism here!!) Well its evil ,anyways guess that’s what this bang bang is all about. All I pray is none of ma friends or relatives or anyone I know surprise me by making headlines tomorrow by having links knowingly or unknowingly in this network. Lets hope for a real peaceful city real soon. Amen!!

In synonym with thyself

I had had this thought now and again to start blogging again, with my”too lazy to blog status looking creepy to myself. There are lots of examples that could be thought of, but since my blog is still not famous, I think its best to keep it to myself.

For the past few days I have gone through a lot of changes. Changes that may have happened to a hell’a’latta people;) and which will happen to yet another hell’a’latta’ people again;);) Last week I finally snapped out of my dovish depression that was jiggering me for the past few weeks. I don’t know if it was because I finally got into the mood of the festivities that’s coming up or maybe it can even be due the stones I started wearing in my fingers which is supposed to have great healing powers. Who knows? Anyways I am back to being myself;)

Onam @ Express

In days of yore, 23 is the age of consent . Which means at 23 you can start working, start earning, and start spending at your wallets consent. A lot of things would have happened in your life by this age, you would have crawled over your teen years, and stumbled upon your youth but still sometimes trying to figure out what’s in store. When you start searching for a job, you look for a lot of things. Coming out from B Schools that provided a 5 star ambiance my expectations were skyrocketed.

I started working for Indian Express when I turned 23. (Well I am still 23, I am talking only bt 8 months). My colleagues (though some keep coming and going) are waaaay seniors (talk about being in midst of a 20-25 years older gen). From the first day I had this feeling of not able to fit in like the rest. For starters I would get these stares and smiles when I choose to wear a sleeve less dress or even a salwar sans its dupatta (I don even think of wearing pants or skirts, forget it I am in ape land) or the number of times I have to explain to concerned aunties and uncles why I had to be late or after lunch. There was this tendency to make me feel like a small girl who was just out from school, which really annoyed me. (Common I was here to show I was wos the best). I felt they weren’t competitive enough. That most of them were past their prime time and had to leave. And the amount of work people do in this office…There was no spare time left for anything, every minute, every second people did work, there was always this noise of phones ringing, faxes coming, printers churning out papers, of draws being closed, box files being kept back…. It’s a huge office, like any other newspaper offices, it hasn’t left behind the past like the people who adorn it…. there are old beures, old fans that s yellowing like the walls, old computers (that too yellowing with age), old chairs n tables, mosaic floors, and an antique collection of newspapers I guess right from the inception of the branch huddled up in a corner stand for display.

But now after 8 months (seems like an eternity), my views have changed about the place. No I haven yet resigned or nothing bad has happened in my life for me to realize something worthwhile. Just 2 days back, we had our Onam Celebration. I have never celebrated Onam in a more elaborate manner in my life. The preparations for it had started 2 months back. We had formed a committee and various duties were assigned to members. Everything from inauguration to choosing the guests, to selecting the saris to onasadya to even the design of the pookalam were assigned. I was awe stuck, why such a fuss over a small thing like this? But later I realized it was one way of ensuring everyone’s involvement and thus creating a sense of belonging. (Its not easy to make people happy in an organization with over 300 employees). We were so much excited for our “thiruvathirakali” were we took one hour of working hour for practice everyday. Oh the fun we had!!(And I broke a toe too in ween!) Our Onam celebration was one of the best times I had so far. A lot of things happened that day. We saw another side of people, a more fun loving, a more lively, a more happenening side;)..After various activities like vadamvali, uriyadi, thiruvathirakali, onasadya, onapattu, games etc etc, the day was over. We laughed so much that heads started aching in the end. I saw the elder aunties full of pride after our dance as if their daughters have performed, and it was cute the way department heads make noise when they won a game. And it was probable the only time we got to make fun of our gm’s bald head and the hr managers beer belly without getting fired in public;).It reminded me a lot of our school days. Who knows what it ll be like next Onam and where il be?

wonder years!!

Yesterday I wos spring cleanin a cupboard in my room and found my college album…As I looked into the snaps it wos suddenly very overwhelming .. And I don’t know why.. I could feel this chill down my spine looking at all these times we shared.. n at da same time i shuddered at the thought of never gettin these times back again,And I wished we had one of those time machine which could take me (us) back to 2002. That’s when my college life starts.

 

I wondered bout going back to my first day in college, where I said good bye to a very teary uncle n aunt n a very cheerful mom;) when they took off after seeing me at the gate of ma college in coimbatore…..bout seeing the bunch of ma classmates for the first time, all 47 of us laden with bags n kits, all smiling n eager yet nervous for the first day. I rem our first class room on the top most floor which outlooked beautiful mountains and misty skies where it always used to drizzle…And it just got better from there…

 

I tried to remember kirti, my bst frnd,(whos now roller-skating smewer  between Switzerland, uk n India) the number of times we bunked classes for movies,the fun we had roaming around the town in her bike, Or suvi the babe, how we always made fun of her for each n everythin, Bhavna with her look at me attitude , all the night outs and rides when we stayed the weekends at her place, n Ezra who always made it a point to fight with any guy, who behaved badly to me,and remains a loyal frind n his gfs no 1 & 2 both who happened to be ma best friends at their point of time, Or Ashpana with her hilda stories and “sickyas”, or Sarfaraz and his funny ways of hairdos and body piercing…I wished I could see ashwin, my lone crush who never knew bout it, or viji, the bi**** whom he had a crush on lol;)…Dulin, my wonderful rommie and all our  late night talks and how we usd to share our fears and fantacies, Chitra and her lovely voice which could fill the room with her vassegara..,nilen, the first guy I got incredibly drunk with or andrew our sweet teddy bear… 

Its been 3 years since we all parted ways…..But it feels like an eternity… I don’t know when I ll ever meet them again… And if at all we meet, will it be the same again? will we still laugh the way we did and talk nonsense nonstop…will we still wonder wer to spend our nxt weekend and jst pack our back paks n zoom off? rem the endless plans like before…will we ever have our share of fights and make gangs within the group and in the end realize that we all belong together? Will we ever meet up in nest and argue bout having  lemon tea or fountain pepsi? Would we ever spend our evenings around a table at jm and just while away time over  khati rolls? Or jst sit smewer  in smebodys terrace n watch stars and the moon while smeone strngs a guitar and  Nilen or ezra sings “you fill up ma senses” or “wonderful tonit” and feel this wos heaven ..Or plannin for a surprise bday party at 12, worse still tryin to hide wen its yurs(think eggs,tomatos n such things on yur face at 12 on yur bday)…Collg wos sooo mchh fun.. I wish there were more of those years…I wish we never got past those years and it wos still the same….those wer really te wonder years!!

sometimes love rotts!!

Its when you start to think that life is so full of happiness wen yur in love that love suddenly starts to rott…I don exactly mean that, but just making my point that love is not always so dewy eyed and mushy talk.Not at all.

I am not an easy person to be in love with!That may sound like a confession, that most girls make. But its true to an extend. We girls think we are a prize possesion for our guys.Hmmm starting from  taking so much pains to look pretty, with all the yikkkeee waxing and threading trips to beauty saloons which we all dread so much,having to be tensed over every chipped nail which would mean yur nail polish wont look that prettyyy,hating the sun for it gets yu tanned so that yur guy won have the awwwww feeling wen he sees you, trying out umpteen creams and face packs for a lil dusky beauties like me so that he doesn have to keep looking past every fair beatuties who has to cross his way, saving up for days even months sometimes to get that lovely shoe or that salwar though we would have bills to pay…..its all our effort for you to be proud of us!!

Its moreover a sacrifice for a woman to fall in love with a man! Its more or less always whats she prefers too…She would prefer him over a lot a things, like her family,her career, her friends, sometimes its a sacrifice even for choosing a restaurant to dine or a city to live in. It would always what the guy wants to do that we would say thumos up to rather than our interests. May be its cos we are brought up in a culture where our mothers waited up til wee hours at night for our father who will be back late after work,after a small party with his frnds to have dinner,where he would be served the best things in the house in the best cutleries.Men are always given an edge though we say womans liberation n such shit.Because deep down we know that it makes us happy to be sacrificing things for him,cos we love him, love the domination, love the feeling of being protected, feeling that somebody takes care f us…

But when love rotts, you get that sour feelin that everything that you have been doin is for nothing.More times it would be a simple thing, like in my case, my guy wants to go for his friends wedding where the grroms dad is my dead enemy(read ex boss) who hasn invited me for the function.May be it would be a small issue, and I mit be knowing it thats its silly to bring the father into the scene.But hey common, hes supopsed to be my bf, and in 3 months we are getting married, my enemies should be his too, but he still insisted that he WILL go for the wedding, the friend is his BEST friend, so don brng the dad into this!!And thats it end of story, I would have done a hundred things to make him feel good, but they wont even sacrifice a small thing to make ou feel good if they dont want to!!SOmetie LoVe RoTTS!!!!!!!

Dairy-8.8.2008

Todays supposed to be a special day, wth all the 8th day of the 8th month of the 8th year in the 20th century and all that, said my friend smetime early in the day today. Well, maybe it is or may be its not. I came to office as usual, after a rather bumby 30 min ride in a rickshaw and then realised I had forgotton my id card. Luckli te guy wos not there to check ,else it would have been anothr problem.

I guess I reached early, only sijo wos there as usual reading the newspaper and yawning as if he hasn slept in 2 days straight.Boss is on leave, kinda miss him actually. So that means another free day to browse,read news papr(the one good thing bout workin for a newspaper, yu get to read almost all the dailies, national n international),chat,gossip and in between making a few call to pretend that you are workin too. Missin seema too, shes supposed to be rejoining today, but havn got a clue wers shes vanished.Tried to call her, but her phones switched off. Tried thinkin of sme ways to reach her like  callin up Impresario and gettin her designer frind who did te saris for Miss kerala contest’s number n then find her no or try getting her hubbs office nbr n find out bt her…hmm both too much of work, so decided to wait until either she decides to switch on the phone or cme to office, which ever first.

Have booked tickets for movie Veruthey oru Bharya(not realy sure bt te lietral translation bt i guess it s smethin like just a wife for no particular reason or smethin like tat). Have finally gotten my guy to agree to cme for a movie with me.After 11 monnts of bein together today is the day hes finally agreed for a movie!!I guess he likes his new office much me too cos it doesn hold him till wee hours like the old one.

………………………………………………………..

10 pm: I din kno I could take so much pains to see such an outstandingly stupid movie.It s funny in a way, I managed to send send priya n mobin on time to get the tickets but got myself standin on te road lookin at a traffic block which i realised could be slower than a snail.So I took a walk across two blocks,went underneath an over bridge, crossed a railcross, took a rickshaw again n finaly got to the theatre to fnd my guy patiently waitin down. We wantd to tell the producer guy wo wos waitin outside it wos great till interval, after which we would have trashed him up then n there.anyways.

It wos supposed to be a special day with all the 8th day of the 8th month of the 8 year of the 20th sentury.Hmmmmm…

I see the world in a grain of sand,

And heaven in a wild flower…
Hold infinity in the palm of my hand….
And eternity in an hour…

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