Love makes Life live….

There are very few things in this universe that actually interest or move a writer / poet. It’s no different with me. For me, things are never like,


WOW! I am so happyyy!!!

OMG!! I feel on top on the world!!!



That’s why when I watched “Aashiqui 2,” my heart skipped a beat. It was like me waking up after a long slumber. Hibernation.

The film was not just another film .

For me , it was my perfect love story. PERFECT. I am not here to review the film or flatter myself by announcing to the world on how outwardly moving I  thought it was. After a very long time, I saw a film that had me crying, not from my eyes, but my soul.

After a very long time, I saw a saga that was based on just love. No bloodshed , no unrealistic promises and no hogwash dialogues . The film hit that chord which no film had strung in a long time in me.

It beautifully spoke of how much and how madly two people can love each other. It elucidated how fragile that feeling is when you see your loved one crumble there in front of you . At some point we all have must seen that or gone through it .

The ethereal moment when Rahul Jayekar confesses his love for Aarohi Shirke .


That feeling of anger when Rahul Jayekar overhears people gossiping on how he used Aarohi for his own fun and frolic, that helplessness when a woman cannot help her man or that man who could not help himself.


Aashiqui 2 is all that. A painful, emotionally loaded drama with music (links below) , or should I say odes to love, that illustrate how love triumphs not only through physical journeys but also often comes out in flying colors through distances or loss.

Sometimes….love doesn’t need presence. All it needs is ………..Aashiqui . 

Here is the link to my personal favourite song(s) :





My hunger had gotten the best of me and amidst unobtrusive and almost dead streets; I swerved my car to the nearest Subway, where upon entering, I saw, what looked like a well-educated man in shorts; ranting away to glory about how the staff had charged him extra for 2 pieces of turkey slices and blabbered on about how he had been coming over to Subway for 8 years, but nobody had dared charge him extra for 2 slices!! His screaming, disgracefully insulting the staff reminded me of this simple fact:

“If we, as civilized humans, cannot treat another human with the same basic respect, what expectation can we keep with ourselves to run our country? Who do we blame if not ourselves?”

This incident happened with me today.

Satyamev Jayate came on air some odd 8-9 weeks back and awakened the ME in myself.

Like every other emotionally drained Indian, I had a lot of expectations with the show, with Aamir Khan.

I could hear whispers …. Silent musings and often ignorant comments:

“Salman bhi aaya, Shahrukh bhi , ab Aamir toh aayega hi na.”


“Another TRP Hungry show!!”


“ Isko kya deshbhakti ka bhoot chad gaya .”


Everybody was talking. Curiosity killed the cat and it ate us up too.

On May 6th 2012, when it debuted on TV, with it’s baby steps on Female Foeticide, SMJI , had managed to subtly but bluntly crush my conscience . It had done nothing new, nothing novel. The show was just showing me a different angle of what news channels had stuffed down my throat from the past I-don’t-know-how-many-decades.

Female Foeticide!

Untouchability .

Old age




These issues were not new ….these problems didn’t germinate today and neither did their victims. They were there…always there. Just not exposed. Never spoken about or rather, spoken to

Our holy books talk about Untouchability.

Our culture still thrives on the fact that it is the Son who carries the family forward. The daughter is just to be passed on from one to the other.

No matter how modern we say we are, but “HUM AAJ BHI BETIYO KO KHAALI HAATH VIDA NAHI KARTAY.” If that’s not dowry, what is!! 

 I, as an Indian, was sick of it. I, as an Indian, was handicapped. I, as an Indian, felt that what I, alone could do.

Satyamev Jayate entered as the perfect guru in my life. It taught me that like every   country that had problems, within those concerns, were people who may look miniscule to the outside world, but they, had made gigantic contributions to the society around them.

For them, the paparazzi didn’t count. They did not need any blah news channel to  propagate them to finish their task.

Satyamev Jayate was the epic saga of those individuals who believed that if one has ONLY determination to change, they could.

SMJI made me realise I could do that too.

For some, the show became a Daily Sunday morning ritual. For me, it was my Sunday night prime time. A 1.5 hour long reality show, where reality was shown as it is. No editing or tweaking promos & no over-the –top “Maine tumhari chaddiyaan tak dhoyi hain .” Excellent research supported with current figures, a heart-warming chat session and extracting what was missing within us. AWARENESS.

Yes, I agree that the show dwelled on what is most dear to us Indians, our emotions. Aamir Khan knew the quintessential manner to manipulate them and he did. I thank him.

We needed this jerk. We needed a brain teaser to actually shake us up and tell us,


“If Dasrath Manjhi can single-handedly carve a 360-foot-long (110 m), 25-foot-high (7.6 m) and 30-foot-wide (9.1 m) road by cutting a mountain of Gehlour Hills with a hammer, chisel and nails working day and night for 22 years from 1960 to 1982, reducing the distance between Atri and Wazirganj blocks of Gaya District from 70 km to just 7 km, all for his wife. I can do it too”

“If one little girl can tell her mother, what her uncles did to her. You or I can too.” 

The problem with SMJI was just one. It forced me to think. Made us realise, sitting in our sofas or bean bags that there are people who may not have the comforts we have, but surely, have a more meaningful life than us.

The problem with SMJI was just one. It made me understand that no matter how many issues we have, how many different troubles surround us; a small step can bring about a huge change.

Take the case of that 70 year old lady rifle shooter. Her old age gave her a new hobby. I am only 27, and sometimes I am already bored of my surroundings.

For many journalists , SMJI came as a shocker. Aamir Khan was doing what they failed to achieve. He was digging out the dirt that many Sagarika Ghosh’s or even Deepak Chaurasia’s couldn’t do in these years… His whole planogram was just to wake up the India – emotionally or physically, that was just whiling away their time munching on caramelised popcorn in those multiplexes!

I can writhe my frustration through my words…somebody else can through music…Aamir did it through our inner nerves.

Let’s not wait for a time when the only “I” we can relate to is our “i” Phone!!!


The Indian cricket circus – On why I love the IPL

I am no cricket commentator who uses her flowery linguistic abilities to talk about a game or not some film star-turned-franchise owner who just fulfills her cricket commitments by hugging and literally falling off in the arms of a turbannator.

I am just another layman cricket aficionado and I love the Indian Premier League a.k.a IPL.

Lalit Modi brought that, to this Gentleman’s game what Dimple Kapadia in Bobby bequeathed to the Indian Film Industry.

Scantily clad but hot cheerleaders winging their pom-poms , the fanatic crowd going bonkers over that six or simply  showing enthusiasm to see themselves on the big screen or  Chris Gayle playing against his own team mate pollard , it all happens here. Right there on the ground.

The Indian Premier league in a way was a route to not only adding that glam quotient in the otherwise 50 over you bat-I ball game , it is also a pertinent example of how one man otherwise unheard of, could overhaul or change cricket in such an imminent fashion .

You know what I feel is the best part about IPL. Of course the money, but pushing that aside, it’s the whole cricket diaspora that gets shuffled and comes together (barring the Pakistani Cricketers, wonder why?) and for a whole 1.5 months, it’s an Indian cricket circus. You see a West Indian like Kieron Pollard who wouldn’t even know the first alphabet of Marathi, play for Mumbai Indians or  a smoking hot Kevin Pietersen (who makes my estrogen level shoot up to its maximum) play for the Dilli ka Dabanng (Delhi Daredevils ). It’s this amalgamation of cricketers we all love or loathe, that puts the IPL on a different pedestal altogether.

Yes, we have stalwarts who think it’s just about the moolah or just about rescinding the format of the game. Look at the incalculability of this tournament that a retired Saurav Ganguly who would probably never come back to the One day or Test format, lands up here as the captain of the Pune Warriors India and yes, we are still hooting at him, no matter how he plays or how he behaves.

Munaf Patel hurls abuses & points fingers at the umpire…Harbhajan slaps sreesanth , Preity Zinta almost jumps in Yuvraj Singh’s lap,  would you get to see this in a stiff upper-lip test match format.


No right.

Let me be very candid. I do not follow Ranji cricket as much as my guy friends do but picture this, Ashok Dinda , one of the many nets bowlers who had come down for a session with Kolkata Knight Riders,  bagged his first coveted IPL contract before he made his debut for Bengal in Ranji Trophy, all thanks to who, RICKY PONTING.

This is what this 3 hour fast and furious game does. Bring out the pool of talent that we have in this country and make them play against novices or some of the best names in cricket.



Colossal amount of auctioning, numerous sponsors , a truckload of national and international cricketers from around the world & an already cracked up Indian media all come together in this tournament to give us, yes, cricket crazy citizens like us, another reason to rejoice.  We see fireworks; DJ’s belting out “Pyar ki Pungi bajakar,” in the stadiums, and Ravi Shastri at his idiomatic best, all in one day.


Indian Premier League is the glossy Hindi film that delves more on shoo-shaa than content.


The biggest money spinner, the humongous publicity and yes, the opportunity to bring global cricketing names to your doorstep whilst spotting the rookies, Indian Premier League is well…..something that I relish.


IPL is just a form of mollycoddling cricket.

Don’t take it too seriously. Just enjoy the tamasha 🙂

*Goes back to watching Delhi Daredevils Vs Mumbai Indians match*

Musings of a Jobless Lass – Part 5 (Home Alone – A blessing or a curse??

You know what’s awful??

Knowing that your parents are in another country, sojourning and you are still sitting wastefully in front of  this computer, trying to write this article &  the worst part is….YOUR CONCENTRATION IS OUT THERE…PLAYING FOOTBALL !!!

Yes….My parents are out of town!!! But wait…Do I look like I’m taking full advantage of it???


I am sitting at home, wearing the same 2 day old clothes with the same 2 year old jacket and babysitting my sister and my maid, when I should be out there in my best clothes , roaming around town like a stray dog , sniffing away to glory.

These, I quote, were the exact words of my father, before he made me the official watchman:

“Honey, you are the eldest of this family. Until we come back, you have to act as the mother of this house (jaw-drops).”

My eyes suddenly lit up and cheeks expanded to double their size as I thought to myself, “If I’m the mother, can I call the acting father of this house too!!”


“Did you hear what I just said honey and listen, for these 2 weeks, I’m going to give you Dhs 300 for the house expenses, I think that should be enough?”

“And yes, I forgot, keep a roving eye on this maid. If he acts smart, let me know and I shall give him a peace of my mind from there.”


“Both you and your sister should avoid going out at night and if you do, be back by 9pm, sharrrrrppp.”

I officially wanted to show my dad my birth certificate for a change today & make him realize that I am not a 2 or 7 year old, I am a FREAKING 27!!!

If this wasn’t enough, wait and read what my mom had in store for me,

OH WAIT!! Where in God’s name is my brother???

Just before I could spring to my ninja form, my mom in her most genuinely authoritarian best, brings her list forward:

“No. 1 – Get up every morning at 5am, and get your sister dressed for school , with her breakfast and water bottle .”

Oh wait, how old was my sister again? 16 right ?? Hmmmm….

My comments were again snubbed as my suggestions….

“No. 2 – Make sure the maid spotlessly cleans the house and cooks lunch on time, so that your brother & sister don’t have to wait.”


“No. 3 – Don’t let your brothers unnecessary and rowdy friends enter my home and touch your father’s bar. If they do, I’ll catch your neck.”

That’s it. I quit.

“No. 4- oh yeah, the last and the most important one, No Late nights.”

 I just felt like that aging lion that could not hunt because he was old but   couldn’t do anything else, as he didn’t know anything else.







So this is the excitement, the fun, the frolic and the freedom I deserve. When my parents go out, I am no less than a supervisor nanny, just supposed to watch over people and gossip it to my mom and dad back home .

So much for Life’s good times!!

But you know like they say, if you can’t go to the party, CALL THE PARTY HOMEEEEE!!!!

*Music in the background, honey gets drunk and falls to the ground while her sister is still whining for her dinner*

Musings of a Jobless Lass – Part 2 (Magazines and Festive Gifts)

Musings of a Jobless Lass – Part 2 (Magazines and Festive Gifts)

It’s close to 8PM on a Friday evening here in my boring haven and like all normal people out there, I should be partying , drinking and roaming the streets of this made-up city . But, since I am penniless(not literally) I chose to sit and tumble it all on tumblr. 

I am in a very bizarre state of mind today. Naah…not worried about my larger than life DOG. But , trying to coax or convince myself of a tradition that’s been so long a part and parcel of the Indian culture.

Gifting during festivals

According to the Indian calendar , the festival of lights or Diwali , as we call it , is soon approaching on the 26th of this month and before I know it , I am turned into a full time driver (Yes, again because I’m not busy and am jobless) who will drive her parents out to every relative’s house to deliver gifts to them.

But hey, that’s yet not the problem.

The problem is this :  I was just lazily turning the pages of a magazine that comes out every friday and came across an article on what one could gift during this festive season. This is what I saw and pardon my french but I just couldn’t take this paradigm change all of a sudden :

 ”Surprise your loved ones with these THOUGHTFUL (will tell you why I put this is CAPS) GIFTS and watch their faces light up.” 

” An awesome watch from FENDI.”

“Swarovski diamond pendants and earrings.” 

” A Watch studded with diamonds from Gucci,” and the cracker of all, 

” Perfumes from no less that Gucci , Burberry and what not.”

Honestly, I am not against gifting…but this just doesnt look like gifting to me . It more or less resembles pretentious and over-the-top money laundering to me.

Where was the thoughtfulness in it (Scroll up to see THOUGHTFUL in CAPS) . There were times when gifts were given out of love and concern and as a gesture to celebrate rather than to show who’s pocket is heavier then whose!!!

I’m sure you all remember how any family festival , when we were young had our nanas, dadas and friends come over and celebrate the festival in full vigour. But now, it’s all about “OMG!! Look at my new diamond necklace. My hubby gifted it to me on our 2nd Anniversary. He loves me so much na?” 

You crazy woman!! This gift was not out of his love… it was out of your desperation to show off to your friends that he had to buy it for you .

Aaaah….Peeps, realise the importance of gifts in our lives . They are meant to make bonds of love stronger ,not highlight which brand looks better or which costs more.

Gifts are given out of love , no matter the money. It was never about who spends more…it’s all about the feelings . Respect them .

Let the society change….let it become modern…but our feelings , our love has to remain grounded. Relations are built and nurtured that ways.

So, this festive season….be it Diwali/Christmas or anything….Bring out the gifts that your loved ones would cherish and remember all their lives . 🙂

OHHH Damnn!! My Dogggg…..Gotta go peeps…!!

Till then….Happy Festivities..

Musings of a Jobless Lass – Part 1

Sitting on my bed at 4:30 pm on a Thursday evening and wondering whether to sleep or write, signifies just one thing-“I am JOBLESS.”

Well, before you tend to rather miss this write-up thinking I am gonna brag or cry about my new phase of life, let me tell you…I ain’t new to it babay!!

Every alternate year I am jobless.

I was working in 2005 and 2007 I was jobless (which resulted in me going for my masters), 2009 I was jobless and 2010 I had a job and mid 2011 I am again jobless. So you see, my professional life is more like a gym cycle. It runs…but with its own pace and often its chains are seen hanging out , asking for repair.

Just yesterday, my mom gave me her daily dose of  recruitment gyaan orknowledge(for those unknown to hindi linguistics) . 

Mom – Why don’t you apply for a bank? It’s a good and stable job and they pay you well .

Me  – Mommmmmmm, I am not the bank types…you know I’m horrible at numbers!! 

Mom – Do me a favor then!! Sit at home all your life whilst all your friends are busy minting money. “Kahan pichle 2 mahine tak you had Dhs 20,000 in your account and now only Dhs 10,000 is left(with her oh-so-emotional-concerned look). 

Me – *YAWN*

The best thing about being jobless is the fact that nobody expects anything from you. Your friends dont expect gifts on their birthdays…your parents don’t expect on their anniversaries , birthdays or even diwali parites, blah blah and blah .

BUT…..what if they don’t expect…you still do!!! Atleast they are earning !!!

So, gear up with your sympathy socks and enjoy this phase while it lasts. I’ll be back tomorrow to understand why my dog actually sleeps on my bed when its kennel is way much bigger and airy !!!!