Mission Impossible...NOT!

I should probably start another blog space all together for the adventures of my ally, Ms. Pallavika Ghising and I.  Since her arrival to the capital in September, Pallu (as I fondly call her) and I have taken every measure to see each other regularly(even though we live in the extreme opposite ends of the city). Yes, Delhi is big, might I add, very...very big! Thanks to the Common Wealth Games, the metro lines.(I am still not very familiar with that mode of transportation but I am getting there), in South Delhi have decreased our geographical distance and helped us get to each other frequently.

A couple of days ago, Pallu called me and asked me to join her on 'Operation- Ganga International School'. Apparently, her father had sent some stuff through a kid(who belongs to the state place as Pallu), studying there and we were supposed to go and collect it. Commando Pallu and I, met at Rajeev Chowk Metro station, circa 3:30pm. We purchased tickets until Kashmere Gate and yes, spent that time, talking and laughing at people around and people, that we could recall from long ago.

At Kashmere Gate, our throats went dry and we decided to buy something to drink from one of the kiosks. Since we had to change the lines and buy tickets for the Red Line, we had to drop the token, walk out of the exit, buy new tokens and pass through the security (again). As we were passing through the security, one of the guards, in his disgusting, irritating, dominating voice boomed at Pallu (in Hindi, obviously),
"Madame, you are not allowed to drink that in here. Go out and finish it."
Before she could retaliate, I plunged in, "We bought these drinks from inside the metro. If you want people drinking outside, you should set up kiosks and shops outside; And are we the only ones drinking and eating here? We are not even inside the train. What is your problem?"
The Security guard mumbled something and another of his aides came forward stating, "You all eat and drink here and leave the trash lying around."
"What do you mean by 'you all' ? " Pallu darted at him.
Before he could explain himself, for the second time that day, I barged in saying, "Have you seen her and me specifically throwing trash around? Do you even know us or recognize our faces?"
The guards were now a little agitated as people had started crowding around. We were giving them a street-play.
"And you don't need to teach us about keeping the environment safe and clean," Pallu shot at him, "We know better."
Moving towards the ticket counter, still drinking, I looked at the guard and then at Pallu and in the most sarcastic tone ever, said, "Is he a retard?"
"I think so," she responded.
We bought the tickets up to Inderlok and shooting glances at the guards and still drinking, walked past the security and up to the platform.
On reaching the platform, we realized there were no trash-bins around so we tossed the empty packets right there and looking at each other, giggling.
"Stupid, irritating asshole guards!"
"This stupid station doesn't even have a dust-bin!" I said in a, as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

On reaching Indelok, we realized we had to change lines again. So we purchased tickets up to Mundra and got on the Green Line. We had to pass through 13 stations and as we sat there, we started talking about brothels and prostitution. (It was probably the girls around that prompted us to begin the topic.) We laughed like Schizophrenics, as I re-told her the story that my ex-boyfriend had told me about the whore-houses at G.B Road and the famous Khal-Para at Siliguri, West Bengal. People stared at us as If we came from a different planet. Just then, I noticed a girl who had love bites on her neck and she took no measures to cover them. In fact, she seemed proud about it. I nudged Pallu and she understood what I meant. We sat there through 13 stations and when we finally reached Mundra, It was dark and the stars were out.

The school was about 4-5 kms away from the metro station and the janitor at the Mundra station advised us to take the bus. I gave a "no-way" look at Pallu. We thought we'd find an auto-rickshaw and hire it up to the school and back to the metro-station. To our utter disappointment and misfortune, there were not a single auto-rickshaw in sight and we felt like we really came from another planet. The people around were staring at us and passing comments. With our small eyes, fair-skinned complexion and 'Western Outfit' we definitely did not belong there. We walked ahead and saw a bus that was packed with people. Yeah, right...take the bus? That's be like purchasing tickets to let creepy-sweaty men molest you in the crowd. We walked as some people walked along with us and stared and said things that we did not understand. Pallu started getting scared, petrified!
"I always carry a Swiss-knife," I comforted her.

This man, had run out of fuel and was walking with his bike to a petrol pump.
"Excuse me Uncle, " I said.
He looked at us.
"Is this the route to Hirak kund....??? eh??? something like that?" (in Hindi)
"Where are you all going?" He asked
"Ganga International School," in unison.
"Yeah, this is the route. Why? Where are you from? Who are you going to meet?" etc etc etc the man interrogated. After explaining our mission, he said It's not safe for us to walk there on our own so he would accompany us till the gas station and he would even give us a lift on his bike till the school. Yes, we could not help ourselves and started laughing as I imagined the three of us on his bike.
"You sit in the middle," Pallu ordered.
The disadvantage of being skinny and petite is, whenever there's a crowd, you are expected to sit on someone's lap or ride trips on bikes! I've had enough of such experiences.

The petrol pump was almost 2 kms away and we walked. I started getting this side pain on my tummy region. I thought I would collapse. The uncle had found us very fascinating and he kept questioning us about everything.
"Are you from Nepal? China?"
I thought I'd lose all my energy, including my voice by the time the mission was completed.

After filling fuel at the gas station, the Uncle started his bike. I got in, placed my bag in between so there would be no body-to-body contact with the rider.(ewwwwww). Pallu almost fell off while trying to get on and yes, we laughed again. The school was another 2 or 2.5 kms away so as we rode on the highway, the three of us, Pallu kept laughing. I thought the man would lose his patience and leave us in the middle of the road. He kept talking and he even commented that we should have come early and how silent and deserted the area seemed to be. To which, Pallu, as If it was a reflex, responded,
"Haan-ji yeh area toh kitna veeran hai!" (This area is eerie-ly deserted.)
In that uncomfortable and space-deprived position, I managed to take a life-risking turn and look at Pallu. I gave her a, you-did-not-just-say-that look!
She laughed and then I just couldn't hold it. I laughed so hard. The uncle probably thought we were run-aways from some asylum.
Finally, we saw the school gate. Thanked the good Samaritan for his help and asked the security guard to call XYZ. As we waited there, in the dark, we asked the security guards If we could sit inside the school compund and wait. He allowed so we sat there and then this weird, cattle-like smell filled the air.
"Ewwww what's that smell?" Pallu asked, getting disgusted.
"It smells like a cow," I answered.
Just then we saw, near-by there was a stable and there were horses there.
"OMG! Look Avvan, horses!" Pallu screamed, like as If we had discovered water in the desert.
"So cool! these kids have riding facility?"
"I wish my parents had sent me to a boarding school where we could ride horses," Pallu said, with regret and sadness in her voice.
"Yeah, me too," I joined.
Boy XYZ turned up with the stuff. Pallu and he exchanged formal greetings and had a small talk. Once the exchange was made, I breathed a sigh of relief! It was past 8:30pm and the sky was dark and the breeze, chilly.

I'd used my brain previously(while walking) and booked a taxi that could come pick us up and take us back home. Well, there was no way we could find another transport back to the metro station and walking back would be totally insane! We requested the security guards to allow us to wait in the school premises until the cab arrived. He let us. As Pallu and me, still gossiped and laughed about silly things, a drunkard showed up at the gate. He mumbled something and shook his index finger, like a warning sign at Pallu.
Instead of getting scared, we both started laughing.

I think we spent almost an hour, sitting there as I made frantic calls to the taxi-driver, every ten minutes, who kept lying that he was driving real fast(like James Bond). He finally showed up and as Pallu and me got into the car, we breathed a sigh of relief.

It took us more than an hour to get home. In between Pallu kept complaining that she gets car-sick and that, she wanted to throw up. Fortunately, she didn't. I don't know what I would have done, had she actually thrown up. We didn't even have a bottle of water and had run out of tissues! Let's NOT imagine that situation. Enough adventure for the day!

Operation- Ganga International School was completed and Agent Pallu and Agent Avvan, took pride and were satisfied at the accomplishment. (Believe me, If Agent Ethan Hunt is reading this, he is worrying about his replacement in the next Mission Impossible movie.)

In another hour, I am heading to the famous flea market, Sarojini Nagar, with Pallu. I'll keep you updated If adventure finds us again, or If we find it ;)

Love at First(and probably Last) Sight

My friend, Pallavika and I were loitering around Kamla Nagar, North Delhi the other day. We'd planned the north trip so we could visit Majnu ka Tilla(MT), the famous Tibetan locality, to hog 'Ghar ko Khana.' After eating more than our stomachs could take, we headed towards K-Nags(That's what the Delhi University students call Kamla Nagar).

Exhausted and irritated at the queue outside the ATM, Pallu and I decided to stop at Cafe Coffee Day for a while. We placed our orders and were gossiping about everything and anything in the world. Obviously, laughing at the waiter who took our order.(He seemed to have some sort of mental disorder....Progeria??? Autism??? ). Pallu complained her eyes looked strained and her liner smudged so she borrowed my make-up bag(Hello Kitty one) and was giving herself some touch-up. Since we were seated at a table near the entrance and CCD(Cafe Coffee Day) has glass doors(duh....obviously!!!!), we could see people walking outside in the street. I could see them actually, as Pallu had her back facing the door and I had the view.

We were talking about something insignificant and laughing and then.....There he was! Suddenly a breeze blew over and in the background, a piano started playing. White tee, jeans, fair skinned, short(not very short) hair and dimpled cheeks. He was walking with some of his friends(I assumed) and then he looked in. I looked straight at him and my heart stopped beating for a while. Seriously, we were looking at each other. His face, His expression...that moment....It was all too good to be true!!! I heard no sound, I felt nothing, except this elevated feeling. It was like the movies. Slow-motion and all that jazz...He continued walking but his eyes were fixed on me; I continued staring, oblivious and callous to Pallu blabbering. In the background, Aqualung's "Brighter than Sunshine" played on.

Then he bumped into his friend who was walking ahead. Suddenly, he realized how silly he looked and an embarrassed smile crossed his face. His dimples displayed at the left cheek. I thought I was about to collapse. He, then shook his head in embarrassment and looked at me again, the smile, still stuck on his face. I stared (gawked??)  at him and he passed by...His image faded away and then, reality struck me like lightning.

"OMG! OMG! OMG!" I screamed. Pallu, shocked and surprised. "What happened?"
"I just saw this super cute guy pass by."
Pallu turned around and tried to locate the face I was talking about...Too late...He'd walked away. "Where?"
"He was there....He was there," I said, excitedly.
"Gosh! calm down woman...," Pallu went back to her touching-up process.
Sighhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

That was that...I don't know who he is. All I know is our eyes met that one moment and the world stopped spinning. Out of the 6 billion people in the world, I know, He and I, shared one long moment. I wish Life was like the movies. . . I wish our paths would cross again; But honestly, even If It did, I wouldn't be able to recognize him. Anyway, that one short moment will last forever...

Ahhhhh....White Tee Guy with the cute dimples...Where are you????? Who are you??? Will I see you again???

The Wet Stuff

Controversial title...eh??? If you are a Josephite; especially a boarder(lived in the school hostel), you would know what I am talking about, And If you are reading this because the title caught your attention, then we know what your state of mind is!

In St. Joseph's Convent, Kalimpong, a Catholic school for girls, run by the Sisters of St Joseph of Cluny, we lived to eat! It's not like we were not fed. We were!!! Four times a day:
07:30am- Breakfast
11:25am- Lunch
03:30pm- Tea & Snacks
07:30pm- Supper

Yet the wave of gluttony was never satiated. The sly geniuses that we were, we had perfected the act of smuggling  food  through the mesh, which encompassed the border of the school compound. Whatever time of the day, If opportunity found us or be found, we indulged in that particular "sin" with no second thought. The Boxie Bhaiya (the only Male,the girls looked forward to every day ) with his box of  heart-burn inducing( and sometimes the Diarrhea causing) goodies  with a very questionable hygiene,was too tempting to resist. He must have made a small fortune and is probably retired to his new three-storied mansion by now. I highly doubt he consumes his own creative culinary  (mis)offerings.

Coming to the Wet Stuff..., both origin and intent of the words evade me.
For us, those two words combined were the equivalent of  the "happily-ever-after" fairy-tale. Although we referred to food as  the Wet Stuff , not every edible was called hither.The Wet Stuff menu was short and comprised of :
Momo
Alu-Thukpa
Phambi
Shya-Phale
Alu-Phale
Lay-Phing
Shapta
Ting-mo
Tai-po
Fried Rice
Chowmein
etc....
(If you are a Josephite, you are probably salivating right now)

And this was how it worked: We would coerce enough "pocket money" from our parents after the holidays.We weren't allowed to keep any money... But have you ever heard of Obedient Girls in Catholic School? If you have,It definitely did not include us! Anyway, we always had a good and close day-scholar friend or two(or more...) who lived in or about the town. And so ,after a thoroughly debated menu ,the math (including the carrier's commission) was done and the funds provided (in accordance to quantity of consumption) began the long and trying process of waiting . What happened after that or how the accomplice procured the objects of our affection, didn't really matter as long as they were delivered . The smuggling of the prohibited food into the school premises were performed skillfully, without creating much chaos or suspicion.(except on those few occasions when the strong and delicious aroma of food would make a few authoritarian eyebrows rise ; And like bloodhounds ,they would track down the smell and apprehend the guilty. But that rarely happened)

The bliss and satisfaction that we got by consuming those items, is vocabularily indescribable. You should see the size most of us were, back in school. We ate like there was no tomorrow! We ate like we had been starving for years! We ate like someone had paid us to eat! We were a bunch of greedy, ravening, gormandizing stomachs and all we cared about was, what to eat the following day!

I guess all of us have grown up now and left those barbaric, swinish days behind; But even today, to mention "Wet Stuff" to a Josephite would be like Pavlov ringing his godforsaken bell much to the disappointment of the dogs! Therefore, I think I speak for all my girls when I say; Our first Love will always be The Wet Stuff.

Infinite Reverie

So, another cigarette burns on my fingers,
An Infinite Reverie;
Slow & Solemn,
The Memory Lingers...

God is NOWHERE...no, not NOW! NO-WHERE....get it??? NO-WHERE!!!

We, foolish humans have unwanted desires...That's a basic fact and once you know it, you don't become the "Enlightened One" instead, It makes you just the opposite...Intolerant!!! Of course we have desires that may seem unwanted and lavish...Hello??? WE ARE HUMANS! Isn't that an excuse for the lives we lead?

Humans...Born to make mistakes and all that shit! Some times these things annoy the crap out of me! See, I am a pretty tolerant person and on a normal day, I can endure to sit next to a pious old man/woman and hear stories about how God is the sole authority and how we are nothing but mere souls, sent here for a while and that we have a better life waiting for us after we die....

Fact 1: I am an Atheist, Therefore, I have a dominant problem when people feed me crap like that. However, I am not a rebellious raging teenager that I'd join anti-christ cults and occult groups....Nor will I dress in black and wear weird make-up!!!! Like I said, I can endure that shit...What really pisses me off is the fact that I have been nourished and fattened with this paltry fact from the time I was born, that the thought about a "Higher Authority" has been tattooed in my head. It pisses me off cos people relate everything to God; Like how he has a hand in everything, especially RELATIONSHIPS & LOVE!!!!...I mean If God really loved the world, why did he sent us to earth??? And what's this whole shit about leading a "Good Life" now so that we can have a better world when we die??? God's testing us? Why would he want to test us If he loved us? Would you put somebody you loved in a maze filled with glittering temptations and test him/her??? And If we're so sure about this so-damn-fucking-next-life...Why can't we all kill ourselves and pass onto the next world???

Fact 2: When you start reading the stuff that you're not supposed to at an early age; Hang out with people you're not supposed to; Eat/Drink things that you're not supposed to...You begin to wander & wonder! Yes, You begin to look around and ask questions....question the faith, question beliefs & question your very own existence! After a quarter of existence in this planet, I began questioning. The funny thing was, no one really had the answers and It all came down to "God knows what is best for you." & "God works in strange ways" and "God is silent because he is listening"...REALLY??? Okay, so God, If you're listening, I want to know why did you let the earthquake in Haiti affect three million people? or wait, Why did you let Hitler and crew persecute the Jews??? or Why did you let so many innocent Japanese die on August 6th, 1947??? Cos honestly speaking, If you could tear the clouds open and part the Red Sea like in the Bible, I think you couldn't have had a better timing than on the days of such catastrophes, to do the same....

Fact 3: Things DON'T happen for a reason. It happens because you want it to or someone else wants it to! It's as simple as that. You love a person, It's your call. He loves you too, His call....He decides to love another person(It's still his call!!!) God has nothing to do with this! God has nothing to do with the fact that you're crying on your bed, heartbroken and hurt, with your own breath choking you and you don't know If It's okay to take the air in and breathe or hold your breath; Both ways you're gonna choke and honey, Both ways, you're fucked!

I wrote this blog cos I was sick and tired of people complaining about God and how cruel he can be cos often enough when you're wailing there with a broken heart, he's turning a deaf ear! Relationships happen cos we want them to. We love people and things happen because we want them to and some times people don't love you or they exploit you, only because they can! Simple as that. God doesn't make them do it! We're humans, remember???

So don't stay there crying on your bed cos he's going to meet his other girlfriend after he made love to you. He's doing it because he can and you're crying because you can...God has absolutely nothing to do with it! I don't mean to be indifferent and cold because I know what pain is and It hurts because that's just the way Life is. Don't look for reasons and explanations, especially when it comes to Love. Trust me, there are none!

......I may sound a bit crude and diabolical but I am going to say it anyway....If you're so depressed and feel like you just want to cease to exist, go ahead and kill yourself. I don't mean to encourage suicide...I am only saying, I won't call you a coward or a retard If you do it. If you still believe God works in strange ways and he has a hand in all of this, then well, I guess I gotta agree with the KING (Stephen King) and say, "God is cruel...Some times he lets you live...."