TAILOR OR TRAITOR?
Recent wedding in the family made all of us to make a beeline for the various tailor shops situated in and around our area. Being a readymade buff, I thought that ‘chalo’ let me try out the tailor for a change. I was taken aback when during the visit I found that I had taken a long hiatus from tailors. Everything had changed.
The tailor (let us call him T) had tossed the design book in front of us. While the teens were busy flipping thro the book, I was dumbstruck by the different kinds of neckline (plunging, U, V and some other irrelevant alphabets), sleeves, (less, more, nil), Back (plain, windows 98, 2000, vista, win32, API, crossbars, tying)
The teens went thro the back designs first. There were many like the low back with one or two hooks just enough to hold the blouse in place. This type of back left much to be desired. You blink your eyes, and you miss the two hooks.
Some cowardly females, scared to expose the no man’s land (the back I mean) go for threads running helter skelter from one part of the blouse to the other. Though you can not see the back fully, you definitely will have a glimpse of the same.
Meanwhile, the tailor was arguing with one of the teens about how it is not advisable to wear a sleeveless, but he was ready to keep the back as low as possible, without hooks but with a tying option.
While arguments about the style were going on, I was watching the customers who were in and out of the shop. There was lot of confusion with many admonishing the tailor for his tardiness. The T was silent and was taking the shouting, yelling on his stride and promising to deliver the goods the very next day at 9 am sharp (he opens only at 10 am).
The moment the customer leaves, in goes her garment, to be taken out during her next visit.
This reminds me of one of my aunts who had a love hate relationship with the tailor. Every time he delivered the finished product, (which never turned out as per her expectations), she used to give him a piece of her mind and get it altered. She kept on grumbling till she reached home. But he was her tailor for a very long time.
The teens with lot of enthu selected some designs for their blouses and turned towards me. They said that I must go in for a mega sleeve or cap sleeves, for, this was the one event where one can showcase her beauty without being criticized. I nodded though I was a little hesitant.
After various visits to the T , the blouses were brought home. Then the ordeal of trials began. There was lot of noise about the fittings, sleeves back etc. All of them ran to the T to get it rectified. This made me jittery. Slowly I tried mine. Result?
I could not get into one of the blouses. It was struck near my elbow and I was neither able to pull it up or remove it.
I could get into the other but what did I see? The sleeves went beyond my arms and settled near my shoulder revealing my biceps with BCG mark. Bang! For the first time in my life I found out that I had biceps which was matching the likes of salman, sharukh aamir etc. I hurriedly looked at my chest to see if there were four packs too. Thank god. It was not so.
With heavy heart, I went back to the T. After altercation, he agreed for alteration. This took another day. The next day was the ‘D’ day. I had no option but to wear whatever he called it as blouse. Though it turned out to be somewhat better, I vowed never to go to a tailor or at least not to that tailor. But tailors or Tailors everywhere.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Men and their (N)anga-vastras
This is exclusively for women and men who are capable of laughing at themselves
Once I had gone to my colleague’s house. While chatting I observed that she was a little grumpy ( angry is the right word). When asked, she said that the cause was her hubby. She said that she had been bombarded by uninvited guests (uninvited meant that they had no time to prepare themselves for the attack which includes dressing up decently). She was particularly cut up with her husband who ended up receiving them with his checked Lungi with partition (I gathered that the lungis are stitched together to stop them from opening up at the right moment)
She said that her husband was gleefully yapping with the guests, oblivious of the lungi occasionally flying in sync with the breeze.
Of course once they left she had admonished him but he said that he was unaware of the flying lungi.
Her contention was that how anyone can be unaware when one can feel the chill inside through the slit?
She was not talking to him for his bad behavior. (Otherwise he is a thorough gentleman)
All men are like that, at least some, I assured her. (Sorry guys)
I had an uncle who used to fold his dhoti three or four folds till it went up almost to his hips. He was gutsy enough to climb stairs, attic and what not with his sad attire. God bless the people who stay put on the ground. I remember my aunt always shouting at him. Probably she was fed up with his antics.
There are others who have this habit of opening up the dhoti (a la kajol in the song mere khwabon mein jo aaye from dilwale dulhania le jayenge) and tying it back again much to the annoyance of the audience ( especially females). They do it so many times that you feel like telling them to use a belt instead
There are shirtless men (reason they say is: too sultry) with/without janivara or the sacred thread, moving unnecessarily in and out of the house. Shirtless men do not keep their hands to themselves but instead of wasting their time they pat and scratch themselves as though it is no man’s land. And to top it all, these men do all these things when they are in conversation with the others.
And then, there are these men who answer the door bell first with their shortest outfit (may be a brief) and then run inside to wear something decent.
I have seen men who are in their towels before going for a bath walking briskly attending to last minute chores like shaving. Though you might not be interested in watching them, I am sure many of us are under the constant stress/ fear that the towel may give way anytime due to the violent walkathon.
Oil massaging men get on my nerves. These types of men wear shortest possible outfit and massage their bodies and roam around for long hours for better effect of the massage.
I can go on and on about men and their antics but let me stop before any lungi-man comes charging at me.
Once I had gone to my colleague’s house. While chatting I observed that she was a little grumpy ( angry is the right word). When asked, she said that the cause was her hubby. She said that she had been bombarded by uninvited guests (uninvited meant that they had no time to prepare themselves for the attack which includes dressing up decently). She was particularly cut up with her husband who ended up receiving them with his checked Lungi with partition (I gathered that the lungis are stitched together to stop them from opening up at the right moment)
She said that her husband was gleefully yapping with the guests, oblivious of the lungi occasionally flying in sync with the breeze.
Of course once they left she had admonished him but he said that he was unaware of the flying lungi.
Her contention was that how anyone can be unaware when one can feel the chill inside through the slit?
She was not talking to him for his bad behavior. (Otherwise he is a thorough gentleman)
All men are like that, at least some, I assured her. (Sorry guys)
I had an uncle who used to fold his dhoti three or four folds till it went up almost to his hips. He was gutsy enough to climb stairs, attic and what not with his sad attire. God bless the people who stay put on the ground. I remember my aunt always shouting at him. Probably she was fed up with his antics.
There are others who have this habit of opening up the dhoti (a la kajol in the song mere khwabon mein jo aaye from dilwale dulhania le jayenge) and tying it back again much to the annoyance of the audience ( especially females). They do it so many times that you feel like telling them to use a belt instead
There are shirtless men (reason they say is: too sultry) with/without janivara or the sacred thread, moving unnecessarily in and out of the house. Shirtless men do not keep their hands to themselves but instead of wasting their time they pat and scratch themselves as though it is no man’s land. And to top it all, these men do all these things when they are in conversation with the others.
And then, there are these men who answer the door bell first with their shortest outfit (may be a brief) and then run inside to wear something decent.
I have seen men who are in their towels before going for a bath walking briskly attending to last minute chores like shaving. Though you might not be interested in watching them, I am sure many of us are under the constant stress/ fear that the towel may give way anytime due to the violent walkathon.
Oil massaging men get on my nerves. These types of men wear shortest possible outfit and massage their bodies and roam around for long hours for better effect of the massage.
I can go on and on about men and their antics but let me stop before any lungi-man comes charging at me.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Dusshera Debacle
We were living in Malleswaram where dusshera was celebrated by inviting each other for “arishina kumkuma”, the ordeal where women get in and out of houses of all and sundry. (known and unknown).
We as children used to accompany our moms like herds of sheep just for the sake of “charpu” which some kanjoos aunties used to give us.
Here I must tell you the items which come under the category of charpu.
1. Gugguri or sundal ( made out of various dhals)
2. Very tiny(minute to be precise) elakki balehannu which had turned black, presumably the ones which they got the previous day
3. Kobbari sakkare which consists of more sugar ( bought from ration shop) than kobbari
4. Shrunken mosambi which has turned into the size of lemon( reserved for youngsters like us)
5. Shankarpoli ( I don’t understand why it has been named thus. poor shankars)
6. One aunty had even passed off unbreakable mysorepaks as charpu
We were also given the responsibility of inviting aunties who lived far and wide.
My sister and I proceeded on one such journey along with our neighbor’s son Ramu (she had no daughters). After inviting everyone, we were returning along with our booty and our last destination was our Hindi teacher. Since we were very tired, we kept all our valuable collections in one place and sat down. In a nano second, the teacher did something which was unpardonable in our eyes. She took all the charpus inside thinking that we had brought those things for her. (Even today I am still surprised at her dumb brain. How can she ever think that those assorted charpus along with the accompaniments of beetle leaves, beetle nuts etc can be hers?). Though she said that there was no necessity for us to bring all these items, her hands were busy emptying our baskets/butti wire bag to be precise (we had three of them mind you. No sharing, we had decided)
Though we were very upset, we could not do anything as she was our teacher. But Ramu started crying and told us that since she was our teacher and not his, he would go and get back his share. It took us a lot of time to convince and console him.
After that Ramu broke the partnership of our joint venture and joined hands with someone else who was strong enough to not let go of the booty.
We on our part decided not to take any chances and kept our baskets with collections as close to us as possible when we visited prospective invitees.
Now Ramu might be getting a two or maybe three baskets full of the booties but nothing like the old days. Where are you now Ramu?
Singing of songs was another ordeal which one had to undergo when one visits people. We could hear devotional songs/ thyagaraja krithi/purandara/kanaka or some random dasas’ kritis from neighboring houses, though I had a vague feeling that no one listened to the singer however good she was.( anyway the songs were meant for the gods, not for the ladies).
One aunty had this habit of singing the same song in all the houses for I don’t know how many years but if you calculate roughly it comes to 6750 times (9 daysX50 housesX15 years). 15 years is my guess but I don’t know how long she had been singing it before that.
All said and done, we enjoyed our childhood days irrespective of the minuses and plusses.
We as children used to accompany our moms like herds of sheep just for the sake of “charpu” which some kanjoos aunties used to give us.
Here I must tell you the items which come under the category of charpu.
1. Gugguri or sundal ( made out of various dhals)
2. Very tiny(minute to be precise) elakki balehannu which had turned black, presumably the ones which they got the previous day
3. Kobbari sakkare which consists of more sugar ( bought from ration shop) than kobbari
4. Shrunken mosambi which has turned into the size of lemon( reserved for youngsters like us)
5. Shankarpoli ( I don’t understand why it has been named thus. poor shankars)
6. One aunty had even passed off unbreakable mysorepaks as charpu
We were also given the responsibility of inviting aunties who lived far and wide.
My sister and I proceeded on one such journey along with our neighbor’s son Ramu (she had no daughters). After inviting everyone, we were returning along with our booty and our last destination was our Hindi teacher. Since we were very tired, we kept all our valuable collections in one place and sat down. In a nano second, the teacher did something which was unpardonable in our eyes. She took all the charpus inside thinking that we had brought those things for her. (Even today I am still surprised at her dumb brain. How can she ever think that those assorted charpus along with the accompaniments of beetle leaves, beetle nuts etc can be hers?). Though she said that there was no necessity for us to bring all these items, her hands were busy emptying our baskets/butti wire bag to be precise (we had three of them mind you. No sharing, we had decided)
Though we were very upset, we could not do anything as she was our teacher. But Ramu started crying and told us that since she was our teacher and not his, he would go and get back his share. It took us a lot of time to convince and console him.
After that Ramu broke the partnership of our joint venture and joined hands with someone else who was strong enough to not let go of the booty.
We on our part decided not to take any chances and kept our baskets with collections as close to us as possible when we visited prospective invitees.
Now Ramu might be getting a two or maybe three baskets full of the booties but nothing like the old days. Where are you now Ramu?
Singing of songs was another ordeal which one had to undergo when one visits people. We could hear devotional songs/ thyagaraja krithi/purandara/kanaka or some random dasas’ kritis from neighboring houses, though I had a vague feeling that no one listened to the singer however good she was.( anyway the songs were meant for the gods, not for the ladies).
One aunty had this habit of singing the same song in all the houses for I don’t know how many years but if you calculate roughly it comes to 6750 times (9 daysX50 housesX15 years). 15 years is my guess but I don’t know how long she had been singing it before that.
All said and done, we enjoyed our childhood days irrespective of the minuses and plusses.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Dog's day
Our family ( you must read it as” the whole lot of them” i.e. Sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles et al) is extremely scared of dogs especially the stray ones of all age, shape and sizes. (Pups are more dangerous says my sister)
You may ask ‘what about the pets?’ You can feel little safe with them as they are either tied or told to get inside (they seldom do) when you enter the canine lovers’ house.
I had a friend who insisted that I come home very often though I had expressed my fear of dogs. She used to tell me that her dog is very loving and will never harm anyone. whenever I went to her house I would be sitting with my heart pounding and the canine would cuddle, lick and pounce on me while her master (rather her masterni) went on and on about her pet.
My friend’s dog keeps on breathing heavily (called as deep breathing) in your ears making you very insecure of what is in store for you.
My neighbour had a pup which was named ‘shyam’ which coincidentally is my brother’s name. Whenever she called out to the pet lovingly with her sweet voice, my brother used to run. She told us that she never knew shyams were human.
Another friend of mine, who was a little concerned about me, had her bull dog always tied up. Even this never encouraged me to change my opinion of these creatures. You should not blame me for that. Whenever I visited her, the bull.. sorry, the dog always tried to pull away the chain and made all sorts of faces and would have settled scores with me for my dislike of the species.
The other day my sister and I were taking a long walk (it was indeed a long walk) and a pup started following us. My sis was very much worried and wanted to get rid of it. As she started walking very fast, the pup too increased its speed. In desperation she opened the gate of a nearby house and entered. No sooner did she do that; we heard a thunderous barking (it was a Pomeranian). Frying Pan to fire? Never. The gate was closed immediately. Pup is always better than the pom.
There is a saying that ‘Barking Dog seldom bites’. Yes it is true. How can the dog bite when it is barking? It will do so once it stops barking. Ask my cousin. He has not stopped telling his tale to one and all after being bitten by a barking dog. He grumbles that the sentence should be rephrased as ‘barking dog later bites’.
Some good Samaritans feed the strays with delicious wafers, biscuits, buns etc and it becomes very difficult for non feeders to go for walks/jogs as you will be treated as an outcast by the strays. Some of them come close to you and smell your pockets for the non existent goodies.
I had been told by good (?) friends that if you have eye to eye contact with the dog you are safe; as the dog thinks you are friendly. But there is more than the meets the eye.
I had shared this secret with my uncle and he had a horrifying experience after he followed my tips. He was scratched upon by a stray when he looked deep into his eyes.
Now some say that you should avoid the canine’s gaze and walk away as though it never exists. This has worked out for me sometimes.
You have to be very alert during ‘season’ as you can spot tens, twenties and more of the breed shouting, chasing, fighting among them and in the bargain falling all over you. I always take longer routes when I spot the batch from far.
More than humans, these species are united. Once rag picker was shouted at by a lone dog. He was unperturbed. The dog started barking so loud that his friends from the neighboring roads reached the spot within minutes and pounced on the rag picker. Poor fellow had to run for his life.
From my experience, I have zeroed in on the following precautionary measures.
Avoid eye to eye contact. ( more so if you are wearing a colored lens)
Always have some small stones with you ( you may pretend to throw)
Avoid lanes which have Bakeries
Be well acquainted with your local strays. ( You must know the character of each one of them)
Don’t travel in your two wheeler during nights ( some time days too)
Be very open with your friends ( especially the ones with pets) about your fear of dogs
You may ask ‘what about the pets?’ You can feel little safe with them as they are either tied or told to get inside (they seldom do) when you enter the canine lovers’ house.
I had a friend who insisted that I come home very often though I had expressed my fear of dogs. She used to tell me that her dog is very loving and will never harm anyone. whenever I went to her house I would be sitting with my heart pounding and the canine would cuddle, lick and pounce on me while her master (rather her masterni) went on and on about her pet.
My friend’s dog keeps on breathing heavily (called as deep breathing) in your ears making you very insecure of what is in store for you.
My neighbour had a pup which was named ‘shyam’ which coincidentally is my brother’s name. Whenever she called out to the pet lovingly with her sweet voice, my brother used to run. She told us that she never knew shyams were human.
Another friend of mine, who was a little concerned about me, had her bull dog always tied up. Even this never encouraged me to change my opinion of these creatures. You should not blame me for that. Whenever I visited her, the bull.. sorry, the dog always tried to pull away the chain and made all sorts of faces and would have settled scores with me for my dislike of the species.
The other day my sister and I were taking a long walk (it was indeed a long walk) and a pup started following us. My sis was very much worried and wanted to get rid of it. As she started walking very fast, the pup too increased its speed. In desperation she opened the gate of a nearby house and entered. No sooner did she do that; we heard a thunderous barking (it was a Pomeranian). Frying Pan to fire? Never. The gate was closed immediately. Pup is always better than the pom.
There is a saying that ‘Barking Dog seldom bites’. Yes it is true. How can the dog bite when it is barking? It will do so once it stops barking. Ask my cousin. He has not stopped telling his tale to one and all after being bitten by a barking dog. He grumbles that the sentence should be rephrased as ‘barking dog later bites’.
Some good Samaritans feed the strays with delicious wafers, biscuits, buns etc and it becomes very difficult for non feeders to go for walks/jogs as you will be treated as an outcast by the strays. Some of them come close to you and smell your pockets for the non existent goodies.
I had been told by good (?) friends that if you have eye to eye contact with the dog you are safe; as the dog thinks you are friendly. But there is more than the meets the eye.
I had shared this secret with my uncle and he had a horrifying experience after he followed my tips. He was scratched upon by a stray when he looked deep into his eyes.
Now some say that you should avoid the canine’s gaze and walk away as though it never exists. This has worked out for me sometimes.
You have to be very alert during ‘season’ as you can spot tens, twenties and more of the breed shouting, chasing, fighting among them and in the bargain falling all over you. I always take longer routes when I spot the batch from far.
More than humans, these species are united. Once rag picker was shouted at by a lone dog. He was unperturbed. The dog started barking so loud that his friends from the neighboring roads reached the spot within minutes and pounced on the rag picker. Poor fellow had to run for his life.
From my experience, I have zeroed in on the following precautionary measures.
Avoid eye to eye contact. ( more so if you are wearing a colored lens)
Always have some small stones with you ( you may pretend to throw)
Avoid lanes which have Bakeries
Be well acquainted with your local strays. ( You must know the character of each one of them)
Don’t travel in your two wheeler during nights ( some time days too)
Be very open with your friends ( especially the ones with pets) about your fear of dogs
Friday, January 11, 2008
Megha's Megas
Megha was busy multitasking her morning chores. She MUST watch her morning mega boring mega serial Kumkum at 8.30 or 9 am ( not sure of the timings). She had missed her 1 P M slot due to unavoidable gossip session on 2nd cross, 5th main's Rekha. We have all the megas running and re-running mornings/noons/eves/nights. U miss out the eve session, catch up with them in the morning or may be noon or even at night.
Her plan of action is as below.
9 am - Kumkum ( in case 1 pm slot is missed)
9.30 to 10 - Breakfast
10.30 -Kkusum ( she had seen it earlier you see)
11 am - Teen bahuraanian ( cant watch soaps at night. This is purely meant for hubby dear(HD))
11.30- Saath phere
12 noon - Bidai
12.30 PM - Maayaka
1 Pm of course for Kkusum
1.30 PM - Bhabi
2.00 pm - Karam Apna Apna - ( this will be along with the lunch)
2.30 PM - Saarthi
3 PM - Kyunki saas bhi
Here the session closes. Children will be home. She has to prepare the eve snacks.
5.30 PM - Kasturi
7 PM - Har ghar Kuch kehta hai
Curtains are drawn for the day.
Kids start watching cartoon/MTV/V channel and disinterestedly she watches those too.
But Hats off to Megha. She does her duty of catering to the needs of HD and children happily.
Dont u think her agenda is neatly chalked out?
Soaps PLUS MTV/V channel MINUS news channel is what her daily routine. Her say on news channel is that "why to waste time by watching news as the same comes to me during our gos session"
All these makes one puffing and panting for breath but not for megha. U can see her always cherubic, cheerful and energetic.
i am thinking of adding spice to my life by just watching a few soaps for a starter.
Her plan of action is as below.
9 am - Kumkum ( in case 1 pm slot is missed)
9.30 to 10 - Breakfast
10.30 -Kkusum ( she had seen it earlier you see)
11 am - Teen bahuraanian ( cant watch soaps at night. This is purely meant for hubby dear(HD))
11.30- Saath phere
12 noon - Bidai
12.30 PM - Maayaka
1 Pm of course for Kkusum
1.30 PM - Bhabi
2.00 pm - Karam Apna Apna - ( this will be along with the lunch)
2.30 PM - Saarthi
3 PM - Kyunki saas bhi
Here the session closes. Children will be home. She has to prepare the eve snacks.
5.30 PM - Kasturi
7 PM - Har ghar Kuch kehta hai
Curtains are drawn for the day.
Kids start watching cartoon/MTV/V channel and disinterestedly she watches those too.
But Hats off to Megha. She does her duty of catering to the needs of HD and children happily.
Dont u think her agenda is neatly chalked out?
Soaps PLUS MTV/V channel MINUS news channel is what her daily routine. Her say on news channel is that "why to waste time by watching news as the same comes to me during our gos session"
All these makes one puffing and panting for breath but not for megha. U can see her always cherubic, cheerful and energetic.
i am thinking of adding spice to my life by just watching a few soaps for a starter.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
travails of travel
I must share the experience of travelling by our great BMTC buses. Though the buses dont turn up in time, one is not bored of waiting( Thanks to the shelters provided/sponsored by the large hearted souls). you can spend your time by staring/ogling/commenting about passers by. After a loooooooong wait, the bus arrives at an angle of almost 180 degrees (exaggeration)carrying frustrated passengers peeping out of the doors. It is a common sight to see even the ladies hanging out of doors, windows et all. Leave this bus ( so says my instinct). Behind comes an almost empty bus and in I go. I have never seen people trying to get in to this empty bus. They prefer to hang Out ( pun intended). I take a seat. Second bus overtakes the first and now it is the turn of the IInd bus to negotiate angles.
Scenario inside the Bus- I suddenly feel a gush of odour ( bad i.e) making me almost go into a Coma. I just had to turn my head to see a lady ( sleeveless) keeping her hand on the back of the seat. I wriggle, move in front, sideways, but the lady is oblivious of my agony and is chatting away to glory. I doze off for some time and the aroma(!!) gradually decreases. The lady is gone. Hurray! I sit comfortably with a smile on my face. Scene 2. A school girl with a backpack pushing it right on my face with a compass pointing precariously in front of my eyes. God! I dont want to go blind. I push her bag and the bag ends up right on my lap. ( with a request from the girl ofcourse). Scene 3. The girl gets a seat and there goes her bag. In enters a princess of sorts and there she lands up on my shoulders making me stoop in front. ( I always end up as a bean bag when i choose to sit in the corner seat. how I love the window seats) By the time u get down making way by pushing, pulling, pinching ( only in case they dont give way) etc u r a wreck with dishelved hair crumpled dress. If u are fan of flimsy roadside sandals, forget it. U will end up with barefoot with your sandals stuck some where in the bus.
I have learnt a few lessons by travelling by these buses. pl follow these rules meticulously while travelling in these buses ( though these r tried and tested, no assurance of a safe journey)
Rule 1. wait for an empty bus ( In the process ur hair may become grey. never mind)
Rule 2. Dont get duped by seeing one or two standings. that will swell to millions
Rule 3. Always stick to window seats
Rule 4. Select the first or the second seat. pl do not try to go deeper. ( you have trouble there. Lecherous Toms falling all over you with an innocent expression written all over the face)
Rule 5. Dont share your seat ( Two by three)
Best solution. Head for a two wheeler, or a car or a tempo, lorry anything but the.......
Scenario inside the Bus- I suddenly feel a gush of odour ( bad i.e) making me almost go into a Coma. I just had to turn my head to see a lady ( sleeveless) keeping her hand on the back of the seat. I wriggle, move in front, sideways, but the lady is oblivious of my agony and is chatting away to glory. I doze off for some time and the aroma(!!) gradually decreases. The lady is gone. Hurray! I sit comfortably with a smile on my face. Scene 2. A school girl with a backpack pushing it right on my face with a compass pointing precariously in front of my eyes. God! I dont want to go blind. I push her bag and the bag ends up right on my lap. ( with a request from the girl ofcourse). Scene 3. The girl gets a seat and there goes her bag. In enters a princess of sorts and there she lands up on my shoulders making me stoop in front. ( I always end up as a bean bag when i choose to sit in the corner seat. how I love the window seats) By the time u get down making way by pushing, pulling, pinching ( only in case they dont give way) etc u r a wreck with dishelved hair crumpled dress. If u are fan of flimsy roadside sandals, forget it. U will end up with barefoot with your sandals stuck some where in the bus.
I have learnt a few lessons by travelling by these buses. pl follow these rules meticulously while travelling in these buses ( though these r tried and tested, no assurance of a safe journey)
Rule 1. wait for an empty bus ( In the process ur hair may become grey. never mind)
Rule 2. Dont get duped by seeing one or two standings. that will swell to millions
Rule 3. Always stick to window seats
Rule 4. Select the first or the second seat. pl do not try to go deeper. ( you have trouble there. Lecherous Toms falling all over you with an innocent expression written all over the face)
Rule 5. Dont share your seat ( Two by three)
Best solution. Head for a two wheeler, or a car or a tempo, lorry anything but the.......
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Friend
I had a very good friend during college days who was very bubbly, jovial, and full of life. She had a very long and luscious hair with a perfect figure to match. We shopped, hanged out, saw movies ( ofcourse by bunking classes) and did everything that a college going teen would do.
She used to ape the lecturers to perfection (Though she did get reprimanded for that. "who cares" was her motto).
we did have a daily routine of visiting each other's house and in the bargain must have shed few kilos. She was very ambitious and would dream of many things one of them was to wed a tall dark and handsome lad who would look after her like a princess.
All good things have to come to an end isnt it? Like our degree courses. I had to move on as I got a good job. She used to come home on sundays and tell us about the happenings of the week with colourful anectodes. I must tell u here that, We sisters used to laugh our guts out listening to her comical narrations. Since we had to shift to a new area I could meet her only once in two months and even this gradually reduced and I lost touch with her completely.
Years later when I met a friend of mine who resided in her area, I was shocked to find out that
her parents had passed away and her brothers cheated her of the property and got her married hurriedly to a man of their choice, who was nowhere near her dream man. ( leave alone being a good human being)
I was desperate to meet her and through a common friend met her at her house when she had delivered her second baby. Lo! where was my lovable, jovial, bubbly friend? when did her long hair turn into a handful of locks? what had happened to her shining black eyes? her smile?her tomboyishness?her infectious laughter?
She could understand all of those questions which reflected in my eyes. ( we were best of friends right?)
I was surprised by her answer. She had to say this" The man of my dream still exists. I am living with him in my dreams"
Strange are the ways of the world. How time had changed a smart, ambitious, lively girl into a bundle of flesh sans emotions.
How the paths of life change once you are out of college. How I wish I could change her life if I had a magic wand
She used to ape the lecturers to perfection (Though she did get reprimanded for that. "who cares" was her motto).
we did have a daily routine of visiting each other's house and in the bargain must have shed few kilos. She was very ambitious and would dream of many things one of them was to wed a tall dark and handsome lad who would look after her like a princess.
All good things have to come to an end isnt it? Like our degree courses. I had to move on as I got a good job. She used to come home on sundays and tell us about the happenings of the week with colourful anectodes. I must tell u here that, We sisters used to laugh our guts out listening to her comical narrations. Since we had to shift to a new area I could meet her only once in two months and even this gradually reduced and I lost touch with her completely.
Years later when I met a friend of mine who resided in her area, I was shocked to find out that
her parents had passed away and her brothers cheated her of the property and got her married hurriedly to a man of their choice, who was nowhere near her dream man. ( leave alone being a good human being)
I was desperate to meet her and through a common friend met her at her house when she had delivered her second baby. Lo! where was my lovable, jovial, bubbly friend? when did her long hair turn into a handful of locks? what had happened to her shining black eyes? her smile?her tomboyishness?her infectious laughter?
She could understand all of those questions which reflected in my eyes. ( we were best of friends right?)
I was surprised by her answer. She had to say this" The man of my dream still exists. I am living with him in my dreams"
Strange are the ways of the world. How time had changed a smart, ambitious, lively girl into a bundle of flesh sans emotions.
How the paths of life change once you are out of college. How I wish I could change her life if I had a magic wand
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