The sound of Music

I’m a split personality – I mean for two years I lived in a neighbourhood where bikers zoomed in and out even at 3 in the morning. I have never loved living anywhere as much as I loved that dwelling. At the same time, I watch television on mute because I can’t bear the noise.  Same goes for music – sometimes I just want to go on a drive, stare into the horizon and get lost in my thoughts without the songs. When I’m cooking, I can’t move a spatula without singing. Does that happen to you - mood swings when it comes to sounds?

As a child, I use to know my dad was coming because he used to blow a horn 200meters away at a turn. Really, no matter what I was doing I use to know. When my neighbours who live one floor below me fight, I can hear every word through the floor. The tub in my house makes a weird sound every now and then, I almost immediately know it. Are you this sensitive to sounds as well?

When I want to sleep, the tick-tock drives me crazy! I don’t have a clock in my house for the same reason. I take out the battery of the wall clock if I’m sleeping in someone else’s house! The spin cycle of the washing machine, the cacophony of a drilling machine, the bang of a hammer – all annoy me to no end.

Techno music disturbs me – the ‘songs’ with no lyrics type. I can’t listen to Yanni or Robert Miles, I need good lyrics to support the tune. Otherwise, I lose interest. Over the years a few songs have touched my heart and I can listen to them on repeat. Some songs have special significance, some have memories attached. You do too, don’t you?

I was in class 1 when we sung Doe a Deer on stage. It’s one of my favourite songs and I jump if I hear it from a distance. We changed the lyrics of Purani Jeans when we were in class 9 and sung it on Teachers day – the memories are so fresh; the song blows my mind away. Whenever I’m down, I need to listen to Hero by Mariah Carrey or Ye Hosla from the movie Dor – they are so inspiring. Ik Onkar and the Gayatri Matra  bring peace that is beyond words.  

Pehla Nasha, Gazab ka hai Din and Nothing at All are my all-time romantic favourites. I can’t listen to them without smiling or humming along. It must have been love has been the only song that made me cry in front of a person. He was an acquaintance and got worried. I had no clue that I had tears in my eyes – the song was so apt for that phase.Every Breath you take,  With or without you, Right here waiting for you – ah, there are so many lovely songs.

And then there are these songs that I keep singing out of nowhere. Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gam – yes, for God knows what reason I sing this song a lot. Same goes for Ruth ke Hamse kabhi from Jo Jeeta wohi Sikander – I keep humming it without knowing why. Mum use to play old songs on the radio – every now and then I find myself singing a Hindi song from the black and white era and leave the Boy amused! 

There are a couple of songs that embarrass me as well - the two with my name in it and how people tend to stress on the name - Jaane Jaan, O meri Jaane Jaa and Pehla pehla Pyaar hai. There are songs that revive memories including the soundtrack from the first favourite sitcom FRIENDS, the first favourite ghazal - Hosh Waalon ko Khabar, two of the first English tracks I heard - Wake me up before you go go and Mamma Mia and how can I forget Mere Rang mein from Maine Pyaar Kiya that introduced me to love. 

Don't think I'm the types who believes only old songs are good. I'm a big fan of I'm sexy and I know it , Rolling in the Deep and Sexy Bitch (it's my ringtone, yes it is!!). Ok let it be, they don't fit in here and sound awesome only after a couple of shots!

Of all the music, songs, sounds, chirps, honks, noise… you know what sound I like best? The sound of laughter. The giggle of a baby, the chuckle of a parent, and the uncontrollable mirth between friends – these are the sounds that I can’t live without. Neither should you.

The Dilemma

A couple of days back, Roshan shared my post on Facebook. I subsequently had a panic attack and indirectly asked him to take it down. In between, I had my moments of self doubt and contemplation.

I started this blog six years back. I had no clue where it will go. I think I did put a link on Orkut for a few weeks before really understanding what I was doing. I reviewed books and movies, spoke about my friends and just gave general opinion on everything and anything that my heart felt deeply about. It was not an intellectual blog where I would talk about politics and economy. I am an Economics/Finance student and can easily chat about the GDP, PE ratio and the stuff that drives the world bonkers. But my blog reflected feelings more than the anything else. Why? – It just happened like that.

A few months back, my blog entered the big bad world of contests. To my surprise, I won a couple of competitions and so, felt obligated to explore my creativity. Frankly, I enjoy it. Blogging would have been a useless exercise if we didn’t achieve anything out of it. But in the process, I realised I was letting go of my privacy. This blog was no more sacred; more people were reading it and judging me.

I took down quite a few posts – the ones I felt were too close to my heart. Before, only my close friends and family members read this blog. And probably a few more people. I actually wanted them to read.  Now, I had no control over my readership and why should I? In the era of Indivine and 50+ comments on most blog posts, should I leave Teeth that Sparkle unnoticed?

I know it is a personal choice. Whether I want to follow the Billboard rule that says not to write anything on the internet that you don’t want to share or I want to pour my heart out on this space. This bring me to another question – why do I need a place like this to talk about my ‘feelings’ when I have an amazing real-life support system?

Some people have such silly problems, I tell you! Maybe I’ll start a blog called Batteessee and anonymously talk about what I realllyyyy want to say. But then, what will I discuss here – things about Manmohan Singh, Sanjay Dutt and Rajat Gupta? Nah, that would be so boring!

This post doesn’t solve the issue, does it? I guess I’ll wait for myself to become more famous before I reveal this space to more people! Till then, I’ll bore you with heart-to-heart conversations. And in the process, if someone who is not allowed to read comes here, I have a feeling I’ll be relived more than scared. 

I can see a crack in the shell; I must be growing up :)

Black Friday

Ajmera was outside BSE when he narrowly escaped the blasts. Since then, he has undergone 40 surgeries. Even now, his right hand pains and some pieces of glass still remain in his body. After 20 years, he’s still fighting for the meagre compensation of Rs. 25000 that the government had promised. He has spent over Rs. 20 lakh for his treatment borrowing money from family and friends.

Gilajit Singh, a sandwich seller with a paltry income has got 120 stitches on his left leg. There were 12 blasts in the city on that fateful Friday; 257 people were killed or missing and 713 were injured.

Vinayak lost his 11-year old brother and 19-year old sister. He was 14. They were waiting for their school bus when the blast happened at Century Bazaar. The body of the brother was recognised from the shorts that he was wearing. The sister had a previous wound on her foot that helped the family recognise her body.

These are only 3 stories. There are a thousand more. These blasts happened because humanity doesn’t exist in some hearts. Some accused carried on these blasts. Others were their allies. Sanjay Dutt was one of the aids who agreed to keep arms in his house for the ‘safety’ of the masterminds and people of their community.

Why should he be pardoned? If he was indeed a good soul, he would go to jail and finish his sentence. If he really was repenting, he would set an example for the entire nation. Five-year imprisonment is nothing when you compare it with the agony of those who suffered because of the blasts. 

By supporting a person who agreed to help the terrorists, you are being a criminal yourself. By questioning our judicial system, you are making a mockery of our law-makers. If he is being pardoned, then maybe, the others have held puppies as well; why give death sentence to them? Maybe Dawood Ibrahim has adopted a charity, lets go and hug him as well.

I don’t understand the kind of fan following our nation has. Shameful, really shameful.

Links: One, Two, Three

From Blunt to Bob to Braid - The tale of my Mane!

Disclaimer 

Parents: To avoid indefinite visits to the Salon, parental guidance is advised for your kids when reading the following post.

Kids: Go ahead, keep Fevicol and Gum ready and be naughty :)

Unless you belong to a Punjabi clan, it’s hard to have long lustrous hair as a kid. You know, mums get the pretty tresses trimmed because of various reasons:

• Less hair, less lice, less trauma
• Short hair, quick fixes, late riser
• Shorter hair, lesser hair pulling between siblings

Image 1 - Ah, the ordeal mothers have to go through. No gain, without pain?

For these reasons and more, my adorable mother took me to the Salon every 3 months and kept my hair swinging only till my shoulders -  Blunt cut – as they proudly called it! The Salon girls giggled and gossiped. They spoke about the neighborhood damsels and their boyfriends at length. There was something funny about the whole beauty parlour experience and the camaraderie. My tiny brains couldn’t understand anything and so I just concentrated on the wigs that lay around.

I had read Rapunzel; I had seen how Cinderella was prettier because of her hair; I was sure Little Red Riding Hood had oodles of noodles beneath her little red cap. Then there was ‘I dream of Genie’ -  I hadn’t seen anyone more adorable than the lady with a braid around her ponytail! 

Image 2 - Rapunzel was so fascinating!

Image 3 - My all-time favorite braid :)

At school, Manpreet and Jassi spoke endlessly about their long locks. I felt jealous to hear them tell about the pampering they got from their grand mothers. Jassi's granny gave her a head massage followed by an egg pack. She then shampooed her hair with imported shampoo. Now I didn't had the patience to sit through all that, but I still felt envious! My 2-minute self-shampoo routine seemed like a sad affair.

The fascination with long hair didn’t end there. Mum use to knit sweaters during the winter season. The ladies would sit on the terrace and knit. I loved the chatter and the excess of Vitamin D never bothered us. Tanning was never an issue and we had no clue about the Ultra Violet rays. Ah, simpler times! Anyway, I use to gather left over wool and craft my own braid. I had seen enough shows on DoorDarshan to know how to use the chipkana waala padarth effectively!

One day I was busy making a very thick braid with wool. Suddenly I concocted an incredible idea. I stuck the braid to my own mane with glue. It was hard, but I knew Fevicol will not give up easily. Finally, I thought, I looked prettier than the Manpreets and Jassis of the world! I twisted and turned and looked at myself in the mirror a million times. I planned to get my Barbie and Ken married the next week so that I can  flaunt my invention in the grand Baraat.

Image 5: How can you resist braiding these?

Image 6: And that's how it's done...

What followed next would have landed me in the ICU if I had a Hitler for a mom. In my attempt to pull out the wool, I tangled my hair further. When I could not release my hair or bury myself in the earth, I went crying to mom. She took me to the Salon and then, and then, I met Bob cut. The ends were awesome, but it was bob, BOB cut!

I hated Blunt and Bob, I desperately wanted a long Braid. After a few months when the whole world forgot about my tryst with the glue, I asked an aunty who lived next-door to lend me a braid with a Parandi. She was a darling who loved kids. She thought I would play with it and return it like it was. 

Some aunties are so naive, I tell you.

I had a brilliant idea of replacing fevicol with chewing gum. If I can stick gum behind the sofa and pluck it out when no one's watching, it could leave my hair scott free as well. I chewed five Chiclets, the ones that came in a yellow pack, and stuck them diligently on my hair. The braid with the parandi fitted like a charm and I was on seventh heaven.

Image 7: Have short hair and miss using these? 

This time, my ordeal introduced me to Mushroom cut! My mom wasn't in the favour of me having long hair, but she sure was experimental with shorter versions of it. But this time she told me that if I didn’t stick anything to my perfect ends, she will let me grow my hair. 

This was the last time I had short hair. After this, there was no looking back :)

And voila, after a year, my hair started growing beyond my shoulders. It was not insanely long like Manpreet, but it was long enough to braid it the way I liked.It was a slow and steady victory, but I had learnt my lesson well: if you want something badly, the whole universe conspires you to have it.

This is Manpreet's braid probably, mine was a tad shorter but had equally sharp ends :)

Since I was so passionate about my hair, I took special care and it went on to become lustrous. It also got the pampering it deserved from both my mother and grandmother. My braids were strong and had beautiful ends.

When I was in college and needed no one’s approval to change my hairstyle, I was introduced to Layers. Long tresses gave me the advantage of giving it any shape without any difficulty. 

Bob and blunt were fine, but braiding gave my hair the strength they needed. And with products like the new Dove rescue system, the ends are always perfect. I’m glad I fought for the future of my hair. Now, I keep changing their length; without the glue, mind you! And guess what - my Mother loves my hair more than me :)

They will pull them, tangle them, cut them,

Your girls will stick their locks together without a clue.

But dear Mother, don’t bother,

It’s part of growing up. Someday, you’ll love the memories too.

Use bobby pins, floral bands and satin ribbons,

Hats, scarfs, and your chiffon dupatta too.

Adorn their Braids, be their aid,

These girls want to grow up just like you!

Beautiful ends is a blessing, so let them nurture their hair,

Put egg packs, give them oil massage, pamper their mane with shampoo too.

The pretty lasses adore their tresses,

When they grow up, don’t worry, they will have Dove to their Rescue!

This post is a part of the Dove Split End Rescue System's Beautiful Ends to Your Beautiful Braids contest in association with Indiblogger.

The Dove Split End Rescue System has ¼ moisturising milk that nourishes your hair and its breakthrough split-end technology corrects hair damage to give you up to 4x less split-ends.For useful tips on hair care, Dove has compiled the following pages:

All's well that ends well

Beautiful ends for beautiful Braids

Care and Repair

Image credits: 1,2, 5, 6, 7

Happy Teeth!

Whatever we do, we aim for happiness. Whether it’s cooking a meal for family, going to office, calling friends, heck, brushing our teeth! I’ve never seen someone do something to become sad. The end result is not in our hands, but our endeavors always seek a state of complete bliss. 

What are the things that made you happy recently? I picked up this idea from here, and completely loved thinking about the stuff that made me glad: 

1. The two short story ideas were selected by Indiblogger and Harper Collins. There are 250 contestants. The competition is fierce. Each blogger is better than the other. My friend R encouraged me by saying that whatever happens, in the end there will be two stories. Yes, the journey could be more important than the destination. I love it so far. 

2. One day I woke up and pledged to go to the gym for 4 continuous weeks, including weekends. Today is day 12. I haven’t missed a single day and I just love the feeling. Now I’m not some idiot obsessed with 26-34-26. I have peculiar health issues for which I keep trying new things. What may seem like a bed of roses to some is a tough journey. I love the way I’m fighting it. If I were you, I would call me a hero of sorts! (I have a short-term, secret agenda as well. If I achieve my targets, we plan to make a big trip this year. That can change the 28-day plan to a 50-day plan. Talk about finding ways to motivate yourself!)

3. I realised that some conversations are better left halfway. There may be a million questions in your head, but it’s not important to ask everything. The most essential part of it is happiness. When you achieve that, let it go. The smile will stay with you for a long time.

4. Jeffrey Archer is my new, rediscovered love. I had read his short stories ages back. And I have this weird thing about forgetting stories. Does that happen with you? I can’t seem to remember Paan Singh Tomar as well. Anyway, every short story by Archer makes me smile. Now that’s a big deal, isn’t it?

5. I posted a picture on FB and an uncle who rarely comments said that I looked like a doll. Ageing gracefully, eh? Wouldn’t that make you glad?

The After effects

It was 11:55 p.m. on 14th February 2013. We were at a restaurant having sumptuous dinner. Wine was on the house. We were with a few friends laughing out loud and listening to the band that was playing romantic numbers.

M, a Valentine Day fan, mentioned that the day of love was about to get over.

The Boy got excited, pointed at me and exclaimed, "Ab jaa Chudail!"

Men really are dogs!!

Phases in Love II

Four and a half years back, I did a post called ‘Phases in love’. I was about to get married that time. To keep my sanity, I had kept my mind blank. I conditioned myself not to think about anything that will happen after the wedding. How love will proceed was not on my mind as well. I tried to live each day as it came. Like every individual, I was scared and had my own reasons.

Anyway, it’s time for phases in love after marriage. Except missing my family and my city, I don’t have anything to crib about. So, this is love after marriage as seen from my non-hazel colored eyes!

Phase One – Just married – It’s like cupid striking all over again. The guy will try to do everything possible to make the girl happy (including remembering dates!). The new bride blushes at every given opportunity (and the recent attack of facials give an extra glow. Not to forget, the shiny hormones give an added lift *winks*). Everything glitters, from new clothes to new jewelery to new home. The guy licks his fingers whenever the girl cooks anything. Anything. The girl puts on make-up whenever the guy is around. It’s one of the best and most romantic phase of life.

Phase two – a few months into the marriage – issues start cropping up. This phase is very difficult since the couple starts to see negative qualities in each other. The lover turns into a husband/wife and the seriousness of living together dawns on you. The guy broods over the map shaped chapati and the girl starts to dislike the guy’s friends. Let’s-go-wherever-you-want-honey transforms into I-don’t-like-sushi-I-want-my-tandoori-chicken-bi*&^. The story with in-laws needs another post altogether! If both are working, the once lovey dovey couple who did things for each other complains about dividing chores and how the other never helps.

Phase three – a year into the marriage – after the roller coaster ride, the couple feels a sense of accomplishment. They celebrate their love and togetherness and come in terms with the good and the bad(read: compromise). They form their own rules and learn to live in harmony (read: adjustment). They feel proud of the bond they have created and talk about how time flies. They forget how they thought about walking out of that door a couple of times during the year. 

Phase four – ab to ek saal ho gaya – this is an unending phase till you have two children. People from all quarters advice you to have kids. There are subtle hints from all and sundry, ‘enjoy your time, when you have kids you won’t party like this’. There are obvious hints from relatives, ‘next time when you meet us, we want to see three not two of you’. There are over-the-top hints from a neighbour whom you’ve never met and bump into in a supermarket, ‘not planning? Need time’? (This was meant for another post but I just couldn’t come in terms with it!!!)

Anyway, the way a couple decides about having a baby takes their relationship to another level. This is a difficult topic of discussion. And if you can bring up the subject every weekend without any tiffs, you’ve reached a level of understanding that’s rare. Congratulate yourself on building a strong foundation in the earlier phases.

Phase five – after a couple of years – If all has gone well, you become best friends in real sense of the word. The companionship is like no other. You want to explore the world with each other and grow old together. Mostly there are no banned topics. You know each other’s likes and dislikes and work on your relationship accordingly. You pick up the towel from the bed without any anger. He plays angry birds patiently when you're shopping. Minor spats on the way don’t dishearten you but make your friendship stronger. Sometimes the monotony bores you, but the warmth and togetherness steps in to ease all confusions. 

The initial phase of all love stories is the best. But when you get out of that phase and still want to be around each other – that’s real love. I’m glad I found it. I hope you did too. And if not, it’s just waiting to happen.  

Oh, the mushy mushy week!!