THE little GREASE STAIN

Grease on a wall. Oppressive dark furniture in a semi-lit room. Endless abyss of idle time. An active mind. Madness. That's how the story began and ended. She was a neat freak and there was this annoying little greasy stain on the otherwise spotless wall. She spotted it for the first time, when she was watching tv one afternoon in that depressing little living room of hers, with its oppressive dark colored furniture. The blinds were drawn and the only light was from the TV screen.

She hated the mid-day television soaps, but still could not resist watching them. Why? Because there was nothing else to do. "Well, its upto you how you use your time..", her friends and family would tell her.... The grease stain drew her attention again.. Did she imagine it, it seemed to have spread a little, increased in size by an inch. To be fair, she had been looking for work and catching up on reading for the first 6 months. But then, reading is fun, only when you steal time away from other things to do it, not when its the only thing you have been doing for 6 months. So, she tried writing. The grease stain again... Why would it not come off? She made a mental note to try that new stain remover she had seen on the commercial. She picked up her laptop to read reviews on the new stain remover.

About the writing, yeah, she wrote about 2-3 blogs and ran out of things to say. She was brimming with this capacity to say things beautifully, but then, what could she write about? Almost anything she said seemed to be stolen from those damned television programs or the books she read. Hmmm... She couldn't wait to try the new stain remover...

Next day, same time, same show, the stain remover had been ineffective. The grease stain had spread more. Maybe she should do what mom always does to get rid of stain on the wall. Why had she not tried that? Ever since the writing attempt had failed, she had pretty much given up trying, life was a routine, so much so she could get all her house chores done at an amazing speed. She even knew the precise second when the postman would walk up the steps and drop off the mail. Stain! Stain! Go Away... The new stain remover had been a bad idea...

Well, mom's method had not been effective either. How about repainting the wall eh? Hmmm, that will keep me occupied for a couple of days.. Or maybe just painting over the stain?

Hmmm.... that looks neat... Damn! I missed a spot. A big spot in fact! Mission: Repaint tomorrow...

Mission Fail: One more spot...

And so the stain engulfed her... There remained an empty semi-lit room with TV on low volume and oppressive dark furniture as she mutated into an obsessive being with 8 large tentacles, and sprawled up the wall, chasing and examining the ever moving and resilient grease stain....

Uncensored Ramblings

Reading a book by an author that I used to love as a child awakened something in me. Something so strong, that I had to put the book down and start blogging(rambling) immediately. A feeling that I am sure is shared by many, but so difficult to put down in words. A sense of pride, belonging, nostalgia, good memories, freedom, happiness and a mixture of all the good things in life. It is something that you miss; something that you want to talk about; something that makes you check if your best friend of 19 years is still online...

A something that is definitely hard to describe.. It reminds me of the soft chuckles at the back of my parent's car (reading a PG Wodehouse), the times that I sat huddled on a couch burning the midnight oil during the holidays, the voracious reading sprees(4-5 books in a week), the unending debate about who the best character in Gone With the Wind is, repeating word for word the famous conversation between Yossarin and Doc Daneeka in Catch-22, the time I read Atlas Shrugged around the same time my friend was and discussing the book every morning, lunch and coffee break, the 2 thick volumes of Leo Tolstoy mum bought me when I set out into the big bad world for the first time ;), lying alongside my grandfather as a kid, each lost in his/her own Hitchcock :), the several trips to the library with my mom endlessly arguing as to whose turn it was to pick a book of her choice...

Book are fun, books are your best friends as someone rightly said, but books to me are also treasured memories... of wonderful times I spent with people I value and love.

P.S: The weird thing is a roaring Bertie and Jeeves combo inspired me to ramble on so....

For the Heck of It...

Of late, I happen to have a lot of time on my hands.... People want to know why the avid reader, the English teacher's pet who can reel off those applaudable one-liners, doesn't blog. In my defense, it is not laziness as widely perceived..It is merely a lack of good ideas to blog on or about...Not that I lead an uneventful life, though it is way less exciting enough to hold a third person's interest than it was a few months back.What can I blog about?

I could talk about all my deepest passions(books, music, chennai....) in great detail.But, the first few people to read this blog have already heard all about that from me. So, its not going to interest them. I'd rather not say anything here than repeat myself.

I could write about all the funny things that happened back in college and school when I get nostalgic.This would again interest only those who witnessed the happenings or were part of it... I am not going to impress or draw new readers...

When I started this blog, I expected to rave and rant about my job and my boss. I never got to do it then, and have no need or desire to do it now. So, thats out...

Finally, when I do think of something to blog about, I get so excited about it that, words fly around in my head, thoughts overflow and jump from topic to topic, and before I can switch my laptop on and the lazy darling is ready to get to work, I have forgotten what I wanted to focus on...

And when I do finally somehow gain focus and write something down, the ruthless critic in me trashes the text... She tears the paras and sentences and words apart and has a cruel comment on almost every letter, every space and every punctuation I put in there...And the meek writer in me decides this wasn't worth writing, leave alone publishing....

The reader always reigns over the writer...

When I started writing this blog, I went through the same old dilemna... But this time... What the heck!!! I am going to publish it... And here is my blog... Just for the "Heck of it!"

The Midnight Encounter

There was a power blackout. It was 2 in the night! There was total darkness... And complete silence.. I woke up because the fan stopped running..And there was no air circulation in the room....

That was when I heard the sound of his feet in kitchen.... As shivers ran down my spine.. I was suddenly wide awake...What was happening... What was he doing in the kitchen??? In a total frenzy by now.... Thinking fast... It would be safer to stay in the room than to venture out in the dark and face him....The little thief... But what if he came into the room???? What was I going to do now???? After worrying for a few minutes, I decided to face him... Brave! Aren't I?

So, I groped in the dark for the torch... I found it and crept stealthily into the kitchen... I waited for a few seconds for him to move... After what felt like ages, he moved slightly.. My ears perked up and I turned and shone my torch on him.... He was too shocked to react... Frozen he glared at me... I glared back... That was when I realised, he wasn't alone... My anger rose!!!!

It was time to act.... I picked up the bottle of baygon spray near my hand and sprayed it right into his face.... The 2 thieves scuttered around a bit... And then fell to the floor.... It was then that I mercilessly squashed both of them with my feet.. The bloody cockroaches.....

I went back to sleep in peace....

The Colleague on Chennai Express

One another of the funny scary events on one of my weekly trips to Chennai.... After a 3 hour long wait for the 10 O'Clock Chennai train, the train slowly chugged into the platform at 12 in the night. I sleepily dragged myself into the train, only to find that I had been assigned the last Side-Upper berth close to the loo... Sleep overrode any feeling at that point of time.. I hoisted myself on to the berth and immediately went to sleep... Half an hour later, sub consciously, remembering that the TTR hadn't come ticket checking yet, I opened my eyes only to find someone peering into my face in the dark... I was suddenly wide awake. To my relief, it was a colleague I had never spoken to...

"Idu S11 dane?", he asked me. "Amam", and I went back to sleep.A few hours later, I felt someone tugging at me.. I woke up again with a start. This time it was no colleague.. It was chain snatcher, trying to steal the gold chain I wore around my neck... I got up and screamed.. Before I could even focus clearly and do something, he had fled into the next coach... I screamed again after him... To my embarrassment, no one in the whole compartment woke up, except my colleague... I stared at him for a moment in the dark and went back to sleep again... Saw him doing the same out of the corner of my eye....

The next day morning, when we were close to the station, I slipped out of my berth to find the colleague sitting below.. I sat next to him and religiously avoided eye contact for some time...
Some time later, I turned to him and asked him "Do you work in Philips?".
He says, "Yes". Silence.
Again, "Did you scream last night?".
"Yes, I did". And I turned away.
After some moments of silence, "Actually, Someone was trying to snatch my chain."
"Oh. I see." He gave me a look. Obviously, he thought I was crazy, with my monosyllable answers and late explanations, he must have thought, I was making up the reason for screaming the previous night.

When the train stopped at the station, he fled without even as much as a goodbye.

Monday morning in office, I chanced upon him in the cafeteria... He smiled and waved at me and asked me,"Are you alright now?"

??!!@!!!!???!??!!@##@#?!?!?

Rain Drops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens......

The small and beautiful, sometimes kiddish things in life that give immense happiness.....

A silent walk with your best friend down a flower littered, silent road in the evening,
Sitting on the shore of the beach, holding hands with the person you love, watching the waves,
Waking up in the middle of the night thinking its time to get to work, but finding you can catch up on a few more hours of sleep,
Receiving a bouquet of flowers from your fiance at 12 in the midnight on Valentine's Day,
Getting off in the railway station in the wee hours in the morning and finding your dad waiting there for you,
A sleepy irresponsible Sunday morning,
Luxury of listening to AR 5 hours in a day,
Finding that book you have always wanted to get your hands on after a long time and getting to read it the same day,
A night on a moonlit terrace, surrounded by the 10 other people I shared a house with, and finally,
Blogging when listening to some soul wrenching AR....

PS: For those who didn't catch on to the title, its a Song from Sound of Music, titled "These are a few of my Favourite Things".

The Man in My Life

For those who know me well and have heard me claim for the past 6 years of my life that I somehow seem to be romantically challenged, this topic might come as a bit of a shock!!! Its quite strange that I should think of HIM in the middle of the night as I listen to some Illayaraja music on TV! But then, who else could I think of....
He is the one
- who patiently hears me out when I want to crib after a hard day at work,
- who turns up at weird hours in the mornings and nights to safely escort me home, without my ever asking for it,
- who glared guys down if they were found anywhere in my vicinity in a crowded bus,
- who gifted me my first mobile phone,
- who gives in to all my silly tantrums and fulfills all my unreasonable demands,
- who sits on my bed admiring me sleep
- who is always on my side in any argument irrespective of whether he knows what the argument is about or not
- whose hands I proudly cling on to wherever we go
- whose hands held my little fingers when I was a kid and taught me how to walk
- whose hands firmly led me through life
- whose patience and presence in my life has made me what I am today
- who taught me honesty and principles
- whom I shall look up to every day of my life

Yes, I am talking about my father, My Hero,the Man in my life and the benchmark by which I shall measure every other man I know.