Another woman bites the dust! The assasination of Benazir Bhutto, former Prime Minister of Pakistan has again showed the stand of woman in Muslim dominated countries. Her lofty dreams of becoming a PM for the third time was nipped at the bud as death came exactly two weeks before Pakistan's January 8 parliamentary elections.
A brave woman even after the threatening attacks on her in October 18, 07 where at least 130 people were killed and hundreds were injured in Karachi by suicide bombers as Bhutto's motorcade passed, she stood valiantly for democracy. Even knowing that risks were imminent, she came out and sacrificed her life for democracy.
This tragedy could have been averted if proper security would have been given to her. It cannot be ruled out that since she was a former PM and didn't have much of a political clout now she was deprived of the much-needed security measures.She wanted to put an end to the divisions in pakistani society , including discrimination between man and woman. She even told CNN's Wolf Blitzer, in an interview that "They don't want democracy, they don't want me back, and they don't believe in women governing nations, so they will try to plot against me." Sadly she had fallen for the ploy.
Isalmic countries with Al Qaeda and Taliban in Afganistan is a bane in the name of democracy. Being a Muslim woman, staying in India, I have always enjoyed my freedom and am proud that my country provides me with that kind of a security. It's sad that women unlike me are suffering in countries, getting beaten up, no hospitals, proper food, can't go out and work to feed their children if their husbands die, remain uneducated. I would like to quote from Khaled Hosseini's "Thousand Splendid Suns' where he aptly quips about the rules enforced during the Taliban rule from 1996-2001 for women like women should stay inside their homes perpetually. If they go outside, they must be accompanied by a male relative. If they are caught wandering outside alone, they would be beaten and sent home. In no circumstance, they can show their face and should be covered with burqa when outside, again if not complying will be severely beaten. Cosmetics, charming clothes, jewellery are forbidden. Women can't speak unless spoken to, no eye contact with men. No laughing in public, no painting nails otherwise will lose a finger if caught. Girs are forbidden to attend schools. All schools for girls will be closed. Women are forbidden to work and if caught for adultery, will be stoned to death". Imagine forced into such coerced grim measures after holding high positions in the Government and going to schools and universities. How could a country progress if half of the population remains uneducated asks a character in the book.
Putting some sense in their heads pondering how much Benazirs would be sacrificed. We salute Benazir for her valour and fight for equality and democracy! May her soul rest in peace!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
December Rain
December rains contradictory to G& R November rain is just not music to anybody's souls! Atleast not mine. Bangalore weather has become such a dampener! It was freezing cold yesterday, today its raining giving us the proverbial cherry on the icing!!! It's was more of facing the 'Day of Judgement' while coming out of the quilt and bathing with the cold water at 8 in the morning. Thanks to modern technology called the 'SOLAR HEATER' which oozes out icy water in the winters and boiling water in summers that blisters your skin. It can be an object of torture for DOOMS DAY!!!
Getting late for office, down for breakfast, sum South Indian counterpart of Dosa called 'dosai' was there. Grabbed the teapot, not even one drop of tea. How much I needed that cuppa of hot sweetened tea? All i get is 'TEA ILLA'! Told the cook to prepare some, now its 'MILK ILLA'! Damn had that 'dosai delicacy' which was like paper! Switched on the TV , as usual Channel 14 VH1! Woof!! Gosh where's VH1 gone? Searched all the channels but no VH1! Feeling terrible had to settle with ZOOM deprived of James Blunt replacing with Emraan Hasmi in 'Woh Ajnabi' ! 9.15 am cab comes in anoter 10 mins. Where's the tea, I shout at the cook? 'Preparin madame' comes the prompt reply. Well by that time, I 'll miss my cab. I rush out and its raining, thought of calling some friends.
To add more fat to the fuel, I called up my friend, she was still sleeping. I called another friend even she was snoozing enjoing the weather. Hopefully they won't sue me for disturbing them in their blissful siesta! Finally I managed to board the cab. Turn on my fm and take out a book to read. Today's pick is 'Shantaram' and ironicallly Radiocity was playing ' Mausam Mastana'! Contradictory to the 'Mausam mastana' the traffic was moving at a snail's pace! Finally got to office, checked my mails and got this strong itch to write about the events a few hours back.
Though the itch remains scratched. A long day is ahead of me, hopefully things turn out to be more blissful! As Shaggy the musician says " It's hope that keeps me on"! Same goes for me!!
Getting late for office, down for breakfast, sum South Indian counterpart of Dosa called 'dosai' was there. Grabbed the teapot, not even one drop of tea. How much I needed that cuppa of hot sweetened tea? All i get is 'TEA ILLA'! Told the cook to prepare some, now its 'MILK ILLA'! Damn had that 'dosai delicacy' which was like paper! Switched on the TV , as usual Channel 14 VH1! Woof!! Gosh where's VH1 gone? Searched all the channels but no VH1! Feeling terrible had to settle with ZOOM deprived of James Blunt replacing with Emraan Hasmi in 'Woh Ajnabi' ! 9.15 am cab comes in anoter 10 mins. Where's the tea, I shout at the cook? 'Preparin madame' comes the prompt reply. Well by that time, I 'll miss my cab. I rush out and its raining, thought of calling some friends.
To add more fat to the fuel, I called up my friend, she was still sleeping. I called another friend even she was snoozing enjoing the weather. Hopefully they won't sue me for disturbing them in their blissful siesta! Finally I managed to board the cab. Turn on my fm and take out a book to read. Today's pick is 'Shantaram' and ironicallly Radiocity was playing ' Mausam Mastana'! Contradictory to the 'Mausam mastana' the traffic was moving at a snail's pace! Finally got to office, checked my mails and got this strong itch to write about the events a few hours back.
Though the itch remains scratched. A long day is ahead of me, hopefully things turn out to be more blissful! As Shaggy the musician says " It's hope that keeps me on"! Same goes for me!!
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
My attempt at poetry:
The Death of An Angel
Once in a cold evening,
I was walking all alone.
Blinded by mist and the veil of fog,
I somehow perceived a small outstretched hand
and a full voice spoke crying for help at a distance.
I sat beside the frail stranger.
Who was a minor lass covered in tattered rags.
There were drops of perspiration,
like dewdrops on her small forehead
and her swollen body was burningwith fever like hot embers in a
freshly doused fire.
With a sweet smile on her bereft face.
She asked me for some water to drink.
I went to fetch a cup of life to quench
her insatiable thirst.
But by the time I reached her.
She was gone, dead and lifeless.
My eyes shimmered with tears.
To perceive an innocent child
Die in such agony.
But than I thought why was I mourning?
As she was only a stranger of sorts.
I consoled myself by saying that,
She was gone, gone for good.
As she now could curtail the
Afflications of her weary life.
I ran, ran away from the corpse.
Than I saw a star shining in the distant sky.
And I felt that it has winked at me.
Yes, the little angel has become a star.
Which would stay eternal forever!!!!
The Death of An Angel
Once in a cold evening,
I was walking all alone.
Blinded by mist and the veil of fog,
I somehow perceived a small outstretched hand
and a full voice spoke crying for help at a distance.
I sat beside the frail stranger.
Who was a minor lass covered in tattered rags.
There were drops of perspiration,
like dewdrops on her small forehead
and her swollen body was burningwith fever like hot embers in a
freshly doused fire.
With a sweet smile on her bereft face.
She asked me for some water to drink.
I went to fetch a cup of life to quench
her insatiable thirst.
But by the time I reached her.
She was gone, dead and lifeless.
My eyes shimmered with tears.
To perceive an innocent child
Die in such agony.
But than I thought why was I mourning?
As she was only a stranger of sorts.
I consoled myself by saying that,
She was gone, gone for good.
As she now could curtail the
Afflications of her weary life.
I ran, ran away from the corpse.
Than I saw a star shining in the distant sky.
And I felt that it has winked at me.
Yes, the little angel has become a star.
Which would stay eternal forever!!!!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Orkut or not to Orkut?
Little did Orkut Büyükkökten, a Turkish software engineer who developed the social networking service called Orkut know that his independent project in Google 20 per cent will be the second most visited site in India. Though initially it was in Brazil that the popularity graph gained prominence but abuse came in the form of fake profiles and hate communities.
Recently Orkut India has been in the news for all the wrong reasons. With the kidnap and murder of 16 year old Adnan Patrawal of Mumbai, Orkut has come under the scanner making it a hotstepper in the hitlists of the rising cybercrime. Statistics with the Delhi Police say that a total of 17 cases related to hacking, obscenity, e-commerce fraud, Internet-related crimes were registered in 2006. There were 12 cases registered in 2005 indicating 42 per cent rise. It happens that 2005 almost marks the popularity of Orkut as a public forum. The news is that Adnan went to meet a girl , Angel D whom he met in Orkut. But unfortunately, his three friends abducted him and killed him for a heavy ransom.
Orkut is an addictive forum and is helping to stay in touch with long-lost buddies in a very easy and simple process. Its a piece of cake for the 'peeping Toms' as its allows an Orkut member to go to any profile and check scraps and videos and that person's friend lists. There are also communities that raise awareness and being members of it you can in fact track other friends also.
But sadly, this community is being misused, with people creating fake profiles and using it to faclitate sex trade and other murky activities. Talks have been going on to ban Orkut in India but this is not going to suffice anybody's needs. Orkut is just a drop of water in the vast ocean of Internet. If it is banned those pervs will find another site to carry on their mindless sadistic crimes.
All that is needed is to use our freedom of expression in a mature way. We need to stay vigil to shoo away all the unwanted elements that are making other innocent people suffer.
Recently Orkut India has been in the news for all the wrong reasons. With the kidnap and murder of 16 year old Adnan Patrawal of Mumbai, Orkut has come under the scanner making it a hotstepper in the hitlists of the rising cybercrime. Statistics with the Delhi Police say that a total of 17 cases related to hacking, obscenity, e-commerce fraud, Internet-related crimes were registered in 2006. There were 12 cases registered in 2005 indicating 42 per cent rise. It happens that 2005 almost marks the popularity of Orkut as a public forum. The news is that Adnan went to meet a girl , Angel D whom he met in Orkut. But unfortunately, his three friends abducted him and killed him for a heavy ransom.
Orkut is an addictive forum and is helping to stay in touch with long-lost buddies in a very easy and simple process. Its a piece of cake for the 'peeping Toms' as its allows an Orkut member to go to any profile and check scraps and videos and that person's friend lists. There are also communities that raise awareness and being members of it you can in fact track other friends also.
But sadly, this community is being misused, with people creating fake profiles and using it to faclitate sex trade and other murky activities. Talks have been going on to ban Orkut in India but this is not going to suffice anybody's needs. Orkut is just a drop of water in the vast ocean of Internet. If it is banned those pervs will find another site to carry on their mindless sadistic crimes.
All that is needed is to use our freedom of expression in a mature way. We need to stay vigil to shoo away all the unwanted elements that are making other innocent people suffer.
Monday, June 4, 2007
My Tryst wid The Supernatural!!!!!!!!!
An old lady with white hair, she comes out at the dead of night when the moon is full. Her hair is waist length and shimmers silver and black with the moonlight playing hide and seek with the clouds. She stands in the middle of the old pool on her golden boat and moves it with her golden oar. If anybody passes by she will beckon at you to come and get the golden coins which she has hidden in the bed of the pool. Nobody has seen her face as she's devoid of any features. By the time you reach the pool, you are neck deep in water and you are pulled into a watery grave as she chokes you inside the water mercilessly. So, greed is bad.
That's how my neighborhood 'Grandma' used to teach me moral lessons. Yeah the side effects were there, giving sleepless nights to my poor parents. The first night when I heard that story, I got a fever and was in a delirium, screaming at short notices. From that day poor grandma got scared with my spooky exertions. She made it a point that I wasn't around while she dwelt on stories of witches, ghosts, evil dwarfs to the attentive audience of my cousin and my siblings.
As I grew up, that biased treatment of being deprived of the supernatural knowledge got the better of me. When I was 10 years old, I borrowed a book 'World Famous Ghost Stories' from my classmate. I carefully covered it with brown paper, not because mom will chide me that I am wasting my time not reading my course books. It was only because that I see terrible nightmares and scream enough to scare the ghosts away if they are any around. The first story was fine, of a dead sailor who died on the way to his marriage and though he couldn't make it, his soul could find his way back only to evaporate when his fiancé kissed him. It was somewhat funny when I think of it now but back than it was too scary. The second story, I don't remember but the third story was terrible. It was of a new house which was built in an ancient graveyard and faces of people showed up in the tiles.
After reading that, I started seeing faces in the tiles of our bathroom floor, throwing suspicious questions to my parents that why can't we dig our backyard and see if we had some kind of treasures hidden there. Well I put it that way as they will become askance if I start talking about skulls and graves. As obvious, they didn't give any attention to me, except for weird looks and that book got a save place under the sofa, which I flipped out of fear. My hands were too tiny to get inside the sofa. Well! what happened after that let’s not dwell in that. By this time you must have guessed it! I wasn't sitting on the sofa for a long long time as I thought the spectres inside the book will come to fetch me. I used to look at the shower if blood is coming out instead of water, typical Ramsay style, which I used to have a peek as my uncle had a collection of VHS tapes of those movies which he used to rent from our local neighbourhood VDO parlour.
As I started growing up, studies, activities occupied me but by then cable TV had made an appearance, and I always used to catch the repeated episodes of Zee Horror Show and Aahat as prime time was an impossibility with my parents around. When I reached college, 'Hamlet' was my favourite play and guess what I knew all the Hamlet's soliloqueys by heart.
Ten years hence after leaving my hometown for higher studies, I got my first tryst with the unexplained. Me and my two friends used to stay in an old flat in the third floor in Mayur Vihar, Delhi. Delhi was at its boiling best than, so we never had a habit of closing the windows. My roommate’s window opened out to an unused space. One summer night, we had slept off almost roasted with the hot climate of Delhi. At 3 am, I heard a sharp shrill ear-piercing scream and I could make it out, that it was nearby. I woke up, checked the clock, 3 am(the time when Jesus was dead and spirits come out, according to my friend). I soon realised that it was my roommate. In the dark, I could make out her crouched silhouette, and that weeping sounds like she's possessed or something.
I went numb as somebody has taken the wind off me! I just leapt to her and held her as I couldn't figure out anything else to do. Well the consequence was that she started screaming again, I also started screaming and crying like a numbskull! My other roommate rushed in and switched on the light. Finally, she came to her senses and started pointing at her window. She spoke but it sounded like Spanish, as we couldn't make out what she was saying. We gave her water and than she told that a thing in the shape of a human being was coming in from the grilled window and going out. Her body became cold and when she tried to pull on the bed sheet she confronted the red eyes with white eyeballs. She screamed out by than it was gone (Well she screamed loud enough to wake up the dead, I was a witness to that). We changed the house asap.
Another incident happened where I stay now, though miles apart in Bangalore. My previous room was haunted. It was dark and resembled a cave. Well the ghost is a typical lady in red sari coming and choking you, playing games like pulling the blanket, peeking at you when you watching TV at the dead of night when you don’t get the much -needed sleep. All my roomates have seen it except me, I feel kinda deprived though. Is it I am so gross that ghosts are scared of me!!! Or is it I am blessed and so good that evil forces can't touch me!!!
What do you think? So do you believe in ghosts?
That's how my neighborhood 'Grandma' used to teach me moral lessons. Yeah the side effects were there, giving sleepless nights to my poor parents. The first night when I heard that story, I got a fever and was in a delirium, screaming at short notices. From that day poor grandma got scared with my spooky exertions. She made it a point that I wasn't around while she dwelt on stories of witches, ghosts, evil dwarfs to the attentive audience of my cousin and my siblings.
As I grew up, that biased treatment of being deprived of the supernatural knowledge got the better of me. When I was 10 years old, I borrowed a book 'World Famous Ghost Stories' from my classmate. I carefully covered it with brown paper, not because mom will chide me that I am wasting my time not reading my course books. It was only because that I see terrible nightmares and scream enough to scare the ghosts away if they are any around. The first story was fine, of a dead sailor who died on the way to his marriage and though he couldn't make it, his soul could find his way back only to evaporate when his fiancé kissed him. It was somewhat funny when I think of it now but back than it was too scary. The second story, I don't remember but the third story was terrible. It was of a new house which was built in an ancient graveyard and faces of people showed up in the tiles.
After reading that, I started seeing faces in the tiles of our bathroom floor, throwing suspicious questions to my parents that why can't we dig our backyard and see if we had some kind of treasures hidden there. Well I put it that way as they will become askance if I start talking about skulls and graves. As obvious, they didn't give any attention to me, except for weird looks and that book got a save place under the sofa, which I flipped out of fear. My hands were too tiny to get inside the sofa. Well! what happened after that let’s not dwell in that. By this time you must have guessed it! I wasn't sitting on the sofa for a long long time as I thought the spectres inside the book will come to fetch me. I used to look at the shower if blood is coming out instead of water, typical Ramsay style, which I used to have a peek as my uncle had a collection of VHS tapes of those movies which he used to rent from our local neighbourhood VDO parlour.
As I started growing up, studies, activities occupied me but by then cable TV had made an appearance, and I always used to catch the repeated episodes of Zee Horror Show and Aahat as prime time was an impossibility with my parents around. When I reached college, 'Hamlet' was my favourite play and guess what I knew all the Hamlet's soliloqueys by heart.
Ten years hence after leaving my hometown for higher studies, I got my first tryst with the unexplained. Me and my two friends used to stay in an old flat in the third floor in Mayur Vihar, Delhi. Delhi was at its boiling best than, so we never had a habit of closing the windows. My roommate’s window opened out to an unused space. One summer night, we had slept off almost roasted with the hot climate of Delhi. At 3 am, I heard a sharp shrill ear-piercing scream and I could make it out, that it was nearby. I woke up, checked the clock, 3 am(the time when Jesus was dead and spirits come out, according to my friend). I soon realised that it was my roommate. In the dark, I could make out her crouched silhouette, and that weeping sounds like she's possessed or something.
I went numb as somebody has taken the wind off me! I just leapt to her and held her as I couldn't figure out anything else to do. Well the consequence was that she started screaming again, I also started screaming and crying like a numbskull! My other roommate rushed in and switched on the light. Finally, she came to her senses and started pointing at her window. She spoke but it sounded like Spanish, as we couldn't make out what she was saying. We gave her water and than she told that a thing in the shape of a human being was coming in from the grilled window and going out. Her body became cold and when she tried to pull on the bed sheet she confronted the red eyes with white eyeballs. She screamed out by than it was gone (Well she screamed loud enough to wake up the dead, I was a witness to that). We changed the house asap.
Another incident happened where I stay now, though miles apart in Bangalore. My previous room was haunted. It was dark and resembled a cave. Well the ghost is a typical lady in red sari coming and choking you, playing games like pulling the blanket, peeking at you when you watching TV at the dead of night when you don’t get the much -needed sleep. All my roomates have seen it except me, I feel kinda deprived though. Is it I am so gross that ghosts are scared of me!!! Or is it I am blessed and so good that evil forces can't touch me!!!
What do you think? So do you believe in ghosts?
Monday, April 9, 2007
CONvicted!!!!
Recently I was reading an article in TOI on the wackiest con jobs ever in history. It came up with an interesting itinerary. Strange stories from Hitler's diaries to Bonsai Kittens were added in the list. The duping factor was perfectly highlighted in all of them.
The anecdote on 'Hitler's Diaries' was a stand out in the history of foolproof cheating. The dodger Konrad Kajau had actually concocted a tale of finding Adolf Hitler's 62 diaries in the crucial period of 1932-1945. Kajau traded the diaries with a deal of 9.9 million with the German magazine Der Stern taking up the rights in 1983. Eventhough experts pointed out that Hitler did not favour writing journals and notes, 'Der Stern' actually believed Kajau's crap that these diaries were found in the debris of a plane carrying Hitler's stuff. But finally the hoax was busted. These diaries were a rookie attempt of Kajau at forgery. He was an affliated handwriting imitator. He atrociously copied content from an author Max D' Hitler's Speeches and Proclamations' and scooped it up with the use of whitener and VOILA!!! he swindles a million deal.
The 'BONSAI KITTENS' is stranger than fiction itself. An amateur student at the Boston based Massachusetts Institute of Technology had displayed the images of kittens in a web site who were sandwiched in glass containers so that it can shape itself to the size of the tiny containers. Similarly like the Japanese art of Bonsai, where miniature trees are grown. I am just wondering how can these sadistic ideas can come to one's mind!!!
Another classic piece is of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle getting seduced by snaps of supernatural beings, fairies. Cousin Frances Griffiths and Elsie Wright used their shutterbug skills to hoodwink folks in 1917-20. These female fakers showed photographic proof of their games with fairies. The spell was broken in 1978 when a researcher found out that the fairies in the snaps had an uncanny resemblance to the figures in 'Princess Mary's Gift Book', a children edition published in 1915. This 'OOPS' con was revealed in 1981 when the cousin confessed these fairies were paper cutouts fastened with hairpins. Doyle must be turning in his grave now!!!
I just wonder from where do they get this inspiration and ideas. Is it movies like 'Bunty and Babli', 'Dhoom 2', 'Bluffmaster', 'Hera Pheri' or DiCaprio's interpretation of 'Frank Abanagle' in 'Catch me if you can' that their inspiration lie. What is it their talent, artistry or stupidity of people? These people are ace and suave in their fiedls. If caught, its their bad luck, if not its the victim's bad luck.
The anecdote on 'Hitler's Diaries' was a stand out in the history of foolproof cheating. The dodger Konrad Kajau had actually concocted a tale of finding Adolf Hitler's 62 diaries in the crucial period of 1932-1945. Kajau traded the diaries with a deal of 9.9 million with the German magazine Der Stern taking up the rights in 1983. Eventhough experts pointed out that Hitler did not favour writing journals and notes, 'Der Stern' actually believed Kajau's crap that these diaries were found in the debris of a plane carrying Hitler's stuff. But finally the hoax was busted. These diaries were a rookie attempt of Kajau at forgery. He was an affliated handwriting imitator. He atrociously copied content from an author Max D' Hitler's Speeches and Proclamations' and scooped it up with the use of whitener and VOILA!!! he swindles a million deal.
The 'BONSAI KITTENS' is stranger than fiction itself. An amateur student at the Boston based Massachusetts Institute of Technology had displayed the images of kittens in a web site who were sandwiched in glass containers so that it can shape itself to the size of the tiny containers. Similarly like the Japanese art of Bonsai, where miniature trees are grown. I am just wondering how can these sadistic ideas can come to one's mind!!!
Another classic piece is of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle getting seduced by snaps of supernatural beings, fairies. Cousin Frances Griffiths and Elsie Wright used their shutterbug skills to hoodwink folks in 1917-20. These female fakers showed photographic proof of their games with fairies. The spell was broken in 1978 when a researcher found out that the fairies in the snaps had an uncanny resemblance to the figures in 'Princess Mary's Gift Book', a children edition published in 1915. This 'OOPS' con was revealed in 1981 when the cousin confessed these fairies were paper cutouts fastened with hairpins. Doyle must be turning in his grave now!!!
I just wonder from where do they get this inspiration and ideas. Is it movies like 'Bunty and Babli', 'Dhoom 2', 'Bluffmaster', 'Hera Pheri' or DiCaprio's interpretation of 'Frank Abanagle' in 'Catch me if you can' that their inspiration lie. What is it their talent, artistry or stupidity of people? These people are ace and suave in their fiedls. If caught, its their bad luck, if not its the victim's bad luck.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Sleepy Beauties!!!
The alarms goes off at 5.30 am, 6am, 6.30am and the last one that’s mine at 7 am. The next question that strikes you is: What on earth am I doing with four alarms? Well each of the alarm belongs to each of the four sleeping beauties in my PG room. By the time my alarm gives the final tring and by far the shrillest one we realize its time to move our darned booties. But spoilt as ever that is the last thing in our minds. Though my alarm goes off last I am the first one to wake up. Everyone in the room tries to find an inspiration from me. Its like let Mofi wake up and than I’ll follow.
As soon as my alarm comes to life at 7am, an incessant conflict in my body and mind starts. I feel as the alarm and my mind is conniving against my body to wake me up. Every muscle in my body tells me that I should sleep a little bit more but my mind is nagging me to wake up and rush. I have to reach office by 9am so I go at 8.35 am. Actually I need half an hour more to wake up so if my alarm goes off at 7 that means I will wake up at 7.30.am.
Poor me! Finally when I wake up, totally hazy as if I have fought a war sans the war paint, things are not at all comforting. I see my other roommates sleeping as if the Evil Witch has casted a spell on them to sleep for a 100 years. How I wish that the Evil Witch existed so that she could also cast a spell on me and I could also sleep for a century without growing old. I think its rejuvenating too. Why I feel that? If you recall that ‘Sleeping Beauty’ story, she woke up after 100 years without a wrinkle on her face, or a grey hair in fact a Prince Charming came and kissed her and took her away to live happily ever after.
Well, I don’t dream of such fairytales. But I do have a dreamy secret sweet world. I am the Princess of the kingdom called ‘Mofitude’, where everybody loves me and obeys me too. I have got this swinging white cushiony couch where I crouch like a kitten and sleep. This couch takes me to places. It can be a beach with sand and shady coconut trees, a sunny valley with wild flowers and streams or a manicured garden with birds, butterflies and white rabbits to give me company and watch over me when I am sleeping. Doesn’t it sound like Shakespeare’s ‘Midsummer’s night dreams ‘. At least this El Dorado exists in my dreams.
I feel there is something funny with my eyes. On holidays, I tend to wake up early but on working days my pair of eyes is like the doors of Ali Baba’s caves it just won’t open. Sometimes I wish that my roommates should engage in loud snoring but unfortunately none of us snore until and unless we have a lousy cold. In this context, I would like to talk about our previous roommate, who used to snore and fart so loudly that we used to wake up at the dead of night to check if a wounded animal is lurking in our room. Her farts sounded as if an animal is crying in pain. Her stench was so strong that it used to stay till the wee hours of the morning and once it hit our nostrils we can’t help but run for our lives.
But to be honest I was never bothered about sleeping so much. Maybe I am growing old but on a positive note at least I am getting more sleep and I am hopeful that I don’t have to suffer from insomnia and God Forbid take sleeping pills. Hey this post has seeped all my energies. Gotta go for a quick siesta. Goodnight Folks!
As soon as my alarm comes to life at 7am, an incessant conflict in my body and mind starts. I feel as the alarm and my mind is conniving against my body to wake me up. Every muscle in my body tells me that I should sleep a little bit more but my mind is nagging me to wake up and rush. I have to reach office by 9am so I go at 8.35 am. Actually I need half an hour more to wake up so if my alarm goes off at 7 that means I will wake up at 7.30.am.
Poor me! Finally when I wake up, totally hazy as if I have fought a war sans the war paint, things are not at all comforting. I see my other roommates sleeping as if the Evil Witch has casted a spell on them to sleep for a 100 years. How I wish that the Evil Witch existed so that she could also cast a spell on me and I could also sleep for a century without growing old. I think its rejuvenating too. Why I feel that? If you recall that ‘Sleeping Beauty’ story, she woke up after 100 years without a wrinkle on her face, or a grey hair in fact a Prince Charming came and kissed her and took her away to live happily ever after.
Well, I don’t dream of such fairytales. But I do have a dreamy secret sweet world. I am the Princess of the kingdom called ‘Mofitude’, where everybody loves me and obeys me too. I have got this swinging white cushiony couch where I crouch like a kitten and sleep. This couch takes me to places. It can be a beach with sand and shady coconut trees, a sunny valley with wild flowers and streams or a manicured garden with birds, butterflies and white rabbits to give me company and watch over me when I am sleeping. Doesn’t it sound like Shakespeare’s ‘Midsummer’s night dreams ‘. At least this El Dorado exists in my dreams.
I feel there is something funny with my eyes. On holidays, I tend to wake up early but on working days my pair of eyes is like the doors of Ali Baba’s caves it just won’t open. Sometimes I wish that my roommates should engage in loud snoring but unfortunately none of us snore until and unless we have a lousy cold. In this context, I would like to talk about our previous roommate, who used to snore and fart so loudly that we used to wake up at the dead of night to check if a wounded animal is lurking in our room. Her farts sounded as if an animal is crying in pain. Her stench was so strong that it used to stay till the wee hours of the morning and once it hit our nostrils we can’t help but run for our lives.
But to be honest I was never bothered about sleeping so much. Maybe I am growing old but on a positive note at least I am getting more sleep and I am hopeful that I don’t have to suffer from insomnia and God Forbid take sleeping pills. Hey this post has seeped all my energies. Gotta go for a quick siesta. Goodnight Folks!
Monday, March 19, 2007
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