Posts

Showing posts from August, 2011

Yeh Dil Maange Mole!

It’s past midnight & I’m blogging. Not because I have nothing better to do, but because I have SO much to do I can’t decide WHAT to do. Déjà vu? Yeah, I know.I was chatting with a friend (yes, that’s what I do when I have a workload) and then the topic of moles & pimples came up. He made some comment about “my mole is a like a white mark on my black face” or something to that effect which like totally bounced off my head-he was high on Coke( the thanda walare) he later confessed. But that made me think about my mole… the silent, black mole sitting jauntily on my nose, assured of its ‘landmark’ status. I’m proud of my mole-it’s a proof that I’m my father’s daughter (Pa has the same kind, except it’s quite inconspicuous). So whenever my Mom throws a comment at me that she might have just picked me up from some mela or worse a garbage dump, I proudly point to my nose & smirk, ha!
All my life I have been subjected to all kinds of ridicule…like the time in Std 10 when my Mom (y…

My Moments…

Image
I have been writing on some serious topics these days…seriously creating an illusion that I can think deep & profound thoughts. That would make the blog title a total misnomer if there ever was one! So in order to protect my reputation & also that of my blog, I am back with a ‘normal’ post. Since all weekend I have been busy with guiding my classmates on how to drink & party( details later) & trying to categorize the various movies I have in my laptop( making space deleting all those useless PPT slides our teachers give us), I am short of inspiration. So I’ll do what I do best-talk about myself.My Most Embarrassing Moment(s):

Ah! I can already see your eyes flare up & you licking your lips in anticipation. No one can resist a good laugh at other’s expense. And I am benevolent enough to let you have your fun. As you already know(presuming you are a regular reader) I am notorious for running into trouble-weird love life, kitchen fires, drunk & wasted, making a fool…

The Face

Image
There she was again. Face half-hidden behind her long dupatta, a glittering ghagra sending out rainbows in the sunlight as she walked or rather glided, the presence of her feet given away by the soft jingling of her anklets. He stood mesmerized as always. The place he was from, he rated a woman by the length & shine of her legs or hourglass figure. He wasn’t used to be stupefied by a pair of kohl-lined eyes or the sight of multicoloured bangles adorning slim hands. But Samar was smitten & not by a desire to conquer, which was strange. All he wanted was to capture the face, her face, her persona, capture it in his camera & show off to the world this startling evidence of the existence of true beauty untouched & virgin.

Samar was an amateur photographer settled in a crowded metro. After the news of his grandfather’s demise, he had decided to visit his old ancestral home & finally sell it off. It was on this visit that he had come across her. Their first encounter had…