we are accountable!

I was just going through my last post when I happened to see the date. Little did I know that the very day when I was penning down my silly little auto tales, the evening of Nov 26 had something so sinister in store for India. Over the past weeks, I have read scores and scores of write ups airing opinions of one and all. I have gone through a mix of emotions from fear to disgust to anger.....there have been nights I havent been able to sleep and when I have, my sleep has been infested with nightmares of terrorist attacks, dust, grime and blood. Everyone around has been expressing shock about how a bunch of people entered our country and held us hostage on our very soil.
We have been blaming politicians, bureaucrats ...everyone we can lay our hands on for the attack- why was there an intelligence failure, why are our politicians not vigilant enough, why are they not accountable...why why why? But you know there is a saying that when you point a finger at someone, four fingers point back at you. Though there is no way that the administration or the system in this country can be excused but neither can we. I have been at fault here and so have thousands of people. We go to cinema halls and crib- "why do they have to frisk us, does my face say that I am a criminal or what". "Why dont they let us water bottles inside...all they want to do is make more money off us?" And tomm when something happens, we are the first to blame...."they should have had better security". When a guard at a mall searches our car with a broken mirror, do we get down and take him to task..do we report to the mall authorities and ask them to pull up their socks.
There is simply no consideration for another person's life or belongings. People on the road are almost out to get each other.....they just need to get ahead ..it doesnt matter if the other person is hurt or his vehicle is damaged. All we think about is us and our time and our comfort. We stand at a billing line in a grocery store....we just dont wish to follow the rules...after all our time is more precious than others. While at work, we try to get the easier way out.....pile work on others....why not spend more time judging others than concentrating on how better we can do. I don't wish to sound holier than thou..after all I am just as much as fault here. But, if each of us went about doing our own work properly...thinking a little less about ME and a little more about US.....if we were more vigilant and more proactive....I just wonder if things will not be different. ...If we could be a little more considerate...a little more efficient in our own space in our own way. If we could participate a lot more in our resident welfare association meetings.....block intitiatives....we can make a difference. Before changing the world...lets change ourselves first.

the amusing auto rides

I am back to my favourite topic- auto rides in Delhi! Can't help it since that is my sole means of transportation in the city. I feel I can fill reams after reams of sheets with my experiences. My friends are of the firm opinion that it is just me who has the good fortune or misfortune (you can take your pick after going thru these accounts) of meeting such colourful autorickshaw drivers.
For instance, take day before yesterday. I had just finished an assignment in Safdarjung and was starving to death. All I wanted to do was reach the cosy recesses of my house in peace. After some six drivers having scurried away the moment I uttered the word jamuna paar, this one guy agreed to ferry me to East Delhi. Little was I to know that my dreams of a peaceful 40 minute journey were to go up in smoke in a matter of seconds. Deciding to test my knowledge of the city, he kept quizzing me about the names of roads and locations of famous landmarks. Not happy with just that, he started telling me of how some foreign ladies had made him cross the length and breadth of Connaught Place some ten times, when their destination was tucked away in the bylanes of Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg. And how our heroic all knowing auto rickshaw driver used his grey cells and found out the place without much help (mind you...he decided to exercise his grey cells after 2 hours of roaming abt aimlessly...bt thats just a small nuance). Just when I thought he would keep his heroic deeds to himself, he started telling me how much he hated the trade fair, which he had visited once in high school..and by the looks of it that must have been eons ago! Needless to say that I managed to reach home in one place, but my brain didn't. By that time, it had slowly disintegrated to a fine gooey pulp.
Or another time, when this one auto guy decided to test what happens if your brakes fail. That's great but why test it on me. As he wove his way in between trucks and buses and raced ahead of cars, I felt like asking him if he was chasing an invisible enemy. With a prayer on my lips, I hung on to dear life. Thankfully god answered and I managed to live the day to tell this tale. Oh and of course we got to know what happens when you don't apply brakes, the traffic gods swoop down on you and give you a big slip of paper with challan imprinted in bold.
And this I am sure must have happened to a whole lot of you- when you would tell the auto drivers to take a particular route and they would use their own imagination and take you all over town. Its ok if it happens once, its a little infuriating when it happens thrice but it can fill you with murderous rage if it happens all the time! Well, that's what seems to happen with me...not one auto rickshaw driver follows the route that I suggest...is it just my face which has moron wriiten all over it..or what is it people...pls pls tell
Oh and you must see the camaraderie between two auto drivers to believe it. To carry on a conversation that began at a red light, they are willing to take wrong turns, go below the speed limit (till it feels it would be better if I walked home) and stop traffic irrespective of the scores of vehicles honking at the back.
But you get to experience all this only if you get an auto. Somehow it seems that whichever place I wish to go to, the auto walahs wish to go in the opposite direction. I have walked kilometres waiting for a ride...but all I heard were loud NOs and some very innovative excuses. For the best excuses ever, please head to the auto stand in Mayur Vihar Phase I, just near the bus stand.
Once the conversation went like this:
Me: "bhaiiya auto khaali hai"
Group of auto drivers: "nahi"
Me (being a little bolder than usual): "kyun...saare auto tho khaali pade hain"
A middle aged auto driver: "humne daru pi hui hai...ab bolo..jaoge kya"
I could just blubber out a few inconsequential nothings due to the rage that was bubbling inside.
Another time, the daru had been substituted by tea, but the excuse essentially remained the same.
Another place that auto walahs decide to exercise their nakhras is ITO. It seems their heads are programmed only to nod out a negative. One day I just couldn't take it anymore and blurted out "aap log ek kaam kyun nahi karte..buses ki tarah auto pe bhi route list laga dijiye..ki app log is is jagah hi jaayenge aur is is jagah nahi jaayenge". The man looked at me as if I was delirious..gave me a pitiful smile and zoomed away.
These are just few of the zillion experiences that I have had with autos. Since for me this is a daily thing...I can promise you many more such tales (Even if you are already pakaoed of them..blaaa)

quite a ride!

Usually on my way back I see sights which amuse me, some which make me sad, but yesterday I came across something that made me livid! If you go down the Pragati Maidan road, you will come across a red light. If you take a left from there you will reach ITO and a right turn will lead you to East Delhi (that useless piece of info was just to help you establish the location). Everyday, I see a group of school boys gathered at the junction creating quite a ruckus. The boisterous lot have no qualms in passing lewd remarks at passers by or passing through vehicles trying to intimidate auto and car passengers. Since it is quite a long red light, I get the full blast of their hooliganism. Yesterday, however, they crossed all limits. A DTC bus was patiently biding its time when these youngsters decided to have some fun. One by one they leapt on to the back of the bus, balancing themselves precariously. When a couple of auto rickshaw drivers tried to dissuade them from doing so, they started throwing things at the vehicles. With loud noises, wolf whistles and lewd songs on their lips, they continued to maintain their position at the derriere of the bus. The feeling of smugness was quite evident on their faces...the fact that they considered themselves heroes could be seen in their haughty demeanour. Surprisingly, the bus driver and conductor did nothing to make these boys get down. In fact they looked on encouragingly. Since this light is a few metres ahead of the Trade Fair venue where the police presence is quite high, one would have expected that someone would come and chastise the boys..but nothing happened. If any of the boys would have lost balance and fallen off the bus, it is ghastly to just imagine what the consequences would have been. Even now as I am puttin gthe post up, a colleague came up and laughed out....according to him I was behaving like a perfect foreign tourist who has never seen the state of Delhi traffic and is aghast with surprise. But isn' this attitude itself giving encouragement to such behaviour. I know some people who read this may feel that I am acting like a perfect grandmother..but I dont care! WHo is to educate people abt the fine line between daredevilry and foolishness. Tomm if one of these boys loses his life in such acts of wild stupidity, what could have been a fine life ahead will be lost.....It may sound corny...bt this one line from Sarkar keeps coming to my mind "Door ke fayde ke liye paas ka nuskaan nahi sochna chahiye" (or sthing like that). Just felt really irritated by this incident and thought that the least I could do was vent out my feelings. Do put in your comments....and let me know what you think abt this...

of camping out, hot rum and canine encounters in Sangla

For all you guys who have been bitten by the travel bug and wish to get away from the mad mad rush of the city, there is no place better to go to than Sangla. The valley is nestled amidst majestic snow clad mountains with the Baspa river winding its way through the lush green terrain.
It's not possible to reach Sangla in a day, if you are travelling from Delhi. It is advisable to halt in Simla and then head off to Sangla the next day at the crack of dawn. Simla, with its lively mall road and bustling hotels, provided a much needed pit stop to us exhausted travelers. Our hotel was located ahead of the mall road and we had many a prying monkeys drop down from the tree top to have a look at our lunch spread. The first time I saw inquisitive eyes staring back at me as I sipped on my soup, I nearly choked with fright. The mall road offered its usual fare of excitement with eateries and shops lining up on either sides. Having to elbow and push our way through the maddening crowd was a different story altogether. After the numerous photo sessions in and around the church, visits to the fabulous bakeries and the wonderment at the Gaiety Theatre which seems to be forever under renovation, we decided it was time to cool our heels.
We made our way to Combermere, a really fab hotel with great food and a lovely terrace restaurant. And I must say, if you want to take a detour from the regular fruit based cocktails and have the classic versions, then this is the place to be. Simple, robust and minus the fruity frills, these cocktails will surely lift your spirits. After a heart repast, we took off on a long walk to find our taxi which would take us back to our hotel. The next day, just as the sun rays were beginning to warm up the town, we started our journey towards Sangla. It is amazing how waking up early is such a task in the city whereas when you have a destination to look forward to, it just becomes part of the excitement.
The winding mountain road took us through the fruit terrain of Himachal, from Simla to Chail and Naldehra. It was amazing to see how the varying hues and textures of the mountains as we moved on. Soon, Sutlej greeted us with its cheerful gurgling and it was a delight to have it give us company throughout the way. To get a better view of this majestic river, we made a halt at a bridge. Chicken that I am, I refused to move an inch on the bridge, but soon the spirit of adventure got the better of me, and there I was strutting up and down the fragile bridge with glee (although with prayer on my lips....what if the bridge had collapsed under my humongous weight..or the flash floods would have made the river surge in a matter of seconds..or if I had lost balance...or if the tiny gust of wind would have blown me over..one has to think of these things before stepping onto a bridge..what do u know!) The best part of the journey started when we crossed Rampur. Never will I ever forget this site. As we crossed a bend of the road, the most breathtaking sight presented itself to me. Regal snow clad mountains peeping out from behind a deep rocky gorge- the pure white of the snow serving as a beautiful contrast to the blue flowers of the trees and the earthen beauty of the gorge. There is nothing that had prepared me for this beauty and it just left me speechless.
As we crossed Karcham where the Karcham Sutlej project is on in full swing, we did what we always do- we lost the way. We took a wrong turn and found ourselves on a rocky, untraversible (is there a word like this...well u got the point rt?) road and our gut instinct told us we were on the wrong path (a jeep full of locals also substantiated the point later..but it was our instinct which told us first! blaaa) With the directions firmly in place, we took the first step into Sangla Valley. The Kinner Kailash range rose in front of us and lush green meadows stood below us. Beautiful apple blossoms dotted the valley here and there and the river gleamed under diffused sunlight. Suddenly pleasant breeze gave way to cool winds as we made our way into the lap of nature. The best part about Sangla is that it hasn't been touched by much commercialisation. Luxury camps and not hotels and resorts are the available accomodation here..and boy aren't we glad of that!
We made our way to Banjara camps which was set in the heart of an apple orchard on the banks of the Baspa river. It felt like you could just put your hand out and touch the Kinner Kailash range. Needless to say, Sumu got extremely busy with the camera.....but soon he gave it a rest to just soak in the ethereal beauty of the place. I was in a frenzy of another kind. My mobile didnt have any network and I couldnt inform my parents that I had reached. I could just imagine my mom going frantic with worry, picturing every sordid thing that could have happened to us. But soon, a call from them to the camp manager put everything to rest and the no network situation actually appealed to me. This was exactly what I wanted- away from the madding crowd, away from office worries, daily anxieties and regular routine. Just communing with nature.
If you choose to take that trip to Sangla, then I would strongly recommend a stay at Banjara Camps. A handful of luxury tents offer you the experience of the beautiful outdoors without having to compromise on comforts. A warm bed welcomes you inside and there is also an LPG heated bathroom attached to every tent. A small sit out allows you to enjoy the grand locale in your own personal way. There is cute little dining area which is well equipped with games and a small library to cater to your recreational needs. And the food is just fantabulous...simple well cooked fare that is much more appealing than any royal repast. The first day we just let Sangla get under our skins. After a brief rest, it was time to gather around for a bonfire. And boy, were the evenings cold? Brilliant that I am, I had only packed two sets of woollens for myself...after all how cold could any place be in April. And was I proved wrong? After a scrumptious barbeque and a hearty meal, we headed back to our tents. I was so pleasantly surprised to find hot water bottles and a warm bed waiting for me. The considerate and hospitable touch of the camp personnel was visible all across our tent. Though chilling winds blew across the camp all night, the water bottles kept me warm and comfy.
The next day we decided to take a trip down to the last village on the Indo-Tibet border- Chitkul. The way to Chitkul is truly picture perfect. With quaint houses interspersed with a cluster of apple blossoms lining the way, the trip was truly a delight. We took small halts by tiny streams that flowed down an area that had been ravaged by flash floods in the past. As we neared Chitkul, the road opened up to the valley and the snow crested peaks seemed almost at an arm's distance. The small hamlet of Chitkul comprises of a few houses and shops. One can trek down to the last army post on the border. We roughed it out on a rocky terrain that overlook the river, met a couple of tourists and lot of animal life on the way. The weirdest encounter was with this unique family of three sheep and a cow, with the latter having a sort of an identity crisis- in its head it was as much a sheep as the one standing next to it..didnt I just hear a meeeeehheeehh from it instead of the expected moooooo.
After having passed several grassy knolls and streams on the way, we sat down to a lunch of sandwiches and rhododenron juice under a tree. But little were we to know that we would be so rudely interrupted. A couple of army officials came down to us and asked us so many questions that I almost began to feel I was an illegal trespasser on this land. After having convinced them of our motive and identitywe made a hurried trip back to the village. Needless to say, by this time I had convinced myself that if I didnt hurry back, i would be thrown into the gallows by the army and I would never see my family again. And hence, a route that had taken us some 40 minutes to traverse, took us only 20 minutes to cover on the way back. And no, we werent thrown into a dingy kalkothri or anything so grim....but my mood surely had gone sour for the day. I just didnt understand why harmless tourists were taken to task and that also so rudely. My mood cheered up a but when I made my way to the last PCO on the Indo-Tibet border. And for some reason, owners of all shops were constantly weaving and sewing something or the other. After having assured parents of our wellbeing we made our way back to the camp. But soon Sumu was struck with a brilliant idea. And this was strictly for medicinal purposes..he claims even now. Why not warm ourselves with a dose of dark rum mixed with warm water- only to drive away the cold. So on we drove to Sangla town and scoured for a wine shop. Luck was with us and Sumu soon got us the provisions. Feeling extremely smug with ourselves we made our way back to the camp. And needless to say the rum worked wonders. The cackling of wood at the bonfire, the smoky smell of tikkas and a glassfull of hot rum...it just couldnt get better than that. And of course, giving us company at the bonfire was this huge Gujarati family. Some of the elders put us to shame when they told us stories about how at the age of 70 and 71 they had taken a trek to Mansarovar and actually completed the parikrama- a feat which younger and fitter people have not been able to accomplish.
The next day, we were joined by Captain Sud who so ably manages the camp. He regaled us with stories of the various treks that he has taken across the Himalayas. We decided to experience the wild outdoors by going for a long trek to Rakcham. We crossed a faint bridge to reach Batseri village which was located just across the camp. The local devta temple and a really ancient gompa were some of the architectural delights that we saw there. Also unique was this huge 108 year old lock that a lady still used to secure her house. As we moved on from the village, we were joined by this handsome looking dog. It appeared out of nowhere and kept us company throughout the trek. If we would lag behind, it would go ahead and wait for us...if I had trouble climbing a rock, it would stand there as if egging me to go on...when we were eating lunch by a stream, not only did it not take a single morsel from us but also seated itself in the other direction so as to not intrude on the meal. I have never seen a more well behaved dog ever in my life! The trek to Rakcham unfolded a different terrain in front of us after every ten minutes. Grassy meadows, huge rocks, bhoj patra and leh berry trees, small glaciers and icy cold streams- all made an appearance on the walk. I thoroughly enjoyed the view....of course from whatever time I got from panting and puffing from the strain of walking uphill. This is not an easy walk...at least not for people who are unfit like me. One must keep halting and taking deep breaths to conserve energy. But at the end of it, I felt like I had accomplish a grand feat and mentally made a note to join a gym as soon as I hit the plains ( a resolution which is yet to materialise...but isnt it the thought that counts).
This last day at Banjara was the hardest..it was so hard to know that the next day we would be heading back to our normal routine city life...that we would be bidding goodbye to these majestic mountains and the tranquil wonder of nature. But as they say, every good thing must come to an end. So we bundled ourselves off to Delhi the next day..already thinking of our next vacation :)
PS: FYI- Here is the site of Banjara Camps....http://banjaracamps.com/
Reaching Sangla from Shimla:
You would have to take the road route from Shimla to reach Sangla. From Shimla, Sangla is an 8 hr drive (for first time drivers this time may be around 10 hrs). From Chail/Shimla to Karcham (the turnoff point on NH 22) is 221/209kms. Please take a right turn at Karcham. And at around 18 kms down the road, you will hit Sangla.

have lost my heart to pune

Does your face light up like a million bulbs each time the word food is mentioned. Well, then welcome to the foodies club my friend! Till some time back Indian to me meant Mughlai, oriental was a hearty dose of Indian styled Chinese food and I could take down a neat dose of pizza to qualify as someone who ate continental cuisine as well. It was actually Pune that opened up my senses to the finer nuances of food. I had the good fortune of staying in the city for nearly two years as part of my stint with Indian Express and I had a whale of a time trying out new places and new cuisines. As my fascination with food grew, so did my waistline...well,but that's another matter altogether. I am sure everyone is familar with Kayani Bakery and German Bakery. But there is so much more to the city than that...every nook and cranny is crammed with Irani cafes (which are slowly closing down to accomodate the flashy retail shops) that serve the best ban maskas, cookies and chai in the whole wide world. If you are in any of the peths then opt for the traditional fare at any of the eateries. Go to Gopi for a fiery meal of Kolhapuri mutton. As you sit gulp down mouthful after mouthful of lethal albeit scrumptuous food, the owner leaves no moment unturned to inform you that his restaurant has been visited by the likes of Nana Patekar. If you have lost your heart to Bengali food then worry not as Radhika restaurant opposite ESquare would satisfy your cravings for macher jhol and railway mutton curry.
I could fill page after page about the lovely jewels that line the Fergusson College Road. Whether it is Chaitanya that serves the most divine parathas or Vaishali where you could savour everything from pav bhaji to sambhar dosa, each eatery gives you a glimpse of the fabric of the city. You will find a diverse mix of students from all across the world chatting away in one corner, while a troupe of families will be holding a private conference in the other. Whatever the place be, the spirit of bonhomie is reflected everywhere. It is no wonder that Pune comes across as a happy city. Cheery faces, bustling market places, helping hands and good food- doesn't that tempt you to take the next plane down!
And Pune Univeristy Canteen is to be seen to be believed. As you walk down the quiet environs of the University, you will suddenly chance a quaint little place holding fort under a huge banyan tree. That's it..that's the Pune University Canteen. It surely is an hatke experience to have steaming hot idli sambhar or bread pakora in this unique setting. And who can forget Ramakrishna for the bestest dal khichdis in the world! How many hungry journalists has this delicacy sustained is something that will go down in history.
For a more fine dining experience, head to ABC Farms, Koregaon Park or Dolhe Patil Road. Malakka Spice in Koregaon Park will remain forever special to me as this is the first place that my husband took me out for a date and this is the first place that I had a taste of Vietnamese food. As little fairy lights bring the place to life, the eatery takes you on a journey down the spice route- you have some remarkable dishes from Vietnam, Indonesia, Cambodia coupled with the finest selection of wines. This place is a must visit!
If you wish to treat your senses to some fine music along with some great food then head to ABC Farms, which is also in Koregaon Park. A group of restaurants are located in this pristine setting. As noted jazz musicians and rock bands light up the evenings with their music, the restaurants whip up some of the best Mediterranean and Continental cuisine in the city. Each restaurant, whether it is Shisha Cafe, Curves or Swiss Garden, has its own unique character that will surely touch a chord with you.
Dhole Patil Road also offers its own unique selection of eateries. There is Mainland China for some delectable Oriental cuisine, Bombay Brasserie for Indian and Sigree for Hyderabadi food.
I shall always be grateful to the city for opening up my tastebuds to the delights of sea food. There is no where that I have tasted chilli chicken with curry leaves. Do I see you turning up your noses at this unique combo? Well don't 'cos Coconut Grove serves the hottest spiciest yummiest Andhra Chilli Chicken. Grab a drink and chow on the tenderest of neer dosas with chicken gassi. Coconut Grove would be the best place to sample authentic Mangalorean food and that too at extremely reasonable rates. I never had the opportunity to visit Mahesh Lunch Home, but I believe that it is a great place to go for seafood as well.
If you are in Pune, then bike is the best way to get around. I still can't get over the biking trip taken by the gang to Peacock bay on an extremely rainy Independence Day. Or the whimsical trip that me and Sumu took to Mahabaleshwar, sampling corn cakes and sinful strawberries all the way. And who can forget the extremely drunk expedition a whole lot of us embarked on to Sinhagad (Mom Dad if you are browsing through my blog...you could consider not reading on :) ) Though I don't remember most of the trip as I was in a state of drunken enlightenment, I do remember having a hot cuppa and bhajjis at this small tapri at the top of the mountain. And for the life of me, I shall never forget the glorious sunrise that greeted us at dawn. Or the other time at Sinhagad, when Plaban kept looking down crevices and wells looking for ghosts and Manu high on Rang De Basanti fever couldnt stop singing (braying) " masti ki pathshaala"! Sometimes it feels that I have wrapped up so many memories in such a short span of time....I will forever cherish the place where work wasn't work, it was sheer fun...where I learnt to handle my first drink and then mishandled it would be more like it (yes and no need to remind me of a certain farewell party).., where we had the most fantabulous parties at Rashmi's place and for some strange reason Sam insisted on frying all sausages himself (Some one clear the mystery pls) where I met the bestest person on earth (Sumu..u could gloat a little now), where I met friends for life and where everything good happened to me!
So, why am in Delhi again..thats a different story..for another time. But Pune....will miss you forever! sob sob sob

musings

Its a boring day and needless to say that I am bored out of guts. Though I must warn you that some of my friends might raise an eyebrow or two at my statement as according to their estimates this is nothing new and that I am bored almost every hour of every day that I spend in office. However, I don't wish to cause a flurry in their statistics and in a bid to maintain my track record (after all there is something called consistency)..here I am stating yet again that I am bored. After pinging a dozen people on gtalk and watching their shining green lights tranform swiftly into dangerous red bulbs within a matter of my beginning to mention anything of my bored state...i decided to sit down, pretend to stare at the comp and sort out the swirl of thoughts in head.
There are lots of people in the capital, including me, who complain constantly about the rude burlesque careless auto rickshaw drivers in the city. I too have been livid, furious and murderous many a times at their attitude...well what do u expect on a cold wintry evening u wish to get back home as soon as possible and you have a tobacco chewing, spit spweing auto rickshaw driver shaking his head at you unsympathetically and saying "jamuna paar nahi jaana hai". Well, the way Jamuna Paar is uttered, you would think that I was making them wade through the river carrying my heavy weight on their shoulders. But oh what the hell. Anyway I am going ahead of my story. I am here to talk about some extremely moving experiences that I had on these infamous auto rides.
I was on my way from office to home and was crossing the Akshardham temple. As the guy driving the auto broke into one of those corny Hindi film numbers, I couldn't help but stare in an extremely disapproving sort of a way. However, my irritation turned to panic as he took an about turn on a flyover and started to move against the traffic. I opened my mouth to question, but soon I understood what he was up to. My eyes fell on this old wrinkled man who was putting a super human effort into pulling his cart up the flyover. Despite all the efforts, his shrivelled body was not able to carry the weight of the cart up the bridge. My auto rickshaw driver plonked his vehicle behind the cart and put his left foot out on one of the wheels of the cart. With the weight of the auto behind the cart and the pressure put by the driver's foot, the man managed to haul his load onto the bridge. As he reached flat ground, his moist eyes turned to thank the auto driver...the lad just smiled and broke into yet another cheesy song. But this time his off track nasal voice didn't irritate me...it just made me question what I would have done if a situation like this had presented itself before me. Oh I know what I would have done and what thousands of others on the road would have done....observed, sighed and hoped that someone somewhere would come to the rescue of people like the old gentleman with the cart. But not us...maybe because we are too caught up with our own lives to be concerned about people outside of our comfort zone. It is time to wake up ...and to me that moment was a call to get out of my comfort zone and be human...once again...not mere robots programmed by the 21st century to lead a clinical life.

crying out for help

hmmm...its that time of the month again. The mirror refuses to recognise me. I try hard to find myself, instead end up looking at a bear. With thick bushes of black growing of their own accord around my eyebrows and toe nails assuming a mind of their own, I think it is time to come back into the realm of human species. So, here I am, twiddling my thumbs at a plush south delhi salon. As visions of threads cutting through my skin and searing hot wax lodging itself in my arms run through my head, I am almost tempted to run out. But the memory of my husband crying out in sleep, "not my wife...ALIEN!!!!" keeps me rooted to the spot. A sombre looking beautician calls out my name and escorts me to the gallows. I am ordered to change and sit politely on the chair. The beautician cum prison attendant is back, this time with another colleague. And together they begin the process of third degree torture. All I remember now is streaks of white cloth ripping my skin away as the duo buttered my arms and legs with brutally hot wax and slashed the strip off. Exhausted with their dogged efforts, the torturous duo head out for refreshments and leave me in painful anticipation of the next ordeal to come.
So, it's facial time! How bad could that be? A little bit of mask on the face, a soothing massage...now that could be something to look forward to. Well...apparently it only looks good in the sleek advertisements. The reality offers something else. The beginning holds a lot of promise...I assume since the attendant has realised my agony, she is going out of her way to be polite. My back and face are balmed with lotion, stroked and massaged. But wait...what is that prodding my face...ouch..that hurts. Dunce that I am, I take time to realise that the beautician has waged a war on the puny little blackheads that have made my face their home.
AAAH.....I am beginning to see again...tears have long dried up and the white flashes in front of my eyes have disappeared.
Well..you have to hand it to me...I have stuck my ground...and here I am waiting for more `grooming' to take place. "OOOOH" sqeuals the enthusiastic beautician, "your eye brows have an amazing natural shape." Hmmm....finally I am beginning to enjoy the visit..who doesnt like compliments. Oh..but I am soon to find out that I was given a bait and I have successfully risen to it. She launches on my eyebrows with a mere thread and starts pulling at it right left and centre. What...did she sharpen it or something before I came. Each time that I come for threading...I wish I was somewhere else. If there was an equivalent for a thousand red ants gnawing at your face, this has to be it. How long did this take...an hour...a lifetime!!! 5 min..I am told. You gotta be kidding me!
Uff...finally it is over. I scoop up my belongings....pay the release money and scoot out of there. My husband's face lights up...."wow..your skin glows...they really must be good in there. Why dont you book yourself for another session next month ....just relax and pamper yourself again" Uh oh....not in a million years...plssssssss