Screw you Charlie Sheen!

On my 14 hour flight back to Toronto, I managed to watch 11 episodes of two and a half men, quite a feast it was.. One of my favourite Tv shows these days, witty and funny and totally sexy (in the right sense of the word). For those of you who have never seen the show, it's about 2 brothers, their self absorbed mother and the kid Jake...he used to be such a cutie, and then he grew up. And ofcourse a slew of women with boob jobs.
Do I have your attention yet? The women on the show are stunning( most of them) , and dumb ofcourse ( a given). And we have this guy in funny shorts getting hot and heavy with them, while the little Jake, by the way he is now the highest paid junior star… last time I heard it was a million buck per episode, the little bastard, is grappling with his own puberty and his uncle’s sexual escapades, while his dad is seemingly turning into a gay episode after episode.
The show goes on to reveal how vulnerable we women are to rich men with a house on the beach. And I seem to like the thought. I mean, money is just one aspect of it. Ofcourse Charlie sheen, in his own words “brings multiple orgams and a house on the beach” to the table and that alone. While his brother Alan finds it extremely hard to find a date and when he does find one, he is quick to respond with some wedding bells and honeymoon plans. Such a softie…
What I love about the show is ofcourse the two contrasts we get to see in 2 brothers. And how Jake is kinda caught in the middle. How they blame all their problems on their mom who has gone under the knife several times to get a cute tush and loves it too.
Someone once asked me if Charlie sheen was playing himself on the show and it wouldn’t be completely wrong to say No he isnt.. staying drunk and screwing women all day isnt all that different from what we have come to hear about him in his real life, but who cares really. Denise Richards maybe, but she was on the show too a few times and in the ultimate mockery of his own marriage with the lady, she was transformed into a man on the show ( some would think that’s sick, I think it was pretty funny).
Oh and let me not forget Berta… she is the best and Berta knows it all. She is Charlie’s domestic help, but she is really no help, not around the house atleast. I love her, for reasons better not stated. Suffice to say that she is the smartest person around the house. I saw her once fall for a sexy Latino and that was something. Picture Berta in a flowery dress!.. yeah it is funny.
So, I had a good flight watching those seasons all over again. The only bad thing, it kept me from sleeping and that just made my jet lag worse… well screw you Charlie Sheen!!!

Fashionably late

For some unexplained, unknown, unsolicited and unwarranted reason, I have been receiving a fashion magazine in the mail for the past couple of months. Yes, a fashion magazine, with those "what's hot and what's not" sections et all..Now it would be a lie if I said I never did once read cosmo.. however I was always more into the stories and the little silly quizzes that were in there and that was many many years ago. So as it happens, I considered myself pretty fashionable until I happened to flip through the pages of this fashion mag, and suddenly I realized, I might be fashionable but certainly not in the conventional sense. I do not have those big head gears that the models were wearing and I certainly dont have the underwear that goes with my tee shirts that I can walk my dog in. Sigh. So I spent full 20 minutes trying to understand my fashion sense, and if I was 'hot' or was I 'not'
I identified the 3 things essential to any magazine that is claiming to be a leader in fashion trends
1. Make up tips
2. Clothes(or the lack of it)/brand names
3. Slimming techniques( a good butt, enhanced bust etc)
So as always, here is my 20 minute analysis on the subject

FASHIONABLY MADE UP:
I do not consider myself an expert on the topic by any stretch of imagination. Also considering I come from a time when rock music ruled the world and black was the only color. My make up regime is derived from the rock and roll times, black eyeliner, black mascara, black shadow, red lip gloss. And I knew I could wear this look with anything, since black is a neutral color , which means it will pretty much go with anything and everything. However I was amazed at the color palatte splashed across the pages. Blues and greens together with a yellow outfit. Silver eyeshadoes and golden lip colors, rosy cheeks being redefined. Trying to put up a brave face, I tried to follow the tips one expert was giving. So I started with a mineral foundation( whatever the hell that means) on my face, turns out the only mineral in the foundation was some vitamin E oil, leaving streaks all over and ofcourse lots of oil. So now I have a shiny T zone and guess what, the next section talks about how to fix the oily T zone(and a whole range of products promising to do just that). I am beginning to see a conspiracy here. I spent some 10 minutes doing my face and I reached the conclusion, I have the perfect look to go watch a circus. Giving up, I went to basics... a good moisturizer with sunscreen protection.

FASHONABLY BARE:
Baz Luhrmann said "Do not read beauty magazines, it will only make you feel ugly". I dont know about the ugly part, but it did make me feel like I have a completely outdated wardrobe and that for most part I was almost always over dressed. If I wore jeans, shorts were in fashion. If I chucked my jeans(GOD forbid) and donned a pair of shorts, suddenly micro minis were in vogue. And if I dared put on a mini, suddenly everybody was shopping in a bikini top and some old torn out shorts. Where will this all end, I ask the Chanels and Donna Karens. I have never been a big fan of showing too much skin. NO body issues, well none that I care to give much thought to, but I just do not see the point in showing too much cleavage when it is not required. I think somethings should just be left to the imagination, it just make it more scintillating than a flash. now ofcourse our beauty magazine experts tend to think otherwise, why else would we be seeing so much leg and flesh in them?

FAHIONABLY ANOREXIC:
Now beauty has a lot to do with being slim and slender. Fat people cannot be beautiful.. And the beauty mags will go to any length to drive home this point, without being totally overt about it. I mean have you ever seen size 4 models on those pages? I bet you havent and if you have it must be a 'desperate housewives' kinda magazine. There was even a section about "How to get that perfect butt this summer" and there was some crap about eating right and exercising right. I really dont see the point in spending $15 every month to read about what I already know. I mean, if you were telling me I could get a super butt sitting at home doing nothing, I would be more than happy to shell out some change. Another thing to note is that if you somehow decide to buy the kind of clothes that are worn by women in those magazines(you got to be drunk), you have to be a size 0, since they are not made in any other sizes, for obvious reasons ofcourse.

Verdict:
I am not fashinonable this summer, fall or winter...But I am a proud owner of an old Levis dark jeans, a lee top and a gucci bag and a million dollar face (pardon the exaggeration) that needs no more than an attitude.

I get so tired sometimes just listening to cliches and things that are just out there, overrated and exaggerated. So I thought, hmmm.. let me get back to some blogging by being a little bitter and bursting some myths and focus on things that really matter

"Spring brings out the best in me, love in the air lifts my spirits up"
This one takes the cake, especially because I hear it year after year without fail Spring, love and upliftment of spirits go hand in hand. Well, I don't mind the warm weather and all that, but really, I can do without the floral, 'made for spring only' dresses and feeling all lovey dovey. What's spring got to do with being horny? I am just saying..

"I love him/her so much, I dont think I can live without him/her"
Since we are on the topic of spring already, this one just fits in. Love is majorly overrated. You see, I had learnt long ago, the fluttering of hearts, the butterflies in the stomach and those feelings that make you jump up and down with joy are simply made up. You do them out of peer pressure. And because you think you look cute when you do/say those things. And as far as not being able to live without blah blah, I am willing to dare the next person who says that to me, to jump off the building to prove his love for me.(Realizing I have limited my chances by writing this blog)

"Education will make you smarter and secure your future"
Now I hear this being told to those little kids who unknowingly take this to be the ultimate truth and I was one of them. But I know better now. Such BS. I believe myself to be pretty smart*, but there was so much more potential. I mean I could have been a multi millionaire if someone had taught me how to play poker in grade 7 instead of asking me to do recitals. Sigh

* Smart: relatively speaking, In this case matching my intellingence to Albert Einstein

"Blondes are dumb"
Now really, come on, umm....well, Yeah, this one is no myth.

"Smoking kills"
It probably does and I am sure the person smoking knows it to be true too. So shut it. No point stating the obvious, is there?

"Marriages are made in heaven"
And so are my red shoes, right from heaven above. But I do think there is some truth there. Mortals like you and I can't really make mistakes like that, it has to be some sort of divine intervention, or a few rounds of tequila shots.

Well, I am sure you get the drift about the point I am trying to make. However I know there are a few things that really matter, the ultimate truth, no exaggerations whatsoever.

"Money makes the world go round"
Now, how can you not agree with that?

"Beer makes the world go round"
And I know you agree with it.

Lesson learnt, all else is bullshit.. but money and beer. Cheers to the green!

The final hours

Tomorrow this time I will be asleep on board. And 24 hours from then, I will be home. These final hours just seem so long. The excitement is killing me. I just don't like the in betweens.. the travelling part. I wish I could go to bed in Toronto tonight and then when I wake up, I find myself in my bed in Bombay. Alas..
I have been packed for 2 weeks now, but that feeling that I am forgetting something doesn't seem to leave me. I think it's natural and even if I am forgetting something, I can always buy it again. Honestly, it's just me stressed. A born worrier, sigh!.
I have nothing to write today. And I am sure you don't want me to go on and on about how thrilled I am.
On a different note, this vacation will give me some time to reflect on a few things I had going in my head. I will be sorting them out and hopefully when I get back in 3 weeks, I am less of a mystery to myself. A time to introspect and get back at things called 'relationships', rated R.
I will have many stories to tell when I get back.. so long!

The lady wore black today

I have been staring at my monitor for 10 minutes, finally these words coming out. Today is one of those days when you want to write but don't know what to write. Such an uneventful day, but inside I feel like screaming, just looking to release everything that was being held inside all day today. There are several words forming in my head right now, somehow they don't fit in any one sentence. Clearing my thoughts is such a chore. So let me stay away from that for a while.
Today,I would prefer to wear black, it feels dark inside.And I like to tone it up a little. Staying up all night, inside the black satin sheets, dark but smooth. Fingers through my hair, strange eyes piercing through my soul, whispers in my ear, that coarse voice telling me to let go. Feels like sleeping with the Satan himself. I close my eyes lest my secrets are told through them. It's a slow seduction process, but it works everytime I have to fall out of love. He takes me in, working up my brain, inside my head. The shadows pass me by, heartache melting away. Indifference creeping in, soothing my heart, putting me to sleep, silent lucidity.And then without a warning all the pain is gone, a numbness all over. Order from chaos. I now know why did I feel the way I did. But it doesn't matter anymore. I am indifferent now. And the devil has my soul!

Fasten your seat belts

I am anxious these days. I am travelling in about 10 days, and I suffer from travel anxiety. Why, you would ask.. well apart from the imminent dangers of a plane hijack and a plane crash that we face these days, there are invariably certain things that freak me out. Following are some examples:
1. I forgot the change for the cart.

2. Entering the airport, I realize my check in counter is towards the other end of the airport.

3.My suitcases have "going to India" written all over them and it doesn't make it any easier at the Toronto airport.

4. The unfriendly officer behind the check in counter." Why are you going to India" coz officer, right now I look like the picture in my passport right here, and that means I really really need this vacation. Can we please not make the small talk?

5. At the security check, the officer pulling me aside "Mam, you have been chosen for a random security check", Really? Are you sure it isn't because I am brown and because I look like I will be blowing up the plane? But sure, I love security checks.. you will be frisking me, right? damn, can we get that handsome officer over there to do this?

6.Through with security, sitting at my gate, watching people gazing at nothing. That makes for an interesting past time. Like pyschos in a mental ward.

7. Everything at the airport is charged at a premium, as if they did not rip us enough when we bought those expensive tickets. So yeah, a cold sandwich for $10. My mom would have packed some stuff for me to eat, but you know, it's just me.

8.Freaky times when the flight is not on time.

9. 2 sets of people : Business executives, who try to sit away from the rest of us, usually reading WSJ or Bloomberg. And the teenage girls travelling alone for the first time, chewing on gum really noticeably, trying to act real cool.

10. The meaningless announcements, unless they are announcing your flight details. How I wish I could tune the other ones out.

11.Boarding the plane now. 2 possibilities, you either end up sitting next to a really good looking guy and your flight seems shorter than it actually is or you end up sitting with a really ugly guy in which case you just want to pretend to be asleep through out the flight. Forget dinner/beverages, because the moment I open my eyes, I pretty much have to entertain a dumb conversation with a geeky looking guy. Ofcourse the chances of having a dumb conversation with a good looking guy are just as high, but I don't mind that.

12. Trying to tune into my favourite music station, but can never decide on the station.

13. The turbulence.

14.Sitting next to the exit door.

15.The person sitting next to you cannot read/write English, so I end up filling out immigration forms for them, yay me... good deeds never go unnoticed.. apparently.

Sigh... I hope the 20 hours pass by real quick.

Maximum city

On this Sunday morning, while packing for my India visit, my mind invariably turned to the memories of time spent in Bombay. Mumbai, still lovingly called Bombay, the first picture that comes to mind is that of Nariman point and the queen's necklace on a busy weeknight. The maximum city, the city of extremes. City that breathes and accepts you the way you are. A city you either adore or hate it with all you have. You will never hear 'Bombay is an alright city to live in'.
My love for Bombay has grown over the years, almost like the city grew on me. Changing me at times, making me a different person and at other times reminding me of who I was and where I came from. I do not 'originally' belong to Bombay. The word original has a very significant meaning when talking about one's roots in India. I come from a different part of the country, having spent relatively less time in Bombay, but I like to think that's where I belong, because truly there is no other place I could ever belong to. It's like the city complements my personality and lets me blend in.
Coming from a small city, I was terrified when I was told I would be going to Bombay. A city of 14 million people, it's a crazy place at any given time. On top of that I was going to be all alone in the city, living on my own. How was I going to manage? How would I ever be able to find my way through? And more thoughts like those were making a dash in my head. The first few days, I hated the city. I could not grasp why were there so many people there. Where was everyone going and why could it not be less humid. The day I was driven from Andheri west to Nerul( where my college was), and we went over the Vashi bridge, I could smell the sea. My senses came alive. Everything around me was green and cool and that smell! And my college was some view. A picturesque setting, right off the highway. It had rained that day and the hills just behind the college were lush green with little streams running downhill. And I was in love. I did not realize it then ofcourse. The days to come were going to be trying.
Anyone who has lived in Bombay, will know the true meaning of survival of the fittest. From the richest to the poorest, everyone is trying to capture the one thing that is scarce, space. There are few schools, too many students, there are few jobs, too many graduates, so on an so forth. Someone once told me, you can never be out of job in Bombay. You'll find something to do. I am not so sure. The local trains, they are called the lifeline of the city, and rightly so. The traffic in the city is so bad, that people prefer the overcrowded trains. And riding the train is a skill you have to learn. You need to know how to place yourself strategically when the train approaches, so you can push you way in. Once inside, you can let go of any ideas you may have had with respect to cleanliness or hygiene. You will never get so close to anyone unless you are making love( which by the way is not so easy to do in Bombay without your neighbors taking a peek), as you would in that train. On a hot stuffy day, you can smell every unimaginable human odour there is. And then getting off takes an additional set of skills. Rest assured, come sun or rain, you will reach your destination on time.
Most people spend their time devising plots to beat the rush hour traffic, only to realize 'rush hour' is a myth in Bombay. Every hour is a rush hour. You can be in a traffic jam at 3 in the morning.
So why do I love the place with so many people, so much traffic, a city that never pampers you, is so damn hot, doesnt care, is arrogant, expensive to live in, even dangerous for the less smart? Because this is the only place where I can get anda bhurji at 2 in the morning, where I can drive by Nariman point, listening to Hall and Oates and the waves in the sea at the same time. It's the only place where you can crib all day and then forget it all at Toto's over a couple of beers with some amazing people in your life. A place where you choose your sound at Cafe Mondegar, downtown and then catch a late night show at the sterling theatre. After a late night of hard core partying, I can rediscover myself just by driving on the palm beach road. Gossip over coffee at Barista after dinner. Just sit outside The Taj and admire it, wishing I could go inside and spare Rs 300 for a cup of coffee. Shop at shoppers, eat a dosa at shiv sagar and then head to cafe mocha for some flavored hookah, watch the sky change colors, the different shades of black. The only place where the sun shines and it rains at the same time. the only place I don't mind getting wet in the rain. And there are countless reasons to love Bombay.
This is a city that never sleeps. It's been awake for a long time now.Allows you to sleep a good night's sleep, and sometimes you toss and turn in bed, you want to get out this place, because you cant take it no more, and yet you know there is no place you can turn to. There is no way out. Like the song " You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave".. It sticks to you and then you realize, you are almost glad that it does.