tHe uLtImAtE PrOmPt..

This is the last prompt by Preeti Shenoy. This entire experience of writing on her prompts has been an enriching one and I loved it. I'll really miss her prompts:(

 1. If you had Rs.50,000 to just blow up (you have to spend it on YOURSELF. Giving to Charity or buying gifts for others not allowed), what would you spend it on and why?

• A grand sum of Rs.50,000 just to blow up on myself! The very day I have the crisp notes in my purse, I’ll set out for shopping. I am a shopaholic (but still within limits). I have always nurtured a dream of having a closet full of clothes. Clothes suitable for different occasions-the smart wears, the casual wears (to be worn while going out with friends), the party wears and the kurtas to be worn only to the college. Then there are other small accessories I go gaga over like hair clutches, scarves, wrist watches and anything on display, pretty enough to grab my attention.(Oh, I sound so girlish! But I can’t help it.)

• Having satiated my shopping urge, I’ll head to a cozy restaurant along with my friends and have a grand meal. We can go to the nearest theme park and shed the monotony of the entire week. (Well, if paying the bill at the restaurant and buying their tickets in the park is considered as a gift, I won’t do so; after all, I have to spend on myself. Do I sound selfish here?)
• Next thing to do with the money is to go to the best bookstall in the nearest market and browse through a few novels and buy them. Not to leave behind my Medical books-I still haven’t bought my surgery and gynaecology textbooks (With a plethora of books for each subject, one gets confused as to which one to buy)
• Hmm..what more?? Yeah, I have to get a new specs for myself. I have been using the present one for the last 3 years and I just want to have a change of look(If at all a specs can change the way you look). Or I can go for a pair of coloured contact lenses(the ones I use are transparent and the colored ones are costlier and last shorter and need repeated replacing). Or I can get a LASIK laser surgery done to get rid if my 6 year old myopia! (No, that might be far beyond my budget right now and it can wait) Phew! My dreams.

• Why not get a bagful of crafts material and indulge in the work I love. That old uncle in the store has housed all kinds of stuff required for creative work. I may collect a few rectangles of transparent glass, a square mirror, a few packets of glass color, glitters, ribbons, ply board and all other things required to transform my room into a colourful, yet elegant one.
• Having done all this, I’ll get myself a few bars of chocolates, enough to last for a month. My palate will be so satisfied with the pampering, at least for a month!

• If I still have some money left after all this, I will channelize it into my back account( but I doubt if any thing will be left after my shopping spree)

2. Name three of your closest friends (not family or spouse) and say why you love them.

• My friend from class nursery till date-Mousumi. Though we have lost contact over the years after I changed school, I will never forget her. Back then, I used to cry at school a lot .She was the one who held her tiny hand forward in friendship and I never realized then that she was to be my friend forever! Yeah, we played together, shared our tiffins, sometimes fought over silly issues and again made up after sometime. I clearly remember how one day she got rebuked from our teacher for no fault of hers (In fact, I was the one who was responsible for the prank). She stood up taking the blame on herself. That was probably in my 2^nd grade, but some incidents get imprinted in the juvenile mind forever and can never be erased. She was smart, confident and acted as an elder sister towards me. She would be there when I needed her. She would be there to console me when my performance in the test fell below what I expected and I would be there for her too. She and me- we were bound by an invisible thread of trust, a thread too strong to break(evidence being-I haven’t met her for years but yet when I am asked to name my closest friend, the first name that comes to my mind is hers). You taught me a lot about life at a tender age, Mousumi.

• Pranami, my friend since grade 4, is another close friend of mine. She is fun to be with-we share a lot of similarities and we are so open to each other. I still remember how we indulged in long talks and there seemed to be no end to our blabbering, how we used to reply back to anyone who passed any comment on us while we were walking by the road.

• Addie-perhaps I was destined to meet this person. You are great! I like your spirit and outlook towards life. Kudos to your sense of humour ,composure when needed and childishness at times:)  (If at all you are reading this..I like it all)

3. Name three books which have profoundly affected you and which you would recommend to everyone to read.

1.Les Miserables-the first novel on which I had to submit a written review at school. I was touched by the story.

2. Doctors -by Erich Segal.

3. 34 bubblegums and candies( It has so much reality infused into it that I loved it!)

4. If you know for certain that you can never ever fail, what would you attempt to do?

To be a good doctor (yes, that’s what I have been writing as an answer to ‘My aim in life’ of slam books) and if possible, I will love to pursue my hobby of creative writing. But most importantly, a good human being, a great daughter, a great sister and a good friend.

5. What is THE ONE THING that you want very very badly?

I want a happy (and yes, disease-free!) life for myself and all my near and dear ones. And I want this very very badlyJ

rEdiScOvErinG MySeLf.......

Preeti Shenoy's book is finally out. Loved it.Keep writing:)
Today's prompt is a really challenging one.I realize how difficult it is to describe oneself. "Write three sentences about yourself,  first sentence starting with T., second with  E and third with A
(as it spells TEA). If you want to write more, write four more sentences but they have to start with C, A, K and E respectively. (CAKE)"

• T- Thinker. The proof of the fact that indeed I am one is substantiated by another fact that for the past few years, I have been thinking how best I can describe myself (but with very little success)J.
• E-Enthusiastic about the things I enjoy doing. (You should see the ‘lethargic me’ when I am bound to do something beyond my spectrum of interest).
• A-Asset for my family (Me and my sibling constitute two of the priceless possessions of my parents).

 

• C-Carelessness is an attribute of mine and I somehow manage to be more careless when I am asked to be more cautious (Please don’t form an impression that I am that horrible girl who ends up every now and then in the hospital bed for being careless while crossing the road, or while using her electrical appliances or while walking on a slippery tiled floor! We all are careless at times, aren’t we? But of course, unintentionally)

• A-Angry at times, when someone scolds me for no fault of mine or for that matter, when some irritating fellow succeeds in pulling me out of my ‘tolerance and calmness zone’ (otherwise, I am a very sweet person;) Even if I am angry, I rarely indulge myself in not-so-beneficial arguments and gulp the anger down my throat)

• K-Kid at heart, waiting eagerly to see my grown-up selfJ

• E-Exceptional!!(Oh yes! every one under this sun is an antique piece. Right from finger prints to genetic make-up to character and behavior, we are so diverse, thanks to The Creator)J

A stain Of LoVe...

Wishing Preeti Shenoy loads of good luck for her book TEA FOR TWO AND A PIECE OF CAKE. Waiting eagerly for my copy:)

Another interesting prompt by her on the occasion of Valentine’s Day: Can a relationship be like a tea-stain? Why or why not?


10 years have passed. She still looks the same. The same old clothes fit her. Age hasn’t worn her out. She is the same-the same spark of new life when she laughs, her curls resting comfortably on her shoulders, the same gold ring embracing her ring finger, the same old poise and charm. She won’t change. If a decade couldn’t, a year or two don’t stand a chance.

She sits on the stool in front of the dressing table gazing at her own self. The cupboard door is wide open. From the position that she is sitting, she can clearly see the salwar suits, her denims, the neatly hanged shirts and the gorgeous party wears. She hasn’t been able to decide what she’ll be wearing for that evening. They haven’t planned anything as yet. She told him the previous day that they can have a quiet romantic candle light dinner, the recipes prepared exclusively by her. He can come over to her place and they can present the gifts they have bought for each other. But he insisted on going out, so she yielded to his request.


Yes, they have waged minor ‘cold-wars’ at frequent intervals. But every time it ends in their understanding each other much better. No two individuals are alike, she understands that and to keep a relationship alive, respecting each other’s sentiments and individuality is indispensable.


Women are women after all. The cell buzzes and his sms flashes on the screen. Damn! She hasn’t got ready as yet. Worst, she hasn’t chosen the dress she’s going to wear. Rushing to the cupboard, she selects her sky blue denims and the crimson tank top. Perfect! What can be better than this? What has taken her so long to decide? Now she doesn’t have time even for make-up. Not that she needs it. She looks even prettier sans it.


The cell buzzes again and this time she rushes down the staircase, her lustrous tresses jumping as she bounced her vivacious being at every step. Minutes later, she appears in front of him, quite out of breath. She sees him and a slight hug follows.


He notices the strand of big curl of hair playing with her cheek. The hair is let loose and he knows she never applies the so called ‘pan-cake’ on her face. A grey stain stands in sharp contrast to the blue of the jeans. He remembers how she fumbled with the cup of tea out of nervousness on their first date. The red vermilion peeks from amidst the black of her hair. Their 1Oth anniversary. The blue denim with the tea-stain is the most suitable dress she could think of. Some stains are GOOD, aren’t they?:):)

Prevent that thing from DROOPING!!

At the very outset,I congratulate Preeti Shenoy for her latest book TEA FOR TWO AND A PIECE OF CAKE.

Here is yet another exciting prompt by her: There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea.  ~Bernard-Paul Heroux

Talking of trouble, the very first thing that comes to my mind is exam. For a college student (or for that matter, any student), what can be more frightening than occasional tests and assessments which seem to dry out the whole enthusiasm of college life?

Restlessly sitting on his wooden chair, Animesh stares at the opposite wall with an absolute blank look. If somebody asks him, he will promptly utter his favourite one-liner ‘Don’t disturb, I’m concentrating.’ After failing in Forensic Medicine (which is a horrible subject in Medical Science) in the second year final exams, he was to reappear for another paper of the subject the next day. He remembers-in the finals, he wrote his theory paper quite well but the external who took his viva wasn’t satisfied by the definitions that Animesh couldn’t reproduce word by word as per the bible (the Forensic Medicine book). Well, definitions are something which students leave for cramming the night before the viva. Unless you have freshly mugged them, you are sure to fumble and become a target to the sarcasm showered on you by the internals and externals alike.

So, what Animesh exactly is trying to do by staring at the pale wall is to prevent his head droop automatically (he always wonders why the force of gravitation on his nearly empty head is so goddamn overpowering especially during exam time). He tends to fall asleep early during exam days (quite contrary to the common practice of most students of studying non-stop and forgetting the bed during those difficult days). A mosquito swishes past his ear and plants a sweet bite on the tip of his nose. Scratching his nose pink, he looks all the more pitiable. He hasn’t switched on the All-out. At least the tyranny of the mosquitoes will help him battle his sleep, which by now has taken control of his upper eyelids and is gently shutting them down.

Three hours later, the cell buzzes in the highest possible volume (he purposely set the volume high..the reason? of course, to kick him out of his sleep’s territory every time he invades it without his own aching will). A slight shiver and he is up again, reading the sms of his pal- kitna padh liya?yaar, I’m unable to cram these definitions. DEFINITIONS!!God! he hasn’t touched a single definition and these are the real culprits for his failure in the previous exam. He can’t carry on with his ‘on and off’ pattern any longer or he’ll fail again. But, why does he feel so drowsy. He wonders if the dinner that he gobbled down contained any sleep-inducing agent. He rushes to the wash room and splashes a handful of freezing water on his expressionless face. Fixing his gaze at the mirror he mutters in a motherly tone, ‘Animesh beta, not again. You can’t fail this time or the junior that you have been eying to make your girlfriend will soon end up a year senior to you. Do anything but don’t sleep. Just the definitions, you can mug them up in a jiffy.’

Desperate as he seems to keep away his sleep, he thinks hard. Suddenly the ad of ‘Wah, Taj’ flashes in front of his eyes. Switching on his electric kettle, he boils a cupful of water. Dipping a tea bag (he brought one from a hostel mate), he prepares a rich red cup of tea. Oh, the colour itself is so rejuvenating. With each sip, he feels his energy multiplying and sleep disappearing.

To end the story in a positive note, Animesh didn’t fall asleep after drinking the elixir. And yes, he passed!!

Seeing BLACK, Feeling BLUE…

The black ominous crow was the first thing which caught her eye that morning. ‘Crap! Of all things on earth, why did I have to have this bird’s eye view early in the morning?’ ‘Quite obvious, since the damned thing was singing the latest hip-hop number from your music collection,’ pop came the undesirable reply from the other girl. ‘First the caw-caw of the crow and then your rap starts. Well, I can imagine how fantastic a day I am going to have today,’ uttered Aliza, letting the words transform into waves with her mouth wide open, yawning (her mouth opened to such an extent that even an average-sized orange could be well fitted into the cavity, let alone occasional poor flies and mosquitoes which often go for adventurous trips down her gut and can never pay for the return journeys.                 

PS-this is not an exaggeration).

Indian roads, Indian market, or the worst-Indian garbage dumps…each of these places (if not all, at least one of these) harbor an omnipotent sign-our great jet-black crow! Not a great deal, it’s a common sight, easily overlooked. Crow, or no crow..she wasn’t one to bother her head about things like that  but the early morning blaring did give her a headache. The blackberry, her latest gizmo was shining against the backdrop of the black wallpaper which adorned a part of her wall. The sun was at its best and she felt as if she was only inches away from a bonfire, her body draped in a cloak of sweat. A dissatisfied look framed her otherwise ‘not-a-head-turner’ face which suggested that she had been woken up from an unfinished sweet dream. She took a quick shower and wore the white kurta complete with the white dupatta and white loose pajama. She looked as if she was fresh out of a LG washing machine, absolutely clean from the core, the mild deodorant adding to the aroma of purity .Sensing the shortage of time, she planned to grab a quick breakfast in the nearest ‘chai ki dukaan’ where students like her thronged day in and day out. No, calling it just a ‘chai ki dukkan’ would be like defaming it, considering the quantity and quality of customers’ palates it manages to satisfy. ‘A cup of red tea and an omlette, please,’ she shouted to the man who was busy cleaning the next table. With his head, a perfect sphere, flashing a unique sheen, he possessed a rare style statement. The thick vegetation of immense curly hair growing down his cheeks concealed a major portion of his face.  Though Aliza shouted to the man blessed with hairy proliferation, she hoped he did not bring her breakfast to her table. An overtly cleanliness conscious soul, she retched even at the thought of something dirty. In a jiffy, her poached omlette and the steaming cup of tea stood in front of her, thanks to the ‘puwali’ oozing great enthusiasm to serve the customers and the ‘devil-looking’ manager who kept a 24*7 vigil on him. The omlette seemed perfect, the spoon cutting one of the golden edges to enter into the mouth. But, what? ‘What’s this? Can’t you people maintain a little hygiene?’ shrilled her feminine voice against the pleasantness of normal soft talks of the others. The jet-black curly hair shone extraordinarily amidst the slimy white of the egg. ’Yuck!’ She wondered who the source of the ‘hair-garnishing- over-poached-egg’ was and dared to include the hairy sloth in the top-most slot of her list of suspects. Her imaginative neurons forced her to bring into her mind teeming millions of bacteria thriving in his beard and hence in the hair in the egg. No use contemplating or fussing about it, she pushed herself up, chewed a gum(or else, she would throw out just there) and hastened to her institute. Had she not been late, she would have blessed the bald-headed bulb with a zillion curses with her absurdly fast tongue and to add to it all, she was not in a very good mood altogether.

‘White skin-u girl-u girl-u, girl-u heart-u black-u,’ sounded the raucous voice of some pesky ‘nothing-to-to’ boy whiling away his time by the road sitting cozily on his Pulsar.  Eve teasing, a dirty habit plaguing every nook and cranny is like a handful of diseases which can never be eradicated, no matter how hard health workers try. Aliza felt like giving him a ‘black-out’. Her logic failed to reason out why the Kolaveri song gained such popularity among the masses.

Getting into a city bus, she seated herself on one of the dark damp seats next to a burqa-clad woman. Aliza could only guess how beautiful the lady might be when she caught a slight glance of her face while she lifted her veil to get down the foot-board of the bus. In contrast to the angelic beauty, stood the stinking handyman who squeezed his way through the non-existent space in the rickety bus. Loading the already saturated bus seems to be a simple feat for him. Then there are a few who just get into the bus to exercise their finger tricks-better called ‘pick-pocketing’. Once your purse disappears, you can’t help but plead a compassionate looking co-passenger to pay the bus fare for you and get your ATM card blocked(if at all your purse housed your ATM card or debit card or whatever). Forget chasing a suspicious target-that would be an absolute waste of time.

So after finally getting stepped on her feet by many-a standing people in the bus, Aliza managed to land safely on the ground(Reaching your destination safely with all your valuables and belongings intact after a ride in a over-crowded city bus can be considered very lucky). During her college break, she thought it better to mute her growling stomach by treating herself to something edible in the canteen. This time, however, the place was clean and the food met her expectations. Putting her hand into her bag, she searched for her purse. Since I mentioned ‘purse’, the next thing that may come to your mind is that it might be missing. Yes. The purse was nowhere to be found. Another gloomy event to multiply to her woes! Next thing that she did instinctively was-search for her blackberry. She couldn’t lose that one too. It’s only been two days since she became its owner. Drown in a sea of despair, she sat silent (no, she didn’t cry. She was not the crying sort of person) as if she just received a 220 volt shock, sans the lethal burns. She could forget the purse (which had only one or two hundred) but her blackberry would haunt her in her nightmares to come.

‘Oye..where did you leave this behind? Can’t be a tad careful after the last cell you lost, huh?’ One of her classmates held out her cell. Another bolt from the blue in quick succession!She snatched away the cell from his hand and took it out from its cover. ‘Where did you get…’her voice trailed off as she saw a black curly hair attached to the screen of her cell. ‘Yuck’ Pressing a key she saw the image of the bald headed yet hairy fellow, his 32 black gems spread out in a wicked smile (that would put toothpaste companies to shame). ‘That bald waiter in the chai dukaan said that you left it there on the table itself this morning. God, he described you well-wearing thick-rimmed specs, white shiny kurta, plaited dark hair..haha..When I reached there, he came to me and asked me if I could return it back to you. So your secret admirer returns your blackberry to you when he could have kept it for himself or sold it off.’

A bit relieved on getting back her cell, she let out a small laugh. The baldy wasn’t that dirty at heart though, she thought. But one thing she couldn’t understand-why did he click his own photograph by her cell. He appeared like a goon let loose, only to be captured on the police station’s ‘wanted’ posters. The day started with black but ended on a brighter note. Omens, dirt, squalor, unhygienic food outlets, eve teasing, pick pocketing and a concoction of other bleak events but the ‘baldy’ did serve as an effective antidote to the blues.