Competion Aisa Hota Hai

This was emailed to me. I thought you folks might get a giggle out of it.

LOOK AT THE VISUAL BOTTOM TO TOP.
I think you can click on it to make it bigger and more easily readable.

Idher Udher ka inconsequential and gossipy stuff

This is a totally disjointed but gossipy post. I have been commenting on so many blogs that I completely neglected my own. I promise not to do that again.

My punishment?

a)50 Lashes with a very wet noodle?

b)Spanking?

Please say B ... spanking, I might enjoy it more than you want me to. Hehehehe

So here goes my take on all kinds of silly stuff...

Samajwadi party candidate Nafisa Ali, Hottie SRK and Gavaskar's silly debate about cricket and captains and coaches, Miss India's past and present. Bilkul capsule mein. Chota Chota thoughts that I also expressed on another blog.

I will deal with esistential, meaning of life posts later!!!!

Nafisa is a good polo wife. Karisma is becoming a good polo wife. Both are stylish. Both are lightweights at anything else. Enough said. Any questions?

Why did I bring Karisma into it? Frankly I have no idea, but I think Karisma is going to grow up to become Nafisa with more makeup. Really what else can I say about Nafisa and her social activism and her politics. My admiration for her swimming medals, her impressive early forays into writing and the movies, everything is khalaas. Abhi its just bad politics and kissy face with that hot old man Richard Gere.

I dont follow cricket... sorry Baba (my dad follows the game rabidly). I think I stopped following it when the cute looking guys my age stopped playing and got fat.

SRK is a Marwari in disguise. His game is about his brand name. Gavaskar likes the traditional game with white flannels and tea breaks. Never the twain shall meet. The game leaves me cold, so atleast I can enjoy thier sniping at each other. Fight! Fight!

Miss Indias are all bekaar. Boring as hell and with terrible convent school accents. Sabira Merchant as language coach, needs to correct this and then thier diction and speech cadence before Jamuna Pai and Co start "whitening" thier skin. I wish they would all speak in a normal bazaar accent and stop talking about Mother Teresa and world peace. The looks only go so far.

And Sushmita and Ash really were not all that fantastic either. Same crappy mold when they were in the contest. Its what they did with thier fame later that made them stand out.

Ohhh I think I need to go workout to restore my good humor!

More about my workouts later folks. Yes, I am being a good girl. Very good. Making myself a very spankable bottom!

You would think...

that I would update the blog!!!!!!!!

I should and I will.

Today... urrrrmmm.... tomorrow.... I promise I will. Need to catch my breath first.

Let me just say, thank you to all of you who care and wished me solace in these past few weeks. Thank you, I appreciate all your words of wisdom and comfort.

I am all better. We are all better.

I will be back.. tomorrow.

Until then, go get a wild colored and happy looking drink in an outlandish glass and a good book and start your weekend early. All three things are good for the soul.

Bereft

Silenti etc mos usquequaque exsisto memor.
The dead will always be remembered.


My friend succumbed his life to illness today 3.30 AM. I have a huge, huge, huge hole in my life suddenly.

This morning I had two surreal shopping experiences. I was at a grocery store at 5 am to buy Basil (tulsi) to put on his mouth where his last breath came from. I also went shopping for a brand new suit for him to wear for his funeral tomorrow. He looks shrunken inside it already.

Jai Ho!

Does NOT get any cuter than this! Just adorable.

Picture courtesy my most favorite desi style blog.... www.highheelconfidential.com

I was so happy to see Slumdog sweep the oscars. Perhaps it will now be possible to atleast start a dialog about a more democratic society, about the haves and havenots and the deep divide between them.

Congratulations to AR Rahman. What a richly deserved award. Not just for this movie but for his entire body of extra ordinary work

In other news...

Frieda's dress was lovely.

I am glad the desi actors did not wear desi clothes. They wore the clothes that would market them appropriately on a world stage as working actors.

I wish I were skinny and could wear Anne Hathaway's cream pailette sequined dress.

Sophia Loren looked tranny.

Penelope Cruz annoys me and I did not think her role in Vicki Christina Barcelona was worth an award.

Jack Black makes me realise that men who make me laugh are hot.

Sean Penn and his angst is just plain hot and he does not have to make me laugh.

Thats all folks.

Brownian motion, totally random

So now we go on to doing something else other than fixating on the gloom and doom of my last post.

Here is totally frivolous post about random things about me.

I got tagged by DeeplyDip over in Sandy Dubai.

Here are the rules for the tag.

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose people to be tagged. Send the person who tagged you, a link to your tag.

When I tag folks it's because I want to know more about you. Also, I am probably bored of gazing at my own navel and want to gaze at yours.

So .... All my readers and blogdosts (great term though I did not coin it), I tag everyone who can sit down long enough to do it. It is because I want to gaze at ALL your navels.

I will now bare my midriff and you can gaze at my navel now.

1. I can crack all my toes and fingers. Very Loudly. Okay TMI... moving on.

2. I get regular manicures and pedicures. I dont like nail polish on my own very short fingernails but my toe nails are always painted.

3. I am a makeup junkie. I have drawersfull of makeup, mostly unopened. Sephora is my favorite store in the Mall.

4. I own exactly 131 pairs of shoes. Yes, I counted yesterday.

5. My shoes are neatly placed heel to toe in see through boxes. I drill air holes in the boxes. The boxes have to be from Container Store. No other brand will do.

6. My closets are very, very neat. Always. On the pain of death. Yes, death!

7. My favorite chore is scrubbing bathtubs and showers. I do my deep thinking when I am scrubbing. Yes, I do windows and clean toilets too. And yes, I scrub all the bathrooms every single day. I have much thinking to do obviously. Else I am just OCD. Take your pick.

8. I love my Roomba. I really do. I have Roomba love.

9. I love to do laundry. Love it, love it. Something about folding crisp, sweet smelling clothes is very orgasmic.

10. My idea of bliss is rolling around naked in " warm just out of the drier" cotton sheets.

11. My sheets must always be atleast 400-600 count long staple egyptian cotton. Yes, they must be Wamsutta brand and they must be bought with the 20% off coupon from Bed and Bath.

12. I do not buy anything if it is not on sale. And yes, I always look online for a coupon before I shop.

13. I have been called cheap and penny pinching before. It is in my DNA I think. I also married a man with WASP New England parsimony in his DNA. We make a fine pair.

14. I play tennis with little technique but great enthusiasm. I bash that ball very hard. Yeah, not subtle, but effective. Works for most things in my life.

15. I was a competitive swimmer and track athlete as a young teen, and probably had a future in amateur athletics. But then I discovered boys! Being chased by them was more fun.

16. I have been told by more than one person that I am exactly like Elaine from Seinfeld. Yeah, I know that was completely random.

17. I like to cook. I do, I do, just not everyday. Just for fancy entertaining.

18. I like perfume and collect it in droves. Unfortunately, I cannot wear any. The husband is extremely allergic to perfume. I can only look longingly at all my bottles.

19. I am not a trained gemmologist but have been around gem knowledgable people all my life. I can usually tell the quality of gems at a glance. And yes, I like emeralds and diamonds.

19. The husband and I are always looking to add to our collection of folk art from around the world. The collection was started by my inlaws and we are sort of inheriting it.

20. I love textiles and collect them when I can. I especially like to collect antique saris.

21. I desperately want an authentic antique parsi garaa sari. I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want. I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want. You can tell I am desperate. I already have the emerald brooch to wear it with.

22. If you want me to like you, show me good manners and remember to say thank you and please. I dont like boorish people and will cut you off in a second. Yep, superficial that way.

23. I am very involved in womens issues and legislation. I am involved in the political life of my little town. Yeah, mostly as the crazy woman with the imposible demands and loud voice at Council meetings!

24. I once saved a friend from drowing. Yes, really. Pulled her out of the sea, pumped water out of her and all that drama.

25. I am a cancer survivor. Yes, survivor. So everyone dont forget to self exam your entire body and get all the preventive checks you can! Eat cabbage, and carrots and broccoli and love yourself!

Heavy

Heavy with love, with guilt, with regret, with happiness.

A male friend is terminally ill. At the hospital a few days ago, I sat all day at the foot of his bed amidst beeping machines and tubing and needles and the detritus of modern medicine. We whispered to each other, gaining mutual comfort by reminding ourselves of our connection through childhood, adolescence, young adulthood and careening through careers and marriages. We talked of the good times and the disasters that befell us. We talked about my longstanding marriage and children and his brief trainwreck of a marriage. We talked of significant things and frivolous things. We talked about career worries and how he regrets not taking the path less travelled. As long as I have known him since the age of ten, he had secretly wanted to do something with his innate artistic ability. Instead he became a physician... a healer. Ironic though, a physician who cannot save himself now. We laughed a bit and also cried. We cried a lot actually. He said that he had end of life issues to resolve and I had to know something. He told me that he has been in love with me for years, decades even.

I am left a confused mass of feelings. Rib crushing emotion that does not allow me to process except the basics.

Is regret allowed? My regret for crossed signals in my heady rush to embrace life as a young adult. My regret for not stopping long enough to hear what my gut was saying to me. For not being there when he needed to be understood by me. My regret that he never said out loud what needed to be when the time was right. My regret for thinking that I knew him, when I did not. My regrets for... I am not even sure what the regrets are for anymore.

Wondering with curiousity at what might have been. Is this even allowed?

What is allowed? Now. Today and here as I watch his tenous hold on life becoming weaker; as he deals with unending pain. His death is hastening as he is no longer accepting treatment.

In the most fundamental of ways I never understood him. My best friend but I did not know him. Is regret allowed for not really knowing him?

Is telling the husband about this new knowledge allowed? To what end?

Is guilt allowed for wanting to return the same measure of love while he is still here. But to what end?

However yesterday surrounded by the glow and warmth of friends and family as we enjoyed a celebration valentines dinner... my children by my knee and the husbands arm around my shoulders, I smiled. I was surrounded and carried aloft by so much love, even his. Yes, even his. I will accept the secret burden of his love because because it is his gift to give me. My new secret love. My best friend who I will have to part with soon.

Dense and heavy. His love. His gift to me.