Back in black!

Ha! I thought I'd lost the urge to blog, but I suddenly realized that it wasn't the feel for blogging I'd lost, it was the time. I'll let you into a little secret. I've always blogged from a Cafe Coffee Day outlet near my office, the reason being that I would relax there for sometime before or after work. And that gave my mind the freedom to wander and the time to pen it down. As I've already mentioned, if you do something you love, it should come effortlessly. For the past few months I've been shuffling between MBA preps and office and gym, with the result being that the minute I reached home, I'd be dead tired. Now that isn't exactly the condition that you wanna write in, is it?

Anyway, I've got loads to write, so bear with me.

Sometime back I caught a pickpocket. All in a day's work y'know :P It was pretty darn good and felt great...almost like I had underwear over my pants and a red towel cape on my back. But what I didn't realize was that these pickpockets are a persistent bunch, and I got reminded of that few days back on my way back from office. My cell phone got flicked(albeit temporarily) thanks to the overwhelming crowd of the Mumbai trains(in a good and bad sense, both =| ) Thankfully I got it back since the jack@$$ had butterfingers and dropped my phone on the train floor. No proof, no culprit. Even though I knew it was that guy who had picked my pocket, I could do nothing about it. Missed the public dhulai again :D

On a different note, I went to Delhi over the weekend for a family event. Most times, family meets are insanely boring, involving fake smiles and greeting people whom you barely even know, but they seem to know you so well. Example in question:

Relative:

1. OH MY GOD! (as if she's about to faint with joy)

2. HE'S BECOME SO BIG!! (seriously, would I stay a foot tall all my life?)

3. WE HAVEN'T SEEN HIM IN AGES!!! (note the gradually increasing number of exclamation marks correspond directly to the volume of her voice.)

4. You probably don't remember us. (See the blank look on my face? DUH!)

5. You were so small when we last met! (Pointing to some place about five centimeters off the floor)

What follows are a series of carefully practiced and expertly executed cheek squeezes and face pats that drain you of your sense of adulthood and drain the blood off your face leaving you with white cheeks and a giddy head. As you walk off wondering what happened for the past few seconds, you hear an excited squeal and your name from across the room and it all starts over again.

*shudder*

But that's just what usually happens. This one was one of those awesome-chilled out-weekend-away-from-home kinda meets. With a considerably younger population than usual, it was kickass!(yea, no censor, How's That!) Good homemade oily fried unhealthy-but-oh-so-tasty food and biryani, lotsa drinks, and dancing on the terrace made for one weekend well spent.

(yea, that's me :P )

Anyone preparing for CAT this year? I started off with T.I.M.E. classes, and it things look good. On the downside, too many things going on in life leaves me little to myself. So I've decided to finally quit(well not exactly quit...more like take a LONG break) from my designing job. That should give me enough time to sort out my day at a better pace. And MBA definitely takes a higher priority than keeing a job at this point of time. So, good decision to me! Yay!

*pats self on back*

Finally, a little something I wrote for a friend in reply to a poem she'd written(she's really good, but doesn't blog...although I've begged her to start one. For stubbornness' sake...sigh...) :P Anyway, read on and enjoy!

We walked along the road, drove on the freeway,
Hand in hand, no fear of going astray,
I thought I knew the road, of the land where we were headed,
I thought the consequences of my actions would have faded,
How wrong I was, for they never do,
They all remain, every word, every move, every step too,
Life is a freefall you say, but what happens when you have no choice,
And you realize it's not the wind that you hear, but your inner voice,
Screaming, pleading you to listen to reason,
Forcing you, pushing you to commit this treason,
To mend your heart you have to break one other,
But it listens to none, for the heart is sure,
It made me realize that our love may not be pure,
But love it is, and not some infatuation,
Of an adolescent mind running wild with passion,
So, as I sit under the stars this full moon night,
I feel you beside me as I linger at the sight,
And on this night, under the stars,
I finished writing a poem on this love of ours...


(Dedicated to Sohalia Shervani)