A very girlish post!!

Author: crasiezt

To look beautiful (apart from the natural beauty shit) you need to shell out a lot of dough. Sure, there are cheaper versions too, but the result may not be too good, or even disastrous for that matter. But then again, money doesn’t guarantee good looks either!!

I’ve always had wavy hair. The shorter I wear it, the wavier it looks. Straight hair struck me as boring. Wavy suited me loads too. But one day, on a whim, I got my hair straightened (temporarily). It looked wow! And from that day on I got restless. The devil took over my little brain saying “get a permanent job done”. With the straightening bug in my blood I had no choice but to give in to the temptation. I sold my soul to the devil, bowed down to him, and headed to the salon.

A friend suggested “Spratt”. So I landed there. It’s a unisex place, pretty big and sprawling. Most of the beauticians were Chinky (no offence meant. They are the best in the business). One of them came up to me, and I told her what I wanted done. A conversation ensued; she gave me details about the procedure, and some of its after effects. Convinced that my hair will look awesome at the end of the ordeal I agreed to go ahead.

That’s when the gruelling process started. My hair was subjected to so much torture- several washes, conditioning, tons of chemicals, hot ironing (involves pressing sections of hair between 2 electrically heated rods), blow-drying, and all that jazz. The worst was the stink (practically took my breath away). And to top it all, the ironing!! When a temporary job is done it’s alright. But ironing is done with much more force and fervour for a permanent look. My hair was screaming in pain each time it was tugged at, and there were several such screams, which alas only I could hear.

I sat in that chair as 4-5 people worked on my hair at the same time (trust me you don’t feel special or pampered), growing more and more irritated with every passing second (Sid can vouch for that!).
Finally, after about 4 hours it all came to an end, and there emerged a gorgeous babe! Praising myself at this juncture might not be right, but my hair really did look rather stunning:D

Beauty comes at a price...but it’s not just money that you spend. It’s a mental and physical investment as well. An investment that seems justifiable only if you get compliments: not just from people you know, but appreciative glances/stares from strangers:D A cute guy crashing his car into another just because he was so smitten by your looks...kind of makes your day doesn’t it? LOL!!



Author: crasiezt

What is love? Friendship, commitment, trust, loyalty…all of it…and more? Have I experienced it? Yes! Did I like it? Loved it! But what did I get in return? A bouquet of fakeness, pain, tears, doubts, anxiety…good moments too, but the negative overshadowed the plus points…
Moral of the story: give yourself completely, but don’t trust someone blindly. ‘Cause when there is light and you see the real picture it hurts so much, you never wanna open your eyes again.

But how long can you shut your eyes? You open them one day. And that’s when you realize there’s more to the world than some moronic loser who was humping other babes behind your back, assuming you’ll never find out! Your friends are around, your family’s there for you, and most importantly, you’re a stronger and much sensible person now. You make new friends, cutting strings with those you don’t want in your life. You relearn how to have fun without alcohol running through your veins; you discover the sheer joy of just lying in someone’s arms…

You understand the importance of emotions, and the fact that they’re really precious to be wasted on just about anybody. You wonder if being “cool” and “dude” like is important, or is being “nice” more essential.

The mind plays games with you like never before, throwing up surprises and puzzles at you so randomly that you have no time to analyze your thoughts and actions. But still, take some time out and ponder. You’ll see how happy, relaxed and comfortable you are just being yourself. No pretence. No lying. No hiding. No fury. No angst…just you and a huge bucket of happiness. Peace!


My first day!

Author: crasiezt

Clean white sparkling
Dreams in my eyes
Glimmer of hope.

New place, people
No desktop/laptop
Hunger strikes!

Phone in front
Ass on chair
Sitting in a corner.

Hustle bustle
Some noises
Ah! My first day!!


I turned 24. 27 Nov '07. I'm old. I mean older. I don't feel older though. It's the same me-I still crack up at the same nonsensical stuff, I'm still scared of the dark, I still take a (really) long time in the shower...then what's different? (I have a new job yes, but that's besides the point). Nothing. It’s just another number. Just another excuse for relatives to talk about my marriage. Just one little change on my Orkut profile...

Then why the fuck am I so freaked out? Why is this transition from 23 to 24 making me feel so totally weird? Even the sound of this number "24" in my head seems harsh and cruel. Why am I so worked up about "just a number"? Beats me!



This post can be about anything. There is so much happening in my life right now. I can write about how it is to be staying with my sister. I can blabber the truth about how I found out what a cheating piece of shit my ex boyfriend was. I can express my amazement at the fact that his ex girlfriend still talks to him. I can confess that am in BIG trouble at the moment (financially). I can put down what I think of “Saawariya” in 1000 words...

But no, I won’t. I’m feeling a little sentimental, vulnerable, nostalgic,… If I can write about my fucked up love life, I should also write about my existing happy life! It’s been a couple of months since I broke up, and am dating someone now. Yes! I am:-)

There was a time when I could have done anything for my guy. I was actually considering getting a Brazilian wax for him. But the sissy that I am, I didn’t. I should have. Not for him. Just for myself…And yes, from now on it’s gonna be all about me and my happiness. Hehehe not really. Am not a selfish pig. Arrogant and crazy yes, but not selfish.

People usually give thank you speeches, but I wanna give a sorry speech. I wanna say sorry to the guy whom I didn’t treat right. The one who was with me all the time, but I just shunned his love and walked on. I know he’s gonna read this blog sometime, and even though I said sorry to him quite recently, I still wanna apologize for breaking his heart. Am sorry for being such a bitch beifoof! (I could use the same speech for a lot of people, but am not about to do that. He’s the only one that deserves it).

So here’s something that I put together for the man in my life. For my friend, for my lover:

We’ve crossed paths quite recently
But it feels like I’ve known you forever
You care for me so much, shower me with your love
But do I deserve it?

I love the way you hold me touch me caress me
The look in your eyes turns me on
My nerves tingle with anticipation as you draw me closer
Your lips part, your eyes close…

What do I want from you?
Companionship, lust, friendship, or love?
Can you assure me any of these?
Can you always be there for me?

You’re an important part of my life
For now and forever
But that’s what I think
And I’ve been wrong before…

Somehow this feels right
I can’t name this relationship
Or even call it one for that matter
But I love it!



Author: crasiezt

I used to think women are bitches. I don’t think so any more. I know!!! Case in point: my roomies, or should I call them my ex-roomies already? They were simply not ready to accept the fact that one of them could have nicked my stuff! Kept accusing me of not keeping my things locked up! So if my stuff isn’t locked, you have the right to pick it up eh? Fucking bitches all of them. I dunno whom to doubt now; each is as likely as the other. And one of them has the nerve to tell me that she makes enough money to buy the best brands from the biggest shopping malls! The stupid cunt couldn’t understand that it is exactly this that appalls me! If you have so much dough, why the fuck did you take my clothes? All of us have BIG BUCKS here…then why steal my lip gloss??? They’ve got shit for brains. Whoever has stolen the stuff is a loser, and will pay for it, the bloody whore.



Author: crasiezt

Someone commented on a post of mine, saying that I write well *takes a bow*, but perhaps I should try a different style. Then it struck me that maybe I should try my hand at poetry!

This is not my first poem though. I’ve written loads in school, and then later as well. Here’s one stanza from a poem that I had written on a train journey few months back, about an old man who borrowed my copy of the “Cosmopolitan”.

Uncle is old
Loves babes that are bold
To hold-
Become hot from cold
And unfold
What is told
About girls that are bold!

Ahem! That should give you an idea of the kind of poetry I used to indulge in previously. A 10-year old would probably write like that. LOL

Well, that was that. Here’s another attempt. Emotional, sentimental, blah blah, but from the heart…

Am I lonely? Am I weak? Or am I just plain confused?
I loved you. I loved you a lot. Love gave me nothing but pain

Then I hated you. That didn’t give me any peace either
I tried to forget you and move on. But even there I failed.

I hear your voice calling out to me from the dark corners of my mind
I feel your hand brushing against mine as I walk through the corridors of our past
I smell your nicotine-induced breath on my face as I’m lying on my bed
I see you flitting from dreams to reality, getting lost somewhere in the transition.

What did I do wrong? Nothing. Then why does my heart ache?
I’m happy, but still there is a void, that none can fill
I wish more than ever that I wasn’t here
That I was in a different world, far far away.


What is it with people and wanting to steal stuff from others huh? This new place am staying at, (I think it’s been about a month now) is fine, but some bitch has stolen my stuff! Yeah, and not like a thing or two, but loads of stuff: clothes, cosmetics, and something as cheap as scrunchies! It’s definitely not the maid, coz she obviously wouldn’t have the time to pick stuff out of my suitcase. And then why would she pick out party wear? Why would she take my silver and green eye liner?? Has to be one of the gals I’m staying with. *Green fumes emitting from nostrils*

One thing that I can’t sort of understand is why they would take my clothes…none of them would be able to fit into my tops or skirt. Have they given them to their slimmer friends or relatives? I’m seething with fury; on the verge of pulling my hair out, no wait why mine??AM GONNA KILL THAT BITCH IF I FIND HER …

There was one top amongst the lot that I’ve never worn, not once! Fuckin new…and given by my pals in Hyderabad:-( And now the whole problem is that I don’t know how many more things are missing. It is only when am looking for a particular skirt that I figure it ain’t there any more. I realized for the first time that it is bad to have too many clothes…so many that you don’t even know when some go missing! I was in such a foul mood, that when I went out last night, I went ahead and did a spot of shopping!

My task for today will be to speak to all 5 flat mates, and with their permission search their belongings. I know am not gonna find anything there, but at least it will give me the satisfaction that I did something. And it goes without saying that am gonna move out of that thief’s den ASAP.


Author: crasiezt

19 things nobody wants to know

I had nothing extraordinary to post, and since Gonecase had tagged me, I thought I might as well "do the needful" LOL.Here are the answers then...

1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it
I have this one on my right leg, a couple of inches above my knee. How did I get it? My evil temper did me in..was darn pissed with my bro about something, and for some reason I was trying hard not to strangle him. But then you gotta vent your anger out on something/someone right?? I had a pencil in my hand just then, so I drove it into my leg..gave me a permanent scar! Psst.. I was probably 10 years old then. I don't harm myself any more. I'm not a psycho:D

2.What does your phone look like?
N72. Fine phone. Looked awesome when it was new. Poor thing has fallen so many times, been sat on, has innumerable scratches; it has been through the thick this one!

3.What is on the walls of your bedroom?
Ah! If my roomie relents there will be a HUGE red Ferrari poster, but right now the walls are bare, bland and immensely boring.

4. What is your current desktop picture?


5. Do you believe in gay marriage?
Marriage is marriage. Gay, lesbian whatever. I might not be a homosexual, but who am I to say what other people’s sexual preferences should or shouldn’t be? It’s a free society!

6. What do you want more than anything right now?
World peace! No, actually a different job that will make me feel like am doing something worthwhile with my life, plus will pay like crazy too! (Sorry about the “world peace” thing..but the opportunity was just too good to miss!)

7. What time were you born?
Dunno the exact time, but around 10 am on a Sunday. Is that why I’m such a sloth?

8. Are your parents still together?

9. Last person who made you cry?
Someone who didn’t deserve my tears, or anything else from me for that matter.

10. What is your favourite perfume/cologne ?
Echo Woman, Davidoff and Dream Angels, Victoria’s Secret. (I know it was supposed to be one, but I like both!)

11. What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?
Never really thought about that. Doesn’t matter actually.

12. What are you listening to?
Johnny Gaddar. Awesome sound track!

13. Do you get scared of the dark?
Kinda. Sometimes.

14. Do you like pain killers?
Oh yes! They’ve saved me from suffering excruciating pain after a whole night of dancing!

15. Are you too shy to ask someone out?

16. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
Hmmm that’s difficult, but I guess Hyderabadi chicken biryani. Ages since I had good biryani…Bangalore sucks:-(

17. Who was the last person who made you mad?
I guess the same person who made me cry…

18. Who was the last person who made you smile?
Someone who sent me a really dirty forward:D

19. Is someone in love with you?
There was a time when I would have written a vehement “yes”, but now I really dunno what to say…

Rohit, you're tagged!


More Awwwwww...

Author: crasiezt

Oct 2nd 2007: India lost today. But that’s not the reason why am feeling so perfectly miserable. This empty, lonely feeling has nothing to do with the fact that Yuvraj Singh couldn’t do anything to save India from being demolished; forget the team, he couldn’t even save his own ass! The cause of my shittiness is: am going back to Bangalore:-(

I’ve been here for a year now. But it doesn’t feel like home. Not one bit. I yearn for Hyderabad. A lot. When I reach Hyderabad, I feel “Yipppeeee am home!” When I get to Bangalore I’m like “Great… Am back!” *in the most morose voice ever*.

Why don’t I go back there then? Ah! I don’t want to. I wanna be on my own for sometime. Living away from home teaches you so much. Right from paying your own bills, to ironing your clothes, from nursing a bad hangover to recovering from a sour relationship. Life here is a lot of fun. I’m not exactly answerable to anyone. I can do what I like (well almost). I make enough money to sustain myself *cough cough*, and indulge in a lot of, what other people call frivolous, activities.

My mom doesn’t cry when I leave, but I can tell what she’s feeling when she’s waving to me as the train (with me in it, obviously) leaves the platform. My dad doesn’t have to say he’s gonna miss me when I’m gone; his hug says it all. Fiddi and Radhi don’t need to say “Neha you’re an ass for going away,” but they still do:D

The past 3 ½ days have been more than awesome. I’ve eaten and slept so much that my parents are beginning to think that I don’t indulge in either activity while I’m in Bangalore! I’ve had long chats with mom and dad, about my future, about how I ward off pesky guys hitting on me, about Hyderabad’s chief minister, about my current and ex-roomies blah blah.

I met Munmun this time. She’s lost 11 kgs!! If I lost that much weight people would have to ask, “Neha, are you in the room? I think I can sense your divine presence.” Hehehe.

Met Radhi and Fiddi too. Obviously! They loved the stuff I got them (identical kurtas from “W”), and I completely adore what Radhi got me (again, a kurta from W). I also bought some more stuff from the same place. Girly, pretty and so beautiful!

Fiddi’s birthday is round the corner- 6th October actually (which I found out after I asked Radhi. I knew it was either 5th or 6th). She took the both of us to this swanky place called Zafraan Laguna, where we had a sumptuous lunch and ripped off the poor gal! I think that was the first restaurant I’ve been to that doesn’t serve sweet corn chicken soup! So we had chicken minestrone soup instead, which was really wow! Main course was really neat too, and so was the fresh lime soda (don’t snigger! How many times have you gotten a perfect FLS in a restaurant? It’s usually too salty, or too sweet), but the show-stealer was the home-made chocolate that we were given at the end of the meal. Crispy, crunchy and soooooo chocolatey! I just had to ask for more, and I did:D Missed the saunf (‘saunf’ is ‘aniseed’ for you angrez out there) though…hehehe.

Since am in a foodie mood…ate haleem today. Courtesy: Fiddi’s mom. She’s so completely sweet, and the way she calls out to Fiddi to take my call is stomach-intestine-liver hurtingly funny! (I know Fiddi’s gonna kill me after this, but it was worth the risk!) Mom made awesome aloo-gobi today, plus there was Fiddi’s ghar ka mirchi ka salan. Looking forward to dinner now…parathas with bhindi and salan…Sluuuuurp!

Ooooh I forgot to add one detail. I’m in the train now, and the same noisy kid is here too, albeit not close enough for me to appreciate his screeching prowess. After I had finished writing my previous blog he started screaming all over again. I simply couldn’t take it any more, and had a long argument with his mother. Result: he was silenced, but the next morning nobody woke me up at the station. Luckily it’s the very last stop, so no harm done. A porter woke me up, and a very disoriented and confused me picked up my bags and got off the train, all the time abusing (silently) the discourteous woman who didn’t bother to wake up a poor little hapless babe!



Author: crasiezt

Friday, 28th Sep ’07: I’m going home! After 2 months. Maaaaaaan I miss my folks. Everything about home is “missable”. Right from rajma chawal to fighting over the TV’s remote control. From mom’s constant yelling about how messy my room is, to dad’s habit of giving me the bigger portion of an apple. From mom’s anxiousness when I come home late (at the time I didn’t have a cell phone) to my “cricket conversations” with dad.

And of course there’s my bro Ankit alias Anteekh. I didn’t mention him ’cause he aint at home now. He’s in Goa, studying. I miss him loads too. He’s 5 years younger than me, but gets transformed to a much older version the minute I do anything silly (which happens bloody often). I go home once a month. But I don’t get to meet him too much. Last time we met was in July! No matter how old he gets, he’ll be the same kid I used to beat up (“maul” would be a more appropriate term to use I think). We’ve come a long way…from being at loggerheads over everything, to sharing every little detail about our lives (well almost!!).

It takes about 11 hours to get to Hyderabad by train. I left office several hours in advance; coz with Bangalore’s predictably fucked up traffic I didn’t wanna take any chances. Rajat offered to drop me, which was a very sweet thing to do. We took a Volvo to the station, and just as we were about to reach our destination I spotted a KFC on the road! A chicken lover that I am, it was impossible for me to walk away without guzzling down some delectable fried chicken.

Rajat was apprehensive, even though we had a lot of time on our hands. But I’m like that. If I want something I want it. Right then. Right there. Sensing that there was no point in arguing with an adamant Neha, he agreed and we went in. One word for what we ate: DIVINE! After ice creams, if there is one thing that I could kill for, it’s gotta be chicken. Post the chicken-eating-session we had a brownie sundae. It was delicious, but my mom makes it better:D Stomachs full and with a content look on our faces, we left the place and got to the railway station.

My ticket wasn’t confirmed. I was to share my seat with a guy, whose name was printed as “Manoj Ch” (I was wondering what the expansion of “Ch” could be…LOL) on the chart. Even as I’m writing all this, the kid nearby is switching the lights on and off, which is driving me nuts. I have nothing against kids, but it’s really pissing off when they do such stuff and their parents don’t stop them. It might be “cute” when the kid does it at home, but not outside when strangers are exposed to their extremely irritating behaviour. In such situations I realize what my parents might have gone through when I was a kid…coz from what I’ve heard about myself, I was like Satan in the making!

OK now I have a seat for myself. Tucked under a blanket, listening to “Flipsyde” and writing this blog I feel good! I just wish the kid would stop screaming his lungs out. If he doesn’t stop in the next few minutes am gonna slap him real bad…Aaaaaaand he’s back to the on-off game. Grrrrrrrrr! Obnoxious rascal (not meant in the slightest loving way). Kids are a fucking pain in the ass sometimes. I’m gonna adopt a 20-year old some day. (I’ve had this thought in my head since the day I saw what my cousin had to go through during her pregnancy). No giving birth to a crying, pooping, screeching imp. *That comment of mine is definitely bringing me a nomination for “the insensitive pig” award this year. Or perhaps the award goes to me?*

The kid’s silent now. Lull before the storm is it? After gorging on biscuits, chips, fruit juice, a couple of chocolates and some rice, my tummy’s kinda full, though I wouldn’t say no to butter chicken and butter naan…hehehe…*The Punjabi in me wakes up sometimes*.

Time to turn in. Yaaaaaawn! Good Night!


Went clubbing with Ina and Sid on Saturday. Location: Athena, Leela Palace. One of the finest party places. Fantastic music, amazing bar tenders, really neat ambience (Fuga’s got better ambience though), and a great crowd. So we were there, dancing and having fun, when Ina spots my ex-boyfriend (feels weird referring to him as that, but that’s the way it is!) and tells me. I spun around, and yes there he was, with 2 other people: a really good friend (guy) of his and half a date (ahem! For those of you who didn’t get it, I said “half” coz she was so short it seemed like she had left half of herself someplace else!!).

Seeing him dancing with some other gal should have made me jealous, but surprisingly, I wasn’t. In fact I felt smug…considering the fact that I was looking so HOT (am a narcissist, so praising myself is acceptable) and she looked like crap (not denying that she did have a pretty face. Just that she didn’t have “it”). Dunno if I would have felt differently had she been a hot chick…

Then Ina begins checking out this dude dancing pretty close to us. Really fine guy he was. Both of us were crashing into him on purpose, trying to attract his attention. But somehow he was getting irritated. Which is when we noticed that he seemed to be more interested in guys than gals!! Poor Ina was really hoping to hit on him, and he turned out to be a homo:P Such is the irony of life...the guys who hit on you are not too good, and the ones that are, are gay:-(

We danced so much that my feet were aching a bit in the 3-inch heels. Sid dropped us home (after a long drive) and Ina and I stayed up for a couple of hours doing some girl talk, talking about our fucked up love lives, work, home, movies, music, blah blah. She left early the next day. I was sleeping like a dead log, and woke up only in the afternoon. Somehow got up, got ready and went for a movie ("Vacancy,"so gripping sometimes that I dropped popcorn all over myself! Pathetic ending though), then had dinner and got back.

By then everything had turned topsy-turvy. Without getting into the details, all I’m gonna say is that we had a fallout with the house owner, and decided to vacate the flat. I was telling my roomies for a really long time that we should move out of that place. They had absolutely no inclination. So we continued to stay there, in spite of the fact that the owners were such mother fucking creeps. But finally the crap got to them too, and the decision was made.

We were gonna be homeless very soon!

Then last week I had some trouble with my roomies. They’re nice people. Caring and affectionate. But conservative. They wanted me to get home early at night. No staying out after 11!! Now that isn’t possible for me. Weekends I get back really late. Which is not alright with them. My folks have never questioned the way I live, coz am not a kid any more. I’m 23 (almost 24 to be honest) for god’s sake and I’m responsible for my own actions.

Parents can’t be our babysitters forever, can they? Even if they can, they shouldn’t. After a point they should step back and let their kids take charge of their lives. Of course they’re always there for us, but not to tell us what to do when and how. So when my parents are OK with what I do, I don’t understand why my roomies have a problem. And I’m not the kind you can tie down to a post and beat up. So the only solution was that we discontinue as roomies.

They were furiously looking for a place to stay, and I was complacent somehow. I had decided that I will devote the weekend to house hunting. Kaput went my plan, for instead of trying to put a roof on my head, I took off to Coorg!

Yupp that’s what happened. Five of us were gonna drive to Nandi Hills, but instead we decided to go to Coorg. I don’t know how far it is, but it took us around 7 hours to get there (including breaks). The place is beautiful beautiful beautiful. I’m in love with it. It’s sooooooo green and clean! The absence of a traffic jam and oodles of polluted air made me realize what a fucked up city Bangalore is. I’ve always known that this place sucks, but it’s only when you experience something so divine that it hits you like never before.

We went to this one place, Talcauvery (pardon me if I’ve got the spelling wrong), that is supposed to be the origin of the river Cauvery. What a place man! We were walking in the clouds! It wasn’t fog that we were seeing, but clouds. (See the pics) It was raining, and we were cold. But that just made the whole thing ten times more enjoyable…Talcauvery is up on a hill, winding paths, steep roads, the works. The drive was awesome, but on the way back down visibility was almost zero. It was difficult to see beyond a couple of feet… How we drove back in those conditions, added to the fact that one amongst the group was being violently sick, is anybody’s guess!

We went to a coffee plantation. We saw black pepper hanging off trees. Saw greenery all around. Played in a pool of water where elephants take their bath. Ate at a restaurant that had dirty spoons (just one was, which we got exchanged for a cleaner version). Devoured “Hajmola Imli” and “Orbit” like there’s no tomorrow. Saw the Australia-India semi final Twenty-Twenty Cricket World Cup match with vodka and chips. Stuck our heads outside the car’s window as it rained, (while the car was in motion) and felt the needle-like piercing as the rain slashed our faces. Pleasurable torture! Need I say more???


Starting point: Horribly fucked up traffic jam on Friday morning. End point: taking a bleeding guy to the hospital on Sunday night.
Under normal circumstances it doesn’t take more than 30 minutes to reach office. But last Friday was like a disaster waiting to happen. It took like almost 3 hours… I could have reached another city in that time! I’ve never felt more frustrated and helpless in my life. My legs felt so cramped that when I finally got off the bus it was as if I had forgotten to walk. It took a few minutes to get some feeling back into my almost senseless legs…I reached office at around 11 am, and even after that I simply couldn’t get myself to work. What a splitting headache!!

Left early as I didn’t wanna get caught in another jam. (Hope my boss doesn’t read this!). A friend (Rajat, whom I love calling PINGU) and I took the bus at 5. It was raining. In fact it had been raining like crazy since Thursday, which is what caused all the commotion in the first place. Bangalore’s infrastructure is worse than pathetic. A little rain and there is a jam! You can only imagine what happens when it’s raining continuously for several hours. So, the both of us got off in the middle of nowhere, only to realize that we were very close to Ina’s (a very good friend of mine. Crazy in a very adorable sort of way) office. She was supposed to come over to my place that night, so I thought I might as well pick her up from there.

I called, she came out and we kept waiting for an auto. What a wait that was…either the auto wallahs refused to go, or were asking for so much that I felt like punching them. Walking wasn’t an option, as Shoppers’ Stop (we were gonna do a spot of shopping there) was a little too far away, the road was flooded, and we weren’t in the mood to wade through all the dirty water. With no other option left, we took a local bus. It was really packed; we got in nevertheless.

Now, the first few seats are reserved for women (just some of the many privileges we enjoy). And as I entered the bus I noticed two guys sitting on one of the seats. I went up to them and asked them to get up. One guy’s friend or whatever, who happened to be a woman, was sitting in the seat right in front along with another lady and her three very irritating kids. She got up and sat in the seat vacated by this person. Really mean I would say, but I let that pass.

The other person sitting there continued to be in the same position. This angered me a bit, and I asked him to move it. He pretended to be stone deaf, and kept looking out of the window. The nerve some people have! I was being rather civil until then, but after a point I just got really mad. My “tiny anger” turned into something bigger, and I tapped him on the shoulder pretty hard, clicked my fingers at him and asked him to get up. The language I used cannot be discussed here. I know I was really rude, but then that jerk deserved it.

So I sat there, and kept passing rude comments on how disgusting I find this attitude. Ina and I were having a ball of a time, saying nasty stuff about men like him. The woman sitting beside me ultimately got so pissed that she got up! Good for us though. Now Ina could sit beside me *smile smile*. And then we started bitching about people around us, without even bothering to keep our volume low…Loved it:D

Finally reached Shoppers’ Stop. Pathetic stuff. Either I didn’t like anything, or the stuff I liked wasn’t available in my size!! No wonder my friends ask me to look in the kids section…I did find one top at the end of all the mad hunting. And it was my size too! I tried it on, and it looked sooooooo smart (tube top, in a wow green). But alas! It turned out to be defective. Just my sodden luck eh? But I was so determined to buy something that the hunt restarted. Finally found some nice jewellery. Bought that, while Ina picked up a nice black top.

We had decided we’ll spend the night at a friend’s place (Siddharth, the very lovable Gonecase). We headed to my place, so I could change into my night clothes. My roomies, Preeti (sweet gal with a HUGE talent for PJs) and Garima (the excessively thinking one) were at home, so we were chatting for a while. Ina, Sid and I were gonna go clubbing the next day. I had bought a really hot outfit for the occasion, which I showed Ina. She wanted me to wear it and show her. I did that.

Now, my roomies are a little conservative, but they’ve never objected to any of my party wear before. I really appreciate the fact that though they don’t wear skimpy clothes, they never even tried to tell me that I shouldn’t. We respect each others’ ideologies, which is very important if you wanna live harmoniously in one house. Or there would be cat fights everyday!

But this Friday was different. They simply hated my dress (short, halter necked dress, in a beautiful blue colour, and a plunging neckline). They thought it was too short. Short it was, but I was OK with it. They tried real hard to convince me that I shouldn’t wear it. But I loved the dress and saw no harm in wearing something as sexy as that. After a lot of arguments they had to accept defeat. I decided I was gonna wear it the next day.

Ina and I headed to Sid’s place. She was supposed to cook chicken for us, but it was past 10 and we were damn hungry. Ordered Chinese food, while we got started on “Saw3” (bloody and gory. Didn’t like it too much. Predicted the end also). Then it was “Scary Movie 2” (Crap. But liked it) and “Scary Movie 3” (Equally bull shitty and equally likable too). Tired and exhausted we crashed at a time when people leave their houses for a morning walk.

P.S: Read the next post to know what happened on Saturday and Sunday!


My chaddi-buddy HEMANT

Author: crasiezt

We’ve known each other since the days “Moral Science” was a subject in school, from the days we used pencils to write, from the time “Chitrahaar” was the reason we existed…

I remember how he loved watching the news on the television, and his sister (Vasu) and I hated doing that. I mean come on, how can a barely 10 year old find a boring news bulletin so engrossing? So Vasu and I would make sure he doesn’t get to watch it:D Irritating him was so much fun…we would dance in front of the TV, obstructing his view and bugging him endlessly. That exasperated look on his face was priceless! The ensuing fight was worth a billion bucks…Then this one day he was sitting in front of his house, with his hands in the mud. And there were ants crawling up his arms and back down without biting him! He invited me to do the same, but alas! The ants weren’t as kind to me, and I got bitten BAD! Grrrrrr…

We used to spend so much time together. My mom used to drop me off at his place when she had to go somewhere I couldn’t or wouldn’t go. And his mom used to do the same. We’ve eaten together, fought, screamed, beaten up one another…This one time he slapped me just because I ruined a picture that he drew. It was a cat that didn’t even look remotely like one. I crumpled up the paper and threw it. Slap! I was so stunned. I could have slapped him back, but I adopted a very cheap tactic, saying I’ll tell his mom! Emotional blackmailing is the best and deadliest weapon ever created. His begging and pleading was probably worth the slap…lol.

But before we could enter teenage together, he left Hyderabad and took off to Dehradun. We wrote letters (yes, that was the time when people wrote, and not e-mailed), sent cards on each other others’ birthdays…but over a period of time we just got very lazy and stopped writing. Days turned into months, and months into years. Each knew what the other was doing, but never actually had any contact.

Then suddenly, one year back he looked me up on Orkut (love Orkut for this) and scrapped me. That’s how it started. We began mailing, then exchanged numbers, and my god! We would talk and talk and talk…as if making up for all the lost time. All this happened while I was in Hyderabad, doing my Masters’. He was in Chennai, working at Infosys. After my course got done I found a job too. And of all places Infy! I was to join Bangalore, and by then Hemant had been transferred to Bangalore as well. I was ecstatic beyond words. I was gonna meet him after so many years, and even though as kids we used to fight a lot, over the past few months we had become really good friends.

Another glitch. He went home for a few days…so I came to a Hemant-devoid Bangalore. He got back a week after I moved to this place. We decided to meet on campus. I almost had butterflies in my stomach. I hadn’t met him in more than 10 years, and now we were going to. What if I don’t recognize him? What if it gets awkward? What if we don’t know what to say to each other? These and many such questions crossed my mind, and probably his too…

We met at Terminal, (food court on the campus. Looks wow, but the food…ahem!), which is just opposite my building. I got to the food court, looking all around for him. And he appeared out of nowhere! We smiled, grinned, laughed…sat for a while, talking about everything and nothing. It was a little odd yes, but felt nice too. Like a hot shower, like watching “Friends,” like eating chicken momos in the rain, like drinking scotch…

That was day 1. We met everyday for the next one week. Talking like there’s no tomorrow, over lunch, over bhelpuri, over the phone…One glorious week. For he was going off to the US. I met him after forever, only to see him go away once again. As I bid farewell it didn’t feel too bad. It didn’t hit me that the next time I see him will be after about a year. I was smiling as I waved to him…Only later did the truth sink in: Hemant’s gone. And that’s when I realized how much he actually means to me.

He’s in America now. We mail, chat. He calls sometimes, and even though the frequency isn’t too high, it’s awesome talking to him. We spoke last week, after quite some time. And ah! I was all happy, and jumping. We don’t talk about anything serious; our talks range from what we did last weekend, to our current dates, from movies to college and office, from parties to studying…Very breezy conversations.

But this time was different. After we spoke, we mailed each other. And what he said made me feel so good! I could sense how much he cares about me…could almost see his anxiety ooze out of the words he wrote…At such times you realize the power of friendship. He’s far far away, but his words, his voice cast a magic spell on me. I probably don’t say it much, but he’s really precious to me. One of my best friends. Really love you a lot my insomniac sweetheart.


In retrospection

Author: crasiezt

Does a broken relationship mean THE END? Nope. No way. Life goes on and on and on and on…Maybe a little faster, now that I have so much time for myself. The weekends are so jam packed with activities; every Monday morning I wonder where the last two days went! But in the middle of all the hustle bustle, laughing, giggling, shopping, partying, I stop for a few seconds and think of the past…A song we both loved dancing to makes me realize how much fun it was to dance with him. Speaking to his friend I say “us” like I’m still a part of the gang. Seeing a car that’s similar to the one he’s got sends a jolt of realization down my spine that I’m not his front seat companion any more. When I go to a restaurant, and am deciding what to eat, the menu very rudely reminds me of the stuff he hates eating… Kelly Clarkson’s always been a favourite, and now more than ever I feel her songs are so amazing. Songs like “Never Again” “Behind These Hazel Eyes” seem to be mirroring my thoughts. “Big Girls Don’t Cry” (Fergie) has been added to the “my fave songs” list too!

I miss hearing his groggy voice when I used to call to wake him up in the morning. I miss our drunken stupors. I miss the chocolates he used to get me sometimes. I miss lazing around with him. Deleting his pictures from my phone can’t erase his memories from my mind…I just wonder if he feels the same way for me. Does he miss the way I smell? Does he miss my whining? Does he miss our shopping sprees? Does he miss the way I used to crinkle my nose at the mention of his “friend”? Does he miss the way I keep blabbering? But does it even matter now? Maybe it does. And that’s why I’m writing about it!

Fine, we didn’t work out. I’m not gonna talk to him again. Not in a million years. Not even when he sends me a message to say he’s in some trouble. Am I being hard hearted? No I’m not. After whatever happened it’s only logical that I maintain a stony silence. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’m not a saint or angel. I can’t behave like one either; forgive/forget and speak to him is not possible any more. If in a relationship one person doesn’t respect the other, calling him/her only in the hour of need then the whole thing stinks- not of friendship, not of lust, but a rotten kind of love. There’s love here. No denying that. But it’s gone bad. And what do you do with something rotten? Throw it away…


This weekend was great. 3 days- 3 movies- 3 AWESOME movies. “Transformers,” “Chak De” and “Ratatoville.” I loved the crazy, mindless, very very very very rapid action sequences in Transformers. I mean, it’s so quick that I don’t know when the good guy is getting beaten up, and when he’s crushing the baddies. It was just a lot of colourful metallic stuff! Lowbrow perhaps, but I loved it!

Then there was Chak De. The very fact that Shah Rukh was in it made it lovable:D But really, it was a good film. One of his best for sure. I can’t believe he’s the same person that did crap like “Oh Darling Yeh Hai India” and “Duplicate”!! People in the theatre were clapping every time there was a hard hitting nationalism-filled dialogue. Wish I knew how to whistle like a ruffian…would have contributed rather generously to the ruckus:D

Coming to Ratatoville. Well, it’s an animated movie, and like all others in its genre, it’s completely adorable:-) I feel animated films emote much better than the “real” stuff. Anger, love, hatred, fear, romance, comedy, drama- all of them are portrayed so beautifully. Look at “Anastasia,” Lion King,” “Finding Nemo,” “Mulan,” and now Ratatoville for reference. I could “see” the love in Dimitri’s (I know he’s a cartoon character, but he’s OMG cute) eyes for Anastasia, I laughed like a maniac when Dory (in Finding Nemo) was forgetting stuff and screwing up everything so royally…

But somehow a lot of people I know believe that such films are for kids. Little do they know how bloody difficult it is to create “such” films. You gotta appreciate art in every form…just because you don’t understand “cartoon language” doesn’t mean you can dismiss it as kids stuff. They want me to grow up. I think it’s such idiots who need to GROW UP, and not vice versa. I would much rather live with a cute little rat that can cook for me, than a hunk who doesn’t like animated movies…


Speak up!!

Author: crasiezt

I used to think we live in a free society; a world where you can voice your views openly. But I realized that it’s not like that. For, if your truth doesn’t go down too well with some one, you’re silenced. “Freedom of speech and expression” is a farce. Being shrewd and manipulative is the need of the hour, honesty takes a beating. “Democracy” is just a fancy flowery word, merely used to adorn books on Political Science.

The whole problem is that if you make your opinion (about someone) known, and the person wants you to shut up, you think “What the hell. Why should I? Let him do whatever he wants. I’m not scared.” But that’s not how it works. Unfortunately. If it was just you, you would have dealt with it. But a lot of other things are at stake too. So, in the end you bow down. It hurts the ego like nothing else, ripping apart the self-esteem, shredding it to slivers, making you feel powerless.

But think about it a little later. Use your logic that was clouded with immense anger. How on earth are you being weak? It’s that other person who’s being stupid. If he/she can’t accept the truth, and fears that his /her image is gonna get tarnished in public, and is being a coward, an escapist, who’s the weaker one? If threatening you makes him/her feel omnipotent, let that person live in a make-believe world. At least you spoke your mind!



Author: crasiezt

For those of you who've been reading my posts for the past couple of weeks, it must be weird to see that 6 of my previous posts are missing fron the page. I've deleted them. Reason: can't tell. Watch this space though. A lot of stuff's coming up...


My world:-)

Author: crasiezt

What’s my world? My family, friends, electronic gadgets, my boss, the washerwoman, discos, traffic jams, cute guys, shopping et al? Nope. That’s not my world. Not everything or everyone is a part of my world. I get to choose who stays and who leaves; after all life is about making choices, isn’t it? Right or wrong, doesn’t matter. Just stick by it!

I have lots of friends. Loads. But this blog is not about all of them. It’s about my three angels. I haven’t mentioned anybody’s name in the previous blogs, but I shall do now. Anna, Fiddi, Radhi (alphabetically arranged..lol): my bestest friends. We are all in different parts of the world (geographically), but still it feels like they are right here with me. Probably smirking at what I’ve written, chuckling at my choice of words, wanting me to stop writing and talk to them instead. I’m a “happy” person. I laugh easily. But somehow the way I laugh with these three idiots is so much more enjoyable. We laugh more than we talk! Back in college we took it for granted: all the laughing. Now we realize how precious it was…

I call one of them, and I don’t even have to say I’m upset. They just know it from my voice. They sense my pain. They feel it like it is their own. And when one of them calls me, the same happens. Friendship is beautiful. Friends are worth doing anything for. I could go to any lengths to make sure my buddies are happy. And they would do the same.

Fine we make fun of each other. All the time. Be it my height, Fiddi’s “photo pose,” Radhi’s complexion or Anna’s language, but it’s alright. There is no malice. It’s sweet in fact. I mean, if Fiddi stops commenting on how short I am (am not really short, but it’s just that the other three are TALL. So relatively I’m short), I’ll probably die (extreme emotion I know, but you get the point). The day I stop telling Radhi that it’s embarrassing to go out with her, she’ll probably think my pea-sized brains have been taken over by some alien! We can be sarcastic (read very very sarcastic. And the brat that I am, I’m the undisputed queen of nastiness), but it’s all for fun. Of course when we’re talking about someone outside our group…whew! God bless his/her soul:D

We met in November 2006. After so long. The four of us. Craziness unleashed. Laugh riot…felt “alive” in the real sense of the word. We’ve known each other for six years now. And there’s so much more to come. We might or might not approve of everything the other person is doing, but that’s secondary. We make our opinions known to each other, but there is no imposing. I sometimes wish two of us in the group were guys! We are so good together, it makes sense to be couples. But since we aren’t lesbians, two of us should have been of the opposite sex. There wouldn’t be any love problems then…lol.

I love everything about us. Right from “kya toh bhi” to “yadi ye,” from “just shove it” to “u’re mad or wot”…FRAN is my lifeline. Love you three so much so much so much. Always. Forever. Boyfriends will come and go, but you guys are here to stay. You're my world. Mmmmmmmuah!