Some days...

just flow by. Like a dream. Days when I feel like my life couldn't get better. When I feel like hugging everybody. When I feel light headed with happiness. The past few days have come close to this kind of feeling. Only now its waning at lightening speed.

It started from yesterday evening. E is leaving for Bombay. S and I have to shift. It's house-hunting time yet again. So S and I went to meet this property dealer who was supposed to show us what sounded like a nice deal - a two-set apartment on the terrace (a barsati type). When we reached the place it seemed nice, just like our present place. Except that its shortcomings were going to strike us very badly soon. While we were waiting at the broker's (surprisingly it was quite plush. Complete with an AC, a laptop and a smart phone on display), he asked us whether we were architects with the DDA. I was startled. He said, "Actually two girls had come for this flat and they were architects. So I thought you were the same people." (A sign. Those girls obviously never came back).

A guy was sent with us to see the apartment. He suddenly said, "Madam, yaha to kitchen nahi hai (Madam there's no kitchen here)". We looked at each other. The guy spoke again: "Aur madam yeh LIG flat hai.(And madam this is an LIG flat)". Now LIG stands for Lower Income Group.

It seemed to be a day of revelations. Bad ones.

About turn. We marched back to the broker's office. Listen to what the broker said. "Oh we will get a kitchen done" and "I had told you it was an LIG flat". Liar. Fraud. Add to that indecent. He didn't even show us the way out of the colony.

This was the start of our nightmare (topped by the fact that my sandal straps were cutting into my feet). We seemed to be walking forever till we reached the highway. No auto rickshaw would take us which meant we had to cross the road. When I say it was quite an impossible task, I am not exaggerating one bit. We saw the signal go red. The next second we turned back towards the bloody signal and it was green. We kept standing for what seemed infinity while the lights kept alternating betweem red and green. As S commented it was like a bad comedy. The humidity was the icing to the evening. Finally after aeons we scampered across the road. And crossed the other.

Bless the auto who took us to our next destination - an apartment to be vacated by an acquaintance of S. Though we reached there in a few minutes, we got lost in the alleys. We landed in front of a barber's that said Nice Hairdresser's. Let me tell you, nice was the last thing on my mind when I ran away from there. What happened was S asked a man there for the address. He asked, "Kaun log hai? Bangali hai ka?" We walked away a little distance and S called up her acquaintance P.

Meanwhile the man kept calling me. I approached him and said we didn't need any help. My foolishness. The man said, "Aaiye na. Darr rahe hai kya?" (Come here. Are you feeling scared?) I just turned back and both of us hurried out of there. P was going to pick us up. He and his girlfriend arrived in their car promptly.

Their apartment was huge. My eyes grew wide as I heard the rent for it. No, this time it was something good. It was ridiculously inexpensive. Apparently the girlfriend had struck a hard bargain.

P and girlfriend dropped us till the bus stop. Well, again no auto would take us to our place. But all of them lined up looking at us
expectantly. Waiting for us to run back with our tail between our legs I suppose. They were in for a big disappointment. Finally we got the right man.

Back home I was thinking about the evening. Just one evening and we met a variety of people. The broker (an asshole), the guy who was going to show us the apartment (astute. In 2 mins pointed out the flaws), the auto wallah (a sweetheart. No nagging, nothing, took us to P's place), the man at Nice Hairdresser's (a fucker) and lastly P and his girlfriend (kind. They needn't have bothered to pick us up or drop us. They needn't have taken the trouble of showing us the apartment. Nonetheless they took the trouble. And that touched me).

So I have come to a conclusion. That there's a right place and a right time for everything.

And, dare I say, the right man.


Cause I'm keeping you forever and for always

I have met him. He is a firang. I don't know his name, I don't know where he is from. I don't know anything about him. I can just speculate. He looks like Ashton Kutcher. Better if I may so (can't do away with the rose-tinted glasses). And I think he's a photographer.

It happened like this. I had gone to attend a photography exhibition of a guy called Haran who is actually from the streets. A slum kid coming so far is very touching. Such nice work too. I was tempted to buy a photograph till I realised I couldn't afford to shell out Rs 10,000 in one go. Anways, the firang was standing right there and going click, click, click. And I was leching. Leching and drooling till I could probably fill up an ocean.

I made one of my photographer friend take his pic. I am going to post it too. So my love, if you ever see it, do write back to your Demi.


So I like a kid...

In fact I love them. Only I have this decided partiality for good
looking babies. I know it sounds shallow and disgusting, but there it
is. On Sunday, P, N (P's flatmate) and I went out for a quick dinner at Pizza Hut. It was anywhere near quick. There was a queue outside the place (That's one thing I detest. Waiting for food or being asked to leave because there are others waiting). By the time we had the good fortune of getting a table, N had to leave. She had to meet her beau(boyfriend sounds decidedly schoolgirlish).

When we sat down, I noticed this little boy with chubby cheeks and little cupid lips working on his portion of garlic bread with a fork very earnestly. I kept turning around to look at him. P's reaction: 'I was convinced that day at Maurya that you are a paedophile.'

I had met this cute little firang kid a month back on an assignment. He was bouncing about in the swimming pool at Maurya Sheraton along with his little elder sister and fat lardy father in tow. He was the baby of the shutterbugs who instead of training their cameras on a bikini-clad model gave our little friend their full atttention. And wasn't he lapping up the attention! He posed for them, grinned, rolled about with pleasure...I stood at the edge of the pool smiling indulgently at him. Now whenever the dad happened to look at me, he caught me looking at his kid and he shot me suspiciously looks henceforth. Each time the kid tried to run towards our side, he caught him and dumped him on the lounger. I wonder if he thought along the lines of P.

I think I want to adopt a kid. I suggested it to my mom. She freaked
out. One of our tenants had their twin grandchildren from Bombay
visiting them. The visit was a long one. When they arrived they could
just crawl around. By the time they left our place they could walk. They were fraternal twins - Haloushka (the gal) and Hriday (the boy). This happened to be during the final year of my college.

With the exams looming in front, my mom became very hyper whenever she would find me playing with the kids. She warned me: 'Just wait till you drop one of them and land in jail.' I would say bah and steal down every afternoon. Till evening I would be with them. Hriday was a confusing guy. Very chubby and cute. The moment he would see me standing at the door waiting to be let in, he would gurgle with happiness and come running on his unsteady legs and fall. Then five seconds in my lap and he would die to get back to his nanny. Very tiresome.

Haloushka was always content to be with me. She didn't like it one bit when I tried to be pally with her naughty brother. She was a pretty little girl and very winning in her ways. When she smiled a toothless smile and rubbed her cheek against mine I would feel on top of the world. Then one day she drenched me. Feeling the wet thingie on the front of my clothes, I freaked out. I put her down and started telling her naughty she was. She in the meantime kept tugging at my clothes asking to be taken back. I didn't. After her nanny changed her clothes and brought her back and after I had changed mine as well, she refused to come to me. She sat on the stairs and played by herself. Only when I had tried placating her and pleaded for a good 10 mins, did she come running to me. At that point, I felt like she was my baby. I again told my mom I wanted to adopt her. She told me off saying I was out of my mind.

Anyways one evening I was out with them in our driveway as usual. I took hold of the pram in which Hriday loved toodling off with his nanny. The latter asked me to take care of him for a while. I was walking him around, when after five minutes as usual he started getting very shifty. He kept moving till suddenly I saw him toppling out of the pram (that too right in front of his grandparents' doorstep. Thankfully it was shut). As he let out a earsplitting wail, I picked him up and ran to his nanny who advised me to get some icecubes. Now when I tried to put an icecube on his head, he shrieked even louder.

What his nanny did put my heart in my mouth. She popped it into his mouth. The little guy just wouldn't take it out of his mouth after that and was very happy with it. I was shit scared. The icecubes were particularly big and even I couldn't keep them in my mouth for long. What if he choked? Nothing doing. He wouldn't take it out. I remembered what ma had said. I panicked and called up my friends. Of course my mum never knew. She still doesn't. She would have killed me. But the next morning Hriday fell off from the bed and hurt himself on the head again. (okay okay I was being terribly mean) I heaved a sigh of relief .


Money money money

E read out something from the newspaper today morning(Since I have
stopped reading them). Let me confess, I didn't even know about the
Fardeen Khan controversy.

Anyways as I was saying, this happened in Calcutta 4 years back. A guy was travelling on his bike when he was hit by a bus. He was rushed to the Ruby General Hospital. He showed them his mediclaim of Rs 65,000. They started the treatment and then stopped saying they needed at least Rs 15,000 there and then. The people who had taken the guy there somehow managed to collect Rs 2,000, but the hospital people refused to restart the treatment. The guy said his parents would reach soon. The hospital waited for 45 minutes. The guy died.

What kind of doctors are these who care for money more than human beings? The National Consumer Disputes Redressal Commission has passed a order saying they have to treat any critical patient whatever the case might be in future. What about the parents? The commission asked the hospital to pay them Rs 10 lakh. Now you know the worth of human life - Rs 10 lakh.