Wednesday, September 15, 2010


I read in the newspaper a couple of days ago, that our 'intelligence agencies' have 'lost track' of two terrorists who were residing in Lal Baug.

'Lost track'? Are you kidding me? Do they mean to tell the thousands of people who pass by Lal baug every single day, 'Sorry about this, but you may get attacked anytime now... our bad!'

I am appalled. Just appalled.

real life is a sitcom

I just walked up to my account management guy and asked what he was doing.

Without looking up from his computer he said, "i'm finishing a PPT".

Then as I was leaving he said, "You know, someone told me that PPT (peepeeti) in Konkani means a woman's private area..."

So, i said, "Eww, i didn't know that..."

And he said, "Neither did I, but my boss just came and asked me to quickly clean up her PPT"


this is what sitcoms are made of..

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

on a completely unrelated note...

So on a completely unrelated note: Allow me to update you about my man friend. He is funny, sweet and extremely cute. So cute in fact that I have to slap myself sometimes because I daydream about how cute he is.

And what’s more, he looks so good in a suit. So good in fact, that sometimes I day dream about him in a suit, looking cute and walking down the aisle. Which is when I have to slap myself again because if he ever found out he would run away. After all, it’s only been nine months.

But nine super months. So super, that sometimes I daydream that we have already walked down the aisle and I have already seen his cute-self looking so good in a suit and it is now one year later and we have two babies and I have picked names for them also… a boy and a girl...But I cannot tell him this either, because then he will definitely run away, if he did not already.

And speaking of running, he has a very nice butt.

Which I also day-dream about…

But only sometimes…

not so happy to me

I turned 29 about two months ago. One step closer to thirty and eight years farther away from my twenties. Days prior to the birthday, I prepped myself—I have always had a tremendous amount of fun on my birthday, and I have always been surrounded by close friends who love me and vice-versa, so why should I be irritable?

So I accepted the day. I woke up happy, I stayed happy, I was happy on the phone, happy in ‘Thank You’ texts to friends who wished me… and even apologised to those who tried to wish me at midnight, because I was fast asleep, like old people are at midnight.

The evening came, and I was still happy. I dressed and was up and ready to leave. I reached the club with two of my closest friends and I waited. And I waited some more. And then some more. Almost one and a half hour past and no one came.

Hurt, depressed and feeling extremely old, we left the club. Feeling like a piece of old poop, I snapped at one of the friends who was there. And she left too. So it was me and one other person who stuck around. And then I cried. And I cried some more.
Finally an hour later, a friend called and said he was waiting outside the club. Then I got another call and some more people said the same thing. So in about an hour I was back in the club pretending to smile and have fun all over again. Pretending that the last two hours did not happen.

About seven people showed up eventually. Not a bad turn out really, I guess I should not have expected all 20 that I invited.

So I vow that when I turn thirty there will be no big party. There will be no expectations. And there will only be a handful of friends who really matter to me around me. If they care enough, they will be there. And if they are not there, then when I turn 31, I will have an even smaller group.

And that’s the bottom line.

Theory: The older you get the smaller your circle of friends become