D For......

During one of our serious jobless moments, my imaginary friend Timmy and I were sitting, looking at the same dull point of our whitish ceiling. Tim opened his mouth (sadly!!) without turning his head:

"Rini, when you get old, will you dye?"

I stared at him for complete five minutes. "Die??"

Tim: God, never understood how on earth I became YOUR friend???!!!??

Me: Errr.. May be, I created you out of MY imagination??

Tim: Haa... Don't change the topic now.. Coming back to the topic, It's not die, miss... It's D-Y-E.  Dye your hair.

I looked at him, being not so pleased. "If white/gray hair suits me, I won't.

Tim: And what if it doesn't?

Me: Grrrrr.... I would simply shave off.

Tim, looking very happy: It would be nice to look at.

Me (angrily): May be you should just die!!!

Tim: Lol, may be we should stop using that word.. Too much of chemical, I say..... From now on, no one in this room will say die..or dye..or any word starting with D.

Me: Dinner?

Tim: Except dinner.

Lamhe... Long Lost Movie................

Sridevimania is long over, but that doesn't mean I can't cash in at this late date. Here I am, anyway, whether you want me or not - and I come bearing the so called Bolly movie "Lamhe".

Yash Chopra’s neglected baby born in 1991 fell flat on its face during the race to the top of the box office at the mega-hurdle called “incest”. More than two decades after its release, Lamhe is the Chopra movie most likely to be called an "overlooked masterpiece”.

As an unapologetic member of the minority cult which deems this movie its favorite, I have to say it is a big time exaggeration to call this movie a masterpiece. Overlooked, yes. Masterpiece, no.

Lamhe shows its quality – in its performances like Anil Kapoor’s earnest confession at the climax or Anupam Kher telling his best friend off; in scenes like the one in which Pallavi’s husband gently informs her about Viren’s feelings and advises her to continue her friendship with him or when Anita first recognizes that Viren and Pooja aren’t exactly platonic.

In case you’re one of those who hasn’t watched this movie, here’re some things you should know:

Q. Is Lamhe really about incest?
A. Nooooooooooooo, how can you have such a doubt!!!???!!! The movie is all about this guy (Viren) who falls for the daughter (Pooja) of his first True Love (Pallavi). Now go with your imagination....

Q. That doesn't sound too bad. Then what’s this hue and cry with the incest thing then?
A. You can call it the "then state of mind of the public"... Thing is Viren became Pooja’s guardian after Pallavi died in childbirth and she looks exactly like her mom. Now what can the story writer/scriptwriter/director/ possibly do if the child is the mirror image of her dead mom.. But! The thing to remember is that he never laid eyes on Pooja for those 18 crucial years when she was growing up into her mother’s double and all the day-to-day raising was done by his old nurse (Dai Jaan). Besides, she‘s the one who chases him (rolling my eyes)!!!

Q. By the way, why name the movie Lamhe?

A. Duh, it means Moments. You see, Viren spends his whole adult life hoarding the few moments he spent in Pallavi’s dazzling presence and Pooja threatens to do the same with the few moments she spent in Viren’s considerably less dazzling presence, and then Viren realizes that all the dazzling moments he spent with Pallavi have been replaced by Pooja’s dazzling presence. Too much of razzle dazzle!!

Q. Wait a minute..... Don't tell me this movie features clean shaven Anil Kapoor?

A. Yes! How else then can you differentiate between the immature youth who fell in love with Pallavi-who-looked-straight-through-him (Moochless waala!) and the oldie goldie who falls for the fun and energetic Pooja-who-idolizes-him-even-though-he-ignores-her (Mooch waala!).

Q. Who else are in this movie?
A. There’s our favourite filmy maa Waheeda Rehman who is a total darling. Anupam Kher is great, especially if you and in this matter he himself didn't know that this was going to be the character he plays in every single YRF movie from then on. Deepak Malhotra as Pallavi’s husband and Pooja’s father is hilariously statue. And then there’s Dippy Sagoo as Anita the woman-who-ought-to-have-known-better-than-to-spend-years-mooning-over-a-wet-blanket. I’m very sad Dippy Sagoo’s career never took off (I secretly blame that wet blanket). Too bad, Dippy Sagoo!

Q. Should I watch this?
A. Do you like happy endings, older men, spunky young women, Sridevi and Anil Kapoor? Lata Mangeshkar crooning melodiously in the background and warm woolens in England? Then this is the movie for you! Otherwise, not so much.

Q. You really like this movie, don’t you?
A. Do not judge me.

Last but not the least, Lamhe is a great movie released in the wrong generation. It was a daring move for Yash Chopra to tackle a taboo topic such as this in a professional mainstream manner. This movie bombed at box office all too unjustly because the audience could not handle the subject matter - a love that ignores the boundaries of age. 

SOCIAL MEDIA: HATE ME IF YOU CAN!!!

With every passing day, I'm starting to dislike Google and social media. It was really good during school and college days. How could anyone possibly think of even doing their projects without adding the main ingredient, namely, Google.

But frankly, I do not like Google or any search engine for that matter, anymore. And I don't like Facebook too nowadays. it's the main culprit for making my life more complicated. I can't ask my friends anything anymore.

"Hey ABC, Did you like the latest bolly flick, Singham Returns?"
"Check my Fb status."

"Hey XYZ, Which state are you supporting in the kabbaddi league?"
'Darn Rini, check my tweet.. And yeah, retweet."

"Hi PQR, how was your vacation in Goa?"
"I have uploaded pics on fb"

"Hey LMN, what was the meaning of the word you mentioned the other day on whatsapp?"
"Google it yaar."

Well yeah, Google is awesome when someone tells you something so obvious that everyone else seems to know about it, and you secretly Google later, without admitting what an ignorant fool you are.

 And yes Google is super cool, when you are chatting with someone online and they talk about something completely alien to you, and you could go and Google in a new window, and come back to chat feeling like Einstein. 

Yes, it has its pros. But I miss that good old on-the-face stuff, even if it be “Don’t you even know that??” or “Where were you when this was taught at school?” 

Now they hush you off to references, even if it be about their own life. Now I'm in that fear zone where I am expecting replies like “Why would you ask me how are you, didn’t you see my daily morning status?”

Or maybe I will go surprise a friend and say “guess who?” and in turn reply would be “wait, let me take your picture and check among my Facebook friends.” And worse, come back saying “Nope you are not there, you better add me first 'cause I don’t talk to (Facebook) strangers.” 

I'm not exaggerating, merely sharing experiences. Admit it, people have already stopped talking to you 'cause you didn’t ‘like’ their new profile picture. Or comment about their cover photo.

And remember your childhood times when you had a small party and forgot to invite some friend or another, and could hide it all up later? Nope pals, that's not happening anymore 'cause some super brainy would happily post it online and caption it “fun times!”

 But frankly, this is not my problem at all. All I want is for my friends to reply to me when I talk to them, without sending me off to the internet for my answers.

My Experiment With Tweet Sized Stories

Lately, I have been trying my hands on tiny, one tweet sized stories. It's really fun. People who don't know what these tiny stories are,  **drum roll** yes, you guessed it right, they are tinyyyy, which can fit within one tweet. You just need to catch hold of a theme and start weaving a story around it.

This is my first tiny tale and the theme apt for today is "mother's day". Here it goes:

One look at her today and he knew he had to tell, words he always wanted to tell it aloud, feelings which were in his heart but never mustered it up.
"I love you and will always do it till the end."
Wiping her tears, his mother smiled.

MY IRRATIONAL ANXIETY MOMENTS!!

Are you one of those people who has spasms of irrational anxiety or AM I THE ONLY ONE ON THIS PLANET????

In school, I had a total freak out melt down one night when I realized that I was supposed to go on a picnic with school friends over the weekend and I didn't know what kind of bread to use for our sandwiches. Do they like white? Wheat? Whole grain? Multi grain? 8 multi grain or 9 multi grain? How many grains sum it to be called as "multi" and how much less is 9 multi from multi grain bread?? Is it even a thing? As if the difference of few grains will turn this whole world upside down!!! Should I buy sweet bread or cheese bread? What's honey oat bread? Do they mix honey in it (I can actually write for hours and hours about bread and still remain confused)? I had no idea and it kept me up the whole night. I ended up buying multi grain stuff and it was completely fine and my anxiety was all for nothing.

But then last evening I had to go to the grocery store to buy milk. And there I was again, confused as usual.1% skimmed or 2 % skimmed? The difference between 2% fat and 1% fat is 1 whole percent!!! Like, that 1% less of fat will give me 1 less of ab to my belly. I just don't get it but still got freaked out. It also didn't help that I forgot which grocery store I was in and I got totally turned around and had a mild panic attack when I thought I was supposed to be by the dairy products section but instead I was over by the toilet paper and I felt personally victimized by the grocery store for confusing me even though it was 100% my fault.

So then I started thinking about other things that make me have irrational panic attacks, and since I'm super nice and generous I'm going to share the list with you.

1. When my phone battery charge dips below 10% and I don't have access to a charger. Or when my phone freezes and I'm convinced it's going to be dead forever and I'm going to lose all my pictures and text conversations.

 

2. When I go to a grocery store and either, I can't find the items I need or somebody else is standing right in front of them. I end up spending hours pretending to be interested in the packages of  groundnuts or something while they finish looking at the different kinds of  corn flakes because you better believe I'm not saying "excuse me" and butting in front of them.

3. When I'm in queue at Mc Donald's and I can't decide if I want to stick with my Mc Aloo Burger and Pepsi or try something different and all of a sudden it's my turn and I haven't decided but there are a bunch of people behind me and I am totally holding everything up.

4. When my landlord tells me that he's going to come over with an electrician this weekend to fix some broken outlets but I haven't had a chance to clean the kitchen. Now I can't and my plans got changed and I wasn't ready for it!! (panic attack!!)

5. Whenever my leg or hand is dangling off the bed someone, or worse, something is going to grab it. Well, if it’s someone they’ll probably slice my legs whereas something such as a demon or entity would aggressively drag me to hell.

6. Any time I see a spider or any crawly or rapidly running insect, only three things come into my mind.... KILL/MURDER/DIE!!!!

7.  This one is related to my 6th point of anxiety. By any chance, if that spider or that bug manages to escape, I worry it’ll come back with several of its friends and attempt revenge.

8. When my mom/dad/brother/close friend/anyone whom I decide to call or text, doesn't text back. I'm sure it's because they are kidnapped or have met an accident or in jail.

9. Half open closet doors. I wait for a hand to slowly come out from there and pull me inside forcefully, like in those horror movies.

10. When looking into mirrors, I always wait for that scary moment when my reflection won’t match up with my body movements.

 

11. Looking out of windows at night. Even the tiniest sliver of curtains that leaves the tiniest amount of window exposed is definitely being looked through by some type of crazy psycho killer who plans to jump inside, slice my hands and legs and do other slasher movie thingy. 

 

12. By closing my eyes in the shower I feel susceptible to all types of monsters/murderers take advantage. I truly believe that the moment my eyes are shut, a bell rings automatically, informing all interested parties of my helplessness. It’s the WORST when I have got shampoo in my hair, dripping down my face but I freak out and risk exposing my eyes to the painful and burning flowy shampoo lather so that I can get a glimpse of my murderer and confirm my safety.

Dreamy Love...Forever and Ever

He: Can I tell you something?

She: Yeah, go ahead...

He: I love you 

She (laughs): Shaaaaat uppp.. you don’t.

He: No but I will love you

She: (smiles)

He: You are smart, intelligent and witty…

She: No I am not!

He: You may not seem to be but I know you are

She (smiling): Thank you

He: You are also real and original… And that makes it so easy. You don’t act one way and think another. Even your wit and weirdness are beautiful to watch.

She: Now that, I agree.

He: You are also beautiful. Don’t ask me in what way. You just are..

She: (looks down, feeling shy)

He: But…

She: (looks up)

He: I would know all this only when I meet you…

She: (smiles again)

He: And then… I will always love you, forever and ever..

MY MOM.....

To my very special mother,
On this normal day,
I'm writing you this poem,
Since there are some things I would like to say.

Thanks for thinking I'm funny
Even though I am really not
And even though i hardly say it
I love you quite a lot.

Thanks for taking me places
I couldn't have gotten on my own
And for always making our house

Feel a lot like a home.

Thanks for always being there
To make sure that I'm okay
So I know that if I need you
You are just a hug away.

Thanks for all the good times passed
And the ones that are still to come
For always being a person
I'm proud to call my mom.

You can't choose who your family is,
But if it was something I could do,
I know if I could go back now
My choice would always be you.

Life...As It Is.....

Life can be full of light and brightness,
On silent days with plain blue skies
Or life can be like pitter patter raindrops
That falls like tears from your ruby eyes.

Life can be the ever dreamy heaven
That you will only reach through hell,
But you won't know that you are happy,
If you haven't been sad as well.

Life can teach lessons in a hard way
But you will be wiser once you know
That even roses need both sunshine
And a touch of rain to grow...

If you can't be a poet, be the poem!

You can write for hours on hours,
Of all the things you wished you could be,
But the truth of the matter is simple,
People are not poetry.

And I know that you wish you weren't awkward,
That sweet words could roll right off your tongue,
But your time here is too short just to worry,
How each single sentence is strung.

It's okay to be rough around the edges,
To be bruised up, broken and scarred,
But it's not okay to let people tell you,
That it's a reason to change who you are.

Your hair doesn't sit neatly,
The way a poem sits so neatly in a line,
And sometimes you might feel like a word,
That nobody has learnt to define.

You might not be a star that lights a dark path,
Or a bird that could teach us to soar,
But it's okay, because you are too complex,
To be crammed into one metaphor.

It's okay not to know what you are doing,
Since your feelings don't have to all rhyme
Though a poem once complete is eternal,
You have the freedom to change over time.

You are much more than can ever be written,
there is no title to say "This Is ME",
You can't be trapped in the lines of a notebook,
Because people are not poetry.....
 

MY MEMORY IN MORTUARY........

On a saturday night....

"OMG! I'm suffering...."

And as expected, my imaginary stupid (but sometimes sensible!)friend,Timmy, popped up.I should really find out how he does that (and stop him!).

“From what, milady?”
“Tim, i think it's a disease...”  
“And the name is...?”
“Wise men call it amnesia, some call it dementia, people like me try to call it alzh… alzh.. err its complicated”
“Caught you Rini. You have lost memory, like Aamir in Ghajini. Where are your tattoos, if i may ask? Let me get needle and ink. I will be more than happy to do the honors!!! ”

“Shut up, you idiot!! I did not lose memory! Just a tiny bit on the outer side.”
“It has sides?!!??”
“Oh yeah, it is like a huge football, which comes with an inside and an outside.”
“Really? You mean, inside is full of air?? Hehehe... Enlighten me, anyways.”

“Oh Tim, you see, the inside is like a bank.You save your best moments in it. So anytime you want to have one, just unlock it and get one out.”
“And the outside?”
“Hmmm... It contains less wanted moments. it is like the stuff you carry in your purse or bag - bus tickets, chewing gums, bills.”
“Why are you so worried then? Erase them completely. And then, you will be tension-free”
“No Tim! You never know when the bill would come back to you and say ‘Remember me?’”
“Oh right. You would not remember the bill.” 
"Tim, you are drifting away from my problem!"

"What's the problem, then?"

“It becomes harder when, unlike purse, the 'outside' of memory holds people.”
“You forgot people, Rini??”
“Naaah... Not all of them. There are these people Tim, I know I have seen them somewhere but I can’t place them. And problem is, they remember me!”

“Now, I get it. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to DEBTORS THEORY!! (drum roll.....).
 "God Tim! I really had lost my mind when I created you! Plus, I'm the only lady here, sans any gentleman!"
"Whatever Rini... According to Debtors theory, people always remember their debtors, but debtors never remember people.”
“TIM!!!”
“Okay okay you have no money”
“I'm goin to kill you, you monster!”

“Fine... what is the trouble”
“Thanks a lot for asking so soon. Problem is they smile, I smile. They call by name, I smile. They ask questions, I smile.”
“You are a little too cheerful perhaps.”

“What is happening to me, Timmy?”
“You must be dying.”
“No I am not!”
“Oh well, no harm in hoping.”
“That’s it! You are dead.”
"Hey, but I'm your only good looking imaginary pal, Tim, the greaaaa...."Ouuuucccchhhhhhh"