On terror

Is it right to blame the leaders, every time there is a catastrophe ..Or am I being too soft on them? I think the world attaches too much importance on leaders, the days of the leaders are gone, it seems. We’re too big a country to be controlled/governed/handled properly by a set of leaders.. No leader can control the unforeseen..and no measure can prevent the unexpected. Why then blame the leaders, and the system and politics?

The next few days will be full of media reports, shocking stories, thoughts, reflections, lessons, suggestions, drama..and that will be followed by rise up Mumbai, rise up India, peace offerings, avaaz uthao, support for families, public movements..Eventually life will move on..we’ll remember this..the ghastly incidents..some of us, much much more than the others. Some of us were in the middle of it, for them life will be different, some of us lost someone we know, some got wiped off..some are shaken, and some if not most, will behold the spirit of the nation, Mumbai et all. There shall be movements, memories, condolences.. Condemning… I don’t know if the news channels are helping, by keeping people at the edge of their seats by showing footage, second by second updates. They’re doing their duty, salute to them..but I’m wondering if 24 hour news was not there would people be getting excited/panicking in the same manner. Something somewhere on TV stimulates much more than required, is what I personally feel.

The suggestions will pour in, yes you and you and you think this or that should be done.. The suggestions may or may not be implemented..Even after implementing the suggestions things can go wrong? I’m not saying we should not try and prevent attacks, just cause most of them are not preventable. All I’m saying is that this is definitely not the time to blame the country, nation, leaders, pakistanis and the defense system. Agitation, aggression and discourse is normal..but has anyone tried to wonder..Why this is happening? What are they thinking and what’s running in their minds? You can’t say Bomb Pakistan and Kill terrorists like Rats in the name of solutions. People of Pakistan are like you and me..Terrorists are human too, they’re being conditioned in ways that are unimaginable..the irony is..they all know they’ll be killed somehow or the other.

Bombay will recover, it has the spirit..these attacks will remain as a dark memory. Life changing for some, Lessons for others. We’ve got to hold strong, move on and maybe as individuals think about our own country..not necessarily at a time when some ghastly event like this occurs. Maybe exercise our voting rights, stay alert and learn to deal when the going gets really really tough.

I know..I haven’t personally faced any of this..and I am a nobody to be talking without experiencing it or witnessing it all for myself..Mumbai’s my birthplace..Colaba and Nariman Point hold many a stories in the chapters of my life. I don’t know what the solutions are, in fact I wasn’t even aware of the extent of this attack till a day after..but as someone very dear to me says: Have Faith. So we’ll try that also..



To be able to write is a gift, but with a data card with broken limbs..the gift turns into a frustrated patient. I doubt if I’ll be able to post this tonight..thanks to one of the richest companies in India, and their beautiful internet services. Have been aching to release all my thoughts somewhere. Tried distracting myself with sitcoms..but I’m back to pressing refresh every second, disconnecting and reconnecting each time.

I know..I can crib about cribbing too.

Must be a really difficult person..to deal with. (Me, I mean). Had a bunch of really random, and not so random observations..half of which are floating somewhere amidst the dense nerves in my head. I’m beginning to think I’ll be the perfect customer for smart phones. I just need that bit of technology, or else I’m under threat of committing suicide.

Why are women so..not bothered about themselves in India? By women I don’t mean girls of our age. Above 40-45 yr old women. They might be Hitlers or Demure Moms, or Softies or THE homemakers..but they’re rarely bothered about themselves. Do they stop caring after a certain age? Or does the whole Sacrifice..my kids, husband , family is more important comes into play?

I like Rock On. Really. I saw Dostana..thats why.

How does immaterialism develop into the minds of human beings?

Does television with hordes of channels, still make you a passive onlooker… fickle, unsatisfied and blank? Or is it just me?

Reading what I’ve written above, makes me seem like a very very depressed person. If I were someone else..I’d say..she needs help!!

The quicker you move on, the better you cope with life. Yeah?

Advertising folks comprise of those kids who probably never reached school on time and who submitted their assignments late in college. Yeah. I’m exceptional.

My desire bag consists of a guilt free shopping trip, at a place where I’d get everything I want, at good prices and not have to choose between very bad stuff and very very bad stuff. I’m ready to pay..but find me something thats worth its price??!!!! Psst Men included in the shopping list ūüėČ

Shoot. Its recession time. Shopping cancelled. Unless the man is ready to pay ūüėÄ

I’ve looked at so many wedding cards in the last five days, I think I’ll probably be informed about my own wedding through one such random nicely designed fancy cards

Notes to Self: You do realise that you not only find half the things in the world bad, you wouldn’t be too happy compromising with it also. You’re as picky as an arrogant blonde would be with her shades of nailpolish. What are you thinking, and what are you eating?

As the stupid data card refuses to comply, I shall go bury my head under the pillow..and think of everything else I can add in the following bullet points. Sweet dreams, sweetie..till then.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† The best pani puri and sev puri, is the one that you’ve been having since the time you don’t have memories of having it.


  • Women with excessive compact powder on their face look so ghastly and fake.
  • The hills make you drowsy
  • But the LAN speed is like a¬†mine with hidden diamonds!
  • Hail Tudou. Hail Youtube. Hail Empty Hostel
  • The more you look into the future, the yuckier life is..so look for tomorrow. Not day after tomorrow.
  • And don’t gape at me, day after tomorrow
  • Kick some ass, baby
  • I finally need to progress with times. Learn the art of gender bias..its a primary need of every woman
  • Sometimes I look at my instant messenger windows and try to ask myself..what are soo many people doing on this list..Especially those who I don’t even chat with? Same with Facebook..220 friends? Whoever has 220 friends?!
  • Sitting in boat. With lots of people..
  • Happy Children’s Day..saw my baby pics and as arrogant as I may sound..Gosh I was a CUTE kid! (What happened later on..don’t ask me)
  • So much to watch..so little time, God give me an extra hour, some sleep and port wine (that was just to rhyme it)

Rebranding: When the client gets bored of its logo colours.

When I was four months, twenty eight days and a few hours old, I had a particular expression on my face which could probably make a few hearts skip a beat today and maybe break a few.¬† As I glided to age five years, three weeks and six hours old, I was busy imitating what I saw on television instead of bothering about that expression or trying to use it. In grade three, in a school at 78, Syed Amir Ali Avenue I was asked to sit in a separate row, as I had been talking non-stop to the girl sitting next to me, who happened to be my cousin. During the¬†initial¬†years¬†of telecom revolution in India, when Dhirubhai Uncle (May he Rest in Peace), oops Mukesh Uncle launched the Dhirubhai offer, trying to fulfill his papa’s dreams, I was giving my dreams a hike and discussing everything from Accounts problems, to the Indian cricket team, to other people’s first boyfriends (obviously not bothering about having one for myself) on the worst but most cost effective mobile handset in the history of mankind. As I moved to college, talking led to typing and here I am, three or four years into this frustrated little faithful blog of mine, better than both the dogs I tell ya (dogs and men).. still talking. A lot of things that I was good at, are lost..or ignored¬†for the¬†pursual something completely unrelated. In regret or not? I’m still talking to myself about that. Ofcourse it wouldn’t hurt to have the¬†killer pout from¬†four months, twenty eight days and a few hours of age, but what’s gone is gone. The tongue and fingers are still intact and as long as they’re here..I shall rant.


Pure with words
Honeyed-the voice
Morning songs
Crosswords along
Make a drawing, you said
Poetry, we shared
The verses you wrote,
My little eyes shone..
Passion for the deck of cards,
Diamonds cut to class
Immaterialistic and simple
Big eyes, fair skin..
.. the royal white moustache!
There never was a last chance,
to share a glance..
Little did I know, I’d miss you so.
Remembering you, Nana..for the poetry and more.