Mere desh mein paisa sirf paisa nahi hain

Every now and then, I find myself humming the jingle that has taken over the ad space in our living rooms. While money has taken different proportions of importance in our varied lives, it is no rocket science that most of us spend the larger part of our lives carving out a ‘livelihood’ for ourselves. Truly in this age of materialistic splendor, there is no denying that ‘money’ has taken an all pervasive importance in our lives.

While everything around ‘money’ has so far been depicted to show the ease of material comforts that could be easily accessed by the ‘moneyed’ services of different products, it was a welcome change to see the softer, more humane side of life being brought out in the advertisement.

The various emotional ties that were brought out in the ad, the smaller pleasures of the simple people that were highlighted, the cultures and traditions that were woven around the coin, brought forward the ethos that as a country India represents.

It was truly one of the better ads of today, with the right dollop of emotions, practicality, sound and music. It gave a personality to the product which is truly endearing.

Truly, mere desh mein paisa sirf paisa nahi hain……

The 'Rock-stars' in my life

This is the most personal blog that I have ever written. It is an ode to the by-gone days and a promise for the future. It is a toast to all the important people in my life. As someone rightly said, we meet millions of people in the journey called life, out of which there are only thousands whom we call acquaintance, a hundred whom we call friends and family and a handful who defines our lives and moulds its joys and sorrows, its sighs and exultation, its mornings and nights….it is to those handful that I dedicate this piece. At the dawn of a new year, a new promise for a brighter and safer future, a silent prayer for a better world, it is to those kindred souls that I thank for the great experience called ‘life.’


Parents: no one can and no one will ever fill your shoes. You have been a pillar of strength all along the way; whenever I have faltered (and there has been incidents many), you have been there to cushion my falls and hold my hand to rise and face life with a chin held high and a strength to carve a better tomorrow. You have been the picture of selfless love and unfailing attention, and if not for you the world would not be the same for me ever. Today, tomorrow and life-long, my world would always begin and end with you, irrespective of what I fill it with in-between.


Brother: What would my life be without the childhood squabbles, the endless fun, the fights, the small moments of joys and sorrows that we carefully tucked under our soft pillows, every night when we went to bed after a fun filled day. During my growing up years, whenever I needed the protective shoulder after a hard day or a difficult situation, you have always been there by my side. You have been my partner in crime and shielded and stood by me in all the highs and lows of life.


Thamma, Dadu and Rina mashi: A child needs to dream, needs a place to hide when she commits all the childish follies, the pranks in life. Every time the brother and me rolled in the sand when we did not get a toffee, or hid behind a bush not wanting to take the afternoon siesta, or wanted that one doll that could dance and sing, we always ran to you for your benevolent mercy. The bed time stories, the companionship when parents went to work, the love and affection that you endlessly showered, defined the best moments of our life.


Shubashree and Poulomee: The starry-eyed, giggling trio that we formed during our growing up years had an element of fun, a challenge and kinship that is so refreshing when I look back at it today. We made dreams together, fought and debated hard about our favorite movie stars and cricket players, participated in endless chatters and no-ends-meet discussions, and most important of all, you two filled up the space of two dotting friends who defined the highs of my school life, be it the innocence pranks or the brilliant day dreams.


The trio of Kolkata- Priya, Sabeena and Saswati: I was out of home, young and lonely in an unknown land, trying to define my destiny. The protected child that I was, I felt lost in the urban wilderness. You all, at different points in my life, gave me the companionship that helped me stay rooted to the ground and plan for tomorrow. Sabeena and Priya, thank you for bearing with my tantrums and giving way to my whims in those wild days of just gained freedom. Saswati, I will always owe you the generosity that you showed in braving the nerd (while I hid in my room) and taking me out of the relationship that I wanted to get out of, after two days of sunshine. Oh all those heartbreaks and crushes, the mooning and day dreams would not have been complete without you three.


The Delhi gang: I have already dedicated a piece to you before. What more can I say. Those were the wildest and craziest days of my life. I gained some of my best friends here. There are memories and people during this phase whom I have left behind for good—but the sorrows, the anguish, the failures were outweighed by the fun, the future and friendship that I got from you guys.


The husband: You are one of the most integral part of my life today. Between the two end points of my life, you are one of the most important today. Though we fight like cats and dogs, are two diverse personalities in every respect, you give me a grounding, a stability that allows me to be careless with life, to give wings to my whims, to throw caution to the wind and live for the moment. You give me the cushion which allows me to falter and fall, to live a carefree today to the hilt.


The in-laws (MIL, FIL and SIL): You are the most important people in the lives of the most important people of my life, my husband, my brother and my parents. Though we have had limited days together, you are an important part of my future. The stability that you bring in the lives of my dear ones, the joys that you give them are the joys that I bask in too. Thank you for the dearness and the love.

And thank you to all the friends, the colleagues, the bosses and the neighbors who have touched me intimately at different times, gave me that single smile, the one-time hope, the strong hand that makes me what I am today.

When kids sing, ‘Mein talli, mein talli, mein talli ho gayi”

It was a day after Christmas. We had gone out with a group of friends to spend the weekend in a beach resort. It was a breezy winter evening; a slight snip in the air was a comfortable change from the sultry evenings of Mumbai.

The barbecue was well -laid out. Chunky pieces of chicken and the softness of the paneer was tantalizing our eager taste buds. While the husband and majority in the group emerged themselves to the drink and food, the ‘teetotalar ‘ in me had a fun time enjoying the antics of people around.

As the evening progressed, and alcohol flowed freely, the crowd changed from the sober to the playful. The otherwise serious group engaged in completely random chatter. Big boys (men) sang nursery rhymes while children danced to the beats of racy numbers. Yeah, I agree with you my friends, the world does look topsy-turvy.

I was startled to discover how parents nonchalantly observed their little ones as they behaved far beyond their age. Little girls acted cocky and initiated questions and answered queries in a language that was completely alien to our generation when we were their age. In my limited world now, I am rarely in such close proximity to toddlers for such length, and the evening made me realize that times have drastically changed. The generation gap is startling and quite beyond my comprehension.

An example of the behavior that had me gaping in wonder was a small kid, singing and dancing with the ‘bang on’ expression to the tunes of “mein talli ho gayi”…(to all who don’t understand the language, it translates into a racy number depiciting how drunk you are). The girl, all of 9, not only mouthed these songs, but made herself a perfect concoction of vodka and sprite, which knocked the senses out of me.

The poor husband, drunk by now, quickly sobered down by the brazen act of the kid. While we quietly brought it to the notice of the parents, their reaction to the incident made us look like stone-age relics. They could actually find humor in the incident and let go the child with the lightest tap on the shoulder.

Friends, times are different and I am long way off the road. I cherish the innocence of the past and the knowledge and information of today and earnestly hope that we can strike a balance that gets the best of both the worlds to the generations of tomorrow.

Mindless Advertising

A young boy, no actually a kid, comes running to his mom complaining that he has lost his favorite new toy. Mom says, ‘beta, look around, you will find it somewhere.’ Boy insists that he has indeed lost the toy.

Apparently, there are visitors in the living room. A young couple is chit-chating with the mom when the boy barges in the conversation. The visitor promises to buy the kid a new toy , to which the kiddo replies, ‘Why should you buy me the toy? My dad is going to get it for me.’

The kid is nice and adorable. The setting very homely and cosy, right where you would like to fit in any given day. Everything is believable and real like, until the visitor blurts out, ‘but beta, what if you happen to lose your dad?’

The minute you hear this, you stare at the ad in disbelief. Do you think any sane person (and the young visitor in the ad looks alright, his senses intact) would pose such a question to a child? Imagine your uncles and aunts asking you when you were a kid a similar question—what kind of an insecurity and helplessness it would have left on your impressionable mind. And more than that, what kind of a grown-up you needed to be to have posed such a question to a kid. Mr. Writer, I don’t think you have got it right this time--such stories are not only difficult to digest, but leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

And every time I hear the young man asking that question, I feel a strong sense of rejection for the product. I feel strange at the mindlessness of such rubbish that is thrown at us in the name of creativity and good production values. Not all times, advertisements will reflect reality. In fact, most of the ad stories are made to make the product king-size and exaggeration is a given in the make believe world.

However, there are words like ethics, civility and good sense. If those are thrown to the wind, even the cutest kid and the best setting will not manage to salvage the story and I seriously doubt the effectively of such mindlessness in creating a brand value for any product.

in continuation

...and i completely forgot the comment about trying to cross-dress that the husband famously said when i wore a salwar suit...

My New Hairstyle

It has been long since my last blog but life was kind of hectic. It wasn’t as if I was overburdened with work or anything; just the commute and routine activities were tying me down.

So, the highlight of the last few days-- I went in for a new look. My instruction to the hairstylist was, “Give me a short hair cut that would make me look smart.” Now, if someone were to make such an open ended statement, no wonder it could be interpreted as anything. And, my stylist had a hay day interpreting my instructions as a desire to go for the punk or something as adventurous. Half way through his work, I was aghast and screaming the roof down with horror.

Few friends who accompanied me were vacillating between consoling me and bursting out with uncontrollable laughter. I looked like a cross between a scarecrow and a half drenched chicken. Seeing the horror writ all over my face, the lady of the parlor came to rescue. The repair work done was the best that possibly could be, but by then the damage had already been done.

The end result. Now I wear my hair very very short, something like the soldiers of the land carry. Though I try to console myself, saying it the Halle Berry look or the in-trend hairstyle, I know for the good or the worse I need to see it through for the next few months.

Few comments that I received as a result of my adventure:

The husband: spare driver, lets go for a boys night out, all the guys (moi included) could take a trip to goa; Mr. Jayanat…..and he could go on and on

Office colleagues: not that bad, could be better, last hair style was much much better, Mr. Jayatri…..and this list is also endless

Friends: Not that bad; don’t worry, this is winter, your hair will grow very fast;

In all this turmoil, there have only been a few people who helped me keep my confidence. Monalisa and Tarique really said nice words and if not for them, I would have felt really low.

What the hell, what’s in a look anyways…as I said before…”I never knew her loveliness, until she smiled on me.’

Rock On!

I have this great apathy for ‘Rock’ music. I always identified the genre with really loud music, trance, hard rock. Without any offense to the die-hard followers of ‘Rock,’ the Deep Purples, AC/DCs of the world don’t do anything for me; or maybe, I am too ignorant or uncouth to enjoy that class of music.

For me, I was always more comfortable with the Boney Ms, Abba, Bryan Adams of the world. I love to listen to soft hindi numbers and the melodies of old time classics. No wonder, I wasn’t very enthusiastic when ‘Rock on’ was released.

I was terrified of sitting through two to three hours of a music genre, which I had no ears for. Also, the roller coaster ride of a bunch of people, whose passion and livelihood I did not identify with, didn’t seem too exciting a proposal.

Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised when, at last, I watched ‘Rock on’ this week. It was a very riveting movie and I could easily connect with a lot of the characters. The free spirited bonhomie that was very apparent between the friends was so likeable that I was instantly taken back to my own college days.

Though as a bunch of freaking youngsters, we did not have the talent these guys possessed, the 'enthusiasm' wasn’t lacking in us too. Right from dancing impromptu on stage, to killing time in absolute random activities, to chatting endlessly about things that made no sense, we too went all out to enjoy life to the limits.

Cheers to the free spirited nature of youth.

Cheers to the absolutely mad Delhi gang…the swagger, the craziness, the fun! Guys, we had a lovely time together and I raise a toast to those days left behind….

Since, I am getting all misty eyed and nostalgic, here are a few lines that I had written some years back:

I cherish those days when I was the kid of the class, 

You all pampered me endlessly and made so much fuss.  

The chocolates and the endearments I miss them so, 

If I could get them back, I would want nothing more. 

I miss those days when teachers spoke to the class, 

The 'class' was restricted to the front rows alas,  

Our story-telling sessions and endless chatters at the back, 

I miss them so and I want them back.  

The groups that we made and the groups that were formed, 

The internal conflicts and clashes that broke and made new bonds, 

I remember the way we pulled each others’ legs,  

To get them back, I could sacrifice whatever it takes.  

Do you guys remember our camp at F64- 

When messengers were sent to call us but for the classes we did not go,  

How we looked forward to the punishments and the suspensions, 

Days that offered us endless fun and activities that remain unmentioned. 

I miss those days, I miss them so..  

If only I could get them back, I would want nothing more.  

The late night movies and the midnight hide and seek that we played  

When night watchmen mistook us for thieves that went unchained--  

When chilli chicken and red meat were so much of a treat-  

And a big bowl of ice cream drowned all pangs of defeat 

If only I could get those days back, I would jump with joy-

For there remained hidden the few favorite things of my life.

The Art of Small Talk

The other day I was discussing this with a friend who seemed to suffer from the same problem...in today's world, the disease that we suffer from is not only a problem, it is a serious ailment-- you see, we suffer from a condition that results in us being tongue-tied every time we meet a stranger or a far away acquaintance, desperately trying to figure out how to engage in a drawing room conversation. For me, the problem goes a step further...I not only find it difficult to hold meaningful conversations with strangers or acquaintances but also sometimes with long lost friends or relatives, where common denomination factor is at the lowest.

I don’t like giving advices unless explicitly sought, I hate encroaching on anyone's private life, I would die before asking personal questions like who the person is engaged to at a particular time, and as for discussing politics, religion or world peace, I find it a waste of time and effort, especially when I know very little of the person's inclination towards any of the above topics. Then, someone please tell me, what else could one talk about...what is required to be a good conversationalist. My friend was famously advised by her husband, that when you have nothing to talk about when you walk into a home, appreciate the interiors, talk about pets if there is one, or if you see a library and like the books that you see there, initiate a conversation on the same. Well, surely that’s a smart idea and can be used when you walk into a home, but if you meet someone on the street or the shop, or someone drops into your home, or gives you the once in a blue moon call, what do you do then? I look at my friend quizzically and give her the enlightened look which translates into ‘see, I got you there.’

As we get more inhibited, and draw definite limits on what could be discussed in public and what not, as the boundaries of acceptability gets more stringent, we are often at loss to initiate a conversation where two people don’t read the same books, or watch the same movies, work in the same socio-economic environment or meet the same set of people.

I sometimes envy people who are uninhibited and can chatter away without thinking of the consequences. Like people who don’t think twice about enquiring about your family plans or the state of your marital bliss, who cooks the dinner at home, or which side of the bed you get up in the morning…yes, I know I have exaggerated here, but believe me I am often asked such impertinent personal questions, that makes me go all red in the face.

But the fact remains that I am a very poor drawing room conversationalist and yet to master the art of holding an intelligent conversation outside the group of people who share similar interests in life, have similar hobbies or alike professions, who think and act like I do or who don’t wait to take the lead in the discussion.

With women of the same age, it is a safe bet to talk about the latest fashion or the hottest hunk in town, but what about the rest of mankind. Do we discuss books, where our choices could be completely different, or movies, ditto, or politics, which is the most controversial topic of all….pray, tell me what to do??

Random Misgivings

I wanted to write..and I wanted to feel optimistic while I wrote. There were nice things that I wanted to visualize, a happy cheerful family enjoying an evening tete-a-tete, a tranquil holiday in the white beaches of goa, dancing to the beats of bhangra with friends in a party or just tucking under the blanket with soft romantic music and a book in my hand…oh, the pleasures of life.

But even as I write these, I have to force myself to imagine such pleasures; things that were easy and part of my life once—why is it so difficult to visualize it today? Why are my thoughts so numb, actions so frantic, dreams so dreaded that I am unable to bask in the warmth of the morning sunshine, the coolness of the evening breeze, the love of my dear ones.

The Bombay tragedy has left a scar on my impressionable mind (Yeah I am old enough not to use this word, but my mind is still like the soft sponge which absorbs everything around). I am gullible and easily swayed. I weep for those who have lost their loved ones.

The other day on TV, after the attack, someone was talking about not imbibing children with hatred. I completely agree—but what happens to the 11 year old boy who lost his mom in the attack, the tiny tots who had to complete the final rites of their parents who were lost in the gruesome acts.

Terrorist attacks have happened before, but it was never so closer home. While I felt it before too, it was never so forceful as this time when I lived in the same city and had slowly developed a sense of oneness with people around.

This morning, as we drove to office, there was huge police presence on the roads. My mind wondered at the possibility of something horrible. I feared for the husband whose multinational bank was towered in one of the prominent office premises. As newspapers flash stories of terrorist SIMs found in Bengal, I fear for the parents who are going about their daily duties in a small town in that state. I fear for the brother, who is going to soon fly down--are airports safe anymore? I fear for the in-laws who are in transit from North India…the fact is I fear for the safety of all my dear ones, and a phone that is not reachable is enough to give me a panic attack. Is this the state that a free world should live in?

And, what with the economic crisis engulfing the minds of one and all. Can there be peace in anything anymore? I have left the job of a National Sales Head in a multinational company at the drop of a hat, moved on to a much lesser role of a Deputy General Manager – marketing, to be away from the rate race, to have a balanced life. But the insecurities that I see around me daily, the look of bewilderment and hurt that everyone seems to carry with them, the act of self defense that makes people bitchy and sycophants, the hurt, utter helplessness that seems to engulf one and all, makes me want to throw the towel and say ‘Enough is Enough.’ Let’s do something more fruitful now. Let’s not be dependent on others. Let’s chart our own independent paths.

If there is a vision, a stronger voice, it is time for the voice to speak up. It is time for someone forceful to say with utmost sincerity, ‘Yes, We Can’. If the apathy around us is not overcome, if we fear to take the bold steps today, if we are still resistant to changes, then the future of the world is indeed bleak. For the future of tomorrow, we should all act with courage now.

The Sibling Relationship

One of the most endearing phases of one's life is the small moments that one spends with the brother or sister. I am told when the brother was born, my reaction to the situation was nothing to be proud of. Right from pulling him down from the cot when no one was around, to throwing my tantrums when attention was given to him, I went the whole hog.

But slowly and unknown to my own feelings, he became one of the most integral part of my life. We became partners in crime for better or for worse and stood by each other whenever required. I remember how he irritated me with his endless needling, poking in my personal space, following me with his silly banters, taking the living breath out of me with the threaded cockroaches and lizards that was innocently dangled in front of my screaming face. But inspite of all that, days were always empty whenever he was not around and the animated, liveliness that I felt with him was always missing when he was not around.

Slowly, our education and our professions took us in two different directions. We still were as possessive about each other as only siblings can be, but the opportunities to be together, to fight or share our moments of joy, became few and far in between.

As each of us went our separate paths and then leaned on to partners new, I remember the resistance that we both felt towards each other’s partner. We felt cheated of the unique bonding that we had and it seemed that someone else was forcing into the space which was reserved just for us. We fought and screamed, and for a short time managed to create a lot of disturbance in each other’s life. But, now when I look back, I know all those moments were a part of the growing up phase and added the ‘zing’ to life.

Now that we are both married and leading our own lives, we know that our priorities in life have become different. We have now become more accepting of the different spouses and have extended the protective shield to encompass them too. But, even today, when I am in a difficult situation and need a shoulder to lean on, I still miss my brother, who now stays in far away London. Other than my dad and husband, he is the only one that I can trust with my life.

I wish he comes back to India soon and be here for good.

The White Tiger

Has anyone read The White Tiger? It is quite strange for a Booker winner or may be only ‘such’ books win the booker.

Anyways, here is this half baked cookie from some obscure town in India, who gets the opportunity of his life to work in a big city with a master (is that a politically correct word any more) who is quite considerate and nice. But as the master's personal life takes a turn (for the better or the worse..not clear at all), so does his relationship with this bloke.

Though it is all hunky dory on the face, evil ambition starts to take a shape in this man’s mind. And one fine day, he ends his master’s life to run away with a “red’ suitcase filled with cash.

The tragedy of this book is its over simplification of the devilish act and how for no strong reason, mankind finds it easy to end one another’s life. Read it if you must, but it is eminently passable, other than a few nuances which are very indigenous……like the village bullies who are a caricature of our politicians, the overzealous grandmother in the backyard who fights for every penny but does not think twice before helping an extended family, the rickshaw puller with his veins standing out and many such characters.

It would help to have the protagonist’s character more defined, with a little more insight to what makes him the monster that he is. But few instances, where he stresses the need to have a belly to do well in life, or when he comes back to collect the small child that he has left in gurgaon, or his attitude towards the old folks who lost their child in the road accident are quite poignant and nicely sketched.

The moral degeneration of our society, as observed from our literature or movies, or the cruelties of our daily life, is quite disturbing. Be it the terrorist acts or the everyday torture that the innocents face, can only be stopped if individually and collectively we develop good ethics and a conscience.

Terror in My thoughts

It has been a terrible last few days..inspite of the pledge not to lose interest and blog everyday, I simply was not in the frame of mind to write. The guilt of sitting at home, safe and sound, when hundreds of people were losing their lives, is difficult to express.

While you say a silent prayer for your good fortune, you also weep for the child who has lost his parent, for the elderly uncle who cried for the only bread winner of the family, for the young spouse who instead of honeymooning was busy arranging the funeral of the dead partner...yes, it has been such a crazy, upside down world. The secured city around me seemed to be tumbling like a pack of cards. The most difficult thing was to watch the action live on tv. While it was difficult to tear one's eye from the gruesome reality and engage in anything else, it was equally difficult to witness the look of surrender on people's eye as they waited for their near ones, to hear about the messages that people sent in their last moments, to watch the mother who was inconsolable while bidding farewell to the brave son who lost his life saving others. It was heart wrenching to look at the wife who whispered her last endearments for the husband who died in uniform while braving the terrorist. Such were the sights and scenes that enveloped us all. On so many occasions, I wished I was the brave heart doing duty in the line of fire. I wish I could be the commando in uniform, throwing the challenge back to the terrorist, and be of use to the country in its worst hour of need. It takes special people and special courage to be there in the thick of action and I simply was not that blessed. However, to be sitting idle, with all the vent up anger and frustration, at the way the country was being run and the audacity of the action, had a numbing impact on me.

I wish the anger that all of us have today are better channelized and does not die as the days pass. While the wound is still fresh, we should collectively take a pledge to change ourselves as a society which is accountable and respected for it honesty and courage. Was it possible for someone to do the dastardly act if they did not get internal help?

If the coasts were better manned and monitored, could someone violate our coast line so easily? What would take a government to behave the way US did after 9/11 which ensured that the action was never repeated in their country…as a society should not we start asking those questions to our politicians? In a political blame game, shouldn't we as a society and media as our voice, ask both the parties to shut their mouths and instead deliver.

And most importantly, shouldn’t each of us start being accountable for our actions. The next time you jump the light by mistake, stop taking the easy way out and bribing the policeman to go scot free. Remember, such small actions, the little greed, add up to things monumental, tragedies beyond comprehension.

As society unless we develop a moral, it will always be easy for the outsider to exploit our weaknesses and wreck havoc. Shouldn’t each of us stop in our path and confront the greedy politician, the sloppy policeman, or the corrupt official, who has been engaging in bribery of any form….be it giving false ration cards or unauthorized voters card.

Each of us, individually and collectively, needs to take action. Politicians are a corrupt lot, but more importantly, they are usually a reflection of the society. So unless, we raise our voice for our rights, and be dutiful to our social obligations, we will always live in the fear of such actions.

Let us be UNITED for once and STOP everything CORRUPT and EVIL from entering our society and harming not only our today, but also our future generations.

Big Boss Syndrome

The husband has to come to office early every day (Can you beat it-- I am at office by 8.15 am regularly and to give me company are the office boys, busy cleaning and mopping the floor.) I get these strange looks from them every time I step inside...like..weirdo, she must be crazy or a half backed wannabe who is lost it in life. But friends, my tragedy is that I not only share the home and the hearth with the husband, I also share the car. Which means if it is 8.30 in the morning that he is scheduled for the call with his French boss****, we need to be bundled off the mattress, into a fast forward 'get ready to office mode' and be there staring blankly at our laptops by 8.15 am, at our respective offices. While I don't grudge him this discomfort (you see I am magnificient in my kindness and besides he gets the lunch and the breakfast ready everyday), I have reservations about leaving office very late in the evenings. For I really enjoy being a couch potato in the evenings. And here comes the favorite part of the day. With a chilled drink (and dont be naughty people, i really mean the soft variety) in hand and a couple of chicken cutlets, a perfect evening starts with the antics of balika vadhu, rolling onto the melodies of Indian idol and finishing off with the histrionics of 'Big Boss'. Oh, how I hate it that Big Boss has ended for this season. The highlight of the day was gaping at the hysterics in this one hour long program and then chatting endlessly about how human behavior could be so vile and bitchy (throwing into the air, the simple fact that we had enjoyed watching the bitchiness ;() Distracting a little from my daily routine (and actually there is nothing more to be said...it actually is a boring state of existence), I really wonder why as a sociey we had been so consumed by the filth and the vile of 'big boss'. May be it is the straight forward life that we live every day, the morality that we have to adhere to in every step, the social ethics and behaviour that binds our every move, that forces us to rejoice and laugh at the complete madness, the unruliness of a completely mad life. Whatever it is, I enjoyed watching boss...and I am glad that the contestant that I rooted for went on to win the contest. Good luck and happy viewing to all couch potatoes like me...hope we get to see many such programs....By the way, as an ending shot, I have a question for you all...Do you think TV could spoil a relationship ....I saw a program by Rajat Kapoor the other day which suggested likewise...someone even suggested it could take the position of a second woman in a man's life... **** My husband's French boss actually sinks everytime he thinks...I hear that is how the dialect goes...whatever...enjoy!

My Resolution

I promise to scribble in this space at least once every day... :). Bear with me people....i have just got this bug all over again

The Never Ending Dillema

I always dreamt to be a highly qualified individual, as I am sure each of you also fantasized to be. At school, I was in the track to meet my dreams- --parents delighted at how I managed to top my classes and do well in my board exams and also excelled in extra-curricular activities that proved to be a winner. However, the real twist came when I stepped out of the close comforts of family to pursue my higher studies and thus ‘move towards a promising future.’ I took to friends and parties, shopping and fun, as a fish takes to water. This ensured that dreams started falling apart in no time, and success eluded me in every step. Smarting from my recent failures, the adulation in a not so cool 'MBA' college did a lot to my bruised ego, but unfortunately, nothing much in terms of career.

Subsequently, there was this constant fight to leave a crippled career and go back to a decent (I mean the INSEAD, ISBs of the world) school. This meant leaving the comfort zone of financial independence and back to a rigorous life of studies and projects. While I was more than willing to slog it out (a bad job is the worst pain in the a**), the feeling of losing the wallet always restrained me from pursuing my new ‘dream’.

Now, it might be too late to do what I want. When my juniors inform me about this cool ‘school’ that they got admitted too, I sincerely feel delighted for them. However, in the same breath, sets in a deep realization that I have lost out on opportunities of life and the golden dreams have seen the sunset forever.

The elite club is not going to my domain ever. Though I might be successful in career and life, the blue blooded, royal feeling of being in an elite club, the alma mater to be proud of, will always be a far away reality.

Friends, here’s the hard lesson for anyone who cares…if you have the brains and aptitude and have the dream to make it big, don’t waste your youth for it will never ever come back to you. Take the hard path, or otherwise you might regret later in life.

My First Post

I had a blog before..talk2jayatri.blogspot.com; but somewhere along the way I seemed to have lost the plot. uploaded too many personal pictures which made it look more of a personal album than a sensible account of things that are interesting. This blog is an effort to present myself more coherently. However, this too will be a very personalized outlook to various events that happen with and around me. I hope to include my personal and professional experiences together in a way that makes memory easy when I recall it a few years down the line. It will be a simple account of an average middle-class girl's outlook of life...i hope it will touch the chord of my readers.