Bewitched...

A wriggle of my nose and things go up in the air
A laser beam shoots, when I give a hard stare.
A snap of my fingers, lights up a flame
A click of my boots to fly like a plane

All these I wish, Powers that I had
All these and I would make you go mad.

I would make you lose your shorts
Probably light up your shirt.
Pull down your pants
or dress you in vivid colours.

I may shower you with flowers
Probably with slimy toads.
Drench you in inky rain
or just cause you some pain


Alas, I should say, the wishes remain
Only a butt-load of Attitude and not Restrain

Shed them...

Shed them slowly my love,
shed them slowly.
First the doubt in your heart,
Second that little fear.

Shed them slowly 
and come in to my arms.

Shed them slowly my love,
That ignorance you fake,
That old heart break.

Shed them slowly
and hold me tight

Shed them slowly my love.
That mask that you wear,
The walls around your heart

Shed them slowly
And embrace my love!!!

A Special Evening

5:00 pm

The lights were turned low, curtains drawn and the scent of paneer roses filled the air. She walked slowly to the centre of the room, gingerly carrying a crystal bowl filled with water. She put it down gently on the glass coffee table and mocked herself for not thinking of bringing it empty and then filling it. She had been walking in slow motion for a full 5 minutes. She disappeared in to the dining and re-appeared with a bottle in one hand and a small plastic cover in the other. She bent close and let two drops from the bottle touch the water. It was rose water. Then she dug in to the plastic bag and after much ruffling pulled out her hand clutching a fistful of rose petals. Gently she strew them on the now calm water. A minute later she had lit a white cup candle and let it float amidst the roses and watched the crystal bowl glow.

She had it all planned. Why had it to be the guys always trying to impress the girls with a well planned romantic date. Girls can also do that. That is what she planned. A romantic evening to be with her special one. Breaking out of her reverie she quickly dashed in to her bedroom. She had plenty of time but wanted to get dressed slowly.

The saree was very pretty, she had liked it at first sight and had kept it locked away for some special occasion. Its calling had come. She draped it gently, lost in her thoughts, all the while smiling and blushing, thinking about her guy. Around came the pallu and went over her left shoulder and she silently squealed in joy. It looked gorgeous. She looked gorgeous. She decided to let her hair loose for a change and went for the minimal make-up. It was a special day and she wanted her special shimmering lipstick. With the final touch of the bindi to her forehead, she looked in to the mirror and could only smile shyly. She looked perfect.

Shifting her gaze to the bottom draw of her dressing table she had just pulled open, she smiled yet again. She dug in and retrieved two small boxes. It was going to be special alright.

6:00 pm

The message had been simple. "Come home early".

His other messages asking "why" and "what" were left unanswered. He had no clue what was up but didn't want to disappoint her. He was on time and lost in thought as he was about to ring the bell. The door opened and he stood there caught in mid action with his hand outstretched and eyes wide, staring at this beautiful apparition smiling at him from the doorstep. He recovered quickly and beamed as he watched her smile and draw him inside.

The living room looked different. The lights low, the decorated coffee table, a mild-sweet fragrance and he counted 5 candles placed in different convenient places. Impressed. And then again his eyes were back to her. 

She had gone in to their kitchen and was now returning with two tall glasses of Sherbet. A glass each in hand they settled on the sofa and sat opposite each other. He wanted to appraise her and watched her doing the same. Whatever she had planned, it was working perfectly. The ruby red drink cooled his throat but warmed up his insides. His mind now relaxed and mood romantic.

"What is it?", he asked. "Ssssh, I will tell you later.", she said. "Oh! c'mon tell no!", he pleaded. "Have some patience", she said and stood smiling and slowly moved towards him. He never liked lipstick and she knew that, but this time he did not want to stop her. As her arms went around his neck, he could smell her. She had no perfume on, yet smelled divine. They sat there, snuggling in each others' arms.

A few minutes later, she stood up. "I have something for you". Saying that she walked off in to the bedroom. The moment had finally come, the secret of the evening was to be revealed. He sat back in the sofa and recalled how and when she had planned all this. There had been no signs, she had been her usual groggy self that morning, dressed in her nightie and somberly cooking and packing his lunch. Everything as usual except for that message around noon asking him to be home early.

She had a small fruit basket in her hand. Clueless yet again, he started to rise but she motioned for him to sit. His eyes followed her as she slowly came around to sit next to him. Silently she handed him the basket. She was now doing her eye-talk.

He scanned it, searched for what was special in a fruit basket and that is when he found it. The two small boxes.

With no patience to play guessing games, he opened the first one to his reach. Inside was a small porcelain doll. It was a little baby doll, sleeping in its blue knickers, dreamily smiling and its chubby cheeks blushed pink. The second had another little doll, this had a pink skirt and flower on its headband and just like the other,pink cheeks and a dreamy smile.

Perplexed he looked up at her. All she offered was a smile. But it was different, she was beaming. He too knew the eye-talk by now and tried to ask "what is it?" and he read her eyes to interpret "What do think it is".

He blinked and blinked, pleading for her to say what it was. Finally she pinched his cheeks and whispered "Daddy".

The evening was special indeed.

Traffic Signal...

It was a lazy morning with no real task to accomplish. So after a quick shower, dress up and dabbing of some cream-powder-perfume and gulps of a so called breakfast, I was ready.

Faced with the option of a Rs.100 auto ride and a Rs.14 bus ride and given the time available on hand, I decided to do the 700 m dash to the nearest bus stand. There it was, ready and roaring, the bus to my destination, well at least it would be taking much closer to my destination. Window seat and all, I was set. About 45 minutes later, I was on board an auto heading to The Office.

The Auto. It always amuses about how much of my surroundings I am able to take in while in an Auto as compared to the times when I am in a Car. Probably it is cause of the need to stay alert when being driven around by a stranger or the fact that there are no doors and raised glass windows to cocoon you in to a very personal space. In an auto, you are bound to have lots of things coming in and going out.

As the three wheeler kept rumbling and rolling down the road, it came to a stop at a signal. Slowly other vehicles too followed suit. A couple of bikes rolled up in to the front line. Typical.

Typical. It is typical for the auto guys to make abrupt turns and screeching halts. Typical for bikers to criss-cross other vehicles and get in to the tiniest gaps available. It is typical for the car fellas to block the way and take tedious U-turns and park haphazardly. And all the more typical for all of them to blame each of the others for the chaos.

At the signal now, as the vehicles roll to a stop, I take the time to observe my surroundings. Two guys in their courier company's Red - tees, looking anxiously at the signal. A matching red bag slung across their shoulders, unclear whether full or empty. A techie ahead of my auto, with a backpack that says "SAP" with a tiny water bottle tucked to the side, waiting for the signal. On a similar wait I also find two middle aged men, bike-pooling and wearing identical stripped shirts. Then there is a guy sandwiched between two big black bags and one of them read "SONY". Not difficult to guess that it was a Video Camera and his tripod accompanying him.

Just before the signal could turn green, I noticed one other biker with a bag hanging from the side. It was odd. It was a bag that I have seen the milk man carry around in the mornings. It felt out of place with a guy dressed in full formals complete with shoes and socks to match. Still trying to figure that out, I watched as the vehicles now came to life again, well some never really went to sleep.

The cameraman, veered to the lane on the right and vanished from eye-sight. The SAP guy went straight and the colour coded bike poolers rode along. The courier guys, I didn't have extra pair of eyes to follow, never realised where they had gone.

The chaos of further more workind day morning traffic continued and slowly I turned my head down towards the book that I had been reading,  wanting to finish a few more pages before I had to get off. After a stop at two other signals and then a final left turn, finally as my auto ground to a halt, I paid my fare and hopped off, all the while listening to "CHANDRALEKA" on high volume and praying for a place where I could just DANCE.

PS. Did I mention that sudden "SLOCH" sound I heard? Well it was birdie-poo landing splat on the road. Lucky fellows, it missed its mark.

Lessons from my closet....

Bangalore is on full Airconditioning mode. It has been plesant the past two days, gentle breeze and mild showers. But this is not a blog about the climate in Bangalore, so I shall move on.

I just realised that the toughest thing to do in life is to LET GO.

What brought on this wisdom? Well cleaning the closet can be tiring and at the same time enlightening. There were no skeletons in them but had many relics from the past. Yes, antique pieces worth nothing. I shall stop exaggerating and simply state that they were CLOTHES. Collections from an style-age gone by and OUT-grown by. Deciding to give away them taught a few lessons.

I never knew that I had so much of unwanted and unusable stuff.

I never realised how much space that they occupied while my new clothes were crammed in some corner.

I never realised how many good dresses I had which are yet to be worn.

I never realised that the beautiful dress I coveted is now just an OLD one.


Where the wisdom???

By holding on to old feelings, I lose out on new ones. By holding on, I never realised the worth of what I have in hand. And what seems the greatest joy/sorrow today will change.

In short, I learnt to keep an open mind and never to lose hope.

If by reading this, you get a feeling that I am sulking, please be reassured that I am fine. Just idling the afternoon and trying to blog via a small iPod. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Night at the Airport!!!

My little nephew, the latest one just 7months old, is visiting all of us for the first time. Us being his dear aunts and grand mas, pas and an eagerly waiting cousin. We were waiting to see his grape sized eyes and hold this little baby doll. We were waiting at the airport.

His mom and his sister, our darlings, completed the lovely trio whose arrival was being eagerly sought by all of us.

Dog-father Part I.. Every dog has its day!!!

He was deep in slumber. Phat!! a stone nicked his butt. With a painful Yelp! he got up, hit his head, dazed and confused, he bent over and ran for cover. His feet took him right but a pair of legs stood there, so he made a quick dash to the opposite side.

 "Naai tholla thaangala" (troublesome dogs) muttered the human.

After reaching a safe distance, he turned to look. The face was odd, not like that of the human who had given him curd rice the other day. He did not like him. Casting one last glance at the white car that had been his shelter for the night, he walked away slowly, searching for another comfortable spot.

The memory of the white car lingered. It was his, he had marked it so. As night arrived, the temptation to go back HOME won over.

His feet, light as ever, carried him gently to the very spot where the car stood now. Sniffing around for another animal/human, he cautiously maneuvered his small body beneath the car. Once under, sleep caught him quickly as if he had been sleepless for many nights. The early morning sun, smoothly snuck in and woke him up gently. He wanted to sleep more and lazily stretched his paws and yawned as wide as he could.

"EY CHI THU NAAYE...ODU IGENDHU" (Get out of here you DOG). Phat!!! a stone was hurled at him. Hit him right on his neck, sharp and painful. Yelping, he ran for cover. His whimpers did not stop for a while, the stone had hit him hard.

As the day stretched out, he wandered around his area keeping out of trouble. A good lunch from a dustbin satiated him and his siesta spot was waiting at the park. The later part of the evening was spent being chased by the watchman, running after two-wheeler/autos, wandering around his area, scavenging other dustbins, pissing on HIS pavements and the occasional bark to show-off.

As he pawed his neck, lazily, he nicked the wound from the morning. The bitter memory convinced him to make good use of his pavement tonight. It was colder and damper than what he was getting used to. But it would suffice.

"Appada, ozhindhuju naai" (What a relief, dog is gone), muttered the human as he washed his car.

It was always spotless white and that is why he loved it. He stood afar and watched the cleaning progress. Suddenly, he was alert. Head up, ears sharp, legs ready to run at the speed of lightning.

He dipped his head low, looked around the perimeter and then tip-toed and sneaked behind the car. The human was still busy cleaning and was now at the hood. He could see the feet moving, white as always, but they were still at the front. NOW!! Inside his head he felt it. Gingerly he moved to his left. The left rear wheel was at his mercy.

He lifted his leg slowly, taking in the moment, it was his now. The freshly washed, shining and clean, Tyre and therefor the car, were now MARKED as his, FOREVER.

His head held high in pride, he walked away, rejoicing in his conquest of what was HIS.

Misplaced emotions...

yes.. it happened today morning... she was very angry.. this girl... responsible for making a handful of women flex their muscles and breathe in rhythm and work their bodies towards Fitness....

the reason.. someone pointed out that she was behind schedule.. aka Me saying she was LATE...

the result was a grumpy faced trainer who lead the entire class with an iron fist...

We always have a problem with dealing with our emotions.. I know i do... and it got me thinking how we misplace our emotions on some vulnerable object rather than treating the root cause...

1. hamara ghar ka darwaja (the door in our house).... poor thing.. gets slammed most of the times... had borne the brunt of my anger/hurt over the years... bears a souvenir from each encounter..

2. my idupu (waistline)... u would have heard about eating to ease emotional cravings... been there and done that many many times... if i am bored, I EAT.. if i am sad, i eat... if i am hungry, OBVIOUSLY i eat... sometimes it is chocolate, sometimes sweets... ice creams also happen along the way.. condition being that all items consumed should have high calorie content and fattening to the last bite/lick as the case may be..

3. pillow... who has not ever drenched their pillow??? atleast on one night, the poor thing would have soaked in our sorrow.. people crying out of joy are rare and they don't shy away and hide their face when doing it... for every exam result that didn't work out.. or every love letter that returned to sender... the pillow knows it all... (presently a source of pure unadulterated salt in my household)

the point....

why misplace the emotions?? treat the cause... it is the best way...

if my trainer had simply resolved to be on time hereafter..it would automatically shut any such comments in the future...

also slamming the door on the face of that X.. putting salt/chilli powder in their food (laxative is bit extreme and Goundamani style)..... and instead of burying ur face in the pillow______( u can catch the drift here)....

bottom-line... i seem to use this a lot these days.. if we learn to deal with our emotions better.. we could lead a happier and healthier life...

incidentally... grim faced, zero smile trainer was very effective in making the plump, out of shape women obey her every command... it worked...

The art of conversation

It was lunch hour and was supposed to be like it had been on any other day... my company for lunch was the audit coordinator.. poor fellow.. he gets tossed around between the management and the auditors...

i did not feel like eating a silent meal.. and didnt want to discuss the boring news on tv there.. and so i asked him whether he listens to music... that conversation opener led to a lively and fun lunch all the way..

I love to talk.. its so fun choosing the right words to express urself.. especially when u r having a fun argument..

there was once an English lesson where the narrator explains that u can open a conversation with a stranger by talking about the climate.. these days with sun frying our brains.. wonder who would be pleased to talk abt the climate... but surely they would talk.. the heat, the sweat, Ranjini's de-hydration and the 3 for 2 AC deal...

the intention of the lunch conversation was to spend the minutes of munching in a relaxed manner.. no work related topics.. as it turned out we did not differ much in the music we preferred... wonder how it would have turned out if we had different tastes... even then.. music always makes a good conversational topic.. definitely everyone would have something to say about it...

as lunch was drawing to its natural end.. the topic shifted to food.. a foodie gorging seafood on tv caused the change...that lead me to share a story of my little trip to a sea shore sea food hotel...and so on and so forth till we left the area..

keeping mum is good.. but a little talking is great.. now my audit coordinator is a dost... that makes my work far more easy...

conversation helps..the more natural it is, the more effective.. conversation connects people... conversation is the purpose Language was found...

how cool...

thats what i wanted people to say when they sawmy email id.. or for that matter even my blog page...

it all started when i wanted to create my very first mail id... i had seen a girl i knew use an interesting id.. oruvayaadi... so catchy... i was hooked.. i wanted something that funky.. prob was couldn't think of one..

i could have used a good nickname if i had one.. but "blade ganga".. no way.. and definitely not what my mom calls me...or in fact what my sister calls me...

numerology was discovered for e-mail.. face it.. ganga_123.. one of the many alternatives.. ganga1983 will help u calculate my age.. ganga16 will leave u quizzing whether i am sweet 16... but it is so uncool to have 007 to ur id.. i dont like that.. where is the individuality people...

it is also funny when people add a "foru" to their id.. gangaforu.. yuck..

the mysterious ones avoid their name completely..like my fav "oliveoyl" or "aqua21".. lets see.. a cartoon character that i can compare myself to..hmm.. hmm...i love garfield..but its not my style...and the other option..libra16.. too many funny jokes in my mind already..

with all this mumbo jumbo behind it.. the moment of truth had come.. i needed an id.. and i couldnt get the one with just my name.. contrary to MY popular belief, there are many people names Ganga..and even GangaB is common.. so had to think of something original and quick...

so here is it people.. its me... itsgangahere@gmail.com... isn't that catchy?? well now its part of my identity.. and yes i am greatly dependent on gmail now.. and have not visited my ids on yahoo, rediff and even hotmail in a long long long time... long live gmail.. long live my id..

Patience and Courage...

The size of the audience was huge and the speaker was yet to arrive. He was a noted spiritual guru and the people in the hall were all waiting to hear his words of wisdom. With all seats taken, the late comers had to be satisfied with standing up against the walls and many others had to stand out-side in the open braving the morning sun.

He was late.

The hours passed by and still there was no sign of him. The crowd started moving. Slowly people started moving out, mumbling unrecognisable words. By noon the crowd had dwindled to half. Only time passed and the spiritual guru was nowhere to be seen.

The sun had set and it was almost 9 o'clock. That is when a Drunk stumbled into the hall. Screaming few obscenities, he moved towards the dias. He flirted with the ladies in the front rows and overcome with intoxication, fell to the ground.

The remaining crowd too left. A handful few, faithfully waited for the guru to turn up.

The drunkard now straightened himself up. With no sign of liquor in his blood, he walked briskly to the mike. It was the spiritual guru himself.

He addressed the now seated group and said "The two hardest tests on the spiritual road are the patience to wait for the right moment and the courage not to be disappointed with what we encounter."

(By Paulo Coehlo in Veronika decides to Die)

In every step in life, from the day i read these words i have understood and applied them consciously... and i know that this is one lesson for life