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Thursday, July 21, 2011

A 'fishy' collision...



It was the last working day of the week. Mom and I were waiting for hubby to come home, after the grocery purchase for the weekend. Papa had already left to India.

10:30 p.m. 
Me: Hello? Where are you?
Hubby: At the parking lot… will be there in five minutes.

So Mom and I arranged plates and got ready for dinner… Meanwhile she also diplomatically made space in the fridge for the items that were on the way. We switched on the TV, but my mind was programmed for the five minute wait, the noise the entrance door makes when someone enters the building, followed by the ring of the bell at our apartment.

5..10…15 minutes passed, and the bell did not ring.

I optimistically expected a traffic block, which could scarcely happen at this part of the town especially at this hour of the day. I took my mobile and dialed him on the speed dial. The call opened initially to the noise of a crowd, followed by his voice.

“Hello..Actually there is a small problem…I met with an accident here…a guy on a two wheeler was hit by our car and he is being taken to the hospital…I am surrounded by his people here…I will call you back”.

The statement sent chill waves down my spine. I ran to my Mom and broke the news to her.
We’re just two ladies at home. We do not know what exactly happened. It is a country where punishments are quick and extreme for even trivial faults. We are expats here. We do not have lawyers or support of any kind. I broke down emotionally, as pessimistic thoughts clouded my head..which also froze my ability to think. I took my mobile and rang up a colleague. He did not answer the call…it was 11 pm already. I rang up another colleague who said that he was already at the accident site, but also added that he couldn’t make out anything.

I was convinced that someone died and that we were going to face a criminal lawsuit. Tears started gushing out of my eyes... followed by persistent whining and melodrama. My Mom, who couldn’t stand me crying, took great effort to hide her own and consoled me despite the mountain of anxiety burning within her. Soon I got calls from various friends of his, who pacified me with updates every now and then. The latest one being, that the victim had come from the wrong direction, on a one-way road and the mistake was all his. He was not injured and was discharged from hospital after dressing up minor wounds. Hubby was in the police station now, where the police tried to document an FIR.  Although this much information was enough to stop the tears, I couldn’t get back to my normal self unless and until I could see and talk to him. The FIR could take some time, I was told.
 Mom and I thanked the Almighty for being there when the world was miles away.

Soon, there was a knock at our door. I rushed to open it... it was a friend, and he held out a small plastic bag to me, and said : “ Hi Anita…I just came from the police station…saw him …he is fine… by the way this is some fresh fish…he said , if he has to stay longer at the police station, it will become stale, and you might be pissed”

What do I say to that?    "Thank you" ????!!!!!!
His friends must now have built an excellent image about me... the wife who would be worried about the fish going stale when husband is at the police station. Sigh..!.

Anyway, hubby was back home in another hour, by God’s grace, and I quietly explained to him that come what may, I just can’t do without fresh fish :-D

Friday, July 15, 2011

Being me !


I was the youngest in my family for several years, until my cousin was born. Its not a cakewalk, my friend. Yes, I was pampered to bits…but it all came at a cost !!!. Here are a few prices I pay to this day, for the unintentional fault of being the youngest and these might be true for you if you’ve been there too.


You may be a he or a she, but your family refers to you as ‘It’.

They will take you for movies and picnic, but never will the choice of movie/picnic spot be yours.

You are shushed if you try to speak when they are discussing something.

If at all you speak, they will find grammatical mistakes in your sentence, or simply laugh for reasons only known to them.

If you make the mistake of: singing a song by the wrong lyrics/writing poetry/speak English in your younger years, it will be remembered by them all your life and will be recited even in front of your spouse.

As you grow older, you grow younger in their heads.

When you complete high school / degree / graduation, they will wonder how it even happened! (Your grades wouldn’t matter)

To you they increasingly appear to be silly people who do not understand the concept that once toddlers will not be toddlers forever.

At your marriage they will laugh and pity your spouse.

They will ensure that the spouse also doesn’t take you seriously.

After your marriage they will continue to make decisions.

You will be shushed in front of your spouse.

They will make long distance calls to your hostel/workplace and wind up asking you to check whether the front door is properly locked, and not to play with power plugs.

You will not be entrusted with money, gold, keys to home/car, umbrella, purse …in short, any valuables.

Whenever they get a chance to book tickets for you, they think aloud that it seemed like yesterday they booked a half ticket for you. Every time.

If at all you make a serious statement at any point in your life, they will annoy you further by a melodramatic reminiscence of the frock and shoes you wore at age 3, which sits in the in the Godrej wardrobe of your ancestral home.

They will make you feel that you did a terrible crime by growing up.

 ;-) Here is to all my folks for whom I am still the little girl in a pink frock!  Yes, you are welcome.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

A super-cool B'day gift !

It was my birthday on June 15, and Indiblogger decided to give me a birthday gift !
Its true, I won Rs.10,000  in their contest to write on 'Real Beauty' , and the prize was announced on my birthday ! I couldn't ask for more !

Thanks to everyone who read that post on my blog, and to those who promoted, supported 
and selected my post on Indiblogger! I am so motivated ( and also scared now that I have to keep up a standard ) ! Thanks again !

You can scroll down to see my prize winning entry, or just click HERE.

You can find the Indiblogger prize winners on this page -  and navigate to see the prize winning entries.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Conversational Torture .. MUTED.


*Papa, Mummy , Hubby and me are on a road trip*


Me: You know what? There is one MNC in which if an employee completes 25 years of service, they acknowledge the tenure with a certificate and a pug !

Mummy: A pug ! Why would they give a pug ! 25 years of service… all for a pug? What if that guy doesn’t want the pug?

Me: May be they will give cash equivalent to the cost of the pug…Pugs are costly…atleast 30k for an old and dying one.

( Papa is surprisingly silent)

Mummy: Anyway I still don’t understand why they would do that.

Hubby: “Basically, pugs are useless. It has wrinkles on its face which needs to be brushed and cleaned on a regular basis, has to be fed special food and in return...it just lazes inside the house and poses for photographs. What a waste”

Me: “Who wouldn’t want to brush a pug…it is so cute ….” **unwarranted high pitch noises to justify the degree of cuteness**

Papa couldn’t stand it any longer and breaks the silence…

"What is a pug ?"

We all break into a roar of laughter…Few minutes later, after dramatically regaining my breath, I explain to him saying that it is a breed of dog commonly seen in the Vodafone ad. Well, we all know he hasn't seen that ad either unless it was aired in the news break.

 His expression changed from a question mark to complete regret on the time wasted discussing about this creature.

But sadly for him, the discussion goes on…as I explain animatedly about a guy whose family in India hesitates to come to stay with him, as they have a dog back home and cant part with it at any cost.

Mummy: This reminds me... Do u remember my ex colleague ABCD? Her daughter and family went to the US... Initially they decided to sell their puppy…later they thought of leaving it at their relative’s place where it will be taken care of…but emotional attachment to the pup took the better of them and finally the it got to go to US too !

Me: Oh my.. ! That could be costly right? What if after spending so much on its travel expense it dies after reaching there, succumbing to climate differences or something like that?
*Looks worried*

Mummy: You don’t worry about it too much…they will take care :D

Me: You know what…there is another guy from India who got the offer letter from our office, and accepted the offer … then he and his dog came first…his family came three months later!

Hubby: Oh ..! That is nothing... There is one animal saloon here…where they bathe puppies using dog shampoo…then they blow dry and brush its fur, and even pedicure and manicure them !!

(Papa is still in the car despite his exponentially increasing urge to escape, just because it was scorching heat outside)

But little did we know that he was cooking up a brilliant idea to silence all of us.

Papa : “ Do you know what Karl Marx said about pets” ?

Complete silence.



Epilogue: Thus ended the conversation about dogs, or even animals in general. Thanks to our collective knowledge about Karl Marx.

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