The Dark Knight Saga

Tweet

You meet a random person and start talking. What happens next?

Stalking random people on FB the other day,
Did I meet this Inglorious Basterd that one day!

He seemed to be normal, a perfect Pulp Fiction,
Till he told me that he was Batman who had an addiction.

He is the God Father who dreams of the Punjab,
The land where he wants to till and then ultimately, Kill Bill!

He has a thing for Italy he tells me,
He also has a thing for jazz, I tell you.

Does he love Catwoman? I dunno!
But his love for Reservoir Dogs, I sure do know!

He tells me that he is a figment - A figment of my imagination.
And that he doesn't really exist - except in the distant conversations!

At times, his nonsense comforts the distressed me.
At the other times, his sense confuses the schizophrenic me! 

He lives his life by a logic and a reason.
He believes in karma and that karma, is an effing bitch!

His deity is the dainty Sulgobari amma,
Who called out to him to save this dying world on a Jumma.

He is the wiseman, at least he says so.
For me, he is the nutty friend I know!

That day I think I nearly killed him,
When innocently I beseeched him,

So, the Batman is the Dark Knight, eh?
He banged his head on the wall in total dismay!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers 

by BlogAdda.

This post is also a dedication to the Batman, a friend I met recently.

Men On My Mind : Book Review

Tweet

Men On My Mind is a book by Radha Thomas as she takes on a journey to attain the unattainable. A quest for the unquenchable. A reach for the unreachable. A search for the unsearchable. The discovery of the PERFECT man! Like he exists! As if he exists! IFF he exists! Most women I know, know that there is no such thing as a Perfect man! Only imperfect morons! 

But unlike me, Radha did believe in the perfect man. One by one she scanned them on the pages of her life. First came Darren. Packed off by her family to a distant boarding school at Panchgani, Darren was like an oasis in the middle of the desert. Only that, Darren wasn't the only oasis Radha quenched her thirst from! When she realized the squeaky ratterty blabberty Darren wasn't quite the man for her, she left him barren for Johnny AND Sunil and a string of other guys. When Johnny and Sunil realise that Radha had been two timing them, they kill themselves! No! I was kidding. They ask her in unison, bol Radha bol tune yeh kya kiya? Kidding again! Anyway, while jumping from man to man, she also jumped from one best friend forever to another best friend forever.

When she had enough of Panchgani and Bombay, her family packs off to the capital city - Delhi. Here again she meets and makes new boyfriends and best friends forever. She also meets those creepy uncle types who have a thing for her. And how she avoids them. It is in Delhi that she takes up the mike on a big stage and discovers that singing is her passion - a passion apart from the guys in her life.

Bombay. Panchgani. Delhi. And she still hasn't found what she was looking for! None of these places seem to have satiated her. Forget the perfect men, they weren't even close to perfect! When someone seemed like he was the perfect one, it turns out that he seemed to be closet gay. A fact that he hadn't recognized or perhaps reconciled with. Yet. Radha was distraught. She had given up on man and mankind. Life was very hard for her. Indeed.

Her over protective but cool mom, cool - coz she smoked. Pretty cool for a mother, na? Okay! Her over protective and cool mom thought that her only daughter was throwing away her life to the dogs quite literally, here in India and so she decides to pack off the daughter to her sister in the USA with the strict warning - keep her away from guys! This sister - Radha's aunt, lived with them for a while when they were in Bombay. This excites Radha. The US meant new life, new freedom, new culture new best friend forever and of course new men! Also, this aunt of her's was a pretty cool one. The I'm sexy and I know it kinds.

In the US, she picks up the pieces of her life. And starts her life anew. New location, new people, new surroundings, new job. She starts working at her aunt's boutique. And then she switches her job, her men; moves to China, Fiji, New Zealand for a while, all for business purposes. Spends a night in the jail. All along the while, she keeps her hunt going on for the perfect man. From the land of Kamasutra that she is, can we expect her to give up so soon? No! Her sojourn leads her to a variety of men. Philosophers, lawyers, mathematicians, Mohammed Edward Ranganathan Goldberg (don't be carried away by the name - he is one guy), Greeks, geeks and nerds, Irish, Sociologists, tattooed guys, Tamil scholars, a friend from India, serial killers, singers with bands and a French guy. Which one of all of the above finally manage to thrill her? Which one of them is hers? Which one of them is the perfect man? Does she find out? Does she get lucky? Or is she heartbroken and scarred forever? You'll know. All in good time. When Radha decides to tell you. Her way. Her style. Wickedly funny and fruityly flirtatious is the book Men On My Mind by Radha Thomas!

Obviously, Men On My Mind isn't a moral science handbook, but it keeps you hooked as the author takes you on her roller coaster journey. Her life. A light read, a lovely company especially on journeys. I liked it and I think you'll like it too!

This post is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.

At Last

Tweet

You wake up, go to the bathroom and look at the mirror.

 

 

After a long and a tiring night, Holly wakes up and goes to the bathroom. With her eyes barely open, she fidgeted for a while for the light switch while she looked at the mirror. 

 

The memories of previous day come flooding to her mind. It was a super exhaustive day. So much done. So much to do. So much running around. So many thoughts and emotions on her mind. Nervousness. Elation. Anxiety. Enthrallment. Confusion. Happiness. Torment. Enthusiasm. Longing. Impatience. Fear. Hope. Worry. Hysteria. She had always been a bundle of nerves. But this day was different. It was the day she had been waiting for since time immemorial. It was her day. Her time under the sun. She was her happiest. Ever! It was everything that she had dreamed of. It was perfect. Too good to be true. It was the stuff that dreams were made of. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Everyone told her she looked beautiful. And Holly knew it was true. She was such a beauty after all! She was perfect in every way. The men loved her. She was every man's dream come true. And every woman's nightmare. The women hated her. She was way too perfect for them. She was smart, intelligent, beautiful. She was everything they were not. 

 

Holly felt good about herself. She was happy. She was day dreaming. Right in front of the mirror. Smiling and giggling to herself. She broke into tears. She thanked God for everything. He had given her everything she ever wanted. He had blessed her. He was always there for her. When everything around her seemed to give away, her God strengthened her. Her faith led her like a small lamp in a dark forest. God didn't show her everything at once, but He gave enough light for the next step to be safe. She trusted her God with her life. She relied on Him for all her important decisions in life. And this was the biggest of them all. She broke into a smile. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Holly was laughing, talking, smiling all by herself. She didn't realize how long this monologue was going on. She loved monologues. It gave her time to think. To be thankful. To be grateful. To mourn. To celebrate. It gave her time for everything. That is just when the morning alarm rang in the bedroom and zapped her back to reality. Holly ran to the bedroom and turned off the alarm. She gave a peck to Gerry and glanced at him as he lay comfortably on their bed. All snuggled up. She felt jealous. Keeping aside her jealously she rushed back to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was their first breakfast together after the wedding. And she wanted it to be special. She loved her Gerry. But her Gerry loved her more. Thanking God for her Gerry, she boiled a kettle of water for the coffee. Everything was perfect. The wedding. The first dance. The gown. He. Everything. He was the perfect one for her. He was her everything. Everything. She was happy. Very happy.

 

Holly couldn't thank her God enough. No, never!

This post was a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers 

by BlogAdda and it was featured as the best entry. Here is the link: WOW Winners.

This post is also a dedication to all the girls who grew up on happily ever afters, 

to all those who believe in the magic of love and marriage, like me!

Two Weeks Notice

Tweet

You go home and check your Emails. You read the second mail and freeze.

 

  

After a hard day's work, Zoey opened her lappy to unwind before she could finally try to get some much needed sleep that was eluding her since that fateful day. She thought of login into Facebook to kill time, but the thought of those million questions from a million friends (?) strangers precisely, put her off. What actually happened? Are you okay? Are you alright? How are you coping? These questionnaires from people who cared a damn was the last thing she wanted on a day as tiring as this one. Thinking of which she sighed. Haven't all days been tiring since that fateful day? Everything had changed. Everything! 

 

She tried not to think about it. And opened her mailbox. Hoping some crappy funny forward would make her laugh or at least smile. The first mail was as she expected - a reminder - that the school fees was due. She read it and then marked it as 'unread' quickly before proceeding to the next mail. The second mail. She read the subject line and then fearing the worst she clicked on it and read the rest of the mail. She froze. In the middle of May, the hot summer of Bombay - she froze. That is what fear does to you. And panic. And worry. And anxiety.

 

It was a mail from the bank that Kevin and she had loaned from almost two years ago. The loan term was up long back, and they hadn't paid up yet. How could she have forgotten? Ah! After all that happened to her over the last couple of weeks, she had every right to forget. And to be forgiven, right? Only if the bank would be as kind. As understanding. As forgetful. As forgiving. If only. Only if. Well, this wasn't the time for self pity. It was the time to act. And quick. Or the bank would throw her out of her house. Her home. Her sanctuary. Her nest. Her dwelling place. Her heaven on earth. They'd kick her out, if need be. No pleading would help. No crying. No nothing. Only crisp currency notes. Nothing else. Nothing less. Nothing more. She lived in a cruel and an unkind world, remember?  Forgive us our debts and sins as we forgive our debtors happens only in the Lord's prayer. Not in reality. Not in Zoey's world. A world that forgives and forgets NO debts and NO debtors. The bank had given her two weeks notice. Two weeks? That's it? Sure faith can move mountains and all. But this was different. A home was involved. A loan. A bank. And huge currency notes.

 

She didn't know what to do. What could she do? Could she ask her parents? NO! That was a bad idea. She had troubled them enough already. They didn't need to hear this! It was her problem, right? Not theirs! Only if. If only! If only Kevin was still here with her, he would find a solution. He would find a way. He would calm her down. If nothing, he would make her laugh - yes, he had an uncanny way of cracking her up even in the most tense situations. He was her anchor. He was the only Mary Jane she ever needed! He was her everything. She had the same effect on him too. If only. Only if. But everything had changed. Everything!

 

She needed some sleep. That was what she did whenever she was too worried. Sleep was her drug. It took her mind off the worry. It bought her time. But sleep's been eluding her since that fateful day. She threw a glance at Kathy and Ruth. They were sleeping blissfully like angels serene and calm, blissfully oblivious to the emotions that were draining their poor single mom. Single mom? No - she wasn't single. She said to herself. Kevin is here. Kev is dead, Zoe! No - he isn't! He is just sleeping! Oh yeah? Who was in the casket then? Voices. She was now hearing voices. Then she saw the images. Images of Kevin being carried to the ICU on a stretcher. The doctors calming her down and asking her not to worry. Not to worry? That's my husband in there, alright? Images of the doctors pronouncing him - . She stopped! First the voices and now the images. Was she going mad? Was she mad already? Who knows? She didn't want to go any further. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to accept the reality. She didn't want to move on. She didn't want to live. No, not like this. Everything was happening too quickly for her. Nothing made sense. Nothing! She was fed up of her life. Of herself. Of the kids. Of Kevin. She was fed up of everything!

 

She wanted to die!

 

She looked at her kids. Their kids. The serene faces calmed her for a moment. She saw Kevin in the innocent faces. Thousands of thoughts were running through her head. Just then an idea hit her. She scampered to the kitchen to find something strong and sharp. Yes, a knife. A sharp knife. A sharp knife would do the trick! And quick! That was what she was looking for, precisely. And bingo! She found one in the kitchen sink. She washed it clean, carefully. She looked at her own reflection on the sharp, sparkling knife. She wished for her Kev. She wished that he was there. She wished that he wouldn't have left her alone back here. She knew what she had to do now. The job was very easy. Nothing too tough for a lady. Had Kevin been here, she may never would have had thought of doing this. He would have given her a more practical idea. He would have found another way out of this. Like he always did. Not something as stupid and dumb and silly as this! She knew she was doing something stupid, but she didn't know what else to do. This seemed like her only way out. She had to give this a shot. She had to try it. She had to do it. And she had to do it NOW! No other way. She knew she was being very foolish. But she had no other option! There was an eerie silence. A silence that scared her. The thoughts and the voices kept haunting her. Ignoring them, she ran back to the room where the kids were sleeping. Ah! They were still sleeping! She rushed to the cupboard and opened the door without making a sound. She didn't want to wake them up. Kathy could get cranky. And that was the LAST thing she wanted tonight!

 

She emptied the cupboard almost immediately. And then she found what she was looking for. The tin money box. It was a gift from Kevin's mom on their wedding. She advised them to start saving from the beginning of their marriage. And then, she handed them this tin money box to inspire them. She laughed. You are so dumb. You think this stupid tin will have enough money to pay back the loan? You're nuts Zoe! Voices. She heard voices again. She ignored. She quickly took out the knife and pierced the box. All the loose change and some currency notes fell down. She was really nuts to think that some loose cash would settle the loan! She wanted to scream and cry. But she couldn't. She had to show the world that she was strong. She had to live it up for Kathy and Ruth. But she had given up. Almost.

 

Almost!

 

She gave a cold look at the sharp knife she still had in her shaky hand. And then. And then something extraordinary happened. A miracle. Yes, you can call it a miracle. A mutual fund certificate and a note stapled to it dropped from the box. How could she not have seen it? She had emptied the tin box, hadn't she? She wiped her tears and sat down to read the note. She froze again, her body. But her soul was warming up. It was a short note from Kevin. He told her about a mutual fund that he had invested in long back. Mutual funds? Why didn't you ever tell me about it Kev? Why? Kevin knew that Zoey would hound him for not telling her! So he explained to her in the note - Zoe, I didn't tell you about the mutual fund earlier because I was actually saving up for our second honeymoon on our tenth anniversary next year. I knew you always wanted to go to Rome. I was saving up for that. I wanted to surprise you sweetheart! But hey! If ever you come across this note and I am not around and if you need money desperately, please feel free to redeem this certificate. I have made you a nominee and all the instructions as to how to redeem it are at the back of the certificate. And cheer up! If not the honeymoon, I am sure this hard earned money can be used for something better. Maybe you can redeem it to pay off the loan. Or maybe for Kathy's and Ruth's education. Something! Anyway, I am sure that my pretty wife is pretty smart and would use this money wisely. And remember - Faith, Love and Hope, like I always told you! Love you loads Zoe. Your's, Kev. 

 

Yes - Faith, Love and Hope. Faith, Love and Hope will get you through anything and everything. Calm down! Cheer up! It isn't THAT bad, trust me! If nothing else, trust God! He's got it all figured out. Even though we haven't! Yet! Her Kev always said that. Today she had proof! Proof that faith, love and hope are still alive. Proof that faith, love and hope is all you need. Proof that miracles do happen. It happened to her.

 

She cried and cried. Loudly. She didn't care if the kids or the neighbors woke up. She cried. Nothing could stop her. Kev, why you love me so much? Why? She didn't have any words. Just incoherent sobs. Kathy and Ruth woke up. They saw their mom crying. They didn't ask why. They knew what daddy meant to mommy. They just hugged her and the three of them cried thinking about their daddy, their best friend, their Kev. It went on for a while and then when they fell asleep, they didn't realize.

 

The morning sun's glaring rays filling up the room woke up Zoey. It was like a signal - to start her life anew. She woke up the kids fed them breakfast and told them, 'Mama needs to go to the bank. Ruth, take care of Kathy. I will be back in an hour.' Saying so she put on her favorite summer dress and rushed to the bank. All ready to face the life alone. No, not alone. She had Ruth, Kathy and Kev - yes, Kevin was there. Somewhere! He hadn't gone! No, not yet! She knew him in her heart. And felt him in her soul. With the wind in her hair and the world at her feet and the bounce in her steps, she went to the bank. To reclaim their house. Their home. Their sanctuary. Their nest. Their dwelling place. Their heaven on earth. That was rightfully theirs! She threw a glance upwards and thanked her God and she thanked her Kevin. She was happy. She was alive. She was living. 

 

Faith, Love and Hope - do quite some work, good work, don't they? 

 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This post is also a dedication to faith, love and hope. These three we can never 
live without! But the greatest of these is love (1 Cor 13:13)

Punctured Belly

Tweet

A fat lady entered the bus,
And made a big fuss.
About how everyone was in a rush.

She had this huge belly,
As big as an LCD telly.
Which she tugged along like a jelly.

As the bus pulled up at a stop,
The lady huffed and puffed and jumped and raved.
And stomped her mighty feet onto the floor.

A tiny little girl entered soon,
With a pointed parapluie blue.
And stood near that lady close.

As the bus tramped through the narrow streets,
The fat lady lost her breeze.
And dashed against the little girl in her heels.

The little girl was mighty pissed off,
And told her, 'Hey lady! You better get off me!'
'Eh? Why? What you gonna do? You little monkey?', said she.

'You called me a monkey, did you?'
Saying this she poked the lady with her parapluie blue.
The fat lady fell flat on the floor with a snarl.

She got up to find her telly tummy gone.
That's when she realised,
The parapluie blue had punctured her belly through.

Embarrassed she got off the bus.
Lighter without her huge belly,
Which she tugged around like a jelly!

This poem is just a weird and a silly one. As weird and silly as the author herself! Nevertheless, I hope you like it. Also, a message to the dames grandes, please don't be messing with the dames petites! Who knows, they could just end up puncturing your belly! :P

P.S. This is supposed to be a funny poem. Take it that way! And yes - please don't bully anyone. Irrespective of if they are fat or thin, tall or short, fair or dark. Or whatever! Remember, cowards bully.

P.P.S. The best weight loss program, aint it?

What! Am I?

Tweet

As she walked down the street,
She heard people scream.
As she got closer,
She heard them call her names.

She dint know it was a game,
They were looking to defame.
They called her ugly, fat and dumb,
She asked herself, 'What! Am I?'

She believed their every line,
She trusted their empty lies.
She lost herself in the crowd,
She lost the hope that she had found.

As she was walking on way,
She heard those dogs bay.
She heard their muffled voices,
At first she thought it was just some weird noises.

As she walked ahead,
She heard them call her stupid and slow.
And other nasty names in a flow.
And she asked herself again, 'What! Am I?'

She then wondered, 'Am I really ugly, fat and dumb?,
Am I really stupid and slow?'
That's when she heard a voice from inside,
And that voice calmed her from within.

That voice told her the truth,
The truth she had forgotten.
That voice showed her the way,
The way she thought she had lost.

That voice gave her hope,
The hope that she thought had dimmed.
That voice gave her life,
The life that she thought had died.

That voice told her that she was precious and one of a kind.
That she was not what others said she was.
That she was the apple of someone's eye.
That she was perfect just the way she was.

That she was beautiful.
That she was pretty.
That she was funny.
That she was cute.

That she was smart.
That she was God's lovely art.
That she was sweet.
That she was neat.

That she was special.
That she was perfect.
That she was unique.
That she was really the best.

That she made a difference.
That she was cared for.
That she was wanted.
That she made the world a better place.

That she was a gem.
That she was royal.
That she was needed.
That she was one of a kind.
 
She asked herself again, 'What! Am I?'
The voice replied back, 'Yes, you are!'
She smiled and said, 'Amen!
Thanks! Thanks for letting me know!'

Many a times we have people in our life who put us down, call us names and hurt us. And sometimes, it is a friend. It hurts us. But remember that we are not what they call us. We are much better, much much better than they could ever attempt to be! I have had enough of so called 'friends' in my life. And I am grateful to them for calling me names and for telling me that I am good for nothing. For it is their harsh words that got me closer to God and showed me what I really am. And what they really are. Don't believe the lies the world tells you. You are really the best. You are one of a kind. There cannot be another YOU, EVER!

Every Experience Counts

Tweet

Happy New Year Friends! :)

New year calls for new beginnings, right? I believe the same. And so I present before you the first ever guest post on my blog. The guest writer is one of my bestest friends. She is my support system. I've drawn a lot of love and strength from her. I love her to bits. She and I have a very special and a weird relationship. She's special and I am weird! :) 

So ladies and gentlemen! Fasten your seat belts and prepare yourself to unravel the mysteries of this lady - Nieve Chica aka Snow Girl! :)

A li’l more laughs
A li’l less sighs

Let’s bloom a little
Let’s fade into the back at times

Stand up a little more
Walk that extra mile

Share and care
Bear it all and dare to live

Dream and do
Be and believe

An open heart
A more open mind

Faith in Him
And He will do the rest

Experie­nce. Every single one counts.
 
The author, apart from being one of the precious souls in my innermost circle, is a budding writer. You can read her work here: https://nievechica.jux.com/ She is super awesome and is very creative when it comes to writing and is an even better photographer. 

P.S: She has a thing for alliterations!