Mission Accomplished

Mission Accomplished:

Yeah, back. Had an awesome Diwali i.e. Mission almost Impossible a success. Was finished in record time too, 1 hour 45 minutes to be approximately precise (I don’t really care whether it is a valid oxymoron, this is my blog).

Starting from the beginning, I woke up, at ten ;). After the usual censure, I began writing and chatting. Then, took a bath, helped a bit in decoration, went to city center (yet again), returned and… and….. began getting ready for the puja.

“Mummmmmyyyyyyyyy!!! Are you coming or not?? You do want your sari to stay the same I hope!” yippee!! Mum walks in, all confident, that she will make me wear a sari. Her confidence is shattered in less than 3 minutes. I didn’t know how to tuck in my sari, and when she tried I couldn’t stop giggling. Hey, it is tough you know, and, it tickles a lot. So the tucking was done, much to my mom’s frustration, my brothers giggles and a combination of both for me!!! Pleats. They look oh so pretty. Satan’s creation they are. Stupid pleats, they take more than a human effort to be done, and make you look fatter if not done perfectly. After one such imperfect attempt, I was so disgusted that I couldn’t help comment that I looked 5 months pregnant. Even mom agreed, and laughed, although she is usually very prudish when I speak this way. (“Azel, badi ho rahi ho, theek se baat kiya karo.” Ya right, “prim and proper” and me!! ) Anyways, after a few (few is relative!! Always relative!!)such luckless labors we settled for the ones which were so untidy that they made me slimmer. :) then the palla was done, that didn’t take much time. I practice it often with a dupatta, when I am in my self-absorbed moods and pose in front of my mirror. I actually wore it in a pseudo-bengali style. Nobody knew how it’s authentically done. So I stuck to my innovation. The look was completed with dramatic eyes. I read this phrase in cosmopolitan, looks nice and fashionable, so I used it. Black eyeliner, lots of kajal, nude lipstick completed the attire. Then mom’s traditional pearl set. Yeah, I had to wear jewelery, “Diwali hai beta, aaj toh pehen lo kam se kam.”

After all the sweat , my brother thinks that I am looking like a bengali banshee. Well, from my past experiences it is a sin for brothers to compliment you. So I took it even without a pinch of salt. I made a deal with him, you do my photo shoot, I do yours. (Although it sounded something like the famous Godfather dialogue, “You take care of me, I take care of you. You don’t take care of me. I take care of you.”) Aah, finally, the much awaited photo session begins. I posed, and posed and posed. In front of the maroon satin curtain, a back pose showing of my back :P, a pose where my hair framed my face like a halo… he he, I always wanted to describe myself that way…, a few dance poses, a pose with my head covered and well, a lot more.

Then we had our puja, went to a relatives place, burst crackers, ate our dinner and slept.

My Diwali was successful. At the cost of being repetitive I looked good. Mission almost Impossible was accomplished and in style. If I weren’t straight, I would have really turned me on yesterday. Anyways, now I am just waiting for my photos to be uploaded. Then I’ll spend some quality time gaping at me, and thank God for bestowing so much beauty on this Earth.

Acknowledgements:

# Thank you Mummy for bearing with me, trusting me with your sari and jewelery, for living with me 24x7, for loving me sooooooo much. Arre why am I getting so senti!!

# Thank you Shanky for being my permanent photographer.

# Thank you chachi for the beautiful rangoli you made, beside which I posed. :D

# Thank you Pali, for looking so cute.

# Thank you everyone else, because I don’t want to be rude.

Happy Diwali to all of you!!

Diwali and Me, 2008

Diwali and Me, 2008

Happy Diwali to all of you!! I’ll be wearing a sari today and that is the highlight this year for me. Last year, Diwali was important because I had gotten a new haircut and a kurta from Biba, and the year before the highlight was the fact that I was making a rangoli. Bursting crackers has long since lost topmost position in my celebrations, although I’d like to clarify that I didn’t go much beyond phuljhadi, chakri, anaar, saanp, rang mashal and taar. Phew, I am shocked I know so many names…. :) Also, it’s been years since I wrote a nibandh/essay on Diwali. It used to be one of those nice, baby essays where I’d use long unpronounceable Hindi words and get the highest in class :)

Anyways, nowadays, Diwali means a very happy and busy day at home. I quite enjoy decorating our home, and later, myself. The day involves receiving messages/calls from kin and kind; I usually send them a day in advance to avoid the Diwali jammed networks! Also, messages aren’t free on holidays (Hey! At least I am honest :P).

So, coming back to where I started, I’ll be wearing a sari today. A traditional Bengali sari in silk, called Laar Paar Sada Sari, like the one in the song Dola Re. I had decided this almost a year ago, come on, I don’t get to wear a sari everyday :). Although my mom is not too excited about it, the reason being that dressing me up is quite an ordeal. I always feel, perfection cannot be improved :P. Actually, coming back to earth, wearing a sari is tough. And making me wear one, will be Mission almost Impossible. Almost because, I will not give up. A beautiful sari, a long photo session and lots of smugness await me :D.

Actually, I am really excited now, dressing up is quite an intoxicating affair, so I’ll update you later with the events of today and the success of Mission almost Impossible. Also, it’s 10:53 am and I haven’t taken a bath yet, much to my mom’s disapproval. So I’ll come back later. Hope you all have a very happy and safe Diwali or, lets say a Huha Diwali, I learnt this just now. :)

p.s.:-

1. Stay under the prescribed decibel level.

2. Try bursting only crackers. Atom bombs, nuclear bombs and the works are not for Diwali. They are not for any occasion actually. :P

3. Call me, do not wait for me to call you. ( meant for only those people with whom I speak on the phone)

4. If by any chance you happen to see me in my sari, do not hesitate to compliment me. I understand, such beauty is truly rare, and deserves its credit.

5. Have fun, take care. Have an awesome Diwali and a very prosperous new year.

Love Thyself, before thy neighbour

Here I am! Now what are your other two wishes?

This is usually what I think when I meet you. But don't worry, its not because I know you are lusting after me, it is because I have become increasingly narcissistic. And it is not a disorder. I mean look at it objectively; I’d love to be my friend if I were not me. I’d love to talk to me if I were somebody else. So, just because I am me, why should I resort to hypocrisy? I personally feel, everyone ought to be in love with oneself. I mean, seriously, if you don’t like yourself, who would?

It is not that I consider myself superior or inferior to anyone, it’s just that I like me. I like me on the whole, and this is the way I feel about most things in life. We should remember that everything is relative. What we should do is that instead of having a dynamic frame of reference in the form of other people, our frame of reference should be our own standards. The constancy of it, itself changing with change in ourselves.

I feel so strongly about it because I am constantly criticized or appraised for my opinions, but, rarely are they shared. And this made me think about the fact that, we shouldn’t really bother with other peoples convictions, and have the guts to make our own.

Narcissism is usually thought of as something sinful. its always,love others, live for others, why? why do we have to omit ourselves from our services. "I", why is the word so hated? Would the existence of anything matter if we were to lose ourselves?

Without delving further into this topic, because self-love cannot be preached, i'd like to come back to where i began. I love myself, just like you.


p.s.:- The text intends no offence to you, in case you are offended, better introspect. Have a nice life.

The Male Shopper

The Male Shopper

A truly rare species, yet most dangerous. Specializing in the art of slow, third degree torture, he might bore you to death, no matter how wonderful the mall. He tries clothes that you wouldn’t ever look at, and buys clothes which are bad and expensive. All this is bearable. The trick is to do all this in the long span of a week, and each outing lasting at least 2 hours. Have you seen the insides of a male clothing store? All the clothes look old and boring and they scream “lack of style” yet.. no matter how expensive they are… people buy them. Of course there is good stuff too, but our male shopper is allergic to good paisa vasool clothes. He likes looking weird. The salesmen are like the Spider, come to my home screaming types. You try on a rag and they make you Mr. Universe, do you realize, that Mr. Universe is never an Indian. Yet the male shopper buys it. But, the process takes 2x7 hours, and long arguments with mummy. I don`t understand why the people who augur the growth of this species, i.e, male clothing salesmen, don’t bother having some good clothes in their stock. Why can’t the store have female clothing as well so that we don’t suffer. Why do they have so many similar looking shirts. Men are cruel, they like and propagate bad clothing. Women are patient, mummy still lets Shanky shop. But I will take a stand, I will not accompany this dangerous species to any of his further torture sprees and I will buy a new dress. Because I buy good clothes.

For further references:
Shanky
Mickey

Dedicated to,
Shanky

Note: Mickey is yet to make me suffer.