Knight Life!

My knight in shining armour..(only he would prefer to don a chaddi and vest given the choice) has been working on saving the world day in and day out (or saving his ass at work , as he insists on putting it). So he has been getting up early and dashing to work , not been following our customary ‘Hi babes, I’m alive. And You?’ call routine during the day, and has been getting back home at ungodly hours just as the poor, worried wife has been about to send a search party to look for him. He’s working on a hush-hush project regarding You-Know-Who.

Yes. The dearest darling husband is doing some work for the latest Harry Potter movie about to hit the screens . (psst psst .. Note the nice adjectives being used to describe the spouse. All well thought of and designed to win a first day ticket to the movie. Considering the spouse dislikes the Potter movies and hasn’t watched any after the first was screened in 2001 (why ofcourse I’m a fan!), every bit of pleading will be required to get the damn ticket. )

(psst psst .also note the singular tense in the word ‘ticket’.Even if I have to watch the movie on my own, I will. I surely will)

So there. The reason for not blogging in the last few days is because I’ve been running around trying to please the husband into giving me one piddly ticket to THE movie. I'm even trying to cook!

What about you? Like it? Diss it? n Why?

Copyright 2008 by Meira

Honey, We're Outa Gas!

Our cooking gas got over a couple of days back. Now if you’re a young couple living in a useless city where one piddly gas connection requires a mini-marathon equivalent exercise of:

running to agency -- Running to District Court for Affidavit --Running to Photo Studio for passport size photos -- running to agency -- Running to Photocopy shop to get THEIR documents photocopied -- Running back to agency -- One month for the cylinder to arrive, you realize that life isn’t easy.

So, its been over three days, and we’re still waiting for the agency to send a substitute cylinder.

Not to bad , considering the maid gets her evenings off and I get total time out from the kitchen. But all the eating out, or perhaps the glee of eating out has resulted in a bout of upset stomach in the household.

I haven’t told my mom yet.

Do you want to listen to a half-hour lecture on why not to eat out? Me neither!

I haven’t told my sister too.

Do you want mom to find out from the wise sister that you’ve been eating out a lot? Me neither.

I haven’t even told my dad.

Do you want an even bigger lecture on why not to eat out and why to cook yourself? Me neither.

I think I’l tell my nephew. He’s at the age where anything I tell him makes him admire me more. Unlike parents.

And why is it that you crave for things when you’re so not allowed to have them?

*Goes away trying hard not to think of Chocolate sundaes and kulfi faloodas and cheese pizzas and kebabs and malai koftas.*

Egg-sacerbating Times!

Monday evening, TS and I realized that the eggs were over.

Now eggs are an important part of our diet. So I trotted to the grocer's downstairs while the husband waited for the AC repariman (that...makes a rather abusive post, someday)

"Do we need anything apart from eggs? And Bread."

"Hmm, get some butter. "

"Ok. Ciao"

Enter grocer-store.

Bread: Check

Butter: Check

"Hey…we’re out of cooking oil too. The maid uses oil like it’s an energy drink! Good I remembered. "

Oil : Check.

I saunter back home and then it strikes,

Shit, I forgot the eggs.

"No problem, lets go to Supermart. We can have some egg rolls at Nizam’s and buy some from Needs."

"Okie. I’l carry the Sodexhos."

Drive, Curse at Cabbies, curse at lack of parking, squeeze car into tiny space between two cars.

Egg rolls: Yum.Check

"Oh, I needed Contact Lens Solution. Good I remembered"

Lens Solution: Check.

Enter Needs.

"Pick up a basket, no."

"But why? We’re here to buy only eggs."

"We might like something "

"Hmm. "

Maggi : Check

HappyDent : Check

Frozen Salami: Check

Rose Wine: Check

Garnier Under Eye Gel: Check

Khadi Strawberry soap: Check

Pretty-shaped biscuits: Check

Nutritious namkeen (!): Check

Mach 3 razor: Check

Bill for1500/- : Check

Trudge to the car, heave the bags home where two adults smack their forehead in unison.

Shit, we forgot the eggs!

Copyright 2008 by Meira

Every Morning

Every morning in Africa a gazelle wakes up and knows that it will have to outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed.

And, every morning in Africa a lion wakes up and knows that it will have to outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death.

Author Unknown

And every morning in Gurgaon an employee wakes up and knows that he will have to outrun his colleagues to work or he won’t get a place to park his vehicle!

Most people at my workplace travel 30-40 kms to reach office, commuting more than 5 hours everyday. I pity them. When people ask me why..I tell them that on good days I take 7 minutes to reach office and 15 on bad. That’s 2 songs on a good day and 4 songs and some ads on a bad .

Cheeky , eh?

And then on rare occasions, like today, when the signals go kaput or the roads are being repaired, it takes me 25 minutes. That’s 6 songs on Matchless Music Hour.

And that’s when I start praying. Oh Whoever-is-responsible-for-the-sun-the-moon-and-traffic-jams, please save a parking slot for me today.
Please.

Till date my prayers have been answered. This means that despite the 6 songs, I have been outrunning the slowest colleague to work.

So, in Gurgaon, it doesn't matter if you live near or far from office. When that sun comes up, you had better be driving.

Except my husband, ofcourse. He has a different strategy:
Make friends with everyone in the locality who goes towards his office. Then get up late, and start calling people to find out who can give him a lift.

In Gurgaon, if you are like TS, you don't get bothered by the sun :D

Copyright 2008 by Meira

Did You Know

Twenty-six is:

• The number of letters in the English alphabet, if capital letters are not distinguished from lowercase letters.
• The number of miles in a marathon rounded down (26 miles and 385 yards).
• Often the number of episodes in a television program each year; this allows one new show per week for half the year, and one rerun per week for the rest of the year.
• The age at which males can no longer be drafted in the United States
• The atomic number of iron
• The number of spacetime dimensions in bosonic string theory.
  

(Source: Wikipedia.org)

And 26 is also how old I turn today.
What a coincidence.

Yes, the party began last night. The Coronas and Cake will be low in stock in Gurgaon shops today, but available in plenty at my place. Do join in.
Hic Hic Hurrah.

photo from www.indiachocolatedelivery.com


Copyright 2008 by Meira

I Have Been Dishonored

"

I've never been so mortified .

Since the day of the marriage. I have been stared at, lewdly and jealously. Despite showing every possible signs of being wedded, there is no end to the lustful stares that I have been getting for the last two months or so. All my attempts at covering up with dupattas or stoles have been in vain. I have caught people bending and craning their necks to get better views. Men, staring and guiltily looking away when they feel livid, fiery eyes glaring at them. Even females, glowering with hatred and yet a longing for what holds the attention of so many.

As if I'm an object that can be lusted after.
As if just because I'm delicate I can be victimized.
As if I have no feelings.

I will not take this horrid horrid treatment anymore. I will..I will..oh I simply don't know what to do. Please help me.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to mention that this is not Meira posting. This is a guest post by me, Meira's Wedding Chain. My name is Mangalsutra.



Sob! You stared too .
Sigh!
"

PS: Sorry for the not-so-good picture. Had to take it with the phone. The camera needs to be repaired. Which reminds me...TS...

Copyright 2008 by Meira

Those Pesky Days

When I was in Kindergarten, a piddly tyke of 2-3, I would look at my sister and her friends in high school with envy. High School seemed like heaven, and I would worship the sister and co. with an ardor only a hankering child can muster.

Once I had cruised through junior and middle school to finally reach high school, I came to the realization that though I had reached the age where other piddly kids looked up to me, I had not yet reached my heaven. I had chosen another idol to worship.

The college teen.
This time college seemed like paradise. And I hoped and prayed to be transported into their world. No uniforms, no attendance, no notebooks being checked daily, no carrying mom's idlis for lunch everyday. Sigh. College was so cool.

Yet again, by the time I had chugged through school to enter graduation, the paradise had moved. College was fun, yes. But just look at all those people who are working. No cooking up excuses to pester dad for yet another increase in the monthly allowances, no 2nd class train journeys on 'student budgets'.
Yes. that was IT. To earn was the best gift to mankind, finalized the mind during yet another drowsy lecture.

And now, as the 'earning stage' has also been sampled, the fickle mind longs for the Kindergarten days . The days of detached happiness, when the only stress was to learn the 26 alphabets, while trying to learn what 26 meant .

Tagged by PS to write about the 'good old days'. She says they're good only because they're over...even though they bring back happy memories. She's smart. Me? My fickle mind can't even decide which of the old days were really good.

Sigh!
Does a fickle mind bug you too? Tell me , G, Iya , Suresh, Revs and others too.


Copyright 2008 by Meira