Au revoir in French, Auf Wiedersehen in German, Joi wooi in Cantonese, Addio in Italian.
If there is one word I hate to use, it is "Goodbye". To me it symbolises the end of an era, the time that you have actually spent with someone, an end to the memories that symbolise the time that you shared with a person.
They say "Sorry" is the hardest thing to say, but I am of the opinion that "Goodbye" is the hardest word to say. It attaches a lot of emotions to it. If you have ever see teary-eyed people at the airports, railway stations and highways, you will understand the gravity of the word "Goodbye".
Even though you wish love, luck and best wishes to your loved ones and wish they succeed at every step in life, a part of you still wants this moment to freeze and maybe even go back.
Goodbye to me means a whole bundle of emotions in the heart and tears in my eyes and a mental movie of old times flashing before my eyes, an unknown fear of a void that will be created which may or may not be filled in someone's absence and even if it does, it will take a very long time. A feeling of insecurity and lonliness, a feeling of leaving someone you depend on for whatever reason.
The only time I made a complete fool of myself at a public place was when my friend was leaving for her hometown after finishing college, it was just too painful for me to see her leave. For the first time and perhaps the last time..... I cried in public.
Goodbye to me seems like a chapter of life has come to an end, and in some cases the begining of a new one because when you say goodbye to someone, its for the new begining of a new phase, a new career or a new life for either you or them. And like most things in life, its a never ending story.
People come and people go, you want some people to stay in your life and you hope for some others to walk out, but you or me do not control the reins of time, rather its the time that determines when, how and to whom you say "goodbye".
Monday, June 11, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Baby's day out.
One of the most exciting thing that keeps me glued to my job is that there is always something new happening in the office. New Year raffles, Christmas parties, Diwali Pooja in the Indian style, Hamukkah, the Chinese New Year, charity programs, the French Bastille day and each month has its own exclusive agenda to look forward to.
Another initiative taken by the top bosses was the "Bring your children to work" day since most collegues have children and there schools had closed for summer break. The idea was to inculcate a sense of respect and belongingness among the children and also to let the parents spend some more "quality time" with the parents. Good intention but bad out come.
Here is how it all started......... my workplace has a majority of women staff (much to the envy of men) and mostly married working mothers with children aging from 3 month old babies to 17 year old teenagers. The youngest ones did not stop howling in an attempt to adjust with the new envoironment that they were thrown into, the kindergarten students were busy trying to prove the fact that their mothers were the most loving mothers or that their dads were stronger than Spiderman. The 10 year olds were looked as they had just landed from the outer planet and had endless questions begining and ending with "what, when, why and how".
And then there were the most curious of them all - the 13-15 year olds who could neither be classified as kids because they were'nt and neither were they the big enough to talk global warming and new playstation about. This lot somehow came well prepared with a whole bag ful of Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys and Enid Blytons, since there was no escape.
Finally there were three 17 year olds who had that confident look of being "almost there", the most annoyed of the lot. They spoke of new things and new issues and in each sentence tried to convince me that they knew a lot more on every topic including a software that I had been using since long. They seemed to be in a hurry to grow up and were facsinated by every object around that had anything to do remotely related to physics and it made some kind of a noise, which includes the paper shredder.
Eight and a half hours later with a day full of babies screaming, children pulling my stole to grab my attnetion and losing all my stationary to the little "angels", when every parent leaves with the apple of their eyes, some single and young people liek me are left behind and forced to volunteer to clean up, clean up all the baby food that the little monsters threw up when the mothers were forcing it into their mouths somewhere in the middle of trying to finish an assessment report, clean up the crayon and colour stains that the budding painters and artists left behind on the carpets and walls. Arrange all the books and maps on the shelves, throw away all the paper craft works which the 10-13 year old army had left behind in their quest to know and learn more and try to arrange all the furniture which was ransacked by the still older generation. The elder ones in order to prove their extensive and newly acquired knowledge about MS and the world on their fingertips with the internet had left 2 systems with viruses downloaded straight from the internet and 3 broken mouses, I was forced to change my perception about "quality time".
Another initiative taken by the top bosses was the "Bring your children to work" day since most collegues have children and there schools had closed for summer break. The idea was to inculcate a sense of respect and belongingness among the children and also to let the parents spend some more "quality time" with the parents. Good intention but bad out come.
Here is how it all started......... my workplace has a majority of women staff (much to the envy of men) and mostly married working mothers with children aging from 3 month old babies to 17 year old teenagers. The youngest ones did not stop howling in an attempt to adjust with the new envoironment that they were thrown into, the kindergarten students were busy trying to prove the fact that their mothers were the most loving mothers or that their dads were stronger than Spiderman. The 10 year olds were looked as they had just landed from the outer planet and had endless questions begining and ending with "what, when, why and how".
And then there were the most curious of them all - the 13-15 year olds who could neither be classified as kids because they were'nt and neither were they the big enough to talk global warming and new playstation about. This lot somehow came well prepared with a whole bag ful of Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys and Enid Blytons, since there was no escape.
Finally there were three 17 year olds who had that confident look of being "almost there", the most annoyed of the lot. They spoke of new things and new issues and in each sentence tried to convince me that they knew a lot more on every topic including a software that I had been using since long. They seemed to be in a hurry to grow up and were facsinated by every object around that had anything to do remotely related to physics and it made some kind of a noise, which includes the paper shredder.
Eight and a half hours later with a day full of babies screaming, children pulling my stole to grab my attnetion and losing all my stationary to the little "angels", when every parent leaves with the apple of their eyes, some single and young people liek me are left behind and forced to volunteer to clean up, clean up all the baby food that the little monsters threw up when the mothers were forcing it into their mouths somewhere in the middle of trying to finish an assessment report, clean up the crayon and colour stains that the budding painters and artists left behind on the carpets and walls. Arrange all the books and maps on the shelves, throw away all the paper craft works which the 10-13 year old army had left behind in their quest to know and learn more and try to arrange all the furniture which was ransacked by the still older generation. The elder ones in order to prove their extensive and newly acquired knowledge about MS and the world on their fingertips with the internet had left 2 systems with viruses downloaded straight from the internet and 3 broken mouses, I was forced to change my perception about "quality time".
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
The most happening place
Whats your ideal idea for a perfect weekend? Are you a regular visitor to the dance clubs and discoes in your city?????? May be you go there to take your girlfriend out in style, maybe thats just your idea for having fun or do you like to enjoy the look on the faces of otherwise decent and cultured faces of the society going nuts on the dance floor after a couple of drinks and some rocking music or are you just a big fan of dancing and the groovy beats.
Whatever the reason be, whatever your idea be to spend your night out in a crowded, dark and smogy atmosphere, most people certainly miss out on the real action in these so called happening places. Any guesses where the most "happening" corner of these colourful nights is....... the washrooms. Trust me when I say that.
Like most young people my age who look for fun things to do after work hours and to spend time with friends, I went to this place called "Bottles & Chimmney" in the sub-urban area of Hyderabad. The ambience was good, drinks were free for women ( and we made the most of it), the crowd was grooving and the music was just right, the DJ was awesome and the bouncers alert (they looked like grumpy men who were denied their share of booze for the day).
Anyway, so after a couple of drinks we set out the dance floor to remind ourselves of the college acts that we learnt and did so well, and the drinks were going along too.
Suddenly my friend decided that she is not in a position to handle her drinks and rushed to the washroom. For the sake of courtesy, I decided to accompany my friend (who was now rather drunk and could not even walk properly).
While she was busy throwing up in the washroom and I'm was cursing the moment when I decided to miss out on all the fun and accompany her. One rather skimplily clad girl walks in, bangs her head against the mirror and starts to cry. The hidden angel inside me wakes up and I decided to comfort her. When I asked her the reason for her sudden outburst, she said her boyfriend (now ex I'm sure) was eyeing other girls and she was upset about it.
I simply gave a piece of advise that he is so not worth it and then she walked out. The last I saw of her was she sitting right next to the bar .
I had barely taken a sigh of relief when another heavily drunk woman walks in and starts howling, her reason was that her ex-boyfriend (who she had walked out on) was out there dancing with another girl. (WOW!!! so much to my amazement).
I had not even finished up with her when a couple of girls walk in and start to strip...... excuse me.... was my first reaction. Oh, one of them said, these girls had bunked school and were now changing back to their school uniforms to be able to go back home.
Even though I took my own moment to digest what was going on around me, I decided that I've had enough of a pleasent evening at this "Happening" place and it was time for me to drive back home my friend who was really out of her wits by now and others who were tired after exhibiting their dancing skills.
But yeah the moral of the story is that if you are the kind of a person who wants to know more about other people, you know where to head for.
Whatever the reason be, whatever your idea be to spend your night out in a crowded, dark and smogy atmosphere, most people certainly miss out on the real action in these so called happening places. Any guesses where the most "happening" corner of these colourful nights is....... the washrooms. Trust me when I say that.
Like most young people my age who look for fun things to do after work hours and to spend time with friends, I went to this place called "Bottles & Chimmney" in the sub-urban area of Hyderabad. The ambience was good, drinks were free for women ( and we made the most of it), the crowd was grooving and the music was just right, the DJ was awesome and the bouncers alert (they looked like grumpy men who were denied their share of booze for the day).
Anyway, so after a couple of drinks we set out the dance floor to remind ourselves of the college acts that we learnt and did so well, and the drinks were going along too.
Suddenly my friend decided that she is not in a position to handle her drinks and rushed to the washroom. For the sake of courtesy, I decided to accompany my friend (who was now rather drunk and could not even walk properly).
While she was busy throwing up in the washroom and I'm was cursing the moment when I decided to miss out on all the fun and accompany her. One rather skimplily clad girl walks in, bangs her head against the mirror and starts to cry. The hidden angel inside me wakes up and I decided to comfort her. When I asked her the reason for her sudden outburst, she said her boyfriend (now ex I'm sure) was eyeing other girls and she was upset about it.
I simply gave a piece of advise that he is so not worth it and then she walked out. The last I saw of her was she sitting right next to the bar .
I had barely taken a sigh of relief when another heavily drunk woman walks in and starts howling, her reason was that her ex-boyfriend (who she had walked out on) was out there dancing with another girl. (WOW!!! so much to my amazement).
I had not even finished up with her when a couple of girls walk in and start to strip...... excuse me.... was my first reaction. Oh, one of them said, these girls had bunked school and were now changing back to their school uniforms to be able to go back home.
Even though I took my own moment to digest what was going on around me, I decided that I've had enough of a pleasent evening at this "Happening" place and it was time for me to drive back home my friend who was really out of her wits by now and others who were tired after exhibiting their dancing skills.
But yeah the moral of the story is that if you are the kind of a person who wants to know more about other people, you know where to head for.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Crazy is the word.
What is that one thing that Jayalalita, Paris Hilton, Sarah Jessica Parker,Celina Jaitely, Dia Mirza, Aishwarya Rai and my next door neighbour have in common........... they are all crazy about one thing........ SHOES.
What is it about the strange passion that makes each one of them (and a hundred million other women) go to a shoe store and spend the last penny in their wallets for a new pair of shoes.
Stilletoes, boots, slip-ons, keds, slippers, flip-flops, sandles, cow-boy cuts and a few hundred other designs and colours ranging from the basic black to unimaginable purples, blues, reds and even bright yellows, women want it all. This one for work, the other one for a camping trip, this one for a party at the boss's, that one for a girls day out, the reasons for buying shoes are countless and as ridiculous as " oh I just saw them, liked them and bought them."
The other day I heard a woman sitting with her girl-friends in an upmarket restaurant planning her 25th birthday party and asking her friends to buy her a pair of high heels, the new Vercace designs and so on and so forth for each one of them, since her husband was now sick of her buying them on her own. I found this too much to digest for my sensibilites.
Strangely enough, it appears to me that the "infection" for buying shoes among women has assumed mounting proportions since I often hear my carpenter that he is extremely busy these days desining glass cabinets for shoes and that orders are pouring in from women all across the city.
I was taken aback when I went to use the rest-room in a friend's place only to discover shoe shower curtains, a shoe coaster, a shoe shaped dustbin and catalogues only for shoes. My friend took the last breath out of me when she showed me her newly acquired much talked about possession.............. a shoe shaped, diamond studded necklace.
What is it about the strange passion that makes each one of them (and a hundred million other women) go to a shoe store and spend the last penny in their wallets for a new pair of shoes.
Stilletoes, boots, slip-ons, keds, slippers, flip-flops, sandles, cow-boy cuts and a few hundred other designs and colours ranging from the basic black to unimaginable purples, blues, reds and even bright yellows, women want it all. This one for work, the other one for a camping trip, this one for a party at the boss's, that one for a girls day out, the reasons for buying shoes are countless and as ridiculous as " oh I just saw them, liked them and bought them."
The other day I heard a woman sitting with her girl-friends in an upmarket restaurant planning her 25th birthday party and asking her friends to buy her a pair of high heels, the new Vercace designs and so on and so forth for each one of them, since her husband was now sick of her buying them on her own. I found this too much to digest for my sensibilites.
Strangely enough, it appears to me that the "infection" for buying shoes among women has assumed mounting proportions since I often hear my carpenter that he is extremely busy these days desining glass cabinets for shoes and that orders are pouring in from women all across the city.
I was taken aback when I went to use the rest-room in a friend's place only to discover shoe shower curtains, a shoe coaster, a shoe shaped dustbin and catalogues only for shoes. My friend took the last breath out of me when she showed me her newly acquired much talked about possession.............. a shoe shaped, diamond studded necklace.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
The only thing that keeps me going on.....
Dreams may come and dreams go, but what should not go is the heart that dares to dream.
My morning starts with a vision to do something meaningful in life.... and as the day passses by, the aspirations dwindle away, the dreams are shattered by the stones of reality, the illusions fad away into the oblivion and I tell the plans to go take a hike.
Every time I cry about something, I promise myself that this is the last time I'm letting anyone hurt me badly and the last time that I am letting a situation get out of control......... but history repeats itself. I often face a conflict between my heart and mind where the two think in opposite directions, each one presenting their own case with full explanations in the courtroom of my soul. My sensibilities go numb and education jumps out of the window. I doubt my judgement about issues and people in general.
These are just the "black days" when people tell me that I probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
On one such "black day", I hope the sun would smile out from somewhere in between the clouds and tell me that everything has been taken care of, people are not mad at me for some reason or the other and every piece of the jig-saw puzzle has fallen into place accurately.
I guess there is only one word that describes the feeling and we all live it....... Hope.
My morning starts with a vision to do something meaningful in life.... and as the day passses by, the aspirations dwindle away, the dreams are shattered by the stones of reality, the illusions fad away into the oblivion and I tell the plans to go take a hike.
Every time I cry about something, I promise myself that this is the last time I'm letting anyone hurt me badly and the last time that I am letting a situation get out of control......... but history repeats itself. I often face a conflict between my heart and mind where the two think in opposite directions, each one presenting their own case with full explanations in the courtroom of my soul. My sensibilities go numb and education jumps out of the window. I doubt my judgement about issues and people in general.
These are just the "black days" when people tell me that I probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
On one such "black day", I hope the sun would smile out from somewhere in between the clouds and tell me that everything has been taken care of, people are not mad at me for some reason or the other and every piece of the jig-saw puzzle has fallen into place accurately.
I guess there is only one word that describes the feeling and we all live it....... Hope.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The skin show.
Long ago I heard this song on radio "we had joys, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun........."
and like most people, I could identify so much with the lyrics. It took it me on a train of memories of my wonderful childhood.
One of the few things I always remember about my childhood is wounds. They were always there... on my knees, elbows, wrists, legs, basically everywhere. Somehow I always found it amusing that I could walk safer and run faster when I had an injured knee and wrote my exams quicker with a bruised elbow.
As time went by, I remember the wounds becoming smaller and skinned knees becoming a history. By the time I reached grade 10, all i can remember was appearing for my matric exams without any kind of injury. I had given up playing basketball and riding my bike to school for the sake of my academics. For some time it felt alien to not have a persistent pain in one body part or the other. I missed running to the nearest medical store for the "band-aids" that cme in all colours and sizes and with all kind of cartoon charecters prinited on them.
With time, all of this became a memory that was conveniently staked up in the attic of my memories. It all decided to come flashing back to me when one fine day I actually managed to trip on an uneven surface and skinned my knee (of all the things!!!!!). Suddenly, it seemed that there was a sharp blade like thing that just cut my knee and blood was oozing out. It was no the pain but I was surprised at my ownself for the way I reacted on seeing those drops of blood tripping down my leg. I was hysterical, I actually tried to control my tears and instead of going for a simple "band-aid", I decided to rush to the doctor. And if that was not all, I opted for a tetanus shot (which I hated as a 9 year old) and got a complete dressing of my wound done.
It only took me a few painkillers to get proper sleep during the night.
I was surpirsed at the change in my own perceptions with time and age. What I took in my stride as a kid was not a scary experience for me. What I thought was a part of my routine in good old days now looked like a tragic paiful and an embarrasing thing to have happened to me.
Do wirte in a line if you think you agree with me.
and like most people, I could identify so much with the lyrics. It took it me on a train of memories of my wonderful childhood.
One of the few things I always remember about my childhood is wounds. They were always there... on my knees, elbows, wrists, legs, basically everywhere. Somehow I always found it amusing that I could walk safer and run faster when I had an injured knee and wrote my exams quicker with a bruised elbow.
As time went by, I remember the wounds becoming smaller and skinned knees becoming a history. By the time I reached grade 10, all i can remember was appearing for my matric exams without any kind of injury. I had given up playing basketball and riding my bike to school for the sake of my academics. For some time it felt alien to not have a persistent pain in one body part or the other. I missed running to the nearest medical store for the "band-aids" that cme in all colours and sizes and with all kind of cartoon charecters prinited on them.
With time, all of this became a memory that was conveniently staked up in the attic of my memories. It all decided to come flashing back to me when one fine day I actually managed to trip on an uneven surface and skinned my knee (of all the things!!!!!). Suddenly, it seemed that there was a sharp blade like thing that just cut my knee and blood was oozing out. It was no the pain but I was surprised at my ownself for the way I reacted on seeing those drops of blood tripping down my leg. I was hysterical, I actually tried to control my tears and instead of going for a simple "band-aid", I decided to rush to the doctor. And if that was not all, I opted for a tetanus shot (which I hated as a 9 year old) and got a complete dressing of my wound done.
It only took me a few painkillers to get proper sleep during the night.
I was surpirsed at the change in my own perceptions with time and age. What I took in my stride as a kid was not a scary experience for me. What I thought was a part of my routine in good old days now looked like a tragic paiful and an embarrasing thing to have happened to me.
Do wirte in a line if you think you agree with me.
Thank you Ms.Shetty
A true story from a friend in London.
Unbelievable –but true.I was travelling by the train on a travel card & when I reached the destination station,at the exit barriers I had 2 tap my travel card.So I tap it,but it says ‘no entry’.So I go 2 the security guy standing there,who looks at my card & says ‘Ma’am you havea pre paid travel card which is not valid for travel on this over ground train..you have to pay a 20£ fine’’.So I’m like ‘I didn’t know the card is pre paid it doesn’t say so anywhere on the card and I didn’t know its not valid on this train.’ And I’m cursing myself for not checking if its pre paid and I’m like ..now what do I do.and of course I’m quickly calculating & converting comes to rs.1740..ready to beg …plead …So the guy points to this other man –his senior and says ‘Talk to him about it’’.The other man comes & is like ‘You’ll have to pay the fine ma’am’’ I am almost teary eyed & say ‘I am sorry..I ddin’t know & I don’t even live here,I’m a visitor’ So hes like ‘Where you from?’
So I reply ...’I’m from India’ .And then his face lights up and he looks at the other guy and say ‘hey what was her name sh…..’ and other guy replies ‘Shilpa Shetty’!So the boss guy is like ‘You from Shilpa Shetty’s country!!’ And I’m thinking -well is that a good thing or a bad thing..He takes out his key,opens the barrier and says ‘Go Go…Be careful next time!’I was so surprised almost shocked …thanked him a dozen times and smiled my bestest smile..almost hugged him…lol !Ya so Thanks to Shilpa Shetty I saved 20£!!!By the way :
1)I honestly had no clue it’s a pre paid travel card not valid on that ‘over ground’ train, but only used on ‘underground train’
2) both these guys were Africans
3) I kept smiling for the rest of the day
Unbelievable –but true.I was travelling by the train on a travel card & when I reached the destination station,at the exit barriers I had 2 tap my travel card.So I tap it,but it says ‘no entry’.So I go 2 the security guy standing there,who looks at my card & says ‘Ma’am you havea pre paid travel card which is not valid for travel on this over ground train..you have to pay a 20£ fine’’.So I’m like ‘I didn’t know the card is pre paid it doesn’t say so anywhere on the card and I didn’t know its not valid on this train.’ And I’m cursing myself for not checking if its pre paid and I’m like ..now what do I do.and of course I’m quickly calculating & converting comes to rs.1740..ready to beg …plead …So the guy points to this other man –his senior and says ‘Talk to him about it’’.The other man comes & is like ‘You’ll have to pay the fine ma’am’’ I am almost teary eyed & say ‘I am sorry..I ddin’t know & I don’t even live here,I’m a visitor’ So hes like ‘Where you from?’
So I reply ...’I’m from India’ .And then his face lights up and he looks at the other guy and say ‘hey what was her name sh…..’ and other guy replies ‘Shilpa Shetty’!So the boss guy is like ‘You from Shilpa Shetty’s country!!’ And I’m thinking -well is that a good thing or a bad thing..He takes out his key,opens the barrier and says ‘Go Go…Be careful next time!’I was so surprised almost shocked …thanked him a dozen times and smiled my bestest smile..almost hugged him…lol !Ya so Thanks to Shilpa Shetty I saved 20£!!!By the way :
1)I honestly had no clue it’s a pre paid travel card not valid on that ‘over ground’ train, but only used on ‘underground train’
2) both these guys were Africans
3) I kept smiling for the rest of the day
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