Saturday, March 12, 2011

Delhi Babes

Once Ms Shobha de very aptly said that Delhi babes are walking, talking Christmas tree. I was really offended to read that, I mean how can a woman write off other women like this?. But man! Was she right or what?    Delhi is the city of fashion czars and czarians hailing this place do not look beyond fashion. It’s a city of nouveau riche with special penchant towards flamboyancy. Delhi-ites very willingly step into erratic web of fashion . I fail to understand why follow the blind race totally undermining the basic schooling and hard facts required before donning some clich├ęd bollywood kinda dresses,and lets not ignore that peculiar obsession towards brands.Infact one pertinent question keeps on haunting me, does brand mould our persona? Or is it our persona that adds an aura to whatever we don? Another query that’s giving me sleepless nights, why cant Delhi-ites take pride in what they are? Why to hide behind an artificial cloak? Dramatic ,over the edge, loud gestures? Delhi babes are nothing but what she described.’a flashy Christmas tree’.What’s with brand obsession?? What’s with plastic smiles? What’s with fake accent?? What’s with that deluded air of attitude ?(mind you, no matter how much you twitch your eyes, rake your brains, you wont find a single possible reason behind those towering attitudes).

                                                                                                                                                     I remember a rather bizarre incident. Once I was attending a mourning ceremony, one of my acquaintances was grieving her mother’s sad demise. Poor soul, she could have erased the     ever-existent water issue in Delhi by those overflowing tears. Ah! Don’t think I am getting nasty, read with patience and see what I have to share with you. So yea! All of a sudden one of the aunty ji approached her , paid condolence and said” wow beta ji, what a lovely pendent”(gasp! she actually said that). And this grieving  lady replied” thanks aunty ji, its Tanishq ,Did u see my earrings? That’s Tanishq too, khalis diamond you see”(horror of horrors!! the mermaid who just few seconds back was swimming in her own tears was suddenly transformed into a beaming diamond endorser).. lame eh?
Hmm.. come to think of it, they are not that bad, come on !we can credit them for continuously challenging our brains( hello! We use only 3%.. okk?) you need just one rendezvous with Delhi babe and your brain will be swarmed by plethora of questions and thus you can give that lame idle brain of yours few teasers. And if you get lucky enough to overhear those over the edge, loud conversations, Man! Trust me, either your day is made( if you have active funny bone in you to appreciate them as comical characters) or your day is ruined( if you are compassionate about their deteriorating brain conditions). Am I talking insane? Well then, let me share one more example with you. Here I was in a party, the host had very painstakingly arranged for a ghazal night. The group of artist was awesome, specially the lead singer. Beautiful ambience, soft music flowing in the air , a total visual and audible deligh.Enters in the weird clan often named as delhi-ites and there goes the entire magical atmosphere straight out of window. The singer bechara, poor soul I swear! He was braying his lungs out trying to touch the highest note possible to impress this clan. But hello? You mad, they are not here to please their eardrums, so kindly just steer clear okk?. I mean come-on ! There are other intensive issues to be discussed, like...
" Hey! Like your dress, Ritu Beri?” 
"Wow! Lovely bag, Gucci?”
 “ Adorable pendent, Damas?” 
 Nice ! at least they know how to admire and compliment. Excuse me? If you are thinking on these lines then I am afraid you are so sweet and innocent, real drama follows  after these overtly beautified compliments are passed. Once the lady who was graced with compliments turns her back, a new range of expression follows, like...
 “ Bah! Gucci my foot ji, pakka Thailand ke fake market ka maal hai ”
 “ Thailand? Are you mad? Just have a dekho on her.. wo Thailand kahan jayegi, it’s a direct import from Sarojini Nagar’s Khoka market, a paradise for fake seekers”.
 That poor soul( the ghazal singer) kept on screaming” tawajjo chahunga"( need your kind attention pls) but trust me they didn't adhere.they had other important issues to discuss. Come on get a life!
But one thing we do need to appreciate and admire  about them ,they are all bubbling with life and know how to have fun at any given opportunity. They have an immense talent to live life their own way. A strange loud attitude I admit ,but they do live life king size. Doesn’t matter how tattered their souls are, how inveterate anomic their heart is, they just master the art of living life king size . There indeed is something magnetic in their character. They are just like David Dhawan’s silly masala them , hate them, but just cant resist them….

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Quite strange!!!!!!

Sometimes I feel that we all are puppets, surrendering our strings to people we adore. A complete tug of war between, what we desire, and what we express. Why is it so? Why we captivate ourselves in a frame of apprehensions and pretensions?And once the frame is casted we helplessly try to wriggle out. I guess its all a game of innocent, undying desire, an unending quest to seize all the happiness in the world and shower it on people we admire in abundance.We all have, at one point of time ,veiled our pain by donning a mask of sanctity to insure our cherished one's happiness.But don't you think, sometimes we cast a net to catch dreams for others and in process end up snipping their and our wings off. The thought was indeed divine, what about the repercussions????

Quite strange

How we invite them
To enter our jungle of thoughts
To oppress our unbending decisions
To incite us to the forlornness
To command our submissions

How we allow them
To make us dance like puppets on strings
To push us in maze of self-proclaimed insecurities
To entice us for imaginative conversations
To raise us to immeasurable length of insanities

How we beckon them
To take us for a trail on our untiring feet
To fly us beyond worries and anxieties
To tread us on a conscious painful road
To make us travel against hope and satieties

How we permit them
To chatter with our heart who lives in silence
To befriend our soul who is an inveterate anomic
To give unavailing hopes a paramount importance
To dictate our whim; to tame our nightmare eccentric

How can they???



Wednesday, March 9, 2011


There is some magnetic effect in this particular word that makes it immediately likeable ‘‘EXPECTATIONS” . We are strong, with rock solid convictions, perfectly carved out future, dwelling in a blissful present, neatly ambled out from past reminiscent.
Well yeah! That’s the outer cloak that we all put on display. A little sneak peeks inside and bah! We all are weaklings, looking for anchors. With quite an ease, subconsciously though, we dwell in array of expectations. I can very aptly say that we all admire or scrutinize our self-worth’s reflection in the mirror of expectations. Once this image shatters, our eyes starts wincing with piercing pain, and lets not talk about this silly frail heart who is always ready to give up, and collapse at any given chance.
Last night I was conversing with my friend,who was totally shattered, as his safety net of expectations was torn apart ( so he assumed). I tried to preach him (well we all are real good preachers when it comes to educate others). I asked him to strut in this world sans the crutches of expectations. My adorably top notch preaching were (big time fake I can get at times just to pull my friends out of the blind well of agony) “My friend! the only rescue from this pain is, do not expect anything from anyone. If something glides your way, well you will be excitingly happy and if your fist is empty by the end of the day you wont be hurt coz you never expected anything anyways”. Hmm... seems nice to hear these lines but how often can we overrule this inevitable part of our lives?. Being humans can we really cut off this emotion? Expectations are the basic foundation of any relationship. Its not important whether they are unkempt, cherished, prioritized or just dismissed by the beholder. The point is, these are the chains that tie us all together. Unless we dream we cant breath life to our fantasies. Unless we aspire we can’t paint our future vibrant. And unless we expect we neither can dream nor can we aspire …
The only fact we all need to realize is not to neglect the thin line separating expectations from dependence. Expect but do not depend on others to soak you with sunshine, expect but do not depend on others to pave your way and most importantly expect but do not depend on others to paste smile on your face.. Its our life, we are graced mortals, we need to take control of reigns and gallop around with high spirits. Expect that once you win this game they will applaud and sing praises for you but do not depend on their claps to kick start the life’s unending race..

Expectations are divine; but don't make them allied guidance turning you feeble..

Never put a relationship on pedestal
Keep a tab on those soaring high expectations
Dependency, continuous analysis plays rough
Over scrutiny jeopardizes the insinuations
It may leave us with mind numbing reliance
In no time we will be hurling with in boundaries
We end up making someone our pillar of strength
Thereby infusing them with all our energies
To discover our inner force
Lets abolish reliance and stop clinging for support
Let the force transmute weakness into courage
Though propelled alone, our battles will be fought
Past empiricism is evident
Whenever pushed beyond limits
We rescued ourselves emerging as a fighter
The experiences are proof enough
Challenges couldn’t dampen our spirit
Though alone but we always evolved as an igniter
Just give it a try and you will realize
Your spirit was waiting for that inner call
Though lone voyage may be marred by ordeals
Trust me it wouldn’t be that difficult after all