If she's worth it

posted from Bloggeroid

Security blanket

There is no one who can make you feel more special than your baby. And no one else who can bring you crashing to earth but her either!!

If my Sonu's tiny little world was a stage, I am pretty sure I would play a pivotal role. Pivotal, actually, is a great way to describe it. Perhaps because I spend all my time with her, bathe her, feed her, take her out, hold her, cajole her, play with her (yes I can go on and on, this is good for my ego), she seems to be pretty attached to me. I wouldn't be presumptuous to even say her world revolves around me. So, when we're together, she bullies me and teases me. We have a good time, she and me.

Scene 2. Act 1.
If you introduce another character into this scene, her father for example, she transforms completely. Move aside mom, this is fresh meat! She ignores me and couldn't care less if I were the furniture. She'll try to rebel, make a fuss of eating and blatantly break rules that she follows religiously all day like no entry to the kitchen. All the while keeping track of me from the corner of her eye, making sure her security blanket is around.

But if my ego needs a little boost, all I have to do is extricate myself from the scene. I am, so as to say her safety net. If and when she realises that I am no longer in the vicinity, she loses her bearings. Completely. She bleats for me like a little lamb lost in the woods. And it is the most beautiful sound in the world. I may not be her butter chicken but her chapati I am!!

Kitne (un)cool hain hum!!

I think I'm getting too old. Or maybe I was born old! Yesterday we went to this thing called the NH7 Weekender. A fabulous concept, if you may. 2 days long, 5 stages set up in the F1 Buddh Circuit area. Different bands playing different slots. If you don't like the music of one band, walk over to the next stage. Food stalls by the likes of Olive and Smoke House. Multiple bars. Even a mobile ATM in case you run out of your money! One big party.

So I reach there at 7pm on the final day (it ended at 10pm) and the first half an hour was great. We ran from the stage with Megadeath playing (could NEVER like hard rock) and swayed a little at the stage with afro reggae. But slowly and surely, we realised we weren't made for this scene.

I spent more time appreciating the flawless event management and innovative branding ideas there than the music itself. Don't blame me.. Put me in a Mohit Chauhan or Kailash Kher concert and I can spend hours. Ghazals, Sufi music.. Even blues by (god forbid) the likes of Bryan Adams or rap by Eminem is up my alley. But rock? I guess besides a few months in high school where I pretended to like it to be 'cool', it was really never my poison!

So a yum burger and a few Mojitos later, the clock barely striking 9, we made a quick exit- back to my baby and my inviting bed. Leaving the head bangers and the tattooed behind. It was a cool concept, but perhaps I am just not cool enough for it!!!

posted from Bloggeroid

Hold my hand

There was an article a couple of days back in the Times Of India about how uncool it is to call your loved one by an endearment like jaan or hon. The author also went on to say that she despises public displays of affection like holding hands.

Hmmm. Thank god I'm not in the race to be cool. I would cringe if he called me Hanu or (god forbid) Harnoor. I find it impersonal and cold. There are enough people in the world who use my name, it makes me feel special to have him not use it.

And don't get me started about holding hands. Call me immature or weird but I find holding hands the greatest expression of love. It signifies that I want to protect you.. And that I can not imagine letting go of your hand for a moment. Reaching out in a movie, on a drive.. Or just while strolling, there is such sweet innocence about holding hands. Such warmth.

So don't beat me up for being childish.Hold my hand, my love, and tell me once more that you love me. Coz I can never hear it enough times..

posted from Bloggeroid

The Lost World - Bhutan

Bhutan, a travel destination that doesn't feature too often in the Top 10 Travel List of people yet was always a dream of mine to visit. Second only to Florence and Rome in Italy, Bhutan for me spelt mysticism and beauty. My fascination with Tibet only helped this cause as Bhutan is the Last Shangri La, the only Buddhist country left in the world.

Bhutan is a contradiction. If you do take out time to read the article, I mention that often. It watches the world from behind a thin veil and yet doesn't yearn to join the rat race. It is not backward from any angle, just not commercially exploited, which can be such a refreshing change. The people are better read, more confident of themselves and far more at peace with who they are than people I have met elsewhere. 

My latest article on Rediff only touches upon the piece of heaven that this country is. If you want to feel it in your soul, you need to book your ticket and go visit it yourself. And do it soon...before the ugly monster called commercialization dulls the vibrant hues of this nation into a monotonous grey. 

Read the article here.  

Jean Sasson writes to me!!!!!!

I have to repost this or I will just die of excitement. Jean Sasson....THE Jean Sasson who wrote tales untold of women in the Middle East like Princess and Mayada actually stumbled on my blog and read my review of her book Mayada. AND commented!

After William Dalrymple, this is the second author I have had the honor of write to me. It fills me with pride and joy to know that she liked my review and more so that she would also ask Mayada herself to read it. Life is so surreal.

You can read the review and the comments here.