Ela Didi

The train halted with a thud. Shaken out of her thoughts Sheila looked out of the window at the busy platform of Old Delhi Railway station. It was a familiar sight. She had been to Delhi a million times before. Everytime she would excitedly get off the train to be greeted by Ela didi, her sister. This time it would be different, there would be no Ela di to embrace her when she needed it the most. The thought brought a tear in her eye. Conscious of the fellow passengers she hurriedly wiped it dry, collected her bags and got off the train.

There was no one to receive her. Probably Gupta ji must be late! A coolie asked, “mem saab samaan le jana hai?” “Nahi, mujhe lene koi a rha hai!” saying this she took her bags and searched for a place to sit. Even with a thousand people rushing past her at that moment she suddenly felt completely alone, her heart sank and she almost choked in another attempt to prevent herself from breaking down. She found an empty bench and sat down. Nostalgia overcame her.

She longed for Ela di’s motherly hug which she knew she could never get again. Ela di has passed away in a road accident just 10 days ago and here Sheila was to complete an important mission left for her by her elder sister.

Ela di had always been a fighter. Even after the strongest of protests from mom and dad she had chosen Siddharth jiju, an army officer as her life partner. They were quite happy to find an equally braveheart spouse and lived their time together to the fullest. Till one day, both the family’s worst fears came true; Siddharth died as a martyr in an encounter with the Pakistani army trying to intrude into Indian territory. The way Ela di had collected the pieces of her life after the shattering news was exemplary.

Instead of immersing herself into lifelong grief she moved onto a noble cause. She started teaching kids from the nearby slum. Everyday the kids would collect at her place to intently study from their favourite teacher. Occasionally she would treat them with home made cakes, halwa, sweets and whatever she had ever wished to give to her own children. She had appointed Gupta ji to keep track of stationary and other supplies for the students, to pick them up and drop them back. This was her mini school… this was her family.

Many times when Sheila visited her she had asked her to bring the special rabri ladoos Jodhpur was known for. And then she would lovingly gaze at her students relishing the treat. So many times Sheila would act as guest faculty and enjoy an arts and crafts session with the kids. Those were the most colourful moments for Ela. Sheila too looked forward to these moments, to see her sister smiling, at peace.

But right now she fretted even facing the students. How would she explain to the students that their favourite teacher was no more when even she hadn’t been able to come to terms with the fact. It sent a chill down her spine.

“Chai Chai Chai…” Again shaken out of her thoughts, she decided to buy herself tea and called our at a chai-walla, “bhaiya ek chai dena”

“Chai Chai Chai… ji madam do rupiya”

“Yeh lo bhaiya” she saw a male hand offering the money to the chai wala. It was Gupta ji. Then turning he briefly smiled and said, “Sorry Didi ji thoda late ho gaya! Subah subah itna traffic mil gaya… chaliye” continuing his talk he picked up the bags and started walking. Sheila followed, walking slower and sipping at her tea. It was a bit too sweet but thankfully soothing.

They had hired an auto. For almost half an hour both didn’t speak a word. Then Gupta ji decided to break the tormenting silence, “Ela didi ji hamari bhi badi behan thi… abhi umar hi kyat hi unki? Hamesha sabko khush dekhna chahti thi. Itna pyaar aur samman to kisi se nhi mila. Par mujhe poora vishwas hai ki aap bhi unhi ki tarah bade dil ki hain… bacche apko dekh kar bahut khush honge… unhe sach batana mushkil hoga par uparwala sab theek kar dega.” His eyes welled up saying this. Sheila didn’t know whether to reassure him with a smile, cry or stay silent. She decided to remain silent.

The auto rickshaw turned round the colony and Sheila spotted the board Asha School. Didi had named the school after her mom. As Gupta ji paid the auto wala, Sheila walked into the garden her didi had so fondly nurtured with the most beautiful flowers and plants. ‘Click’. Gupta ji had unlocked and opened the door. Sheila walked in and studied every article of the living room intently.

“Didi ji, Ab main chalunga… apka samaan Ela didi ji ke room mein rakh diya hai. Freeze mein pani, dudh, sabziyan sab hain… Laxmi bai thodi der mein ati hogi wo chai aur khana bana degi… safai kar degi… Aj mein bacchon ko nhi launga… ap aram kr lijiye!”

Normally Sheila used to giggle when Gupta ji called the refrigerator as “Freeze”. Today shecouldn’t bring her selfto even smile at him.

“Nahi Gupta ji aap bacchon ko le aiyeda… 3 baje hai na?? main baki sambhal lungi. Ap jaiye!”

“Didiji”

“Haanji?”

“Aap pareshan mat hona… hum mil kar bachon ko mana lenge… bacche apko bhi utna hi pyar karte hain jitna wo didi ji se karte the!”

“Thank you Gupta ji!” She really hoped what he said was true. Only if it could be as easy to tell the kids!

She locked the main door and walked into her didi’s room. Sitting down on the bed she saw the framed picture of jiju and didi together in their happy times and then a photo of didi and Sheila together. The other side of the bed which belonged to didi was empty today. This was the last straw… she let her exhausted body fall down on the bed. The flood of tears that had been controlled from Jodhpur to here broke out. She couldn’t face the children. She couldn’t face anybody. Why couldn’t didi be here! She wanted to hug her right now! She felt so helpless… so weak… so alone.

It was around one in the noon that Sheila woke up with the knock on the door. Had she slept so long? Coming back to senses to went to open the door. It was Lakshmi bai.

“Namaste jiji… kaisi hain ap… badi jiji ka sun ke bahut dukh hua. Ab kya kahun. Lagta hain ap kafi thaki hui thi maine apki jaldi to nahi utha diya?”

Sheila rubbed her eyes “Nahi Lakshmi… main theek hun! Pata hi nahi chala kab ankh lag gayi”

“Chaliye maine khana bana diya hai… ap naha ke a jayen to main paros dun”

“Haan theek hai”

Laxmi bai left the room. Sheila took out a simple white kurti and jeans from her bag and went off to have a bath. The lunch prepared by Laxmi was quite simple but fulfilling. Sheila ate almost three chappatis… double than what she ate regularly. She remembered the only thing she had taken was the cup of tea at the station. The food seemed to have satisfied her empty heart more than her empty stomach. She thanked Laxmi and went off to the outhouse… the premises for Asha School. She sat there in her didi’s seat pondering on how she would talk to the students. How would she tell them that they would never be able to see didi, their favorite teacher again. Would they accept her in place of didi? What if they refuse to come back to school? Would she ever be able to complete her didi’s mission to create educated and financially independent citizens out of these children?

Not finding an answer she started collecting materials for art and craft. Didi always kept them neatly arranged in the almirah. She brought the materials and students’ drawing books back to the table where she was sitting.

One by one she scanned the drawing books smiling at the drawings and the encouraging remarks didi had given with her signature.., an occasional smiley, an icecream, five stars, three stars, toffees etc. And the time just flew by.

“May I come in ma’am!”

Sheila was now to face her fear now which only increased as more and more students walked into the small classroom and occupied their seats. Once there they greeted her in unison… “Good Afternoon Madam”. Gupta ji had probably told the student that Sheila ma’am would be taking the class today. Overjoyed to meet their art teacher each student had brought a small gift for her. One by one the students gave her a flower, or a drawing, or a sweet their mother had made at home. They eagerly looked forward to the class. Touched by the warm welcome she wished she had brought something nice for the students. But right now all she had was the biter news that would break their hearts.

Before she could say something, Poonam, the sweetheart of the class asked, “Sheila ma’am, meri maa mujhe bata rahi thi ke Ela madamji Bhagwan ji ke paas chali gayi hain. Bhagwan ji ke ghar pe bahut sare bacche hain aur kyunki Ela ma’am yahan par sabse acchi teacher thi Bhagwan ji ne unhe un bacchon ko padhane bula liya. Wo bacchon ko padha kar wapis a jayengi na hamare paas”

How Sheila wished she could say yes.

“Poonam idhar ana!” She hugged the child. Then she said “ nahi Poonam Bhagwan ji ne Ela ma’am ko apne paas rakh liya hai. Par Ela ma’am apne bacchon se itna pyaar karti hain wo umhe aise akela chod sakti hai??”

The kids agreed in unison “ Nahin , Ela ma’am hame kabhi akela nahi chodti thi!”

“Isiliye unhone mujhe bola ke main tumhe ake padha dun. Batao tum mujh se padhoge na”

“Haan, ap bhi to itni achi ho! Bilkul Ela ma’am jaisi” the students joyously said

“Main aise thodi na manungi. Jo jo bacha mujhse padhna chahta hai wo idhar akar mujhe ek badi si jhappi dega!”

“jadoo ki jhappi!” said another kid and they all rushed to take Sheila into their embrace. For a moment she felt didi embracing. Each kid was filled with the love didi had showered over them. Didi’s love that she must have reserved for this very moment to reassure her of her elder sister’s presence near her in the students, in this classroom, in this abode of hers.

Ela didi had not gone anywhere… she was right there and will always be there with them to complete her mission. Maybe she had gifted each student with her determination and compassion to become a better citizen some day.

And so started the art class for the day! Each student made a drawing of Ela di and scrawled some words below asking Ela didi to “come back soon”. And Ela di… she was right there smiling away at her students seeing them put their love into the sheets and those colourful moments of togetherness had come alive again.

In The Dark

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I sat terrified in my pitch dark room. They were approaching. I could hear their echoes in the hallway. They wanted to take me away from my room; my hiding place, the only place I felt safe in. I couldn’t let them do that. I locked the door. But the latch it refused to move… The footsteps kept coming closer. Godammit the latch was stuck. Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to cry for help but couldn’t risk them discovering me here! Even the strongest of my prayers didn’t make the latch move. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling! Then the voice came, “Tina… are you there?” It pierced me through the darkness of the room. My greatest fear now stood across the door.

I shuddered to the core. My mind seemed to have lost all sense of judgment. They kept on calling my name. Then the door started thumping. I could feel the pain rising in my temples… I could feel it thumping on my head like a hammer… I could feel sweat and goosebumps all over me…I could feel tears blurring my vision. I could feel the pain getting the better of me… only to grow more intense, more killing, more thumping than ever. I shouted for mercy but the assaults did not stop.

I couldn’t believe my mom and dad doing this. Why did they not listen to my pleas for mercy. I was shouting like a maniac looking for a place to hide… to shut off the thumping. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get my dose right now. I rummaged my wardrobe, toppled the drawers, searched below the pillow, the sheets, the bed. I didn’t care. I needed the rush. Every second that passed made it even more difficult to bear the pain, to breath, to stand. To top it the thumping and calling continued.

Windows… Oh my God the windows were not closed? I ran to shut the windows. Double checked the latch and tied the curtain around the handles so there was no chance for even God to sneak through. The Hell had not yet ended… it kept sinking deeper and deeper. The room seemed to get darker and darker, scarier and suffocating. My heat seemed to be bursting out of my chest. I felt like dying.

I gave it a final try reaching my hand below the bed. Finally after what seemed to be ages my hand felt a glass bottle. I shrieked as if I’d found elixir. With hands which were now trembling like a half dead fish I found a syringe feeling my hand through the pile of things I’d thrown from the wardrobe, pulled out the magic liquid from the bottle and pierced it through my skin.

I’m not sure if that helped. I curled up into a bundle on the floor, shut my eyes and pressed my hands hard on my ears to block the thumping and shouts coming from outside the door. I don’t even remember when I passed off.

As I woke up this morning, It took me some time to realize that I was alive. I had felt death coming to me that night. For once I was happy to believe I was dead the simplest way I had give a permanent end to the hell and pain I had gone through. A permanent end to my problems. A permanent end to me.

Today at age 18 I’m in a drug rehab institute going over a similar hell every day. But had my parents not got me here that day I wouldn’t have survived to the hope of a normal sane existence that awaits me beyond getting over my addiction of the hell named heroin.

Laughing Club

I was at my wit’s end! Nothing seemed to be going right in life and the situation looked like it won’t improve anyways. Work, Finances, Love, my life had crashed on every possible frontier! Living away from my family for work made me feel even lonelier. I dragged myself through the day emotionally exhausted in a lifeless, hopeless blur; only to get back to an empty apartment and stressed sleepless nights! I needed hope! I needed a miracle… but more importantly I needed a vent to free myself of the mountain of stress that was killing me every second.

I had managed to live through another such sleepless night. Just too bored of tossing sides in bed, at around 5 AM I decided to do something I’d not done in ages… go for a morning walk. I’d heard of it being therapeutic. And so 15 minutes later I found myself in the park nearby soaking the early sunlight and inhaling the fresh air between the chain of yawns and rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Had I walked a few more steps, I would have caught up on the sleep I’d missed so long without realizing I was on the bed or the park’s walking track.

Then it came, like a bolt from the dark and shook me out of sleep. Had Kumbhkaran( Ravana’s Bro, the villain in the Ramayana) been here even he would have woke up to such a laughter (consider the amount of money that could have been saved). I discovered that the laughter came from a bunch of oldies who collected there daily to laugh their heads off. Amused I walked over to witness a laughter club for the first time in my life.

Assuming me to be interested, an old man even signaled me to join. For once I decided to retrace my steps. Laughing this way wasn’t my cup of tea and presently my life didn’t have any reason to laugh. Then again I did something that puzzles me till date. I don’t know what pulled me but the very next moment I was standing with the laughter club.

Laughter is the most infectious thing on earth. Even as I was standing there not in a frame of mind to laugh I found it hard to resist myself from breaking into laughter. The curve of my lips rose upward from smile to full scale hysteria and my stomach ached laughing. I continued to laugh till long after the others had paused for a breath. I realized I must stop but the laughter just kept coming. I tried to take a somber expression without success,
I tried to remind myself of my problem but still couldn’t stop.

I tried to gag my mouth again without any success. My laughter finally subsided with me choking for a second. I suddenly felt as if the stress I’d carried for ages had had been unloaded. I had won a war that had once seemed to have kept no chance of survival for me. The other club members started cheering. I guess they understood. They’d seen many of my likes winning their battle. Maybe some of them, like me had won their battle from their frustrations. For them everyday was a victory won with laughter and celebrated together with laughter. Without having said a word, I felt powerfully connected to each of the club members at that moment. I didn’t have to speak my heart out or tell anyone. Instead of unloading my worries onto someone I was filling my head with positive laughter that would leave no space for worries. The battle I had won that day made me strong enough to face the other battles in my life. My time had come

That day onwards I’ve become a permanent member of this laughter club. I don’t care if its members are only oldies. I don’t care if somebody sees me laughing like mad for no reason. Coz I know everyday I’m the one winning!

It's storytime!

Hello there people!

I have recently taken on to writing short stories just as a matter of testing my narrative skills! I'll be posting some of my stories here in the following posts! I need some really honest and quick feedback from you people on a scale of 10 on each of the stories also comment whether the story is effective, interesting, boring or whatever you feel! so Happy Reading!

n Keep Blah Blahing!
God Bless!

Aa gale lag ja!!

My colleagues turned their heads and stared at me in disbelief. Some smiled others gaped… I was the centre of attraction.

By now u must have guessed agar Meet ye keh rahi hai to kuch to locha hai… Me, the centre of attraction! Ha ha

Well who doesn’t like to be the centre of attraction but at this moment it was actually not so likable. I wished I could hide myself in some remote part of the world, so remote that I could have actually run in to Osama. Hell I was embarrassed!

But thankfully for me (as well as Osama… what a coincidence two of the most powerful ppl in this world share rhyming names) the hell didn’t last long. Phew. So what’s all this about??

Well one of my colleague had asked me which movie is the song “tera mujhse hai pehle ka nata koi…” from. I, being forever in super excited and super loud mode, blurted out “Aa Gale Lag Jaa”.

Thanks to my extra sonic pitch the words echoed in the entire marketing department which at that very selected moment also had people from the other departments… A GOOD 15 HEADS TURNED (including a majority of 12- 13 amused men). Jinxed!!

2 minutes of silence for my virtual suicide and then all broke out laughing. I bet if they had remained silent for some more time I would have got a gud guided tour of hell. Newayz the jinx was broken and I was alive laughing at my self… (An after effect of the jinx I guess!)

I’m sure ek ya do ladke zaroor disappointed honge…(reminds me of the A R Rehman song which has ppl giving free hugs! Sorry guys I can’t get down to such charity!)

Waise I guess it was not as bad as I think (atleast no body actually came to claim a hug). That way my office ppl are great fun. atleast I cn definitely say tht 4 marketing department (where I work as content writer) and R&D department (where I have my other foot being the technical writer) You see I’m multifunctional.

But seriously working in your home town has its own joys. Not that I don’t miss the fun of working in a big city in a cool communications company. Not that I don’t miss all those exciting assignments and fun office environment not to forget all the cool places to hang out and all the fun I had with my cousin. But yeah seeing mom so happy and having my family, my room, my bed to go home to after work is truly a blissful feeling. What else I’ve got my Mom and Dad’s complete attention and they pampering me in all possible ways. (I must stop before I make my brother jealous…Miss u bhaiya! Love you)

Most importantly I’m back working in a position matching my job profile and not in an anveyi company. The best about the office is I have some really fun colleagues who don’t let me go home without having had a gud laugh (thanks to their hilarious talks and great sense of humor)! Yeah there are some people who love to indulge in office politics and meaningless petty gossip but we find some fun in that too. It’s been great so far and I wish it remains so ahead. I too am getting an attitude makeover for a more positive one. I hope I could bring Chetna out here. I miss her terribly and I’m sure she’ll restore her cheerful nature in good company. I hope the point is taken Chetu dear!!

I’m loving spending some great quality time with my mom after being away so long first in Ahmedabad and then B’lore. A time I’ll forever cherish.

Mom too is back in action after her surgery and I’m doing as much as I can to help her. SRK’s got his shoulder mended and must be at his home taking rest. Good for him, seeing the amount of time he’s spent in pain. I wish him a speedy recovery. Loved him in ‘Billu’ n eagerly waiting for “My Name is Khan” (Isn’t that too obvious Meet…what else can ppl expect from you). Even my office ppl know about my SRK mania.

Ok ok I’ll cut my SRK fantasy trip here!

That’s all for my account till now. I really wish I can get back to blogging as frequently as possible. Till then Ciao, loads of love and God bless

Shruti I hope I’ve put my thinking to some if not enough gud use!

Signing off with a promise for better blog (called chittha in Hindi … chit+ thanda wala th+ aa) post next time (plz don’t kill me if I don’t put up with the expectations which m sure kuch zyada nahi hongi) and a request

Keep Blah Blahing… Keep smiling and Keep living life to the fullest

(Ye to teen ho gaye… but all are simple enuf and equally important!!)

Please pray for SRK’s speedy recovery!! (Ok… ok… sorry last one plzzz!)

God Bless.

Sweet Nothings… Between the Sheets.

I’m into the talks of a married man these days
He utters sweet nothings between the sheets
His voice makes my heart beat
He gives me my horny moment
Teases me with his naughty accent.
It’s an affair of every Wednesday night
Between the sheets and zero light.

Ahaa what’s blah blah without a few raised eyebrows, a fallen jaw and gaping eyes!!
Chill guys every thing is not as it seems. Bring ur imagination to a pause before u create a complete wrong picture! Yeah yeah I agree the fault is mine… I’m the one askin 4 trouble; asking a hundred charging bulls of imagination to attack me. So before these bulls get wild let me remove the sheets and switch on the lights!! [;)]

Any of my friends who listen to Meow FM know what I’m talking about. There’s this really cool segment they’ve named Between the Sheets (let me use BTS). And in the lines above I’m talkin bout the host Anil. I hope I don’t need to explain ‘ between the sheets n zero light’( obviously at this time I’m in he tbed, lights switched off and it’s just the FM thts playin on my mobile thru my earphones. Though you can replace the sheets wid blankets. With the brrrrr cold neone wud freeze between sheets.)!!

How I bumped into BTS?? Well being so used to listening to the FM n goin of to sleep while I ws in Ahmedabad, I continued the trend wen I returned to Jodhpur. Yahan to bhai saare FM ki battiyan 11 baje hi gul ho jati hain. Thankfully Meow FM plays songs thru the nite. The first time I heard this segment on the Wednesday, after I returned frm Ahd, I got completely glued to it!!

Obviously it’s a talk show. But it’s not like others at night that talk about love problems( The ones with people talking in an ‘expert’ly husky voice. Naah I’ve heard many of these in Ahd. and Bang. (Snore)) Definitely ppl do need such shows n like them too. But it’s just that now I’m too saturated with such philosophical segments.

What’s gud bout BTS is that they generally take up some cool topics, though related with love and relationships, but do not sound like problem solving types (sorry FM ppl if I make it sound too disgusting. I’ve complete respect for the ppl out there helping someone solve their prob.)
First of all for once if you hear Anil’s he’s amazing with his voice, he’s flirty and fun and so alive that any young gurl wud cheer up. It has this boing effect on you! (to know the effect say boingggg n you’ll know.). N just imagine wat he’s been married for 14 years( It came as a bolt to me too, he sounds not a bit above 20… umm …or maybe 25)!! Every first time caller can ask 4 a horny moment, n the only thing ‘horn’y bout it is the funny trumpet or horn they play( goes like pappararapan pappararapan pappararapan paan paan) n u’re welcomed to the Meow family.

Coming to the topics again BTS scores over others coz Anil lets the gurls do the talking, what he does is he turns the conversation in such a casual manner that the talker feels completely at ease. Being girls the callers often go onto an emotional tangent. But Anil’s a great listener and does not give judgments or ultimatums. He just give cues that suddenly u realized ‘Hey I never thot bout that!!’ n wat seems like a knot becomes so simple. N believe me girls u blah blah is in safe hands…coz this guys talks complete sense!( So if you believed that all guys are idiots. Here’s an exception! Enjoy it!)

Recently in a conversation wid a caller I came out wid exact words for Anil. Guys out there I’m highlighting this part 4 u. Read it atleast a 100 times and put it into ur bird brains. When a girl is upset she needs a listening ear and not an interrogation officer! Listen what she says and probe only as much as she can say! Stop barking!! Stop digging into the already hurt feelings!! U won’t find a golden bone!! Instead u may land up in a mine or dynamite blast!! So I strongly recommend this segment to u guys. Listen to it and take some cues from Anil. And u get the bonus of getting to know what’s on ur gurl’s mind as well.

So, over to Anil, Meow Between the Sheets, every Wednesday n Thursday 10.30pm to 1am or so. Anil plz confirm the time in the interest of Meow- deprived ppl of India. For the Jodhpur ppl, as far as my info is concerned, u can catch this segment only on Wednesday nights. Girls sit back, listen and enjoy (n savour Anil’s voice ofcourse!!). Guys make use of it!! N Anil, bravo, encore, hands down, a big bow, keep up the wonderful job.
Keep Meow…ing
n my frens Keep Blah blahing!!
(It’s just a language difference…funways and technically, it’s the same! Or shall I say it’s blah blah on a professional level…Right Anil)
God Bless

Back from Bangalore… and Thankfully Away from Pappu!!

If u are thinking I’m talkin bout some chashmish guy with oily hair and braces. Stop right there!! But what m talking bout is even yuckier than that and thankfully I’m now 48 hrs and several kms (I won’t go into calculating the distance between Jdpr n B’lore) away from it!!

Firstly, yes, I’m bk frm Bangalore after learning loads, enjoying loads n making grt friends. It has been a grt experience. I lived in a PG for the first time in my life, managed my things n roamed around Bangalore(It’s a really happening city n ya there’s loads to explore. I’ve not been able to explore the whole of it yet.) Well many of you must have already dn that b4 so it’s not that big a thing, but ya newayz it ws my first experience and a learning one!

So how did Pappu jump in between? Well actually the interesting part is that Pappu is a B’lorian term for Daal cooked in lunch or dinner. (Yeah, even I was equally surprised wen my fren told me so!!) But for truth there’s nothing so surprising about this Daal except its name. It’s as bland as the food cooked for the ill.

So why a blog on Pappu?? (c’mon Meet, you cd hav written smthing better!!) It’s coz they’ve been stuffing me with the same pappy every day of the week for an entire month and a half. The only variation one cud expect is a thinner version of the same thing with a few vegetables floating around (n yes they even named it Sambar, enuf variation to avoid protests frm girls. huh??). So lunch was Pappu, rice and Rasam and thankfully papad( the only thing u cud expect to add sm taste!! People in my PG said that the food was million times better than that in other PGs!! Rest u cn imagine!!

I’m reminded of a song from the movie Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon that goes like “ Prem meri aankhon mein hai…”(why m I thinking of that disgusting song?!). that just fit my situation, “Pappu meri aankhon mein hai… pappu mere digestive system mein hai..” ( Eeeeuuuuuuughh!! Now it’s becoming too disgusting!!)

P.S. On Sunday they used to make chicken curry for lunch, that was actually not too bad considering what we got the rest of the week.

But one thing I’m sure of, had I stayed there a few more days, I would have definitely got a pappu nightmare… Imagine there’s a big cauldron of Pappu and I’m getting sucked into it and there’s no one to pull me out!!(Urgh!! Meet, u must get an award for ur disgusting imagination and one for the even more disgusting description.) Thank God, I’m bk home!! So no more Pappu!!

So I’ve decided, now that I’m here I won’t have rice for at least 1 entire month.

P.S. The above statement is subject to change if my mom cooks Rajma chawal...(That’s one thing I can’t resist. I was craving for Rajma in B’lore!)

For now I’m relaxing at home… I really don’t intend to go bk to Pappu! But yeah I need to get down to sm serious job hunting now!! Wish me luck!!

Take care, God Bless…Keep blah-blahing!!

Until then Pray for me Brother…Pray for me Sister!!!