Life is short. Have an affair.

Smart tagline. Controversial service.

ashleymadison.com. A dating service for single people (fine!) and more so for people in a relationship (hmmm) and even more so, for married people (now, you're talking!), looking to have an affair.

And ashleymadison.com is attracting a lot of clients. Let me rephrase that. And ashleymadison.com is attracting a lot of clients who are married, looking to have affairs. Men , women, husbands, wives. they're all there. they're all having affairs.

So I watched this show ..a talk show in which they interviewed the founder of the above mentioned service. And even though the talk show host and the audience were trying to get all self righteous on him, I really thought the man had a point. And his point was this. He wasn't promoting adultery or telling people that they should have an affair. According to him, the people who come to the website, seeking affairs, have already actually decided to step outside their marriage. His web service was merely facilitating it.

And honestly, I think, his argument is fair ! The man, even, has a point. Adultery exists. Spouses cheat. Really, married people have affairs. That is just how it is.

Why? The reasons are plenty and very varied, I can imagine. Sometimes, it is just the boredom of the many many years of being with one person. It could be the drudgery of everyday life. Nothing at all to to do with the spouse. Just someone seeking some excitement. A thrill. Something naughty. Something to make you feel 20 again. When you're really hitting 40. Sometimes, it has got everything to do with the spouse. Disinterested spouse. Boring sex life. lack of chemistry. Etc , etc, etc.

And hey, sometimes, it' just too much vodka. And a cute guy at the bar on the girls night out. Or an ex flame. A secret crush. Unrequited love from the past. Pure physical chemistry with a colleague.

Like I said, the reasons are plenty. And varied. As I can imagine are the consequences.

The choice , however, is only this. Log in. Or log out.

Red wine

It's either the bottle of red wine I just downed or a brilliant realistation! But what I realised is that it's ok! Everything's Ok! Life's ok.
You just live it the best you can. In between the daily stresses of finances and clutter and jobs and kids, you just live it the best you can. And you just tell yourself, this is another day I lived and tomorrow will be better.
Because the more you over complicate it, the more complicated it will be.
You don't judge, you don't over moralize and you definitley don't over stress. Because honeslty if you give it your best shot, it will work out.
I mean, look around you. The Mumbai terror that just happened. The CNN documentary about the nuclear threat to the US in 2013. Terrorism. Poverty. And all that. We are not exaclty citizens of an ideal world. Of a world that promises you much happiness and much peace.
And given that, the peace and the happiness that you can create is for yourself, around yourself.
I am more and mroe ainclined to belive that it is a state of mind, more than anything else.
You tell yourself you are going to have a good day and then you make sure of that.
Beacause this is your life. And as a non believer in a second life, this is your only life. Your one chance at making it happen.
So you make it happen. To the best you can.
And then , for the rest of it......ther's always red wine!
nad ecxues the typos......what cna I say.... it must be the red wine!

My dose of desi

I got me a dose of pure desi today! Much needed it was too, by god ki kasam!

Early Sunday afternoon. I started watching Dostana and although I don't think the film will win any critics awards, it cracked me up in bits and pieces.

Kiron Kher as the Punjabi mom and her Phoolo phallo, kher chodo! That one defintiley deserved a LOL!

John Abraham, flexing every possible muscle in every possible way, in speedos that barely covered an extremely taut butt, no laughing matter , that.

Abishek Bacchan , I like. Priyanka Chopra lookin hot. Sizzzzling Shilpa Shetty. Boman Irani with his over the top gay persona.

Then throw in not one, not two, but three love angles. Also bring in a motherless kid, an Aunty, a glitzy apartment, a few firangis and an expressionless Bobby Deol...and I had my Sunday after noon serving of pure time pass.

And then of course, what's a Hindi movie without the music. Maula, maula was lovely. My desi girl, wanted me to get up and do some jhatka, matkas!

That's what I am talking about. Jhatka matkas bollywood style was what I needed in my life.

So I decided to overdose. By following up the movie with last years IIFA's awards! And boy, was it a good idea, by God ki kasam.

As I sorted laundry, I watched Govinda dance, true Govinda ishtlye. That man, seriously, is one of a kind. And I love him for that.

And I watched Akshay Kumar doing his Singh is King thing. In true Akshay style. By entering the stage on a skate board, suspended in the air.

Boman Irani and Deshmukh at their slapstick best. Kareena, Priyanka , Katrina and Diya shake their booties.

The dhinchuk music. The glitter and glam.

The wannabe Hollywood "Who are you wearing" question on the, now environmentally friendly "green" carpet. And to that question, Govinda's non - wannabe response "Suit pehena aa, jaise aap dekh rahe hai."

The Bacchan line family line up- Amitabh, Jaya, Abhishek and Ash with their Dior, Armani, Manish Malhotra and Dolce Gabana couture!

Bollywood, Bollywood and then some more!

My indie film, world cinema watching self took a much needed Bollywood break today. And it did me good. I was entertained. Pure filmi ishtyle.

What can I say? You can take a Desi girl out of India.......

On a break

Have you ever just taken a break? From all of it. From life. And not necessarily a physical break...like going away somewhere. More , in your head. Being physically present, yet not. Living the life, not feeling it, though. In a room full of noise, from your husband and the kids, yet absolutely hearing nothing. Pretending to listen on the phone. Being quiet for hours, because no one's interesting enough to talk to . Day dreaming. Watching mindless TV. Boycotting the mall. Packin up all your stuff in boxes and not missing it. Not caring that the toilet paper is almost over. Or the rice. No longer being the hyperactive busy body. No longer wanting to do stuff. Or deal with issues. Or change.
Just for now. Because I know I'll be back. Recharged. Re invented.
But for now, this feels okay. Solitary.
Peaceful. In a very strange way. What a trip!

My new BFF

Paris Hilton has a new reality show on MTV. It's called My New BFF. It's about Paris Hilton looking for a new BFF. The contestants are 22 year old girls, competing to be Paris Hilton's new BFF. With every episode , Paris Hilton will eliminate a contestant , thus leaving the rest to be still in competition to become Paris Hilton's new BFF. All these girls will try their darndest best to be Paris Hilton's new BFF. At the end of the show, the last girl standing will be Paris Hilton's new BFF. A lot of viewers will tune in every week to watch this show about Paris Hilton and her soon to be new BFF.

I have no more to say.

Our spot.

My best friend. She knows who she is. I know who she is. It's set in stone.

And she and me have our spots. Spot, special place, corners..call it what you will.

It all started at an advertising agency. Big , ugly chairs. Art directors, Copywriters,Client Servicing. Noise, brainstorming, chatter, deadlines. Copy, art, branding..all of that. Amidst all of that- us. And here, we made a connection. And left it at that.

Then there was a bus. A run down charter bus from Connaught Place to Noida. Cramped with sweaty office goers returning home from work, sleazoids trying to grope women, women trying to brush off those sleazoids, families with kids, college kids, shopkeepers, noise, sweat, grime. Defintely not the most conducive setting for getting to know someone.

And yet, amidst all that we would find a spot. And that would become our spot. For the next hour. Where we would talk. Office gossip. Boyfriends. Bosses. Break ups. College days. Here, we would get to know one another. One bus ride at a time.

Fast forward to 5 years later. Destiny interfered with us. I truly belive that. Because, completely unplanned, completely unexpected, completely unknowingly, we were there. At the same place. And we were meant to be there. To find again, our spot.

And find it, we did. In Tipusan ( and she'll get the drift here). Mattress on the floor against a wall in a medium sized living room which had a wash basin in a corner. Vodka, rum and coke, smokes. Painting, films, joints. Conversation. About life. About the struggles in life. Divorces. Marriages. Friendships. About the charter bus that ran between CP and Noida. About the advertising agency. Here, we were catching up. Here, we were also setting our friendship in stone. Here, we were realising that we were meant to be best friends. Realising that we were meant to be here.

Years passed. Stuff happened. Major stuff, minor stuff. Mostly major stuff. And then, another spot. This time, a more grown up, a more evolved, a more relaxed , a more " I get you" spot. A brightly colored jute chattai rolled out on a kitchen floor. Food on the kitchen counter. Vodka and lime. Rum and coke. No husbands. Kids in bed. Night time. Conversation. Conversation. And some more conversation. About marriage. About Women. Parenting. Love. Life. Kids. Family. Sibling. World cinema. Music. Friends. Fashion. Careers. the past. The present. The Future. Her life. My life. Our lives.

To be continued.




.

Soul feeding is what I'm talking about

Lots of layers..lots of volume...an hour out by myself...one happy me.

Soul feeding is all it's about. Stay focussed on staying happy. De-stress. Talk to your best friend. Laugh. Wear lipstick. And some silver. Detach. Attach. Flirt. Smile. Drink a good cup of coffee. Stretch. Tone. Crunch your abs. Love your body. Cook a mean curry. Celebrate. Read.

Whatever floats your boat.

As long as you know.

Girlie stuff

I'm going to get me a haircut today.
Toni and Guy , 1:30 pm.
Lots of layers, lots of volume.

Today

So in the past, I would normally journal , on a bad day. If I was going through a bad phase, I would almost always turn to my diary. Vent, curse, boo hoo into the pages.
This time around, though, I decided not to do so. I shall write and I shall write- on good days, on bad days, through the happy phases and the not so happy phases. Because really, life's like that...mine, for sure.
So anyway, that thought I just had..while I was logging in...
This is really about today. A simple day.
And as I sat on my bed, with Gia fast asleep in my arms , wrapped snugly in the FabIndia blanket that Roohi has sent for her, and I watched "Eyes wide Shut", it just felt right. And there in that moment, I realised that my life is about this. About some moments feeling so good and others not so much. Today I am savouring the good ones.

The world , as I see it , from the window of my apartment

Girl wearing blue skinnies, well fitting black jacket, high black boots, carrying a white umbrella. Walking in a hurry.
A long green truck, with 'Pizza Nova' written on it in bright red.
Dusko, the property manager, wearing a boring blue sweater, biege pants, brown leather shoes. Stands in conversation with a middle aged (slightly graying) man, wearing a black rain winter jacket with a red trim and white lining that peeks through the hood of the jacket. Dusko moves his hands a lot while talking. The man nodds a lot. Every now and then Dusko reaches into his pockets , yet pulls out nothing. Just lets his pocket warm his hand. The right hand. Does the left not need warmth, I muse.
Now a big white truck moves in . On the front of it, it says "Who cares when you are moving? We do" . Somewhere, a copywriter needs to be fired! Home Delivery by Avenue Moving. Someone is moving in.
Now Dusko is joined by his assistant. A very well dressed assistant. Chic. She's tall, has a well worked out body, dark black short hair tucked behind the ears ( a very no nonsense sort of haircut), fair skin. Today, she wears a burgundy tight fitting croppped jacket with a black pencil knee length skirt. Black opaque stockings and high heeled black boots. Black scarf wrapped around her neck. She obviouly dresses at leisure in the morning. Takes her time.
Something distracts me...Oooh, shocking purple. I see a shocking purple sweatshirt. It's too shocking and it's too purple. I do not even notice the person wearing it.
And now that my coffee is done, adieu, world from my window. Till the next time.

Hue

These days, I'm loving hot pink.

Shopping madness

So yesterday I was at Walmart. Not out of choice. It was necessity. We were out of toilet paper, paper towels, coffee, toiletries and I had held off the trip long enough.

So to Walmart we went. And like always, the trip completly depressed me. I returned with everything that I needed. And a fewthings that I did not- Irritability, a mall glazed look in my eyes, and an overload of consumerism.

And it all came from being in a place that has too much of everything. Stuff, stuff, and more stuff.

And it got me thinking this- when did we start needing so much stuff? And, really, do we need so much stuff?

Toiletries, for example. I counted at least 23 different kinds of bodywashes. And I hadn;t counted all. Bodywashes to suit every skin type, age, mood. To accomodate preferences of texture , smell, color. And not just to wash your body with. But to make your skin as soft as silk. And to exilarate. Exfoliate. Invigorate. Rejuvenate.

And Shampoo? Oh, the shampoo! For fine hair.
For oily hair. For dry hair. For fine hair that is oily. For fine hair that is dry. For fine hair that is partly oily and partly not.
For volume. For shine. For strengthening.
For strengthening and shine, but not volume. In case you already have volumnous hair.
For volume and strengthening, but not shine. In case you already have shiny hair.
For straight hair. Curly hair. Short hair, long hair.

For no hair , in order to grow hair. WOW!

Whatever happened to shampoo that simply cleaned the hair. And smelt nice. Period.

The onslaught of shampoo got to me and I hurried out of there. Coffee was next on the list and I figured that would be easy enough. Would have been, if I had only read the encyclopedia of coffees the day before. Medium roast, strong roast, light roast. Morning breakfast, french vanilla, hazelnut. Columbian, Jamaican, Starbucks (and that's not even a country.)
Oh my goodness, my mind screamed, all I want is a good cup of coffee to start my day. Can someone just label a package- a good cup of coffee to start your day. Honestly, that's all I want. A good cuppa coffee. And I am not shopper savvy enought to know whether that comes from Columbia or Starbucks or if it should be a medium roast or a strong roast.

I was done.

And so when my four year old asked to go to the toy section, I needed a minute to brace myself. For what I knew now would be a jungle. And a jungle it was. A mind numbing jungle of shelf after shelf of toys. Toys that children apparently need. Toys that parents apprently need to buy for their kids. To strengthen their eye hand coordination. To hone their motor skills. To develop their listening skills. Improve memory. Encourage imagination. Improve communication. Aid learning. Cultivate social skills.

Robots, transformers, cars, lego, magnetic logo, puzzles, blocks, magnetic blocks, rockets, guns, Spiderman, Superman, the Hulk, disney toys, Barbies, Kens, Barbies with Kens, dolls competing with Barbies, laptops, video games, hand held video games, travel toys, house toys, park toys, beach toys, toys for babies, toys for toddlers, toys for preschoolers, toys for big kids, toys for teenagers,...........

We came away with nothing.

Oh no, that's not right . We did come away with a seriously overwhelmed, overstimulated 4 year old.

Who, right now, as I write this, sits next to me , happily playing with two jars of play dough, that I picked up at the dollar store, and a wooden rolling pin from the kitchen.

And we did come away with a completely distraught, confused parent. Who is wishing that the toilet paper lasts and lasts and lasts . So the next trip does not come any time soon.

Conversations

She:
I'm at a strange place. Constantly thinking. Introspecting.

Her:
About?

She:
Mostly me.

Her:
Aha. The 30's. Me, My self. Who I was, what I set out to be, what I have become.

She:
Who gets me? Who doesn't? How much I have given to another, and in doing so, what I have lost? Was it worth it? Is it worth it? Am I happy? Am I me?


Her:
I know. Me too. It's a 30's thing, I think. I feel this constant questioning in me, this quest for answers for questions, mostly about my self.

She:
It's like the other day when I was talking to him and I suddenly realised that he doesn't get me...after 18 years of being together. And yet , talking to you over the past hour, I think you do.

Her:
That, my dear, is a woman thing.

She:
And yet, he is meant to be my soulmate.

Her:
Or maybe not. It's what you percieved him to be. What he is stereotyped to be.

She:
So?

Her:
So what? He is what he is to you. But he cannot be all that. Make your peace.

She:
I think about my 20's. About being 20. I was like a leaf blowing in the wind. Happy to go where they took me . Excited to be where I landed. Go with the flow. Explore, experiment. It was all about movement. Change houses, move cities, countries, even. The newness was exciting. Everything was a challenge and challenge felt good.

Her:
And now, it's tiring.

She:
And friends. Everyone was a friend. Hang out with whoever I met. Social circles. The more , the merrier.
And now I am just weeding everyone out.

Her:
I understand. I also relate.

She:
And so, here I am , been there, done that and at the end of it, all I want is to belong. All I want is stability. I resist change.

I need roots. I want to trace back my steps. Back to my island.

A cosy home, a fire going, wine, music. A few friends. Good friends. Quality, not quantity. People I really want to know, not just hang out with.
Food being cooked, music playing, conversations, laughter, a herb garden, sitting out in the sun, reading. Simple stuff. Real stuff. No glam,no glitter, no fluff.

Her:
I get that. Completely.

She:
Is it just us? Is it age? Is it depression? It feels like the end?

Her:
It's us. And some more. Not everyone, though.

It's age. And the wisdom that comes with it.

It's definitely not depression. In fact, it's therapy.

And no, my dear, this is not the end. It's just the beginning.

What can I say? Welcome to the club.

Sadness

Such a powerful emotion!

Shandy passed away n her sleep last night. God bless her little soul. At least she didn't have to suffer pain. At least mom, dad didn't have to put her down.
Shandy- the last of our dacshunds.

Me. Not in a very good place today. I feel confused today. About where I am, what I am doing here, who I have become, who I want to be. About love, life, spouse, kids, friends, home, happiness, sadness, joy and all that.

But then , this too shall pass. Or shall it?

No more!

My previous post was , I think, the most honest post ever!All it said was crap! and I did want to write some more, but because of Gia getting fussy and moving around in my arms, somehow I hit the Publish Post button and therin was my blog.

But seriously, on some days,that's what it is! Crap.

And I don't want the crap. Call me spoilt....but seriously, no crap. Only good stuff.

Crap!Q

It's all coming together.

Someow, through the chaos, through the endless packing and purging, it's all coming together. Tommorow, they come and stage the place. And the first part is done.

Somewhow, it always gets done. Of course, there's no other option but to get it done.

The dream

And what a dream. Significant in so many ways. Telling in so many others. Empowering. Teaching.
First, it was the color. Black. I was wearing all black. A color I associate with confidence. A color that always empowers me. Makes me feel more confident than I actually am feeling.

I was standing on some sort of a very narrow bridge. Not even a bridge , more a narrow cemented long platform. Narrow, very narrow. Dangerously so.

And then there was the deep dark abyss below. A very frightening abyss of which I was terrified. Petrified, actually.

Petrified of the height I was at. Petrified that I would fall, even if I let out a single breath. That a single movement, even so slight, would plunge me downwards.

And so I was standing there absolutely paralyzed.

I called out for help. And no one heard me. And all I could hear was snoring.

And for a minute I felt that this was the end. I would fall.

And then , suddenly, the energy. I saw it in the physical sense, at first. In my body. In my muscles that were so taut, so toned, so powerful. The muscles in my abdominal core and in my arms. And then I felt the energy in the mental sense. In my mind telling me that this was not the end. That this was too soon to be the end. That I could get out of this. Easily and on my own.

And from the state of being too scared of even breathing, I lifted my arms upwards, grabbed the surface above me and in one great surge of muscular power, hoisted myself up. And lifted myself over the abyss. To safe ground.

And the rush, the adrenalin rush, man, that felt good. It was what I needed.

It is what I need.

Ok Missy, snap out of it!

Get your big girl underwear on and deal with it.

Change. And then some more.

2008 has been about transitions. Major transistions. And here I am in, on Sept 10, 2008 finding myself at the brink of yet another one.
We are thinking of selling the condo. And as exciting as it may be, from a financial point of view, it is going to be a major change. And an even more major amount of work. Setting up the condo for viewing. Putting away stuff. Thinking of where to move. Packing. Unpacking. Moving out. Moving in. School districts. Neighborhoods.
And in between all that, two kids. The Franchise investment. Taxes. US properties.
I am feeling so overwhelmed right now. My mind does not even want to think of all this. And yet there is no option but to think of all this.
Because this is life. Had I thought, at 23, life would be all this. NO. Big NO.
And yet, at 34, it is what it is right now. And the only way I make any sense of it to myself, is that it is all going to work out and work out for the best. Am I merely trying to convince myself, I don't know. All I know is that by thinking this, I get through it. And that is what I need to do right now. Get through this.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm the mind. Clear the thoughts. And get on with it.
Maybe 2009 will be the year. Then again, maybe not.
All I know is for now, 2008 is what I need to tackle. Starting tomorrow.
Let the change begin. Yet again.

Ahh..cinema.

Sitting down to watch "All the Kings Men".

Her and me

As I write this, she is sitting on my lap, balanced between my arms. She is making those jerky movements with her arms that 3 month old babies make. And constantly cooing and drooling. She is wearing an orange onesie and dotted blue and beige pyjamas. She is smelling of Calendula oil which I massaged her with an hour ago. Her hair has grown.

Me. I am wearing my black lululemon yoga pants. Because they are the only things that will comfortably fit my post pregnancy body. A black nursing T-shirt. Nursing , as in it has these flaps you can conveniently lift when you have to nurse. My hair is dripping, since I just had a shower. The shower that followed my half an hour of swimming and sauna. My hair has grown too.

Gia and me. We are slowly, but surely getting used to each other. She knows me now. My face, that is. I am getting to know her every day. Her soul.

I call her girlfriend, and whenever I go, "hey, girlfriend", she instantly smiles and her face lights up.

She is that. My friend. My daughter. My little Gia.

And what a billiant end. She just pooped. And I must go change her diaper.

Black

I like black. There is something so "out there" about black. Something so raw and then something so honest in it's rawness. It's bloody honest.

To me , wearing black just feels right. It does not feel like I am trying hard. Oh no, it just settles in. Cloaks me with an easy comort and yet exudes so much energy at the same time. It's so peaceful and then so powerful . So strong. So, there.

Just feels so right. Like an armour. Solid as hell. Bring it on kind of solid as hell. The perfect defense mechanism. A camoflage. Maybe, a mask.

It lends me the energy that I sometimes lack. Gives me the confidence that I am not sure I have. Makes me stronger. Feels like a signature.

It's definitly a friend and now, more than ever I feel very close to the color. It has come in and gone out of my life very frequently. But this time, it's back and I know it is here to stay. Because I want it to.

Let there be music

Music makes me happy. It takes me away.

It lifts my soul, gets me through the day, especially through the mundane parts of the day.

I am rediscovering it.

For a few hours. Or all day. Dido. Or Anwar. Rhythm. Or lyrics. Country. Or trance.

So, let the music begin.

A lazy drunken ABBA weekend

Kept Rohan home on Friday. It's nice to give hin the break from school sometime. Took him and Gia to the ROM. Gia slept through it. Rohan had a good time. I survived. So all was good. I had the cocktails to go to later in the evening- thing from Rohan's school- getting together to say goodbye to Lara's mom, since they were leaving for Norway on the weekend. Gia gave Rajesh a hard time. Refused the bottle, kept waking up, cried. Fed her when I cam back and she wa fine then. Then we watched Hancock. The only bit worth watching was how good Charlize Theron looked. rest was crap. What were you thinking, Will Smith?
Saturday, Lazy day. Syaen, Yvette Alyssa came overfor dinner. Beef curry and aloo parathas from Little India. Lots of Cosmopolitan. Lots of drunkeness. Listened to music I had downloaded befire. Dido. ABBA. Talked. More cosmopolitan. Kids made a huge mess. Everyone had a good time. Wound up late. Very late.
Sunday. Woke up at noon. Lazy for a few hours. Then cleaned up. Felt good about it . Have been not doing the whole Sunday cleaning thing . Lit agarbattis, house smelled clean. Rajesh and me talked. Then, Yevette and me went to watch Mama Mia. Across the street. Carlton Cinemas. Fantastic movie. An even more fantastic Meryl Streep. And the music made me want to dance. The mother daughter sequence - touching!

Strike One

Cooked in the morning. Biryani (which turned out a bit mushy, yet delicious). Channa dal (for tommorow). Mailed Rohan's SIN card application. Uploaded cottaging trip pics to Picasa. Sorted some pics in Picasa while Gia slept. Spoke to Ruhi. Laughed till tears rolled. ( Best friends kinda laughter) Walked with Gia in stroller to her doctor's appointment. She got her first shot. I got my check up done - Pap and all that. Also got the refferal for the dermatologist- the pesky wart's time has come. Walked back. Small Iced Cappucino. Stroll around Winner's. Now home.
Not bad for one day.

Score

Life: 1
Self: 0

Working on flipping that over.

Conversations with women on a rooftop under a starry sky

last night , I went for a Breathe and Release Session hosted by Teji. Dragged my feet initially after a hectic evening with the kids, but finally went. At 10 pm. Cabbed it to Bloor street. Up the elevator to the 2nd floor. Apt 204. It was a nice night .

Bunch of women. Introductions. Conversations. Roti. Aloo ki sabji. Lots of dessert. A joint. more conversations.

Then an elevator ride to the rooftop. About brown shoes with blue stripes. Very striking. more when you are baked. From Payless. $20. Now, how cool is that! About Canadian winter. About how it's coming and that summer was so transient.

Stars. There were lots of stars. The city sky was clear. As if , just for that occasion. Almost knowing that a bunch of women would come up to the rooftop and look up at the stars.

Breathe and release. Seems like a new chapter.

Here and now.

Here and now is what it is. This is the time. Or else it could be too late.