Well, yes. I watch Hindi soaps and its a number I can distinctly count on my fingers - 2. At my defense, these 2 soaps are pretty good, you must check it out sometime, its not a mother-in-law vs daughter-in-law saga, etc. So, I'm warning the men about this post - this is not going to be a techno-analysis or a sports update, you might want to take my advice and steer clear off it. In case of matters of curiosity, read on.
The soap I am talking about is called Mahi way and you could find a link for the page here. (Sony entertainment television may as well pay me for this). OK, Mahi, Big fan. I simply love this girl's persona - plump, smart, happy outlook, bold (but not brazen), super frank, clumsy and lovable. Not getting down to the nitty-gritty of the plot, its about this Girl, who's a confused 25 year old seeking stability and sanity, but doesn't want to let go of the craziness in her life. This show gives me a Television's grown up feeling and i can't wait for the late night screening of this show on Tuesdays.
Well, the point I'm making here is about the connection that I (and probably other 20 something women) have to this show. This girl, Mahi, makes me think. She's frank, you know, so frank that sometimes she ends up in situations where she probably curses herself endlessly soon after. This makes me go "me tooooooooooo! Damn I said that to him", more often than not. Yes, its mostly always a him. Actually I believe in the "What if there's no tomorrow" concept. Its this constant fear that I should actually go and tell someone something in case something drastic happens. Like- him moving away, not wanting to talk to me ever in his frigging life, trampling all over my feelings without having a clue, thinking I don't care when i actually do, thinking i care too much when i actually don't, misunderstanding etc (melodramatic?). This probably looks like a psycho impulsive persons thing, but trust me its not.
The point is I always want to set the record straight. Simple lines, and my complex interpretations.
You're cute (and you really need to know that but i'm not looking for anything more).
Coffee? (we can be really good friends, pretty please don't misunderstand this!)
Do you think we should meet sometime, would you come? (we need to sort confusion, and get back to being good friends)
We're good friends. (I really mean that, really!)
Menfolk, on the other hand are expert complicators. Everything, must be complicated, misunderstood and mismanaged. Situations must not be handled. This post is not about them though, hence i move on.
Back to the soap. The normal Mahi, almost married this Rich, hot, amazingly perfect guy (calling him Hotness) last night, and suddenly realised, at the mantap, that -> "Dude, you're perfect, for everyone else. I need more than just being a wife to someone like you". Aaannddd she leaves, saying "ktnxbye". I was cheering, and doing a mental wooohooo!! (Argentina was smashing Greece on channel 66 btw, not that i care). The dawn of realization and escape to freedom was, ummm inspriring. The least she could do was figure things out, for herself and for Hotness.
Overall, I think this was a very slick, well made show. Hotness was very hot. Best friend was also very hot, saw shades of my goofy best friend -male (guess who, quick?) in him. The dilemma's faced, the complexities of having crushes, well handled. Sadly, I think the show's wound up. Dammit!
Note to menfolk - ignore, or learn.
Note to women - love, check this out.
Note to crush - I'm harmless.
Note to Milind Soman - I love you.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Everyone loves Hair(y) Man
This is my "Heavy-Heart" post. Heavy-hearted because I see this to be the beginning of an ending. An ending which is inevitable, an ending which all of us come to terms with and an ending which we work around anyway. We should, considering, 'thats what friends are for' (some wise people say). The reason for my heavy heart, reader, is because this friend of mine is going away, probably forever (who knows?).
I'm going to call this friend, 'Hairman', and I'll leave you to put a face... err.. hair to this name. Hairman came into my life probably in class 9, from this other cool locality in Bangalore and as luck (good) turns out, lived pretty close to my place. Was I a nasty friend or what, I conspired among many and made a really silly poem about Hairman to which he retorted, with another silly poem. His silly poem was a slap-on-the-face for my fellow conspiree(is there a word like this?). Then, Respect.
Hairman and I, bonded in class 11 (if my memory hasn't failed me), over walks back home and cycle rides (yes, he saved me once when my brakes were jammed). He always had something funny to say. If teased, at any point, he'd brush it away with the wave of a hand and a smile, which gets you assuming some more. To this day, 6 years later, the same wave of the hand is the general technique used. Still effective.
The mighty sport that Hairman was, he'd never say no to much, be it dancing, playing, urgent chaat requests, which naturally made him the most popular person in school (seniors, juniors, teachers, bahadur, dil bahadur, etc). He was pretty popular at home too, he was my after-the-dark-walk-home-with-Hairman person. Such is Hairman, that meeting him once would be enough to strike you with "attributes" like trust, respect, admiration, warmth, humor, etc.
Another incident of the recent past, which really strikes me is one where Hairman called me on my birthday. I'd had very disturbing pre-birthday events and was pretty heartbroken in another city. Hairman's early morning call, the attentive listening to my ranting, the extraordinary jokes that were cracked about the situation, the 'It happens, let it go', made my heart feel lighter (momentarily at the least).. left me wanting to crack some crazier jokes about me. A well kept secret is that, along the way, I've learnt to laugh at myself from Hairman.
Well, the years have passed and I've become really close to Hairman. So much to learn from him, so much to look forward to if he's around. The hairstyles have changed as frequently as spring turns into summer. The Hair has been rockstar-long, barely-there, bald, growing-back-messy, messy-enough-for-an-interview, unkempt. As we pass through the unkempt phase, Hairman's all set to go and seek greener pasture (verrrrrrrrrrry green pasture) and I've been feeling this mixed emotion - Sadly-excited. An oxymoron alright, sadly so because he's going away and i presume will take many years to return to home turf. Excited because this is the best thing that could happen to Hairman.
This too shall pass, with a little help from my friends.
I'm going to call this friend, 'Hairman', and I'll leave you to put a face... err.. hair to this name. Hairman came into my life probably in class 9, from this other cool locality in Bangalore and as luck (good) turns out, lived pretty close to my place. Was I a nasty friend or what, I conspired among many and made a really silly poem about Hairman to which he retorted, with another silly poem. His silly poem was a slap-on-the-face for my fellow conspiree(is there a word like this?). Then, Respect.
Hairman and I, bonded in class 11 (if my memory hasn't failed me), over walks back home and cycle rides (yes, he saved me once when my brakes were jammed). He always had something funny to say. If teased, at any point, he'd brush it away with the wave of a hand and a smile, which gets you assuming some more. To this day, 6 years later, the same wave of the hand is the general technique used. Still effective.
The mighty sport that Hairman was, he'd never say no to much, be it dancing, playing, urgent chaat requests, which naturally made him the most popular person in school (seniors, juniors, teachers, bahadur, dil bahadur, etc). He was pretty popular at home too, he was my after-the-dark-walk-home-with-Hairman person. Such is Hairman, that meeting him once would be enough to strike you with "attributes" like trust, respect, admiration, warmth, humor, etc.
Another incident of the recent past, which really strikes me is one where Hairman called me on my birthday. I'd had very disturbing pre-birthday events and was pretty heartbroken in another city. Hairman's early morning call, the attentive listening to my ranting, the extraordinary jokes that were cracked about the situation, the 'It happens, let it go', made my heart feel lighter (momentarily at the least).. left me wanting to crack some crazier jokes about me. A well kept secret is that, along the way, I've learnt to laugh at myself from Hairman.
Well, the years have passed and I've become really close to Hairman. So much to learn from him, so much to look forward to if he's around. The hairstyles have changed as frequently as spring turns into summer. The Hair has been rockstar-long, barely-there, bald, growing-back-messy, messy-enough-for-an-interview, unkempt. As we pass through the unkempt phase, Hairman's all set to go and seek greener pasture (verrrrrrrrrrry green pasture) and I've been feeling this mixed emotion - Sadly-excited. An oxymoron alright, sadly so because he's going away and i presume will take many years to return to home turf. Excited because this is the best thing that could happen to Hairman.
This too shall pass, with a little help from my friends.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Shoe-String...
Thin (or a few mm more in diameter), usually black or white, ends tightly wound up with tape, thats where i carry my emotions - On a Shoe-String. Not that I have in-depth knowledge of women and their pysche, I'd say, most women do.
I presume that this phrase was created by some egoistic man, who'd probably want to lace a womans emotions into his shoes. Picture this in black & white - A tall, slick, well built, masculine man with a thin moustache {as thin as a Shoe-String, again} and hair Gelled back into a tiny ponytail; a rather thin, sickly woman in a long dress weeping helplessly in a corner. Well, I'm sure the origin does not matter much, but the essence of him wanting to overpower her and her emotions does.
Sometimes, I convince myself that the shoestring is an inappropriate object to place your emotions on. I end up doing it anyway, as hard as i try not to. If you dissect a Shoe-String you'd probably find 5 thinner strings wound and woven together(There is a possibility that there are more, but those are the complex sort and I'm not going there). I presume, that for a woman these stand for - Love, Trust, Envy, Ambition and Warmth (this is MY list, feel free to add on). This is one awesome combination, take my word for it.
It might take some time for a man to actually unravel the Shoe-String. Both ends are so tightly wound up with tape. Ever wondered why, when the tape on the ends come off, you try so hard to tape it back together before lacing your shoes, and its never the same? The tape always comes undone. I gather that this is symbolic in a weird way.
I carry my heart on a Shoe-String,
Baby, I'd give it to you,
If only you'd make my heart Sing,
Would you give me yours too?
(That was an original composition, pretty darn good i think ;) )
Anyway, I hope that my Shoe-string is given to someone who'd love and respect it with all of his heart. In return, I'd gladly accept his football, mp3 player, Ipod, Ipad, iTouch, basketball or whatever he cares to keep it safe on.
Sigh, romantic post. Comes as part of the weather in Bangalore, I think.
I presume that this phrase was created by some egoistic man, who'd probably want to lace a womans emotions into his shoes. Picture this in black & white - A tall, slick, well built, masculine man with a thin moustache {as thin as a Shoe-String, again} and hair Gelled back into a tiny ponytail; a rather thin, sickly woman in a long dress weeping helplessly in a corner. Well, I'm sure the origin does not matter much, but the essence of him wanting to overpower her and her emotions does.
Sometimes, I convince myself that the shoestring is an inappropriate object to place your emotions on. I end up doing it anyway, as hard as i try not to. If you dissect a Shoe-String you'd probably find 5 thinner strings wound and woven together(There is a possibility that there are more, but those are the complex sort and I'm not going there). I presume, that for a woman these stand for - Love, Trust, Envy, Ambition and Warmth (this is MY list, feel free to add on). This is one awesome combination, take my word for it.
It might take some time for a man to actually unravel the Shoe-String. Both ends are so tightly wound up with tape. Ever wondered why, when the tape on the ends come off, you try so hard to tape it back together before lacing your shoes, and its never the same? The tape always comes undone. I gather that this is symbolic in a weird way.
I carry my heart on a Shoe-String,
Baby, I'd give it to you,
If only you'd make my heart Sing,
Would you give me yours too?
(That was an original composition, pretty darn good i think ;) )
Anyway, I hope that my Shoe-string is given to someone who'd love and respect it with all of his heart. In return, I'd gladly accept his football, mp3 player, Ipod, Ipad, iTouch, basketball or whatever he cares to keep it safe on.
Sigh, romantic post. Comes as part of the weather in Bangalore, I think.
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