Tagged ! Six crazy things while watching movie:)

OK! Thanks to Karthik, I have been tagged with this contagious bug. The bug wants me to confess about 6 crazy things I do while watching or going for a movie. I hardly watch movies other than animation but still…and without my knowledge these bugs are tagging Senorita, Sawan and Scattered Thoughts! Guys, This is a crazy bug – it makes you confess here in your personal blog and beware of the virtual gods…if you lie, you will be severely punished, so say the gods!! . Senorita, you will be locked up in a dungeon and Himesh Reshamiya will be your partner singing in infinite loop ! As for me, I do want to go for a date with George Clooney, so here goes…and yes, for the guys its Catherine Zeta Jones!

1) Take my own refreshments – See, I’m a good girl, I listen to my mom. She says not to eat ‘’outside’ food, so I don’t buy anything during the intervals. I carry my own refreshment – a few chocolate bars! See, these are slim, long and can be easily hidden at the bottom of my purse. The ‘chota’ packs can be kept inside the zip pouch or inside jeans pockets! Yey! I clearly remember an incident that would have ‘happened’ before the movie ‘Hari Puttar’, if not for my innocent nieces. Me and my two little nieces, with 3 packs of big 5-star Munch and 3 packs of small Bar One and Perk filled in my jeans pocket, one in little Dia’s frock pocket, one camouflaged under a handkerchief in my purse, one inside the zip pouch! I stood in front of the lady security, unzipped my purse, lifted my hands in the air and challenged her. She smirked, signaled me to take my purse and let us go! My knees finally stopped shaking and I was able to pass through the metal detector. I suspect it was the nieces who are well versed in giving the innocent look or that the lady was kind enough to not deprive us of some chocolate! Next time, I swear I will not let my pockets bulge!

2) Popcorn pellets – See, I’m not a movie person. I hardly remember the story or the sequence in the story except for a few funny jabs and chaps. I’m very restless during any movie except animation! I keep changing my position. I hate popcorn but eat it if I have to. So, once me and my crazy friend Jas, started throwing popcorn at people in the front! Now they were all guys, when they looked behind angrily, we gave them our big ‘Cibaca’ smile. Cibaca smile is the one which shows all 32. These guys were amused and forgot all about the movie. I think that was the debut movie of Arshad Warsi – Naseeb Apne Apne..but again I’m not sure! Later, when the movie got over, we didn’t leave the hall until they had left. They did wait quite some time for us to come but soon realized that our ‘popcorn-throwing’ was the effect of the movie alone and had nothing to do with them! That was the last time I ever bought popcorn!

3) Forced Curiosity/Imagination – Yeah, I never go through the trailer or read any review before going to the cinema. If by chance, I happen to hear particularly bad reviews, I program my mind to convert the bad into good. It works for me! I also realized that it works the best when it is Hrithik Roshan. No movie can be rated with one or half star which has my heartthrob, can it? This habit may not be categorized as crazy after all. It’s the most sensible thing to do when the hero overshadows the storyline, the cinematography, the score or the dialogues. I always imagine myself opposite Hrithik. The whole movie watching becomes therapeutic and I’m healed at least temporarily from love sickness or ‘Imaginary Boyfriend Syndrome (IBS)’. I confess, I imagined myself dancing with Hrithik drenching in the rain in the movie ‘Koi mil gaya’ in my little pink skirt! Idhar chala..main udhar chala..jaane kahan main…kidhar chala….areeyy pisal gaya…..

4) After the movie ? This may not be so abnormal after all. I usually make my plans for the evening or for life during movies. It’s something about the ambience, I say! After being fed on so many of reels of ‘never-gonna-happen’ events, I get inspired to work on real events for which the probability is always greater than 0. It also helps the mind in the logical reasoning box. If so and so can happen in the movie, chances of it happening in real life is always 0 and vice versa! In fact, a friend and me had quite a heated discussion regarding survival strategies and the avoidable or unavoidable situations for using the F word….during the movie ‘The Sixth Sense’! Manoj must have made this awesome movie in an unusual style, but the pace it went at, I could almost see my nails growing!

5) Lip sync dialogues – I love doing this especially for the villains and it usually is so predictable that it comes out beautifully! ‘Kutthe kameene …main tera khoon pee jaunga…’ or ‘Kal moohi, kahan muh kala kar ke a gayi…’. Now, sometimes we also put in our own funny dialogues into a serious situation, much to the amusement of the folks sitting nearby! Sadly, I cant remember any right now. Also, I have this crazy habit of letting my ears catch neighboring dialogues. In case of a funny one meant in double entendre, I force my brains to not process it and respond with my mouth for fear of getting caught! But I did get caught big time during the movie ‘Dilwane Dulhaniya Le Jayenge’. It was during the song ‘Main tere saamne…’, relating to some bathroom joke for Kajol!

6) Short course in Fashion/ Interior Design – A cinema is the best platform for a short course in fashion design or interior design. Don’t you think? Irrespective of whether the hero’s character in the movie is of a poor guy, the hero will most definitely break into a song-and-dance sequence in designer clothes in the most coolest interiors or exteriors possible. The roadside tapori in torn, faded jeans will be shown in designer trousers in a designer office et al. I remember a scene in Vaastav, in which Sanjay Dutt, an encounter specialist and his prostitute girlfriend – Namrata Shirodkar are transformed into two decent lovebirds…all complete with his suit and her saree singing away to glory in ‘phoren’! I usually note down the latest pattern in salwar kameezes and accessories to match for shoes!

Hope, I win my date….

Thank you, God!

Hello God,

If you happen to stumble upon this post, an event for which I believe the probability is 0.00000000009999 since its titled and labelled with you, so that means you ‘will stumble upon’ my post, I want to let you know quite a few things. Not that I fear you or expect any favors for entry to heaven, but nevertheless, you need to know what Vin really thought about you and thinks about you, albeit you seldom do much in keeping with her wishes. Still…

Let me refresh your memory, in case you rely on such human tools. I belong to a wonderful set of ‘family’, for starters we are a group of ‘self-styled combat warriors’, the only pinch is of the uniquely distinct styles each one of us possess. So, lets not talk about how the family chariot moves on with all the wheels pointing in the ten directions, so anchored as a rock, just as you! So, now you know who I am. Lets proceed further..

When I was little, my mom said ‘God is watching all our actions and will punish us for our lies’. I thought ‘Let me not take a chance… I never lied’. Meantime, all my elder siblings lied and went scott-free from mom’s cane, whereas me would be decorated with long red bumps. I wondered then, ‘Why is God not punishing them?’. Gradually, the questions increased, every time i joined my hands in prayer at the small temple at home, I saw an image of you smiling away to glory. I didnt know it then, the reason for your smile, but maybe now I do! Nevertheless, I trusted you and prayed to you and begged you for a new set of crayons, a new drawing book, a new story book, a new dress, a new shoe… more quality time with my ‘ever so busy’ dad! But, you only smiled! Some answer to a little toddler’s prayer!

The toddler grew up, the prayers continued but you only smiled! I prayed, i stuggled, i worked hard to make both ends meet, while you were smiling your glorious smile! They say ‘God alone knows’, so maybe you do know, when exactly i stopped praying or rather my style of praying. Maybe, you felt bad, because you stopped smiling at the temple. But, you know what, I had begun to worship people. They were the ones running this ‘loka’, they were the real heroes, each one of them striving towards achieving their desires, while joining forces to achieve collective desires. We, the people were running the show!

But with two elder brothers living the spiritual life and me living the ‘doubtful’ life, a debate was inevitable. I was lectured about your cosmic laws and stuff. I failed miserably in the debate followed with the toughest questions, ‘Why are the successful people, always the ones who believe in themselves, believe in the power within?’, ‘Why some things never shape the way you want?’, ‘Why some street urchins go on to become major contributors to society?, etc, etc. You must have heard it in my home, if you had happened to tune in, what with my entire neighbourhood tuned in! Then, I realised who is the real hero..who is the script writer… who is the pupeteer..who is calling all the shots ??? Then I realised why you only smiled your glorious smile.

So, here I am at your doorstep, with hands joined humbly, Please forgive me, God. I will never stop praying again. I have a lot to thank for, yes, i really do. You saved me from evil, you carried me through my disbelief, you tolerated my anger, you even sent me friends who did the same! You opened a door when all others were shut on me. You are a tough coach but now i know why! So, Thank you, God and trust me there’s no sarcasm here!

Yours Gratefully,



upon the grass i tread, as alone as the sun
fresh hues of green paint the countryside
and little drops of glittering wet diamonds
tease my naked feet, chill the fire within

specks of dust shining through the rays,
as guards protecting the celestial gates
the horror, the hurt, the throbbing pain
how do i beg thee for a wee bit of grace!

deep within were enflamed buried desires,
long lost and forgotten in mindless pursuit
i look more closely for signs of content,
but the carcasses lay, scattered eerily all over!

envious no more of the calm without
nameless, faceless pangs of guilt and doubt
i watch in silence, fearing to intrude
my conscience is eroded, self misconstrued!

A sincere appeal

Dear Editor,

Sir, I wish to introduce myself as a ‘Common Mumbaikar’, who after years of indifference has become numb to the vagaries of a Mumbai Life! The recent massacre has led me to believe that I am indeed ‘Impotent’. I wonder whether I have a right to celebrate on Jan 26! This letter to you is a desperate appeal to help me and the one billion Indians that are feeling equally miserable.

Where was I when some people, we label as ‘terrorists’, killed my brothers and raped my sisters? Why couldn’t I hear the horrified screams of their orphaned children? Well, Sir, as I’ve already mentioned that I stay in Mumbai, which is so ‘very far’ from these rotten things, you know the places where these rotten things are a norm- Kashmir, Assam, Orissa..and sometimes Delhi, Bengalooru, Hyderabad…So I thought ‘What have I got to do?’, I have enough screams to hear and enough orphans to deal with here in Mumbai itself! Every now and then, there is a bomb blast and the system breaks down; the authorities go into hiding and inevitably the courageous Hero would be the ‘Common Man’.

Well, Sir, I have brought the ‘Common Man’ intentionally here. As a reader of your esteemed newspaper ‘The Times of India’, I am a die-hard fan of your daily strip ‘You said it’ by the greatest ever cartoon illustrator: ‘R K Laxman’. It so correctly depicts the Common Man as a silent spectator of the system. In the cartoonist’s own words, the Common Man symbolises the mute millions of India, or perhaps the whole world, a silent spectator of marching time! He represents the hopes, aspirations, troubles and perhaps even foibles of the average Indian. I gather you know what I’m coming to.

My problem with you is this: Just as the Common Man, Sir, your newspaper too stands as a mute spectator all these years! Whenever a system crashes down, your esteemed newspaper would be the ‘first’ to bring us the ‘esteemed news’. And then in the race to be the ‘first’ to bring the next big news, Sir, you forget the burning past. I agree, Sir that you are the highest English language newspaper and in your own words, ‘very liberal’. But, it has occurred to me lately that you represent the masses. You are considered as the ‘Fourth Estate’ not for a rhyme, but for a reason. You, Sir should be publishing the ‘voices of us, commoners’. You should personify the woes of every Indian not just in a cartoon. You should take the lead in asking the ‘Why’s?’ from all our leaders, irrespective of which party they belong to or which party you support.

Our nation, no doubt invariably follows a pseudo-democracy. Where is the ‘For the people’ part? Why it so happens that, after the people are chosen by the people, the ‘chosen people’ easily transform into ‘politicians’. Forgive me, Sir, but ‘politics’ isn’t about managing any more, it has become a ‘murky thing’, and all this while you, the Fourth Estate just looks on…refuses to act. With all the powers that make you what you are, you should be the one to bell the cat. Yes, Mr. Editor, the time has come for you to actually put into practice, your sole purpose of starting this esteemed newspaper.

We Indians need to start a revolution now with an apt war cry. And so, we need you to voice this war cry. For if we don’t start now, there won’t be any Indians left! And then I wonder Sir, who would read your ‘esteemed newspaper’! Is this asking for too much?

Yours Sincerely,

Unnamed, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder

Vin was the most brightest star in this side of the hemisphere and an apostle of the innocents, until the bugs got her. The bugs of the ‘Untitled, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder’. One may ask ‘What? Who? Where? How?’. All answers lie ahead…Read at your own risk!

The seeds were sown in kindergarten itself. Tiny, innocent toddlers like me were taught to associate new words with similar stuff to aid memory. Little vin enjoyed this game, little did she know that the seeds were germinating!! Every new word had a little relative. One fine day, vin was no more a toddler..she had blossomed! Now, can one blame her for what occured after that, she associated ‘interesting’ words, of course to aid her memory, alas now these memories wont fade soon…Associations should be technically based on sound, color, feel, smell but here they were usually baseless, illogical, totally irrelevant ones. Some are her own associations while some of them have been transmitted unawares. Nevertheless, she struggles with these growing collectibles and posting them ensures a light wink in her eye. So, here goes…

All teenagers dread this emotionally depressing monster, I did too. I’m talking about ‘pimples’, Only my germs associated it somehow with ‘nipples’, dont ask me why. The germs have multiplied and now only associate in one lane. Side effects include utter disgust at all ‘pimple reduction/control/removal’ creams. One horrible incident: a guy asked for solution for his pimples, I eagerly said ‘Just have a lot of cooling stuff, your nipples would disappear!’
I wished to disappear…

A dear friend is always ‘associating’ the word ‘prosecuted’ with ‘prostituted’. No logic, right? Wrong, the germs know better. These germs are ‘gems’ in illogical, embarassing link-ups. All boards with ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’ becomes ‘Trespassers will be prostituted!’, whatever that means. Holy Christ, I will never trespass! This dear friend has associated another gem. A question like ‘What are the pros and cons of this method?’ becomes a story about prostitutes and conmen!! He sure loves our munni bai’s and munshiji’s from bollywood.

Another dear friend, this time a ‘she’, has compelled me to forgo one of my favorite musicians – Kenny G. Not her fault though, its her vernacular tongue.Our most popular, beloved three-lettered word ‘sex’ becomes ‘sax’. When I listened to Kenny G, I usually imagined him with his ‘Saxophone’ in his mouth, but after that it only looks like an instrument of ‘Sex’!
The germs are in their most active state.

Once I saw a very beautiful painting of two pigeons. Only later I realised to my horror, that the beautiful painting was actually a topless woman!! The germs are busy at work. All mentions of pigeons in prose, poetry, peace talks, images of them carrying twigs and paintings especially make me sore. The topless woman scares me! Am sure the germs are winking now.

All sutra ending words associate automatically with the ‘Kamasutra’, the germs know better. I wonder how i’ll ever wear the Mangal Sutra.

Kohinoor Continental is not just a ‘Gem’ of a hotel in my area, its rather an embarassing one. Even while taking an auto, I have to tell the poor chap ‘Kohinoor Continental Hotel jaana hain‘, lest he take me elsewhere. The germs have etched the kohinoor ads with permanent marker. That chap might be innocent, but my germs arent na!

And, did I say this is an extremely contagious disorder? The malfunctioning germs from the writers cranium immediately transmit themselves onto the readers cranium via brain waves during the process of reading. This survival strategy ensures healthy (read embarassment-causing), more effective and treatment-resistant progeny.

Congratulations, you’ve caught the bug too!!

P.S: Now that I’ve infected you, I better compensate with my beauty tip from the kitchen.

B for Besan: Besan is the hindi equivalent for chickpea flour. If the fallout of a sunny day at the beach is an unwanted tan, fret not! All you have to do is mix besan, a few drops of lemon juice and curds. Apply it to your face and other tanned parts of your body. Leave it on till it dries and rinse of with cool water. Repeat this procedure for 10 days.
Oh, BTW….Besan is dead effective against pimples!

Good Bye!

Just two simple words, yet how difficult to say!

I dedicate this post to a very ‘special’ friend of mine.
‘Special’ not because he made me feel like an ‘Angel’, but rather I saw my dark side, the side which I never acknowledged, the side which I thought was a non-existing entity sticking on to me, the side which I preferred to see only in others, the side which I believed only others had !

He was my partner-in-crime. Of course, the criminal was me but he would never reveal it to anyone, making the crime so much more fun and the criminal more happy!

He was the priest at the confession counter! He would listen to my confessions without judging me. Hmmm, if only we all were like that!

He was my confidant, yes, I could tell him the most heinous crimes I have committed, am committing right now and plan to commit soon. I would even ask him suggestions for crime improvement!

He was my dustbin, always received the heaps of rubbish I would throw like a gift! This dustbin never complained!

He was my tear-sponge! He would just soak up all the waterworks and lighten me by a few tons at least. Hehehe

He had a great sense of colour, who else could tolerate my F-sprinkled lingo!
He made me ‘love’ myself; see myself through a more kinder heart and a less critical eye!

He made me ‘believe’ in myself, made the ‘blooming’ for real…unleashed the infinite within myself, helped me break ‘fear’ and realize my true potential.

So dear ‘Special’ friend, thank you for crossing my path and enriching it forever! With promises, the beautiful lessons learnt and always being aware of the dark in me, I move on. The Show Must Go On!
As all good things come to an end.. here comes the moment of truth… with loads of best wishes and brushing off a happy tear….Good Bye!

Another encounter …

The only constant in my life these days are the ‘encounters’ I’m having. Though infrequent, they happen nonetheless. And the sad thing is that, I have no control whatsoever! All hell breaks loose, once the horoscope results are positive. A date would be fixed for the ‘encounter’’. Not any date but a ‘good’ date based on “auspicious-ness” of the date.

In an ideal world, I should be delighted with this ‘encounter’; our horoscope match was a record 32.5 points ! Surely, the heavens had scripted our union, only this union would bring the much required marital bliss and whatnot… But, even the heavens weren’t aware, even the heavens didn’t know what I was to know on that late Sunday evening.

This guy was at the meeting place earlier than the schedule and immediately called me to say “yey !! me first me first” not in the same words though but it meant the same whatsoever. I reached at sharp 7, one look at him and I was sure the heavens have committed a grave crime; what were they thinking? For starters, he had blood shot eyes, enough to scare the angelic, innocent eyes I had! Fear crept in; somehow I knew the evening wouldn’t be a pleasant one. Let us give him a name. Let’s say ‘Mr. Red eyes’! So, this Mr. Red eyes does the ‘man thing’, he leads me to an eatery and after much jostling and compromising, we get a shared seat! Yes, the AC room was there; nearly empty, so cool, so inviting but Mr. Red eyes had other plans.

The mental questionnaire was shot at me rhythmically and systematically irrespective of whether I had finished answering the previous one or not, but who’s listening anyways! My answers would test our compatibility, just to confirm with the 32.5 the heavens had fixed. Quite pleased with the first two lines of any answer, he would shoot the next question at once. Time Management. I say!

The last thing I remember is getting a seat near the kitchen, me sweating like a pig and answering queries about horoscope, love and expectations.. Coming to expectations, when Mr. Red eyes realized that my mouth was all dry and thirsty, he called for the waiter. I thought ‘OK, he’s human after all!” I asked for a chilled sprite, which fortunately wasn’t available, so I wondered what else would quench me, but before that Mr. Red eyes ordered for 2 hot coffees. Hmmm, expectations sure got fulfilled!

The next thing I remember is coming back to my smarts. All the while he talked about himself in a strange manner, something superior reeked out of him. I knew one thing for sure. I will repay him somehow and with interest. After listening keenly, I realized that he was proud by virtue of being born as ‘Brahmin’. The devil in me awakened at once. I knew how to repay!

I told him all kinds of stories about Brahmins and how stupid they can really get sometimes. he he he… that set him up, all fire’n’smoke in the cockpit (pun intended). All you people do is eat smelly fish and other creatures, you have never learnt, analyzed or documented any holy scripture; nor will you be able to do so with your brick-heads. We come directly from the Aryan race, Tamil (his language) was developed from Sanskrit and is the mother of all Dravidian languages and so on and so forth…(By the way, aren’t the Aryans and Dravidians two separate races?)

Anyways, who cared? Triumphant as I was at that time, I realized his chattering about himself ceased and he began to look at me with curiosity. I’m sure he was wondering how can the heavens choose a lowly Dravidian woman with a Big Mouth for a princely Aryan man who is god’s gift to any woman!

Well, after that I had the time of my life. I said the coffee was really good, the ambience was just amazing and how grateful I was that we met here and so on and so forth…He was glaring all the time!

So that was it. Another of these encounters over! I wonder how many marks did I score in the questionnaire after all that gyaan on the races! Mr. Red eyes didn’t call back. Thank Heavens for that!

These cheeple are so peep!

Oh, Its serfectly pimple!
No, that’s not a new type of pimple. Well, that’s something which occurs at randomly, uneventful moments turning an otherwise boring event into a ‘funny’ one, one that is meant to be cherished forever. And, all one wanted to say was ‘Oh, Its perfectly simple!’, but ends up like this!

I am a regular at this, I mean the germs in my brain are precision perfect in this. Deep down in my heart, I’m constantly bribing Him for freedom: Oh God, please redeem me. If not completely, at least during interviews and other such discussions in life of the ‘serious’ types.

One such event occurred during an exciting ‘gossip’ session. We were seriously gossiping on the new entrants into our society. I, the smart Aleca, had to come up with my opinions although nobody had asked for it. These new entrants were particularly loud, both in their talks as well as in their home with loud music being played for a happy, peaceful existence. I thought ‘These people are so cheap”, but ended up saying ‘These cheeple are so peep” ! Well, that was the end of all serious gossiping, the audience there rolled with laughter and still remind me of it even after so many years.

Well, I also mix up Hindi and English since most Mumbaiites are used to thinking in Hindi and speaking in English. But, what happens when one particular Mumbaiite, lets say me: thinks in English while speaking in Hindi? Imagine the scene: the topic was something that had occurred and none of us could believe it, saving me. I knew it had occurred. I was adamant and emphasized my point: all I wanted to say was ‘Koi shaq hain kya?” but me, the smart Aleca replaced the Hindi ‘shaq’ with its English equivalent ‘doubt’ and created this whole new sentence: “Koi duck hain kya?” !! I didn’t replace, the germs in my brains did!

And if this wasn’t enough, I do such things with numbers too: 25 becomes 52 and you would ask how? It rotates and replaces positions, much like musical chairs! Hmmm, another disorder, syndrome, crazy mind germs or what. I ‘googled’ as usual.
Google is my rescue center; my friend, philosopher and guide. And hey, lo n behold, there you go; I learnt of the term ‘spoonerism’ named after Reverend William Archibald Spooner (1844–1930), Warden of New College, Oxford. He was notoriously famous for them! Good for me, there are many of ‘my’ types and this guy pledged his name to the cause – wow, an altogether new ‘ism’ !

Some of his famous quotes:
“Is the bean dizzy?” (“dean busy”)
“Go and shake a tower” (“take a shower”)
The Lord is a shoving leopard” (“loving shepherd”)

This ones my favorite: “You have hissed all my mystery lectures, and were caught fighting a liar in the quad. Having tasted two worms, you will leave by the next town drain” (“missed … history,” “lighting a fire,” “wasted two terms,” “down train”)

The Indians that we are, the country with 178 languages, not my stats; that’s what Sushmita Sen said while introducing our country of so many languages; we think in our mother tongue, speak in the local language or dialect of the particular city but write always in English. Surely, each one of us has been a Mr. Spooner or Ms. Spooner at some time or the other. Yeah? Let’s admit it… Look at me, the last two years at Chennai and already I have started mixing up my native ‘Tulu’ with ‘Tamil’ forming two new languages namely: ‘Tumil’ and ‘Talu’!

Now is the time… lets share our personal spooners. A particular boss of mine… lets not name him here…even thinking about him tickles me! He refers to our client ‘Ramona Pires’ always as ‘Pomano Rires’! Hope they never meet in person, but if they do, I better not be there!

He will never redeem us and why should He, its tax-free entertainment na! Some “tips of the slung” are good for everyone!

Manzile apni jagah hain….raasthe apni jagah and GPS !

And whoever had penned these beautiful lyrics to be sung by our evergreen Kishore for our evergreen Big B, surely was a victim of the ‘oh so familiar’ disorder, I too, am a victim of. And before one starts guessing as to what I’m referring to…no, its nothing to do even remotely with that ‘heart’ thing!

I have suffered in silence for the past fifteen years or so, that is since the time I had to travel on my own. Finally, I’m coming out in public, here on my first post. Read on…

I googled the term as ‘directional disorder’ wishing from the deepest pits of my heart that I don’t find even a single entry…. Alas!

There were lakhs of entries, links with concise descriptions of the medical jargon types! I mean… I just had a slight doubt and surely didn’t believe it at all, that such a term truly exists. So, that does it! I always feared this: I do suffer from some kinda syndrome…..only my parents were too busy in my childhood to catch it and take me to the correct specialist. To my utter shock, guess what, there were discussion forums where ‘real’ people with names and email IDs discussed about this disorder, took solace in the fellow sufferer’s plight, provided tips for unguided travel, offered healing words of comfort. Slowly, I came to my senses. I knew at once, yes, this is my world… here are others just like me. I belong here!

This is my Family, here’s where all my ‘so-called’ excuses will be understood as ‘real’ reasons for me losing my way all the time! Now I have the exact medical term too to add to my list of excuses !! I was glad I googled. I thanked Google.com for helping me find my ‘true’ family.

Take simple instructions like… take the first left, second right and there you go, your destination is right at the corner, lady! I would nod with gratitude and immediately draw a picture of a road (raastha) with a left turn and later two right turns and my destination (manzil) at the corner. The single, lonely woman traveler is in control… she is not going to lose her way this time…. Alas!

She not only lost her way, she lost it completely since she ie. me was trying to visit my best friend I have visited a million times before…. A few rescue calls later, I was picked up from the place where I was supposed to anchor myself as a reference point for the rescue teams , lest I lose my way again!

Then again, I wont be allowed to travel alone…. Me and be escorted, oh come on… every woman needs to travel alone at times and me, a woman of this world, a smart woman of substance, obviously needed to travel alone. Here, one may think of the adage ‘If you believe you can, then you will’. Only, me, the die-hard believer, the smart Alecca thought that if I believed too hard, I could easily fool the germs in my brain that erased the directional picture map I drew so diligently every time I was given instructions. I was about to prove my point.

Take even simpler instructions like…. take the coming left and keep walking with your eye towards the right…. Stop when you see a bunch of kids coming…. So we know there’s a school nearby.. ask one of the kids where’s the school. That’s all… the lane (raastha) opposite to the back of that school is where you need to go (manzil) ! don’t get confused… there’s also an old tree there. I nodded in chaos, the directional map I usually drew in my brain got null and void, no work here for the germs! As if all the trees are young except for this one.

I mean… talking about trees, I use these gentle creatures as my reference points now. OK, I turn left when I pass the big Gulmohar tree and keep walking till I pass these four, old trees with tiny, yellowish flowers (don’t know the name) and at the end I will pass a Peepul tree, but wait… I’m not supposed to cross it, I have to take the left that comes before it ! One may wonder, what does this smart Alecca do on her way back…. Simple, she does the same things in reverse !

At times, most trees in an area would be the same species or genre or family. But, me the innovative, die-hard, do-it-yourself-and-prove-to-the-world woman found new avenues for guidance. Hoardings, Billboards, Signboards were the new trees for me. Don’t cut down trees… I mean they are good for the health of my city and please don’t stop putting huge Billboards in my city….I mean they are good for the economy. When ‘Philips’ goes like ‘Lets make things better’, I know they mean this! Things can’t get any better than that. Look at me, I’m on my way without a single soul harassed enough to keep tracking my progress. Whoever needed GPS… yes definitely when I’m in the Antarctic region with no trees and Signboards, then GPS or Global Positioning System would guide me. hmmmm…

One may now contemplate the depths of the creative lyricist…. See what I said when I started …the raastha-manzil divide in the brains of the ‘directionally disillusioned’ !