Waiting for your favourable reply…

[Warning: Read at your own risk]

Hi dear, good morning,  go through my profile once again & decide or pass this message to those who really need my help. i have just started my journey in the titanic ship as dassan and looking eagerly for rose to share everything whatever i have with me till reach my destination. In the ship i like to do romance, like to help her and support her fully. waiting for a chance, whoever she may be, i  dont know, expecting the luck of getting good and nice girl or women as a normal human being. it is not a friendship in the ship and also not necessary to make friendship but it is beyond the friendship level because sharing love and affection with a girl has totally different meaning, it has more value forever. it is not neccessary to get marriage. Marriage is just a approval ceremony to link male and female only. friendship is different, making love & affection is different, marriage is different. i am in second catagory. come, we will enjoy. see my face and talk, leave me if u dont like. give me a chance to go with you.reply me. dont be silent, be frank, nothing to fear,it is not a very un-usual thing, the way just to be happy in safe manner, waiting for your favorable reply, thanks. no compulsion, it is upto your own wish and decision”.

The above letter is unedited, unadulterated  version from a certain ‘Mister Peri Vendhan’. Just copy-pasted here as is, else it would lose its very essence of existence; its very reason to be. And hell no, I haven’t made it up. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. This one is a gem of a proposal.

A while back, I had received this email proposal; I would have given it a pass had it not been bombarding my inbox every two days, like an incessant banging on my door. When I couldn’t take the banging [pun intended], I risked a read and am still recuperating. The after-effects of a catastrophe may take time to fade off, but not considering Mr. Vendhan‘s kind offer of help will leave one immortally wounded in the heart.

I have considered His Highness’s kind offer of help and am carefully evaluating his way ‘just to be happy in safe manner.’ Here is my reply to you, kind Sir, hope you do not mind the open letter format I’ve chosen to respond to your offer, I gathered there are other nice girls or women who could do with your generous offer of help and support.

Dear Mister Vendhan,

Kind Sir, May I please have the honour and privilege of addressing your Highness as Dassan of my Titanic, only for the purpose of this open letter? Dearest Dassan of my Titanic, I am deeply touched by your deep efforts to search for your Rose, with whom you wish to ‘share everything whatever you have with you till you reach your destination’. You know, the Titanic was doomed – it never reached its destination.

But, I understand your idea of destination is more inclined towards a romantic kind, you certainly do not plan to travel any place with your Rose.

You mentioned about what you intend to do in the ship: your idea of romance, help and full support for Rose is an exhilarating one. Any nice girl or woman would jump to that, but I sank, I’m unable to fathom the depths of your love for Rose. You say that ‘it is not a friendship in the ship, it is beyond’. You say that ‘sharing love and affection with a girl has totally different meaning.’ I think that was deep. And the Titanic sank real deep… oops!

I am a lowly nincompoop, what to do! I fail to comprehend the meaning of ‘totally different meaning.‘ All I know is that boy meets girl, falls in love, they get married and live happily ever after. But, in your story, I fail to see a ‘happily ever after.’ Will Dassan fall off the raft so his Rose could live? You know you seriously need to watch that movie.

So Dearest Dassan of my Titanic, I went through your profile a thousand times over, and like you so desired, I decided to pass this message to those who really need your help. I sincerely apologize from the depths of my heart for rejecting your kind proposal. Although there is no compulsion as you state, it is upto my own wish and decision ‘to see your face and talk, leave you if I don’t like’, I am deeply sorry for not giving you a chance. Believe me, I too wish ‘to be happy in safe manner.’

And, I do understand your point about there being ‘nothing to fear,it is not a very un-usual thing, the way just to be happy in safe manner’. Trust me, I am not scared at all to sail this ship with you, dearest Dassan of my Titanic. The issue is me: I just can’t see myself as your Rose. Who am I and what have I ever done to deserve you, your kind heart, your generous love and affection? 

I’m deeply sorry once again for dashing your hopes ‘of getting good and nice girl or women as a normal human being.‘ I am a nice girl. I am normal too but just not privileged enough to set sail with you, dearest Dassan of my Titanic. Perhaps your Rose is blooming somewhere, some place as she reads this offer coming from the depths of your heart. I wonder how she will express her wish to sail with you.

Anyways, good luck to you Mister Peri Vendhan, I hope and pray that you two are united soon. Hoping this is a favorable reply.

Happy Sailing!

oldfox 004

Maid 2.0

Uborka-2

My bai woes are unending. This year we shifted our home-office to a new place in the same locality, an extra room with an additional balcony meant more space between the Mister and me. Life had become so peaceful that I almost began to worry, remember the Universe’s first law of Happiness – “This too shall pass”. Now picturise a happy sun saying this to you.

Little did I know that my inner peace would be ruffled soon by the new maid. Her name means ‘Poetry’ and just like they say, “There is magic in poetry”, there was magic in her, or rather her work. Dust vanished into thin air, as she walked into every room. Things sorted themselves as if by divine reconfiguration. The Mister and me lived like the King and the Queen in their squeaky clean apartment…until.

She came. She saw. She conquered.

The day we set foot in our house after all the packing and the moving and then the unpacking, we saw a quaint figure watching us from a distance. The next day, a lady deliberately crossed paths with the Mister and ordered him to employ her as our maid. He placed the ball in my court. She came to me the next day and pleaded for the job.

Maids and me have always been in an abusive relationship. They set the rules and I quietly abide by them. Do read “Maid in India” and “My maid and her newfound efficiency” for an accurate context.

The new home ushered new hopes, so I decided to let go of past trauma. I told her to come from the next week, but she started that very day. She sweeped and she mopped, then she mopped some more and left me a happy soul.

Days went by and just as the Mister and me were getting newly accustomed to our clean home, and hassle-free maid, things took an ugly turn.

It started with her reporting time that swayed anywhere from pre-breakfast to lunch-making time. Some days she came even before I could open my eyes fully. When I complained, “It’s too early”, she’d say, “I have to go out.”

Some days she comes in when I’m preparing lunch and offers no explanation whatsoever. When it turned into a daily habit, I asked her, of course in a feeble voice, as to what is the matter in her life. Is she going through some mid-life crisis? Does she need a break?

She said, “I got more houses to clean now.” I kept mum.

Then came the holidays. One time she went on a vacation for ten days, of which only four were informed ones. I didn’t dare to ask her this time!

Dust can be neither cleaned nor be destroyed, but it transfers from one place to another.

Dust is transferred from one place to another, just like the law of conservation of energy that states – Energy can be neither created nor be destroyed, but it transforms from one form to another. The dust law applies to all maids.

My house is as much clean as it is dusty!

This month, she has set a new rule, well two actually – one we cannot ‘not be present’ at home whenever she comes, and second, we need to inform her in advance if we will ‘not be present’ at home whenever she comes.

The Mister booked Sunday tickets for ‘Mad Max Fury Road’ on a Saturday evening. I had to have them cancelled, as we hadn’t taken requisite permission from The Maid.

Life has come a full circle when it comes to maids. It’s almost poetic. She says she has a very tiny child (this is a new story) who acts as per his whims and fancies (look who’s talking).

I have almost given up in my hunt for the perfect maid. They say, “Life is finding love in the imperfections” and it is true. We don’t look eye to eye anymore, and I don’t dare occupy the bathroom…whenever she comes.

Image credit: Vectors 4 all

My maid helped me rediscover my passion for life

Time and again I get questioned on why I don’t blog here more frequently. That’s like asking my maid why she turns up at my place so few times of the year. It’s just that she has a ton of household chores to deal with in her home already. Like I have a ton of posts to write about at the Lighthouse blog – the blog we run from our home-office. So no big deal really. But, all this was in the past. It’s a new story altogether. Read on…

Yesterday I had this uncanny feeling that she is watching over me, smiling away to herself. Why am I day dreaming about her, you ask? That is because she has gifted me with her “indefinite absenteeism”, ever since the morning of my birthday last month. It was a crazy working Friday and I was looking forward to her making it to my house, so we (the Mister & me) could enjoy a clean home at least for the one special day that comes once a year.

goodbyeAlas she dashed our hopes! This despite saving more than a quarter piece from the Monginis Swiss chocolate cake for her. This despite wishing for her to visit us when I blew upon my birthday candles. This despite praying from the bottom of my heart.

In fact, she dashed our hopes the day after that and the day after that day too. She seems to have taken an oath to never visit us forever. I still await the day I catch a glimpse of her somewhere – you know I owe her 3 days of last month’s pay, if we were to ignore the 100 days she hasn’t turned up in the last year.

Somehow, she must have stumbled upon these blog posts I write about her. The first signs started showing right after I described my encounter with an assortment of maids and finally ending up with the best of the lot in ‘Maid in India’. Soon after I had complained about her frequent absenteeism, of course in my blog, she started showing up more frequently until she reported every single day. This I described in my blog post ‘My maid and her newfound efficiency’. But, alas she has chosen to desert me.

And maybe it is for good.

Now my weekends are more clogged with the laundry, the basin and sink, the floors, the bathroom, the cooking range, my weekly head champi, along with my lost-and-found love for art and crafts. Yes, the entire time I had all these weekends, I never did a thing except stare at beautiful and incredible pieces of artwork I explored on the internet. But, now after my maid has abandoned me, I have finally re-discovered my sole purpose for living – my passion for the arts. I have been busy in the weekends doing some kind of art, and of course the house chores.

There’s a silver lining at the end of dark clouds, they say. For me, it has been my maid’s uninformed disappearance for close to two months now. And I hope it remains that way.

Image credit: Photobucket/Vicki Berson

My maid and her newfound efficiency

indian-maidMy bai has stopped giving me the cold shoulder. Ever since I wrote this post called “Maid in India” describing how we (the Mister & me) are the hostages in this employment contract, she has been acting strangely. The first quarter of this year is round the corner and I still haven’t been able to figure out why.

I am scared, very scared to write this post; I have an uncanny feeling she knows about this blog therapy I follow. Perhaps through some extra sensory perception, she knows what I think about her.

In fact, she demanded a raise right after the post, leaving me feeling quite stupid for having written that. Anyways, we had to concede to her demands if we wanted peace at home and some cleanliness if you may!

But lately I’ve been noticing a peculiar work ethos in my maid. She has transformed into an efficient worker since the two weeks of March. I fear a massive uprising is on the cards soon…but no!

For starters, the utensils are squeaky clean and you can see your face in it. Seen the vessels in the VIM washing bar ad, which the brand new daughter-in-law is brandishing away at her sceptical mother-in-law? My maid is washing the vessels like that, can you beat that?

The deep bottomed kadai might not come out squeaky clean, but there is no trace of any oil on it, not even on the handles, like it used to be before. Spoons, ladles, the butter knife, every little thing is washed both sides. There was a time when the holding side had traces of what I had cooked earlier. Now, I don’t feel like cooking in these vessels anymore, why dirty them again?!

Earlier, there used to be a puddle of water on the platform where she dumped all the vessels. Now it is dry and vessels are placed intelligently so that all sides of the vessel dry up faster. She should be awarded a ‘Kaizen’ for finally bringing up a continuous improvement approach to her work!

She isn’t stopping at that. The kitchen sink is brushed hard at all the edges too. Washing the sink was never in her to-do list. All she did was merely pour tons of water on all sides and let drain it on its own. She even gave me a big surprise two days back. She washed up the cooking range squeaky clean, without me telling her to do it, which is the case usually. As a matter of fact, I remember a time until a month ago where I was begging her to do it.

To add to this, my home is immaculately clean. The floors are swept with a vengeance like never before. She mops away in a beautiful rhythmic pattern; replace the mop and water with a paintbrush and colours, this would create a masterpiece for keeps.

She was a good worker, she came with neighbour recommendation a year ago. That was the time, when a few maids had taken us on a royal ride. My next door neighbour suggested this lady, and added that she works in and around a few homes in the same wing. This lady, however, took too many leaves without informing us. One time her daughter was sick, the other time her brother was on a visit to her place, and at other times she would even get rashes!

Now she hasn’t skipped a single day except for one day, the next day she looked frail but happy to report to work.

Her soaring performance deserves a ‘best performance’ award, her efficiency is a welcome change, her full attendance is inspirational, but I’m breaking my head to know why. A few days ago, I’ve been seeing new maids at the homes she used to work at. Maybe there is a clue there. I would be more than happy to write a new post with all the masala!

Image courtesy: Times Crest

Maid in India

I can’t do without her. Nor can we live in harmony. She knows the place she holds in my life. And she uses it to her benefit. So when this noble lady tells me, “Pocha kal” I obey at once with a respectful nod.

Today she reports nearly three hours later than her scheduled time, but I say nothing because being present on the job is an even bigger quality than punctuality, isn’t it? She is reporting after 50 hours, which is fine because little breaks from work helps keep her mind fresh and active. Besides, it gives me and the mister a chance to do some house chores as a break from our very humdrum life of blogging.

indian-home-maid-servant-naukrani-funny-cartoon

Last December, right after my back injury, I knew I couldn’t avoid this anymore. To give up washing our utensils, to give up on sweeping and mopping our one-bedroom home office, to give up on my freedom to do whatever I want with my home was something very tough for me. We had shifted home just a couple of months back and hired the maid who claimed to be the most ‘in demand’ in our housing society. We had no choice but to believe her and depute her. Soon after the transfer of power, a familiar feeling began to overpower us.

Our endeavour to keep our home clean had failed again. This maid hardly turned up. And God forbid, if she ever did turn up, she also made sure to leave within ten minutes. So quick and efficient was she, that all the utensils self-washed themselves, all the dust vanished from the floors before they got magically moped with glassfuls of Lizol. It took me a week to decode her modus operandi.

She transferred dirt to nooks and crannies that are invisible to the human eye. Though, these were visible to the pests that lived with us and often laughed at our ignorance. How I got rid of the pests is an altogether different story that needs to be told as well. Living in rented homes teaches you a lot about human behaviour, I tell you!

I had questioned this lady holding in my palm a portion of evidence although it was ‘dirty’ – dust, hair, a few pulses, some shedded skin too I guess. She was deeply hurt that someone could question her integrity like this. She left at once and promised to never come again. She came the next day to collect her salary for the days she deceived us though.

So 2013 began with this new maid who came with recommendations from the neighbours. This time I got smarter to not rely on self- proclamations. She takes her time at the kitchen sink. Then she carefully sweeps away dust (hair and all) from all nooks and crannies too. Then she mops the floor with a corkful of Lizol and leaves a fragrant home for the two of us.

But, she hardly reports to work.

Sometimes, her daughter is sick or at times she takes a week-long sojourn to her native land. That way she prefers to keep away from the dim of city life and rejuvenate through all the greenery in the countryside.

She works at nearly seven homes everyday, thus earning our empathy. So when she does report to work, she finds herself with more than a day’s dirt to wash, sweep or mop. She made sure it wasn’t too hard on her. So the invariable response was ‘Pocha kal’ which meant ‘mopping tomorrow as today there is too much work load’. Also, ‘you guys don’t seem to mind not having a squeaky clean floor anyways’!

Every thing including her absenteeism was going fine up until I saw her leaving a neighbour’s home after finishing their chores, and leaving on the sly. And, she has been doing this for the whole of this year, right under our nose!

Out of the 350 days she took salary for, she must have reported for only 280 as every month sees her sickness, her daughter’s sickness, or her wish to take a breath of fresh air from her countryside.

She is a good worker who knows her value and her employers very well. This November, I gifted her a saree along with Diwali bonus, although me and the mister did all the pre-festive deep cleaning. She was apprehensive in taking it then. Unlike other maids who rejoice over getting gifts over Diwali, or blackmail into getting them, she seemed a tad bit guilty. Her uninformed absence for the next 11 days gave me the answer.

Well, this is my maid. My very own ‘Maid in India!’ I am hoping you have your very own maid stories to share too 🙂

Deep down we are all a little selfish but…

It was a good half an hour past 9 pm yesterday. Our table was all set after an adventurous bike journey to the far end of Pune. While we waited patiently for our rather sumptuous dinner, I decided the time was just right to pop up a question that was bugging me ever since the Mister had interviewed a food blogger.

Every time the Mister had talked about the passionate Bengali blogger’s story and his constant struggle to maintain a delicious food blog along with a demanding day job, he had also made a passing reference to his Parsi wife being a foodie. The reference that came again and again felt like a constant jab to my wifely duties. Was the Mister making an indirect hint? Was he trying to tell me that his not being a food blogger despite being a foodie has got anything to do with me?

I confess I am not a foodie. I did mention this on our very first telephone call itself. He said food was not at all a vital factor for a successful marriage. I had given up non-veg (read eating animals) many years ago. He said it is perfectly ok with him. But, today after a year of being engaged and 2 years of being married, I was being rebuked for not being a foodie and a non-veggie at that!

stock-vector-vector-cartoon-of-man-and-woman-having-romantic-dinner-103838444

So how would it be if you had married a non-veg foodie just like you?” I asked the Mister while we waited for our dinner at Tawaah!, a restaurant located at the wee end of Sus  Road in Pune. Tawaah! specialises in North Indian cuisine with luscious chicken and lamb delicacies. The instant reaction was of amazement at my logical reasoning. He had quickly realised where this question was coming from.

The first round of piping hot chicken gravy arrived with lachcha parathas for the two of us.

I began serving myself anxiously waiting for his response. The gravy also called ‘tandoori murg tikka masala’ looked and smelt the same as the others that go by the name ‘tandoori murg makkhani‘, ‘tandoori murg handi‘ and other tandoori chicken and mutton dishes. But, these are in fact very very different like distant cousins or like chalk and cheese if you may. Only a diehard foodie can make it out. For me it was just a spicy gravy that I could finish my lachcha parathas with!

He had decided to buy time so he could think artfully before giving a ‘politically correct’ answer. So, while the Mister continued with serving himself, carefully taking the right proportion of gravy and chicken pieces and a portion of the onion-cabbage-carrot combo gratings, I became a little impatient. As always, he then squeezed the quarter lemon that accompanies such dishes though I do not understand the significance. Does the citric acid add to the flavour of the chicken? I always use the lemon quarters to wash off my greasy fingers 😛

The Mister realised that he had bought an enormous amount of time, so it was now soon approaching the Moment of Truth. Noticing the rising impatience in me, he took a deep breath just before he blurted out that many a times he did think about it – “How would my life be if I had married a crazy non-veggie like me? Both of us would be on the lookout for a foodie adventure every weekend and married life would be so much foodie…err fun. But then what if she did not like to read or take my tantrums or worse still watch those dreaded TV soaps?!”

I was already feeling better 🙂

After weighing the pros and cons of having a non-veg foodie wife, the Mister had realised that my con (read being a non-foodie) carried no weight when compared to her one pro (read being a non-veg foodie) and my multiple pros – only I can handle his extreme mood swings, temper tantrums, pamper demands and above all eating animals for him!

And, we had dinner in contented silence, not the one associated with unasked queries. The ‘mutton kheema pulao‘ became tolerable. Perhaps, we are a little selfish deep down but there is something called ‘love’ that makes us behave better.

Keeping up with the Dhorkandes!

The Dhorkandes were my ex-landlord plus neighbours, and as with all ex’s, I find it impossible to forget them. Its been a peaceful two months in our new rented flat but the Dhorkande nightmare still does not cease to haunt me.

Once our LIC agent had come home visiting for his duty-bound premium collections. It was around ten-ish on a Monday. While in deep discussion about some insurance plans with the agent, I did not realise that the door hadn’t been locked. All of a sudden Lady Dhorkande just kicked open the door and barged into our living room. Her face fell ten inches to the ground, when she didn’t see what she had imagined.

I thought she would get epileptic any moment then.

The lady has an extra-sensory power of imagination, fuelled by her 24×7 watch outside her verandah and windows. Seeing a young and dashing man visit me on a weekday, especially at the time when my man has left for work, erupted the best of the wildest crap from her head. She was so certain to catch us live in action that she didn’t bother to ring the bell or give it a second thought before stomping right in.

And to top it, she was at her un-satsangly best – electrocuted hair, clumsily-clad saree, barefoot, clutching a piece of clothing in her hand. I assume she was folding this piece while at the verandah when the golden idea struck her.

My man hadn’t left for office till then. He leaves a good half an hour later but her window-watching schedule went wrong on that fateful day. The agent, my husband and me were into serious analysis about annuities, better yielding retirement plans and most importantly whether we have the means to invest in a plan now. When Lady Dhorkande kicked in like Inspector Dhoble on a raid mission, all three of us looked up, shocked, amused and slightly annoyed.

True to the Dhorkandes’ she did not apologise. I asked her if anything’s wrong but she couldn’t utter a single word with that open mouth. In fact, it was so wide open that she could swallow a hippopotamus if she were hungry. Highly dejected at not seeing a twosome, she eventually blabbered something inane, before leaving. That could have also been Inspector Dhoble leaving saddened from a massage parlour raid, while carrying a huge lump in his throat because he couldn’t save the rotting world.

But what about the lump in the brain? Lady Dhorkande has two children and three grand children, sadly she has transferred or would be transferring this lump into them. I have more about the Dhorkandes but let’s park them for some other day.

10 Lies about me :)

1)I am very cautious and therefore often appear shy and reserved to others. I share my rich emotional life and my passionate convictions with very few people. I have a pronounced inner system of values and clear, honourable principles for which I am willing to sacrifice a great deal.2) I am always at great pains to improve the world. I can be very considerate towards others and do a lot to support them and stand up for them.

3)I am interested in my fellow beings, attentive and generous towards them. Once my enthusiasm for an issue or person is aroused, I can become a tireless fighter.

4)For me, practical things are not really so important. I only busy myself with mundane everyday demands when absolutely necessary. My motto is “the genius controls the chaos”.

5)I am less interested in details; I prefer to look at something as a whole. This means that I still have a good overview even when things start to become hectic. However, as a result, it can occasionally happen that I overlook something important.

6)As I am very peace-loving, I tend not to openly show my dissatisfaction or annoyance but to bottle it up. Assertiveness is not one of my strong points; I hate conflicts and competition.

7)I prefer to motivate others with my amicable and enthusiastic nature. Whoever has me as boss will never have to complain about not being given enough praise!

8)The feelings of others are important to me and I love making other people happy. I am satisfied with just a small circle of friends; my need for social contact is not very marked as I also need a lot of time to myself.

9) Superfluous small talk is not my thing. If one wishes to be friends with me or have a relationship with me, one would have to share their world of thought and be willing to participate in profound discussions. If you manage that you will be rewarded with an exceptionally intensive, rich partnership.

10)I do not fall in love head over heels but when I do fall in love I want this to be a great, eternal love.

Do check out what personality type are you at  http://www.ipersonic.com/ Have fun and do share yours too!

What do women of substance feel about Holi?

Once upon a time, oldfox004 was on a secret mission but as usual she forgot her way and ended up meeting prominent women and also got a chance to interview them on their feelings for Holi. So here goes…

Rakhi Sawant – Oh Jessus! i loves the Holi, the rangs, the water, the innocent masti…this Holi tho i love to color my bhaiyya Mikka…he’s so sweet na *does the kuchi-kuchi action

Veena Mallik – Holi? What Holi? Filhaal tho all the mulla’s are labelling me ‘unholi’. But, i love Ash in a very ‘holi’ way, kasam se! *sends a flying kiss

Shweta Thiwari – Arre yaar! I gotta wear a burqa this holi 🙁 If Raja sees me all red and wet…??? I don’t like all this skinshow and all…what will my daughter say?  But, its all OK on TV, no? *kisses her daughter

Payal Rohatgi – I hate Monica, she is so fake yaar! Rahul is like my brother only. I don’t like to play Holi…all that gulaal will spoil my skin na…tho phir kya dikhaungi main? I bet Monica is playing secret holi with him…$^%^&*$ *smirks

Dolly Bhindra – HOLI…HOLI….HOLI…HOLI….$%#&*%^$….HOLI KI THO….%$^(*^&*#$…nobody plays Holi with me 🙁 *makes a horrendously scary face…i disappear in seconds

Yana Gupta – But, you know i love color….and especially colorful undies….shocking pink, neon yellow, electric blue…wow! What ? You asking me about Holi? Oh! I’m so forgetful na…I even forget to wear my colorful undy sometimes..*winks

Ekta Kapoor – Holi? Did you just say Holi? Can you see the big tikha on my forehead? I celebrate Holi with all my staff all year round…we use real blood, sacchi! *poker faced

Sonia Gandhi – Hamara Bharath mahaan desh hain…yahan Diwali, Christmas, Eid ithyadi sabhi thyohaar manaya jaatha hain…Hum sabko ‘Haath’ milakar rang lagana chahiye. ‘Haath’ ne sab ka ‘Man-moh’ liya hain. Bharath Mata ki Jai! Happy Holi! *waves her hand high in the air to no one in particular

Jyothi (Common girl) – Holi is nice holi-day for me. I’ll do a nice oil champi and put some multani mitthi on my face. Mum will make yummy puran poli’s. I’ll take to office tomorrow:) *shakes delightfully

Rani (Street girl) – Hamare liye tho roj Holi hain madam..kabhie yeh mard log idhar color lagathe tho kabhie udhar…bole tho ..koi ijjath hi nahi madam…upar se complain karo tho police log bhi…#$^$%^%$ saala! *deadpan

Disclaimer: All names have been changed in order to protect their ‘Real’ identities. Please don’t be alarmed if you find any resemblance to anybody whom you have happened to hear about even remotely. Happy Holi, guys!

Vinphy’s Date Laws:

1. Prior to the special date, a mountain of a pimple will erupt overnight.

2. A certain well-wisher will fix blind dates for you on your bad-hair days only.

3. The only dress that fit correctly will be in the laundry just before a ‘sudden date’.

4. Your mother will wash that one best-fit, never-washed jean on the day of your ‘first impression date’.

5. If your date is a secret one, you will most definitely meet your curious neighboring aunty at the neighboring table.

6. Your date will almost always arrive after you have escorted a blind old man/woman to the other side of the road and returned to the meeting spot.

7. The more expensive your date dress, the more the chances of something spilling on it.

8. Dandruff comes along with the black dress.

9. Your date will almost always be shorter than you, the one time you wear that extra high, special stilettos.

10. High hopes on your old battered car is of no use; it will run smoothly on that special long drive.

P.S: Please share if you have more and I’m sure you guys have loads to share 🙂