Sunday, June 23, 2013

What woud I like to do?

I would like to rip some books into two and shred their pages into bits with my fingers.

I would like intentionally run my bike handles against the side of pristine painted cars.

I would like to take some cermaic mugs and glasses and fling them against a wall and watch them break into small fragments.

I would like to pull the hair and scratch the faces of some people I don't like.

I would like to throw my phone across the room.

I would like yell at the top of my voice.

I would like to say cruel and spiteful things to some people and make them cry.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Fate Versus Destiny

I was probably eleven or maybe twelve years old, when I asked a beloved English teacher,"Miss, what is difference between fate and destiny"?


I remember her, looking at me thoughtfully, tapping a chalk against her lips, recollecting a distant memory.

She then told me,"Deepti, I heard this somewhere and I repeat it to you. I hope you do understand it".

"Fate is the canvas gifted to an artist. Destiny is what the he chooses to paint on it".

I thought I understood it well.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Countdown to wishing me a Happy Birthday!

Do you remember the euphoria of celebrating your birthdays as a child? I still feel it as an adult.

I've always been a 'birthday paithyam'. From when I can remember, I've been crazy about my own. I would always start a countdown a month before my birthday getting all excited on how I would celebrate it. When I was young and such a brat, there used to be a rule at home. On my birthday no one was allowed to yell at me - no matter what I did do. License to do as I please!

As I sadly, despairingly,bemoaningly near the last of my 20s birthday, I want to cheer myself up by listing out my favourite birthday gifts.


1. My Barbie Doll - What do I say?I cried, I begged, I demanded. He refused, he sighed and then he capitulated. My dad's 5th Birthday gift to me. Her demise? A hilarious story by itself, that I shall recount some day.

2. Phantom Sweet Cigarettes - On numerous birthdays - my brother's gift to me. Should this have been an hint to the reckless adult I have become?

3. A pretty pink  princess frock - I always longed to own a pretty pink frilly frock and be a princess.Preferably,Cinderella. Surprising, considering the tomboy that I always was. On my 8th Birthday, my maternal grandparents gifted me one which I wore to school with deep satisfaction. That day evening, a couple of boys in my class offered to bury me neck deep in sand as a birthday gift. I was ecstatic and leapt into the hole feet first. Well, what do I say? When I did get out, my no more pretty, brown and black, torn frock had to be buried away-albeit permanently. Sigh, princess ambitions? Me? Really?

4. Pride and Prejudice - A deep sigh of pleasure here. For my 15th Birthday, sick of seeing me eternally borrowing the Pride and Prejudice from our school library, Megs & Bhav gifted me my own copy. My library teacher relieved to know that other students of our school could have the opportunity to read Jane Austen had the book plastic wrapped for me as her gift. Wow.I think this figures as one of the top 3 best ever gifts I have received.

5. Poornima Aunty & Sweet Sixteen- On my 16th Birthday,the skies wept and I didn't carry an umbrella to school. My drenched birthday frock caught against a nail and tore,and my best friends' forgot that it was my birthday. I, in the typical Deepti style, sulked and ignored them all day, despite repeat apologies. Come evening, Ashu's mother calls me up and says, "Deepti, I'm sorry that my daughter forgot your birthday.Let me celebrate yours". She treats the 4 of us to Avengers and dinner with a cake. Eternally grateful to you, Aunty.

6. My classy Titan watch - Since the last 10 years, I have been using the same watch. A gift from Perima, Peripa and my sister for my 18th Birthday.

7. A library card - The bestest gift I have ever received in my life!When I was 12 or 13, my dad cancelled our membership to the local lending library after i lost three books. For my 18th Birthday, my dad gifted me my very own card to our local lending library. It was white,glossy and had my name printed on it. Wow, I really do have a dad who knows his daughter amazingly well.

8. The 5th Avenue Burger - I was in Hyderabad for my exam study leaves on my 20th Birthday. While my aunt pestered me asking,"Shall I make chola batura or vethai kozhambu or  pulav for your birthday", her mother in law, my athai patti, a madisaru wearing 80 odd year old grandma, shoves a 50 Rupee note in my hand and smiles and tell me, "Kanna, onnaku antha burger naa romba pudikkumae, vangiko, en birthday gift onnaku". Awwwww.

9. My book cupboard - Sick and tired of seeing my books strewn around the house and bursting at the seams of my clothes cupoard, my dad had a book cupboard built for me to keep all my books for my 28th Birthday.What do I say but awesome?

Well the countdown to the last of the 20s begins now. Here's to hoping that I survive the two day long meetings with the bosses in Mumbai and my flight reaches Bangalore in time to celebrate my birthday with dear friends.

P.S. I think, just to make me happy, I'm going to celebrate my next five birthdays as my 29th Birthday.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Catch a Falling Star...


Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starless night
And just in case you feel you want to hold her
You'll have a pocketful of starlight

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starless night
And just in case you feel you want to hold her
You'll have a pocketful of starlight
Pocketful of starlight
Pocketful of starlight

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

For when your troubles start multiplyin' and they just might
It's easy to forget them without tryin'
With just a pocketful of starlight
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

Save it for a rainy day
Save it for a rainy day
Save it for a rainy day
Save it for a rainy day

It's really hard to choose which version is the best.


    Perry Como

 Jane Morgan's reminds me of Judy Garland and that entire era of marvellous musicals..Meet me in St Louis, Seven Wives for Seven brothers, Wizard of Oz... Nina Wall's voice is so husky and alluring... Perry Como's version wants me to tap my feet and click my fingers.. Hmmm.. I think Nina Wall's..where did she go?


Tuesday, October 02, 2012

Even this shall pass away...

In one day, I discover two beautiful poems...Very lovely, very different...

Even this shall pass away
By Theodore Tilton

Once in Persia reigned a King,
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance,
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they;
"Even this shall pass away."

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarkand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain,
Treasures of the mine or main;
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass away."

Mid the revels of his court,
At the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests,
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine;
Cried, 'O loving friends of mine;
Pleasures come, but not to stay;
"Even this shall pass away"

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed,
Softly to his soul he said:
Though no bridegroom ever pressed;
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay-
"Even this shall pass away"

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning from his tortured side,
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience, day by day",
"Even this shall pass away"

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his statue carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly: "What is fame?"
Fame is but a slow decay;
"Even this shall pass away"

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
"Life is done, but what is death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sun beam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray,
"Even this shall pass away."

This too shall pass away
 By Helen Steiner  

If I can endure for this minute
Whatever is happening to me,
No matter how heavy my heart is
Or how dark the moment may be-

If I can remain calm and quiet
With all the world crashing about me,
Secure in the knowledge God loves me
When everyone else seems to doubt me-

If I can but keep on believing
What I know in my heart to be true,
That darkness will fade with the morning
And that this will pass away, too-

Then nothing in life can defeat me
For as long as this knowledge remains
I can suffer whatever is happening
For I know God will break all of the chains

That are binding me tight in the darkness
And trying to fill me with fear-
For there is no night without dawning
And I know that my morning is near.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

A letter to You...

Dear You,


Do you remember the day we first met? I do.

I was seven years old and so were you. It was the first day of a new term in school. You were the new boy in class and Mrs. L made you sit next to me. I was very angry with you. I had wanted to sit next to Div – the girl I wanted as my newest best friend. For two years, I had tried to attract her attention and she had ignored me. Everyone wanted to be friends with Div and she had smiled at me that day for the first time, which had made me hope that I would be her newest friend. You spoiled that.

You tentatively grinned at me. I turned my head away. You offered me a sugar sprinkled chocolate biscuit in the break. I pulled out a white chalk from my green skirt pocket and drew a shaky white line on the dirty orange desk we had to share and primly told you, “My half, your half – Don’t cross”. You looked so shattered. I ignored you and smiled broadly at Div to try capturing her attention and therefore her friendship. She ignored me. Do you know how much I blamed and hated you at that moment?

Do you remember when we became friends? I don’t.

It was probably after I gave up expecting Div to be my friend. All the boys teased you – teased you for hanging out with a girl. You didn’t care. What an unlikely combination – The oily haired, pig tailed, loud voiced termagant with her brown streaked crumpled white shirt over chalk stained skirt and the polite, well-mannered boy who always wore sparkling white pressed shirts and never had a speck of dirt on his face. I failed Math and Science. You aced the class. The teachers adored you. You were so beautiful. What an unexpected friendship. Tuesday’s child and Wednesday’s child.

Do you remember the day you made me cry? I do.

We were building a castle of sand together in the playground. I wanted the castle to have moats, you didn’t. I ignored you and started to clump sand together making my moat. I never saw you get angry the way you did that day. I don’t know why you did. It was just a moat. So callously, you swept your hand against my moat. I watched my scattered sand in dismay and then looked up at you, hoping to see remorse in your face. But it was not to be. You looked at me defiantly. I lost my temper then. I rose to my knees, leaned forward and beat my arms downwards destroying our castle. I didn’t stop until all that was left were mounds of ruffled sand. I looked up at you; my anger gone, with a gleeful smile. I didn’t expect you to react the way you did that day. You were always so even tempered and placating. But that day, no. Your ears turned pink as did your cheeks. Your face seemed to puff up in rage as you stared at the destroyed remains and my sand coated self. I don’t know what ran in your mind at that moment. You knelt downwards, picking up clumps of sand in your fist and then in one furious moment flung it at my face. I was in shock for a moment as I raised my hands to my face and my eyes covered with sand. And then I started to cry. I cried for the sand in my eyes, I cried for your treating me so bad, I cried for our castle and I cried for the friendship I was going to say goodbye to.

I didn’t speak to you for months. You tried so much. You rubbed away the chalk lines that I started to draw again dividing our desk. You brought me sugar coated coconut biscuits which you knew I loved so much. I wouldn’t touch them. You tried to loan me pencils when I forgot to bring mine. I would stare at my empty notebook rather than touch your pencils. I was so hard and unforgiving.

Do you know when I fell in love with you? I do.

It was the last day of the year. By then Div had chosen me to be her friend. And you had moved on to start playing football with the other boys. That day I was sitting in the playground reading ‘Little Princess’ imagining I was Sarah. You shuffled up to me and cleared your throat to catch my attention. When I looked up frowningly from my book you smiled tentatively. I stared at you blankly. You reached your hand out towards me palm faced upwards. In it lay a tiny bar of soap. I looked at you quizzically. You softly told me, “Sorry. I got this for you to wash your face. For the, for the – sand I threw in it”. I nodded my head and took the soap from your hand and said, “Thank you”. In that moment, all my anger melted away. That was when I fell in love with you.

Do you know when you broke my heart? I do.

You told me in a voice filled with wistful regret, “My father has got a job in Delhi. We leave tomorrow. I will miss you forever”.

Love,
Dee