25 things you should absolutely do before you turn 25 :)

I am back!!!!! After two long years of a writer's block. The last couple of years have been so eventful, stressful, but certainly beautiful!!!! I turned 25 this month (woohoo) and I counted the number of things I would like to write in my 'Awesome things I did before turning 30' diary. Yes, I actually have a diary! I have penned down few things I am particularly proud of (mostly eating) doing before I turned 25. So here's my bucket list of things to do before you turn 25. Even if you are over 25, there are some things on the bucket list that you should do if you haven't done yet :) Read on :)

My journal of 'Awesome things I did before I turned 30'

1. Watch a live Sport...Could be any sport...Sitting in a large packed stadium is truly a thrill!

2. Bake a cake and eat it.

3. Read a good book. 

4. Take a solo trip. Could be anywhere. Travelling solo teaches you a lot of things about yourself.

5. Fall in love.

6. Fail..and then learn from it :)

7. Challenge yourself to achieve something that was not expected of you. Could be anything. 

8. Learn from a heartbreak.

9. Write a note to your 30-year-old self.

10. Step out of your comfort zone and do something insane.

11. Watch a meaningful movie alone or even better, attend a film festival all alone. 

12. Go to a music concert. 

13. Save up and buy one luxurious piece of accessory. Just one :)

14. Volunteer for a cause you care about.

15. Develop a personal style...Something that is comfortable for YOU!

16. Learn to cut off negativity...negative places, people...just CUT OFF! 

17. Let your real friends (usually very few) know what they mean to you :)

18. Watch Shawshank Redemption and The Pursuit of Happyness.

19. Learn to cook one gourmet dish and your comfort food.

20. Find your favorite drink. Could be non-alcoholic. For me, it's mint mocha :)

21. Watch the entire series of Friends, Suits and How I Met Your Mother.

22. Find your calling. That one thing that gives you pure, unadulterated joy.

23. Do a photography walk of your city. 

24. Play with a dog to know what pure affection is. 

25. Learn to be alone and enjoy your company :)

The Thinking Woman's Diary: Being "such a girl"

"She's a typical girl. She loves shoes. She loves going shoe shopping, right in mom's closet."

-Curtis Jackson

"Quit being such a girl, Priyanka". "I am sure you would want it in pink color". "What do you know, your'e a girl". "Do girls really know about stuff?" Sounds similar? These are the annoying questions that every woman comes across in her life pretty much frequently. There is one thing called gender stereotyping which we are not really complaining about. Because the world has stereotyped the stereotyping to such an extent that anything a person says or does is attributed to everything else but his or her individuality. What I personally cannot stand is when being "such a girl" is hurled at us as an accusation or even worse, an insult. I am not talking about men alone here, women also accuse each other of well, being a woman. The fault equally lies in us too since we take offence in being called a girl.Yes, I do understand that being "such a girl" is collectively associated to being unreasonable, vain, naive and well, a pain in the ass, But it's only fair to be called those things instead of attributing bad behavior to our gender, which btw one cannot change unless you win lottery.

Well I am not a man hater to begin with, hence I would really not jot down ways where we can make "such a guy" sound extremely offensive to the menfolk. But it doesn't mean I can't. I choose not to. I repeat. I choose not to. Spending a reasonably significant amount of time with the opposite sex, I can confidently say that yes, I really know them. And honestly speaking not one trait shown by most of the men commonly has offended me or made me say "you're such a guy!". No, I would rather embrace that difference as something inherent and make it seem endearing to me instead of annoying. Yes, it's possible. And there is nothing wrong in expecting the same kind of acceptance as women! Why do we need to be like men and trash our own belief system? In terms of work, relationships or just about anything, women these days are battling a tug inside of wanting to seem like one of the men and in turn losing their individuality. Yes, there are certain things men are really good at and yes we must constantly learn from everyone around us irrespective of their gender, color, ethnicity or just about anything. But we must also not let go or demean what we really are and probably even meant to be!

In no way my post is meant to hurt or attack men.I am blessed for not having to deal with the misogynistic attitude on a regular basis or maybe people know I will screw their happiness. Either ways it doesn't affect me. All I intend to do is urge women to embrace their individuality, don't shy away from what you really feel, express it the way you want to and don't try and be something you are not. At the same time work on your flaws for a better you, not to be like someone else. So to sum everything up I have listed few instances where I have been told to quit being "such a girl" and my mind goes "F%*k you, I am one".

• Pink. Dagnabbit! No, we are not the official mascot of Pink. We like Mauve, Wine Red, Turquoise, Magenta as much as we love Pink. And if a girl is obsessed with Pink, who cares! She likes it, she can pull it off so be it! And yes we are proud of knowing and pulling off every color in the world be it in our clothes, bags, shoes or whatever! And no, Purple and Lavender are not the same colors. 
• Talking way too much. Yes, we are super expressive about everything. We love talking. We can really really talk a lot. But why shouldn't one? You mentally feel lighter and you sleep well when you have spoken where you wanted to. Simple as that. 
• Crying. No, its not a sign of weakness. No, we are not vulnerable. This can be attributed to us being expressive. We can cry out a heartbreak or an emotional movie scene. We don't know how one doesn't cry when you feel sad. It just seems difficult to us but not impossible. But why not express sorrow when you can and be done with it? 
• Being too much into bags, shoes and makeup. Why can't men make their peace with it? We find it extremely cute how guys can take superheroes and football so seriously. Why can't we be left alone the same way? And fyi, I have known men looking down upon women who are not upto the mark in terms of fashion. But women don't really care if a guy is not into any sport so why judge those women who are not interested in reading Vogue like The Bible. Let's call it double standards, shall we?
• Being told how its our job to cook. No, it's really not. The only people whose job is to cook are the ones getting paid for it. We are just way too good in it. That one difference between women and men is yet to go away. We cook with lot of love. You can't take that away from us. We do it because we want to. It's one of our ways of expressing our love and not because our place is in the kitchen. And be thankful to the women who stayed in the kitchen to cook for you making you capable enough to say such things. A man's classy fettuccine with goat cheese and summer vegetables will kick maa ke haath ka dal chawal anyday. Beat that!
• Being picky about everything. We don't like regrets! Simple. I don't wanna go home with an ivory bag and regret when I see the same one in Burgundy carried by someone else. I am not gonna defend us on how we meticulously pick the curtains and sheets for the house because end of the day, the house looks beautiful! What I do is I don't drag impatient people along and then be picky about things. That's just not cool. And I would ask women to quit doing that and shop in peace, 
• Not knowing anything about Gadgets, Cars, Technology, Worldly affairs, Wildlife, Politics and just about anything remotely intellectual. This is the shittiest thing I personally have to deal with. I have kicked ass in terms of leading a conversation in the above mentioned things better than even a group of men. Not because I am out to prove a point but all these things genuinely interests me. And I didn't know how much I enjoyed reading and exploring about these things until I actually did. So I would suggest women to go out there and explore. You never know. The girl with the perfect nail art might end up taking interest in the Stock market equally. And I would suggest men who are sarcastic towards us, to ummm, get a life?
• Not letting go. Yes, we are stubborn. Whether it means letting go something we love that is not good for us or letting go an issue that bothers us. We are bad at doing both inspite of being very well aware of how important it is. It's not because we don't have the willpower or maturity to let go, it's because we always feel there is some room for improvement or a hope of transformation. Period.
• Being bitchy. Men bitch too. We all know that. 
• Remembering every little detail. This collectively benefits both the genders. The men won't admit but we remembering everything about them and for them has helped them massively as much as it has given us ammunition to fight as well. I would suggest, less fight and more help. Cheers!

There are some more serious and regressive accusations Indian women have to deal with. I would venture that zone with a slightly more serious writing. For know, it;s all about the freedom of expression and acceptance. And if someone accuses of being a girl, always say you are proud of being one!!!!

The Thinking Woman's Diary : Wake up calls and what happens when you answer them

"The age of a woman doesn't mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

     Chubby, spoiled, grumpy are probably the words my teachers remember when they think about me. Being one of those lucky few who could attend all the years of schooling at the same institution, I am also blessed to be remembered by all my teachers even after a decade of passing out. For other kids, it's usually the first few days of school that seem the hardest to deal with. But for me, it was first few years. I was the only kid who used to sit and cry till the very end of the day whilst sincerely doing everything the teacher asked to do. I used to miss my mother way too much. To make things worse, my poor working mother used to actually wait for almost half of the entire day outside the class so I would stop crying. But seeing her used to make me even more sad. My crying was not the usual wailing and stomping the foot. It used to be real tears of sadness. It might sound narcissistic but i was actually one of the most well behaved kids around (also read, very very cute). My relatives still swear by that! But I would just not stop crying when I was dropped off to school. So how did I cope with it? I would skip school! Yes, it sounds absolutely the worst way but that seemed the most convenient thing for me to do. I have made up excuses of having a pain in my heart to skip school. My family obviously didn't believe and made fun of my excuses but I used to physically feel that pain inside when I used to start getting ready for school. Obviously my mother had pampered me way, way too much (it's pretty evident even today) to force me into going to school. Most of my early childhood was spent in the comfort of my house with my Granny. And the rest of it was spent trying to survive the worst 7 hours of the day in school. I was one old peaceful soul who never wanted to go out and play but was super comfortable making up games in her own little space. Playing all alone. 

As I grew up and accepted the fact that I am too old to cry or be physically lifted and forcefully made to sit right inside the class so I don't run away, I also realized how lazy I was. I would never do my homework. The classwork books were incomplete. My handwriting was and still is beyond pathetic. My mother used to complete all my books. She used to hold my hand and do my homework and when I grew old enough to not do that, her hand stayed and mine moved away. My mother never complained or yelled at me because I used to surprisingly get good grades. My teachers were tired of complaining about my irregularity and laziness to my mother. They maintained one thing throughout that I am a very intelligent child but with a supremely lazy attitude towards life. My mother still feels bad about not being strict enough with me while I was growing up. I was the only child and I was genuinely very loving towards my family. And had a puppy face always ready to evade punishments. As I grew up I somehow had the arrogance of not being a conventional kid who needs to study everyday or even attend school everyday. To make things worse I transformed into this Lord of the last bench in the last 3 years of my school. I made sure I got punished everyday along with my poor friends. I was an absolute rogue who wanted to break rules and do every mischief possible in 3 years that kids had not done in 12 years. Yet, this never actually killed the smart child in me. I was one of those wonder kids who was made to skip one year of kindergarten for being too smart and well read for it. I was that notorious child in the class who never paid any attention yet knew the answer to any question that was asked. I used to give my teachers a lot of reasons to punish yet no reason to complain :)

Junior college and first 2 years of my graduation I was the female version of Sid (from Wake Up Sid, the movie guys!) Utterly spoiled, arrogant, had no clue about what life is all about. My grades dropped to below average. I didn't really have too many friends who could set me right. My mom somehow tried her best to make me a responsible person but I couldn't be just reformed. By then my friends, my family and my teachers were pretty sure I am not really going to be more than an average graduate girl. Who would lead a mediocre life and spend her mother's money. And no one really thought I would have any ambition of my own.

Fate had some other plans though. One massive blow on the academic front due to a serious personal loss bought me to the ground. The academic blow to me was so hard that I actually felt like a loser. Being average still seemed like the best I ever had. That's when I had the wake up call in my life. To understand what went wrong. To know how I need to prove a lot of people who wrote me off as a good for nothing spoiled brat. My arrogance never really left me even when I was beaten down. And even today, the one thing that brings out the best in me is my pride. Probably a wrong way to push oneself but hey, it works for me! Somehow the urge of making every person who wrote me off to appreciate me in the future made me a perfect student anyone could ever have. I used to make my own notes. Study like a maniac. I was sincerity personified. And not being a genuinely bad person at heart, even fate smiled upon me. I managed to gain a lot of respect at a place where I was practically written off as a good for nothing. And yes, I did successfully achieved what I wanted to (More on that part of my life later)

Today I am heading towards a very crucial and fulfilling arena of my life. It took me a lot of patience and hard work to get there. And by God's grace I have landed an oppurtunity that is only due to the hard work I had put in after my debacle. So yes! Everything has reasons! We must have patience and always remember that God's plans for us are far better than our own plans for us. Though I have not lost out too much in life by being complacent but yes my academic profile would have been 100 times more consistently better than it is today :) 

And what prompted this blog post was a visit to my school today. I was representing the NGO I am volunteering for. And I could see my math teacher smiling ear to ear seeing me all grown up and responsible. A child he has punished continuously for 4 years coz I sucked in math. Sadly.....very sadly, I still do....But I will change that soon :D Hopefully! :D

Chapter 3: - The First Lie

Back to Chapter 2: - The Long Red Bindi     


       The fort game was the one thing Piya looked forward too. That was Geeta's quality time with Piya. Piya that day had carefully arranged her toys, tied up dupattas and kept her tiny utensils in place. She was waiting for Geeta. The only difference was that Piya had a guilty conscience that day. Piya knew she did something wrong. Piya knew she might get punished that day. Piya was grew anxious. It was something she did. She did repeatedly. She had lied. For the very first time. It all started a few days ago.

        It was an accepted fact that Piya hated school. The reason however was not known. She was good in studies and was promoted to the first grade by skipping the senior year kindergarten. She was the only student in her class who could read newspaper headings and sub-headings. Teachers pampered her. Her classmates loved her. Still, Piya would every day cry for the first couple of hours when Geeta left her in the school. Geeta would stand outside her classroom to make sure Piya was okay. Geeta would get late for work every day by at least 3 hours. The teachers explained to Geeta that her waiting outside the classroom would spoil Piya even more. Geeta was asked not to leave Piya to school everyday to ensure the separation was easier. So, Geeta arranged an auto for Piya that would pick and drop her to school along with a couple of more kids from the same locality. Piya was terribly upset for a week or so but due to the lack of familiarity with the auto driver, she threw no tantrums for school. Everyone in the family was relieved that Piya was disciplined to some extent.

      Like everyday, Piya was waiting for her auto to come and pick her up. Teary eyed, she looked back at the window where Amma stood to wave goodbye to her. Amma very well understood that Piya had no intentions of going to school and there was no way she is going to fall for her puppy face. The auto arrived at 12.15 pm to pick up little sad Piya. Piya waved goodbye to Amma and sat inside the auto on her favorite corner seat. There was something cooking in Piya's mind that day. There is no way I will attend school today. Piya had a plan. A plan that was going to get her into trouble.

          As the auto arrived at the school gate, all the kids in the auto gathered their school bags, water bottles and got out of the auto except, well Piya. Piya refused to budge. The auto driver asked her to get down and go inside the school premises. Piya refused. The auto driver was startled as he had no clue that a child over 5 years could be so adamant. He decided to ask the Sports Instructor of the school to help him out. Every child in the school was petrified of Jadhav Sir except for little Piya. Not that she was a brave heart, it was a sheer example of how ignorance could be a bliss. Jadhav Sir intervened and asked Piya to step out of the auto. He even blew his whistle to scare her. Piya looked away and said No. Jadhav sir gently held Piya's hand and tried to yank her out of the auto. Little Piya caught hold of the seat in the auto and refused to budge. Jadhav Sir was left with no choice but to scoop Piya in his arms and carry her inside the school premises. He did exactly the same and asked the auto driver to leave. He let Piya down and told her to straight go and sit in the classroom. Piya was fuming. Tears trickled down her chubby cheeks. Tears of shame and disappointment they were. That was a one of a kind incident in that school. At least one of a kind for a child as old as Piya. Jadhav Sir was surprisingly amused and decided not to report the incident to Piya's mom. Piya still had a chance.

        Next day, Piya silently got ready for school. She didn't threw any tantrums to skip school. Amma was a little surprised with Piya's improvement. Something is wrong for sure, she thought. Piya got dressed, had her favorite lunch and left home smiling at Amma. She went downstairs and stood waiting for her auto. She  hopped playfully and had a mischievous grin. The auto arrived and Piya sat inside. She started mentally rehearsing her new plan of action. This will definitely work. Piya smiled. The auto arrived at the gate and Piya started coughing. She told the auto driver she was extremely unwell and asked him to take her back. The auto driver had no choice but to take Piya back home. On the way back home, Piya felt an air of freedom. The same journey that used to make her sad seemed so blissful then. She was continuously wheezing and coughing to ensure that the auto driver didn't suspect her.

      Once Piya reached her door step, she had a complete monologue prepared. The moment Amma opened the door, Piya began her performance. Evading eye contact, Piya chirped "Amma, see no, the school has holiday today. They didn't write in the calender also. I had to go and come back. I will tell teacher tomorrow, this is not correct." "Very bad, alle Amma?"  Amma was puzzled. She didn't know whether to believe Piya or not. In spite of being suspicious, Amma bought the huge cooked up story served by Piya. Not that Amma was gullible, she trusted Piya a lot. Everyone in the family did. They knew very well that Piya can never lie even if she wanted too. She was a terrible lair. So, Amma told Piya to change into her PJs and go to sleep. Those words sounded like honey to Piya. Yayyyyyyyyyyy!!!!! She gave herself a mental high five and went inside her room to change. Piya was careful and didn't let her gleeful squeak out. She didn't want Amma to suspect her. After all this was one plan that worked. Piya decided she is going to do this every time she didn't feel like going to school. The only issue was that she did this for the consecutive two days.

        On the third day of Piya's "No School Day", Amma grew suspicious. She called up Geeta and asked her to give Piya's class teacher a call. Geeta did. Geeta didn't like what she heard. Piya has started lying. This was the first time Geeta was furious over Piya. Geeta had a terrible temper. Everyone in the family had been a victim to it. Her brothers were scared for Piya. They stood guarded for little Piya that evening as they knew Geeta has no control over her temper. Geeta at her work place was growing impatient. She decided to go home early that day. Piya has had it now. But how am I going to punish her? Geeta decided to be strong. I have to discipline her. She was fuming with rage. She could be waiting for me to play the fort game. No. I have to be strong. 

What was going to happen next? It will be revealed in the next chapter. :)

Chapter 2: - The Long Red Bindi

Back to Chapter 1:-The Endearing Dilemma

Sleep and sadness took over Piya’s eyes. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Geeta. She held back her tears in her big almond shaped eyes and bid adieu to Geeta. It was late and time for Piya to sleep. Though Piya had a penchant for movies, she was not allowed to stay up late since Amma wanted her early to bed and early to rise. There was a Hindi movie going on television that night, a rare sight in the typical South Indian household. Piya made her puppy face and asked “Amma, Salman picture”. "Illya" (No) said Amma sternly. That was curtains down for Piya. Piya was a very different child who never sought answers, argued or even asked anything for the second time, no matter how badly she wanted it. A rare combination of understanding and ego stood out in her personality. She was a surprisingly matured person for her age. So, little Piya dressed in her favourite white PJs with hair plaited neatly crawled on the bed next to Amma and held her hand. Piya couldn’t fall asleep without holding Amma’s hand. After a long hard day at work Amma’s arms again, had no rest. The television was switched off after the daily dose of news and lights went off after the daily dose of funny anecdotes from Milind. Piya hasn’t fallen asleep. The room was silent. Piya slowly freed herself from Amma’s protective hand around her and looked out of the window over to the dimly lit road. It was silent and serene. She could hear the leaves swaying with regular gushes of wind. It was a slightly cold and breezy weather. Something caught Piya’s attention. The building right in front of her had a home where people are awake and watching, oh yes! Salman Picture. Piya was overjoyed and though she could barely decipher what was going on in the movie, she made sure she still looked attentively over without squeaking. After about 10-15 minutes, the obvious happened, Piya got bored. She then came back to bed and started thinking, her favourite past time. She was wondering what Geeta could be doing at this time. Would Geeta had let me watch Salman picture? Maybe yes.

Geeta was in her late 20s, ambitious, charming, funny, head strong and deeply devoted to her parents. Geeta was Piya’s mother. So who was Amma then? Amma was Geeta’s mother, Piya’s Grandmother, Saraswati. The only person in the world Geeta could trust who could take care of her little bundle of joy, Piya. Piya was oblivious of the situation her parents were going through. They wanted to make sure their careers didn’t hamper Piya’s childhood in any way. So Piya became Amma and Acha, Geeta’s Father Ravi’s 4^th child. The most pampered and most loved of all. With Geeta being an ultimate prankster and a tomboy all through her life, having little angelic Piya was a welcome gift from life for Amma. She always wanted Piya to be very different from Geeta. And how she succeeded in the feat is a different story altogether.

Back in her apartment, Geeta was flipping channels and looking for something interesting to watch. She comes across a Salman Khan movie and clapped with excitement. He was Geeta’s favourite. She misses Piya. No I am not going to watch any movie without my Piya. Geeta switches off the television with a heavy heart and picks up the newspaper. Not one, not two but four different newspapers. Not that they carried different stories or events across the city, but Geeta’s love for reading knew no bounds. Once she finished reading her newspaper, she picked up her bible, The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, and curled up in her bed.  She reads, reads and reads. She read till her eyes were heavy with sleep. She can’t help but miss little Piya by her side. She wished Piya was there to chirp endlessly, which Piya did every waking minute of her life. Avoiding thinking about Piya, Geeta went to sleep.

Geeta was a disciplined early riser. It didn’t really matter what time she went to bed, she would religiously be up by 6 in the morning. And the couple of early morning hours were very precious to Geeta. She called it her thinking time. With a sweet and strong cup of piping hot tea, Geeta was standing in her veranda, gazing at birds chirping, clouds moving, trees swaying and oh, I am late for work. Geeta was perennially late, fashionably though. She took a quick shower, skipped breakfast like every day and packed her handbag with the newspapers and books. Kohl lined eyes and a big long red bindi were indispensible part of Geeta’s personality, she looked every inch an Indian dusky beauty. Geeta rushed out of the building and called out for an auto to reach the station making sure she didn’t share the ride with anyone. On the way she gets about 5-6 calls which enquired what time she would be reaching office. Geeta cleverly dodged her excuses for being late and kept saying that she will be there soon. Geeta finally reached station and stood waiting for her train to arrive. She had a definite spot where she stood every day since she knew that is one way to ensure she rushes in the First class compartment first and grabs her window seat. She accomplished this feat every day! In Mumbai! She stood near a snacks stall and an elderly feeble woman approached her. Geeta was appalled at the sight of an elderly lady begging for a living. Instead of giving money, Geeta took the old woman to the stall and asked her to eat something. She paid the stall guy and made sure the old lady got a cup of tea and pack of biscuits. Geeta held back her tears and went back to her spot when the train was just about to arrive. The train arrived and whoosh, with one swift movement, Geeta was in the train. She sat comfortably in her favourite window seat with a smile of accomplishment and embarked the journey to work. Looking out of the window was a familial hobby. Geeta saw trees, huge buildings; slums, offices and people pass by when the trained speedily moved through Central Suburban Lines of Mumbai.

Geeta reached office and gave a warm smile to everyone. Her pearly sparkling smile with an unbeatable charm made people forget that she was almost an hour late for work. Everyone at work loved Geeta’s sense of humour and her dynamic personality. Always the leader of the pack, Geeta had a history of quarrelling crazy with her seniors and yet getting away by making her point clear and heard. Geeta worked dedicatedly without really caring about the number of hours she was actually supposed to put in. She over committed and over delivered. Adored by her colleagues and revered by the juniors, Geeta was a born star.

As the evening approached, Geeta was wondering if she could get home early and spend some time with Piya. She wanted to surprise Piya by playing her favourite game, The Fort game. This game was nothing but building a fort of curtains and putting all of Piya’s toys in one place and letting her play on her own. Maybe I can get home early today. Wonder what Piya must be doing. Geeta was sitting in her cabin looking at Piya's picture in her purse.

:)

Next Chapter 3: - The First Lie

Chapter 1:-The Endearing Dilemma

Amma walked into little Piya sleeping peacefully. Amma knew Piya is awake and was trying her best to avoid school like she always used to. Crisp cotton saree draped neatly, hair neatly tied in a bun, tall, fair and pleasantly plump. One look at her and you could say that Amma was a disciplinarian. Ignoring all the puppy faces and feline noises Piya was making, Amma asked sternly, “So what’s the excuse today?”  Piya covers herself over with a blanket and says “Er, I feel a little heavy in my heart, maybe I should sleep Amma, no school Amma, please na.” Amma simply burst out laughing and called Milind in the room, her blue eyed son in his late 20s. “You heard what she said? It seems today her heart is giving her trouble. This is what happens when a little girl watches too much television.” Milind doted on Piya since the time she was born and he poured all his affection on her. Piya was more like a daughter to him. He covered Piya over with a blanket and took Amma out of the room. Amma was caught up with packing lunch boxes and ensuring that the men of the house leave for their work on time, so she saved Piya for the last since her school was in the afternoon. Meanwhile Milind’s elder brother Vineet, the ultimate prankster of the family, tiptoed over Piya’s room and woke her up again. He pulled Piya’s ears and she screeched with anger. That was Vineet’s agenda for the day completed successfully. Acha came out of his room with a comb in his hand and dressed up for the day. His moustache was just like the Army men which gave him a very stern and intimidating demeanour. He was very particular about how well his shirt is ironed and how perfectly his trousers fit. “Early morning this boy starts troubling my little doll”, Acha yelled out to Amma. Hearing Acha’s voice, Piya decided to persuade him that she doesn’t want to go to school. She quietly walked towards him like a little girl burdened with a heavy heart. Acha then made her sit on his lap and attempted at cajoling her. ”You are a good girl no? Good children never say no to education. You know how difficult it is for some people to even get an admission in a school?” By now, Milind chirped in “Amma let her stay at home na, even I have a holiday, I will play with her” Acha sternly said “Milind, it’s because of you that this girl is getting lazier day by day, stop pampering her like this. Piya will go to school, won’t she?” Piya nodded along with least interest and had by then accepted the fact that she had to go to school at any cost. Sigh.

 Since the time Piya was in her kindergarten, she had developed the knack of making up the most unique and funny excuse to avoid school, everyday!  Not that she was bad in her studies or had no friends in the school. She was the only student who was sent from junior year kindergarten to the first grade directly since she had brilliant communication skills and was much more evolved for her age. The teachers absolutely adored her in spite of her absenteeism and reluctance for school. A baby face, dusky complexion, jet black curly hair and an impressive height, Piya came off as a typical South Indian kid from her looks. But unlike other South Indian kids, she was least interested in pleasing teachers or being the first one to answer every question. She had a little world of her own where everything had to be real and sensible. Her classmates thought of her as an arrogant girl but still somehow mustered up some courage to interact with her. Once they got to know her , they realized that she is she a friendly, kind yet reserved girl. She used to cry silently missing home unlike other kids who wailed at the drop of a hat. She hated to be away from home and her teachers knew it. Tears used to keep dripping on her big, round cheeks and she used to wipe them off while writing in her notebooks. The handwriting was consistently bad. It was legible but very bad. She surely couldn’t seem to care about it.

Somehow Piya managed to pull of the day and came back home in the evening.  Before Piya started lazing around, Amma caught hold of her and made sure she took a shower in hot water with Dettol. Yes! Hot water shower with Dettol was a painful and unavoidable ritual maintained by Amma. And mind you, nobody could escape it. Amma made Piya wear clean clothes meant only for the home and then let her into her own world. Piya was allowed to watch as much as cartoons and television as she wanted to. The family was very liberated and never believed in troubling little kids with studies every day. Piya was looking out of the window and waving out to a little monkey perched on a dense tree next to their house. Kids from the other buildings used to do the same thing but again Piya was keen about knowing as to how can one stay on a tree. She was engrossed in her thoughts. Spotting her deeply engaged, Amma told Milind that she sometimes gets worried as to what this girl is thinking because she never tells anything to anyone. Piya was still looking out of the window and she kept checking the time. It was 4.30 and she saw Acha coming back from work. She was overjoyed and opened the door, something Piya did every day. Acha loved curling Piya's hair with his tiny comb, he made sure he did it everyday. She played with him for a while and went back at her window to see the world outside. The clock struck 8.30 pm and she ran inside her room. Acha was comfortably watching a cricket match which was the one thing that the entire family was crazy about. Piya said nothing and made a puppy face. Acha knew it was time for Popeye the Sailor man so handed over the remote control to Piya and made a huge sacrifice. Halfway through the cartoon show, Piya heard the doorbell ringing. Something struck her and she ran over to the door. When she opened the door, there was this beautiful dusky woman with a big red bindi and a nice smelling perfume, beautifully painted long nails and a wedge heeled shoes. This woman lifted Piya in her arms and gave a peck on her cheeks. Amma came out of the kitchen and said “This is nice. You come and Piya forgets our existence.” Everybody gave an affirmative laugh and a warm welcome to the woman. Amma quickly served dinner for everyone. The dinner was typical vegetarian simple meal which belonged more to the culture of Mumbai city where they lived since 2 decades than from Kerala which was their native place. The food was made keeping Piya in mind. Food was less spicy, less oily and off course tasty since Piya was a big foodie. After having a sumptuous meal of dal,rice,salad,curd and papad, Piya would be fed at least one spoon of rice again turn by turn by every member of the house. Only then everyone else would start eating their meal. When everybody else was busy eating dinner, Piya served water and passes around papads or pickles for everyone. She was a typical girl who wanted to learn everything that her Amma did.

Piya is aware that this woman is going to leave after dinner. She felt a lump in her throat. But she knows she can’t leave Amma and go. So what will Piya do now? What is this endearing dilemma as to who she loves more? Next chapter will reveal it all J  

Next Chapter 2: - The Long Red Bindi

Gangs of Wasseypur

I am completely bowled over with the masterpiece Gangs of Wasseypur, created by the ace director Anurag Kashyap. I am not including this under movie review because I can’t write an unbiased opinion and feedback over this movie. This is a personal post dedicated to a milestone in innovative Indian cinema. Consider this as a fan babbling, you will know why once you read the post. Also what makes me proud is that the movie is completely desi. I can be assured I don’t have to look out to Hollywood directors for entertainment or refer Global Masterpieces like Persian and Iranian for substance. This film freaking has it all. It’s entertaining, engaging, raw, original, real and simply superb.

The casting:-

In the era of making movies where the only success formula is to have A list actors and their controversies, superheroes and their gadgets, Anurag Kashyap has managed to get memorable performances out of little known to unknown actors. How many of us really know the background of the stone hearted puppeteer of the revenge saga Ramadhir Singh? Google him and you will know what gives him an amazing nonchalant style of acting which makes him the most feared character at the same time in his first movie. Manoj Bajpai as Sardar Khan gave an engaging performance in the first half of the movie. He had made an unspoken statement which marked his territory as the ultimate baddie, who had taken the audience by storm with his character Bhiku Mhatre in Satya. The movie simply does justice to him. Nawazuddin siddiqui, who plays Faisal Khan, pulls of the entire second part of the movie by stepping into the shoes of an actor like Manoj Bajpai. Every character in the first and the second part of the movie remains etched in your mind. Starting from the man whose murder started it all, Piyush Mishra, the sutradhar of the saga, the merciless Ehsaan Quereshi who is a butcher and the accomplice of Ramadhir Singh, the policemen, the guy who supplied guns without saying a single dialogue in the movie, the gunmen, the accomplices, the strong and bold women like the dutiful begum Nagma Khatoon, femme fatale Durga and Mohsina the pillar of strength for Faisal Khan, Zeishan Quadri who plays the semi dumb and dangerous goon Definite, perpendicular and tangent are memorable in their tiny roles, the guy who was shot after getting his head shaved and just about everyone. The casting is exhaustive but fits every role perfectly. The actors deliver performances so real and perfect, that you almost feel like you are a part of the V for vendetta saga.

The Locations and Styling:-

Again, this movie was entirely shot in remote locations of Varanasi, Bihar and Chunnar and not Manhattan or Paris. The locations and sets are few and distinct. When screenplay moves swiftly across the streets of “Dhanbad”, you feel getting involved into the movie. With the gradual progression of eras from introduction of Dhanbad in the 1940s to the current situation depicted in 2000s.  The styling has been done perfectly and the generation leaps are introduced in the natural flow of the movie. The film posters stuck on walls, movie theatres, youngsters mimicking trends of the actors and real life using reel life dialogues and theories give out some hilarious moments to watch out. When Nawazuddin is out to kill the guy who shot his father, he shaves the guy’s head and makes him wear aviators. Later on shoots him after a dialogue and a laugh of his share saying Shakaal lag raha hai be.

Music:-

Nope this movie has no item song, who’s who of music industry or promotion tracks sung by Mika Singh. Sneha Khanvilkar has created unconventional music of violent and sexual innuendos for every turning point in the film. The music is not thrown in and will not be appealing as standalone music tracks. The music is made for the story and not the other way round, which is what happens in most of the Hindi movies. Teri keh ke lunga, Womaniya, Hunter, Ik Bagal in both the parts of the movie, Jiya tu at the end of the first part and Soona kar ke songs were blended perfectly into the first part of the movie. In the second part, not too much of variety in the songs but check out Chee chaa ledar song sung by a 12 year old kid who sings in trains, pitched in at the perfect moment of chasing depicting the meaning of the song.

The dialogues, screenplay, story and script:-

Oh the dialogues!!!!! I still can’t stop laughing over the fine dialogues of the movies. I am not even embarrassed to say that probably I was the only girl in the theatre who understood and laughed out loud at every dialogue of the movie. Needless to say there were only couple of girls there. Anyways. Moving on. I can’t mention any of the dialogues here, you must watch the movie and I won’t let out any of the pearls for sure.  The dialogues are not metaphors or hyperboles. They are simply spoken with no thought or expression. The dialogues are raw and in your face making you gawk with your mouth wide open. The thought is Oh man did he just say this??? The body language of the actors is so natural that it is difficult to believe that they are acting and not really killing people. Blood spurting, magazines exhausting and the Kattas swivelling and shooting bullets will leave you with a realing impact. The lengths of the movies are a little disappointing but it is so engaging that the audience are going to realize when they run out of popcorns and colas. A crispier editing would have been a saviour for the average movie goer who likes to be simply entertained. Either ways, the scenes have been fitted perfectly like pieces of a jigsaw going from present to past which keeps moving from the first part and continues to the 2^nd reaching a point where the 1^st part started. Simply beautiful.  The Dhanbad coal mafia story woven around the families which are reeling under the impact of the Qureshis and Pathans rivalry causing series of murders and vengeful tactics is the least expected entertaining story you can expect.

Okay, so now that I have said enough about the Oh so awesome movies, you go and watch it now. And if you haven’t even seen the first part yet, go for a double whammy watching both the parts on the same day. I am planning to, AGAIN. Anybody want to join??? ;)

Rating:- 4/5