I've been adulterated!

Confession time. I'm in a clandestine relationship. Have been for the past three years. It's unbelievable how innocently one falls for someone; and somebody as romantic as me, is almost always walking on slippery sands.

I'll tell you from the beginning. He steals you with a song. Actually, it all started with the singing. I met him in Switzerland when I walked into this shop and there he was whistling a tune. It was a split-second catch-you-in-the-eye kind of a contact and I knew, I'd fallen. But like a committed married person, I thwarted my attention to the other stuff. And he was no cheap stake either. Totally indulged me, the charmer that he was! Thank heavens, my spouse didn't notice those exchanges.

I thought that would be the briefest fling ever and I'd put it behind me. Hubby went out into the street with my daughter, leaving us alone, quite innocently. I tried to tame my beating heart and stepped out quite hastily but he called out to me, from that window. That was my undoing. Despite having harangued many a friend on the backlash of adultery; there I was, neck-deep in it and no where to run.

Throughout our holiday in Europe, I couldn't stop thinking about him and that song I'd heard. I may have even come to terms with it and later eulogised him somewhere in my poetry but things were not to end there. I returned to India and Glory-be-Thy-name, guess what happened? He followed!! Really!!!

He's settled 'nearabouts' now and we have these love moments when nobody is at home. I can't seem to help it. When I caress him lovingly, he sings out in pleasure. I waltz dreamily with his body rhythm. I chuckle as he chimes. If it is any vindication at all, I'll say we have a totally platonic relationship. Boring and incredible? But that's what most truths are nowadays. Seriously. There's nothing more than a snug, comforting hand-holding. Besides the occasional demand he makes of me to get his...er...pendulum going. Gooseflesh.

 Sigh, my darling Mr. Cuckoo Clock (lovingly called Cuckoo Sing(h)), I can't imagine a day without your happy song :) :) : )

And my dears, what a lark of a morning today! Before I get back to my darling Mr. Cuckoo, whose pendulum demands some winding up again (now get that silly smile off your face), would like to share something that I found in my old, old diary:

                                                   Fields of corn,

                                           like childhood friends,

                                      the breeze made gently sway.

                                      Little was the knowledge then,

                                             littler the gloomy day!

Have a happy day, m'dears

Love-bites and flowers too

I'm back. And I came in flying. On Cupid's wings. Sounds too saccharine to you? Wait till you see the love birds fluttering around your neighbourhood today. It's really sweet. The smothering-your-throat kind of sweet. Especially because, if you're in your thirties like me, you really can't manage to enjoy that being-silly kind of love on the roads any more. Or can you? I wonder.

We went to a pre-Valentine's Day gig last night. It was my favourite singer Mika , doling out all the hot numbers that I totally love to gyrate to. But guess what the odds were? I was heavily drugged, had been advised to take it easy for some time as far as physical activity is concerned, no alcohol-not even a shandy and in a city like Lucknow, where you lose your right to be fancy-free the day you get married.By God, I'd been waiting for this evening, since last month. And I'd even bought myself a new outfit! We were made to sit in the first row when Mika came on stage. I so wanted to scream like I was fifteen again. But such courage is hard to muster without a shot of vodka. So, the first number got rolling. People are generally too sophisticated in this city to let their hair down very easily. By the time the second song came through, the dance floor in front of us was howling for attention. My husband, who is my all-time favourite dance-partner, had forbidden me to exhaust myself, owing to the food-less days behind me.

What the hell! What's a party without music and what's music without a shake? Who needs a validating reason to be happy and celebrate? And I hadn't waited all these days to sit through such a pulsating performance. I got up, pulled my daughter along ( who was anyway waiting for the slightest push) and took over the dance floor. Hubby couldn't resist for too long. Got a thumbs-up from Mika and in a few minutes, the dance floor felt it was worthwhile to exist on the planet. We had the Lucknow crowd grooving!!!

Moreover, my baby was invited on stage with a bunch of other children to dance with the singer. Oh, the joy and confidence on her face.The highlight of the evening was the team from the local T.V. channel coming up to us on the dance floor and asking for a byte on the evening (even though I couldn't understand initially when the interviewer said in murdered English,"I want your bite!" Glad my bicep-flexing valentine couldn't hear it over the din). It was funny how each question was essentially tagged with "So, what are you feeling?" It was a perfectly entertaining evening!

Now, before you go ahead and begin to think, I'm on my show-off spree again; I'll make the point. And the stubby point is that when we see people younger than us having a good time, we either judge them for being whatever they are, or feel regretful that we can't be them anymore. Who does that help? Who set the age-limit for unpretentious, child-like joy? We keep building walls inside us and consequently, as we start to confine others within those walls, inadvertently, we begin to confine ourselves the most. Even though, I'm not a proponent of the 'I don't give a damn about anyone' attitude; I do believe that it is possible to be sensitive to the expectations of those around you and still have fun. Loads of it!

Therefore,  each time you see those droopy-eyed love birds flutter by, don't feel envious. Go hug your mate and whisper the sillies in their ear : ) (and try not to bite their ear off while you do so. It doesn't qualify as a love-bite). Do something crazy. Love is work-in-progress.

Happy Valentine's Day to all.

Oh! by the way, I told hubby not to bring me any kind of cut flowers today. I prefer potted plants, if at all. I'd rather have the gesture of love, blooming happily and thriving in my garden than withering away in the vase. Just a thought to share.

Good News. Bad News.

Good news. Bad news.

Folks, I am on a see-saw ride. Have been all my life, but lately things have become kind of head-spinning swingy.

Let me begin by telling you the good news. We moved into a new city recently and left many wonderful memories and experiences behind in Mumbai. However, despite the best efforts of a few cynics, we managed a picture-pretty life here. The optimism helped tremendously and things started to happen , just the way I wanted them. Talk of self-hypnotism. Warm people, gorgeous traditional food and tolerable traffic. We knew we'd be O.K.

So, the exciting news came about ten days ago when I got a call from the Director of a theatre group to come and audition for an upcoming play. Yipeedoodah! Of course, I went somersaulting and landed myself a place amidst that wonderfully funny set of people, for a comedy to be staged in a premium club on 2nd March.

So far, so good. We had started rehearsing, waking up at 5: 30 a.m., driving through thunder-storms, chai-shai in the rain and happy flirting through rich baritones and squeaky laughter.

This went on for a week.

And then, kaboom! I woke up at 3:00 a.m. two days ago with a crippling pain in my abdomen. With a phenomenally high pain threshold, I would've just hobbled(the pain-dance) through it until it subsided and told my husband about it only in the morning. However, this one was an over-achiever. It made me wake him up and insisted that 'it' be taken to the hospital. After getting a pain-killer needled into my system, my cave-age stance didn't go away and we were told to get a few tests done. Later in the day, an ultrasound confirmed appendicitis.

Ha,ha and bah! that's the reaction it deserved. Now, on liquid diet and rest for ten days. This means no aerobics, no physical training and certainly no food frenzy ( actually, the third one is not so bad as I won't have to spend too much time cooking ). I'll have to go for an elective appendectomy, possibly next month, in order to avoid any kind of emergency which might occur in the future. Needless to say, I had to break-up with my new- found boyfriend--the Lucknow stage. And we didn't even get that last kiss : (

But; yes, there's a but here too; the happy and sunshine day that it is today, I'm back on my feet and already flirting with my all-time partner- the P.C. ;P Other than a few show-downs because of my disloyalty; when he chose to hang up on me (I told him how fulfilling the new i-phone was. That download didn't go down very well with him)or even packed up and threatened to leave me for good; he's been quite a doting mate : ). And even my partner-in-crime, sometimes.

Therefore, in the see-saw scheme of things, I guess I should be getting some good news pretty fast. Unless, 

what I 'saw' is what I shall 'see',

 which actually can't be,

coz the saw and the see,

in the cosmic spree,

can only last 

till see becomes saw

and saw becomes see.

Totally stupid. I know. If laughter is the best medicine, stupidity is the nurse.

Laters, my dears!

Flight of fancy

Green and white,

crisscrossed by black

the tiles on the floor;

some drooping shy,

some free and wild,

spring-flowers through the door

to-

the staircase then

leading to when

they hopped over the fence

the cobbled snake

moved on to meet

a sprightly wilderness.

A look about

and furtive search

for rabbits in the dark

mushrooms and twigs

and berry things

not found in the park

climb up a tree

that doesn't know

its nature, name or fruit

hang upside down

and try to see

the world with wandering roots

the beehive or the weaver bird

don't spare a look or care

the clumsy vines,

the unkempt hair

who needs to stop and stare?

the frenzied brook

and the broody nook

with cradled rocks ahead

the deer, the doe

that briskly go

to the princely tiger's stead

then run askance

and leave behind

all glories

and the chase

if one would stop

to ponder much

they'd lose their wondrous gaze

hop, skip and jump

and lo, behold

the house is back in sight

what joy, what fun

in the winter Sun

and a chair-bound aimless flight !

Of love and loving

This is something I wrote a long, long time ago....29th day of December 2001...on my first date with that man who I met on the train to Delhi.

I wonder why he still wanted to marry me...this should have been enough to scare him away :D

Anyway, putting this here just for the record:

There comes a time in every life

when dawn to dusk do take flight

the sun-kissed birds of love and joy

fall prey to a lurking serpent night...

...but life goes on from dusk to dawn

and who can turn the tide of time

the venom that the night did spawn

flows rarefied by the morning light.

Life has been an enriching journey so far; making me believe time and again, in miracles; and hope it continues to be so.

There's nothing more beautiful in this world than a heart full of love.

An added thought:

...and thereafter,
never did a day yet dawn,
nor fawn a purple night
your vision when it left the eye
sans amorous hope beside.

When Mars meets Venus

Diamonds are a woman's best friend. Used to be. Once upon a gender-biased lifetime. As luck would have it, Darwin's theory of evolution is evolving too as it copes with the fading differences between Adam and Eve. And so applicable on Earth, Mars and Venus alike. Other than glorified carbons, there are quite a few tips that may help keep the Martians and Venusians together for another couple of eons.

I had a visitation yesterday by Darwink* -the God of the Theory of the Relationship Revolution. In my dream, he endowed upon me the responsibility to unveil to the world, his cataclysmic exposition.

1. Men rejoice! It's diamonds no more. Flattery is undisputedly a girl's best friend. It's a timeless classic and no recent development, this. Just because you guys were unable to discover this secret yourself, you've had to pay the price with diamonds all these years. The best things in life come for free.

2. For the guys who just read  #1 and brought out that crooked smile, and also probably the first deep sigh of relief in years- hold on to that breath. Flattery at the cost of indulgence and thoughtful flair, is going to fall flat. And on your own face at that. Therefore, while flattery rules the roost, diamonds still come a close second. When you fail to sound sincere with flattery, diamonds will become YOUR best friends and lead you onto light.

3. Ladies, what makes a woman a man's trophy, an asset? If you said 'eyes', you've never met an honest man. Until this revelation. Now, smarten your ass..er..act, and learn to identify the real ones from the fakers. Eyes, hair and other such irrelevant facial contours are YOUR fixed deposits, not his. Anyway, now that you ARE an asset, with whatever you believe, you must remember that assets need to perform on a continuous basis. The term 'set in stone' works well for the Constitution, not your hips. Go salsa, zumba, tango and keep that rear moving, if you know what's good for you. Your looks won't last a lifetime; or even a relationship. Those hips will.

4. For the romantically challenged men: It's touch, kiss and burn...in that order. The reverse never goes to stage. No, not even after a decade of dress-rehearsals. Reading the script backwards never worked for anybody. Not even Amitabh Bachchan.

5. O.K. So, you are the most macho among your breed. And you are also the Suneil Shetty/Sylvestor Stallone corporate prototype. But seriously, a little humour never killed anybody. "I just died laughing" was not meant to be taken literally, and shunned forever. Time to lighten up the romance. Humour her. Not at her.

6. Girls, drop the 'I' from the talk sometime. Take the focus elsewhere. And ladies who believe that it helps to carry their man's attention on to other women to keep the sizzle in the drizzle- You're star-smart! And if you think that attention means maid-talk, new friend's ugly secrets or how your mother-in-law victimised you today,  then please go ahead and rip that star-smart tag right off your shoulder.

7. Ladies and gents, crude as it may sound, it really does pay to bring an outsider into the partnership. And don't go penny-pinching on that. Certain pleasures are meant to be bought. Ditch the guilt, shame or sacrilegious joy that you might feel at entertaining such thoughts.A pair of outsourced helping hands does help spruce up togetherness. My husband and I did just that. We could kiss those hands. Yes! Such are the joys of a professional baby-sitter. Your love-life goes from sprawl to sprint before you can holler 'Go!'.... We on the same page?

 That's all to quote and unquote for now as Darwink* took a pee-break here. I'm waiting for him to return tonight(he's the third one in my marriage).

Lead kindly light...

Untill then,

go rehearse

First Crush

The throbbing stars

suds of soap

raised hope

of a shiny night.

Type-cast moon

like a vagabond

stealing light

from the curried glow

of the lamp post.

Rainy noons

and misty nights

take us up the

terrace steps

the drill…

first crush

gooseflesh

breezy chill

the look, the wave

and doe-eyed blush.

The distance

and the soul in it

the speechless talk

the flighty thoughts

that unattended

rolled in it

the puff of air

the cigarette smoke

across the chimney

and road between

the stealth, the flair

unheard, unseen

and oh!

the best friend’s envy.

Come back

and fill

the vacant spot

the curried dot

washed off

since long

and patted smooth

with spotless new

neem-clean buds

'Gin return to me
the vagrant moon

and starry suds.