Why I love my Laali

Laali: I was watching Spartacus...

Pyaali: What men na!

Laali: I thought it was more about the script and the casting and the making!

Pyaali: I mean, they wear these little costumes, and they have such toned legs!

Laali: You mean, meat shops!

Pyaali: Nai buddhu! The legs, ahem, you know a man does all the kick-starting with his legs.

Laali: Why would you correlate kick-starting activity with a TV series? Stop reading Cosmopolitan! 

Pyaali:  let me be clear. After CENTURIES of men looking at my tits in stead of my eyes and pinching my ass instead of shaking my hand, I now have the *DIVINE* right to stare at a man's legs with vulgar, cheap appreciation if I want to!

Laali: Stop quoting movies. 

Pyaali: I can't drool over legs. Can't quote movies. Can't play my drums loud. Can't laugh out loud in a quiet coffee shop. Can't do the skippity dippity whack-over, check my arse rabbit jump! What is allowed?

Silence. Silence. Silence. 

Laali: Biatch! Go get me a cup of coffee. 

P.S. Please note that the "skippity dippity whack-over, check my arse rabbit jump" is subject to copyright issues. :D

The smells. The sights. & The survival.

No playing a female version of Shanta ram here. But sights and sounds are the alpha vital components of every day living . Sitting on the fifth floor of my work place, I inhale in the familiar smells of the furnishing as well as the coffee fumes which is a permanent fixation. I gaze down at the vehicles moving about in a rush. A car is trying to take a left diversion. A pedestrian is ambling on absent-minded, unwary of the cluster piling up on her way. A biker trying to squeeze through the little vacant spaces. There, a car nearly brushed a truck and now there could be brawl. 

From the 5th floor

Taking a top-angle view at the present moment could be uplifting. It makes me feel like God. Maybe because, each one of us is scrambling in the dark, trying to find an immediate solution or fixation to the problem on our hand. We just want to clear things off our tables and end our long stretched ordeals, so that we could go back home and watch a match or do the chatter-chatter with friends. Every day we enter our confinements, with a single point agenda-survival. 


It's like watching a bunch of teenagers enter a deep jungle. And you are gorging on popcorn and biting your nails off to watch them emerge out of that shit hole. You want them to. ( I sometimes stand up in the theater and yell things at the actors on the screen, embarrassing my friends) . You are willing to contribute. To think it out. To reason. And the survival happens. It makes you a happy person. And you go home content, like you have saved this billy from the crutches of death.


So, yes, coming back to the sights and sounds, it's the whiff of coffee, it's the familiar air freshener around your desk or even the mouth-watering spells of pav bhaji  made on a bandi outside your work place. It's the work-place buddy whom you are very fond of. Or the familiarity of your mail box or the pin-up of your work desk that you really worked hard at! (Yeah, I know I am being a drag., I get pretty excited when I write..a que for insancefckr...*blushes*). But it's the sights and sounds that amble us on, that give us those little connecting moments in between chaos. Survival could be deemed a huge monster term ( he he, got ya!) but, isn't it an everyday process, that gives us some hands-on experience!