Category Archives: Contests

Internet is fun

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Cast of Characters :

Phoenixritu, a 50 year old female

Kartikeya, a 20 year old youth

Walk ins : 3 dogs and a cat

Online : Various cousins

Curtain opens to reveal a double storey house, with Phoenixritu lying on her bed propped up by overstuffed cushions and bolsters on the lower level, and Kartikeya sitting flanked by dogs on the upper level.  The furnishing is modern and eclectic.  In the background, soft tones of Kandisa is playing, the sound emanating from the laptop..

The camera pans the scene and then focuses on the laptop and mobile lying next to the lady.  The youth picks up his phone and quickly punches some keys.  Downstairs the mobile next to Phoenixritu pings.  She picks it up and stares at the screen.

Message : I am still waiting for your move on Words with Friends

She looks up at the roof, and grins.  Then she pings back

I am miffed.  You said ABACINATE was not a word even though the app accepted it.

He laughs.  Then punches a few more words.  Her mobile pings again

Accha baba, sorry.  I checked it up on dictionary.com.  Now PLAY!!!

Phoenixritu shifts slightly in her bed and then opens the app on her phone and studies it.  She thinks a bit.

Meanwhile Kandisa loses its voice.  It is drowned by the thumping of some rock music from the first floor.  She plays her move and then switches her music off.  She plugs her phone to her laptop and goes online.

A Skype window opens :

Cousin ! from UK : Hey Ritu, what’s cooking?

Phoenixritu : I made dal with capsicum, something Monika posted on the web.  And I am thawing kheema, will make some mince cutlets.  What did you cook?

Cousin 1 from UK : Steak and kidney pie.

There is a short pause.

Phoenixritu : (Scowling) Show off!  Just because you guys in Glasgow have no power cuts and can bake all the time …. (Sniffs a bit) Anyway just post the recipe on your blog.

Cousin 1 : Pulling out her tongue : Jealous Cat! Stop being childish.  I will mail you the recipe.  So what’s up?  Kuch naya …

Phoenixritu : Picking up the sleeping cat and positioning it in front of the camera : This is news!  My new pet, her name is Arya!

Cousin 2 from Toronto: There I told you Didi.  Ritu has regressed into childhood.  She has once again started picking up strays.

Cousin Bro from Hong kong : Nah she was always chickish!

Phoenixritu : So?  My life, my house, my decision.  Big Deal!

Cousin Bro : Such a brat!  Grow up!

Phoenixritu : Growing Old is Mandatory

All cousins in a chorus : Growing Up is Optional

Cousin Bro : Yeah yeah we all know that one.  Bored of it.  Think of something new

Meanwhile the cat has had enough, wriggles out of her grasp and jumps on to the laptop. Phoenixritu screams and grabs the laptop and the phone before it hits the ground.  The net connection goes.

She lies on the bed, clutching the laptop an phone, looking shocked.  In a few minutes Kartikeya comes running down

Kartikeya : What happened?

Phoenixritu : Nothing.  The darn cat nearly killed my laptop and phone.

Kartikeya : Hongkong wala Mamaji said something happened to you and you screamed.

Phoenixritu : Sitting up and shaking her head dazedly.  Yeah disaster almost happened.  My phone nearly went.  My net, my games, my whatsapp, my twitter, my facebook, my mail.  I nearly died!

She shudders at the thought of disaster that could have happened.

There is a sound of something falling in the kitchen.

Both run to investigate.  

The cat has thrown the kheema (minced meat) which was on the slab thawing on to the floor.

All the dogs and the cat are happily sharing the meal.

Phoenixritu : Dont scare them.  Let me get my phone.  I have to take a pic and upload it on Facebook

Kartikeya : Ma, that was our dinner

Phoenixritu : What?  The photo is more important than dinner.  We can always reheat lunch.

Kartikeya : Sadly : Damn I wanted mince cutlets.  Dont forget to tag me on that photo

Phoenixritu : Sure.  I will also tag the cousins.

Kartikeya : By the way, I know you are cheating.  Where do you get words from.  Digamy … DIGAMY???  What does it mean anyway?

Phoenixritu : Second marriage after the death of your spouse.  You should research these words ….

-: Curtain falls :-

Isn’t Internet fun? For less than  Rs 200 a month, one can be connected to friends and family, get recipes, play games, and even connect the phone to a computer and access fast internet and unlimited browsing with the awesome Vodafone 3G speed. 

This post is for the Vodafone Internet Is Fun Contest www.vodafone.in/fun

ROMP ON THE BEACH WITH KYRA

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“2 women bloggers on an ‘exotic’ beach in the middle of June!  Can you imagine that?””

 

I looked at my son stuffing his mouth with his double cheese double meat patty and double everything burger enviously as my stomach did a flip flop in reaction to the food he was ingesting.  Damn!  Did I ever eat like that and still remain slim?

 

I popped a Digene into my mouth, his food was giving me acidity!

 

He considered this and glugged his soda.  “They are bloggers … so they won’t be hot stuff.  No offense Ma, but too much time on the computer makes the butt so – well so ‘not so hot!’”

 

Years of parenting has made me adept at ignoring unflattering observations from the cretin I have spawned.  So I ignored this and went back to the screen of my laptop and studied the Indiblogger contest announcement.

 

“Kyra will be there too!”

 

He perked up.  “Kyra who?”

 

I looked at him chomping on that burger, wrestled with my conscience and I won!  I said sweetly, “Kyra is my very good friend.  I met her online ages ago.  She has dark brown hair and eyes and a very curvy figure.  And she wears short dresses that flatter her erm … make her look oomphy!”

 

She was Elena first, now they've changed her name

 

He looked at me totally disbelievingly.  Then he did the unthinkable, he accused me of lying, almost

 

“You’re overdoing it Ma.”

 

I waved that away.

 

“What is more, she is an outdoorsy kind of person and she is offering me an all expense paid trip to the beach.  We’ll play beach volley ball and build sandcastles, sip pina coladas and ….”

 

He choked on it.  “Why?” He asked, “You are not the outdoor type.  You think the sun will give you wrinkles.”

 

Then he squinted his eyes and stared at my face.  “For your age, you don’t have many.”

 

I melted.  I am a sucker for flattery from my sons; they don’t compliment me very often.  I even forgave him for eating that horrendous burger so early in the morning, in front of me.

 

“That is because I don’t go out in the sun much and also because I read an awesome article years ago when you were two or three.  It gave me a lot of gyan.”

 

“Mumma come to the point.”

 

Okayy.  I admit I have become a tad bit long winded with age.

 

“Well apart from all the gyan it gave me the article was named “Wear Sunscreen”.  So I slather it on!”

 

“Sometimes you talk like a firang”, my irreverent spawn commented.

 

“No I don’t.  Long time ago people laughed at the NRI types who carried mineral water with them.  Slowly we came to understand that it was important to drink clean water and now we always carry a bottle of mineral water with us when we go out.  The same way sunscreen is important.  We get good Indian ones too, that don’t burn a hole in the wallet.  Like Lakme.”

 

“Where does your Kyra come into this?”

 

That stumped me a bit.

“Oh she wears Lakme sunscreen too, when she romps on the beach like one of those California beach babes.  It is one of those ….”

 

He read it off the screen of my computer “The Lakme Sun Expert Fairness + UV Lotion with SPF 50 gives complete UV protection to your skin, no matter how strong the rays are!   I must admit Kyra is gorgeous.”

 

I looked at him reproachfully.

 

“Bye Ma, all the best for the contest,” he said as he actually ruffled my hair very paternally.  I mean, I am the parent here!

 

I watched as he slung his bag on his shoulder and just then his phone rang.  He picked it up, winked at me and said, “Hey Kyra!  How are you doing?  Yeah I’m just moving out.”

 

I started at him open mouthed.  He covered the speaker with his hand and waggled his brows at me

 

“Romp on the beach with Kyra?” he whispered to me and walked out.

 

This blogpost is in response to the Indiblogger Lakme Diva contest www.facebook.com/ilovelakme

 

 

 

 

North East, Lap of Nature

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As a child nature and natural surroundings, the flora and fauna did not mean anything to me, it was background and ambiance for life.

 

In other words I was spoilt, as I grew up in surroundings people pay huge money to go and holiday in.  I was about eight when we got posted to Shillong.  Subsequently we lived in Kohima and then Imphal.

 

I remember the steep hills of Shillong where I had to march uphill to the convent I studied in, breathing in the pine and citrus laden air.  I remember weeping bitterly when one day my father walked down the road and some clouds came down and he disappeared into them.  I was scared the clouds had swallowed him.  I was/am some sort of a sleepwalker, only I do this rarely now.  Once I got out of my bed, walked out and slept on the grass in the lawn.  I opened my eyes to find the ground covered with frost.  I had fun stomping the crunchy frost.  Of course the parents were horrified and that was one time I got no sympathy for falling ill!

 

But the place I loved was Imphal – that is where I discovered my love for animals.  Imphal town is a valley, through which the Imphal river flows, the soil is black, rich in minerals and nutrients and very fertile.  When we just moved into our home, my mother along with the gardener pulled out chunks of canna from the lawn.  My mother loaded a whole lot of uprooted plants on a small go cart I had and told me to go to the edge of the forest and throw them.  I did.  Next rains we could see something red in the forests and went to investigate.  The cannas had flourished in the rains and were marching back to the colony.

Siroi Lily – the fragrance still lingers in my mind (Image sourced from Google)

And there were so many orchids of the most unusually bright colours, posting one such picture

Would you believe it, Ma grew these in our lawn?

I found flowers and trees my mother loved pretty tame, they did not play with you.  Animals did.  My brother and I collected strays at an astonishing rate.  My mother did not like animals but government homes allotted to my father were huge, and we kept the animals out of her way, and peacefully co-habited.  The previous resident of the house had constructed a pond in the backyard.  Ma got it cleaned and during the rains she got fish put in it.  It was a struggle initially to keep the fish alive, since frogs ate the fish lings, but soon we had a passable amount of fish for our meals.  But even these did not play with us.  We got a couple of kittens home at first.  Ma did not object much, and the kittens were fun.  They were so playful!  We soon got used to checking the curtains before pulling them, so as to avoid having a kitty fall on our head.  Women do not window shop as avidly as cats do.  Our cats spent hours staring into the pond, hoping that some fish would oblige them by jumping out of the water and into their mouths.

Then we got ourselves a pup, Coco.  He was a stray we found howling in the nearby jungle, he was such an adorable bundle of fur.  At first he was completely bullied by the cats in the house, who would smack him and then climb up the curtains or trees in the garden.  He was petrified by them, until he grew up.  One day it dawned on him that he was bigger than them and could fight back!  Then cat and dog wars occurred much to our delight – the frequency and intensity could have put Tom and Jerry cartoons to shade!  The dog would be sleeping lazily in the sun, and one or the other cat would creep upto him and either pull his tail or smack him on the face.  The dog would get up and chase the cat who would climb a tree and then tease him by stretching out on a branch and playing with the leaves.  The poor dog!  All he could do was scratch the tree trunk and bark angrily.

 

Coco grew up into a huge dog.  He was hefty and ferocious looking, but a very gentle soul!  When one of our cats gave birth to kittens, he decided that he was the Daddy and would play with the kittens for hours, and guard them from wild animals and strangers.

We lived quite close to the Imphal river – which is lovely.  Of course we had to deal with a lot of mosquitoes but that could not be helped!

 

My father had to go once and inaugurate a thermal power plant.  It was in the wilderness.  The ceremony was boring, the speeches more so.  We kids went wandering around the jungle and came upon a sleeping orange tabby.  Naturally we picked it up and brought it home.  It slept all the way home.  At home, our dog and cats first came to greet us, and then fled the moment they smelt it.  We did not know why, but when I tried to feed it, it attacked me.  In a few moments, my arms were covered with scratches and bites.  It was then that my father realized that it was a lion cub!  It was quickly put into a wooden crate, fed some raw meat and the next morning it was sent to the zoo.  I, or course, got tetanus shots.

Manipur has lush green forests, and of course a lot of wild animals.  The dangerous ones like snakes and scorpions and leeches one had to tolerate.  But playful creatures like sangai deer were a delight.  They had no fear of vehicles and would often race alongside us, and if they overtook, they would look back, as though egging us to hurry up and catch up with them. (Image sourced from Google)

 

A unique feature of Imphal is the Khwairamband Bazaar, also known as Ima Bazaar.  Each and every shopkeeper there is a woman (Ima means Mother). Everything you need, fresh farm produce, meat, fish, fruits and vegetables, honey, clothes and woolens are sold here.  I know this has nothing to do with nature – but since I was writing about Imphal, I felt the post would be incomplete without this picture. (Image sourced from Google)

What is beauty?

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Dove Real Beauty on Yahoo! India

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, says an old saying.  It is said that Laila was dark, skinny, with cracked lips and blackened teeth.  She had a tobacco and paan chewing habit.  But to the smitten Majnu, she was beautiful, and he gave his life up for her.

When I hear the term “Classic Beauty” I wonder.  Perception of beauty is a very subjective thing, and every country has its own ideal. And then there is the matter of personal taste. Some people may find a cine star lovely, others may find her too artificial.

So what is real beauty?  It took me almost a lifetime to get the answer.

As a child, I was one of those who can be called “cute” or “pretty”.  My father did not like that at all.  He was of the opinion that most good looking adults are shallow.  So high sounding phrases like “Beauty is as Beauty does” and “Cultivating the inner self” etc. became subject of discourse.  Not that it mattered to me.  I basked in admiration and developed into a vain girl.  Things come easy to pretty girls, which suited me, and I really liked the impression I created.

Thank God anorexia was not something we heard of then, otherwise, given the time I spent preening in front of the mirror, I was the right candidate for it.

As I grew up, I became interested in dramatics.  Of course, I accepted none other than the leading female role.  As I became proficient in emoting, I stared getting small jobs as a model and was offered a job as a leading actress in movies.  My mother thought the producer was sleazy and freaked.  She must have been right, he is not a big name and I never heard of any movie by a production house with that name. But I was young and over the moon!  That led to a lot of unpleasantness at home.  The parents disapproved, to put it mildly.  It had nothing to do with “inner self” and “moral fiber”.  Real beauty, as per my parents, had nothing to do with good features and fair skin.  That was just a genetic gift.

It had nothing to do with all the time I spent in front of the mirror and all the products I slathered on my self.  That was superficial, and not long lasting.  Oh, I resented their sermons and even laughed at this obsession with the inner self.

Now I am fifty plus, and life has taught me much, but has taken away that fresh cutesy look of yore.  Whatever claims I had towards attractiveness have been ravaged by time, and a lifetime’s worth of indulgence in food.  I look at myself in the mirror and see an old woman, with graying hair and an expanding girth.  So, does that make me ugly?

No, it does not.

When my sons hug me, snuggle into me and look me in the eyes, I see love.  It makes me feel beautiful.  When they say, “You are the best Mom” I feel lovely.  I want to look my best for them.

When my partner looks at me with loving eyes and says, “You look so wonderful” it makes me feel gorgeous, like a goddess, or like Helen of Troy.  I want to shine, to see the adoration in his eyes.

Perhaps my father spoke sense.  True beauty is something that emanates from some where inside a person.  And he really pushed me into developing the inner me.

But packaging is important too.  We do live in a world where impressions matter.  My beauty is real, it stems from the inner me, but I still spend time in front of the mirror and slathering products on my self.  It satisfies the inner me.

 

You can vote for this article here

This post is written for the Indiblogger and Dove Real Beauty Contest. Check out this contest people. The first prize is for Rs 1 Lakh. I think its the highest ever amount for blogging

Wagah Wagah Eh Eh This Time for India

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Wagah Wagah ey ey
Wagah Wagah Oh Oh
Show what you got on Wednesday

Wagah Wagah Hey Hey
Wagah Wagah Oh Oh
Show what you got on Wednesday

All Indians are raising
Their Expectations
Go on and feed them

Wagah Wagah Hey Hey
Wagah Wagah Oh Oh
Show us what you got on Wednesday

You’re all good players
Brave indomitable
Keep your spirit up
And annihilate their attack
Even tho it may be brutal

You’re on the frontline
The nation is watching
You know it’s serious
We’ve got to win this time
This isnt over

The pressure is on
You feel it
But you’ve got it all
Believe it

When you fall get up
Oh oh…
And if you fall get up
Oh oh…

Love our neighbour
Send them home
Do your best on Wednesday
Bring victory home
This time for India

Juta Hosla Badal Faisla
Badhale Tu Bindas Kafila
This time for India

Khel Jamale Kasam Uthale
Bajake Chutki Dhool Chatadhe
This time for India

Listen to your god
This is your moment
No hesitations
Wednesday is your day
I feel it
You paved the way
Believe it

If you get down
Get up Oh oh…
When you get down
Get up eh eh…

Juta Hosla Badal Faisla
Badhale Tu Bindas Kafila
This time for India

Khel Jamale Kasam Uthale
Bajake Chutki Dhool Chatadhe
This time for India

To be sung to the tune of Shakira’s This Time for Africa. The chorus is taken from the world cup theme song De Ghumake

We are all this – and more, We are the women of India

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The requirements for the Indusladies 2nd Annual International Women’s Day Blog Contest are as follows

We want you to blog about “A perspective on roles of Indian Women”. A Women plays a variety of roles in her life – daughter, sister, wife, daughter-in-law, mother, grand mother, employee and so on. Your blog post can address any particular angle with regards to those roles. Which role is the most important? Which role is she over-indexed on? Which roles limits her the most? Which role excites her the most? It can be a celebration, it can be a critique, it can be an aspiration, it can be an yearning, it can be anything.

With due respects, I have a big problem with the subject. Labels are so limiting and so are assigned roles.

Is a woman a sister? If so, then she only comes into her own when there is a sibling, and given the preference for male children in India, she only comes into her own neatly dressed and tying a rakhi on the wrist of a brother. Or perhaps someone whose honor a brother has to protect by fending away eve teasers. And given the sad truth of today’s India, someone, whose brother went too far and killed because that is just what she is to him, his honor! But that is not what a woman is. She is much more than that. She is a person, a real person who has as much right to live as her brother, and as much right to choice as he has.

Is a woman a daughter? Is she just that? Then she is just expense and a burden. Her poor parents would have to arrange for a huge dowry for her, get her married off to a “suitable” groom. Yes, they would have to buy a groom for her with that dowry … and then when the deal goes sour, they would have to keep sending her back to the house in which she is tortured by her greedy in laws. May be it won’t be that grim. May be she will be kept in comfort, even “allowed” to run the house for her in-laws, though they would strictly supervise her and monitor what she wears, how she cooks, where she spends her husband’s money, whom she befriends. After all, she is the “ghar ki izzat” And then the parents will be sad, since her visits to her parental house would be curtailed to a minimum, but they will console themselves by saying, “Daughters are paraya dhan, and they should let her be … since she appears to be happy at her in-laws”. No, daughters are much more than that, they are members of their birth family for life – and should be given equal rights and responsibilities.

A wife? Our shastras speak about a wife being an ardhangini, a valued partner. But is that the ground reality? A sex doll, a slave, a cook, a over worked home manager, and sometimes a punching bag. And if she is a working woman, an additional income to which she has no rights. I know of cases where a woman cooks for her stay at home in-laws, packs lunch boxes and then goes to work – and she does not even get to enjoy the money she earns, because her in-laws manage the budget of the house.

A daughter in law – well I have said what I have to in the para about daughters ….

A mother … hmmm You know what I heard once – A mother in law telling a daughter in law “Tu toh zameen hai, fasal jo upjegi, voh humari hai” Translation “You are just the soil, the fruit of your womb is ours not yours” Yes, this was my mother-in-law to me …. Is that true? Really? Of course not! But that is what the common perception is …

A grandmother – someone who is expected to serve, pamper, tell stories and other wise ignored.

No, I am not being negative. These are the ground realities in many situations. This is why I am against assigned roles. It is just like saying a man is expected to be a provider, and impregnate his wife and protect the honor of the women in his family. What if the man has a medical problem and cant produce babies?  What if he is unable to hold a job?  What if he is far away and God forbid, he can’t protect his women in danger? Does he stop being a man?

A woman is all of the above and more. She is the anchor of her home, she is someone who makes a home come alive. I have two sons, and believe me, my house became a home only after my son got married. The feminine touches, the giggles, the flowers in unexpected nooks, the shiny blue ribbon forgotten on a dining table – these are stuff that breathe life into a home.

A woman is the female energy that is needed to balance the world which is – right now undervaluing it completely. We worship goddesses but do not respect the same female form when we see it in real life. Yes we are women, Wives, Mothers, Daughters etc … but that is not all we are. We need to look beyond and truly believe, we are more. We are 50% if not more of the population of humans in this world, without us the world can not function. So let us not limit ourselves. We have important strengths

* mental strengths, such as the instinct to manage scarce resources

* identity strengths, which maintain strong values under pressure

* emotional strengths, such as anticipating the effects of decisions

* relational strengths, with an emphasis on win-win solutions

These have nothing to do with roles. These have everything to do with being a woman.

I tag the following

Monika Manchanda

Indian Home Maker

Shail

Indusladies 2nd Annual International Women’s Day Blog Contest

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It has been a long time since Jey Ilyempandi who owns Indus Ladies (a forum for women) and I conversed. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a mail from him today asking me to help spread the word about a Women’s Day blog contest. Older followers of the blog may remember that I had moderated a Mother’s Day contest for him a few years back.

I don’t know what I normally do on Women’s Day apart from bitch. No, I am not a feminist, I just think that the current equation between the two sexes is badly skewed in favor of men. Not fair ….

Dear readers follow the link to the contest. Do participate. I intend to, since it offers a cash prize of Rs.10,000/- Heck, now I have something to look forward to on Women’s Day apart from an annual bitch fest!

Yup, I am participating.

Science of Adjust and Jugaad

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This is India. Women of India function with two great tools, Jugaad and Adjust. I guess if you give Jugaad a good hard look it turns out to be the cousin of Adjust. As a woman one encounters Adjust often enough. Somehow women are viewed as brainless and malleable. We are stuff to be moulded, and if we protest, then we are suppressed strongly.

So what is Adjust? It is something a girl child learns very early in life. I learnt it when I was six and was trying to stand on my head with my legs waving in the air. My frock was around my tummy and my panties were in full view. My shocked mother ran out of the house and hauled me indoors for a lecture. I was a girl and I had to adjust. I could not behave like my brother and cousins. Ma said, “Little girls have to be tamed so that they can grow into good women.” That is also the first memory I have of jugaad. I implemented it. I started wearing my brother’s shorts.

Jugaad as per urban dictionary :To arrange for something that will help accomplish a particular task.

Hindi: Yaar woh website ka login chaheye, kuch jugad lagao!

English: I need a login to that website, do some jugad

As per Wikipedia “Jugaad” is also a colloquial Hindi word that can mean an innovative fix, sometimes pejoratively used for solutions that bend rules, or a resource that can be used as such or a person who can solve a vexatious issue.

As I grew up, I started encountering “Adjust” in all spheres of life. I could not fly kites, play football or cricket, even marbles and gilli danda. These were games I loved. I hated hop scotch, cowries and other girly games. But I had to adjust, I was a girl. Jugaad came to my rescue. I went out with the girls but then slipped away to play boys’ games. Curfew was set at 6 p.m. for me, I learnt how to climb walls and jump in from windows or climb up to the roof.

Marriage happened, and I still continued to be … well, me! In-laws screamed at me, got husband to scream at me too. I was a daughter in law and could not wear jeans, sleep late, had to cook their meals or wash their clothes, (all this prior to reaching the school I taught in early in the morning). I hired cooks and servants as jugaad. Sigh, in-laws love to preach but don’t like to practice. I hired, they fired and the slanging match continued. Then they wanted me to give up my job. I did the ultimate jugaad. I chose to live separately. What can I say? That did not work either.  I had too many issues by then, and he thought he was doing me a big favor by granting me the permission of setting up my own home.

Well “Adjust” only works if both sides adjust. Otherwise it is just a pretty name for suppression. The moment someone says “Adjust” I hear sirens of ambulances or fire engines. My mind starts working overtime, looking for a suitable jugaad.

I have a question I’d like to ask every person who has asked his spouse to adjust or tried to get a high spirited daughter to adjust. Why do we educate girls, empower them to think for themselves, earn and compete with boys if we want them to be tethered to outdated customs? Why do we give them half-freedom? We tantalize them with a whiff of fresh outside air, and then say, “No, you can’t take a touring job”, or (as in my case) “You can go to work, but you will have to cook breakfast and pack lunches for every one, including your stay-at-home mother in law, and the two dogs, before you go to school at 7 a.m.”

Other strictures of the ‘adjust” kind include, “You have to cover your head in front of male members of the house”, “You have to wait until every one has eaten and then eat”, “You have to turn in all the money you earn” etc etc.

And then they say that women are sly. You made us compete with boys, you made us believe we are equal (of course we are!) and then you tell us ADJUST!

Of course we are sly! We have had to lie, manipulate, coerce, use wiles to even breathe that fresh air that you of the previous generation tantalized us with.

Women’s Web has organized a contest entitled The Great Adjustment Story and has also given us 3 Adjustment Stories. Do check them out.

This post won the second prize in the Women’s Web Contest.

Thanks Women’s Web!

What Men Want

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Go to www.myntra.com and check out t shirts for men! Also visit the
largest community of Indian Bloggers at BlogAdda.com

I actually researched for this blogpost! In simpler language, it means that I asked my sons what they want in life ….. (and from the ladies in their lives! :P ) Damn, the replies were interesting!

1. Peace and quiet …. humph! Considering that both the women in the house go out to their respective offices, the only noise in the house is made by them and them dratted dogs.

2. A simple life. Now this one was a hoot. A simple life means a 70 inch TV in the bedroom, with Sports on, beer and chicken tangri on the side. Oh yes, the wife and mother are not allowed to get to the remote.

3. Men want to scratch their balls without their women cribbing about it. Yes, it is a physical problem and they are dealing with it in the only way it has to be dealt with, so look the other way ladies!

4. Men understand that their women are not little girls. They can open doors and even put the toilet seat down when they need to use the loo. Stop cribbing.

5. While on the subject of cribbing, men would like it very much if they asked a girl “How was your day?” and get a one word reply “Fine!”

6. Men think that today’s women are strong, bold and beautiful. They would not mind it if they also paid for some of the meals they ate together. While on the subject of independence men want a woman who is not demanding, does not get clingy all the time, has her own life and likes it that men do too.

7. Men would like the woman to not nag, which means that not comment about the weight gain, back seat drive or even doubt their ability of getting anything done.

8. Ultimate desire for male equality ….. GPS in a male voice.

9. Men would like to be able to buy the latest Gizmo without having to explain to their women why they need it.

10. WWE and TNA is not Neanderthal. It is sport. Guys would like ladies to please understand that.

11. Men want women to learn how to accept compliments. If a man says that you are looking hot, the reply is not, “Oh, but I have put on weight”, or, “Oh but this color is so dull.” The correct reply is “Thank you”.

12. The only thing that looks good on the German Shephard is a collar with spikes. Do not dress up the dog in a cute poncho or make it wear ear rings and tiara.

13. Shorts and tanktops in the bedroom=Ossumness, second only to wearing skin and a wide smile. No granny nightgowns please

14. Porn is good for mental and emotional health. Do not make a face.

15. Men want to be able to check out the hot stuff in the room without their partner throwing a hissy fit. It is just like window shopping for women. They are just programmed that way.

16. Please pick up some recipes from my Mom! (This one is from the foodie in the Phoenix House aka Kid#2)

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This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14; the fourteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

It was Saturday night and Param was getting dressed.  His mother came into the room and said, “Dont go out today, I have a bad feeling.”  He grinned at his reflection as he ran a comb and put on some perfume, “What bad feeling Ma?  I swear you’ve started behaving like those news reports, its all doom and gloom … bad economy, floods and earthquakes!”  She looked at him sadly and said “Beta, I keep getting scared that one day you will go out, and then you’ll never return.”  He smiled and kissed her on her forehead “Ma, I’m just going to a party, that’s all.  I’ll return, I am like a khota sikka (counterfeit coin), no one wants to keep me, they just return me back”.  His mother sighed and watched him go.

Param was a typical Delhite, young and a party animal.  He forgot his mother’s anxiety the moment he drove the car out of the lane.  He was young, single and it was his time to party, have fun.  He met a group of friends and they went to a discotheque and wined and danced the night away.  At about three in the night, he along with his best friend Sikand and Sikand’s fiance Richa left the party.  The plan was to drop Richa home and then return to drink and party some more.

They left the disc and hit the highway.  A Gypsy stopped their car.  A man got out and said in an officious tone  ”We are a special task force from the Delhi police.  We need to do some investigations, follow us.”  Param remembered his mother’s anxiety.  He was scared.  He protested “Ask us your questions here itself, we will not come with you.”  The man looked at them coldly and said, ” You have to come with us.  You have no option.  We need a lady police woman to ask the woman questions.  Do you want me to send a police man to interrogate her?”

Sikand was drunk and he was shaking.  He said “Param don’t get difficult, let us follow them”.  Richa was sobbing, she said “I dont want a police man in our car.  I want to return home safe.”  Param had some misgivings but he reluctantly started following the Gypsy.  He saw another car following them at a safe distance.  He felt trapped.  He kept wishing he had listened to his mother.

They were taken to an abandoned stretch on the Gurgaon road and ordered to get out of their car.  They complied.  The man took out a pistol and placed it on Param’s head and said “You want to return home?  Hand me your licence and any other identification you carry.”  Param said “I dont carry a drivers licence.”  ”The car’s registration papers?” asked the man.  Param reluctantly gave the car’s registration papers.  The man took Sikand’s and Richa’s identifications.  Richa was crying “Please let me go home”.  He said softly “Go!”  They quickly got back into the car and returned home.  Once the boys dropped Richa, they tried to make sense out of this strange theft.  They then, just to be on the safe side, went to the police station and registered a case of theft of their papers.

They did not want to remember the incident, but the incident returned to haunt them after a week.  They were called by the police.  The police took both the boys to a place in Rohtak.  A woman’s body was found, shot twice and the face was badly disfigured.  The car in which the body had been found had Param’s car’s number plate.  The dashboard had Sikand’s drivers licence and the hand bag of the murdered lady had Richa’s I.D.

“God! It is going to be difficult for us to return home easily now” thought Param, badly shaken.

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