Letter to the Delhi Hooligan

Dear Delhi Hooligan,

Congratulations on your new hooliganism.

Just when we think we have seen the worst of your atrocities, there you are with another unimaginable one to shock us. You never seem to limit yourself. You have managed to stretch way beyond the limits of the most heinous evil that could put even Satan to shame. Three cheers to you for your fearlessness. Leave alone the fear of law or the police; you are not even fearful of challenging the very basis of humanity. As I along with every other Indian pray and wish, that from now on you just have the most abominable 'what you can no longer even call life'. I can’t start to imagine how aggravated or frustrated you must be and what a liability your life must be on this planet to even start thinking of something which you have done. Any person who knows you even remotely must be so disgraced and embarrassed. How suicidal your parents or spouse must feel. Hope you did not beget any monsters as yourself; we are struggling to eradicate you and your likes in the first place.

Though I still fail to understand what you seek. If it is only about your carnal needs, we could give you some alms. In fact, we could have a hooligan fund where you could draw from, whenever you have the 'urge' rather than running around like a maniac. Go ahead, take some charity and find somebody willing, go, shoo....

Dear Delhi hooligan, your nuisance on the roads and at public places was enough for me to despise Delhi. Sometimes you were in the guise of the rich Delhi brat who shot me for not serving liquor or you shot me because I asked you to pay the toll. At other times, speeding in your drunken state, you decided to slaughter my life which you thought cheap. You robbed me outside the malls, you pinched me on the bus, you winked at me while I was in the market or you passed a lewd remark when I was simply walking on the street. I fail to understand what pleasure you get from doing any of that when I don’t even show any remote sign of appreciation for any of your action. Wouldn't your efforts be better spent at someplace where they would be better admired? I don't know if you are the person standing next to me in the metro or the auto driver. I don't know if you are the vegetable vendor or the person at the ticket counter. How many people can I mistrust?  

All thanks to you and the lack of justice to the growing numbers like yours, I hate to be called a Delhiite, an Indian.

Story of Uselessness

Some things are just so useless. So useless that you seriously and sincerely wish if you could do something to wipe them out.

While traveling on the metro, there are some stations where people neither board nor disembark, ever. And these are exactly the stations where the doors seem to be taking the maximum time to open and then close. This is when you wish that there was an intelligent metro system which wouldn't stop at a station if there are no takers.

Then after waiting for ages in the immigration queue, when you’re finally in front of the immigration officer, he seems to be endlessly staring at your passport picture and then your face, your face again and your passport as if matching the color of your kohl in the picture and now. Can we have biometric systems in place to identify us if identity is all these officers are concerned about?

We have people who at the toll will be arguing for 20 something rupees and seem to have all the time in the world. Why can’t we just have a crane pick up these cars along with these people and put them straight behind the bars?

There are people at the bite counter at the movies who would wait till it’s their turn and only then bother to think about what they want to order. They have the insensitivity to not only gaze at the menu for the longest time but call up their partners in crime to discuss the order. Can we just throw them out of the queue?

There are people who want to take elevators for even a single floor. Can we just have some mechanism where the elevators don't move people across one  floor and rather push them to the stairs?

There are people who send emails without a subject or with subjects which make no sense whatsoever. Why should anyone look at your email if you wouldn't tell me the contents? Can we have email audits or universities teach students about effective email writing?

Well, the story of uselessness can just go on forever. Different perspectives, different uselessnesses.  

Would you rather come for my cafe?

What makes people walk into a congregation? What motivates them to rather participate in a session during the time which they would otherwise be reading the newspaper or catching up with the grapevine?  What makes them leave the warmth of their chairs while sipping a steaming coffee and walking into a room full of strangers to hear about something which they have no clue about?

Could it be personal enlightenment?  

Is it the realization that the need of the hour is to learn something new, constantly?

These are the questions I ask myself every time at the end of each of our cafes.  We borrowed and customized the café concept from Gurteen. It’s not a lecture and it’s definitely not training. It’s about experts casually conversing about some areas of their expertise or about the lessons learnt during a series of projects which they were part of. The experts are more than willing to please and the participants are always more than what we estimate.

We never send out any personal invites or meeting requests but the idea is to send open invitations where people feel free to walk into the venue, pull a chair, hear the expert and by the end of the session share a cup of coffee with the expert and network. So each time at the beginning of every session, we are nail biting and anticipating whether people will turn up or not and (at least till now) it ends up with all of us running around to arrange for additional chairs.  It’s been working out well for us. We have an enthused participation without any compulsion, bonus or relation to KRAs. Perhaps at the end of the next session, we could interview people and ask them what motivates them to be there.   

Time no matter no more, worry no matter no more.

Years, days, minutes, seconds...how irrelevant. As humans we are most comfortable with living within slices of time. And surprisingly it governs everything we do or don't. We reward or punish ourselves in terms of time. And due the milestones which we attach with time, we worry ourselves to death if we don't comply.

After my first diving experience today, it's clear. There is a world where it doesn't matter what age you graduate or if you don't have a job till you're 25 or if you're not married until very late in life or if you haven't had a baby even though your biological clock is speeding away. It doesn't matter if you're beautiful, wealthy or successful. It doesn't matter if your job is sickening or if you have worries that seem to weigh you down all the time.

All that matters in the under water world are the untouched wonders. You start a lifetime experience with a lot of hesitation. But the moment you start to feel what awaits you, you just get it right. To begin with,the moment I had my head under the water for the 1st time, I thought I was short of breath or would stifle but the instructor brought me to the surface for some air and (thankfully!) almost pushed me back again and this time baby I wasn't to give up. 

Its a world of unbelievable colours and life. Life that is so pristine, so vibrant and so real. Nothing matters, just nature, reality and I. I tried to touch so many new things but it seemed to tell me "you can only see, not touch." 

When I was finally out, I was quiet for a long time trying to believe all the beauty I'd seen in a single day. It seemed I was in the water for only 10 minutes but I was stunned to know that I was gone for 30. 

Seriously, Time no matter no more, worry no matter no more. 

Highway on my Pot

While having my dinner today, I was watching Rocky and Mayur's 'Highway on my Plate' and I especially like their show since they snitched the idea that I have always had. The soul of any place is its food. So I had this idea of hosting a travel show where I (a hardcore vegetarian) and Sumit (a more than a hardcore non vegetarian) search for a place's soul through its foods. So we go around searching for how can a vegetarian and non vegetarian survive in this place. 

But no, I don't think I can host this kind of show anymore. 

These guys were in Puri, Orissa. Doing what? Of course they were hogging and hogging and hogging and hogging. And seeing them hog quashed all my dreams of ever nearing such a show ever. 

After my brisk walking session and now relishing my only protein lightly salted dal dinner, my eyes were not prepared to see what I was seeing them do. I cannot subject myself to heaps of glutton glazed in slimy looking oil and slimier spices. There was a heap of rice that sat innocently on their leaf plates soon to change colors as it was bathed in red fiery sinful oily curries, on one's plate there was a vegetarian variety and the other was a non vegetarian. Can't even start to imagine the harm it would do once inside their systems. And as if the main course assault wasn't enough, there were the desserts. Huge rasgullas and gulabjamuns or a mixture of these fallen in the unrighteous extra sugary syrup. I have seen the guys gorge white flour snacks and sweets from different cities, in numerous shows, which are fixed in no other way but deep fried to give you enough piles on the hips.   

I have nothing against Rocky and Mayur, in fact I think they are really good entertainers and more than anything really brave. Subjecting their health to so much torment and yet maintaining a great sense of humor but I pray they are staying away from getting a highway on their respective pets (tummies).

I am now starting to think of a travel show to search for healthy foods in different cities. What say ;-)          

Content?

So the toughest part of any job is to make people understand what you do unless of course you are the CEO.

As for me, I work with content and I work on content and that is so exciting. Every professional in each industry generates content all the time. And still if all this content is not effectively understood, presented, managed, stored, preserved or used…it ends up being reused only by the author in another organization since in the same organization people either do not know that such content ever existed or cannot search for it.

The key for an engineer, doctor, designer, lecturer, writer, strategist, consultant or any other professional is to manage the content which they are generating. It is a critical skill. And content is not only the written word but it is communication in any form. So when people are making videos or recording audios in board rooms, they are actually working on content.

Any person who specializes in content needn't be a remarkable writer but a person with a deep understanding of how communication in any industry can be best captured, presented, searched and made reusable. Before starting to work on generating any content, follow the We, Them and I model.

Start with the ‘we’ of the content - Your target readers and peer group. Structure the content in a way which will be best understood by the ‘we’ group and structure it in the best way that they are to understand. Use terminology which is best understood by your peer group.

Then its them - an unknown audience who may later use your content. Which means your content should be reusable and should also be easily searchable. That also means no reference to people by names, if any, but with their designations/ roles.     

Lastly its I - The last you have to think is ‘I’. And think of I when you start to create the content and are done of thinking about what goes as content. It also means that your content should be free from personal prejudices or opinions. 

Tendencies are usually to focus on the ‘I’ primarily, then ‘we’ and perhaps never think of ‘them’ while creating content. The thinking usually goes - If it appeals to me, it must appeal to my audiences. If you aren't good with user experiences, take feedback from your audiences rather than making those risky assumptions or presumptions. 

We are just not used to seek what we want to find in surroundings which we usually get easily

Recently I read Brad Pitt finds Varanasi staggering. Ashton Kutcher will pose as if spellbound with Vrindavan. Now what exactly are we missing here?

Either these people are too media intimidated to say the truth or wear a special pair of shades, which we Indians are clearly devoid of coz, honestly, all I find these places to be is – only- filthy. And this when I am already used to the rubbish and chaos of metros and everybody’s insensitivity towards it. Come to think of it, not even one person around me is bothered about my peace, the one honking relentlessly or the one trying to break the queue or the one with the most screeching ringtone ever or making the loudest conversation ever. Each person around me is just so not bothered.

What next? Do I book myself to a tranquil holy city holiday hoping it to bring me peace for a few days?

Visit to the holy cities is tormenting. Touts, muck, conmen, holy men haunting you for money… even the slightest thought of peace or anything enchanting cannot touch me. You just want to get out of the place sooner than you came in. Try closing your eyes for a few seconds to chant, the commotion and the fear of being pick pocketed is so overwhelming, that you can’t even feel what the place is or ever was. I am sorry but I cannot pretend to get into a trance or appreciate anyone who has gotten into it after seeing urine, shit and the unfathomable stink from the holy waters. I am no Naipaul but I cannot overlook the obvious. Small conveniences are still so inconvenient, shockingly, considering we are such a powerful economic dynamo.    

On the contrary, I feel peace is where all the westerners hail from. Open clean spaces, nature, cool breeze and silence can give you tranquility and beauty like nothing else. So if they really say the truth about India, they find here what we cannot and we find there what they cannot.

Perhaps we are just not used to seek what we want to find in surroundings which we usually get easily.   

Money, money, money, must be funny, in the rich man's world…

I was confused to hear a moving speech by a friend recently the subject of which was “I want to make money, loads of money. People are doing nothing and making money.”

And it confused me because I started to think why does this person want to make money?

Now don’t give me the ‘is she mad’ look. Of course everybody wants to make money isn’t that obvious? And I know the argument that money buys comforts and to be happy in a country like India you need comforts around you all the time. Do we hear Mukesh Ambani complain of the traffic or Mr. Mittal crib over the power cuts?

But what I was wondering was if this friend wants more money just because everybody else wants it or is there a clear plan as to when, what and how. I think he was doing what most of us do, which is, we have a tendency to follow the brood, without reason and devoid of logic. We think it's the brood and masses are not wrong, so simple isn't it, just follow it. So now I request you to give a minute and honestly think of all the situations that made you happy in the last 10 days.

Your time starts now…

Think, think, think…think hard. Yes, made you happy in the last 10 days.

Good. How many were situations where money made you happy?

As for me, I have definitely been happy on my birthday last week but my happiness didn’t have anything to do with (you guessed it right) anything material. I had many friends and family wishing me and I was truly overwhelmed. I had my facebook page flooded with wishes and all of it had nothing to do with money. I was so happy to interact with some really expressive children who, unfortunately, cannot communicate due to a physical limitation but they communicated with me beautifully. And guess what, no money for that as well. I went for TEDx and heard some really good speakers and that made me a happy person. At work, one of our campaigns got a really good response and I was happy for that (and yes I get my salary but even if the campaign would have been a failure, I’d still be paid).

So perhaps you could argue that buying something really expensive had made you happy, the feeling to be able to afford. Of course it does. But my problem with that and especially in these times is that things are changing so constantly. Just as we are reveling in the pleasure of our new possession there’s already a new edition to make us feel bad. There is no end there…

And my second question is “how much money do you want to make?” and if you are able to give me a number, excellent.  But once you get that number, assure me you won’t change it and ask for more. And also, you won’t ask for health, luck or protection. And you will tell me how did you get to that number and also your plan with that money and will you guarantee me that you will be happy forever after you make that money and not be chasing another brood?

As we grow, our mind gets cluttered. So perhaps it’s simple. I think we just need to unclutter, sit back and reconnect with some basic meanings of happy, health, want, need, desires and money (as individuals and not as a brood) and rethink about what we really want and in what proportions.

A place called home...

Words confuse me.

No, seriously.

Now take for example the word home. The dictionary throws meanings like shelter or, interestingly enough, the place in which one's domestic affections are centered or as they famously say, home is where the heart is. Even a tree can provide shelter but that's not home. And the plush room of an ultra-luxurious 5 star hotel will definitely be a place where my affection will be centered, domestic or undomestic I don't care, but that's not home either.

So in my quest to understand the meaning of home, I asked myself: At the end of a tiring day, where is it that I look forward to reach?

Obviously, the answer is home but why?

Do I have a spa waiting at home or a red velvety carpet that will lead to a king sized squashy bed and soft pillows that will devour me along with my fatigue? I wish there was but none of that is the reason I want to reach home.

So first of all, when I head back home, I look forward to see an affectionate and smiling face with whom I can discuss my tiny and honest details of the day. It’s the space where I can be with no formalities or rules. The place which is comfortable and soothing and not necessarily huge, plush or has the most expensive interiors which I can exhibit to my friends and foes. If that was the case, the best home would be the premium luxury deluxe hotel rooms. Remember after a long vacation, we still look forward to come home. It's a place where I find relief, the same kind of relief which I find after applying an ice pack on a burnt finger or after having received an unexpected bank interest when am almost broke.

I now understand that home is a place of peace, relief and comfort irrespective of the number of rooms or the exquisite and costly interiors. It's a place where we feel grounded and content. We create a home and cannot buy it. It is not a hotel and it needn't be a palace. If there is no peace, comfort or relief, even the most spacious and opulent homes will feel like a prison and we will just keep running away from it either for frequent and relaxing holidays or in search of better homes.   

The tragedy of an ignored king

So once lived this person called Content. Content was always told that he’s the king. Wherever he went, he was told that he is an important person and also a versatile person. Content dressed as words, video or audio and in any form was still the king. And Content appeared all over the place; newspapers, websites, television, documents and everywhere and helped strangers communicate without meeting or relay important messages and information over different mediums.  

But then people ignored him.

“What kind of a king am I?” thought Content, “always ignored and left alone. I’m always told that I am important but hardly feel important. People grapple for me when needed and then as easily forget about me when not needed. I am so powerful that I can change the fate of people, organizations and even countries. I get created in minutes and last beyond my creators and I travel as easily. I know no boundaries and take seconds to get from one medium to another. To be understood, I only need the help of a language but that too is my closest ally with the help of technology now.  I can affect the masses, change trends for the lasses (there, Content gets carried away) and ensure, over generations, history passes and still I am ignored.

People don’t know have the skill to create a wonderful me and still are creating me. They don’t realize that creating me is serious business. They create me without knowing the power I have so they copy me from here and there and put me together haphazardly. I can make such great impact if only people knew my value and handled me in a mature way. Managing me requires  logic, structure, understanding, articulation, creativity and thought. And most importantly, one has to build me for the intended audience and not for yourself. Create me intelligently and skillfully and then see what impact I have. I am all pervasive, so any field (no matter how critical) which fails to capture me skillfully, fails. I need skillful management and clarity. Treat me like a king and I can promise astounding results”     

Impatient, restless, aggressive or just expecting more?

It is quite amazing how impatient we now are. I am not here to discuss the hazards of technology on the human race but I can’t help but notice. And I notice this each day... 

I impatiently hit the ‘end key’ on my Blackberry the moment it starts to misbehave. Few seconds of its inactiveness is enough to get me impatient and restart it. And as soon as it restarts, I want it to be working perfectly or I could restart it again. I want calls to instantly connect. A few waiting tones are enough for me to assume that there has to be something wrong with the network or the telecom ministry.

Not that laptop is the favored one. The reason could be any hefty application but the laptop still bears the brunt as it is made to forcefully shut and come back to life as fast. And the rate at which the tapping of my fingers or feet tap increases is directly proportional to the time that the machine takes to restart. I want websites to open at the blink of an eye and if they don’t then I am quick enough to repair my internet connection or restart my router. I quickly disconnect and connect LAN cable and log calls with the IT team. And till the problem is resolved, I feel I shall miss something critical, work shall suffer, I will miss my deadline and my entire world will come shattering down.

I have lost the patience to see fancy flash websites. The F5 is the most exploited key as I ruthlessly vent my impatience out on it. I want google to throw intelligent results. I want banking transactions to happen with a click and wish that there weren’t as many passwords. I want quick music downloads and the favorites I have on my laptop should get transferred on my mobile as fast and what is on my mobile should effortlessly play in my car. I want to browse the net and check my mails while am on the move. And I want to click pictures and upload them right away (as if it were milk which could be stale the next day). I wish I could have an ipad for books, music and videos at my fingertips, anytime, anywhere.

I want all channels on my television. If I don’t have the 432^nd channel, then my digital TV operator is obviously crappy (even though that 432^nd channel is not expected to get more than 34 seconds of my divided attention).

Call it impatience or expecting more but what I am wondering is whether we control technology or is it the other way? 

Humans are Complicated

Humans are complicated, have always been.

So my name is Twitz and I am a splendid sparrow. I am free, free to breathe, free to fly wherever I want, whenever I want. I have my palatial palace nested on one of the sparse trees in an industrial locality of Gurgaon. The city is supposedly called millennium world class city but I fail to see why. All it has is tall towers, unmanageable cars and traffic, smoking generators, broken roads and frustrated people. Not that the humdrum of Delhi is any better. But in Delhi we share one tree between 5 bird families and here I have it all to myself.

And my nest overlooks one of the cabins of a swish office. The cabin, with all the modern day amenities, seems like the most comfortable place. If only it didn't seem so confining, perhaps I would have liked to stay in it. There's this middle aged man who's, on most of the days, quite well dressed already occupying the cabin. It must really be comfortable for he spends more time there than his nest. But I don't understand, if the cabin happens to be so homely then why is this man frowning all the time? Early morning, he walks in, with the most grievous expression and has it glued on his face all day. He screams at all the seemingly meek young people and is shouted at by some more grievous overpowering men and women. He screams on his telephones and even screams at the person serving him coffee. Why should he be so unhappy? What is so troubling in his life? Doesn't he have the power to change what makes him unhappy? I can't imagine waking up to so much bitterness each day and taking it back to my nest only to come back next day with it.

So on one of the fine evenings, it started to rain and with it nature exuded its fresh fragrances. I lay warm in my nest with my family drawing in the freshness, the innocence and sheer liveliness. And then I saw him but this time with a different expression. He was leaning by the window, and staring longingly at my nest. He was almost crying and had sadness in his eyes. Did he envy me? Was he wanting to feel the rain, freedom or just be happy? Why wouldn't he do something about it? Did he dislike the confines of his cabin or swish office? Did he not like the people around him? I wish I could ask and help him but I dare not. 

All I would say is that humans continue to remain truly complicated.        

Some manners....please!

I have nothing against Kavands. In fact I have nothing against any rituals/ rites/ beliefs, no matter how illogical they seem. Each one has a different belief system and each one also has the complete freedom to believe what they like. When people believe, no questions.

So for those who didn't see the devoted saffron dressed kavands, perhaps you were lucky to have evaded the traffic which was caused due to them. But then it is commendable that they travel bare footed to Haridwar to get holy waters and offer it in their local temples. That needs a lot of devotion.

But my question is very simple. Does religion give us the right to be rowdy, crude and insensitive? I have seen, not once or twice but every year, how the kavands gape at women and hoot. Some of them riding on bikes think it as their birth right to break traffic rules and the ones herded on lorries are driving anywhere and at any pace. The traffic police and people are very supportive of them so at every corner you find these generous camps serving food and water to the kavands (excellent but let's not even get to the mess that is left after the kavands are satiated and leave). And you can't miss these camps as they play loud music (the latest bollywood cheapies tranformed to bhajans). And some generous people get innovative, they line up at the corner of the road and wait for the arrival of Kavand lorry / bikes and as soon as they find one they start throwing food items while the kavand lorry slows down in the traffic (and thanks to these generous people only who cause the traffic in the first place). And so what if some food gets dropped on the road during their throw and catch game. And the kavands, after gorging on their catch, throw the waste where? Obviously on the roads. So an arduous religious journey gives them the right to treat the roads and highways as dustbins? Some even aim to throw it at a particularly big and swanky car and the entire kavand group gags on any such feat.

I respect you kavands and other beliefs but as far as I am concerned, no religion, no god or no ritual gives you the right to say or behave filthy or create filth. You can't be doing this in the name of religion.

Can we just learn some manners first and then get to the great religious assignments? 

Hi, have you met yourself?

We as a society and culture are still so alien to taking self-discovery breaks to do what we really want. I think we fear breaks. So what next is our deep concern the moment we hear someone is retiring. But how scary can a break be which gives you moments with yourself to discover your passions, your purpose and yourself. Our clan was and still is so insecure about everything (and here I am specifically referring to a self-discovery breaks and not a break to do nothing. I detest people who like to do nothing). We save, see our bank balance, crib, save and just get frustrated for not having been able to do our own thing. So the petrol prices will continue to rise and fall, the rupee will hopefully be not so volatile, the power tariffs will continue to eat large chunk of our pockets and economic crisis will come and go. But in all this and our struggle to cope up, where does self-discovery go? Can we just sit back and wear the NA tag and say it is for the westerners?   Shall we accept that nirvana for us is only by breaking the queue at the toll gate, hitting a rickshaw puller and getting guiltlessly away from it, having unnoticeably paid the vegetable vendor less than what we were to pay or having shopped stupendously at the Zara sale and announcing it on facebook?

I understand that we have to save for our old age and prepare for the not so certain future, I understand that we have to save for our children’s education and I also understand that we have to save for our and our parents’ ‘ever increasing’ medical expenses. Because none of the taxes we pay take care of any of this. I also understand that once we have done all of the above we aspire to accumulate wealth and grow it.

But then should that keep us away from self-discovery? Busy running around in circles, do we fear losing jobs and positions if we have to introspect?   

Thank you Aamir Khan

I truly and deeply respect you. And that is, not only as an actor but as a person.

Every Sunday with Satyamev Jayate, I cry, feel angry and laugh along with what people have to share. It is commendable that you not only discuss our deep rooted problems but also the very core of these problems. And then there are Monday headlines about how good or bad the Sunday show was. Sometimes we have more cynics than people who want to pat your back. There are also cynics who claim that you are just minting money. Wouldn’t you be just doing more movies for money?

More than anything I applaud your passion, the passion to improve our community. Most of us live without a passion or purpose so I also congratulate you for having found yours. Life without a passion is actually soulless living. Frustrated, disgusted and negative, all we do is spew criticism. So please forgive your critics, they envy you for having found your passion and being able to awaken masses. When we don’t have a purpose, all we do is what is rather easy, condemn everything around. Searching within is menacing.   

Week after week, you are able to make people speak and speak about their struggles and emergence.  What they share is truly inspiring and inspiring for each one who seeks not to get entertained.  I can’t help but wonder how the guilty must feel after each show – ashamed to face themselves even in the mirror I hope.

I also salute each and every person associated with Satyamev Jayate for so perfectly putting together such moving content.

Thanks again Mr. Khan. We and the future generations have a lot to thank you for.

I hate you Honey

All right so I am averse to sugar or anything to do with anything sugary (god! how much can I write about food and food checks). But for a lot of people, sweets are extremely close to their hearts. They will do anything to defend everything sugary. I have always had something against sweets (perhaps that something has been there ever since I started my weight battle).

Now take for example these indian sweets, where the poor milk is churned and churned forever till it forgets that it ever was milk. Or the most fatty ingredients are fried so deep that it guzzles all the oil till its last grain. And as if all that wasn't enough, the half dead specimen is then laden with a few kilograms of sugar or sugar syrup to make them 'calorie giants'. And for everything we then want these 'calorie giants' to be around. We have more sweet shops than the poor doctors who can treat the hazards which these giants can cause. Any wedding - gigantic giant, pappu pass - # size giant (the number of times it took for pappu to pass is directly proportional to the giant size), new car - #size giant (again the size of the car will determine the size of the giant), for the sake of taste buds- small giant. Why can't it be like, hey my sister is getting engaged so here these spa vouchers for you. Or I bought a new car so some skimmed milk for you or pappu cleared his exams so here cream crackers for you.

I am not even protecting the non indian sweets just because I have the smallest crush on them. I know a single doughnut too is pumped with all the butter I've had in a lifetime. And then ruthlessly bathed in heaps of sugar or the ever sinful chocolate. Not to even go near those cakes or pastries which are crammed with 'colored' creams and nicely shaped sugar blocks of all shapes. For selling these guilt filled chunks, the chic bakeries in posh markets shamelessly make the modest Aggarwal Sweets feel minuscule.

So honey (I actually don't mind bit of honey in winters) no matter what shape or size, no matter what color or how seductively you dress, I still hate you.

Pre Vacation Phobia of Vacation Over Syndrome

I must be crazy enough to write about this. But it is true. 

Whenever we have planned a vacation, the preparations excite me more than the vacation itself. So the moment the vacation is planned, my preparation starts. 

• Clothes (pack, unpack, repack) – Check
• Footwear (pack, unpack, repack as per the clothes) – Check
• Everyday Medicines – Check
• Medicines just in case - Check
• Download latest music for the way – Check
• Mobile chargers – Check
• Toiletries – Check
• Eatables (as many diet biscuits and mixtures) and beverages for the way – Check
• Books – Check
• DVDs (in case we can watch movies) - Check

Just before the vacation, I follow a strict diet for the inevitable indulgence ahead. When the vacation place is being decided, I am most excited. Searching for places, shortlisting the hotels and deciding how to reach there – all of it is a lot of excitement.  But as the vacation days near, the excitement strangely lessens. And when the journey begins, I get worried about the vacation getting over soon. It breaks my heart to think that now that the vacation has started, it will end soon. During the vacation, I am relentlessly counting the hours left for the vacation to be over. 

So do I suffer from a pre vacation phobia of vacation over syndrome?

Dear food, I hate you like I love you...

Ok, so I loved Kallie Purie's ‘Confessions of a Serial Dieter’. I can follow some of her crazy diets but cannot follow the lunatic workout routines.

I am not obsessed with getting to that perfect weight but when I try so hard shouldn't I get somewhere near? Between the autocratic  8 and a half office punching in and punching out, Gurgaon commute, work and home chores, I follow a Shikha Sharma bland diet and stagger on the treadmill for at least 4 times a week and no more. When I sleep late, I wake up late so the morning sleep devours my sparse workout and what follows are a couple of sad and yawning smileys on my BBM Status. Nothing more to cover up the guilt. During the evening travel, back home, I lust food. The growling tummy conspiringly blinds my mind with images of the fattiest foods possible. The domino’s pizza which I haven't eaten in over months, lovingly beckons me, adorned with extra melted and sizzling mozzarella. Or the Mc Donalds (which is now 2 minutes from home) dangles the red hot New Mexican spicy collection. The paneer tikkas do a brave bungee jumping in the mint chutney. After the starving journey ends, what follows at home is an overdose of diet biscuits and mixtures. So I have happily done away with the fat laden chips (at times there are left over from the last night party and sympathetically find a way to my growling tummy) but that does not help. And no, I don't even want to look at fruits or milk when I am so ravenous.

I love and hate food. For most of the foods I love, I have tried to start hating them. Even in weak moments, they remain ruthlessly ignored. The forgotten Ferrero Rochers yelp every time I open the fridge but I rudely skim out the cucumbers and shut the door of the fridge hard. The cheese slices endlessly wait to rest on the soft bread slices but they are left cold and unwanted. But I cannot ignore the chocolate layered doughnuts or the doughnuts flooded with the smoothest and thick coffee flavored liquid. And I cannot ignore the heavily fried papris or any shaped pasta and I cannot resist pita bread waiting to bathe in the olive oil smeared hoummos. So for those who love me, please do not get these sinful things near me, ever.

But then how do I get to my perfect weight which lives happily ever after in the far far away land?

Any agony aunt (or size zero lass) has answers to my love hate problem?