Straps&Strings...

The only thing I love about Valentine's day is the awesome discount on sexy lingerie! :)

Caught In The Net...

So today was dedicated for Munira's wedding shopping and I bought two awesome sarees and I can't wait to flaunt them! :D Wheeeeeeeee! Okay so, one is baby pink and the other is in hot pink colour. Yes, I bought PINK sarees! :D Yay, yay, yay!


And like always I forgot about the details. Details like what you say? Well, I just realised that both the awesome sarees are made of net material, and well that's all fine. The real problem is that I have only 15 days left to get a liposuction. Or else everyone at Munira's wedding is going to get a full view of my awesome tummy. Yep. That's ofcourse, if she lets me enter the wedding hall in those sarees, in the first place.


Anyway, so when I told mom I am buying sarees for Munira's wedding instead of lengha's, she was more than happy. According to mothers, once a girl wears a saree, she's ready for marriage. I bought my first saree in 2004 for my sister's wedding. But my mom is still hopeful. What can I say?


You know it's only when you go to the markets, the real markets of India, do you realize how the not-so-well-off live and buy. Shopping in the malls has insulated us from the harsher realities that exist a few kilometers away from those malls. We buy in AC malls, with music and assistants to help you, and where you don't have to lug around heavy bags, you instead have carts or then bags with wheels that you can drag around.


But you buy from these markets and you realise, in that whole chaos which defines the Indian markets, how lucky you are.


And while we are on the topic of buying, I bought bananas on the way today. I mostly never bought any groceries (though I can bargain real well :D), dad or mom always did. I only bought the "gourmet" vegetables for the likes of pasta and pizza, that too from the gourmet shops, and so I went to the market like after a long time and good god! Bananas are 30 rupees a dozen? What the hell happened? Did all bananas go to heaven? And my favourite oranges? They're 100 rupees a dozen! Even a litre of petrol is cheaper! I remember buying them oranges at 40/- a dozen last winter. If someone like me finds 100 rupees a dozen for oranges costly, what do the poor eat?


And we girls really need to learn the art of saving from our mothers. I mean, look at us! We have regular incomes and good incomes for that matter and we never save anything. I don't know what happens to my money. It comes and goes. And I am like, erm, yes I have been working for 4 years now, what happened to all that money? I guess I need to open my wardrobe and look inside. Yes, I need to learn how to save from mother. Our stay-at-home moms never had regular incomes like we do, but still they managed to save so much, and we? We don't even know what happens to our money. Shameful.


And so it's decided. 2011 new year resolution is: Learn the art of saving. Yep. I'll be a rich woman someday.

Polka Dots...

Jaan bhi lete ho aur zinda rahe yeh dua bhi karte ho. Kya hai tumhara pyaar aur kaisi tumhari nafrat!


*****
In other news, lingerie brands in India need to do a fresh market research on what "women in India want". If anyone out there is listening: Hello, you all make crappy underwear.

Look, underwear with floral designs? Very nice, but we don't want crappy flowery designs. You know the big gaudy maroon flowers with blue leaves? Yes, please get new designers.

I can never understand why Indian lingerie brands, even some international brands selling in India, can never get lingerie/nightwear right. Really! How difficult must it be to design a sexy underwear or a cute pajama? Very, apparently.


P.S: Not all Indian women have heavy bottoms, you know what I mean? The pajamas in stores look like they were made for baby elephants.

Proceed With Caution...

So today for the first time I broke my vow and used MC's and BC's while shouting at a guy on the road. A drunk taxi driver. And his bloodshot eyes should have scared me, ideally, but it just so frigging pissed me off that such *be prepared* low-IQ people are given license to drive! What does the government think driving is? Child's play? Our stupid corrupt RTO's are in a way responsible for all these road accidents! Yes, driving on Indian roads requires skill and very very high amount of intelligence. Every tom, dick and harry becomes a "driver" these days or then buys a motorcycle and starts riding on the roads. They know shit about traffic rules and they are not smart enough to intuitively know what "right of way" is. So hang me, but the only way to weed out such retards from the roads is by having stricter tests! And completely remove these so-called "agents" who through underhand means get you a license without you even having to sit for the test! I say, make these agents stand in the middle of the road and let these other idiots drive, let's see how many manage not to wet their pants! And ofcourse not to forget my own gender! I have seen women ride scooters with both their feet touching ground. WHY? Dear Aunty, if you can not bloody balance a two wheeler, you know what to do? Ofcourse you do not. So let me tell you, you don't ride a scooter in the first place! Practice first in your garden no? It's really simple. But clearly you are dumb enough not to understand such a simple thing. Why are these people take a chance with life? Have they no fucking brains at all? Or old uncles! And rich young 16 year old daddy's boys! Arghhhh....I can so murder someone right now :|


I think instead of teaching subjects like "moral education", the government and all private schools should include "Traffic rules" as one of their subjects right from 1st grade. Every child should be inculcated with "traffic sense" right from the time he starts riding his tricycle. I think with the kind of monstrous traffic conditions in the cities these days, a society that is more aware and well-educated about traffic rules and safety is the need of the hour! If only our government was listening!

*****
Talking about trying new things, recently I did something I never thought I would.

So I had clothes for every, what should I say, occasion? So I had club wear and pub wear, ofcourse there's a difference between the two and ofcourse clothes had to be different. Then there were separate clothes for dinners and separate for lunches. There were specific clothes I'd wear when going for the movies, there were separate ones I'd wear with parents (ofcourse it'super embarrassing when some guy is staring at your ass in front of your Dad, better avoid pissing Dad off, no?). There were separate type of clothes I'd wear when going for shopping and there were separate clothes for going down to the grocery shop. Separate ones for office, which again had formals, casuals and Indian wear. Indian wear were categorized as Indian-wear for everyday use and for "special occasions". There were clothes to be worn in the house (you don't want to look shabby even at home!), and there were separate ones for sleeping time. Am I missing anything? I am sure I missed something. Anyway, so yeah, so very tedious and so very vain. I don't know what happened to me. Maybe I saw sense or maybe I am just tired now or maybe I get no time these days.


Anyway, so I went to a club, like a good up-market club, in a patiala salwaar kameez and ofcourse more than me, Munira was super embarrassed. Heh :) I think more than embarrassed she was just shocked that I didn't run to the nearest mall and buy something "appropriate". I think I have reached that stage where I don't give two hoots about what people have to say. And really that's a wonderful thing. I think I cared about "propriety" and "what people think of me" a tad too much and it somehow affected everything I did. Which is quite sad actually. So in a way this is liberating. I think if I can pull off an Amritsari Patiala in a club, not get thrown out and yes, do look hot too, I definitely can sit at home in just my bathrobe and no one should have a problem, right? Right.

*****
And oh, I talked to him today :) but damn! He's not that smart :( Quite a shame.

Soft Pink Kisses...

Most women in arranged marriages don't love their husbands when they get married; and later, they don't have a choice.


*****

You know what is the first thing I am going to do when I go to Bombay? Make friends with this lady here and do what she does. SHOP. Swasta and Masta indeed! 

Oh, the joy of finding something good! And the greater joy of finding it cheap! Nothing can beat that! Not even a good foot massage!

*****

I just arranged the Shelf above my study table today and how come I never realised it? I love my books-cum-other-things shelf. It's awesome. I am awesome. 

I have all these awesome books neatly arranged by size and thickness and colour. And I have my copy of Bhagvad Geeta (I like having it there nestled amongst the likes of Cervantes and Oscar Wilde). And then I have my hand-painted gods** and then these little things(curios/souvenirs) gifted by friends. Like this candle which has a metal elephant or the little metal tower of Paris Apeksha brought from Paris. Or then the earthenware with Warli painting made by Garima. Or then those little colourful aboriginal tequila glasses by Praveen. Then there's the Orange blossom tea tin gifted by Praveen again. I love that tea. Like my favouritest ever. What can be better than Orange flavoured tea? My two favourite things together! Then the Capricorn cup with a little fairy on it by Munira. I do have awesome friends :) Then my sister's soft toys she left back. Then my bachpan ka mickeymouse walla pen stand. My paint brushes and pens and pencils in my favourite blue coffee mug. My favourite Dior jewellery box. And other little boxes. I love boxes. Like little treasure boxes. How exciting they are! Then Vitamins bottle, sea cod pills. Almonds and walnuts ka jar. Pink nail paint bottle. My diaries. My cds and my perfumes box gifted by Jiju. And a photoframe with my kiddie pic. 

I like the idea of shelf. You know, if want to really understand someone, go see how they live. I think a person's private space says so much about him or her. I think it's fascinating how much you can glean about the person from just his shelf. 

**I had made this Ganesh idol from clay in 7th grade. And I guess I must be watching too many Bollywod movies back then cause I remember telling myself that if that Ganesh idol ever breaks, I'll die. Ha! Well, now you know how to kill me. 

*****

I really do hate the fact that most of my guy friends can cook and cook well. Like really! They compete with me! :( You know, I can not sing. Or dance. Or be funny. I can't even be all intelligent or sexy. Like really. Can you leave one thing that I can do well? Please men? 

I remember as kids while sister could get away with being beautiful, I had nothing to show off in front of the guests (Yes, insecurity breeds since childhood. I am still looking for that yellow dress just in case). So while parents would place my sister in front of the guests and they, guests, would gush over how cute and pretty she was, my parents would say, "A, go get that plate of biscuits from the kitchen."

Or then bad still, "A stood 3rd in her class." And no one would bother. 

And you can not, just can not imagine my trauma, and what a trauma it is at 10 years of age, when the guests break your happy little I-am-worthy-of-some-praise bubble, when they beg your parents to take you away before you start entertaining them by telling them funny (atleast in my mind they were!) jokes. My jokes! No one wanted to hear my jokes :( And such nice jokes they were too!

And now these men! Who can make better mustard chicken than I can! *sniff sniff*

I think my sister's hex is finally working. As a teenager when I used to laugh at my sister's attempts at cooking, she used to give me that look that only older, arrogant sisters are capable of and say, "A, I hope you get married into a house where no one loves food! And so you can cook and cook and no one will appreciate you!" 

Yes. She did say that. Can't believe it right? Me neither :( What can I say? I do have an evil sister. And when I used to go crying about it to mom, she used to just ignore me :( Or if I was lucky, shoo me with a, "go cut an onion or something". 

Sigh. Maybe I am adopted after all. I should go cry now.