To Mrs Satan and her cult with love!


Until 25 years of my life, I was unaware of Mrs Satan and her cult. Mrs Satan’s cult includes very peculiar kind of women. They are urban but not suave. They are well-dressed but uncouth. They might be occasionally seen in branded western wear and sunglasses, but they are the strongest believer of misogyny. They despise women who talk about equality and talk about being child-free all their life. If Mrs Satan’s cult ruled the world, they will announce capital punishment for all women who give more importance to their careers than worldly gossips that Mrs Satan’s cult thrives on.

On a regular day, you will see Mrs Satan talking about the importance of being a devoted and loving wife to her husband and a dedicated mother who sacrificed her (not so) thriving career for her children. But after she has consumed a few shots of vodka, she will tell you how much she has sacrificed for the main man in her life – who is not even thankful enough. You see Mrs Satan married Mr Satan in the hope of climbing up the social ladder, but Mr Satan was a simple man and didn’t rise much in-spite of Mrs Satan’s sacrifices, vices, and social plotting. Now, Mrs Satan, who is terribly upset at this unplanned full stop to her social rising, can’t even express disappointment because in her own words – “No one else could have dealt with her so patiently for so long”.

Now, Mrs Satan and most women in her cult come from remote countryside places and have always dreamed about their prince charming flying in economy-class flights to rescue them from the ‘small towns’ they detest. Despite being aware of their limitations, they are an extremely confident lot. While they can’t pronounce Krug Clos d’Ambonnay correctly, they will hold their champagne glasses in so much style that Audrey Hepburn might feel inferior.

If you have to see the real side of Mrs Satan’s personality, wait for her to talk to her house-help. Mrs Satan, who has strong opinions about house-keeping and child-rearing will abuse the domestic help in the choicest manner with colorful abuses in front of her kids. Right from the time her kids have started understanding words and surroundings in general – Mrs Satan has told them about their social status and privileged upbringing. So, obviously, her kids are not allowed to touch, play with, and be around people who are even one level beneath Mrs Satan’s ‘presumed’ high-class society.

If Mrs Satan ever created a Curriculum Vitae to apply for a job, her list of achievements would include: paintings that she bought but claimed to have painted, home decor items purchased from ‘Ravivari’ markets but presented with an expensive home decor label, and a big, big paragraph about how she has fulfilled her motherly duties much better than other women around her – who leave their kids ‘orphaned’ while they go for work.

Mrs Satan hates beautiful women. In a happening party, a ‘beautiful woman’ (by all conventional standards) happened to catch the fancy of all men. Mrs Satan who felt extremely sidelined and insulted, then, spoke about how she will never dress in a revealing manner to get attention from the opposite sex. Mrs Satan hurled abuses at the beautiful lady because she happened to be smart as well. Mrs Satan gathered her cult around her and spoke about how this beautiful lady is not even concerned about her husband’s needs and is often travelling out for work.

Mrs Satan hates women like me as well. Partially because we don’t compete with her socially and partially because we are not enamored by her fake charm. Mrs Satan makes a point to talk about the importance of work-life balance whenever she is in my proximity despite not having worked a single day in her life, simply because she feels women like me waste their lives trying to achieve professional competence which our husbands are anyways bestowed with, simply by the virtue of their gender. Mrs Satan like a nosy neighborhood aunt also shows a lot of interest in my soon-to-expire reproductive system by simply reminding me that I will soon cross the most ‘fertile’ period of my life and miss the joys of motherhood if I delay pregnancy even by a day now. Alas! What a waste of life! She also tells me that the only way full-proof way to ensure that my man doesn’t stray is to serve him ‘ilish mach’ at least twice a week.

Mrs Satan, as I told you, is an interesting woman with a fan following of many women like her. Ah, I despise myself for not being included by her in her ‘young women grooming club’. But then, not everybody can be this lucky!


Blame it on my personality type!

Someone asked me in the morning, “So, how are you today?” and I so desperately wanted to answer, “I am awkward, as usual”. No word in the dictionary other than ‘awkward’ can describe the emotion I have felt for most of the social situations in my life. Please, just because I am awkward, don’t assume, I am shy. Because, I am anything but shy. I am a personality full of contradictions — sometimes goofy, often very guarded, prone to deep emotions about a few, very specific things, and cold about most the people/situations in my life. I can’t help but resort to ghosting when stuck in a situation that needs too much of explanation or too many people.

But after glorious 28-years of pretending to be normal for the sake of being normal, hanging out with people for the sake of being social, someone introduced me to the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) test and let me tell you this was a moment of self-discovery. According to the MBTI test, I happen to be the rarest personality type, INTJ that form just 2% of the population, and why am I not surprised to read that women of this personality type are especially rare, forming just 0.8% of the population. INTJs are the most misunderstood people because of their rare personality type. While the image below pretty much explains how, I know, most people perceive me, the correct full form of INTJ is Introversion, iNtuition, Thinking, Judgement.

So, a few of my patent statements, such as “I don’t feel like interacting with humans today” (Introversion), “I had told you so” (Intuition), “I need some time to myself” (Thinking), and “Half of the people I know are stupid” (Judgement) are not about I trying to be mean. It is, frankly, I trying to be myself. 🙂

  • So, now, for a matter of fact, I know that I don’t hate humans at all. It’s just that I am not too excited about the existence of most of them!
  • I don’t like discussion laced with drama. So, if you are planning a 4-hour coffee table discussion about curtains and flower decoration dressed in chiffon sarees, I am sorry, I am a li’l too busy – sleeping.
  • I tend to be data oriented. So, if I tell you  “You are wrong”, trust me, I would have done my research, beforehand and I would be ready for an expert analysis as soon as you challenge my statement.
  • I sniff  jealously, hatred, stupidity from miles away. And while your ‘trying to be nice’ drama entertains me for a while, I can tell you, you can’t take me for a ride even if you come riding on a golden chariot.
  • Authority doesn’t impress me. Because I strongly believe, you can be popular, you can be in a leadership position, but that doesn’t certainly mean you cannot a nincompoop. I and only I decide whether you are worthy of my respect & attention, Czar!
  • I am open to new ideas if they are supported by logic. No, please don’t just assume that all ideas are supported by logic. If you don’t trust me, just look at the images below.



  • Friendships and relationships with INTJs take time—a long time. Don’t be impatient. I might like you, but still not call you my friend. Falling in love is another ball game altogether. Let’s not even get there.
  • My innate response to any personal problem is to look for answers and solutions. I don’t  sympathize with myself even when I am in neck-deep shit. I am sorry, I can’t be your shoulder to cry on if all you want to do is to rant.
  • There’s always a ‘right way’ to do things for me. So, when I insist on a ‘print out’ for editing your document, I am not being ‘old school’, I just know what will help me deliver the best.

In short, most of the time, what I say is more about how I look at things than how I can flatter or offend you. Fortunately or unfortunately, I live in my own head. You matter, but most likely a little less than you expect.

The ‘phone’ of contention

I feel pretty old writing this article because this makes me realize that I was born in a generation where landline phones were fashionable. I remember my boyfriend, now my husband, chasing me for 2 days after school hours to get my ‘phone number’ so that he can discuss the ‘seating arrangements’ for the exams with me (and we discussed everything else instead!). Anyways! I am that old! I belong to a generation that lived without SMSes and WhatsApp messages and still managed to make friends in school.  And, yes, before I hit 30, I can happily claim to have lived more than half of my life without a mobile phone.

Going by the standards of my generation, I was privileged to get an old and discarded Motorola mobile phone of my dad very early in life. But mind you, I was given a mobile phone with a strict warning that it has to be used only in the case of emergency. All that mobile phone allowed me to do was make calls & send, if I remember correctly, 142 characters messages. Sending multi-media messages were unaffordable for a kid like me whose monthly allowances were less than the cost of popcorn in PVRs today.

Anyways, coming back to the point, yes, a mobile phone, about a decade back, was a commodity all of us could live without.  But today, mobile phones are more than mobiles phones and that confuses an old-school-er like me. The society has defined a whole new way of measuring people’s amicability quotient by simply calculating the number of calls a person makes to his/her friends, family and acquaintances in a stipulated time frame.

Here is how the new social charter works:

  • You don’t pick up someone’s call once, you are deliberately ignoring the person.
  • You don’t pick up the call more than twice, you are annoyed with the person.
  • You pick up the call and tell you are busy, you are acting pricey.
  • You forget to charge your mobile’s battery, you are careless.
  • You don’t call someone often, you don’t like the person.
  • You don’t do useless, small talks on festivals, anniversaries and birthdays, you are defying family values and bringing bad name to the family.
  • You don’t talk to far, unknown relatives (mind you who you might have as met a toddler or never met at all), you are not interested in carrying forward the relationships your family nurtured over decades.
  • You don’t contact a person who you met socially on WhatsApp or over a call after the meeting, you are rude.   

In short, mobile phones have become the yardsticks of how much you value your relationships! Whoa! We have reached another level of social evolution with the invention of mobile technology.

For someone like me who has to be online on Instant Messengers for business day in and day out, putting away my mobile phone is a luxury. It’s actually relaxing to be not talking to people who can’t understand your pauses and tiredness (and I say that in the personal as well as professional context). And, oh yes! This reminds me of another point that should go up the list:

  • You don’t sound enthusiastic over the phone, you were not happy talking to the person on the line!

The relationships, the camaraderie, the love – everything now is simply calculated by the talk time spent your mobile phone or the success with which you emote (or pretend) over this virtual medium of communication.

I, sometimes, wonder if there is a quantifiable metric to categorize people based on their monthly mobile expenses or availability to attend mobile calls. For example, someone who spends Rs.2500 and/or 1000 minutes talking over the mobile phone in 30 days is an Amicable Person (Level 2)!

I won’t be surprised if you tell me a metric like this is already in place!  I am ‘socially’ less connected, you see!

Life, my friends, is difficult!


images (1)

There are people who are epitome of elegance & there are people who are epitome of chaos. I belong to the latter category. People who know me don’t get surprised when I trip from the staircase &  spill tea all over myself even when I am not in a hurry. But that’s me – and I am unapologetic about it. Now, this sentence about being unapologetic has been deliberately added here to subtly put across the point that chaos in my life doesn’t end even when I try. But then you, my dear readers, must know what happens when someone like me, a Ms. Chaos, pretends to be Mrs. Elegance. Swirls of emotions attack me every now & then, and here is a glimpse of those emotions:

  1. Nostalgia: But, you know, I attended 6:30 a.m. lectures in college in shorts & slippers and it was so bloody me! Who is the person I see in the mirror?
  2. Discipline, say what?: Not that I have ever been in a rebel, I definitely plugged in headphones when I was lectured about poor attendance. I have sneaked out of lectures and arranged for proxy attendance. So, arrive-before-time is a concept I am still getting acquainted with.
  3. What’s cooking, PASTA?: I am extremely ‘jugadoo’ (there is no better English word for it; ‘resourceful’ just tones down the impact) when you need something edible to be fixed in 2 minutes. I can make tea by using an immersion rod, boil Maggi over the iron box, roast papad by using the iron box but, dude, don’t ask me what goes in my favorite Arrabiata Pasta. That’s too much for my gentle soul to handle!
  4. Wish I could do this as easily as others:( : Take for example, draping a saree – I take 3 hours to get it in place. Then I take another 3 hours to feel comfortable in it. Then I take another 3 hours to take out the safety pins that I almost put through my skin. Saree is a 9-hours affair for me. And I really respect people who take 10 mins to drape it and can run for a marathon with their saree perfectly in place. I take a bow!
  5. Husband, who? Oh husband! My husband!: Now, my husband has been a friend much longer than he has been my husband. So, while his name rings a bell – I am still getting used to the word ‘husband’ and his husband-like tantrums!
  6. I-know-I-am-sounding-stupid: “Well, sorry but I have not seen anything in Fuchsia in my life so far. Color codes in RGB, please? Ah! Does it help to tell you that I design websites – but I need color codes for that.  May be, I feel less stupid now! Sigh! I know I am sounding crazy!!!
  7. Help me, Dear Lord: Help me Dear Lord, as I have to address a crowd of 100 facing towards me and not just make sense but sound inspirational. Did I excuse myself from morning prayers because of crowd phobia back in school? Never thought of Karma biting my back then!

Life, my friends, is difficult!

10 Simple Ways to Live Peacefully!


  1. Sleep till 9 a.m.
  2. Snore. Snore. Snore.
  3. Shout for a cup of tea right from your bed- Maid. Husband. Husband. Maid – Race who gets it first.
  4. Sit at the portico with your third cup of tea and a street dog for company because solid food & human interaction might interrupt with your inner harmony early in the morning.
  5. By 10:30 a.m, switch on the laptop and pretend to work for the next 10 hours because you get paid for pretending to work.
  6. Ignore all phone calls, because mobile radiations cause cancer. (For those who think I am joking  – click to read the article from National Cancer Institute).
  7. Talk to your pet fish during lunch because discussing ‘Sasural Simar Ka’ is way too advanced a topic for your level of mental evolution.
  8. Read 100-rupee literature such as ‘My 95th Love Story at IIT’ to get over crap that you can’t filter out of your system through your sad face & mad face.
  9. After you are done with your day’s work, switch on the TV, tune in Times now and watch ‘The News Hour’ on mute.
  10. Sleep at 11 p.m. Wake up at 1 a.m, switch on the lights and play Frank Sinatra on full volume. Let people who play Anuradha Paudwal, on full volume,  at 5 a.m. have logical reasons to complain.

PS: Please feel free to feel offended.


Shit load of true love!

I remember when I was in college, a classmate explained to me the meaning of ‘true love’. True love according to this person was the insatiable desire to look at one’s lover’s face forever and ever and ever. In the next breath, he asked me if I loved someone. Stupid as I was, I thought about the idea of looking at my boyfriend’s face forever and ever and ever, and I was not amused by the idea. So, I said, “I think I am not in true love”. This was in 2006. I was not eligible to vote so I was allowed to indulge in such stupid conversations.

I am soon going to celebrate a decade of saying tata-bye-bye to teenage and  I thought absurd conversations like these are finally a thing of past! But la la!!! I stumbled upon the Message Requests folder in Facebook Messenger and I came across a shit load of true-love-absurdity all over again. The new definition of true love in 2016 seems to be sending absurd ‘frandship and lurrve’ messages to unknown girls. 

So, the point I am trying to make is that the concept of true love and stupidity seem to exist in parallel dimension. I will come back to this folder in 2026 to see if true love evolves with time. Till then, leaving you with these messages. Keep spreading love!

And yes, my lord, before you object, I am not hiding the names of these true lovers because: a) It’s shit load of Photoshop to do at 11 p.m. b) Please let them enjoy their moment of fame with their ‘fake’ names!

  1. The true love based on “Adjectives”!


2. The ‘my’ who I don’t know!


3. The self-proclaimed weirdo!


4.  This pick-up line is a killer, literally! (Thank God, someone reported him!)


5. The typical good boy with a ‘frandship’ request! Phtttt! I need a heart transplant, dude! Will you donate yours?! 😛


6.  And this, I tell you, killed me with the confidence. Cut the crap and keep the love! Woaaah!!!



PS: Now, with no offense to people who met on Facebook and later got hitched, please never tell me that your love story started from the Facebook Messengers’ Message Requests folder. I will get judgmental. Okay?!



Finally, I spoke my mind in a job interview! #FakePost #ParallelWorld

For someone like me who hates meeting new people and making new friends, networking for a job is not an easy thing. So, all the new (read few) job opportunities that come to me are either purely based on my talent (I heard your ouch!) or impressive profile (I spent an entire weekend working on it!) posted on various employment websites. Also, the fact that I am sitting here in the Himalayan foothills gives me the much needed motivation to let go of the new job opportunities for which I am asked to take an assignment, do a sample write-up or talk to more than 3 people in a week before being offered the job. After all this drama, if I am able to get a few interesting  (few!) opportunities, I prefer not taking the interviews on Tuesdays,  Thursdays and Saturdays (The Delhi in me believes in Odd-Even strongly!).

But recently, a prospective employer suggested that there was no hurry at their end and I can speak to them whenever I was ready. I liked the ‘no hurry’ attitude and made a mental note to wait for a couple of weeks before I called them back. Three days later, someone from the prospective employer’s team called me again and asked me if I can be ready for a Skype interview in the next 30 minutes (I wish I knew the new ‘corporate forever’ promise came with a 3-days expiry period!). Reluctantly, I agreed to wash my face, change into a formal shirt and sit in front of my laptop to talk to someone whose name sounded strangely unfamiliar. But this time, I had made up my mind to put no facade and just speak my mind irrespective of whether or not I get the job (By the way, results still awaited.).

Given below is the transcript of the interview:

Interviewer: Hello! Good evening!

Me (Frantically looking for a wall clock around!): Oh evening! (I had left the bed only after the lady on the phone said ’30-minutes to catch the train’.)

Interviewer: How are you today?

Me (Trying to control the ADD problem): Usual! Like everyday! Did not realize what time it was when I got up. Still a little confused about the time zone you are calling from, but I guess I am supposed to say I am fine. Thank you!

Interviewer: So, you are in Sikkim?

Me (Looking for my glasses now, bloody, which Firang  knows about Sikkim!): Uh huh! How do you know? (Bloody myopia!)

Interviewer: Your resume says Ravangla, Sikkim.

Me: Oh! Yes! I am there. Do you know where in India is Sikkim?

Interviewer: I googled it just before the interview.

Me: Well! I am not in Gangtok.

Interviewer: Did you say you can’t talk?

Me: No! I guess it’s the internet connection! I am in Ravangla, Sikkim and you have googled the place already! Nice! Wish I googled the company before I got on the call as well.

Interviewer: So, Richa, tell me something about yourself.

Me: No! Please! Don’t do this. Spare me this part of the interview. Everything that you need to know is on the CV that you already have and you have googled the city where I live. I don’t know what to talk about myself. An interesting piece of trivia that not many know is that I was born before the due time (profusely sweating by now!) Can we now move on to the next question, please ?

Interviewer: So, you are a medical student who chose to pursue Mass Communications later…

Me: You know what I had enough of this convincing shit with my parents for switching streams. If you are waiting for me to justify what I did – well! we are done then! No, wait, you are the kind of people who stop people from pursuing their dreams. You – the Engineer maker type – I hate you already!

Interviewer: Okay, then, tell me about your job experience.

Me: Dude, I spent an entire weekend trying to document the 6-odd years of work experience. Can you stop behaving like me and read what you are supposed to read before coming for the interview instead of wasting your time looking for exotic locations on Google!

Interviewer: Okay, I see you got some wonderful reference notes from your colleagues!

Me: What do you mean? Just because you can see a gun on the table doesn’t mean I force people to recommend me! That’s my husband’s! Licensed. Okay.

Interviewer: Tell me something about your family.

Me: I have two dogs. They are lovely. They love me unconditionally. I read this website called DogSpots everyday so that I can make life better for my dogs. The black one is naughty; the brown one is obedient. Do you like watching funny dog videos? I have quite a nice collection, you know!

Interviewer: So, you are a dog person.

Me: Here you go judgmental! See – I don’t hate cats. I don’t hate horses either. I just don’t like rats and ants. But I guess no one likes rats!

Interviewer: So, let me tell you about the role we are hiring for. It basically involves blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and communicating with people.

Me: First 5 points are okay. Communicating with people – how many times in a day? You mean meaningful, business-like conversations?

Interviewer: I guess!

Me: Uh, huh! Can I get back to you on this? (Unplug the LAN cable – my brain is whispering now!)

Interviewer: What’s your salary expectation?

Me: You know what – I am not good at this. My best friend does it for me even in the flea markets. As I am incapable of the negotiation bit, you know, just tell me how much salary you are planning to offer me without making me feel sorry about spending the whole weekend writing that CV on

Interviewer: Great! My HR team will schedule the technical round of interview for tomorrow.

Me:  Excuse me! I have to talk to a new person and beg for this job again!

Interviewer: Bye! See you!

Me: Did you not say “Good evening Mrs. Bhaskar”! How disrespectful! Anyways, Good evening, gentleman!

Learning a New Language? You will relate to these 5 things!


Learning a new language is very interesting. It is like going back to kindergarten and getting introduced to a world full of new and wonderful words. I found it to have a therapeutic effect as well because as a learner my mistakes are welcomed before being corrected. However, sometimes, I tend to take these liberties too far and make silly mistakes. Here are the top 5 silly mistakes I have made while trying to learn French, a language I recently started learning:

Asking silly questions 

Identifying the correct “gender” of the subject is my biggest challenge while trying to frame a sentence. With a limited understanding of the language and unlimited confusions in my head, the silliest mistake I make is to mess up the gender of the subject. To avoid making this mistake, I generally clarify my doubts with my fellow classmates. I have even gone ahead to the extent of asking one of my classmates, “So, in this sentence, should I refer to you as an étudiante (female student) or étudiant (male student)?” I wonder if I took my confusion to a completely new level with this sentence.

Hilarious pronunciations 

To get the pronunciations correct is a challenge for anyone who is new to a language, but for someone like me whose accent anyways fluctuates between Bangla, Bihari, American English, Punjabi and Australian English (depending upon who I am talking to), “Juillet (July) – the month” becomes “Juliet of the Romeo-Juliet story” more often than it should.

Trying stupid ways to remember new words 

On an average, I am expected to learn 10 words a day. Now, with an adult brain which is anyways struggling to assimilate information from all quarters, it gets quite difficult for me to remember all the new words correctly. So, one of my classmates came up with an interesting way of remembering new words, which can be really helpful for anyone who is not forgetful as I am. My classmate suggested that I remember the French words, which I tend to forget as a funny English word that has an identical (or close to identical) pronunciation. So, “le printemps (the spring season)” becomes “the Phantom” sometimes.

Speaking funny and broken sentences

About a month into learning French, the only resources I have at my disposal are the basics of grammar and very little vocabulary. With these limited resources, I often feel like a 2 year old kid trying to explain a surge of complex emotions to the world even when I have to simply request someone for a pencil. Coherent and complete sentences are rare. More often than not I end up communicating in broken sentences like “Je suis une chanteuse, but not that good”, which loosely translates to “I sing but not too good” (I know I making horrible mistakes).

Shameless flaunting

While I completely aware of my limited understanding of the language, I believe a little bit of flaunting is absolutely harmless. So, I love to flaunt the very little that I have learnt so far. From updating a famous French proverb as a cover picture on my Facebook profile to watching a French movie without subtitles (and of course not understanding a word of it), I am guilty of showing off my newly acquired language skill quite shamelessly.

I am not sure how long it will take me to master this new language but in the course of learning it, I have discovered a childlike excitement in me. I have rewarded myself for the smallest achievements and discovered the joy of unadulterated happiness in life once again. I have also promised myself – a trip to Paris, the city of my dreams if I perform up to my expectations in this course (of course, conditions apply**).

Kaho na Pyar “nahi” hai – The stupid teenage celebrity love!

As a teenager, I adored Hrithik Roshan and the world knew about it! On my 14th birthday – all the 5-10 odd gifts that I received had something to do with Mr.Roshan. I got his autographed posters, cassettes (Ouch! This made me feel so old) of his movies,  a Close-up contest form (I can never forget this one!) which offered a 20 minutes journey with Mr.Roshan up in the air and last but not the least an autographed photo and a letter (not an email, mind you!) from the man himself (which I regret misplacing during shifting my houses).

Now that I look back and think of the stupid things that I have done as a fan, I smile in embarrassment. At 28, I am writing this confessional post to officially announce that I am distancing myself from the  “Roshan fanaticism”. If by any chance, you happen to a teenager who is reading my post and claim to be “inspired” (because I feel “love” is way too cheesy at 14) by Varuns, Siddharths, Shahids and the like, please feel free to add my list of stupidities to your own respective task lists. 14 years later, you can anyways officially ditch your celebrity love to announce to the world that “la! la! you finally grew up to be a sensible adult”.

Here is the list of the stupidities (I am sure I have forgotten many!) that I am most embarrassed about. Some of them are outright stupid, so even if I tell you to not be judgmental after reading the post, I know you will not be able to help yourself, so go ahead, judge, smile and get done with it.

  1. In my short 20-something life, I have watched “Kaho Na Pyar Hai” some 25-odd times. When there was a power outage at my home and the good-old Cable Service Provider was telecasting this movie on the local channel, I shifted my base to my neighbors house for the next 3 hours with my holiday homework. This was the 19th time I was watching a movie that did not even get nominated for the Oscars!
  2. I have watched the episode of Rendezvous with Simi Garewal that featured Hrithik and Sussanne may be 50-odd times. At one point in time, I remembered the questions and answers by heart. I can’t even tell you how much it inspired my own love life. My husband might cry at the very mention of this show.
  3. I watched “Aap mujhe acche lagne lage” and “Mission Kashmir” in theater much against my mother’s will.
  4. I skipped a family picnic because the telecast hours for the “Making of Fiza” clashed with the family picnic plans.
  5. I have spent all my pocket money during the early 2000s buying Hrithik’s posters. I even bought a Diwali cards for him and wrote to him on my birthday asking him for an autographed photo to make my birthday “special”. Phhhttt!!!
  6. At one point in time, I stripped all photos off an old family album to use it for my collection of Hrithik’s photos. Mom, this is a confession! 😀
  7. I had 6 posters of Hrithik adorning the walls in my room until one fine day my dad announced that he won’t enter my room unless I get rid of the “Pan-Dukaan-Ka-Posters” from all the walls.
  8. I once had a heated argument with one of my classmates about “Why Hrithik Roshan has a brighter future in Bollywood as compared to one his contemporaries, Mr.Well-Known-Surname?” While I won the debate (Ah! I had seen the future.), I was reprimanded by my class teacher for creating nuisance and using the “f” word in the class.
  9. I bought every magazine in sight which had Hrithik’s photo on the cover. Even the ones with “Finished” written in capital and bold case right over his face.
  10. I used all my jugaads as a teenager to procure Hrithik’s mobile number from all the acquaintances in Bombay to pass on my good wishes to him on his birthday – 10th January, in case you are wondering if I still remember the date. I was successful in getting his number much later when I joined the PR business. I never dared to call him though!

Well, while I am writing this article, someone pings me to ask Mohenjo Daro’s release date. Ufff!!! Dude, I am over him now. Ab kya sar pe likhoon!


About the image: I don’t own the copyright of this image. If you have an objection, please write to me.

Oh Shit! I am the Bride!


Ever since I remember, makeup kit was not my thing. My most prized possession in my teenage was a badminton racket that my dad bought for me on my 10th birthday. The highlights of my summer vacations used to be gully cricket and fist fights. The summer of 2006 is etched in my memory because I learnt to ride a motorbike that year. I was not the quintessential girl ever; however, I did not know I will make such a crackpot bride.

It all started with the idea of getting married. Well! It might sound strange but the idea of marriage came to us (me and my boyfriend) as a remedy for the intermittent bouts of hatred that we used to feel for each other. We were friends. We fell in love. We were friends again. We fell in love again. It was a weird relationship. So, to put our relationship drama to an end for once and for all – we decided to get hitched.

The real drama started when my mom asked me about my choice of the wedding attire. Guess! Guess! I had no idea. So, I decided to do some online research before I made up my mind. Everyday after office, for around 20 days, I followed this routine – start my search from Indian Ethnic Section on some nice shopping portal and by the end of 30 minutes of looking into lehengas and churidars of various kinds, navigate to the Domino’s portal, order Pizza, watch Suits (a Television series), curse God for making Mike (a character in Suits) so hot and sleep talking about Harvey’s and Mike’s next move with my then fiancee (now husband) over phone. 20 days into this routine, my mom intervened. Guess! Guess! I still had no idea, so I suggested buying something in yellow (I love yellow). My mom almost yelled at me for wasting her time with this stupid idea and did not consult me again on what had to be to bought for my trousseau.

The problems, however, did not seem to end. 25 days before my wedding, I reached home with a face full of acne. My mom almost fainted at the airport after looking at me. The weird acne treatment from there on was the most torturous experience of my life so far. But guess that was not the end! My mom made it very clear that with people coming to visit me everyday, my hippy look with shorts and shabby hair was out of question now! I had to be dressed decently. I guess she was just preparing me to survive beyond my comfort zone. The only moments of relief in these 25 days were the moments I spent working on the vendor management spreadsheets  (related to my wedding) with my dad. Number crunching is certainly easier than undergoing acne treatment. I speak from experience here!

However, nothing beats the stupid incidences that happened on the day of my wedding:

  • 2 hours into that makeup room and I was so exhausted that I almost felt like postponing the wedding date (only if I could!).
  • A bride, who was getting ready with me in the same room, asked me I wanted to share a smoke ( I don’t smoke!).
  • The makeup artists applied some light makeup (light, my foot!) on my face and made me look a Voodoo doll – barely recognizable to my own eyes.

The biggest sigh of relief for me was the sight of my fiancee (soon to be husband) on the stage. He looked equally funny (may be funnier!) in a shimmering sherwani. Guess what! I was not the only joker in my wedding! Aha!

The biggest blooper of the day was still to happen.

I heard someone from the photography crew asking the bride to look in to the camera. Nervous as I was on the stage, I looked around to see where the bride was! My husband, the gentleman that he is, elbowed me thrice and then almost yelled at me – “you, idiot, you, look in to the camera”.