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Showing posts from April, 2015

Yakkity yak!

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Some folks have it, and some folks don't! The gift of the gab, I mean! And if you ask me, it is a most useful trait to have. I could think of nothing worse than to be stuck in a lift, at a party or just anywhere, with a person who does not like to talk. For example, imagine if you are on the top of the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, so many floors above ground level, with the most amazing panorama spread out below you - the dancing fountains, the buildings that look like Lego pieces, the incandescence of the lights at night and the feeling that you are on top of the world. You turn to the stranger next to you, and exclaim, "Wow! Is there anything more spectacular than this!" spreading your arms around for emphasis. A grunt is not the most desirable of answers, is it? So you decide to plug on, and take the bull by its horns. "Is this your first time?" A question that might sound slightly improper, but isn't. "Humph!"

Xena's Passion

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She was not called Xena for nothing. Her real name was Sheena, but her militant stance and aggressive attitude made her appear like Xena, the warrior princess. She was always ready for a fight, and no issue was too small for her to take up. The boys around admired her for her courage, and treated her as one of themselves. She had very few friends who were girls, because she could never imagine painting her face or wearing a feminine dress. Jeans and a T shirt, and she would be ready to take on any occasion. In college, she was one of the rebel leaders. The glint in her sparkling eyes would intensify when she sensed a situation, and it was that glint that made her stand out from the run of the mill crowd! Xena's glint, as it was dubbed, was universally feared. Till the day she met Rohit, the new boy in town. Their first meeting was a disaster, as they bumped into each other literally, as they were rushing to their classes.  "Ouch!" exclaim

Wodehouse, the Funny man!

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I must have been all of nine when my grandfather and I went to visit a friend of his, a spirited young gentleman of about 80, who had recently been spending much of his time in bed as he was a trifle unwell. I remember being entranced by the way he spoke, and in the quaint phrases that he used in the Queen's English. When we finally got up to go, and said Goodbye, the gentleman smiled and said, "This reminds me of something that PG Wodehouse once said. 'He came in and went out so soon that he almost met himself coming in!' I say, do you really have to leave?"  PG Wodehouse had had such a major influence on the gentleman, and I went home, determined to delve into the works of this writer who could actually influence the way people thought and spoke! And believe me, I was not disappointed! Think Wodehouse and an involuntary smile appears on your face. It does on mine, in any case! Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse was born in the Victorian era, but th

Visitors

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Peter and Wanda had decided to come to India on their honeymoon. They had met in London, fallen in love at Covent Garden as a dulcet voiced girl sang a poignant song that they both loved. Peter had gazed into Wanda's eyes and whispered, "Will you share my life with me?" Wanda had smiled at him, her heart in her eyes, and nodded. It was a dream come true for them both.                                                                                     Covent Garden Market in London So now they were in India, having studied brochures and websites that extolled the virtues of the wonder that was India. Just as their hearts proclaimed that the Taj Mahal at Agra was the place where they needed to go to, they suddenly came across an advertisement that waxed eloquent over an adorable little monument that was slated as the ideal place for lovers. "Let's go there!" whispered Wanda. "The Taj is very crowded and I would rather g

'Upar Wala'

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When I was young, I would go for Hindi movies, and stare entranced at the beautiful people, scenic locales and improbable situations that ensued. Often, there would be an old mother who would suffer in silence, and invariably sob, " He upar wala , meri raksha kijiye !" "Upar wala, please protect me!" I was at that age when I didn't understand who this 'upar wala' was, and my eyes would go up to the roof of the house where she stood, trying to locate a superhero, probably crouching on the roof, ready to spring down and come to her aid. This 'upar wala' could help and hinder, bless and curse, work miracles and make people's dreams come true, according to all the good people in the movies - old mothers and fathers, idealistic young people and the superstitious, all of whom longed for a piece of the 'upar wala's' mercy. As I grew older, I began to suspect that the 'upar wala' actually referred t