Not So Pretty After All

I have never understood what people see in her. There’s an entire section of humanity, who unlike me, wait for her with bated breath. They count the days until she’s in town. They plan their days around her arrival and hope she makes it on time. Even as I frown with disgust, I realize I’m one of the few people around this side of the city who dislikes her. I mean, sure, she can be pretty and refreshing and all that. But there’s nothing about her that has struck me as extraordinary. You need to have a different sort of taste to like her. Me? I’m not used to her kind of beauty. For that, you have to put up with her vices as well. She has her good points, but she’s messy and filthy and I don’t have the patience with her kind.She’s unpredictable, she’s a party-pooper and she gets you all lazy and drowsy. I like beauty that makes you sit up and stare. That makes you do things, go places- just for her, or atleast because of her. But she ain’t like that.

But I can see why people like her so much. I mean I saw it last evening as I was getting home from work. I knew she was in town because I’d received way too many phone calls about it and plus everyone at office was talking about her. It made me groan, the way people get so excited about it.

Anyway, I stepped out of the doors hoping not to run into her. And I’d just about made it home when she bumped into me. But that’s a different story.

So as I was sitting in the rickshaw, I noticed that she’d already been on the street that I was on. She’d left her trails. She’d left her signs- she’s so arrogant. I hate that she can’t keep quiet about her arrival. But there it was, right in front of my eyes. Proof that people are crazy about her.

The smile on everyone’s faces was unmistakable. One look at them and I knew that they’d encountered her and they’d loved it. Children, college students, men, women, people walking on the side walks, people in their cars, people in the shops and even those I could hear on the radio- everybody looked and sounded happy. I could hear their excited chatter. I could see them huddled in groups talking about her no doubt. I could read their minds from meters away. At every lane and at every corner people were singing and dancing and enjoying the fact that she was here and she was here to stay for another couple of months.

It amazed me for a while; that she had cast such a spell in just hours of her arrival. But the amazement soon turned to the much expected impatience as I realized, just a few yards from home, that she’d caused a major traffic jam at the junction. It satisfied me just a little bit that there were some like me who were irritated by the confusion and chaos she had caused. But she couldn’t have let me gloat in the realization that people disliked her. Because as soon as I stepped out of the rickshaw under my building, there she was, in all her power and glory. And she took her revenge.

God! I hate the rains. I don’t understand what people see in her.

She walks in Beauty

I'd never thought it would happent to me. But she managed to do it. I thought she would never go for someone like me. I was too quiet and tame for her taste. When I met her almost six years ago, she was just like any other. And I didn't give her a second thought.

But when I met her this time, she'd changed. Or maybe I had. She looked different, felt different and even smelt different. One look at her and she'd managed to trap me. She made a place for herself in my head in an instant and as time went by it just grew stronger. She's an evil temptress. She crept in my thoughts so slowly I never felt her at first. And by the time realisation sunk in, it was too late. She was all over me. She has this power-I'd always heard. But now I knew from experience.

She has a million people who worship her and yet she wanted me too. She loves no one but everybody loves her.

When you're just introduced, you might think there's nothing special about her. But when you've known her long enough you just can't help yourself. You just have to have her. And even though she's not marriage material many would say, she's the kind of mistress any one would want to have. She can be a saint when she wants but drift into moments of absolute sin in just an instant. She's sexy, she's fast and she'll blow your mind.

I was lucky to see both her forms; as a vision in the early morning mist and as a wild party animal in the night. I saw her in the quiet hours when hardly anyone sees her. But I think its when she knows she can be who she wants without her admirers demanding too much from her. I felt at that time that she couldn't get any better. I could sit and stare at her for hours. She was what I call an 'artist's inspiration'. She brought out the writer in me and it was at that time I decided that I want to be with her forever.

But as the day progressed, I saw her tranform into the woman I've always heard about. She started off slowly at first- her pace increasing only by the hour. But by evening she was out of control. Every second got your heart pumping and your blood rushing. She was way too fast for my liking. And yet I could see people around me loving her tempo.


Everytime I thought she couldn't get any wilder she proved me wrong. She could stop traffic if she wanted and get them moving at her command. Everyone was at her mercy and still no one minded it. It was as if everyone was under her spell as her pace got everyone's heart racing to keep up with her. They were aroused by her and she knew it. She could destroy them and they knew it. But they still wanted her. I couldn't understand it but I was as facinated as anyone else would be. To witness someone turn people on with such expertise, it was more than i could handle. And yet I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I didn't want her like everybody else did, but I still wanted to be around her. I wasn't in love with her but I was still spellbound. There was a part of me that wanted to stick around to get to know her better. But the other half warned me I wouldn't be able to handle her. I wasn't ready yet. I wasn't prepared. I needed to be sure she's what I wanted. I needed to be sure I didn't want any other.

She would never be the same all day but she would still stay the same every day. She's terribly moody and yet its not a flaw.

It makes her who she is .

It's what gives her her identity.

Its what people love most about her.

Its what makes her MUMBAI.

the whole truth

I woke up today and opened the Baroda Times to see page3 featuring a story on Goa.my heart immediately did a lil jig. i love reading about Goa. good things though. anyway, i saw the columnist's name and frowned. she gets on my nerves, this woman. she babbles on randomly, never making a point. and then she gets paid for that!

I'm digressing. sorry. I'm as bad as her!

So anyway, the title read "Has Goa lost it's groove?" and i prepared myself to read yet another Goa bashing article(post the tourist tragedies).

This time her complaint was that Goa is losing its charm. its "glamour" if you please. that people are fed up of "the booze and the beach". that life isn't getting anywhere and 'we' need more things to perk it up out there. WE?? well excuse ME if all that your life consists of is parties and celebs wasting themselves!










































I get really pissed off when people all over the country associate Goa to just a place of getting sloshed and laying on the beach. it's so much more than that!! its about the people.it's about their hospitality. it's about their smiles. it's about their attitude towards life. it's about being content with what you have. it's about being grateful for all the blessings. it's about the beauty at every inch of the land. it's about the greenery. it's about the swaying coconut trees.it's about the pleasant wind. it's about the red soil. it's about the scents. it's about tiled roofs.it's about the sound of the waves. it's about the sand beneath your feet. it's about the chimes of the church bells. it's about the hugs of the people. it's about the bustle in the marketplace. it's about the cries of the fishermen. it's about the melodies of the folk songs. it's about the strumming of the guitar. it's about the dance at weddings.it's about family. it's about home. it's about laughter. it's about gladness. it's about LIFE..




Feel Goa for what it is..not what the outsiders make it..

damsel in distress

As I stood there, at the break of dawn, I saw her; looking as elegant as she’d always been .If it were possible, she seemed even more beautiful today. In her endless gown that hid her feet, the sunlight caught the exquisite contour of her shape. The sapphire dress in its countless layers, were lined with hints of emerald. She looked like a rare gem, too precious to touch. Her dainty arms outstretched on either side, emerging from the white cottony cuffs of her sleeves. Her angelic face was tilted towards the sun, her big aquamarine eyes with its long eyelashes looking up at the heavens. her full round lips were whispering something soft and mysterious, as though chanting an ancient charm .Her locks of gold were blowing in the gentle breeze, giving her a goddess-like appearance. She looked magnificent.

But suddenly, something changed.

The wind began to hiss in a menacing tone, and her soft whispers turned into a piercing scream. I saw her beautiful face transform right before my eyes. Her eyes were a dark shade of gray now, looking with vengeance around her. Her hair slapped around her face, caught in damp locks. Her rosy cheeks were streaked with tears of anger. Her immaculate dress that once resembled a jewel was now dappled with spots of grime, dust and sand. Torn at the seams, it was now ragged and black. Her arms were moving wildly in every direction, restless and agitated.

Her wrath was frightening. No one should’ve been anywhere near her, and I realized this just in time. Maybe it was best to leave her alone. It would be foolish to stay and be caught in her rage.

Never before had I seen the SEA like this.