One tough old chestnut….

Just saw off my mother at the airport bus pick up. This diminutive lady has held herself  well this past month. Losing one’s husband is never easy for it brings upon the widow a heavy burden that grows heavier by the passing minute. She knows that road ahead isn’t easy for there are quite a number of unfinished  tasks to complete and also deal with the paperwork that one’s sudden death, brings. She has adapted to her new life of solitude with fortitude and though every step brings with it painful memories, she’s managed to keep those tears and the sympathies from relatives and neighbors at bay.

Love you mum and trust me, I know the hill up ahead is quite steep but I am there every step of  the way.

Wallowing in self-pity….

The dawn of a new year as the channels proclaim is nothing but another ruse to make you feel sick and everything short of castration. Come to think of it, the new year resolutions never help. They are the exact opposite. You don’t meet them and spend the rest of the year feeling miserable. Pick up any health magazine. Screaming on the covers that one can lose 12 impossible kgs before the year is a month old, but given the hearty after effects of partying in early Jan, losing all that weight is a mite easier than getting Tiger Woods getting his wife back.

Why am I blogging, again? Ask the lady. She is leaving these nasty 14o character tweets as a feedback. I am collecting all these in case of nasty court battle which I foresee happening soon….Ouch. Just kidding.

These past fifteen days..

Gap was intentional. So much to observe and take in. Why talk when listening gives us so much? Copenhagen / 400 run chases in ODIs / Telangana and then the about-face / Personal struggles at getting a certificate etc. Phew its been quite a deal. Shall chronicle my struggle at getting a death certificate of my father. As morbid as humour can be at such a situation, one cannot help but chuckle at the foolhardiness of the Government at following the rules to a R. Look up the latter post…

Coming to grips and terms et al.

When fate deals a blow, rest assured it is a knock out. The ‘trick’ (an extremely incongruous word in the below context) lies in being  a Jake La Motta in the ring. You survive. Take the blow on the chin and when fate is all tired and worn out, you hit back and boy! you better hit hard.

Dad’s passing away is and will always be a crushing blow. Recovery will be slow and painful and every step-up has to be a catharsis. How and when is all dependent on self with able support from wife. She’s been a great support during this tumultuous week and has always been ready with words of encouragement.

Been reading up a bit, and an active involvement in one’s hobbies and interests is one way. Perhaps the long stowed away wish of doing  a Jaldi (Quickie) Five would be the way to go. Topics would be Business (week 1), Books (Classics, week 2), Thematic (Terrorism / Aus-WI test series etc.). If wishes were horses I would be racing on Mahalaxmi by now.  Ahem, there I go again….

Love you Dad…

He certainly wasn’t a superstar for the world but he sure was one for me. Though the world did not know he was gone, lots of people (self included) sure know that the world had lost a person who was good and kind and honest than any son could wish for in a father. Assiduous and diligent (he actually built his dream home himself) to the core, he however was patient enough with people around him who didn’t match up to his rather exacting standards.

He abhorred retirement and always kept himself busy for if there was one maxim he lived by it was – A mind is a terrible thing to waste. A fitness fanatic (he trained for and ran marathons post – 60), he was irritated whenever he missed his workouts. An adventurer to the core, he toned down his life by the edge image post-marriage and settled down to domesticity and decided to test his ideas on his sons instead. His simplicity did however get him into sticky situations crafted for him by his detractors (including his elder daughter-in-law). Never the one to take a gauntlet lying down, he bounced back and was well on his way to winning the war, before the Man upstairs had other plans for him.

God bless you Dad, for yours was a life well lived and though you had SOME years left in you, I am sure your heavenly abode would give you ample rest that you’d desperately craved for.

Bye, definitely, for now….

Guilt pleasures et al…

I have been taken in, sucked in, flabbergasted by this voyeur of a show called Bigg Boss (Yes, they are numerologically devout).

What first comes across as  an overdose of mammies (Claudia, Shamita Shetty and Sherlyn) quickly settles down into an hour of bitching session. Barring doctor (Read Aditi Govitrikar) and a matronly looking Poonam Dhillon and a fallen from grace music director (Ismail Darbar quoting a bemused smirk throughout), it is a free for all for everyone sniping about everyone in the house except selves.

And boy, we lap it. The audience is as comfortable as Bakhtiyar is with Claudia in the pool and as uncomfortable we are with Rohit Verma (wannable fashion designer) as Bakhtiyar (once again!) is with his wife (Tanaaz).

Do catch it, it’s on the newly crowned champ, Colors y at 9p and tonight (Friday) it has Amitabh playing a pseudo pop philosopher. Frankly, this gentleman needs a revamp. Don’t retire for we do appreciate your mediocrity too but do come up with something else, mate.

Idiocy of my fellow primates..

Was at a quiz yesterday. They say quizzing is like sex or cycling if I were to take an euphemism. One only gets better with practice. Anyways lest I digress, here’s the lowdown.

The quiz was good. Prelims were ‘workoutable’ and the finals were even steven. Everything was going good for an early Sunday afternoon quiz. Until…

A ferocious, far from evolved human who had plonked himself behind me, decided to chatter his way through the quiz. Despite repeated requests to hush down for the sake of catching on to the ever so nuanced questions of Dhananjay, he decided to amp up his wattage. Finally noticing my apparent discomfort (there is a brain after all), he proceeded to grab my shoulder and turning me around, literally, and sporting a what’s-your-problem gaze has the cheek to say, “You are rude”.

 Thankfully the quiz got over without any further interruptions. Whilst sliding back into the seat and stretching my legs a bit, after the quiz, I notice this Neanderthal still gazing at me and lo!, he shoves his claw forward and mutters a pre-mature ejaculation “You were rude”. Thus done, and with a final look around he scampers off to his next perch. Guess it takes more than an evolution to make one civil.

On another note and giving in to the fervent appeals of my team-mate I have decided to post my Jaldi Five beginning my next post. Watch this space….

How juicy…

How juicy can the feeling of revenge be? Always thought Death was the ultimate truth and issue , staring right back and everything else pales into comparison.

But being kicked in the nuts and then hauled over coals can be quite as how a stiff upper lip would put it, disconcerting. Personal turmoil apart, the screaming and the angst whilst going through a separation brings out quite the surgeon in one. Oh, of course, minus the anaesthesia..

Celebrity Roast…

Only mine was hotter. Now, I know how a coffee bean feels like. Hauled over the coals for a drop in revenue, I knew I had it coming but this was akin to a burning coal being inserted ever so gingerly into the business end of early morning ritual and then shoving the entire bed of coals. Not pleasant but also not something that will go away soon.

Just picked up a read which seems promising but disappointed to know that it is fourth of a well known series (dunno who is going to sell the other three). Current read: The Raj Quartet. Current Watch: Swimming Pool (Charlotte Rampling is searing hot).

Too much too soon…

This has to be the classic case of too much too soon. Just this morning I was speculating who would be bagging the all important Nobel Peace Prize and lo behold, the committee goes and gives to Mr. Change himself. He isn’t exactly winning brownie points for his healthcare and economy resuscitation programs and the committee gives him a big PR boost. Well what can one say…