Twenty-five Lessons - One for each Year

I know this is a bit late in the day, but I have spent many-a-day mulling over the wisdomness that I have gained, now that I am all of twenty-five. Yes, I have grown pretty wise over the years.

So here it goes ... Twenty-five lessons, one for each year.

1. Todo Para La Familia (Everything for the family)

2. Keep your innocence alive for as long as you can. It sets you free, give happiness and keeps things simple.

3. Know your nature and be true to it. It is NOT a cliche.

4. Be open to people and experiences.

5. Being afraid, is the only thing that can come in the way of your growth and happiness.

6. Give it time. Nothing ever happens before it's time.

7. Teenagers are dumb. I wish I could tell my teenage self not to take life and myself so seriously.

8. It is NEVER as bad as you think. And it is only when things get tough that you know what you are  made of.

9. Have a sense of humour and don't take anything too seriously.

10. Nothing is permanent. Especially unhappiness. It is not permanent at all.

11. Have a selective memory. Forget what you don't need to remember, like heartbreak or loss. Hold on       tight to wonderful memories, like a final moment with a loved one.

12. Click photographs. Drown yourself in happy memories.

13. The power of love exists and it can move mountains.

14. Love for love's sake is the best kind of love.

15. Loving selflessly is greatly empowering.

16. Happiness cannot be given.

17. Sibling love is the purest form of love there can be. And for that, everyone should have two kids.

18. Forgive. There is nothing in the world important enough to hold on to.

19. Have faith. Even if you don't, know that there is always a reason.

20. Be grateful. Be considerate.

21. Don't let anyone make you cry.

22. Cry. Cry your heart out. Be a drama queen. Get it out of your system and then bounce back. Fight.

23. Keep your eyes on the bigger picture, and everything will be surprising clearer.

24. Take time out to have a vision for yourself and your future.

25. You may believe you are chained, but you are always free and there is ALWAYS a way.

Can you imagine the levels of wisdomness five years from now? I'll be like God, like. Like oh my god.

*You can quote me on these, these are 100 per cent original (they only sound cliched). Copyright of Natasha Puri Kapoor.

Queen: A Review

A movie that stays with you.

I happened to watch 'Queen' this International Women's Day, and I'm glad I did. I loved it from the get-go.

I don't want to give much or any of it away, because 'Queen' is such a fabulous experience to be had, but some context must be set...

This is story of a West Delhi girl, Rani. A day before her wedding, the bridegroom calls it off, even as Rani says, 'Aap joke kar rahe ho na?' and her stubby younger brother peers threateningly at 'Vijay' through the coffee shop window. What follows is Rani's trip to her honeymoon - alone - and a wonderfully warm journey to finding herself.

That's it, I'm not saying anything else.

Each dialogue, every scene, is an experience in itself. Kangana has played Rani so well, that there is a fondness you feel for her - and other than the first 10-15 minutes of the film, never again do you feel sorry for 'bechari' Rani.

The most defining scene for me is the one where Rani is caught in a broil with a thug in the streets of Paris. This scary-looking guy is trying to snatch her bag, but the fiesty 'bechari' Rani, refuses to let go. This defines Rani for me. She is a fighter!

Kangana ensures your eyes stay glued to the screen the entire time. She is hardly wearing any make-up, which only makes her beauty more obvious. Rani is such a loveable character that I hope there is a sequel to this one. I couldn't get enough.

Another defining moment in the film is towards the end. Queen is at the concert with her friends, they have just reunited and they are thrilled. In the course of the song, it is time to say goodbye. They don't know if they'll ever see each other again. And then Rani is suddenly alone again. What will she do now? And then she smiles and gets back to enjoying the concert. In the background, the song's lyrics say, 'Kinara tu he hai'. I'm sorry if I've given too much of it away!

The story is as much about the friends she makes. The 'loose' hotel waitress Vijaylakshmi, whom Rani befriends and who opens Rani's heart and mind to the so many other ways of being a woman. That reminded me that a woman can be the best companion to a woman - in a way no man can. And the three adorable boys Rani meets in Amsterdam. Okay, I'm not saying anything else. My lips are zipped.

Queen is a journey that every woman must take. I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Is it really that easy?

All we have to do is be open and fearless and let the universe transform us, guide us.

Thank you, Queen! For reminding me :)

V-day Special: Get Out of the Friendzone

If this can't get you out of the friendzone, we're going to need a tow truck to tow you out of there.

It's your favourite day of the year and you're pretending it's really uncool. It's valentine's day, and you're telling everyone how cheesy it is. It's so uncool, man. So sappy, desperate and pathetic. Well, stop pretending because you are all of those things and deep down, you know it.

Now that we've established what miserable, lovesick fools we all are (you all are - I'm just being nice), let's get down to business. You need to get the hell out of the friendzone, this V-day. That's right, the time has come.

1. Get a haircut.

Grow a moustache, I don't care. Just look different, huh? Let him/her look at you in a new light. Now don't do something stupid and tattoo your forehead or something. I mean different good. Not different creepy. There's a fine line. Can't see that line? Then this blog is not for you. Move along.

2. Let's play.

This is the oldest, most effective play in the book. I mean, it is the Rigveda of plays (may my Hindu gods, rishi-munis of great wisdom, forgive me), it's time to play hard-to-get. Ignore her. Talk about another guy in front of him. Don't laugh at his jokes (this is going to kill him). If you see his/her behaviour changing at this point, then, mission successful. Your car is slowly but surely making its way out of the friendzone. You may no longer be the citizen of Loserville. You may not be sleeping on a wet pillow tonight, for you may not be crying your eyes out on Valentine's Day.

3. Compliment.

Now that he or she is simmering with anger like french fries in a deep fryer, it's time to (sprinkle some chaat masala and bite into a handful - sorry, wrong blog), play nice. Exaggerate a bit, maybe compare her to Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt, if you like. I don't care. Compliment him in a way that isn't friendly. Be sincere. Or fake sincerity, sincerely. But please don't get carried away and write her a crappy poem. Not yet. At this stage, if he/she is still smiling at you, I almost have respect for you.

4. The Winning Touch.

Dogs mark their territory by peeing. It's your turn now. Take some ownership give him or her a protective, a 'I'm there for you' kind of hug. This hugs lasts a couple of seconds longer than a friendly hug. Now, don't be creepy. A small gesture will help you establish two things: you'll know if the other person is interested and they'll know you think of them as more than friends. If she doesn't slap you, you're okay. If he is looking at you creepily, you're sending him the wrong signals, girl. Stay away.

5. Welcome to Lovers' Point.

Congratulations, you're out of the friendzone! Never thought you'd make it, but you did, and I'm proud. Now's the time to make the final move. Ask him or her out. If you've read all the signs right, you're never going back to Lonerville. And if he/she's the one for you, I'm expecting a box of chocolates.

Five years later...

Now you can write him/her a crappy love poem. They're going nowhere.

Valentine's Day, 2014 - Make it a happy one.



P.S.: I have nothing against single people.

Hasee toh Phasee: A Review

Anything but 'Cucking Frazy'

Okay, I can't get Hasee toh Phasee out of my mind. I think I'm still trying to make up mind if I liked it or not. No, if I liked it a lot or not. I mean, I guess it's a good movie to watch, it's better than a lot of Hindi movies I have seen recently, but is it awesome? Not sure.

So here's what I liked about the movie: Parineeti and Sidharth.

These guys are naturals, and I mean quite literally. I don't think Parineeti had any make-up on throughout the film, except for kohl during the wedding scenes. That's pretty cool, isn't it? I like her. I'd like to be friends with her.

Sidhartha Malhotra is relatable, very much the boy-next-door, and at the same time really really hot. Really hot. He has played the good-guy so well, I'm afraid Ranbir has some serious competition. Sidharth's character wasn't commitment-phobic (like most male characters in most movies these days). He was not a casanova, a playa. Bad boys move over, commitment is sexy. And thank you, dear writers of the film, for making that point.

Here's what I'm not sure of: The Mind of Meeta

Parineeti seemed so down-to-earth and fun. Meeta, her character, confused me a bit. She clearly was depressed, had issues dealing with emotions, had a high IQ but a low EQ, but at the same time, she was extremely normal. One would think, a depressed person would be, errrm, depressed? What happened there?

It felt like the writers started off with a Sheldon-like character but changed their mind, mid-way. That's what bothers me a bit about the movie. But an interesting attempt, nevertheless.

And finally, if you want to know what misleading marketing is, just look at the posters of Hasee toh Phasee. They got the name wrong. It had hardly anything to do with the story. And the tagline 'Cucking Frazy' has to be the lamest thing I have read in a long time. And it had nothing to do with the story. Why would they want to make it look like a brainless comedy when it is so, so much more? It sounds like a movie starring Govinda, Raveena Tandon and Mohnish Behl (not that I have anything against this starcast -  I am quite the Govinda fan).

Overall, if a movie makes you think so much, it's a good movie. Kudos to Parineeti - please don't conform to the bollywood standards of body image - you are beautiful; Sidharth - don't disappoint with the next film (like Ayushmann who did Vicky Donor and then went on to do Nautanki Saala! - really?); and to everyone else, go watch Hasee toh Phasee to laugh, cry and for two characters that stay with you, long after the movie is over. And to believe in 'lowe', now that V-day is approaching ;)




P.S.: A special mention to the song 'Ishq Bulava' featuring Sanam Puri, who has a distinct and beautiful voice. That song is stuck in my head. Also 'Shake it like Shammi'.

Life at PY

When you’ve been friends for ten years, there aren’t many things you haven’t done together. But when best friends are getting married, it just calls for a special celebration. This is the story of four best friends on a bachelorette trip to Pondicherry.

A seven am flight to Chennai couldn’t have been more exciting and at the airport, as we chowed down on hot coffee and sandwiches (yes, we had enough time, surprisingly!), I have to say, we had our very own ‘Zindagi na Milegi Dobara’ moment. Three best friends who had known each other since school and here we were, taking our first trip together. Our fourth friend was on a train to Chennai a day before our flight took off. This was it. 

The drive to Pondi from the Chennai airport was kicked off with some roadside-dhabba type food and we were set for a three-hour drive along the East Coast Road. Excitedly peeping out the windows, we already knew Pondi was going to be beautiful.

Aadhaar, the guesthouse where we were staying, had two rooms, an open balcony, a kitchenette open to the terrace and a bathroom that was also – wait for it – open to the sky! The balcony had a hammock – which we all scrambled towards as soon as we saw it – beautiful tiffany lamps hung from the ceiling and comfy chairs made us forget within minutes about our crazy lives back home in Delhi. Here we were, palm trees all around us gushing in the wind, the view of a lighthouse in the distance (which only got prettier at night), and a wrecked shipyard to the back of the guesthouse which had its own, old-world charm (think Titanic).

The next day we walked on pebbled streets and admired the yellow French buildings in White Town near the Promenade. We had our ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ moment when we reached Paradise beach after a short ferry ride. It was the cleanest, clearest beach we had ever seen. As four of us held hands and ran into the waves, I knew nothing could change this bond between us – not even marriage! We were all growing up, but this is how we’d face life forever, hand-in-hand. 

When you’ve been best friends most of your life, there isn’t much you don’t know about each other, but travelling together, experiencing a new place together, making such memories together, only makes your bond stronger. And I never want to go to Pondi again, for that is my secret with my best friends. It is our Narnia, our Hogwarts, and forever shall be.

Best Friends Forever

Responsible Behaviour

Everyone has only one thing to say when you get married or are about to. Okay two things. Two words, to be precise. Stability and responsibility. The two most boring words in the dictionary.

Then why do people do it? Get married, I mean. For S&R? Bleh. It is these responsible and stable adults who make marriage sound utterly boring. Screw S&R, I got married for fun and friendship. I got married for multiple F-words. How very irresponsible of me. Ha!

Think about it. Look around you at responsible people. What do they look like? What do their faces look like? The only lines on their faces are the unhappy, unseemly ones. I'd rather have laugh lines, or whatever they are called. Stability too, is overrated. A happy unpredictability is a must in any relationship, I say. Ah, when you don't know what the next day is going to be like - filled with wild, screechy, angry noises or, happier, wilder, err... pleasanter noises.

I married to be free and not tied down, and maybe that's why I don't feel that way. I read somewhere yesterday that Keira Knightley feels liberated by marriage. I feel that on most days. And frustrated on others. Marriage is a fine line between liberation and frustration. Remember to quote me on that.

To the Bakery

This is an introduction to another character in this story. I don't know her yet, but I'm waiting to find out. I think I like her. I'm sure you weren't expecting this after Destination Parenthood. I wasn't either!

To the Bakery!

I clear out the kitchen counter to make room for my new machine. But before I place it ever-so-gently on the counter, I give it a tight hug and a slight peck on its shiny steel surface where it reads KichenAid. Aah! No better words have ever been written! 'Imagine what beauties we will bake together, my pretty!' I am busy relishing this moment when a flash of white light blinds me.

‘If you’d only ever hold me so close! Now I’m a bit worried about gifting you this!’ Mayank says smilingly and then proceeds to click a dozen more photos of me and my beloved. I unabashedly display my affection for my new love and happily pose away.

‘I think you should give it a name. And a gender too. Please let it not be a man! And don’t call it Shahrukh, or it’s going right back to the store!’

‘Damn, that was my first option: SRK 2012.’ I raise my eyebrows and pout my lips in plea and he bends forward and pretends to put my beloved back in its terrible box and take it away. ‘Nahiiii,’ I shout dramatically. Just as Mayank prepares his juicy filmy retort, his phone rings. He places the machine back on the counter, pecks me on the cheek and leaves to take the call.

‘Just you and me then, Shahrukh…’ I plonk myself next to my birthday present and begin reading the instruction manual.

Destination Parenthood

Hi, I feel a new story brewing within me but I don't quite know what it is presently. Would you like to join me on this journey till the end? Don't know what will happen next really. I'm writing it as I post. But do keep your feedback coming. And remember, this is FICTION! Here goes section one:

Destination Parenthood.

‘It’s like I have two hearts now. One that belongs to my wife, and the other belongs to her,’ he says as he holds his three-year-old close to him.

I smile vaguely. I must, I suppose or what would he think of me? Haw! A mother to be who has simply no interest in his experience of parenthood? Despicable! I really want to roll my eyes at him but I dare not.

There are so many things I want to say to him: Hey, hello, good for you but I’m not interested. And so what, everyone has a child…what’s so special about you and yours? And finally, I’m just three weeks pregnant and I don’t get any of this. Truth be told, I never wanted this … this child, anyway.

All right, hold the bus. Don’t go all judgemental on me. We thought about it. You know, about letting ‘it’ go, terminat … okay, that’s too harsh a word… but well we discussed it. And I’m not ashamed of that, even though the whole time all I heard was my mum gasping from heaven. We just weren’t ready. I still am not. But here we are, three weeks and an ultrasound later, listening to Gopi chacha’s fatherly adventures. Sigh.

‘The first few months are actually the easiest and the toughest at the same time…’ Rita chachi’s voice phases in and out. The first few months once the baby is here – out – ouch – and here we are three weeks into the pregnancy. I can’t even imagine my life once this baby comes! I’m freaking out. I try to catch Abhishek’s eye and pray that the fake telepathy we claim to have becomes real for just one second. Look at me. Look. At. Me.

His telepathy with the samosa is much stronger, as it turns out. Why am I not surprised? Okay, must find a way to change the topic on my own – I am a confident, strong, independent woman, I say to myself. Go. ‘Aur, chachi, when do you plan to join back work?’ And suddenly, I’ve got more attention than I can handle. Oops.

The Joys of Masihood

Someone asked me recently how it felt to be a masi. I answered thus: I feel like a mom, almost.

That’s what it is, I guess. Ma jaise…but not quite. It is like experiencing motherhood through your sister. And how lucky I feel to be able to watch both my sister and niece grow each day. And I see a dad being born too. But me, I have always been a masi – I am convinced. Have we ever lived without this scrumptious little treat, this beautiful little doll, our Janya? How?

Ah, the joys of masihood…watching a baby grow and watching your sister transform into someone you never thought possible. This must be what they call ‘the miracle of birth’, for isn’t it a miracle how one tiny life can change so many people?

Run, Forrest, Run!

I've been running - prepping for the 10K run in October but I'm afraid I haven't made much headway yet. The thing I find toughest is being consistent and I think that's why I am not able to break my 3K run. Speed isn't great either and by the time I hit 3.5K, in Murakami's words, 'my legs start to scream'.

But I haven't given up. I am going to keep trying. While reading 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' I came across a passage that really motivated me and directly addressed my problem of consistence and persistence. This is what he says:

"I never take two days off in a row. Muscles are like work animals that are quick on the uptake. If you carefully increase the load, step by step, they learn to take it. As long as you explain your expectations to them by actually showing them examples of the amount of work they have to endure, your muscles will comply and gradually get stronger. It doesn't happen overnight. But as long as you take your time and do it in stages, they won't complain - aside from the occasional long face - and they'll very patiently and obediently go stronger. Through repetition you input your muscles the message that this is how much work they have to perform. Our muscles are very conscientious. As long as we observe the correct procedure, they won’t complain."

This is a lot like how our mind works too...and how channels and habits of thinking are created. We must not be slaves to our mind...and our mind mustn't be a slave to our muscles! Got to show 'em who's boss!

In more exciting news, I've bought myself a Pedometer I lovingly call speedy peedy (don't ask why). This way I can run in the open and still keep a track of things and that's a good thing.

Run for Sanity

I thought, hey, it’s time to start a new blog. And then I realized I already have one with an apt name for my latest passion. I am still in search of sanity, and I’m making a run for it.

Hi guys, it’s been long since I wrote … I think I’ve lost ‘it’ but whatever ‘it’ is, I’m going to get it back because, well, writing was always the first love of my life. And that’s why I hate it so much. Confused? Join the club.

So what brings me back? I’m training for a 10k run in October. Ten k, you say? What’s the biggie in that, you wonder? Well, I had started off thinking I’d run a marathon, that’s back when I thought 10k was the length of the marathon! Ha! It’s not! A marathon is about 42 kms! Who the hell can run for 42 kms! Apparently, lots of people do!

I’m starting small. I have never been a runner all my life. You remember how our ‘physical training’ teachers in school would make the entire class run around the field twice, maybe three during ‘P.T. period’, just as a formality? Well, that too was a struggle for me. Even at that age. And I am ashamed of it. There are many things I wished I could do in my life, one of them was to be able to run. Makes you think, huh?

I have spent the last one and half years trying to get myself into shape. This meant I would go for a walk for 20 to 30 mins every other day, for some time I joined aerobics classes which took place thrice a week for an hour, and again later I joined a gym where we did varied things every day, from kick boxing to weight training, interval training … the works. My stint at the last gym lasted about four months and it was more rigourous. It was while working out here that I discovered my dream of being a runner could become a reality. You see, the instructor was just feeling lazy one day and asked us to jog around the hall for 10 mins. Yeah, right! Ten minutes, continuously! I won’t be able to do this. The last time I had tried to run on the treadmill, I had to stop after about three mins because I would get breathless. But guys, I ran. I ran for ten mins and I could keep going.

This may sound silly to people who are fitter than me, or generally fit. Do you guys know you are a dying species, by the way?

All I need right now: my two legs, shoes,
 Murakami and  lots and lots of water :)

Anyway, it’s week two of training. In the first week, I jogged for two kilometres continuously, which took me about twenty minutes. I have ramped it up to two and a half in about thirty minutes. Today I ran in the park for forty minutes and I feel good. I usually run on the treadmill – saves me from the weather and lets me keep a check on the time, speed and distance covered – it’s easier, I realized, than running in the open. Since the marathon will be on the road, I have decided to run outside at least once a week.

I don’t know if I’ll make it but in all this, I really hope I transform into a runner. I’m not much of a go getter, more of an easy-going gal, so I can only pray that this passion stays on. But for now, I’m on the move and happy!

My message for today: DON’T TAKE YOUR LEGS FOR GRANTED! 

Dots of Life

I touch the leaves

Press the flowers between my fingers

Circle the garden and look outside the gate

cars are passing.

I find a stone sitting carelessly near my feet and draw patterns in the sand that fills the flower pots

The flowers bend towards me with curiosity

I carelessly drop the prehistoric pen leaving the flowers to study their new decorations

I hear a car honking and I rush to peep over the garden wall

It pauses lightly and then turns away

I do too, and begin writing on the bricks with small pieces of a broken pot.

No one's coming home to see me today 

Fighting Fire

The scene was set. It was that time of day when neither day or night exists. It was moments before dawn would break and shatter the wholeness of the dark night. The two kings stood facing each other, separated only by the thin line that distinguishes light from dark and day from night.

Like fire he burned, bright and golden, his steady arms radiating that shine and power possessed only by the sun. His fierce eyes, rimmed with dark kohl looked restlessly ahead at his enemy. The time of beckoning was here. One could not see his features clearly for there was a strong light illuminating from him, but mainly because he was their king and they feared him deeply. They had heard that in the battlefield, a brief look at King Agni could lead to a death so painful, that even the Gods dared not to show mercy on the dying man. It was hard to believe that that same king of kings was the provider of their world of warmth.

In the black of the space stood firmly King Shvet, poised like a statue, cold white fumes emanating from his body clad in silver armour. He stood still, much like the stillness of a cold winter's night. If one looked very carefully, occasionally one could trace white puffs of air flowing out of his lips, indicating any signs of life.

Just as the moon and sun adorned the sky, time stood still and the battle cry was sounded.

To Agni, it was a distant call. He was already in the air and his clawed hands were raised above his head. His body blocked a part of the infant sun as he met the king of the night at the line of change in the sky. Shvet's once immobile body now moved with sharp swiftness. His silver armour shone and clinked as it cut through the cold air. Heat thrust itself forward towards the icy night and the spectators helplessly witnessed this wondrous display of light and dark, the red flames meeting the silver fumes with sparks.

The might king dropped to the ground, cracking it where he fell. The line began to blur.

I woke up to greet a brand new day.

Ek Baar, Akele

Kabhi apni parchai se bhaag jaane ka mann chahta hai
Run, like no one's looking
Go away, without caring
Nobody calling out to me, to just vanish like I have always been invisible...

Itni bheed mein lagta hai main gum hoon
Ab tanhai mein khudko khone ka mann karta hai
I find myself dissolving into the crowd...afraid that I am not who I thought I was
Convinced, that I am not who you see
I want to dive into depths of myself while no one watches

Kabhi chashma uttaar ke dekha to sab dikhne laga
Kabhi sheeshe mein khudko dekha toh laga koi hai jise mein janti hee nahi
Take away the mirrors, take away these things that surround me
Even my reflection, my shadow...There is no one's company I seek

Aaj maine ek akela panchi udte hue dekha
Aur achanak se apni yaad aa gayi
In that moment I felt like I am missing out
Could I ever dare to go missing?

Pehli baar, imaarto ki beech sukoon mila
Logo ke nahi, 
Is there a somewhere where no love, no friendship
Can even touch me?

Aaj apne naa hone pe yakeen aane laga
In a crowd, I went looking for me.

Feeling Mumbastic: When it rained like Mumbai in Delhi

This morning was quite a wet one. Wild Wild Wet, I'd say. Delhi's not the most prepared for any sort of emergency, natural or man-made, in spite of the fact that it's the capital. So rain like this is both disastrous and hilarious.

It was quite a sight. My mom and the maid were running around the house with piles of newspaper and a puny, squeezed out dusting cloth. All the doors and windows of the house were open and the water came pouring in, as if in buckets. The electricity went out and within a few minutes the invertor gave in. So now we couldn't help but open a few doors to let the light in. My sister was shouting at my mother in concern since water and marble aren't really mom's best friends. My mom, on the other hand, was too caught up in saving her house from drowning. We live on the first floor.

Since my sister, jijoo and I had to leave (it seems strange now why we just had to leave), all the umbrellas in the house were gathered and distributed. By all I mean two. A third one was reserved by mom for the purpose of house conservation. There was brief dialogue over why going to the passport office in such weather was imperative (for didoo and jijoo) and why office work could not be done from home (for me). Fast distracted by the tonnes of water falling from the sky, the conversation was submerged under the sound of cloud bursts and we all left. While sharing an umbrella, my sister and I (of course the damaad gets his individual one) found ourselves drenched from front and back respectively.

As soon as we got into the car, the impended dialogue resumed. Why were we going anywhere, my sister asked. I was busy laughing. Jijoo desperately wiped the screen of the car while he drove.

I made it to office somehow and the parking was now submerged. Getting in was quite a treat. A welcoming committee of housekeeping boys and guards stood at the gates, furiously sweeping the water out from the main entrance. My CEO was the only other person in office. I walked to my desk drenched from head to toe and looked down.

I was wearing my bathroom slippers.