I Walked Another Mile

I hold back a tear and fake a smile
But you see my pain right through it all
You said that you love me so deep, yet
Why do I hesitate to take the fall.

No one knows me like you do
Wouldnt let me cry even for a while
I fear to tread this path unknown, but
Everytime we talk I walk another mile.

Deepthi

Mrs. Indira says...

Its a real challenge to live with old people. It is a different story if the person is your grandparent, but if he/she is your landlord, you would think atleast once of committing a murder or suicide. My landlady Mrs. Indira is around 75 years old, quite fit for her age, and full of energy to irritate me.
Here is the list of things she says or do that annoys me.
She spends her entire day at the Bangalore Club, playing Poker or Tambola, boozing, and she expects me to be back every night before 9 PM.
Repeats the same thing over and over again, every time I return, "switch of the light, tighten the tap, close the door properly,..."
Every time I iron my clothes, "Dont forget to switch off the iron, if it gets too heated, it might blast and bring down the entire apartment building", really? A small iron box! how??
"No cooking after 8 in the night, the cockroaches from outside the apartment will get the smell and will come inside" Didnt know they are nocturnal.
"Do you use the water heater?" before I could ask her if she going to stop me from using it, she said "good, you know otherwise the water will go stale if not used for long, and when switched on after a long time, it might blast", I think she watches a lot of Bollywood movies.
When I'm all set to leave for office, she thrusts a mop stick into my hand and asks me mop to the bathroom!
She has to open up her album, the exact time when I'm late for something and show me the same damn photos everytime without sparing me the story of her journey from riches to rags. "You have to be thankful to our ancestors[Madrasi Tamilians, I guess]that youngsters like you have the right to speak in English.They fought with Muslim leaders,who wanted to make Urdu-Hindi the official language of India and get rid of English". I dont know what her ancestors did, but didnt do a good job putting some sense into her.
I would just go on complaining but its better I stop it here.Its really surprising that though I am short tempered I always try my best to be nice to her, She is afterall a senior citizen, and living all by herself too.

Gray Is The New Color

Yesterday being a sunday, had planned to get up late.But my land lady had to wake me up early with her weird questions. So grumbling I started with my routine work. while getting ready, I faced the mirror and what followed was not a pleasant situation. Of course the big nose and the messy hair has always been a problem but what I stared at now was what I never expected. There! in the rays of the rising sun, glistened a single long strand of gray hair!! At first I thought I saw my streaked strand of hair.But this was of a different color. It was a shock. At first I consoled myself saying this is the result of all the treatments done to my hair, but is it because of the age? I'm only 23 I screamed! My land lady knocked on my door and gave me a strange look. I looked at her hair, all white, without any trace of black, damn!

My mother asked me not to worry about it, else it will multiply! Is there any scientific proof for this? Few people believe that tension causes gray hair. Got to do some research on this. Resisted plucking it out, advice from my sister. What if I get more? Coloring is an option, but this is a sad situation. I had pictured myself with gray hair when I'm in my late forties, taking care of my family with children in college. If my father finds out he will have only one advice to give,
get married soon. damn!

Wanting to be lead again to the place where dreams came true
The sweet sight of roses and droplets of honey dew
Roses have withered but the fragrance still lingers
My mind still resounded by your sweet whispers

Days have gone by, dont see you anymore
No regrets no memories that are sore
While dreams of you I see
Dream a little dream of me

HP Habba

HP Habba, thats the name of the fest we had last week for our BU in HP, festival of no work and all play. Rehearsed for the show for 3 weeks.The week before the event were just packed. No work and just practice, realized how much I lagged behind at work after the fest. I enjoyed myself completely. More than event, I had great fun at the practice sessions. I made many new friends, now I exchange pleasantries with people I never spoke to before. And few of us call one another with the names of the roles we played in the skit. I got the chance to act, dance and even sing a couple of lines from a jingle. All of which won me few admirers.

Our team won the runner-up prize which was well deserved. The prizes were a let down. It didnt quite gratify the participants for their hard work, even the dinner treat wasnt re-imbursed, but just thinking about the whole experience, the rehearsals, hunting for costumes, the discussions about the script, evening snack time, the bus ride to the auditorium, advertising our show, cheering for our team which reminded me of my college days, screaming and whistling, praying and hoping we make it through the show without any major flaws,the tension, the smug expressions on our face when any other team didnt perform well and feeling envious of the team that did, and finally celebrating was simply superb and unforgettable.

I liked this photo of my dance, its different :)