Its amazing what friends can do to cheer you up...including unleashing their imaginations. Haha. Love story by taylor swift is an amazing song and my favourite. I did a cover of it a few times in college. So the last time I was upset my friend here rewrote the whole thing.....
We were both young when I first saw you
The first dhokla we had together standing there
On a balcony in polluted air
See the dandiyas,
See the garba, the ghagras
I see you make your way through the crowd
And say kemcho, little did I know
That you were Rajni, you wer eating pebbles..
And my bhabi said stay away from all his bullets
And I was laughing on the staircase
Begging you please no moreeeeeeee..
Rajni take me somewhere we can be alone
I'll be eating all there's left to eat is buns
You'll be the ranjha and I will be ur hiriye
It's a stupid story baby just listen n go..
So I break out of my bedroom to see you
I make soo much noise, they want to beat you..
So close your eyes..
Take beatings for a little while….
'Cause you are Rajni, you are wierd
And my bhabi said stay away from dosa plate
But you were everything to me
I was begging you bring me one more…
Rajni take me somewhere we can be alone
I'll be eating all there's left to eat is buns
You'll be the ranjha and I will be ur hiriye
It's a stupid story baby just listen n go..
Rajni save me, they try to tell me not to eat,
This hunger is difficult, but it's real
Don't be afraid, we shouldn’t get out of this messhall,
It's a stupid story baby just burppp oooooohh..
Oh oh
I got tired of waiting
Wondering if you were full on eating
My faith in you is fading
When I met you on the town gola stall, and I said
RAjni save me I've been feeling so moron..
I keep eating but you never eat along
Is this in my stomach? I don't know what to eat
He fell to the ground and pulled out a ring
And said, get lost hiriye
You'll never be the one
I love you but still I love the dhokla more..
I talked to your dad, go pick out a theplaaa
It's a stupid story baby just burp ohhhhhh..
Oh, oh, oh, oh
'Cause we were both fat when I first saw you…
It made me laugh out loud...you just cant help it...its so weird and stupid and hilarious:)
God shower everybody with friends like these....Love you:)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Exams......!!!
The ultimate four words that could make the strongest students fall to their knees and cry for mercy. These are the words you cannot run away from. They haunt your once pleasant dreams and turn them into nightmares. Yup we all know what I'm talking about...E-X-A-M. No running away from it...no avoiding it...we all know it's going to happen sometime soon.
I remember once when I was in 7 grade. I was to appear in my last final exam of second language. I was quite confident and prepared for the exam. I went to bed that day thinking about it was such a great thing the next day was off and I would get really good grades in that subject. The next day my mother woke me up in the morning asking if I was sure my exam was the next day and that the school transport was waiting for me. Deep in sleep and feeling very confident I replied yes and went back to sleep. That same day my friend called me up and asked me why I hadn't turned up for the exam. I didn't believe her first but then the truth hit me hard. I don't ever remember being so freaked out ever. Thankfully I went and talked to the school officials and everything was sorted out and my world fell into place. But ever since that day there has been a certain fear for exams and even though all these years have passed I check my timetable twice a day just to make sure.
Though now things are much different. I remember my time-table all right..... just don't seem to remember what I am suppossed to do once I go inside the classroom. Now the fear is different but it's still there. Regretting has become a big part of my exam life. No matter how much I have studied I always regret not studying earlier. All the time. What's even funnier I sit and laugh about all the crazy moments i had during those few days.It doesn't matter how much I tell myself not to get scared it doesn' matter. Maybe you never really get over your fears..there's always a part of you that just doesn' listen. I am in college now and I have given enough exams to be able to get used to it but I am not.
Sometimes it's just as simple as taking a deep breath and counting to ten. But still Exams are exams.... it doesnt matter how deep you breath or how much you count to ten they will still give you the jitters everytime.
A.B
I remember once when I was in 7 grade. I was to appear in my last final exam of second language. I was quite confident and prepared for the exam. I went to bed that day thinking about it was such a great thing the next day was off and I would get really good grades in that subject. The next day my mother woke me up in the morning asking if I was sure my exam was the next day and that the school transport was waiting for me. Deep in sleep and feeling very confident I replied yes and went back to sleep. That same day my friend called me up and asked me why I hadn't turned up for the exam. I didn't believe her first but then the truth hit me hard. I don't ever remember being so freaked out ever. Thankfully I went and talked to the school officials and everything was sorted out and my world fell into place. But ever since that day there has been a certain fear for exams and even though all these years have passed I check my timetable twice a day just to make sure.
Though now things are much different. I remember my time-table all right..... just don't seem to remember what I am suppossed to do once I go inside the classroom. Now the fear is different but it's still there. Regretting has become a big part of my exam life. No matter how much I have studied I always regret not studying earlier. All the time. What's even funnier I sit and laugh about all the crazy moments i had during those few days.It doesn't matter how much I tell myself not to get scared it doesn' matter. Maybe you never really get over your fears..there's always a part of you that just doesn' listen. I am in college now and I have given enough exams to be able to get used to it but I am not.
Sometimes it's just as simple as taking a deep breath and counting to ten. But still Exams are exams.... it doesnt matter how deep you breath or how much you count to ten they will still give you the jitters everytime.
A.B
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Ammi / Maa / Mom / Umma / Amma / Mother....:)
I don’t remember the day I saw my mother first, I don’t remember the first time I called her Ammi, I don’t remember the first time I held her hand to walk, I don’t remember the first time I caught hold of the tip of her sari when I was about to have my first fall in life. But I can bet she remembers each day of my life. Probably that is the reason why prophet said you find paradise under your mother's feet.
I walked few steps, and again knelt on the floor, she kneeled down facing me, calling with her hands wide open for a hug, and each time I knelt down n crawled she went far and far and once I started with my first step she paused, held out her hands and I ran into her laps for the warm hug. She was the best friend in my life, her emotions changed when mine changed, her face lit up each time I smiled with no teeth, and she was saddened when I hurt my self. Slowly but steadily I walked holding her hands, she took me around the garden behind my house, made me reply to the cuckoo's songs, the stories of prophets and the Indian freedom fighters were common when she fed me rice socked with coconut oil and salt, taught me rhymes and was my first teacher.
She is a teacher by profession, each morning I saw her rush to her school, and I was left alone with my grand ma. Grand ma never did make me feel the absence of Ammi for the 8 hours of day when she left for work. Hours passed by multiplied by days and into years. I grew up sleeping each day hugging her, her warmth and scent made me comfortable against all the little fears I had while sleeping. Each time she found something to eat she made sure she fed me first, like the bird that collects food for its kid.
There were times of financial crunches and she avoided food so that I could be fed, she avoided her sleep shooing away the mosquitoes, waving the hand fan so that I sleep with comfort. Made sure I don’t feel any sort of pain and took it all to her. Each day I waited at the gate at four in the noon gazing at the road to see her back from work. And when she still did not turn up I walked back my head down, counting the numerous stones in the mud with a broken heart, and the sound of the gate being opened lit up my face, and some one told it was always worth capturing.
I was five years when Ammi was taken to hospital in the evening and I could not resist my tears, when I felt lonely for the first time in my life, staying home with out her, and later my grand ma came to me informing that from now onwards you are not the only kid to your mother, you should do your things your self, you have a younger brother now. For once I felt my bed of roses had thorns in it, I felt I was thrown out of the crown I was in, I protective shell around me had vanished, but Allah has made all the mothers in the world with a heart that do not show partiality between her kids, I still received the same love and affection that I used to get, but now a little more care was for the thin small kid in her laps.
Day by day I started managing things on my own, ate with my own hands, didn't hear stories of the prophets or Indian freedom fighters while I ate, made new friends at school, read new stories, started playing out with friends after school, from soccer to cricket, and when she didn't find me home after magrib, people found me being chased by her with a tamarind stick in hand. She bate when I lied, hugged when I ranked, more than anything always loved me with the same intensity.
We shifted grounds, flew from India to Doha, things around us changed, again new environment to adjust with, I grew under her care and supervision. It makes me believe the saying that, proper education begins at home, and yes it is how well your mother is natured that you develop into good students. Her role with me changed year by year, she was proud when ever I won something at the school, and she was equally depressed when I was caught for my mischiefs. The moment when my 12th results broke out, I could feel the happiness in her words; I could feel the success that she felt, right from making me walk in my early days to the moment my name was announced as the school topper. We couldn't resist our tears when I bid good bye for future studies, and each time we talked on phone I cried inside my heart for her hug and smile.
Life will go on, I cant meet her daily, we end up meeting new people, new relations with other women, they become your friends, share everything that I don’t share with Ammi, talk often to her but less to Ammi, gift the other lady than my mother, but each time I get up from a broken sleep, the first face that comes to my heart would always be Ammi's, the first thing I search for would always be for her warmth hug and her scent. I know it's not possible always that we stay together, she is there looking after my siblings like she looked after me and am alone here making my future. But her heart is always with me, her prayers are with me, each night before her sleep she prays and blows it on my sibling and father, and she blows out one in the sky, one for me.
With out any doubt in any ones heart, our mothers are the greatest gifts that Allah has bestowed on you, they might not ask us to give back the love that they have given us, it cannot be given back equally how much ever we try to, but every night before you sleep, just go and hug her saying a good night, she would be the most happiest person on earth. All the mothers have the same feelings for their kids, its endless intense LOVE for their flesh.
I miss you Ammi..!
TRK
I walked few steps, and again knelt on the floor, she kneeled down facing me, calling with her hands wide open for a hug, and each time I knelt down n crawled she went far and far and once I started with my first step she paused, held out her hands and I ran into her laps for the warm hug. She was the best friend in my life, her emotions changed when mine changed, her face lit up each time I smiled with no teeth, and she was saddened when I hurt my self. Slowly but steadily I walked holding her hands, she took me around the garden behind my house, made me reply to the cuckoo's songs, the stories of prophets and the Indian freedom fighters were common when she fed me rice socked with coconut oil and salt, taught me rhymes and was my first teacher.
She is a teacher by profession, each morning I saw her rush to her school, and I was left alone with my grand ma. Grand ma never did make me feel the absence of Ammi for the 8 hours of day when she left for work. Hours passed by multiplied by days and into years. I grew up sleeping each day hugging her, her warmth and scent made me comfortable against all the little fears I had while sleeping. Each time she found something to eat she made sure she fed me first, like the bird that collects food for its kid.
There were times of financial crunches and she avoided food so that I could be fed, she avoided her sleep shooing away the mosquitoes, waving the hand fan so that I sleep with comfort. Made sure I don’t feel any sort of pain and took it all to her. Each day I waited at the gate at four in the noon gazing at the road to see her back from work. And when she still did not turn up I walked back my head down, counting the numerous stones in the mud with a broken heart, and the sound of the gate being opened lit up my face, and some one told it was always worth capturing.
I was five years when Ammi was taken to hospital in the evening and I could not resist my tears, when I felt lonely for the first time in my life, staying home with out her, and later my grand ma came to me informing that from now onwards you are not the only kid to your mother, you should do your things your self, you have a younger brother now. For once I felt my bed of roses had thorns in it, I felt I was thrown out of the crown I was in, I protective shell around me had vanished, but Allah has made all the mothers in the world with a heart that do not show partiality between her kids, I still received the same love and affection that I used to get, but now a little more care was for the thin small kid in her laps.
Day by day I started managing things on my own, ate with my own hands, didn't hear stories of the prophets or Indian freedom fighters while I ate, made new friends at school, read new stories, started playing out with friends after school, from soccer to cricket, and when she didn't find me home after magrib, people found me being chased by her with a tamarind stick in hand. She bate when I lied, hugged when I ranked, more than anything always loved me with the same intensity.
We shifted grounds, flew from India to Doha, things around us changed, again new environment to adjust with, I grew under her care and supervision. It makes me believe the saying that, proper education begins at home, and yes it is how well your mother is natured that you develop into good students. Her role with me changed year by year, she was proud when ever I won something at the school, and she was equally depressed when I was caught for my mischiefs. The moment when my 12th results broke out, I could feel the happiness in her words; I could feel the success that she felt, right from making me walk in my early days to the moment my name was announced as the school topper. We couldn't resist our tears when I bid good bye for future studies, and each time we talked on phone I cried inside my heart for her hug and smile.
Life will go on, I cant meet her daily, we end up meeting new people, new relations with other women, they become your friends, share everything that I don’t share with Ammi, talk often to her but less to Ammi, gift the other lady than my mother, but each time I get up from a broken sleep, the first face that comes to my heart would always be Ammi's, the first thing I search for would always be for her warmth hug and her scent. I know it's not possible always that we stay together, she is there looking after my siblings like she looked after me and am alone here making my future. But her heart is always with me, her prayers are with me, each night before her sleep she prays and blows it on my sibling and father, and she blows out one in the sky, one for me.
With out any doubt in any ones heart, our mothers are the greatest gifts that Allah has bestowed on you, they might not ask us to give back the love that they have given us, it cannot be given back equally how much ever we try to, but every night before you sleep, just go and hug her saying a good night, she would be the most happiest person on earth. All the mothers have the same feelings for their kids, its endless intense LOVE for their flesh.
I miss you Ammi..!
TRK
Friday, February 19, 2010
Wanna Forget U..!!!!!
Re post again..!!!
I wanna forget u
i wanna forget evry ting v shared
every thing v did
just 4 u
all that i saw in u
and desired for
all that i filled in my heart
thinkin about u...
Its just memories
from the book thats no more..
I liked d fun n frolic
that v did togather
gifted u flowers
that bloomed then
u wer d princes
in all d stories i read
u were d music
in d songs i heard
i can forget all dat
just for u
i waited at d river bank
wer u slept
i coverd u from d drops dat made u wet
i was d sea
n u made d waves
n now i can forget
all dat
just for u
i would forget evry ting v shared
every thing v did
n not just 4 u
for i gota keep movin...!!!
TRK
I wanna forget u
i wanna forget evry ting v shared
every thing v did
just 4 u
all that i saw in u
and desired for
all that i filled in my heart
thinkin about u...
Its just memories
from the book thats no more..
I liked d fun n frolic
that v did togather
gifted u flowers
that bloomed then
u wer d princes
in all d stories i read
u were d music
in d songs i heard
i can forget all dat
just for u
i waited at d river bank
wer u slept
i coverd u from d drops dat made u wet
i was d sea
n u made d waves
n now i can forget
all dat
just for u
i would forget evry ting v shared
every thing v did
n not just 4 u
for i gota keep movin...!!!
TRK
Ticket 2 FUN...- PUNE
Re post again...!!!
After a stressd up month of september, i stood under the shower not knowing how the holly month of fasting went away, with out much prayers. And how i celebrated my eid all alone io my hostel, with al most every one leaving for their natives.
I didnt regret spending it alone, because even if i had gone to my house i wouldnt have had the fun i used to have in doha. And any ways i wanted to try out an eid alone.
It was then the bethoven tone rang on my phone, 'kaisa hai hero..? Puney kab ara hai.? My xams got postponded to abhi aja..'
tanx to the gandi jayanti n other unknown pooja's marked red in the calender, i had 10 days of holiday. I ran to the reservation counter next railway, found my sweat in vein.
No seats what so ever.
I had made my mind to go, a 36 hour journey from palghat to pune, i took a general ticket and got to the lugage rack, and made my bed. The 30 hrs of 36, went awesome, no trouble what so ever. Then came the nightmares, theifs, drunkards, n police and even some bloody hookers ran in and out of the compartment.
I had read all the prayers i knew at least 10 times.. Ofcourse its only in danger that u remember your god.
And like the calmnes after the storm, i herd ' pune pohonch gaya re baba '.
I got down and it was 12.30 am, and as a mater of precaution walked up the platform fast, not answering to any body who came my way.
Cumsum was the name of the coffee shop inside the station that i was supposed to report.
I dialed n herd ' turn back, am ryt behind you '
but he wasnt der, little tensed and though i knew that assole plays like that, i rang him again, n before he said something this time, i found him..
Hahaha, smiling like a glowing 100 watt bulb he was sitting at a table sippin coffee. Wid all the happines and yeah being proud of meeting him for the first time in india, v rushd and hugged each other. My brother from another mother.. SHUJA...!!!
The next morning, i got up wid a big smile on my face, shuja was still sleepin besides me, hehe the memories of doha rushed in to me, when i used to wake both umair and shuja early morning on holidays.
V got up and yeah got introduced to a strange guy, sabir. He was ok by looks, but had a strange way of eating, ate with his left hand..!!!
Soon met up with the rest of his friends. Naman, hazarey and d cute n lovely RADO..
v didnt have any problem mingling up with each other, although i had never met any of them before, had herd about them before.
And soon the fun started, v ate at blue nile, foodies, and east street, pulled at sabir and even naman.
Shuja rado n me always hung around togather, and she always made fun of us as gays..:P hehe, though our acts mite have prompted her to, but on a serious note 'hum gay nahi hai'
v had fun biking to khadak vasla, if am not wrong with the name of the place.
It was cold in the night and we biked with jackets and hud and ended up eating ice creams at 12 mid night.
I learned the art of making sheesha, and yeah had for the first time got kicked puffing it. And shuja had to come and kiss me on my cheeks so that i slept.:P.
Naman was very good at driving, it was fun sitting at the back with the girl who owned the car and naman drive, each time he over took a vehicle she bumbed into me. Hehe i always thankd naman in my heart for that:P
Rado was prety xcited going for the movie hello, because one of the characters in the movie had her name.. Hehe,
shuja rado n me were almost togather always, had loads of fun, we drove in the rain, hitting against the rain drops, beating the wind. Danced watching dil chahta hai, and yeah sat late nights talking talking and it was endless.
And i never knew when my 5 days stay in pune vanished like 5 hours, and when v droped Rado and shook hands for the last time, i had my heart heavy. And it was more when i left the flat no.603, at poonam building, in kondwa. Late night at 2.30, he drove me back to the railway station. We didnt talk much, as we normaly did, and both of us knew v couldn't.
And the train to chennai reached in time and we hugged for the last time, but yeah i wasnt that sad, because we were set to meet by another 30 days from then, but yeah tears did role out as the lady announced departure and i left him behind at platform no.3.
I always thought, i would never enjoy india as much as i enjoyed doha. But then i realised that its not the place where you are that makes the difference, but its with whom you are. And i am sure, as longs as i have my best friends, no matter where v live, we will always enjoy. Ticket to pune was a real eidy that i had got, from GOD...!!!
TRK
After a stressd up month of september, i stood under the shower not knowing how the holly month of fasting went away, with out much prayers. And how i celebrated my eid all alone io my hostel, with al most every one leaving for their natives.
I didnt regret spending it alone, because even if i had gone to my house i wouldnt have had the fun i used to have in doha. And any ways i wanted to try out an eid alone.
It was then the bethoven tone rang on my phone, 'kaisa hai hero..? Puney kab ara hai.? My xams got postponded to abhi aja..'
tanx to the gandi jayanti n other unknown pooja's marked red in the calender, i had 10 days of holiday. I ran to the reservation counter next railway, found my sweat in vein.
No seats what so ever.
I had made my mind to go, a 36 hour journey from palghat to pune, i took a general ticket and got to the lugage rack, and made my bed. The 30 hrs of 36, went awesome, no trouble what so ever. Then came the nightmares, theifs, drunkards, n police and even some bloody hookers ran in and out of the compartment.
I had read all the prayers i knew at least 10 times.. Ofcourse its only in danger that u remember your god.
And like the calmnes after the storm, i herd ' pune pohonch gaya re baba '.
I got down and it was 12.30 am, and as a mater of precaution walked up the platform fast, not answering to any body who came my way.
Cumsum was the name of the coffee shop inside the station that i was supposed to report.
I dialed n herd ' turn back, am ryt behind you '
but he wasnt der, little tensed and though i knew that assole plays like that, i rang him again, n before he said something this time, i found him..
Hahaha, smiling like a glowing 100 watt bulb he was sitting at a table sippin coffee. Wid all the happines and yeah being proud of meeting him for the first time in india, v rushd and hugged each other. My brother from another mother.. SHUJA...!!!
The next morning, i got up wid a big smile on my face, shuja was still sleepin besides me, hehe the memories of doha rushed in to me, when i used to wake both umair and shuja early morning on holidays.
V got up and yeah got introduced to a strange guy, sabir. He was ok by looks, but had a strange way of eating, ate with his left hand..!!!
Soon met up with the rest of his friends. Naman, hazarey and d cute n lovely RADO..
v didnt have any problem mingling up with each other, although i had never met any of them before, had herd about them before.
And soon the fun started, v ate at blue nile, foodies, and east street, pulled at sabir and even naman.
Shuja rado n me always hung around togather, and she always made fun of us as gays..:P hehe, though our acts mite have prompted her to, but on a serious note 'hum gay nahi hai'
v had fun biking to khadak vasla, if am not wrong with the name of the place.
It was cold in the night and we biked with jackets and hud and ended up eating ice creams at 12 mid night.
I learned the art of making sheesha, and yeah had for the first time got kicked puffing it. And shuja had to come and kiss me on my cheeks so that i slept.:P.
Naman was very good at driving, it was fun sitting at the back with the girl who owned the car and naman drive, each time he over took a vehicle she bumbed into me. Hehe i always thankd naman in my heart for that:P
Rado was prety xcited going for the movie hello, because one of the characters in the movie had her name.. Hehe,
shuja rado n me were almost togather always, had loads of fun, we drove in the rain, hitting against the rain drops, beating the wind. Danced watching dil chahta hai, and yeah sat late nights talking talking and it was endless.
And i never knew when my 5 days stay in pune vanished like 5 hours, and when v droped Rado and shook hands for the last time, i had my heart heavy. And it was more when i left the flat no.603, at poonam building, in kondwa. Late night at 2.30, he drove me back to the railway station. We didnt talk much, as we normaly did, and both of us knew v couldn't.
And the train to chennai reached in time and we hugged for the last time, but yeah i wasnt that sad, because we were set to meet by another 30 days from then, but yeah tears did role out as the lady announced departure and i left him behind at platform no.3.
I always thought, i would never enjoy india as much as i enjoyed doha. But then i realised that its not the place where you are that makes the difference, but its with whom you are. And i am sure, as longs as i have my best friends, no matter where v live, we will always enjoy. Ticket to pune was a real eidy that i had got, from GOD...!!!
TRK
10 years of glory..!!!
Re posting from My notes in FB
It was d summer of 99 n I was prety lonley then coz my friend pratik had left 2 india for summer and all i had was a cycle..
I and my brother used to tap bat at our varanda, and dat was d time v noticed two luk alike kids walking down stairs.. V didnt speak, just gave a glance at each other.
Later part of the day i learned from my dad that a teachers family had moved in to the 1st floor.
Two or three days passed and one evening these two luk alike kids came and rang my door and asked coming for cycling.. I didnt hesitate to nod..
Soon v wer on d streets cycling.. Oh i forgot to introduce em..
The two luk alikes where umair n shuja, and i was always confused at the begining to who was the elder 1, n who was umair n hu was shuja.. So i always used to call em 2gadr..
Days went by, v became gud friends, i didnt know much of hindi, n dey became my gurus.. Our parents are couleges so v didnt have any limits to entering each others houses..
V started of wid cycling and yeah v had d guns.. ' i shoot u die ' it was a famous dialouge then..
Cycling shifted to foot ball, we three used to play all alone in the ideal ground.
Our interests changed from foot ball to skating to family vedio games, to euro 2000.
Seasons changed, ramzan was alot of fun, where v ran for harees after asar n then direct to tennis court to play tennis.. And in the night, tharavi was not just prayer time, v bunged em after d first half, and used to run back to d white house beating d cars, beating any one who got out of d mosque 1st.
Rani juice then and sat at our adda..
Years passed out, v grew wid d time, pratik joined in so did cricket.. And the other kids of white house joined.
V had awsome eids when v went around collecting eidy n played water bombs.. Oh fuck dat was always fukin funny..
V played caroms, table tennis on our dining table.. Dat was d time shuja pulled azher's pant down..( he was big tym gay 4m childhood)
v walked to school and back togather, and even stoped eating chocobar ice creams for various strange reasons..
V went for morning walks, ate at hot n cool
Umair pasd out 12th, he xpectd 80's in math but turnd out to be 35.. Me n shuja had a hell of a time laughing at it.
Dat year i was in 11th n shuja in 12th n dat winter i got a call from my clas mate n friend zaheer.. 'hey am comin to white house to live '
soon this assole became part of our life.. He used to call daily morning to say that he got up.. It had gone to that extend that 1 day my father asked me ' are u and zaheer married '..
Life went on, shuja pasd 12th, left for india, but never the less he always usd to b back evry 2 months.. Tanks to naila..
I too left for india the next year, it was then i realised what i had in qatar and what i dont have in india were these 3 assholes... V grew up physicaly n nt cmpletely mentaly.. Rani juice shiftd to mountain dew. Hubs took over chocolates, sheesha took ova cigerates
Days passed by turned into months and years. Gals came into our lives nd did many oders, our interests of study are diverse, our lifestyles r diverse, V keep meeting up 2gather every 6 months. Thanks to the internet and tele communication.. V dont feel the gap created by the countries v are in..
We are still united, our friendship have grown to cross bariers of any kind, v r brothers from diffrnt mothers..
V have had arguments, v have had mis understandings.. But none of em have torn us apart..
V pull at each other, so much that zaheer had sealed his mouth when ever he sat wid us.
Times have passed and now its 10 years of glory to all d fun, gayishness, moder fukin jokes n great foolishnes..
These 10 years of my life would neva have been so great wid out these 3..
chears to d long lasting friendship and braader hud..
iam guoting sumfin dat umair had 1ce said, but then it would have to be completly censored...
' aye dost tere liye hum jaam bi lutalenge..
Behen **** to hum hai hi
tere liye Maa bi **** lengey..
Long Live Pappu's Kraazy 4.
TRK
It was d summer of 99 n I was prety lonley then coz my friend pratik had left 2 india for summer and all i had was a cycle..
I and my brother used to tap bat at our varanda, and dat was d time v noticed two luk alike kids walking down stairs.. V didnt speak, just gave a glance at each other.
Later part of the day i learned from my dad that a teachers family had moved in to the 1st floor.
Two or three days passed and one evening these two luk alike kids came and rang my door and asked coming for cycling.. I didnt hesitate to nod..
Soon v wer on d streets cycling.. Oh i forgot to introduce em..
The two luk alikes where umair n shuja, and i was always confused at the begining to who was the elder 1, n who was umair n hu was shuja.. So i always used to call em 2gadr..
Days went by, v became gud friends, i didnt know much of hindi, n dey became my gurus.. Our parents are couleges so v didnt have any limits to entering each others houses..
V started of wid cycling and yeah v had d guns.. ' i shoot u die ' it was a famous dialouge then..
Cycling shifted to foot ball, we three used to play all alone in the ideal ground.
Our interests changed from foot ball to skating to family vedio games, to euro 2000.
Seasons changed, ramzan was alot of fun, where v ran for harees after asar n then direct to tennis court to play tennis.. And in the night, tharavi was not just prayer time, v bunged em after d first half, and used to run back to d white house beating d cars, beating any one who got out of d mosque 1st.
Rani juice then and sat at our adda..
Years passed out, v grew wid d time, pratik joined in so did cricket.. And the other kids of white house joined.
V had awsome eids when v went around collecting eidy n played water bombs.. Oh fuck dat was always fukin funny..
V played caroms, table tennis on our dining table.. Dat was d time shuja pulled azher's pant down..( he was big tym gay 4m childhood)
v walked to school and back togather, and even stoped eating chocobar ice creams for various strange reasons..
V went for morning walks, ate at hot n cool
Umair pasd out 12th, he xpectd 80's in math but turnd out to be 35.. Me n shuja had a hell of a time laughing at it.
Dat year i was in 11th n shuja in 12th n dat winter i got a call from my clas mate n friend zaheer.. 'hey am comin to white house to live '
soon this assole became part of our life.. He used to call daily morning to say that he got up.. It had gone to that extend that 1 day my father asked me ' are u and zaheer married '..
Life went on, shuja pasd 12th, left for india, but never the less he always usd to b back evry 2 months.. Tanks to naila..
I too left for india the next year, it was then i realised what i had in qatar and what i dont have in india were these 3 assholes... V grew up physicaly n nt cmpletely mentaly.. Rani juice shiftd to mountain dew. Hubs took over chocolates, sheesha took ova cigerates
Days passed by turned into months and years. Gals came into our lives nd did many oders, our interests of study are diverse, our lifestyles r diverse, V keep meeting up 2gather every 6 months. Thanks to the internet and tele communication.. V dont feel the gap created by the countries v are in..
We are still united, our friendship have grown to cross bariers of any kind, v r brothers from diffrnt mothers..
V have had arguments, v have had mis understandings.. But none of em have torn us apart..
V pull at each other, so much that zaheer had sealed his mouth when ever he sat wid us.
Times have passed and now its 10 years of glory to all d fun, gayishness, moder fukin jokes n great foolishnes..
These 10 years of my life would neva have been so great wid out these 3..
chears to d long lasting friendship and braader hud..
iam guoting sumfin dat umair had 1ce said, but then it would have to be completly censored...
' aye dost tere liye hum jaam bi lutalenge..
Behen **** to hum hai hi
tere liye Maa bi **** lengey..
Long Live Pappu's Kraazy 4.
TRK
D Tennis court stories...!!
Published long back as a note on FB..!!
It was friday after noon, my door bell rang at 2.30.
I huried to the door licking biriyani on fingers..
As usual found pratik with a big smile and a slazanger bat in his hand. 'lets go to play, umair has gone to pick atif, zaher is down, imran is coming, emad is on his way..Hari n charan wil b der by 3 n i'l call azar now...Jaldi aa..' all that used to spelt out within a second or two.. 'oh yea, mei sabrina se tape lekey ata hu, black loo ya white..?' and he used to hurry back.
I rushd back finishd wid mamma's fud.. N just aftr i got out of d wash room got 3 mis calls on my cell.. And d 3rd 1 was prety long.. And d 4th time the phone rang, 'kidar hai khuttey..? jaldi aa, hum w8 kar rahe hai, parking mei..' oh it was umair..
Wid slipers on and no shoes, i ran to d car park.. Oh gawd all of em had come. Imran also reachd.. And v startd to d tennis court. That was supposd to be lockd by mr.Siraj aka bulldog.. But that wasnt a problem as long as we bend the grills and got in..
I, pratik n zaheer where walkin talkin about d skool team, atif n imran were talkin about d latest release, umair was walking up front swinging his bat.. And that had a quote invented by none other than him self.
It read ' a perfect shot makes a good stroke ' hahaha, omg from the least aged boys who used to come to play to the most aged ones had made a remark about it..
We began playing at 3.30. In scroching sun, where heat didnt mater, it was just cricket.. The phones were rowd up on the basket ball stand.. Two chairs were at each side as wickets.
Teams where quite similar always. There was fun n frolic, loud shouts, arguments about run outs, quarels..
I was standing at the non striker's end and pratik was bating, i just had a seconds time to realize that the ball was traveling towards me, before i could try any ting it came and banged my groin. I fell finding it hard to breath, silence roard the court and pratik said ' meine to dheerey mara ta..' every body broke out laughing..
Atif would be bating and all that zaheer does is bouncer. Poor boy gets hit on head, on chest but never gave his wicket away.
Imran would count it to cheating when he was out, and imad would blame the ball. He ran like shoib aktar but bowld like rana..N Hari always found it easy to get a knee injury..
Nakul n nigel also joined us ocassionaly, nakul just had 1 shot that was his leg side flick.. And nigel always wantd more of the 10 over matches..
Hehe, v played till every body xhausted themself, v broke the window of the toilet opposite to tennis court, v broke chairs, v broke tube lights, bats and even made cracks where we used to tap the bats.. No body botherd about our girl friends calling even if they did no body attended coz cricket was and is the first love, it is in the blood
Everybody returnd home with smiles, leaving behind the fights and arguments, it was always happy endings.. V pulled at each other, walked hand in hand back to the car park.
And now its another friday, and i sit here as a c.A under training sipping the tea that the office boy just brought.. I know i wont here the knock at my door, i wont have mis cals, no body will go and pick any one, every one are buzy with college, training, house hold tings, studys, projects and even girls...
I know v will never play in the tennis court the way v played then, even if v play v wouldnt have the fun v had, v wouldnt pull at each other, it will be just a game..
Mr.Siraj wuldnt come n shout, mr.Kartikeyan wouldnt come n discus shedules.. Its all ova.. Wat d fuck..
Those were truely d best days of our life..
And i wish i could re live those days again...!!
TRK
It was friday after noon, my door bell rang at 2.30.
I huried to the door licking biriyani on fingers..
As usual found pratik with a big smile and a slazanger bat in his hand. 'lets go to play, umair has gone to pick atif, zaher is down, imran is coming, emad is on his way..Hari n charan wil b der by 3 n i'l call azar now...Jaldi aa..' all that used to spelt out within a second or two.. 'oh yea, mei sabrina se tape lekey ata hu, black loo ya white..?' and he used to hurry back.
I rushd back finishd wid mamma's fud.. N just aftr i got out of d wash room got 3 mis calls on my cell.. And d 3rd 1 was prety long.. And d 4th time the phone rang, 'kidar hai khuttey..? jaldi aa, hum w8 kar rahe hai, parking mei..' oh it was umair..
Wid slipers on and no shoes, i ran to d car park.. Oh gawd all of em had come. Imran also reachd.. And v startd to d tennis court. That was supposd to be lockd by mr.Siraj aka bulldog.. But that wasnt a problem as long as we bend the grills and got in..
I, pratik n zaheer where walkin talkin about d skool team, atif n imran were talkin about d latest release, umair was walking up front swinging his bat.. And that had a quote invented by none other than him self.
It read ' a perfect shot makes a good stroke ' hahaha, omg from the least aged boys who used to come to play to the most aged ones had made a remark about it..
We began playing at 3.30. In scroching sun, where heat didnt mater, it was just cricket.. The phones were rowd up on the basket ball stand.. Two chairs were at each side as wickets.
Teams where quite similar always. There was fun n frolic, loud shouts, arguments about run outs, quarels..
I was standing at the non striker's end and pratik was bating, i just had a seconds time to realize that the ball was traveling towards me, before i could try any ting it came and banged my groin. I fell finding it hard to breath, silence roard the court and pratik said ' meine to dheerey mara ta..' every body broke out laughing..
Atif would be bating and all that zaheer does is bouncer. Poor boy gets hit on head, on chest but never gave his wicket away.
Imran would count it to cheating when he was out, and imad would blame the ball. He ran like shoib aktar but bowld like rana..N Hari always found it easy to get a knee injury..
Nakul n nigel also joined us ocassionaly, nakul just had 1 shot that was his leg side flick.. And nigel always wantd more of the 10 over matches..
Hehe, v played till every body xhausted themself, v broke the window of the toilet opposite to tennis court, v broke chairs, v broke tube lights, bats and even made cracks where we used to tap the bats.. No body botherd about our girl friends calling even if they did no body attended coz cricket was and is the first love, it is in the blood
Everybody returnd home with smiles, leaving behind the fights and arguments, it was always happy endings.. V pulled at each other, walked hand in hand back to the car park.
And now its another friday, and i sit here as a c.A under training sipping the tea that the office boy just brought.. I know i wont here the knock at my door, i wont have mis cals, no body will go and pick any one, every one are buzy with college, training, house hold tings, studys, projects and even girls...
I know v will never play in the tennis court the way v played then, even if v play v wouldnt have the fun v had, v wouldnt pull at each other, it will be just a game..
Mr.Siraj wuldnt come n shout, mr.Kartikeyan wouldnt come n discus shedules.. Its all ova.. Wat d fuck..
Those were truely d best days of our life..
And i wish i could re live those days again...!!
TRK
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Rain in March...!!!!!!
Winter of 2004 crept through, and I was in new companies, the old ones still remaining. The main reason was that I had chosen commerce while most of the old companions chose science. Ammi had almost gone into tears when I had opted commerce. There is a blind concept about commerce to many parents, especially The Mallus. It wasn’t a chaos in my house unlike many of my friends houses, Abbu was pretty understanding about the concept of own choice of future, all he told me was that “ study the way you want to, but make sure that you are the best in it”.
Life seemed fun, thanks to my parents for adding a new member to our family, and it was never like before, festive season at home, she brought happiness and sunshine. It was early march of 05 when the phone rang and kept ringing, I was in my bed lazy as ever, didn’t mind to pick up the call. Later I noticed that, parents had gone out for shopping, Wasiq was lying next to me and I was sure even if the earth turned upside down, he wouldn’t wake up, all he would do is ask five more minutes so that he can complete his dream. The phone rang again and I hurried to answer and there it was mute the other side for some time, With a immense joy of reunion pumping my heart I asked “ Is it you …!!! “, and the reply was “eheem..eheemm..salam alaikum..”.
Back for her two months vacations, I thought twenty four hours were not enough for us to share the whole ten months that crept by. Blank calls again started taunting Abbu, and this time Ammi too. She used to put Elfy to sleep with great pain and the very next moment the phone rang, and then I was assumed to be the main culprit. The theme then in life was ‘Pyar kiya to Darna kya...!’ We talked for hours on the phone even if she was always dead busy, the wake up calls in the morning was common on holidays, there was something that always kept us attached both emotionally and mentally. The best part in her was her simplicity, the way she dressed, her attitude towards life. I haven’t seen her even once without her scarf and her body completely covered in public, she didn’t make up, never did her eyebrows, never visited the beauty parlor every week to make her looks, it was natural and simple and she was always beautiful. It was hardly that we met, not that we didn’t try to, but school kids then didn’t have as much courage, freedom as the kids today have.
The concept of early marriages for women are common among The Muslim community and its more early if the girl belongs to The Mallu community. Which I now think Is good, not that the girl’s rights are deprived of, but it makes sure that the girl sticks to her morale always, do not step into the wrong and thorny paths of life, that she have to regret about it in future. But then I was against this early marriage in my school days, and the main reason behind it was that she was getting proposals, and her father was pretty sure about her marriage once she turned eighteen. We had heated discussions, arguments, and even didn’t cut the phones in anger. Thanks to Abbu who always has been the best mentor for me, poured his advices and in. We decided to be together as long as we can, and she was pretty sure I would forget her once she shuttles back.
School was always fun, the ups and downs with the teachers and the last year rang the bells, it was for the first time in the history of ideal that the science and commerce stream of 12th were pretty friendly. The friendship resulted in a one day picnic to Waqra and it was ultimate fun, Volley ball, pranks and Barb Q, all most all the students of science and commerce had turned up, except a few. Zaheer couldn’t turn up because he faired bad in the Informatics Exam and since Mr. Atif was his neighbor he was under house arrest. I, Niyas, Jojo, Arif, Vaishak, Faris, Ali, Sami, Aravind, and the list was long. We had fun in the sun, it was memorable, that were captured in both the digital cameras and our hearts. Azad and hafiz had to leave early and I along with Ali planned to drop them at the school. It was then I remembered that it was their Madrasa Annual Day, and even she was performing. Although I had told her I wouldn’t turn up. I made sure that I got entry to watch the show; Azad and Hafiz were great help. I ran back home, was successful at impressing Abbu and with a low tone asked permission to go and watch the show, and to my surprise he agreed.
I stepped in and found Nabeel who was one of my junior near the gate, he helped me with the information about their dressing rooms and the places where I would get into trouble. A group song was on, and the sound seemed familiar, we rushed, and it was Iqbal’s ‘Lab pe aati hai dua ‘ that was being sung, and my heart beat rose, lips went dry, I felt the whole crowed stuck and just the one lead girl who was singing in motion, Back into sense I noticed that it was my uncle who was with at the video and to make her know that I reached I walked up to him and offered assistance, he was more than happy to take me in. Standing right in front she failed to notice, but my eyes were always shooting at her eyes. Never did she look at me, nor did she lose her concentration from the song, later on Nabeel informed me about her next program that was scheduled for late night. We tried finding her near the dressing room, each time we tried each time we failed, almost around the time for her show to begin, I looked up the sky, not that I was praying something, but I felt as if a drop of water fell on my hand.
One more drop, and then it started to drizzle hard, the crowed panicked and rushed for covers, Nabeel shouted to run for covers and we both ran in the crowed, I accidently almost gave a wrong step and was about to collide on to someone but stopped, looked up and saw it was her, we didn’t know how to react, smile, ignore, get excited about the whole situation, I was blank, and so was she. The drizzle hit our faces, and we stood still looking into each other’s eyes, both lost for words and stuck in the rain, Eyes spoke, while the crowed rushed. All of a sudden a lady came and caught hold of her hand started walking, she did walk with the lady but her eyes were still on me. The showers increased momentum and I stood still until Nabeel pulled me for covers. It was filmy..!!!
That was the last time we ever met, and it was truly special, rain in last week of march was special, We knew we would never be together, nor we would meet at any juncture of our lives, another year and she would share her life with someone, I still had long way to go, pursue my dreams. More than ninety percent of first loves have failed to succeed in the world and more than ninety percent of the failed first lovers always ended up being enemies. But am thank full to god that mine wasn’t that case, although we never talk to each other now, a surprise walk up call and her name in my recent visitors list at times, always gives joy not because I love her like I loved before, but the nostalgic feelings that rushes to my heart at times rushes to her heart too.
The End.
TRK
Life seemed fun, thanks to my parents for adding a new member to our family, and it was never like before, festive season at home, she brought happiness and sunshine. It was early march of 05 when the phone rang and kept ringing, I was in my bed lazy as ever, didn’t mind to pick up the call. Later I noticed that, parents had gone out for shopping, Wasiq was lying next to me and I was sure even if the earth turned upside down, he wouldn’t wake up, all he would do is ask five more minutes so that he can complete his dream. The phone rang again and I hurried to answer and there it was mute the other side for some time, With a immense joy of reunion pumping my heart I asked “ Is it you …!!! “, and the reply was “eheem..eheemm..salam alaikum..”.
Back for her two months vacations, I thought twenty four hours were not enough for us to share the whole ten months that crept by. Blank calls again started taunting Abbu, and this time Ammi too. She used to put Elfy to sleep with great pain and the very next moment the phone rang, and then I was assumed to be the main culprit. The theme then in life was ‘Pyar kiya to Darna kya...!’ We talked for hours on the phone even if she was always dead busy, the wake up calls in the morning was common on holidays, there was something that always kept us attached both emotionally and mentally. The best part in her was her simplicity, the way she dressed, her attitude towards life. I haven’t seen her even once without her scarf and her body completely covered in public, she didn’t make up, never did her eyebrows, never visited the beauty parlor every week to make her looks, it was natural and simple and she was always beautiful. It was hardly that we met, not that we didn’t try to, but school kids then didn’t have as much courage, freedom as the kids today have.
The concept of early marriages for women are common among The Muslim community and its more early if the girl belongs to The Mallu community. Which I now think Is good, not that the girl’s rights are deprived of, but it makes sure that the girl sticks to her morale always, do not step into the wrong and thorny paths of life, that she have to regret about it in future. But then I was against this early marriage in my school days, and the main reason behind it was that she was getting proposals, and her father was pretty sure about her marriage once she turned eighteen. We had heated discussions, arguments, and even didn’t cut the phones in anger. Thanks to Abbu who always has been the best mentor for me, poured his advices and in. We decided to be together as long as we can, and she was pretty sure I would forget her once she shuttles back.
School was always fun, the ups and downs with the teachers and the last year rang the bells, it was for the first time in the history of ideal that the science and commerce stream of 12th were pretty friendly. The friendship resulted in a one day picnic to Waqra and it was ultimate fun, Volley ball, pranks and Barb Q, all most all the students of science and commerce had turned up, except a few. Zaheer couldn’t turn up because he faired bad in the Informatics Exam and since Mr. Atif was his neighbor he was under house arrest. I, Niyas, Jojo, Arif, Vaishak, Faris, Ali, Sami, Aravind, and the list was long. We had fun in the sun, it was memorable, that were captured in both the digital cameras and our hearts. Azad and hafiz had to leave early and I along with Ali planned to drop them at the school. It was then I remembered that it was their Madrasa Annual Day, and even she was performing. Although I had told her I wouldn’t turn up. I made sure that I got entry to watch the show; Azad and Hafiz were great help. I ran back home, was successful at impressing Abbu and with a low tone asked permission to go and watch the show, and to my surprise he agreed.
I stepped in and found Nabeel who was one of my junior near the gate, he helped me with the information about their dressing rooms and the places where I would get into trouble. A group song was on, and the sound seemed familiar, we rushed, and it was Iqbal’s ‘Lab pe aati hai dua ‘ that was being sung, and my heart beat rose, lips went dry, I felt the whole crowed stuck and just the one lead girl who was singing in motion, Back into sense I noticed that it was my uncle who was with at the video and to make her know that I reached I walked up to him and offered assistance, he was more than happy to take me in. Standing right in front she failed to notice, but my eyes were always shooting at her eyes. Never did she look at me, nor did she lose her concentration from the song, later on Nabeel informed me about her next program that was scheduled for late night. We tried finding her near the dressing room, each time we tried each time we failed, almost around the time for her show to begin, I looked up the sky, not that I was praying something, but I felt as if a drop of water fell on my hand.
One more drop, and then it started to drizzle hard, the crowed panicked and rushed for covers, Nabeel shouted to run for covers and we both ran in the crowed, I accidently almost gave a wrong step and was about to collide on to someone but stopped, looked up and saw it was her, we didn’t know how to react, smile, ignore, get excited about the whole situation, I was blank, and so was she. The drizzle hit our faces, and we stood still looking into each other’s eyes, both lost for words and stuck in the rain, Eyes spoke, while the crowed rushed. All of a sudden a lady came and caught hold of her hand started walking, she did walk with the lady but her eyes were still on me. The showers increased momentum and I stood still until Nabeel pulled me for covers. It was filmy..!!!
That was the last time we ever met, and it was truly special, rain in last week of march was special, We knew we would never be together, nor we would meet at any juncture of our lives, another year and she would share her life with someone, I still had long way to go, pursue my dreams. More than ninety percent of first loves have failed to succeed in the world and more than ninety percent of the failed first lovers always ended up being enemies. But am thank full to god that mine wasn’t that case, although we never talk to each other now, a surprise walk up call and her name in my recent visitors list at times, always gives joy not because I love her like I loved before, but the nostalgic feelings that rushes to my heart at times rushes to her heart too.
The End.
TRK
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