Monday, October 25, 2010

What goes around, comes around!

With the manhoos CA exams lurching and doing the Bharatanatyam like nritya on my head, I did the most sane thing expected from me....opened all my 20 kilo books, arranged them in a hap hazard way on the floor around me, sat at the center of all this storehouse of gyaan, wore my specs and made a thorough drama queen array of oh-look-at-me-I’m-so-busy-studying kinda pose.....My aunt almostttt nearly had a minor shockk.....considering that was the basic idea anyway....I mean you know cos I’m on study leave and having a girl in the house makes you the perfect target for all household this was my strategy at avoiding it...and it worked.... yes thaankuuu....*bows*

However the bottom line remains that study I must, especially considering the lukkha CA exam wala’s who only want an opportunity to show me thumbs down in front of all my khaandaan. Yes, that’s the truth...I study onlyyyy cos else, mumma will give me a grand firing, and that too over the phone. Arey bhaai it's uncool!

Right so started haa....with the magnificent subject “Financial Reporting”....tan tadannn....nah don’t scratch your head (and certainly don’t use Clinic All Clear either...they say it leads to hair fall...Dove hi best hai ji...and Livon conditioner...the maroon wala.... smells gorgeous). Ok ok, so like I was saying financial reporting is this fancy term they give for ‘Accounts’ scare our poor fluttering soul into taking short gasps.....but no, we don't give them the satisfaction....nope nope! not just yet!

Enter Non- Profit Organisations.
Now here’s the thing-

This was a topic I had right from school...matlab class you may think I am pro at it by now....but then nah not see there was this Rajni ma’am (Accounts teacher then) ka guarantee, that it would come as a choice question for our exams...and so I conveniently omitted it.
And it didn’t to hona hi tha!...and that’s when you start to get this over smart kind of feeling...the one that makes you think....I know exactly what to, and how much to study.... and you want to mock all those girls who do their homework every day and study all topics under a ‘just in case’ category....SOOO DUMB you think!

But then there is this thing called fate.

Same topic made a second appearance in a more advanced level that is, but then there is the wayyy....I didn’t study it then, and I won’t study it now! And course there was all the other baby stuff in the syllabus which formed a strong backing and I got off easy. Besides, the question didn’t even come in the exam! Second time- Yipee! :-)

Third appearance
CA Foundation.....yes, would you believe it...I skipped the chapter yet my defense- it was reallyyyy boring....but then this time, the question did come in the exam....for 20 marks and I was fact I didn’t even know how to draw the columns and what side does income and expense come....but just cos it is called as the ‘Income and Expenditure Account’ , I figured income on the left and expenditure on the right. And after that, I obviously copied most of the items from the question how difficult is it?...Money come- income, Money go- expense.....Easy!
Phew! Lucky me- I didn’t flunk!

CA Inter- No Non- Profit Organisation bakwaas----Yayayaya!!!! Finally good sense prevailed....was such a stoopid topic anyway!

CA Final- first chapter- Non- Profit Organisation Amalgamations, Absorptions, Holding rights, yaada yaada yaada.....
HAYO RABBA! What is this!!!!! Mummyyy! Turns out, this time it is at a super hi- fi level.....and I thought....Ok yaar relax...don’t panic...tried reading the content.....went directttt sar ke upar se.....opened my loft and picked the almost still shining cover wala B.Com book......searched the chapter and read it.....Ahhhh didn’t understand anything.....Then?......Opened the loft yet again.....the big black bag with dusty old once upon a time school books....and there...Class XI- Financial Accounting......after which I read every page of it, solved all the numericals as well! Buhooo!

Hmm what was it...kaal kare so aaj kar? Damn damn damn!!! Self invited problems- thy name is Sadiya! :-(

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Guzaarish- Reviewed

In case you were wondering, I ain’t on a crazy spree of doing reviews, but this here is what I typed for my magazine. And now that we are on the subject, any contribution from your end, as in articles or just plain suggestions, are welcome. Feel free to let me know in the comments section. Magazine circulation is limited to 100 copies so you are not likely to get famous and no, I won’t be paying you for it.
Hee! Thanx all the same!

The real matter now-

Nope nope. The movie hasn’t yet released and I too think piracy is a crime...unless of course you get the DVD real cheap and no one finds out....releasing on 19th November, this here is an advance review of the movie.....yaba daba dooo.....just cos I love you guys so much and can’t stand to see you gaze with starry eyes in anticipation! Besides, current reviews are all over the papers anyway. So here we both know, this is where you saw it first!

Yet another magnum opus from our very own Bhansali Ji. You know why I chose to review this one, of all the happening chatakdaar line up’s this Diwali? Because it is art at its very best! Yeah the one that normal people like me don’t understand. And despite my shallow understanding, I genuinely appreciate it *especially modern art, cos I think I can do it just as well as anyone else. Only thing is I’m stuck here typing this review, else millions were just a splurge of paint away. Or so I like to think* .Truth is, somehow, pitch dark visuals, cast talking in hand movements for the most part, and for the other few remains, dramatic dialogues in just above a whisper, inspires me no end! *eyes fluttering*

In the words of Hrthik Roshan, “Guzaarish changed my life”.....I hope it doesn’t change our life too; and make us a demented suicidal lot. Let me tell you, after We are Family and Nakshatra, our jhelofying capacity has gone up a good deal!

Yes the review- what appears at face value as the colored version of Saawariya, *yes the movie where there was a girl, a guy, a bridge and umm umm..... oh right, that’s it*. So in this one, there is the usual black and white and just so we don’t get bored, ladies and gentlemennnnn, there is also some jhataakk RED! Yepp this movie is actually, *according to our 'vishesh' sources (read- Wikipedia)*..... an ‘inspired’ adaptation of the Hollywood movie ‘The Sea Inside’.... Story of a once upon a time magician who injures himself when performing a magic trick and thereby landing himself on a wheelchair as a paraplegic for life. Events revolve around his life, his protégée and nurse.....and how he instils in them a will to live with a purpose....simultaneously fighting for his right to commit suicide. Oh that doesn’t make sense??
Buhaha! What did you expect?

The star cast with Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai in the lead seem to share an awesome chemistry.....with Hrithik nodding his head in every possible direction a head can bend; and Aishwarya playing an over-enthu and slightly mad sort of woman, washing his hair, brushing his teeth, polishing his shoes, swatting flies on his get the drift right? Also, there is Aditya Roy Kapoor who umm well has a lot of hair on his head and hobs around to learn the magician’s tricks and do Hrithik baba ka naam roshan.

Music scorecard offers a free opera like experience and there also is the inevitable number where Hrithik needs to prove yet again what an incredibly rubber band like dancer he is. Aishwarya goes twirling in circles a few hundred times for no apparent reason.

Yes that should be all...screenplay, direction, choreography..... everything is going to be flawless (Does anyone really care?)....also it would do you good if you expected a couple of really long curtains, elaborate sets, huge chandeliers and a stage.

Star rating *because it’s fashionable to do so*- None really!
What was it? Hum zamaane se nahi, zamaana hum se hai jaani! *Ok honestly, I wanted to put one, but didn’t know how to type a star*

If you end up watching the movie and think differently about it, you can choose to punish me by sending a free ticket so I get a chance to relive your torture! Ting tingg tidinggg! :-)

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Confessions of a Couch Potato

If you take me in your team, you will lose. Period.

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there was a school that was genuinely famous for only 2 sports.... Kho- Kho and Throw-ball. And there was an average so so-ish girl...who for the sake of everyone’s convenience was a in me, your heroine. This is the story of her accolades in the sporting arena *Oh the things I get to do on my blog!! Balle balle!*

Kho- kho to begin with, is this game that the gaaoo ki gori’s play.....Oh don’t get this wrong..... our school girls gave it a whole new definition......there were girls who were actually kho- kho legends and played ‘pole tactics’ that would put global athletes to least that’s how it appeared to me then.

Putting my self-obsessed foot forward, since MY kaarnaama’s in print is what is needed for a take on the game was very simple. I thought it to be a piece of cake. You run, you catch. Easy!
Huh! Shock laga laga!!! For the first (and last) time I participated..... not only did I not succeed in catching a single girl, I also lost us our semi final match and no, I didn’t really care much about that....not because I’m mean (thoda thoda only), but because the sudden sitting and standing exercise all at once had made me so immobile, that I couldn’t even climb the staircase properly.....actually needed a friend to hold my hand as I climbed down one step at a much for kho kho.....and I told myself....Chahh.....dumb game....and what sort of a name is ‘kho kho’ anyway!

And then there was throw ball......which I gave a hand at too....but all my strength mustered together didn’t send the ball a few inches away from where I imagine how desperate the team must have been to put someone like me on board....and then something terrible happened....the opponent team’s Mohamed Ali equivalent screamed “one-luv” and tossed the ball ye ghumaikeyyyyy..... next thing I knew, the ball jammed into my nose and I was on the floor.....course everyone was really nice to me then, with all the, ‘Are you ok dear’ kind of attention, but Alas! They put forth to me in the nicest way, that I needn’t be playing for them anymore. Buhooo!

Thennn to salvage the last shred of grace I had left in me, I cheered for them....but then whoever I cheered for, invariably messed up.
And that’s when my ex- team mates figured the divine sanket of bhagwaan.....That my presence is jinxed, and hence they sent me on to cheer for the opposition. Opposition lost! Muhahaha!!!!!!

There were other things I tried too......badminton, table tennis.....all the feathers of the shuttle cork came off after which my mumma refused to buy me another one and as with table tennis, well let’s just say I didn’t quite get the hang of how the service thingy is done. The only thing however, that I did do a good job, and mind you, even won a gold medal for, was The Grand Needle and Thread Race. Now that’s the sort of thing Olympics should be made of.

Despite my terrible success rate, till date I try my hand at a couple of sports that seem attractive and have minimal chances of me rendering irrevocable damage to myself or other players.....for instance two tappa (bounce) cricket with my brother and the other colony wala baccha log (it’s my fevretesttt sport of all time)...and I don’t want to brag, but I think I’m pretty good at it......after getting two chances of batting (cos I’m a girl!! Like duh!!).....I almost score as high as 20 runs on a bright sunny morning.....if that’s not talent, dude I’d like to know what is!

It’s too bad that my boss pays me so poorly and I can’t afford to go to Delhi, else I just may have won two or three medals for myself. Ahh well! Might as well just settle for watching IPL on SET Max with my big bag of Lay’s.......Sirjiii it’s dillogical!


Friday, October 1, 2010

Everything is fair in Love and War?

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 15; the fifteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Zaid walked on what had once been the railway tracks of the Al- Hadithah station. Now they were sodden planks of wood that were trodden upon only by vagabonds. It was a deserted station with no trains. Unchecked public transport was too risky for a place like Iraq. He climbed the ledge towards a crumbling building. This was one of the few structures that had been spared by raw American militant gun power. What was the use of snapping down a dead place anyway?

The militants were wrong. This was what formed the meeting place of the Ansar Political Party.

Numerous difficulties in life had made Zaid strong. But his strength had caved in when it came to saving his own mother. He had needed money to save her. This unfortunately was a land where you either had ancestral farms or worked for the Americans against your own people. There were no other jobs. It was a crime to dream, and foolishness to ever imagine a business would flourish. In his helplessness he had been hired by the political party of the district to run errands. But the pay wasn’t enough for his mother’s medication. He knew she was sinking and the best he could do was get her to the hospital with advanced facilities in Baghdad. In her last days, he had asked for a loan. That was a mistake.

The party leader had agreed to give him the money in return for a small favor. It was to keep a package in his custody until a man named Nayeef Asad collected it from him. One condition. No questions were to be asked. He knew deep down there was something forbidden about it. But this wasn’t quite the time to think or argue. At the time, he had no other choice. He agreed. The parcel was handed to Nayeef. He now had the money with him. But his mother did not live to see it. His only pillar of strength was gone.

He didn’t need the money any more. The reason for his struggle was over and there was nothing else to do but return it. He hated the sight of it. And there he was again. At the station building, to meet the party leader as he had done once before. He stood outside and overheard two men talking-

Oh give it time Ali. Once the bomb Nayeef plants burns down a militant tank with a few of their soldiers, the Americans will be like a pack of wolves. They will kill every living person in sight. We will show footage of civilians being killed to the media, and before you know it, an uprising will begin. The world will throw these American jerks out and offer power to the one that promises peace. US!” he jeered.

For the first time, Zaid cried. He had saved the tears at his mother’s funeral. But this time the guilt shook him like nothing ever before. People were going to die. And he was instrumental. He had to stop it.


Yashfeen waved back at her husband. She had been married for a year and they were expecting their first child anytime now. Being brought up in Jordan, she was initially terrified of a life that was war prone. But love had made the imminent threat seem small in contrast. She had pleaded a million times with Haamid, her husband, to move away to another country. However he had always waved it away by telling her the same thing. “How can one leave one’s own country? We are all in this world for a stipulated time and nobody will live a second longer or shorter. Besides, here we have our family, our land. What will I do in another country? Would you want to deprive our children of what rightfully belongs to them?” She couldn’t reason with that and had to settle for this life. She was happy, no doubt.......but there was an insecurity. A nagging feeling like everything was a dream and might snap away in a split second.

No, this wasn’t the time to think sad things. She had to be happy. For her child. For Haamid who loved her so dearly. As he left to meet his father, he kissed her forehead and said, ‘You are glowing, my dear!’ She blushed and waved him goodbye.


Zaid quietly walked out of the building, onto the abandoned platform as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard. He had to find Nayeef and stop him from planting the bomb. The pouring rain blinded him, but he walked on. He tried to recollect the conversation Nayeef had had with one of his men the other day…..of plans to leave for Haqlaniyah.

He begged the occupants of a car to take him to Haqlaniyah and they agreed. There still remained the problem of locating Nayeef.


As Yashfeen got on with her daily chores, she heard a loud explosion that sent the house in vibrations. The worst was going to happen. Something in her head and heart knew it. She ran downstairs in an attempt to reach her in-laws who lived next door and almost immediately caught a glimpse in the window, of militants breaking open their house and firing at the entire household. She ran towards the house for what may have been too late to save anything.

Three minutes is what it took……and there was silence again.


As they neared the city’s outer limits, Zaid noticed a military tank that had been blown up on the road……..and a little away, a house that was now partially up in flames. He ran towards the burning house and could hear the faint screams of a woman. And he rushed inside to salvage what he could. What he saw shook his very soul. Smoke and blood everywhere. The bodies of helpless women and innocent children stared at him. The sight made him want to throw up and his head ached uncontrollably. But the woman’s screams kept him moving.

That’s when he saw her. She wreathed in pain and anguish. Her eyes were filled with tears and the pain was excruciating. In that moment she wasn’t sure she wanted to live at all.

He lifted her out of the burning house and she let go of her consciousness. With no vehicle in sight, he walked on until they reached a hospital. It was already crowded with casualties from surrounding areas and there was no electricity.

Zaid pleaded with the staff to take the woman in and finally a doctor yielded. The whole day was a blur. He couldn’t find forgiveness in his own eyes. And he did what his mother had told was best. He prayed.

After eight hours, the doctor conveyed him tidings of a baby girl. He was taken to see the baby and the mother. As he sat at the edge of the stool and held the baby, an unbearable sense of guilt flooded him. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He had left this kid without a father and widowed a woman. He looked at the woman in deep sleep and an overwhelimg emotion tore him apart. 
He wanted to protect her. To bring back what was lost. To make everything ok for her. And he made a vow.

He didn’t know if he could ever ease her pain and fill her sad eyes with just a smile. He didn’t know if he could ever make her want to live again. He didn’t know if he could ever get her to forgive him, much less accept him. And most importantly, he didn’t know if he could ever get her to love again, much less love him.

And she opened her eyes. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. But try he must!

Note- Although the story is fictitious, the incidents related are true as what took place at the Battle of Al- Hadithah, Iraq, in 2005 where over 400 civilians lost their lives purely due to instigation of American troops by internal political parties for their selfish motives. It's a shame!
 Life is a gift....If only people knew how to value it!

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