What makes me click

A makes me click
Ankola. My usual summer holiday destination. My grandparents house. The backyard full of coconut , jackfruit and mango trees. The wobbly wooden staircase leading to the attic. The old , dusty attic with floor made of wooden planks . As I open the intricately decorated large wooden box, a huge cloud of dust blows into my faces. I move my hands madly in thick air to shove it off , coughing heartily. In the depths of the box, the old termite infested black and white photographs. I pick the first one, its Aabu and Babai. A lump in my throat, water welling up my eyes. Worth a Click!

B makes me click
Bangda Fanna Upkari. My mother's speciality. The masala , red black hue with 30-30 red chillies ground to paste with the fish tenderly cooked in it. You can feel the delicious spiceball go down your food pipe ! The eyes water, the hanky tries hard to restrict the runny nose as you look up from the plate for more... Click

C makes me click
Corner House. Arguably one of the best icecream parlours I have been too. If you have had a bite at Rustomjee's, Fort, Mumbai or  Naturals , anywhere ;) or Mahalaxmi Cold Drinks , Ankola, or DBC at Polar Bear, Infosys Mysore, you cannot just call anyone else best without a fierce argument :) But the thick , creamy chocolate icecream and the vanilla with fresh cream and mangoes opens the faucet of water in my greedy mouth. The kiddy eyes feasting on the buckets of icecreams below "Do Not Lean Over Me" There goes a Click...

More clicks... But just not yet :)

The Beauty Shop

Even as babies, girls dream of being called "baby" . And for that, they always are ready to go the extra mile. Oh yes! They dream of beautiful mani"cured" nails , beautiful pedi"cured" feet. Can you take a break from all the curing !

I was so busy waking up early enough to catch the "Good Morning Disneys" and be up till I finish watching the DD National's  9.30 p.m. movie that I would rather sleep in the night than dream :) But as a girl child , I never remember having an undying want to have long painted nails .As our school allowed nails neither long nor painted, girls used to grow their well-hidden toe nails till they tore through their canvas shoes. 

For me, the canvas shoes tore as it is,for I tried to fit my feet into them, without untying the laces. My father , very particular about his shoes, watched me haplessly struggle with them every morning. My mother has always complained about my deep cut nails and my ugly fingers and feet. Till date, I absolutely despise painting my nails and my lips. My ex-roomie's patented comment for me each time I went out ," Your torn lips , dry skin... you are so embarassing , I do not want to go with you." One day she got so frustrated that she took me to the chemist , forced me buy a lipguard tube and creams all the while jabbering away about the cosmetic shop she had for her supposed-to-be wardrobe.

This morning as I went around shopping with my current roomie, I realised she was no less, only that it had never been so obvious in her case. We were walking down the road , sipping our semi-cold lime semi-soda. And suddenly I feel my free hand being grabbed and pulled in a direction unknown , on a road untread. The soda in the other hand flying in mid air, which could have landed back in the glass if it was the usual Tom and Jerry show, but not this time. This time it gets displaced only to spill all over the road leaving a sticky trail behind.

And before I know I am in this huge comestics store. Its smells a little weird though I have smelt it before. Its a waxy smell of the lipstick coupled with some powder that tickles the insides of your nose. Its different :D , someone inside my head says. My friend starts her quest for the perfect lipstick. Apparently it was supposed to have some kind of vitamin stick in the centre and lipstick outside. It repairs and beautifies the lips together, I was informed. Nice , I thought to myself. All I have done to anything on my lips is to eat it ;) Lipstick included. So I never bother to waste money in buying it, its taste isnt that great to be honest.

As for my friend , after she had tried all the brands available in the store on her hand. Oh yes, her hand was full with colour meant for the lips . Not to mention the plethora of calls being made to find the brand she thought was perfect. And just when I thought she had got the one she was looking for, her new wide-screened phone lights up.

"Hey it is Elle 18"

"Are you sure? I found one in Revlon!"

"No , I am sure its Elle 18"

"Ok" , she turns to the already-dejected shopkeeper, " Sorry, this is not the one."

And just like that we leave the shop. I am really happy to be out of the shop :) But just then my friend turns back and quips "Lets try the next shop!"

Why does it always rain on me!

    I complain about the AC not working all day. Sitting in one of the remotest corner of the office , I dance and sing to myself in the seat with earplugs on , so that I just get over the AC breakdown. Suddenly it does not seem as hot as before. I realize I am out of water and I go out for a refill. The drapes over one of the glass panes pulled up. Tiny drops of water covering them. Skies outside grey, the buildings drenched in the cooling showers. I rush back to my seat , push some change down my pockets and make a dash to the cafeteria. The sweet smell of the rains takes me spiraling down the memory lane.

April, a year before :

All my friends leaving. Everyone in my project gone. My friend-next-seat puts his bag to his shoulder.

 " See you then " 

 " I will come with you downstairs to see you off"

 The lift opens, " 10th floor"

 " You too must go back to Mumbai too" 

 " Maybe some day" , we exchange what-can-I-say looks.

 " Ground floor. Have a Nice day!" interrupts the voice in the lift.

   We reach the tower's main door and its raining. We wait in the lobby chattering away happily. Looks like the rain is subsiding. We exchange good wishes. I know I am going to miss this friend. Who will tell me about sites like jango , snapdeal , telugu movies and about his crazy guys night outs ;)  We smile weakly at each other and then he turns to leave.

   I call P  for tea, our regular tea time. And tea drenched in the flavour of rain, makes it all the more enjoyable. All umbrellas taken. I decide to make a dash to P's tower. As I run out of the tower, suddenly the rains come pouring down. I am drenched head to toe. My headphones are on and I cannot hear a word as its thundering and pouring like crazy. As I haplessly look around for help, I see him smiling at me.

   A smile I will never forget. I didnot know him , had never seen him before but half-pity, half-jovial smile just made me forget that I was in a real bad shape. He shook his head in disbelief, closed his eyes with the smile pasted to his face. The song in my ears became louder and clearer.

"You're beautiful its true! I saw your face in a crowded place and I dunno what to do!"

April , a year later:

   I am at the door again , the rains wetting the lawns. The same sweet smell. I cannot help but feel nostalgic. But the story is not the same this time around. No friend to say goodbye. No P to call for tea. I don't look at the umbrella stands. Just hop out in the rains. As drenched as a year back. I turn back to look where I saw him. But the place is empty. And once again, just like that , the same song is playing on the playlist but the lines that grow louder are different this time.

"But its time to face the truth, that I will never be with you"

IndiJoe... Oh no !

Honestly working continuously for days without end , weekdays and weekends all alike, takes its toll on you. You are exasperated, irritated and sour all the time. I felt like smashing crockery like Connie at times. Thank God we do not have lot of porcelain around here.  My brother calls to ask if I was labouring away on Labour's day too. He wants us to get together, oh yes the regular 6, and just chat over some good food. Then he had bowling planned for the evening. I look down upon me with great pity. While everyone is gonna have fun , I will be sitting at home , drinking my horrible tea about countless times through the day and breaking my head over some piece of code. No! I am putting my foot down ...

 " Whats special ? Whatever it is I am in ! ", I bellow into the phone.

" See ya May Day, Hay Day " , I hear from the other end. Thats all I needed. Not to know where why how. Just the fact that I will be off one day made me feel psychotically happy.

After working in office till 9.30 on a Monday which saw not many people coming in, I got home all tired . Had my evening bath followed  by dinner and again logged in to check if something new had come up. My roomie gave me an oh-no-not-again look but then retired to bed when I did not pay much heed. As the time ticked by I slowly moved from sitting up straight cross legged to sleeping on the abdomen on my bed to gradually pushing  my laptop in place of my pillow and dozing off on it. Wasnt much surprised to see Greek Latin typed on the browser tab when I woke up at somewhere close to dawn. Then switched off the lights and my laptop and slipped into deep slumber. 

Next day when my eyes opened it was already 10.30. A perfect start for a day taken off :) Had my tea which arguably tasted better. And I hear the muffled rings of my phone. Somewhere in the abyss called my bag lay my phone ringing to be answered. My hand battled its way in, cutting through infinite plastic bags , newspapers, pens , I found it ... still ringing. It was my brother.

" Are you ready?" The mouthful of tea stuck in my throat. Amidst a bout of coughing , watering of eyes and staring at the ceiling to come back to life, I finally managed, " Now?" . " Ofcourse the reservaton is for 12.30" I look nervously at the watch, it says 11.15 and I have to reach where?

 "Indijoe, you come to our place and we can drive down together." 

"I dont know the place , you give me directions and I will see you there."

" No , you come to my place. I insist" 

" Ok then"

I make a dash for the bathroom and in a matter of half hour I am out of my place. Surprisingly I get the bus in time and reach my cousin's door at dot 12. They pick me up and we reach the place in time to see the other 3 seated . We all gear up to dig in :)

My brother and his friend tell us stories of  "the" Indijoe in Carlton Towers. As they described the mouth watering dishes delicacies they served there , the glutton that I am, started dreaming of the perfectly cooked chicken , tender fish and the colourful tarts. The soup was served . Tomato it was. And the dreamy bubble took a jerk. Not a big fan of soup, I tried to swallow it as quickly as possible. 

Without further ado, the waiter served the hors d'oevres . And he kept the plate of the veg ones right in front of me. So I thought why not. First thing I put in my mouth ... Cauliflower! I look at the waiter with what-wrong-have-I-done-to-you look. He sure does not read me right because next thing I know , I am being served more of it. I do away with the flower and help myself with the chicken starters. Though not the biggest of chicken fans, the schezwan pops surely are good enough to pop them in, in quick succession. 

Now is time for some salad and bread. Not a big ghaas-phus fan, I head for the chicken salad and spiced bread. The chicken salad was good. I loved the way the perfect cubes of chicken , pepper and onions mixed in mayo , chilli sauce and generous amounts of herbs and spices. Things or rather the food was looking up . I again set out pushing through the growing crowds lining up for the buffet. 

Yes, the crowd. When we reached , it was sparsely populated but with ever passing minute there seemed to be more and more people flocking in. It was then I realized why my brother had made the reservations well before time. There were lines right from dishes to the salads, the chaats, pasta to sweets.

Somehow the chaats and roomali roti counters right next to the pasta counter did not seem right. I did not want the chaats so was not much of an issue. The custom-made pasta was very good. The thick white sauce, generous amounts of cheese and the corn. Corn ! My idea because I love corn, reminds me of the corn and cheese enchilladas I have in Crunchy Munchy. After the pasta , I thought of trying some main course. But the desserts were so appealing to eyes that I dare not fill in.

Not a paneer lover again, I did not try anything in Veg. I laid my hand or better, laddle in my hand , on the fish curry and white rice. Cooked in Bengali style , was the Bongs' favourite Rohu. Honestly I did not mind the curry though the opinion at our table was not the same. Maybe I am always biased when it is comes to fish. I so love it that in any form , I cant help but love it. Although when in comes to Filet-o-Fish , I would beg to differ.

After that started the biggest anti-climactic end any meal ever could have. The chocolate pudding was the one I had always an eye for. Chocolate is one thing I can absolutely never say no to.  I believe you the first you put in anything made of chocolate should be your teeth. And so dying to do the same, me and Prachi made way to the dishes counter. But the line ofcourse kept us from reaching the last of them. We stood there waiting for over 20 minutes just to get the plates. People around looked equally harrowed by the same.

Finally after a long wait , we got one plate hence atleast Prachi could start. Some foreigners tired of the lines, unavailability of plates and the suffocating gangway where the buffet were laid, quit returned to their tables empty-handed. Finally , the plates were available. All waiting for plates got them. The Manager made sure even the foreigners were  called back and served their fill. Finally after an half hour's wait, I got the plate and I headed for the pudding I had been looking forward to since past 2 hours. I have always believed in second helpings so I took economically the first time . And it proved to be wise. I collected the Kiwi mousse and the mango and orange pastry too. I thought I will keep the icecream for later as I have them every other day. I had half mind to skip them honestly. All excited I reached the table and scooped a piece of the pudding and put it in the mouth. The first thing I realised was there was an excess of egg used here. The smell of the eggs filled my nose , mouth and my sinuses.The pudding lacked the necessary sweetness. The star of the show had let me down. I really felt let down . I just nibbled all the other sweets in my dish only to be disappointed all the more. 

I decided I could not have it any more. I tasted the much talked of mango icecream but nothing could make up for the pudding. We paid the bill and made our way out. Though there were parts of the meal I really loved, all in all, for me, it was a downer. Maybe you need to work harder to get up from the ashes of Carlton !