You were always on my mind

Maybe I didn't treat you

Quite as good as I should have

Maybe I didn't love you

Quite as often as I could have

Little things I should have said and done

I just never took the time

But you were always on my mind

You were always on my mind

Listening to this old Elvis number, over and over again, and by different artists, (fave being Shakira’s rendition) I just cant but sit back and think about the new ‘relationship’ I am into.
Before all of you start calling me, and/or congratulating, this new relationship is that of mine and my supervisor. Again, hold on to your horses, and as I go on with this blog, I ask you to keep an open mind, esp one that is ready to pay heed to my imagination.

Its like this, this supervisor- subordinate relationship is like a marriage, an arranged marriage to be more apt and appropriate for my situation. Two months into the organization, I was presented with a boss, said to align myself to him, no one asked me if I would like to be his reportee, or would I fit. It was just decided, that this is how it will be.

But, like any relationship, this one had its lows and lower lows and some highs. Point blank, I didn’t accept him as my boss. I would rather rave and rant about how good my other project heads and bosses were. And that I didn’t think I belonged here, with him in his team. And that I was an MBA and way better off utilizing my skills somewhere else. I had a superiority complex, and I made sure people understood that. I made sure that he understood that. His patience by the way has definitely impressed me. For two months, he never screamed, never said “I am your boss, and you bloody well answer to me”. He gave me time and I guess that’s what makes relationships work.

And I did finally come along, it took me 2 months to accept my boss as my boss and to adapt to new guy was difficult . and the fact is that he is a good person, he is honest and straight forward, and protects me a lot. But I took a lot of time to understand him and what I had, that I didn’t have a boss who made sure my Sundays were spent working et al. I had to learn to adapt to his behavior, to understand what ticks him off and try to avoid it. What does the voice modulations mean, does him saying "yarrrrr" mean he is angry. I am still learning by the way. And the most important realization was that he had a right to ask questions and command / demand answers. And you had to be subservient to him. Not in slavery kind of a way, but again like you would be to your spouse at some level.

And during these 2 months there were so many times I wanted to bail, one night recently was spent crying in front of my dad, telling him I cant survive this job, organisation, *this* relationship. But they say 'tis the darkest before dawn'. And soon enough, in fact within a few days I did get a dawn, a new begining so as to say. His helping me out on what was my project, made me realize his intelligence, and respect his experience, however different they might be from what I am looking for myself. And I guess resistance faded away, and came in the stage of acceptance, and moving on.

Of course, I feel we still have issues. And I know now, cos he chooses to speak of them, am sure he wouldn’t have if I still were rebellious. And his suspicions are correct. I was looking to bail on him, and I understand he has trust issues with me, and that he doesn’t wish to include me in certain things or just doesn’t connect the two.

It’s funny, seems like things are getting better, and this might just as well end up in a “divorce” ie me moving internally in the organization to another role. And maybe after a while, even if I have moved on internally he would be one person I would always remain in awe of. And it should be an easy one, if it does come to that- I am trying everything in me to stop it- it will be easy for there isn’t much history, anger, fights within us. The communication gap was so high, that I didn’t even know whether my boss had come in to work today or not. And I didn’t care either.

What is most appealing to me in this little case study, is that is this going to be my behavior when I get married- real married not work married. Am I going to run on the first signs of trouble, wanting to bail? Or will I endure the rocky roads and strap myself in for the long ride. I guess the coming month should tell me that. If I can retain a boss, for shizzzles I can retain my husband!! Well at least all the “last bites” I have been having should help!!

Take care All,
Good night and Good luck!!

Meghna

22122009

A Fairy Tale

Okay children, huddle up near the fire, put your little feet into the quilt, Nana Meghna is going to tell you all a story. It’s a fairy tale..

Not so long ago, in a land not so far away, stayed a young princess. She pined for a lovely prince, bravest and truest of them all. And so, 24 years went by like a spring afternoon spent in the garden.

In the kingdom where she lived, was a great big messenger service. So, our princess forlorn, decided to join the “Royal Kings Messenger Service”, and became a “good news giving messenger”. Her task was to travel door to door, window to window, and even dungeons to dungeons, giving the people good messages, from loved ones and the like. Her work took her to exotic lands, but none of these lands could provide what the princess truly desired. Then one fine day, the chariot the princess used for delivering the messages “The good messenger chariot” had a beautiful new member. He was the most handsomest prince she had laid eyes on. So bright with courage, and unforeseen chivalry, a disarming smile and the earnestest of desires, it wasn’t long before the princess fell head over heels for her “Prince charming”. He too returned her favors, but only thru his eyes, for he was a nobleman, and a noble prince would never take advantage of a lady. And for she was a lady, she could never confide in him the feeling she so possessed for him. And so, while they were in the chariot, they never took their eyes off each other, but never spoke either.

One day, finally the prince spoke. He said that he was going to a land far far away, ne’er to come back. The princess was astounded, but still managed to have the prince reveal where he was going and when was his ship sailing. She had a weeks time to convince the prince otherwise.
Crying and despondent, the princess went to her best friends, a hyper little girl squirrel names Hammie, a beautiful singing bird name V, and her favorite jungle creature and the best hug giver of all lands, a bear, called Kare Bear. They told the princess, to tell him, and urged her to. She couldn’t “say” those words to him, she had hardly known him. So they suggested, “why doesn’t the princess use the very service she gives. Send the boy a messenger message. Why lord knows, Cupid might himself deliver the message”. She chuckled. And so V was asked to fly up to the prince and give the message,

If thou feel-eth, what my heart feels, if thous’ heart beat-eth, like a jumping frog be,
Then meet me O great knight, in the garden of serenity, before befalls the night.

He agreed, to meet her. As the princess was about to leave from her castle, she was stuck by something so evil, so heinous that only the lords could save her soul now. A spell was cast on her, chaining her to her house, till the prince doesn’t leave. She didn’t know she was under a spell and hence sent one message out, for her friends groveled for it. She sent it to her love, asking him to go and not wait for her.

After the prince left, the evil wicked witch laughed, and came to the princess and said, “do you really think I would let you have the prince? He is mine now, for after marrying him I shall become more powerful than other mere witch or wizard in this world”. She now fully understood what was happening. The prince was under a spell. That compelled him to go to the far away land, in search for the witch.

The princess knew what she had to do. She had to save the prince… but how? It was then her old uncles old friend, old wise Wisdom Tree, whispered,

My dear, if your love be true,
Save your Prince don’t be blue,
Give him a kiss so true,
And let that be your only clue.

Now, she was set to sail the seven seas, find her prince, and bestow upon him the kiss of true love, to uplift the evil spell. She would need a lot of help in that, she would befriend new people in the far away land.. and she would set her prince free, and his free will would be to love her too.. OR WILL IT??

..... To be continued ...... Coming to you ...... Post Christmas ...... PART DEUX!!! ......

<3

Meghna

03122009

Ode to Mistry

Okay, here is my first JV on the song writing front.. Thanks to my dearie JMCite and IMIite...TUTU.. those who know us, me and her, would know whom I am talking about... and would know that the best plans, creations, etc happen when she and I join hands (i mean my hands and her paws.. :D) Exhibit one was SAPMAN.. now for Exhibit two!!!

(Prelude: tutu made me and i mean MADE me appreciate this young innoventor (meaning inventor+innovator) of sorts... and I being very Bridget Jones, thot immediately to court him. Ergo, the idea to be-frand him on Facebook and the like... Here is what my/ our FRANDSHIP request to Mr. Mystery ( i know, cheeeeeky) would read liek... )
OUR ODE TO (INTELLIGENT SINGLE YOUNG) MISTRY

Me: saw u in TV
and now u lives in my heart
Tutu: hhahahhaha!!!
and occassionally comes out in my fart!
Me: pls let me living ur heart too... and also USA
haha
Tutu: so now i think it's time for us to start!
chuck microsoft ..let's go to walmart!
Me: hey come on, u mite like science, bt love is an art
Tutu: and when we are happy, we'll both wheel-cart
Me: let u be the board and my love the dart
Tutu: becoze u, oh u .. deary ..u re my only sweetheart!
Me: and i dont want us to ever part
Tutu: in am ur cream and u are the tart
hey ... no wonder i can take a pest like u ... coz u can come up with stuff like this!!


The bolded part was bolded cos it shows that she does infact LOWWWWW me..!!!
The basis of this poem, well.. we were bored..!! Perhaps her blog shall put forth the argument better..!!

She will claim otherwise ofc.. let her... :P

Take care Delhi, goodnite!!!

What IMI did right!

This is an article I wrote for the Alumni Mag 09 of IMI. Its quite straight from the heart, and my fear being it might end up on the chopping board (there goes path breaking journalism :D ). So here it is, trying to see the light of the day.

What IMI did right!

Why I think IMI groomed us well for the corporate world.

I think we are a very critical people. We tend to look and point and linger onto peoples’ shortcomings, nag them of their failures and remind them of their shortfalls. Which is exactly what we, I, did in the last few months of me being at IMI to the time I finally got recruited to my ‘Dream Company’!

“The placements weren’t handled well”
“We weren’t taught the right things”
“The exam system is a mockery”

Sounds familiar? Thought so. Doesn’t matter if you had passed out of IMI in 1987 or were born in 1987 and are now a part of IMI student community; you aren’t a true blood IMIite until you critique it and talk on the aforementioned terms.
Well, let me be the “Devils’ advocate” here. (Very loaded terminology, I am aware)

What IMI did right!!!

These views of course are personal, and are derived out of my understanding of what was the final product delivered to me by IMI vis-à-vis my learnings as derived from my Aircel experience so far.

» These things are the tasks IMI and its people (professors, staff, students- seniors and juniors) made us do. It is only now I realize the relevance of it.

» I also choose to elucidate my top three choices of what I think IMI did right. For more of my choices or to share your views, please feel free to email me.
Allow me, for the ease of reading, let me do a myth-reality kind of setup here.

What IMI did:
Why it was right:

I. What IMI did: Made us not beauty sleep for 10 hours a day and Lion sleep for 16 hours on weekends.

Why it was right: I think the answer is obvious. You really don’t get to sleep for more than 6 hours on average during the week (debarring the hectic weeks of budget planning, operating plans, XYZ calendar creation etc).
(It is 1 am as I speak.. or type rather. Have just finished my days work about half an hour ago, have to finish this article, catch a few Z’s and wake up at 7 am. You do the math.)

II. What IMI did: Made us check our mails (and be well connected always), every thirty seconds, especially the PlaceComm mailers requesting candidature at 1 am, and deadline being 15 minutes.

Why it was right: Day 3 at my job, my senior colleague, trying to drill in the importance of being connected and online said, “Meghna, you will have to on a regular basis, verrry regular basis, keep on checking your inbox. Every hour, every minute if possible I need you to check it.” I think she expected a look of utter despair and distraught to appear on my face depicting my ignorance of such matters. Alas, she was disappointed.

III. What IMI did: Being lassie faire in its overall approach.

Why it was right: I think it gave us a chance to safely test our abilities to plan and manage ourselves. It gave us a chance to learn to be our own managers. Because there will be times in your organization when you feel about as directionless as a headless grasshopper. I am still experimenting with this, and in my limited capacity, dealing with it. Hence not many derivations here, work still in progress!

Moving on => The point(s) I am trying to vehemently drive thru this little article/ exposé are:-

a. Your organization will be as good or bad as IMI (in terms of “hands on/off” approach; of being too laidback and uncaring or being too involved and nose poking; and in terms of the presence of red tapism.)

b. Your organization will be as good or bad as you perceive IMI to be (point being the organization can be a mirror, a Monalisa as they call it: it will show you what you are. If you think IMI isn’t proactive, ask yourself honestly “Have I done anything to be more observant and proactive myself?”. If the answer is yes, then Kudos. Chances are you don’t see IMI as pure evil).

My advice to the students still in IMI: - Use this time as your ultimate “Trail and Error” Period. Learn how to go around the obstacles, or go thru them, to find loopholes and optimize them: do whatever you want to/ have to do, to achieve your target. If IMI frustrates you, it will also teach you how to improve your process of dealing with it.

At the end of the day IMI is a pretty decent place to be in for 2 years. Professors, Sirs and Madams of IMI, thank you for all the on-the-job training.

Take Care!
<3
Meghna

The Curious Case Of Crazy Chennai Characters!!

The Curious Case Of Crazy Chennai Characters!!
Part 2: Aiyo Madam!!!

Right, morning of 29th July. Wednesday, 7.20 am. Summit 1. Taj Mount Road, Chennai.
A dutiful Meghna walks into the banquet hall. She is a good 15 minutes late. No body cares. Ouch that hurt!!!

I walk over to my sweethearts, Kavitha (Kavz) and Gracie and ask how I can be of assistance. I am given the difficult task of sorting thru some files, into alphabetic manner. But, I protest, I am new. How can I do that? Oh dear. Is there someone out there, to hear my prayer, and help me here. What, whats that I hear? Is that the sound… yes, that is the sound of my white knight in shining armour coming.

Well, white knight is kinda dusky. And shining armour is Taj’s black, unflattering, gay uniform! Still. He asks if he can help me. Of course, said a flabbergasted me. I was too out of my element to play the damsel in distress. Especially when he asked how do I put them in alphabetical order. And I pointed to the name tags at the bottom of the files!!! Ahh, one criteria still STAYS!! The guy was dumb!!! Hallelujah.

The next guy person I saw was Karthi. Came over said “Hi” and all of that. Charmer that guy was, is, always will be!!! Some of his lines made my day (all of them are in a non-pick up way. He is 46 years old and has a 13 year old daughter!!!). Top five are:

1. Meghna. Nice name. don’t hear it much in Malaysia. Such a sweet sounding name. Meghna!!!
2. I saw this tamil movie recently. The female protagonists name was Meghna. She was a really sweet character. As I am sure you are too. *Meghna blushes to no end*
3. Intelligent girl she is (was said to people other than me. DUH!!) Words like ingenuity used for me, which honestly have never been used to describe me!!
4. Little puppy looks, puupy face, puppy eyes. PUP!!
5. You were a joy to have to come to know. *awww*

Anyway, moving onto the proceedings of the day. Me sitting there with wide eyes, blank stare, trying to absorb what the frick was happening around me. Took me a day or two to come terms with my surroundings. There were briefings after briefings by my boss, my other boss, May and Grace, and Kavitha. Was so lost. The obvious things weren’t so obvious here. Like, why the kinda cute manager person, who was a Punjabi and ergo-WHITE, wasn’t a hit with the girls here. Delhi gals would be flirting with him and getting their way with him. Instead here, he and we were logger heads. OHHH-KAAYYY!!! Interesting. And then, kavz’s best friend seemed to be her boss. OHHH-KAAYYY. Why the malls were crowded every day, sale or no sale, weekday or weekend, 9 pm or am!!! OHHH- KAAYYY. Or why the taj boys knew more about the program, my program than me!! NO-KAAYYY!!!

Anyway, soon enough, the deer-in-the-headlight look faded away. And I started to show the real me!! Ah yes. The silly, self deprecating, witty, very amorous Meghna Singh. And of course, weirdly enough as always, people liked it. Who cares, they love me, they really do love me. Smirks*

I don’t know when, but soon enough a bond was created between me and the girls, which helped through the seemingly ling 18 days. But actually, the days went off so quickly, that I want to relive them now. Taking in every second slowly and savoring it. Savoring every sad joked we cracked at the devil, screaming Stella, stealing-NO, scratch that- borrowing without asking cookies, rasam, trays and God knows what not!!

Soon enough the realities of these girls also started unfolding. Like how May’s petite frame is just a cover up for that glutton gremlin!! How if you ask Kavitha one question, you will get answers for around 25 questions that you may or may not have. And that during the answering she doesn’t really stop to breathe, so that you can snuggle your way back into the convo.

(What babes, thot I was going to spare you!!!! Reminds me of your quote, “pay her for rs.10 worth, she will act worth rs. 100” Hee hee. Come on, take it in the right spirit Mrs. Devil)

• And Grace, don’t know where to start and end. The accountant turned training consultant turned photographer turned wants-to-be Indian bride to but-i-wanted-that-bag-so-i-didn’t-know-what-to-do: as kavithas and my jaw hits the ground!!!

Soon enough the taj guys also started shedding their polite, there to serve you, good old boys of taj training bit. And the polite taj boys turned into normal boys.

• Mani: all the smiles get double if you take someone’s case in front of him. And the next time he will join in to pull their leg. Not to forget his threatening the telephone fixer dude, when our Miranda Priestly was going to bang on our heads for screwing her meeting via a telephone related mishap. He tired his best to not let us get screwed too much. Alas, his efforts went vain. We still needed the ciggie at the end of that!!

• Karthik: My god this boy!! Here is an actual conversation that took place between our gal and this guy.
Its 9.15 at night. Kavz is still stuck in the banquet hall, sending emails. (talk about the devil wears prada, tamil version. Aiyo, Devil Amma wears Pothys)

Karthik walks in, smiles at kavz.
Kavitha (all earnesty on face, apologises): Sorry aa, Karthik, two more minutes ma!
Karthik (as translated into English by kavz to me): Yeah yeah, that’s what I was wondering.
Kavitha (almost happy at his un-taj-liness!!): gigles!!

• Sugu: Damn good observer, doing his MBA in HR. once I was standing holding a damn tray, as per my KPI, to be Chennai’s answer to Mansi. Sugu walks by, looks at me holding the tray in his direction, smiles and says, “No thanks”!!!

• Thiru: too sweet. Only taj dude to get us cappuccino without having to order. Also, doesn’t eat chocolates.

• Arun: Chennai’s answer to Shewwwwww!! Didn’t feel like saying anything Meghna-ism to him. Was scared that I will ruin his innocence.

• And not to forget the devil himself, with that sorry look on his face which hides the smirk, “please Kavitha, how long will it take” Idiot. He was stupid enough to bribe the wrong people!! Khi khi… Instead of appeasing people who would actually take a decision whether we come back to his hotel and his services for our future programs ( ORRRR at least would play SOME part in that decision making process.), the idiot was appeasing the consultants and the like. My god, I cant say it enough, IDIOT!!!

And I guess, thanks to these character, the 18 days went off so quickly that I was still left asking myself, what just happened.

They truly did become my family. We had mummy and the stupid sister and the best friend and the uncle that no one likes and the sasu maa!!! within the few of us.

The night before I was to leave Chennai, in fact, I had coached myself thoroughly, not to do a tearful bye-bye. But I did do a very tight bear hug goodbye ceremony. :D itna toh chalta hai!!! And when I got kavz and mummy’s message on the way to the airport, I almost had my cab turned around!!
The only respite was, when I was boarding the plane to Delhi (beside the fact that I was going home to my family!!!), was that I will see some of them again in a months time.

I guess the city was/ is as important a part of this as the people. My first real corporate job, this was my first city of functioning. It was surprisingly quite, sweet and accepting. And I guess, somewhere during the 18 days here, it was quite evident that it was one of the cities I could actually settle in.

Rehna tu, hai jaise tu, Chennai!!! :)

A Meghna Singh extra!!!

More Chennai masala in the same price!!!



Figure 1. "Meghna in Gracies' room, with Gracies' sunflower", in reference to Points 1 and 5.
31st July, 2009, Taj Mount Road, Chennai


Top 5 SUPER reasons why I like Chennai over Delhi now:

1. Everyone there thinks I am super pretty. “Meghna, you have the face of a model” “meg you should seriously consider modelling” etc.


2. Everyone there thinks I have super nice singing voice. Yeah!! Even I don’t believe that one. Had them repeat what they said, told them the ‘north Indian’ reaction to my voice: *Slap* Shut up!!


3. Things are super cheap there. So more things: read items of clothing nature: can be bought in the same amount.


4. Certain characters. *female Chennai readers don’t get excited. These characters are those characters from whom I prefer to get hugs from* Especially since these characters fall in the TDH category.


5. And am not always the most dark skinned girl in the room. No body gives me any grief over my slightly dusky skin. Cheers to that!!!

Crazy Chennai Characters Part II, coming soon to a blog near you!!!

The Curious Case Of Crazy Chennai Characters

The Curious Case Of Crazy Chennai Characters!!
Part 1: The wobbly beginnings.

Back after an 18 day work trip to Chennai. I know it sounds worthy of a lot of blank looks, so here's’ a little on what’s happened:
Got a call from my company around the 23rd July stating they need someone in Chennai from Monday. Okay sure said I, interviews happened, and I got selected… blah blah… within 1.5 days. Friday, 4 o clock I got my offer letter. Tuesday morning I joined!! (In the middle days I went on a shopping spree for my new job, plus a trip to god knows where.)

The entry into the office was not-so-auspicious. Got stuck in the office elevator for 20 minutes. “Speed” movie’s opening sequence flashing thru in my head. And, I thot to meself to message my new office people I will be late. Either late time-wise, or late Meghna Singh!!!! Okay bad time to think of jokes, I thot to myself. Oh and btw, I was the only girl in the lift. So all the men were staring at me, waiting me to crumble under the pressure and break into tears. I didn’t. I was having a hard time hiding my smirk. Well done God! Got me fooled into that I got the company of my dreams and that I had made it! Okay, finally the gates opened. Alas! No Keanu Reaves. Anywhoooo, proceeded to my office, with very shaky knees now!!

Couple of hours into the day, I reminded them that they might need me in Chennai. I thot, and here is where I faltered, I thot they mite need me to fly out the next morning or something. Wrong. They need me to fly out in 3 hours. Frantic calls made to mum. Start packing. Not knowing where I would be made to stay, if I would have a laundry facility etc, mum packed me ready for a war. Everything a person might need for 3 weeks, were pushed into my bag.

3 weeks!!! Seemed enormous at the time. 3 weeks away from my family, at a place so far away where I cant guilt them into coming for a visit. Sad faces would be in order, but didn’t have time to do that. Had a flight to catch. Finally boarded the flight. Damn small aircrafts. They shake and whimper like a kitten during the takeoff. Bad weather, turbulence all the way, and bad reminisces of the fact that its all an elaborate plan of God to give it all to me and then in an instance take it away by- yes- killing me. Sneaky fellow, HIM!! Finally. 2 hours 35 minutes over. Landed in Chennai. Still alive. Yes, praise the lord.

It was around 8.30 pm, when I had finally overcome the language barrier and told the driver who had come to get me how to find me. Sitting in the car, I confirmed with him, “bhaiya, hotel pride?” the hotel that my company had made reservations for me at. Allegedly!!!

Bhaiya, rather, anna replied, “No madam, Hotel Taj Connemara”. Nahh, they wont put me up there, would they. They wouldn’t and they didn’t. I was to have dinner there and go. Oh, maybe there are more people from HR team there that I am supposed to meet. Little did I know. There was our COO, my boss, international guests, and around 50 odd employees!! All senior people!!

This I got to know only after I entered the conference hall dressed in a lycra kurta, jeans, sports shoes, bad, messy bed-hair and a big laptop bag. Oh damn. Yeah. But at this point of time I was so above such humanly emotions! I had been thrown into the deep end of the ocean long before. I was just realising that the ocean was made of quick sand, and there were meteors falling near my quick sand, and there were little blood sucking Egyptian cockroaches on my neck… You get the idea right!

Anyway. I sat motionless thru whatever presentations that were going on so as to ensure least bit of attention onto me. The presentations ended. Met my boss, met my team. Apologised profusely for my attire, ate the most uncomfortable dinner I have ever could have imagined. And then excused myself for the night and headed for my hotel. Ps. thank God, my boss is a nice lady!!!

Oh here the alleged reservation part comes in. I asked the reception desk person, “reservations for Meghna Singh?” No. Gave my company’s name, city. Nope, nothing on the system. Irritated, frustrated, on the brink of screaming my lungs out, called my saviour, Herbert sir. Apparently, as soon as I said, hello Herbert sir, the hotel desk guy was like, yeah yeah I know now! Idiot.

Then I proceeded to a pretty lavish room, considering my post, and tenure with the company. But I guess it pays to be a girl. You are taken care of. Called my parents. Was on the brink of breaking down over the phone. They sensed it too. Couldn’t help it. Was damn tired, in a foreign city. So far away from them. Didn’t know what the heck was going on. Had no free wi-fi thing. Just a very very expensive LAN connection. Did connect to it. Spoke to my other saviour. AD. Who convinced me not to cry my eyes out that night. But I still did. That is Meghna Singh at her best!!!
Next morning had to wake up at around 5.45 am (YEAH, I know!!!) to reach Taj at around 7. Little did I know that for the next 18 days I was the only person to be anywhere on time, and will be the first one to reach anything/where. Arrgh!!!

> End Of Part 1 <

To be continued…

Special mention to my Chennai sweethearts here. Kavitha: She didn’t know me much, but didn’t rag me at all. Me being a newbie and all. She was all like, you can come a little late. We all are coming around 7.30. come aaram se!! And all of that.
Taj boys: made our live easier, funner, and most importantly filled with choclate cookies. Cant wait to yell out my version of STELLA again. The boys were sugu, Arun,Thiru, M.O.N.E.Y, Karthik among others. And then there was the devil!!!

The IBM squirrels: I don’t know where to start!!! May and Grace. Truly international, but contributed to some good unadulterated Indian fun for the last 3 weeks!!
More on these characters to come later on!!! Actually am sure rest of the blog will be mostly about them, their antics, and the fact that they became my family in Chennai. Yep, we had mummy, my twin sister, my friends, my buddies, my crushes, and of course the- guy-that-we-all-liked-but-no-one-owned-up-to-it!!

About me

Well, I was finally out of things to write in the "about me" section and hence I concocted this little rap/ rhyme whatever. (This is the extended version :D)

















Yo, Yo, Yo,

let me tell u a story, but it aint gonna be pretty,
cos its about me, not exactly a perfect young lady,

Here it goes, Yo!
*Chorus: give it up, give it up,for the lady,
Meghna Singh,come shake your booty*

quite a contradiction, she is an addiction,
too much of her can seem like an affliction,

*give it up, give it up,for the lady,
Meghna Singh,come shake your booty*

wears her heart on her sleeve, falls love so swiftly,
does the chase and gets bored with everything so quickly,
oh she loves them boys, oh them cutie pies,
loves 'em even more if they sindhi, have names ending with a "NI"
even the hollywood superstar sweetheart gotta be CLOO-NEY!!


*give it up, give it up,for the lady,
Meghna Singh,come shake your booty*

loves her soul sisters, her friends,
a sweet little group called the tamarinds,
its nothing less than the ya-ya sisters,
and their motto, "sisters before misters",

*give it up, give it up,for the lady,
Meghna Singh,come shake your booty*

Now, I am tired of sounding so concieted,
I'll get back to this rhyme, once i m well rested!!

*giving it up... giving it up..*

Everyone join me in this now.

Me: God, m so vella. *U SING*
Everyone: God, u r so vella,
Me: Hey, m so vella,
Everyone: you are so vella!! You are so vella.. You are so vella...

*everyone keeps on chanting: You are so vella... You are so vella...*


Peace y'all!!!

Thank You, New Delhi... I love you!!!

“I wanna be a STAR”

I had an epiphany recently.

(which was... read on...)

I had always thought I was a romantic, the kind that pines for love, the kind of kindred spirit that searches for its other half… you know all your regular starry eyed movie stuff. And it has always eluded me. It was always a glance away, a few steps ahead of me; it’s always been a tease. Exasperating isn’t it? Or at least sounds so. And this got me to thinking, there has to be a rational explanation why this irrational feeling called love dodges me.
But really it doesn’t really evade me always. There have been a couple of times that I had come very close to having it, to having someone special in my life… and I did a 180 degree turn and walked away. Every time. I walked away from love. Not many in this world dare to this. And I would convince myself that the person isn’t right for me, or isn’t a perfect match. In a way, now I know, it was the right thing to do because I wasn’t looking for love.

That’s when I had my epiphany. It was not love I was after, it was something similar yet so very different I was after, which I had confused with love. I was after “stardom”. It is totally opposite of love is all about: being the alone with someone special, living for them and only them and not caring for the rest of the world. But they are the similar too: when you are in love you are the star for the other person. I am enamoured with this feeling, of being the only important thing in someone’s life. And obviously like love, stardom is addictive to the extent of being destructive. But the most important reason I confused my search for stardom with love was because when you are in love, you promise the other person to be a witness for their lives. To be there to celebrate everything about them, and ensure the world wouldn’t forget about them. And that’s what I want. I didn’t want a life which would go unnoticed except by a few people. I want don’t want to be forgotten, I don’t want to feel invisible. I guess that’s why I want stardom, the attention of all. It’s almost stifling for me to think that I would live my entire life just being Meghna Singh: a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, a friend. And nothing more. Not a great leader or an Oscar winning actor or business empire builder in league with Bill Gates and Donald Trumps of the world. Just another one of the millions of “people”.

I guess, this is one of the reason I actually like Paris Hilton. Because she refused to go down in history just as a “Hilton empire heiress” and actually made something of herself- and I am not here to discuss her methods. But what I am do admire about her, is that she is an entity in herself now. And not just a mere carrier of the Hilton genes.

It shouldn’t be too surprising for the people who know me to understand. I have always, always thrived in attention.

Anyhow, I guess the realisation was the easy part. The hard part is the “coming through”. I somehow have to find a way to be this star. Till I do achieve that… Good night and good luck. Yes, another George Clooney (or should I say cloo-ni!!!!) movie.

The scrubs-isation of my life.

“Change begets change” said the janitor in the season finale of Season 8 of ‘Scrubs’. And as I peered into the screen, into his wrinkled and yet sparkly blue eyes (yes, I do kind of have a crush on the janitor, no thanks to a certain raunchy profs definition of a janitor. "Janitor, yes he is guy above all in an organisation. He is above all the lawyers and the partners. He knows all information even before the CEO does!!” said the prof with all earnesty!! And you wonder why we still don’t have jobs. We were taught all too well!!)

Anyway, the point I am pushing here, is that everything is changing, and not for the good. Read on…

So, they have packed their bags and they are out of here. Its so hard writing about it, because it makes me sick to my stomach, thinking vini n karu are not here with me right now glaring into the laptop and asking repeatedly, “what you writing?? chal neeche, pandeyji par…” They are in Mumbai, in fact, starting their professional careers. And I am still stuck in Delhi, as usual. Too much is changing here. Divya had a baby boy, and as soon as I learnt of that I just couldn’t help but imagine how different our worlds are now. I even hesitated calling her, because I didn’t know what, how to talk to her- a mother.

Same story all over again here. I have been hesitating sms-ing them, or mailing them leave alone calling them and asking how is it going, and that I miss them so much already. I don’t know if its worse, because I don’t have something- A JOB- to look forward to. Maybe that is why I yearn for the good old times.
And that’s not even the worst part. I think the tamarinds had to disband before we could reach epic heights! In Scrubs talk, I wish had more time with my Turk (s). Yep I get to be J.D., the main character.

And if all this change wasn’t enough, the season finale of ‘Scrubs’ was so damn emo-gutted that it would make even Vini cry. And I am an amateur cry-er. I hate sitcoms getting over more than I hate my friends leaving n moving on. Sitcoms and their kind are supposed to be long running, utopic places, where friends never lose touch and people like osama bin laden don’t exist.

Ironically, the soundtrack of Scrubs is totally appropriate for me tho…

Well, I know what I've been told,
You got to work to feed the soul
But I can't do this all on my own
No, I know, I'm no Superman
I'm no Superman

Aaarrgghh… I am too emotionally wasted to write this further… peace out!!

PS. Some scrubs lingo I have picked up and should be effectively whacked out of me:
1. I'll holla mah brotha!!
2. Angry, self destructive talk.
3. Calling everyone, boys, girls, dogs, SALLY/ JINA/BRITNEY/ LISA and other girl names!!!
4. Repeatedly answering with a MM-HMM, and jesus is watching you!!
and the list goes on n on n on... u get where i am going with this arent u margaret??

Oh, THAT kid!!!

Another satisfying read, by one of my.. err um… our favourite blog author. I say ours because it is Ronald’s favourite too, infact it is her who introduced me to this weird world of south Indian chutney. Tho I doubt she genuinely likes the author, or her writing style, or what she writes. She seems only to be interested/ enamoured by authors who are younger than her. (I swear tis true, in the past she had introduced me to two more blogs, one of a 17 something girl from Mumbai, and one of an engineering college guy, who was in love with one of his professors. And offcourse there is this one, CC, who is just 20) I think she pings me (and/or whoever else is online) to tell me about them, so that she can hear herself say those precious words. “Can you believe s/he is younger than us” smartly avoiding saying me, and says us!

And I love the way Ronald pings me to tell me about her great finds! She thinks she is some 50 year old scout who found the next Sachin Tendulkar on the streets of the internet. She would with great wisdom in her voice say, “and can you believe this kid is just ”, she says savouring the last sentence with great pleasure. “I mean I couldn’t even pronounce my name properly when I was their age”. I don’t think she still can.

You can’t blame poor Ronald, she has always been the youngling everywhere. But then again, her “feet stomping, holding her breath till she turns blue” protesting every time we call her a child, doesn’t do much for her maturity argument. :D

I think she and I are called/ named/ pointed out as the embodiment of Tom and Jerry (as purported by karishma n roops), but I think we are more of Dr. Cox and JD! Me the gorgeous, rolling-on-the-floor funny and brilliant torturer and she the awkward wide-eyed newbie!

In case you were wondering Ron, whether my torturing you would stop once you run off to Rajasthan, I guess you gots yours answers sir!

Meghna Singh, in and as “Jog Fu HR Panda”

Disclaimer: I still do maintain that writing heart wrenching; melancholy stuff is way more beautiful and harder than writing this seemingly mindless rambling about burps and farts that I wish to now tread.

My father has now taken up the role of Seiko, in my life’s adaptation/ rendition of the Kung Fu Panda! Not only does he help me answer and understand the usual questions about life like every father has to, must and does; he is also been my mentor in the field I have taken up as my choice of career- HR. He is by the way the best mentor ever. He gives hugs, dresses up as Santa on Christmas eve (still!) and also lets you rest on his tummy while you watch movies.

Now he has added another dimension to it. To reform this Phoo Phoo Panda, into a Kung Fuing HR Panda. Now the questions/ quizzing on ID Act are followed by a 75 minute jog in the nearby park. *silent sigh. He was the parent I used to look upto in the “eating and not caring” department. (I also look upto him in the “loves shopping and not telling mummy what I recently bought” department). Mom was always too “bird like eater” to be liked. But dad, he was Homer Simpson, the nonchalant burp-er (told ya this post was about burps and farts :D ). He was super cool, till a few years ago. Then the exercising bug got to him. Now mother (emphasises on the world to ensure coldness) had to physically stop him from stretching himself. He was eating right, exercising, and dolling out advice to me and the leprechaun. With great pain in my heart, I had accepted that aliens had abducted my dad and sent in this make-shift, cheap, not eating, jogging maniac replica daddy.

Readers legit query: Why would the aliens kidnap my dad in the first place? They don’t need him for his HR expertise. Their punishment and punishment strategy has done them good all these years.
Me: Well a) how the hell do you know what has done them good all these years. *raises eyebrow. Whispers to self “It does look one of them”.
And b) they kidnapped him cos of his innate awesomeness. Did I not mention the cute pregnant belly bit?

I had accepted this dad, and learnt to also ignore the advices given to us, the regiment he implored us to follow. Well the regiment had one great chink in its armour of applicability. It needed moa to wake up at 7 in the morning. No can do imitation-of-daddy-alien-person!

Anyway, as me and brother mastered the art of ignoring father, like normal children must at some part of their lives, he dropped this biggie of an antler on me. Utilize your unemployed month and get some exercise. Well he had a point there. I was unemployed still, and eating out his pocket in this recession hit time. So exercising would lead to my intake of pocket-hallowing food being lessened, and also I had a moral obligation to do so, since he did mention my unemployed ass was getting bigger and bigger by the day. *rolls eyes.
So I thought the father-daughter duo could use some bonding, and agreed to go jogging with him every evening. (Should have just weaselled my way out like the lawyer did. God, he is intelligent!)
So, me gets ready for a time that will inspire movies, the great bond between a father and daughter strengthened while their calf muscles also got strengthened. Boy was I wrong. Some facts about my jogger father:
a. He doesn’t like to talk (in general. Thought to kick you off with a no brainer fact about father-ly person of mine)
b. He carries his cell phone n head set, which means as soon as he steps into those jogging shoes of his, he cant hear a word you are saying.
c. If you do need to say something to him, it better be said while he is changing radio channels.
d. If you aren’t jogging 33% of the time, he will refuse to acknowledge you in the park.
e. He has given nicknames to all the ladies who come to the jogging park. They are pretty cute ones too! Like the headlight lady, who always uses her mobile phone’s lighted screen as headlights to manoeuvre her way when it gets dark. You get the idea.

Readers legit query: don’t you have lights in the park?
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. NO!!! We do have an open septic tank- more like a pool- there for the kids to play around, in… whatever.

Some of the facts about his Panda like daughter:
a. Only goes to the park to check out boys. They do look lovely running and all!! *flashes a toothy grin.
b. Gets royally ticked off if someone overtakes her in the park. Will try to tailgate them and push them off balance.
c. If ever she outruns her dad, will stop and quickly retrieve to a 5 step radius of her dad, like most 1 year olds do in the park.
d. Cant get it quite right: how do you keep the earphones from falling off your greasy sweaty ears whilst you run?

Readers legit query: was this bit on you needed??
Me: $*%^&.. its my blog init?

Anyway, it sounds not that bad eh? How bad can it be to have Santa Claus as a jogging mate? Well REAL bad. I do call him Seiko for a reason. I suppose he has had an encounter with the Tylon (lawyer) of the family. No wonder the Seiko like insatiable standards. :-| Poor Phoo Phoo Panda!! Also wondering when will he begin his food as incentive training.

Anywho, I cant believe this blog has actually turned out to be this long.
Now an unrelated blabber, courtesy dysfunctional brain activity in me head:
You know what I hate the most about the liberties boys have. Its not the fact that they can wear shorts anywhere anytime, or that they don’t have to be afraid of being teased as they walk out of their door or that they are given preferential treatment in families. What my bone of contention with boys is that they can publish, put up their mobile numbers as their profile names on orkut, as their status messages on gtalk and the like without fear or inhibition. Life aint fair.

My experiments with blog writing.

12:03 am by the clock

<< Back from a successful midnight snack hunt, satiated and still wide awake, ready to write. Whoever said artists need to starve to create great stuff, sure din have my fridge to savour on. Or maybe he just meant those Paris painter artists. Because almost every writer I have known seems well fed, and some what of a gourmand! Makes mental note: read more into the dietary habits of well known writers. >>


I have decided to demarcate my blogs into the funnier ones on Meggs.. and the more sentimental ones, and of course the more in numbers also on Something… avid reader (yes reader not readers) of my blog have certainly appreciated this. maybe the melancholy got to them. Of course there are other readers who just don’t care… but hey, Kotler never said that your target group can’t be just one individual.

<< Another of those sleepless nights it is, thanks to the training MBA has given me. I still don’t know what the heck a HR person is supposed to do, but sure can give chaukidar bhaiya 101 tips on how to pass the night without nodding off!!

Movement outside bedroom door. Bhaiaya’s room opens, and he treads towards the loo. One of the many trips the brother sister duo makes through the night. And if we were to ever cross each others path in the pursuit of this, we would pass each other unacknowledged. This wasn’t my idea, m sure. I am the more hello-er and hugger kind of a person. He is the unhappy leprechaun! Also, being the older one, his word is the rule here. Must have been his idea when we were kids to play agents-operating-on-the-enemy-soil-don’t-recognise-each-other strategy. God knows, maybe he is one of those people who cant pee if he knows someone knows he is peeing. GAWD, talk about being self consumed. Anywhoo…
Pursuit for words to write.. think think thi…
Corner of my eye notices movement… Lizard alert, lizard alert!!
Head spins into action.
Brain cell no. A 4359, “This is dispatch, we have a code 0889”
Brain cell no. M 188, “aha, lizard alert. Follow protocol.”
A 4359,”Yes sir”. Types in the big head central computer thingie. “All senses alert, code 0889, follow protocol”.
So, now that my head has acknowledged the thread and sanctioned me to follow protocol I will. Oh and if you were wondering what Protocol is for code 0889: “Commence staring the lizard, follow every move, no sudden moments except those of the eye. See where it is going, and make a mental note of its habitat. Also, keep throat salivated, in case you need to scream”
So, the staring game begins. Wait, the lizard is staring too. Brain cells feverously type, and retype strategies. We will continue staring in hope to win the staring competition and force the enemy to back down.
Staring, hard, harder, harder….
10 seconds up… almost 15 up… eyes watering. The lizard, still cool as a cucumber, still staring.
Don’t blink Meghna, don’t blink…make the lizard blink first. Wait a minute, does the lizard even have eyelids?
This strange conclusion makes me raise and eyebrow, seeing which the lizard retreats!!
Ah, the sweet taste of victory. I smile, as I picture my brain cells hi-five-ing each other, and opening little champagne bottles! Well done my friends!
Now what, oh yes, the writing. >>

For the first time in years, I don’t think I am in love. And hence the lovey-dovey part of my writing has taken a break. And so I am struggling. With words, with inspiration, with searching a topic to write of.

<< Bored already, tunes into the radio. Hears some lady saying most happening music over and over again. Oh yes, its Saturday night. All the radio stations play good foot tapping number off some “99 back to back party hits” album. It is their attempt to make those of us young and unlucky enough not to be out partying like the rest of the town feel worse. Imagine this: all of the people you know are at some brilliant little pub or lounge, having cocktails and partying, while you are at home rummaging through leftovers to make a decent midnight snack in your “daddy’s little girl” jammies. Then as the sadness of your existence dawns upon you, you tune into the radio, trying to zone yourself out. Only to hear those stupid tracks go on and on making sure the fact gets resonated that you in fact have no life! worse, you have a zindagi. Yes my dear pals, that’s the dainik jagran reading, himmesh reshamiya listening, ZINDAGI!!! Lets out a silent sigh>>

20 minutes later…

<< Nothing, not a word!! Why god why? I struggle to find where the screen of the laptop is, because my vision has been temporarily blocked by what I call ‘medusa’s little wormy snakes’ (!!) better known as my hair. Its that time of the year again. Its hot, the fan is at its highest, makes me want to go bald because of the hair flying everywhere. And if you let it rest somewhere, like make a braid or something, that part of the head just heats up. And then we start losing brain cells. That’s how A 4359 lost his wife. May her .. err… do brain cells have souls? If they get one, I want one too!!
Anywhoo, and the worst part is when people (read Ronald and its kind) meet me and say “wow such lovely hair, why do you curse them all this while? They are so good! And look so manageable.”

Well Ma’am looks are deceptive! They are like pairs and pairs of twins, like octapulates. I know how you feel octa-mom! They seem all cute and cuddly when they are all well fed, and bathed and dressed and out in the park. But try keeping them for a day. The combing and the washing and the cleaning and the straightening of these babies!! I could spend half a day just combing through them.
Now what… brain zones out… muscle memory settles in and takes charge, and begins to systematically crackle every of them 206 bones in my body. I once did count how many of my bones I make chatkao. There was the phalanges, the spine, the neck, the knees, the shoulder… you get the idea!>>

The dearth of words and the inability to find them has made me ask a very important question to myself: was this all there was? Was I like the one-hit wonders, or that scent-making master in the movie ‘perfume’ who made a famous scent when he was young and that’s all there was to his genius? Am I over, am I all written out, all consumed nothing else left in me? If so, am I right in writing myself off? Maybe I was the one hit wonder, the one-love wonder. Makes me wonder more, and more of his importance in my life, was he the only one capable to inspire me to write so?

<< Smiles at self, intelligent piece that, writing myself off! Now what, more procrastination? No, or Ronald would call me the queen of melancholy and melodrama once again. And I don’t want everyone reading that AGAIN.
Also, wonders if I have been mentioning Ronald too much here? Well, no one else seems to care. :-|
GENIUS I am, with the discovery of the holy grail of emo-cons |
Movinggg on…. Almost 2 it is. Need sleep! >>

Dozes off. And oh, if you are thinking whether I finised the blog for something-so-anything, well you will have to go and see it there!! :D Good moro!

iWonders

Things I am wondering these days:

1. Is Darwinism like a jogging park and its incumbents? The slow walkers overtaken by fast walkers irrespective of age and gender.
2. If point 1 is true, then did the animals who were wiped out during the evolution feel as bad I did when a 50+ auntie overtook me on the running track today?
3. Does my frenchie roommate know my name? B’cos she always refers to me as “excuse me!” wait do I know her name. :- |
4. Why the Matrix trilogy not called “Matrices”.
5. Why do the mosquitoes aim right for my ear, and just hover there? What are they trying to tell me? Big messages come in small messengers?
6. Why do people answer honestly on Facebook quizzes when they know the results aren’t exactly accurate or given by a psycho-therapist!!
7. Why am I one of those people? :O
8. Why haven’t I met anyone yet who doesn’t like the song “Pehla Nasha”. And not feel lukewarm about it but outright loathing. Is there a rule against disliking this song that I don’t know of?
9. If the police get to challan us why don’t we get to challan them?
10. Should I start a trend by writing “Honest” as “Onest”. That is how we spell it!
11. Should I start updating this blog regularly too?


If you know any of the answers, you know where to reach me!!
:D

Enough is Enough...

Enough Is Enough


Everytime I loved you, I regret.
Everytime I let you hurt me, I regret.
Everytime I shed a tear for you, I regret.
This lesson from life, I shall never forget.
Everytime I smelled your hair, I want to forget,
Every second I spent with you, I want to forget.
Every sentence you spoke to me, I remember, I want to forget,
Every wrong I did for you, I will correct,
Every bruised corner of me, my soul, I will resurrect,
The buried inside me, has heard so much, and not said, even a word,
But today is the day I decide, enough is enough.


Meghna
26th dec 08.

*It is new years and this is the closest thing to a resolution i have,... :)