Roller coaster of emotions

Drowned in silence

The moment shrieks

As I vacillate…

Between exuberance & despair

Between thoughts & action

Between certain & tentative

Between inertia & initiative

Between criticism & caring

Between ignorance & awakening

Between bondage & freedom

Between love & hate

Between us & me

Between you & my destiny

Swing it!!!

Pavan sent me this link of a hilarious Wedding entrance dance sequence today, which had me completely in splits!! Wish we could replicate this at our wedding too...though I guess thats just wishful thinking because South Indian Weddings are notoriously boring!!! But yeah do check out this fabulously funny video....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0

Another day, another say; another sign, another whine!

Why must everything in my life have a limp denouement, I wonder? Why must a day start off with me having no fever and feeling upbeat? And then why must it end with the fever coming back to me at bedtime, knocking my head saying, ‘What’s up buddy!’ and crawling under my skin?

This happened to me the day before. Now I have been feeling under the weather since Sunday, when the viral had first marked me as an easy target to spread its family lineage. Was slowly recovering (the fever had been conquered, only the cold was left to be won over) when suddenly, instead of retreating peacefully, the vanquished hero decided to come back & attack me again on Tuesday, just as I had put off my guard. Talk about back-stabbing. All this resulted into me being rushed off to the family doctor again yesterday, who opined smilingly (encouragingly in his opinion; sarcastic in mine!), that if the fever lasted for one more night then it may well be a case of typhoid or malaria. He again went on smilingly, about the necessity of me getting admitted to a hospital in such a scenario. The smiling assassin’s pronouncements were enough to scare the shit out of me & put me in a vile mood the entire day. The moot point is I hate taking medicines. They make me sick (pun intended). Most people mistake my abstinence from pills for my false bravado, but they don’t know. My throat burns when I swallow a pill and my head throbs like a torn drum. My liver clams up and I hear turkey noises behind my left ear. I feel nauseous and then I start shivering. But I must repeat the vile capsule shoving noon and night as well. And to top it all. Hospital. Saline. My mom kept saying ‘It’ll make me better.’ Yeah. Sure. Death cures sickness.

So here I was cursing myself the whole day, with both anger & pity directed towards myself. I hoped against hope that the fever would not come back in the night, while I lolled about in antibiotic haze. I kept snapping at people for no grounded reason. I snapped at Papa when he asked me for the TV remote (‘you want to watch the TV, when your daughter is ill?’). I snapped at Mom because the soup she had prepared was seemingly really foul-tasting (it is actually the medicines leaving a bitter after-taste in my mouth). To top it all, I had an argument with my fiancé. Bored to the core & frustrated after having not spoken to him for the last 3 days because of his work, shot off a terse one-liner SMS to him, which had him, scrambling to call me within the next 5 mins. He didn’t know what exactly we were arguing about, so he couldn’t put up a counter-argument fitting enough for my formidable erudite reasoning, which irritated me further. But I guess my fiancé’s placating skills are far much better than my resisting ones. Finally after 2 hrs of cajoling in the dead of the night, he managed to find out the crux of the matter & calm me down enough to make me go to bed with a smile.

Talk about anti-climax. And when I had finally resigned myself to being ill for a long time, today morning the fever has completely disappeared, though leaving me weak enough to miss office for one-more day. So time for something which I think I do well, but has disastrous implications for everybody else: self-introspection!! I made myself some tea and thought about why I behaved so cantankerously – that is, not counting the distinct element of fun in being dour. And reached the wondrous conclusion that I simply make a very bad patient.

(Ahem, yesterday night’s bad mood was beneficial to me after all. Today my fiancé called me up early in the morning (which he never does!) to ‘gauze the waters’ so as to speak & again twice during the day. Wow, talk about getting lucky!! After ascertaining safely that I was back to my bubbly self, the guy admitted that he is really scared thinking ke ek chote-se viral se mera ye haal hai, what would be the extent of my tantrums if I really fall ill! Guess darling, you have to just find out for yourself :P)

Quintessentially Mumbaiyya!

Yeh Delhi hai mere yaar, bas ishq muhabbat pyaar...So went the gtalk status msgs of almost all of Delhi friends a few days before. My response was "Haa haa, bas yehi kaam kar sakte ho, aur waise bhi koi kaam hota hai nahi tumse" & my friend retorted "thats the essentially practical Mumbaikar speaking, who can never understand the finer nuances of romance. Dilli Dilwaalonki aur tumhaari nagari Paisewaalonki". Ahem. The comparison of Mumbai with Delhi is the most exciting subject for the people who are been to both the cities Its a gr8 debate and why not!!! India is all about its two capitals... you have the political capital of the nation at one hand while we have economic capital of the nation at the other hand. And both set of people claim to be the best!

I have my own experiences. People from Delhi think that they are more sophisticated than the Mumbai folks “Hey it’s a matter of semantics”, as my friend HP puts it. “Basically a difference between a 'Delh-ite'& a 'Mumbai-kar'. That sums it all. Also Mumbai has locals while Delhi has Metro. I will say these transportation modes of the cities actually reveals the character of the people.” Ahem.

But the most colourful difference is found in the language. A true Delhiite's soul is often shaken to the core when he hears the mince-meated version of the national language we Mumbaikar's pass around as our own (though must confess, am equally not too much enamoured with the Haryanvi, Punju & Bhojpuri influences in Delhi's Hindi- what with the Dekh Liyo, Kar liyo floating in almost every sentence uttered by them. Also every time I visit the capital am tickled pink with the wierd & suggestive Bhojpuri songs played by the cab waalas) But all thing said & done, Mumbaiyya Hindi is enough to get the goats of the Delhiites. The other day, a bunch of us were talking about Mumbai & its quirks. And the Delhiites were reminiscing about their first brush with the quintessentially Mumbai Hinmarlish (Hindi+Marathi+English), which left us all shaking with laughter.

MM was telling us about his first brush with the friendliest person in the city- the chattering, gabbering Taxi-waala. Yup we all have had various jovial, exasperating experiences with them, havent we?? Now this guy apparentely took it upon himself to show this guy just how much he did not know about this city and its familiar, well-known black and yellow taxis. 'Khaali Peeli overtake nahi karne kaa' was the advice given by this warm-hearted samaritan going under the guise of a taxi-driver. MM took it literally and told us that for the initial 3 mths he never ever tried to overtake a taxi, even if it was extremely slow-moving, as he logically interpreted 'kaali' - black & 'peeli-yellow to refer to our famed taxi. But it took him ages to figure that one out, since in Mumbaiyya Hindi, khaali-peeli, said with a little more spit and less polish, is a way of saying that something is unnecessary. MM got so peeved of being made a fool of, that to this day he deliberately tries to overtakes every taxi speeding in front of him....

Then there was DP. One evening, she took a rick from Andheri station. The auto fellow, being friendly or bored because he didn’t have a music deck, started making small talk with her. He sympathetically looked at her and asked ‘Train mein gardi thi?’ My friend didn’t seem to understand, so she mumbled something that the rick guy didn’t want repeated. So that was that. The next day, her bai comes in late and launches into a huge narration, the moot point of which is, ‘Bahut gardi thi.’ My friend reaches office and hears two colleagues commenting on the horrid route to work. ‘Itni gardi mein kaise koi time pe pahunchega.’ She was now left wondering what ‘gardi’ is, because she hasn’t heard that word before – ever. And finally drew her own conclusion out of it.

One day in context with something her friends had to say, our DP goes & says 'gardi' mein patte jhadte hain. Everybody is perplexed. What could ‘gardi’ possibly mean here?DP explained “I’d heard of garmi (hot climate) and I’d heard of sardi (cold climate). I thought an intermediary season would be ‘gardi’. So poor DP's interpretation of gardi was yup, Autumn!!!

By this time everybody of us were almost ROFL-Rolling on floor laughing.

It was then VPs turn- the most unusual Delhite, because he genuinely loves ‘Aamchi Mumbai’.He says the proudest day of his life was when he surprised himself by asking the taxiwallah, 'tereko wahan jaane ka hai ki nahi?' Nowadays he goes & proudly talks to the local shopkeeper ishtiyal se 'ke mujhe chuna nahin lagane ka'; which strangely makes him fee no longer an alien in a strange city. But he still is perplexed why the North Indians in the city take umbrage over being called “Bhaiyya”

Indeed the quirkiness of the city gets to everyone, especially if are a ‘sophisticated Delhite’. But as a Mumbaikar will put it “zyada load nahi leneka, shaanti se yahape rehneka”

An Ode to Love

Was listening to this beautiful Punjabi song today. And remembered discussing it with my friend K in a taxi the other day. I have always loved this song (it holds some special memories for me); but then K also drew my attention to another facet of this song, its poignant lyrics. "Everybody loves me for my strengths, but besides you, there is nobody who will accept me with my demons" The purest form of love- Acceptance. A simple thing to say, but the hardest thing to do.

Reminds me of that ancient Persian ode to love:

Even after all this time

The sun never says to the earth, "You owe me."

Look what happens with a Love like that!

—It lights the whole Sky. (Hafiz)

Tere bin sanu soniya,

Koi hor naiya labhna

Jo dave ruh nu sakun

Chukke jo nakhra mera

Apart from you, my love

There is nobody else

Who gives peace to my soul

And bears my arrogance

Ve main sare ghumm ke vekhia

Amrika, Roos, Malaysia

Na kittey vi koi fark si,

Har kise di koi shart si

Koi mangda mera si shama

Koi hunda surat te fida

Koi mangda meri si wafa

Na koi mangda merian bala

Tere bin hor na kise, mangni merian bala

Tere bin hor na kise, karni dhup vich chhan

I have gone & seen it all

America, Russia, Malaysia

there wasn't any difference

as everybody had a condition

Some asked for my time;

Some were fascinated with my face

Some demanded my fidelity

But none who wanted my demons

You are the only one who accepts me with my demons

You are the only one who shades me from the sun

Milya si aaj menu tera ik patra

Likhya si jiste tu sher varey shah da

Parke si osnu hanju ek dulliya

Aankha vich band si, seh raaz ajj khulya

Ki tere bin eh mere hanju kise hor naiyo chumna

Ki tere bin eh mere hanju mitti wich rulhna.

I found today a note of yours

On which you had scribbled a *Varis Shah couplet

Upon reading which a teardrop fell from my eye

And a mystery locked in these eyes was unraveled

That nobody besides you will ever kiss these tears of mine

And if not for you these tears of mine will wither in the dust

Tere bin sanu soniya

Koi hor naiyo labhna ,

Jo dave ruh nu sakun

Chukke jo nakhra mera

(*Varis Shah- 18^th century Punjabi Sufi poet, best known for the seminal ‘Heer Raanjha’)

Tail of the Underdog

Was listening to Jen Foster today. Awesome words which struck a chord in my heart.

When everyone's above you, there's nowhere you can go
When nobody calls you, 'cause it's all in who you know
When the self-righteous say they're for you, telling you to win this fight
Nobody understands you, no they don't know what it's like

Coz we are the underdogs.

Could relate to it completely. As I am writing this article, am watching the IPL final Clash between the Deccan Chargers & Royal Challengers Bangalore (Ahem, am forced to support Bangalore this year, what with three huge Bangalore fans in the family- My Dad, Mom & Pavan). To think of it, Twenty20 cricket has always belonged to the underdogs, ain't it? Who would have imagined a final clash between Deccan & Banglore this season, the No. 8 & 7 teams of last season? Who can forget India's against-all-odds classic victory at the Twenty20 world championship. Another classic example is the last year championship winners, Rajastan Royals...they won when the chips were down & lost when when they WERE the hype...touché anyone?????

All of which made me think, we all love underdogs, don't we? How is it we so often relate with the one in the midst of the struggle, the one that won't surrender, the one who battles against the odds and through perseverance triumphs in victory. It is this person that makes us feel alive, that brings out our character that we've buried inside. Perhaps the reason why we love to hear about stories like David and Goliath. Perhaps the reason why movies like 'Lagaan', 'Chak-De India', 'Rocky Balboa' & 'Pursuit of Happyness' hit a home-run with many of us. The tail of the underdog wags proudly everywhere we go.

You see, there is a part of us, inside us all, one that perhaps feels trapped, controlled, and prevented from realizing our dreams. We all wanna do something hatke, but are trapped by our own insecurities which prevents us from doing precisely that. Can be anything- fear of failure, fear of loss of face, fear of rejection etc etc etc. And when we see another conquer these demons, champion over adversity or seize the day, we are one with them and in their glory, we feel as if nothing is impossible. We all try to live to live our lives through the victory of the underdogs.

But one thing really really amazes me. Our preference for the underdog is a mile long but an inch deep. When push comes to the shove, how many of us actually have the guts to rely on the underdogs? Take the example of you wanting to get a thing done by somebody, say something as mundane as painting a house. And there are only two people who can do it. So would you prefer an experienced guy in that field or a talented novice??? Therein lies the answer. So while we root for the underdog, we only root until it does not affect our self-interest. The hypocrisy of humans at play here again.

Whatever it is, the underdog theory rules. So the next time, you find yourself siding with the underdog, understand it is as much about you, as it is about them.

(P.S Going by this Underdog theory, one of the two next year IPL Finalists would be Mumbai Indians. Yipeee!!!! And therein lies my true loyalty....and the real purpose of writing this article. LOL!! )

It's Me & Masaru Anna :)

Writing after a long time. Effort-minimalism at its best again. Thanks for all the mails asking me about my absense from the blogging world. You finally awoke the Kumbhakaran from his sleep!

A slow-mo flashback. My Mom asking me as soon as I came home from school 'What do u want, beta?' I have never figured it out till date why she bothered asking me everytime, 'coz my answer would always be the ubiquitous 'Masaru Anna' . When I was a kid, like all other regular kids I always made a huge fuss about what I eat. I am sure my mom would not have been any different from any other mom, trying to make me eat food in all different ways by either sunaoing a kahaani or naming each small morsel after an animal and what not…But the only thing I never made a fuss about while eating would be my beloved Masaru Anna (Curd-rice in Kannada). Talk about first crush! It was like Heer-Ranjha, Romeo-Juliet, Masaru-Vaidehi! All in the same league :)

Kids my age would live in the world of choclates, ice-creams, candies et all...And i lived perpetually in the land of curd. Masaru-Anna, Uppit- Masaru, Idli-Masaru, Vada-Masaru, Poha-Masaru...I used to eat such yucky combinations with curd that even today people are disgusted by it! My world started nd ended with curd. My mom would have had a new ‘pareshaani’ I guess, that all I would eat was curd and she didn’t get to cook anything else for me.

But that was before I discovered a new love- Cheese and my lust-filled affair with curd ended!

Today I share a very platonic relationship with my first love. Yet still the remnants of the desire simmer somewhere in my blood! Like in Singapore recently, the first thing I asked a friend residing there for some time now, was the location of a good South-Indian restaurant serving Masaru-Anna. Like I was in Ahmedabad a couple of years back, for 3 months on work (now Ahmedabad is a food-lovers paradise, a 'gastronomical orgy' as a friend describes it!!) and inspite being in 7th heavan, was sorely missing my comfort food. Finally my 4 colleagues (all gujjus) tired of my pinched face at dinner-time, set about one day in search of my beloved. After a lot nd lot of search finally located a Mallu restaurant (remember the T20 world cup-Shreesanth joke 'wherever u go, u find a mallu' ) and had curd-rice. Couldnt stop beaming for four days afterwards :)

Now u must be wondering why the Curd Rice love story eh? Well this story works pretty much like a normal routine friendship story that many of us would have experienced. There is always some pal you care deeply about.. .You spend a lot of time together, gel well and talk about the future… her/his spouse and kids, ur husband and kids…the what ifs reunion 25 yrs later, the banal existence in the corporate world, what u’d want out of life….in short you feel like u’ve known this person for years. But soon, u just get up one day and realise you like Cheese more. The Curd takes a back seat and Cheese takes over, you feel its normal, that the curd was just a phase, and it didn’t really mean much perhaps… it did actually mean something maybe but you don’t give too much of thought to it, simply because you don’t find the need to.

Sometimes aise bhi hota hai, someday when you get mature enough and can think for urself, maybe you’ll reflect back to the glorious days and think of Curd, the way you did once. We all have been fixated with curd, and we now are very pally with cheese. Life changes, friends change. The important thing is, that it’d be real sad if you stopped eating Curd altogether. It doesn’t taste that bad after all.

Dinner time...And I am surely having Masaru Anna today afterall :)

Dedicated to all my friends who I am not in touch with...Gals, wherever u are, remember u nd miss u. Inspired by one of my myriad conversations with PH.

Raag-matazz :I

Statutory warning: Only for classical music lovers!:-)

The inspiration behind this blog-post is the chat I had with my friend Prasad yesterday night regarding classical-based Hindi film songs. Our conversation took the form of an idea for the blog-post when while discussing some of the most beautiful Yaman Kalyan compositions in Hindi cinema (co-incidentally one of my most favourite raagas), Prasad asked me to share my compiled list of most popular Raagas used in flicks (the list had been compiled for my own personal use over a no. of yrs, not comprehensive though!). I know many of you would not be interested in the topic; but for those who are, would be grateful if you could add on/ point out any factual errors in this list compiled.

Contrary to the common belief that modern music is devoid of classical elements, the Mozart of Madras, A R Rehman can actually be counted as one of the best proponents of classical music in modern times, if not ever, as almost all of his masterly compositions have classical Raag strains in them (& tat too a variety of Raags). Take a look:

 

AR Rehman- Raaga to Riches collection

 Yeh Haseen Vadiyaan- Roja- Raag Kaanada

Roja Jaaneman- Roja- Raag Kaafi

Dil hai chotasa -Roja - Raag Gaud Sarang

Bombay-Theme- Raag Desh

Tu hi re- Bombay-Raag Khamaj

Kehna Hi Kya- Bombay- Raag Bhairav

Yaaron Sun lo Jaraa- Rangeela- Raag Todi (only ARR can do this; a tapori item song based on a raag, and that too one of the mildest raag!)

Hai rama yeh kya hua – Rangeela- Raag Puriya Dhanashree

Kehtaa hai mera ye dil piya- Jeans- Raag Bhimpalaas

Rut aa gayi re -1942 Earth- Raag Puriya Dhanashree

Ye Rishta Kya Kehlata hai- Meenaxi- Raag Vrindavani Sarang

Piya haji ali -Fiza- Raag Maand

Kariye naa –Taal- Raag Yaman-Kalyan

Taal se taal mila –Taal- Raag Bhairavi

Chaiyya Chaiyya- Dil Se- Raag Hamsadhwani (It is! I swear!)

Jiya jale - Dil Se-  Raag Bhairavi

Ae Ajnabi, Tu bhi Kabhi- Dil Se- Raag Bhimpalaas

Ghanan ghanana - Lagaan- Raag Megh Malhar

Radha kaise na jale –Lagaan- Raag Bhimpalaas

Dheeme dheeme gaun- Zubeidaa- Raag Jogiya

Chhodo mori baiyaan – Zubeidaa- Raag Patdeep

Boondon se baatein -Thakshak – Raag Kirwani

Saathiya (Title Song)- Raag Kaanada

Chupke Se- Saathiya- Raag Marwa

Ye jo des hai tera, swades hai tera – Swades- Raag Desh

Yeh taara, woh taara- Swades- Raag Kalawati

Aahista Aahista- Swades- Raag Charukesi

Barso Re Megha- Guru- Raag Bahaar

Tere bina - Guru- Raag Pahadi

Aye Hairathe Ashiqui -Guru- Raag Yaman Kalyan (What a song! Beautiful!)

Khwaja Mere Khwaja- Jodhaa Akbar- Raag Alaiya Bilawal & Kalingda

Man Mohana- Jodhaa Akbar-  Raag Bhairavi

Jashne-e-bahaara- Jodhaa Akbar- Raag Dhrupad

Bhor Bhaye- Delhi 6- Thumri in Raag Gurjari Todi

 

May he continue to regale us with such beautiful and soulful songs for years to come. Amen!

Of Paradoxes and Oxymorons

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on 

No guys, I am NOT trying to take any grammar or poetry lessons here. Just a rhetoric on the paradoxes of life. To be more specific, a part of my endeavour to put forth my weird thoughts on Life. (I am really sorry, if u guys think that kya philosophical bakwaas hai!)

I was always fascinated with paradoxes and oxymorons...words and phrases that seemingly contradict themselves. And nothing like these lines from John Keats (from his immortal “Ode on a Grecian Urn”), to depict paradoxes. [Fact:  The word "oxymoron" is itself an oxymoron, deriving it's meaning from the Greek words "oxy," meaning "sharp," and "moros," meaning "dull." (Thanks Wikipedia.)] Etymology aside, I am fascinated by the way that two diametrically opposed concepts can collide to create something counterintuitive and, oftentimes, powerful.

I think my fascination primarily stems from my own paradoxical personality:  

Organised Chaos: Often I have a haphazard pile of clothes on the floor in my colour-coded wardrobe unit. Managed to have good successes on the academic & professional front, but still consistently mix up my right and my left. Always smiling, idiotic, happy go lucky me; yet told that ‘my thoughts run as deep as an ocean’ [Ahem, Thanks MG for that poetic description; girl, amazing display of your artistic ideas!!]. And the worst of the lot is the fact that though I am publicly very savvy, when it comes to expressing my emotions I clam up! Everything gets bottled within me. I could go on and on, but in each example, the idea is the same:  that I am who I am - a colorful, eccentric, unexpected ME - and I would not be me if these contradictions didn't exist side by side.

It is with that collision of contradictory thoughts and feelings and colors and ideas that I write now. I have often thought about the concept ‘Life’. Rather have always pondered over the ‘Meaning’ of Life the last couple of years. And thought that the paradox that explains life best is bittersweet. We are sometimes bitter that things didn't work out as we had hoped in the past, but isn’t it sweet that we are constantly given the opportunities to do something which we love so much (though it’s left to us whether we convert these opportunities into realities!). Bitter is the feeling of sadness and nostalgia that we have of days gone by that will never return, but sweet is the hope we have that exciting new possibilities may be just around the bend.  As I go through the ups and downs of life, no other word could possibly portray the combination of thoughts and feelings, the way that bittersweet does.

I always thought that it's the oxymorons & the paradoxes that make life life. They give it a meaning. They make it art. They tell the story. They keep it interesting. The wonderful disasters, the organized chaos, yes, even the bittersweet moments... Who would want to live a bland,uninteresting life, right?

Until I came across the ultimate paradox of life (No, I am not going to explain it, just leaving it for you to mull over it!).If you understand this paradox, it sets you FREE, because its akin to understanding that small four-letter word which confuses the hell out of all of us- LIFE!

“The meaning of life is that Life is Meaningless.

And it’s meaningless, that Life is Meaningless.”

Wanted....

 Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Wanted...

...Someone who is extremely smart and brave

...Someone who is courageous and self-sacrificing, especially in the face of dire adversity

...Someone who can keep in pace with pace

...The ability to read me is welcome, but moreso the ability to read a map is an absolute necessity.

...Having a license, but not to kill

And more importantly, someone who can distinguish between what is right nd what is not (literally!)

No guys, not advertising for my 'someone special', I actually need someone to teach me how to drive a car...

Ahem , Can I see any brave volunteers here???? :)

P.S. Read on a car bumper: "I'm NOT speeding, I'm qualifying!"

A modern Love story: Heer-Ranjha

Off -late  my friends & fellow bloggers are churning up some good short stories. So inspired by them, i came up something with my own. It started out as a modern love story, but true to my form, it turned out to be something very different. Somehow I am not able to find a suitable title, so suggestions are invited for the same.

A guy, we’ll call him “Ranjha”, became obsessed with a girl named “Heer”, whom he met in a conference. Heer not knowing his obsession, gave Ranjha her business card.

He left her three voicemails:

Message 1:

Hey Heer, it’s Ranjha.

Sorry I had to rush when we met the other day. In any event, I thought I had better leave you a more detailed message and explain why I approached you. I am single. I have no trouble meeting women; I mean, women approach me six or seven times a day. But I’m extremely particular about what I like. You’re an extremely elegant woman. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and your friends were very jealous; even if they say they weren’t, they were envious of the fact that I approached you, and I was very taken by you. Elegant women are very rare. I’m extremely particular about what I like. So I’m giving you an opportunity here. I don’t know if you picked up the message on the weekend but I’m working on a client so I’ll be doing that all weekend…

This looks like land line, and if it is, you may not get the message till Monday. But when you do, call me and we’ll get together for coffee or drinks, and let the romance begin. You looked very taken aback by my approach, and I hope that wasn’t timidness, I hope it was just shock at being approached so directly. Because I don’t really like timid women, because I’m a very direct, very passionate, very assertive man, and I want a woman who is very independent and strong. So… we’ll talk about that, but I just wanted to formally introduce myself. I leave the ball in your court. You call me as soon as you have the courage to. Okay, Heer? Talk to you soon, bye.

Message 2:

Hi there, Heer it’s Ranjha calling again, the guy u met the other day at ……

I left you a message several days ago; u didn't respond back. Now here’s the way I work. I don’t like leaving second messages but I like you, you’re a very elegant woman, you’re very attractive, but, you know, I don’t play that game. I know your friends tell you not to return calls, you’re playing games like you see in stupid TV shows. So here’s how it’s gonna work it is now 7.30 pm on Wednesday. Now I’ll assume, I’ll assume that you’ve already left work, because, you know, some people leave work early, so I’ll grant you that. But if I don’t receive a phone call back from you by 9 o’clock Thursday night I’m no longer interested and I’m going to erase your number. I don’t play games like that. I’m completely single, I’m very intelligent, I make great money. Believe it or not, I’m a complete catch. I’ve only been single four months; I had a long distance relationship for about a year, it’s very tough to maintain it like that; there’s nothing wrong with me. As a matter of fact I’m one of the few men in the city that has nothing wrong with him. So I’m giving you the nine o’clock deadline. If I don’t hear from you by then, you lose my number — I’m erasing your number right now, so you won’t be hearing back from me.

So that’s it: nine o’clock tomorrow, or you can just completely forget it.

Message 3:

Hi Heer, Ranjha here. Had erased your number. But somehow managed to get my eyes on your business card, so calling you back. I dunno why you didn’t call me back. I first thought you are playing games with me. Hey, its your loss. But you are too elegant a lady and I felt I should prevent you from incurring this loss.

Now I understand if you’ve got other issues, maybe you’re not playing games, I don’t know… maybe you were abused by somebody?… maybe you’re just a person who’s extremely frightened or has an anxiety disorder, maybe you’re on some medication for that…I don’t know, there could be another issue that I’m not aware of. But nobody  hands  me a business card and then doesn’t return calls. It’s extremely passive-aggressive. You should actually look that up, passive-aggressive personality disorder. You let me know, if you’ve got issues, psychological issues, if you’re on any sort of medication for anxiety or depression, I’m not interested. But if you’re psychologically normal, and you haven’t called me because there’s been some horrible thing that’s happened in your life that’s prevented you from returning my calls, that’s fine. But otherwise? Don’t call me. Okay, bye.

Heer never returned Ranjha's messages. And they lived happily, separately, ever after. THE END.