Monday, March 21, 2011

Change of Plans

I have decided to buy the house before buying the car. 

The white dream!

About ten years ago I used to fantasize about the big red car. But everyone has a big red car now. And this one's the latest on my list of fancies. I'm guessing something better will come out by the time I am done buying the house, but if the succession was for tomorrow and day after, then my next weekend would be in this one! :D 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Fuchsiaa!


I got my first fuchsia wallet when I was in first year of college. It got stolen in third year, I think. I got my second fuchsia wallet a few months later, and I lost it in December last year. And now I have the thirrrd one! It's smaller than the last two, but it's FUCHSIA! :D

Bad self mode photo from the phone camera. But who cares! :D


Friday, March 11, 2011

16@160


It was 2007 when I first 'decided' to go to the Taj Mahal. Subhadip then made fun of me saying that I wanted to go there because it had renewed its status in the 7 Wonders. That trip didn't work out. Nor did any of the million others that I tried making between then and now.

So, my story remains the same as for all other trips. Weekend before last it was Priyam's office that killed my trip. Yes, I do not deny that the 'main to ja rahi hoon' thought did cross my mind. But Delhi as base is even harder to let that happen. I was thinking about how to get my way around it for the following weekend, and just then Varun called to ask if I was still interested in making the trip (he is one of the few people I tried asking that weekend). So we decided that we'd go on the 5th, keeping it tentative till Friday afternoon. No expectations, and still hope. Worked well for me. On Friday it was confirmed that the two of us were going, that we were taking his new car, that we will leave early, that we will definitely go to Fatehpur Sikri, and that we haven't found anyone else who is willing/suitable to join us. 

It was still dark when we left from my place at 6:00 am. Varun had been nicely deceived by Google Maps regarding the Yamuna Expressway - just like I almost had been too the previous evening. Google shows the complete route marked out on the app, not knowing that it is still not operational. The good thing about having done a few trips in the recent past is that now I always look for bloggers' experiences before heading out. Nothing beats the information that you get there. So I knew better than our driver about which route to take. :D

We missed the newly done-up Faridabad flyover and felt reeeaaally bad about it until we reached the toll collection point and figured that we won't obviously be paying money either. :P

I work for a firm that deals with a lot of urbanisation issues. I'd recently read about how in India development happens in such a way that the entire look of a street/area changes dramatically every few months. So much so that a person who visits after few years may not be able to identify things around at all. And that isn't necessarily a good thing. The same happened with me. I used to go to Faridabad every day in Nov-Dec 2009, but now the completion of that flyover has completely changed the entire space. Feels rather strange.

After about 45 minutes of being out, we faced extremely dense fog for a few kilometres. It was fun hearing Varun talk about Delhi's behaviour when there's fog or rain.

And then came the sun. I can't get enough of even mentioning how much I have started loving it. It is as if every part of my body comes alive when I encounter a happy sun. Very few things have the capacity to make me feel as good these days anyway.

About halfway down Varun felt like having a luxurious breakfast. Far removed from my hope of stopping at a dhaba; we googled and dialled The Taj in Agra to enquire about the breakfast buffet. It was fairly reasonable and was available till our expected time of arrival in the city. There! Breakfast decided. The hotel was earlier called The Taj View Hotel, now called The Gateway. And I wondered from which corner of the hotel could the Taj be viewed even till a few years ago.
The breakfast was decent. Just like in most other 5 stars that I have visited and ate at in the past few months. Maybe I expect too much out of these places, or maybe they really are as useless as I think them to be.

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The Gateway from its gate

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His breakfast happiness

We left from the hotel at around 10:15 am to wade through the city traffic and make our way to the Taj Mahal from the East Gate. At the parking I saw that we could ride a tonga from there. And excitement happened. :D I figured it was really going to be a luxury day trip and did not mind it at all.

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From our tonga!!


We spent about 1.5 hours inside. Varun's repeated statement about walking into a postcard was partially true for me. I hated seeing the number of people that I did there. For once I did not like the presence of so many colours around me. And my love for white got reinforced rather strongly. I mentioned that it should be mandatory to wear white to that complex, and Varun feared my dictatorial thoughts.

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Well, I really didn't know how to do justice to it!

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I found this substitute for taking off shoes rather funny!



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My first photo of the day :D

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His already nth photo of the day

My knee, which had been behaving well the past couple of weeks, gave way by 12:30 pm. I was scared I'd ruin the second leg of the outing for us. We drove out nonetheless, on the awesomeness that the highway was. I fell in love with Varun's Vento that behaved so bloody well throughout the day. I felt bad though for the back that got a hit thanks to an invisible tree. But overall, it was t-o-o---g-o-o-d!

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Vs

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Between Agra and Fatehpur Sikri @160 kmph

My mind completely refused the idea of a wheelchair at Sikri. And I think my knee figured that well because it started behaving itself thereafter. And to put it on record, Sikri is the best of all such places that I have seen so far in life. I loved every bit of it. It inspired pleasant thoughts. It made me relate to it at a level that I did not think I ever could have. And it made me wonder what it would be like if I had a palace like that to myself as well. :D

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Sikri

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At Sikri

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I can't figure the expression

From Sikri to Fatehpur was a little dry and rather hot. At Salim Chisti's I felt that I have no wishes that I would want to ask to be fulfilled. It was an overwhelming thought, however, I still managed to ask for the three that the place usually 'allows'.


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Fatehpur

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Salim Chisti's Dargah
---
There is still laughter in my head at the foolishness that we were with respect to guides through the day. But  it was all good since I had decided to take it easy. And the fact that it was Varun who was the diligent listener, not me, worked well.

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The Foolishness :P
---

We walked around, bought more chocolates, and were on our way out by 3:30 pm. The drive back was less of speed and more of conversations. And about the fact that neither of us liked each other's music. It was again a non-stop drive, the big dent being the traffic after Ballabgarh.

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Restoration on at Fatehpur - the re-done bits looked beautiful!

We were in Delhi by 8:00 pm. My call for wheat took us to Not Just Paranthas at GK 2. The place stank beyond belief. I still ate there because Varun told me it was a nice place. The food did turn out to be good, and I did not fall sick the next day.

Varun's carried over exhaustion from the previous day translated into madness by the end. But I was not complaining. I had had the most perfect 16 hours in the longest time! 

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A wall at Not Just Paranthas

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Varun and his socks at Not Just Paranthas

Friday, March 04, 2011

Away From The Women's Coach

She was beginning to hate the man because he had been in that seat since she had walked in. The seat she felt illegitimate ownership of. Simply because she hates standing through her journey. Just then he got up. Her day's first analysis didn't go wrong, she thought. She had expected him to get off at Chhatarpur. He got up at the next station. The discount is allowed. A minute or so after settling in, she noticed that the station had passed but the man was still there. And he remained until one station before hers. He made her morning by being so nice without an iota of expression of that favour.

And while he comfortably hung around, she noticed a guy sitting opposite her. Disheveled, unkempt, at least three days of not having shaved, exhausted, barely managing to keep his eyes open. But rather attractive, she thought. The Umbro bag by his feet, the Adidas shoes, a smart fleece, and a pair of jeans that she knew only looked good from a distance, added to the good looks. She did not realise she had been staring at him until his eyes suddenly popped open and looked straight into hers. She looked on for that extra second and then shied away, knowing he was still looking. After glancing through in both directions, conveniently skipping him, she looked back towards him a second time. His eyes closed again. Her now usual morning tiredness made both their body languages fairly similar. She watched on, admiring the perfect nose, the beard that she knew must feel soft, and the sleepy demeanour which looked like it was much deserved. The next thing she knew, he again caught her looking at him. It was funny this time. She thought of passing a faint smile, but could sense that he won't react. He seemed dazed. She looked away. She did not want it to repeat a third time, but noticed from the corner of her eye that he was now looking at her. She also watched him watch her get up, pull on her bags, and walk out. She guessed that his eyes closed immediately after. And perhaps she's the only one still enjoying the moment.

Or maybe he's still thinking how her shirt did not match with her sweater. And she's thinking, "damn, just this one day!".

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Small Joys

It is 10:28 pm. The agenda is to be in bed by 11:00 pm. I don't know what I want to write about. All I know is that the blog is in dire need of something happy. Or at least something that is not morose. 

I could write about how I recently noticed in a train that all women around me had abnormally large feet. I could also write about how I now figure that there are many technically under-25 but health-wise over 40 people around. Or about how I am mentally ageing at the same speed as my learning in this organisation is going. Or simply how papayas, not any people are my latest dependency in life. 

But happy. Happy! What is happiness, I wonder. 

Happiness is my slowly evolving silk collection.
Happiness is getting to Gurgaon every day in under an hour.
Happiness is finally being comfortable in formal clothes. 
Happiness is doing government relations 
Happiness is having ticked off ten out of my 25 things to do for the September year-end. And I might just manage to add two more to that list this month itself.
Happiness is having gone about a month without the knee brace. 
Happiness is having gone international with my photography.
Happiness is keyboard shortcuts.
Happiness is orange.

Happiness is being at home with family. 

Happiness is inside.

Happiness would also have been these fonts the way I like them and not the way Google likes them.