On just about everything.

I cannot begin to tell you, how many blogs I have started writing and left it half way because I could not finish it.I blamed just about everything for my absence from writing, but fret not, I am baaaack! My absence from the blogging world has been because I have had so much fun this year. And heck, it's just May. I can't wait for the rest of the year, if it half as fun as these five months, I am not going to complain. Bring it on, I say.

I wanted to name the post,  "On just about everything" because that's just how life is, just about everything. I was going through my old blogs and I kinda felt a little embarrassed to be honest, all I ever did was complain, blame and whine (which, by the way, is very me. I am the biggest whiner, I ever know.)So, this blog post, I wanted to switch it up a little, change the tone of the blog, if you may say so. I may get all preachy and annoyingly happy, but I believe it will be a much needed change.

I guess, I must write a blog for Mothers Days every year now, you know? I think every mother out there deserves to know how much they mean to their children and what a big role they play in who they become when they grow older. I don't mean to be all sad here, but yeah, its true when I keep saying, I miss my mother. It may be a good 15 years since she has passed, but you never get past all the sadness and the emptiness. Saying that, I aspire to be like my mother, make her proud every single day, be an awesome cook like her and just be a beautiful person over all. To all you mothers out there, we will never know how you do what you do, but we are glad we know when we want to know what perfection is, we just have to take a look at you.

The last two years have been bittersweet and just the way I like it. Too much of something is never good, right? So a little bit of fall here and there, is a good thing. It puts things into perspective and keeps your head in the game. As much as I have complained over the past few years, I have had the best time too. I made the best of friends, learnt how difficult it is to be humble,big role destiny plays, allowing life to unfold, not to rush, enjoying the littlest things in life - no matter how trivial they may seem, a bus ride, reading a book, playing with your pet, catching up with an old friend, working against deadline, staying up all night just to study, or even just watching your favorite tv show when you know you have an exam the next day. It is all part of the journey, I understand that now. It may have taken me years to figure that out, but I get it. Every little chip, or every little mismatched piece of the puzzle all fits in...eventually.

The one thing that kept me sane apart from my family and my friends, of course  food. My favorite F-words, if you may say so. Bad Joke. Sigh. I cannot help myself, I just have to say stuff like this, I guess. And,  a big shout out to all the people who have bought my goodies, supported me, encouraged me and keep motivating me.I love all of you for being so supportive and having faith in what I do is huge. I hopefully will be blogging about food soon, little tips here and there, recipes that I try over the coming weeks. Really excited. Summer IS fun.

I am officially saying goodbye to this phase of my life. Nothing lasts forever. My mantra is going to be : Embrace the change. I am obsessed with Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, I may even quote lines from his book if you wake me up in the middle of the night and this particular quote I think sums up what I have on my mind, “Sooner or later, fate puts us together with all the people, one by one, who show us what we could, and shouldn’t, let ourselves become. Sooner or later we meet the drunkard, the waster, the betrayer, the ruthless mind, and the hate-filled heart. But fate loads the dice, of course, because we usually find ourselves loving or pitying almost all of those people. And it’s impossible to despise someone you honestly pity, and to shun someone you truly love. ” 


I am signing off for now, but I promise I will be back with a bad-ass blog! 

Are you done with your good karma? If you don’t mind, can I have some of that?

Concept of karma is vague to me. Of course, I say stuff like, “Karma is a bitch”, “Karma is going to come, bite your ass” that kinda stuff, but I never believed in it. Technically, it is a very sound concept—you reap what you sow—that‘s just how it is.

Recently, I’ve been watching a lot of Dharma & Greg (a sitcom, where this uptight lawyer meets this whacky chick and they marry  the first day they meet, and begin their life together- you know, skipping the dating part). So, Dharma is raised a Hindu and as you know from the name, Dharma being truthful and all. She preaches truth, talks about how the universe decides everything, rebirth, and soul mates and of course, karma. It got me thinking, because this is what we are taught by our families, in schools and from our grandparents, but it makes more sense when somebody else keeps talking about it, all the time. I do not know if this is my opinion or if it is general opinion: we tend to believe in something more when somebody else says it. Karma makes more sense now than ever before.

Karma is on my mind, not the kind of thought  I want on my mind but it is stuck like a bad song, which you keep singing all the time because you can’t get it off your mind. I do not know if it is a good or a bad thing, but this I call, not peer but unhealthy sitcom obsession pressure. I cannot come up with a better excuse than this for my new level of crazy. Then another crazy thought came to my mind, does karma act like a shield to all the bad stuff that  happen to us? Are we safe, if we just followed the rules and just did good things? The answer to that: I have no friggin’ idea.

I am going through what you call—a very rough patch. The old me would have gone cussing the world for my misfortunes, the people responsible for my unhappiness or heck, I would have dived into a packet of chips or something totally-unhealthy-but-you-want-to-eat-right-away-because-you-have-to type food.  Nevertheless, the new me (or who I think the new me) is going to do good, be good. I mean, what gives? If anything, I get to do good things in life.

Who knows, I might just end up being one of those people who preaches about appreciate-the- good- in –people- no- matter- what- harm –they- do-to-you.. The next time, I lecture you about how horrible it is to litter or hurt an animal or even waste food, I am just buying you good karma and I am earning some in return. Trust me, you will wonder why you never did any good in life when you had the chance 'cause if you are going through a rough patch, all you will ever want is something good  happening in your life.

And hopefully, if I get reincarnated, I like to be born as Bow Bow, that is, if this entire karma thing is still a fancy thought in my mind a few months from now.  Until then, do any of you want share your good karma with me or if you are done, can I have some?

Move over, the yapper is here!

“But my one mighty (travel) talent is that I can make friends with anybody. I can make friends with the dead.....If there isn’t anyone else around to talk to, I could probably make friends with a four-foot-tall pile of Sheetrock”- Elizabeth Gilbert

“The Leo woman is the embodiment of honor loyalty, faithfulness, and trust when at her best; however, she must to take care about her tendency to develop an exaggerated sense of self-importance.”

I was reading Linda Goodman’s article on sun signs, and I kept going, “wait-a-minute, you got to be kidding me, that is soooo me!” I am a true blue Leo; I like drama, I am over-the-top, I am not a follower (If I am not leading; I would never be a part of it, being a follower is not my thing), I am lazy, I am sloppy, I like fancy things from life, I am loud, I am very patient, I am proud (and I am not ashamed of it), I am intimidating (men are scared of me. True Story), I am a very loyal friend, I can entertain people- I can make, “my dog pooped on the road” story very interesting and most importantly, I can make friends with anybody- I can talk to anybody, strike a conversation and make buddies for life.

Lot of my ability to make friends has something to do with me- talking, incessantly. I talk so much that I often worry about how much I can actually talk and not say. I sometimes think, most of my friends just listen to me, just to keep my ego going. I am that bad. But, the point is not how I talk a lot, the point is- what I end up doing with all this talking. Thanks to my non-stop nonsense- my new friends include, auto drivers (they see me so regularly, they do not even ask me where I want to get dropped off anymore; I figured, if you can’t beat them, join them, right?), traffic cops, bus conductors, middle-aged women who travel with me in share autos, vegetable vendors, and the lady who checks my bags (for bombs and explosives, mind you) at the library is becoming a very good friend. My best friends and my very close friends today are also people who I happened to meet, randomly. Like on a boring day at school, or over a television show we happened to enjoy, over Sudoku, or on a big queue to pay some fees, or over Shantaram and over food, of course.

Saying that, I was an introvert as a child, for some reason, people find that very shocking. Who I am today, and who I was when I was young, are two very completely different people. I was a very, very quiet person- teachers have gone years without hearing a peep out of me in class, I was always called the– Oh, that tall, quiet girl who is always well-behaved; she is always alone, she can mingle with the other students, but otherwise, she is okay ( Little did they know what I was like, at home). My dad had the hardest time figuring out how I could be two completely different people. All this talking, cooking, writing and making friends with random but wonderful people came to be- much, much later in life. Like a divine intervention of sorts (Boy, am I glad it happened!). However, I would have loved for it to have happened sooner, but I am not complaining. I am just glad that, that side to my personality is here, and it is here to stay.

If you are like me, you will know when you have so many things on your mind—it is just so hard not to talk. In this process of talking about every thought that runs on my mind, I completely lose track of the whole world around me- I am oblivious to where I am- place, people I’m with and what they have to say. It takes a lot for another person to just shut me up and make me listen to what they have to say. I am teased about it an awful lot, too. After a whole afternoon of talking, one day, I decided to shut up the whole of next day and allow (yes, allow) others to talk- and guess what? The whole place was so silent- that I could hear people chew their food during lunch, there was no shortage of awkward conversations, like, “did you say something?” “No.” “Oh, I thought I heard something” My friends thought there was something terrible had happened to me. I have such reputation now.

Other day, after a lot of talking, my friend asked me, “are you high on something?” and I actually said, “I am high on tea weed” and ever since, she has been asking me, if I am high on “tea weed” (For all those who are puzzled, I just had a cup of tea, and I was happy, that is all) I knew the minute I said it out loud, it  just did not sound right. I actually said, tea weed.

Honestly, all of this got me a little worried. I mean, I can only imagine another person, just like me, who keeps rambling non-stop, and how sick I will get when I  hear another person  who talks almost as much as me. Even worse, what if I meet my match, in my life partner. Imagine: both of us doing the talking, and a whole lot of nothing being said- that will just be the opposite of wedded bliss.  I believe in the whole, opposites attracting thing; two people being similar somehow just does not seem right. I sometimes think, I want a relationship for all the wrong reasons- not for the love, but for somebody who will listen to me rant all day, because he is legally bound to me and as my life partner- it comes under “making the relationship work” and, they do not call it “life partner” for nothing. Despite, the talking that I will be doing in a relationship- I really will give the man some time to talk; he just has to use it wisely, wow me, and not talk cars, other women. When I mention this theory to my girlfriends- they always say, Nooo. I can't believe you actually wish for that.

But hey, it is not me, it is the sun sign, did you not read the part about Leos "developing an exaggerated sense of self-importance?"

Women, generally, are known to talk a lot, but I take it up notch. That's all.

To sum it up: Normal woman’s non- stop talking * me talking = lot of head nodding / common sense-losing and a lot of  she-did-not-say-that looks on the face. 100% guarantee. A gazillion % guarantee. Okay, I will stop now.

Men are from Mars. Perfect men are from novels.

Have you ever wondered, how the most perfect men always exist in novels, movies and plays/poetry? We (women) know –an average man is just not programmed to say/ do the right things, they always end up saying things like, “that girl is hot”, “and why can’t you be more like my mother?” "Have you put on weight?” This is precisely why, women write romantic novels, because at least in this way, the men (in the novel) get to say the right things and not be such jerks. Hence, we create our own perfect man.

 In spite of all the terribly  wrong things said/done- we want a Happy Ending. Like in the movies- where, the couple walk hand-in-hand orwhen the movie end with the couple reuniting in the Airport/ Train Station, or it ends with the couple laughing in a coffee shop or with Tom Cruise saying, “You complete me” and the ever popular scence where the movie ends with the guy professing his love for her and seals the deal with a passionate kiss. As ridiculous as all of the above sounds, somewhere somehow - we want exactly that. I do not speak for men here; their (men) idea of romance still baffles me. All of us crave for a companion, all of us want our own happy ending, our own little love story to share with our friends and mostly, we all want that one person...forever.

For the longest time, I always thought a Mark Darcy or a Rhett Butler would be my perfect man but with my drastically low expectations and a recent disappointment, I know a man of such supreme quality can only be invented. Then, I started reading Shantaram. Lin, (the protagonist) from Shantaram sums up my idea of a perfect man (excluding the drug habit, mafia connection and all the murders, that is). I absolutely have to mention why I adore him so much- he is a traveller, a writer, a survivor, his confidence, his pure soul, his magnanimity, his devoted love for Karla (Lin’s lady love) is something that has deeply affected me, his loyalty, his unconditional love for his friends, his loneliness, his love for Mumbai, his attitude toward life- just letting go, enjoying the moment and giving life a chance. I clearly understand how impossible it would be for me to find someone exactly like that, but I am willing to wait for my version of Lin to surface.

I may not have found love, yet but, I am here on the other side and it is not as bad as I imagined it to be. Honestly, a relationship is quite time consuming; the pressure of being together all the time, sharing every single event from the past with the new person, there is no room for "me" time, the questions never stop, the constant bickering and all the drama is quite exhausting to say the least. Coming to think of it, I am perfectly okay being single. I am enjoying this freedom- I love that I do not have to be answerable to anybody, I am fiercely independent- the thought of losing my independence for somebody else does not sit well with me, I can spend a whole day in the library and not look at my phone for a text or a call, the calm weekends by myself is just what I need and I do not have to dress up or get dolled up for somebody- and not worry about how I have to wear my hair, what to wear and what to say. Sure, there are times when I do miss being with somebody, sometimes I want the wait to end with my soul mate coming out of nowhere and saying “ Tada, I’m here” and when I see my happy couple-friends I want that for me too.

In a relationship, I do not expect fancy Hallmark cards with a bear holding a heart which says, “I love you” or a stuff toy or a candlelight dinner or song like “everything I do” “Have you ever really loved a woman” (which puts me off) , I do not expect jewellery or  the I- love- you- baby- you- are- my- life nonsense . My idea of romance is as simple as this: asking me- how my day was, watching 30 Rock/ Grey’s Anatomy/ KTV movies together, a long walk, a comfortable conversation, a pizza date, and somebody who would just shut up in the morning and somebody who would just make fun of stupid people with me (I truly find that a very cute couple thing to do!)

I know my idea of romance is not old school or novel-type romance like I wanted it to be, but with past experiences and from a lot of stories heard from girlfriends in/out of relationships- men and women are from different planets. 

 Ladies, for a perfect man- grab your favorite novel, because that is as close  as you will ever get to a perfect boyfriend... on the paper.

Falling in love is the easy bit.

The common symptoms of falling in love- include, heart skipping a beat, the long drawn goodbye, waiting for the next time, the constant need of knowing everything, the big life-is-so-beautiful-to-me smile (which quite frankly, puts off regular people who are not in love), the irrational urge to keep updating status message(on facebook) about how happily in love you are, suddenly the grass seems greener, sky is especially a very pretty shade of blue, songs like “I knew I loved you before I met you” starts making sense, and even, Snoop Dog will sound like Sinatra singing, “ The best is yet to come”. Well, if all the symptoms checks out; congratulations, you are in love. I am in love. Yes, I am.

This is special, it started out as a little crush, the more I got to know- the more I fell in love, time stood still, everything that was said or done seemed so special, I actually have a big pathetic I-am-in-love grin on my face. People are very sceptical about this relationship; my family does not have any idea of this mad love, but people who are aware, tell me things, like, “this is not going to happen”, “this is not perfect for you”, “you are crazy”, “you are just taken by how wonderful this looks, you are not seeing the bigger picture” Sceptics, you can say all you want, but all that I want to tell you is, B-A-H!

Okay, so before all of you start to think – that there is a man in my life. Let me burst the bubble for all of you. No, this is not about a man I am in love with and no, it is not a woman. I am in love with...Italy!  I think – that this love is true and it is here to stay. This love started like any relationship- flirting. I flirted with the cuisine, (which I absolutely love) they eat mozzarella, parmesan on pasta every single bloody day. The feelings developed when I discovered Tuscany. I sealed the deal when I started teaching myself Italian. I just can’t seem to get enough, reading Eat. Pray. Love was just a sign. As Liz Lemon says, “I. WANT.TO.GO.TO.THERE” Even though, me wanting to go there is primarily based on pasta-eating purpose, I have other intentions too- gelato, pizza, biscotti, farmer’s market shopping, café, pastries and bruschettas. Okay,  I want to go there mainly for food-related reasons.  Clearly, my world view is food-based and I am not ashamed of it.

Now that I established the fact that I want to be there- I have other intentions too, such as, learning the Italian way of living; buying a big, plush home in Tuscany with a big garden, in a share autos - free Italian roads, and I can say things like, “Toodles, I am off to the art exhibition in the city” or “I am going to spend my afternoon in the café, just reading or looking at the fellow Italians enjoying their afternoon” How cool would that be? If I were to live in Chennai, instead; I will be saying things like, “I will be there in 15 minutes, my share auto is stuck near Nugambakkam.” “I see a mentally stable but a very  stupid man peeing in the garden outside my home” If you choose a man peeing in front of your home to enjoying a quite afternoon doing absolutely nothing, but taking in the beauty of  Tuscany- I am worried for you.

Also, I would take up a fight with anybody who says, French is a more romantic language than Italian. I have a problem with that. I’ve learnt the language for more than a decade now and I can tell you, there is nothing romantic about the language... nothing! But, Italian on the other hand, *sigh* just plain sexy. Even the most ridiculous sounding word like Rats (!) – Mannaggia (man-naj-jeeah) is sexy. The country has a bakery (panetteria) and a cake shop (pasticceria), no cakes in bakery, and no pastries in cake shops. Am I the only one who thinks this is way cooler than all the endless museums in every Italian street, fountains, and libraries?

There are also other things I did consider, things apart from food-related stuff, like, will the new country like me? Am I good enough? Do we have lot of things in common? Are we compatible? Will I be working after settling there? Will things change once I move there? I like Godfather (that has to score me some brownie points), and I am learning their language so I can communicate with the lovely (hopefully) people there, will that help? Will my dad like the new country I chose? What if my friends were right, what if this was just a ridiculous head over heels love and not the practical kind?

For crying out loud, we have the similar tri colors for our flags, dogs don’t * woof woof* there, they *bau bau* there, like, Bow Bow. Come on, this has to be a sign, right? Why does falling in love have to be so easy when everything else is so hard? If only I was not such a romantic. *deep sigh*

Liz Lemon-Bridget Jones-Nigella Lawson syndrome.

Everybody needs a strong role model while growing up; I did not have one when I was growing up,  I am all grown up and I finally found mine in Liz Lemon, Bridget Jones and Nigella Lawson. For those who actually do not know these women, let me tell you who they are-Liz Lemon; Tina Fey, successful, funny, writer and kick-ass funny woman  from my new favorite TV shows, 30 Rock, Bridget Jones- the chubby, British girl who says the most darnest thing; Nigella Lawson- Need I say more? What can't that lady do?Also, did you notice, what is common between all the three women? They are Big, Bold and Beautiful.

It took me the longest time to figure out who I am- it may take  me  forever to find who I will be, but that is not what this blog is about.  I am- Big, Bold, Beautiful . A lot of people don't get this because being different is not really welcomed. Sad, I know. I stick out like a sore thumb in a group-So much so, I am stuck in a wrong professional course and I am very cynical about people's future in front of a computer,  I have what Bridget Jones calls : Verbal Diarrhea, I am not a size zero, I am over-the-top with everything I do, I cook ( I am not one of those people who think it is cool to go around and say, I can't cook to save my life, I can't stand in the kitchen and make something. That, according to me, is complete Bull Shit. Everybody. can. cook. All you have to do, try.) What I did learn is that being different is not such a bad thing.

Thanks to these women, I figured out who I am, and I am not ashamed of myself, not anymore.I do take insults to my heart more than the compliments( who doesn't?It is only natural to accept the wrong than the right, right?), I have  I- want -to -stab -anybody- who- says- absolutely- mean- things- to- me days, the sight of food excites me, I believe (like Liz Lemon) that the kind of relationship I want, should be 12 years into the relationship, watch TV together, eat in bed and not try any funny business, I can make people laugh, like really, really laugh.Talking about funny; relationships, I honestly don't have much hopes for romance, novel-type love stories anymore( Men have actually sucked any ounce of existing romance out of me. True Story) I don't believe in dressing up for the opposite sex, if a guy asks me out for pizza -I will consider that  romantic ( Yes, I don't believe in candlelight dinner nonsense; never have, never will ), leave me alone in a kitchen- I am happy, I am more Italian than Indian- so, anybody says anything bad about Italy, you dont-a know-a what-a you are messing with-a (my sick idea of typing  Italian- English accent. Sigh. The things I do) TV is my best friend.

But I've always wondered why Mother Teresa, my mother, my grandmother and even for that matter, jane goodall has not inspired me,why not? They are amazing, strong, independent, they have made a mark for themselves, they have shown me what kindness really means, and I respect these women, yes; but they have never made me have these "Eureka" moments, I- want- to- grow- up- to- be- just- like- her moments. This is because, that's not how role models are made, just because it works for somebody and it does not need to work for you. Your role model is your little stuff toy, your best friend, your companion through bad times. Role models are custom made- not a hand-me-down and  one size do not fit all, and you do not want to be caught dead wearing the same outfit as another person, do you? Role models are exactly that way. They are unique,they lead you to greatness, they inspire you, and most of all, they make you feel worthy enough to be where you are, and they give you hope, inspite of all the countless bad hair days, fat days, just plain bad days, dressing like a slob days, days when you make a big ass of yourself in public- there is something good coming out of it all.

 If somebody were to ask me in a beauty pageant, who  my role model is? I will have an answer. Wait a minute, who am I kidding, me in a pageant?

The Cheap Traveler.

I was one of those protected child- having a home near schools, travelling in an auto with a bunch of louder and more obnoxious children than me. (Yes, more obnoxious than me!) And, all I ever wanted was to be that kid, who comes by the school bus...Oh Oh Oh! Do I even have to tell all of you about how cool it is to come to school in a PTC bus?; barging into the class after the teacher has come and be that kid who tells us all these “bus stories” – about how a boy and a girl sat together in the bus *sarcastic gasp*, a catfight between two “enemies”, and all the “He was looking at me from the back seat, pa” stories. I. Was. Jealous. As a socially awkward kid, you can only imagine- how much I wanted this... to be popular.  I wanted to be that kind who barges in late to class, who has these weird travelling stories and oh oh oh! To travel by PTC!

So I got all my wishes granted, at the same time- I travel by PTC buses, I have weird “bus stories” to tell, I barge in late to class; I have this very weird relationship with God- he gives me everything I want, but just at the most inopportune times.  It is, as if, he is saying, “Shobitha, you asked for it, now stop complaining and be thankful that I give you everything you want.”  Who am I to question things?  I am digressing, coming back to what I really wanted to write about: my cheapness.And all I ever wanted was as a little kid was to travel. To cross the Gemini flyover, to cross Anna Nagar (In my defence, to be in one particular place for 14 years does start to suck, after a point; if all my schools, “hangouts”, tuitions, shopping- everything at one place, you kind of start hoping to break- free.), travel across the heavily congested Nugambakkam and *gasp* to cross Loyola College (which, by the way, is not so great. The sheen of Loyola College wears off after you see a bunch of guys smoking pot near the college; I have zero respect for any guy who smokes pot, just a bloody excuse to be a bad ass). Oh, the joy of being a grown up. 

 My master’s degree could  possibly be the worst thing that could’ve happened to me, it is making me doubt - my career, my sanity,  my happiness, my spirit, my health; the need to strangle everybody who talks about economics like they know it all ( very petty of me to feel this way, I know. But, I can’t help it. There are some super know-it-all kinds that have to ruin my good days!); but through it all, I have my travelling, my-pain-in-the-ass (literally and figuratively, pain-in-the-ass) travelling.   Last year, I’ve been travelling long distance to college- I’ve wasted all kind of money for autos, autos and more autos. Indians are very good with this bargaining stuff, because this is what we do- argue with auto drivers: A quintessential Chennai experience. So this year, I wanted to switch things up; I wanted to travel by buses, mostly. 

I present to you, my guide for travelling across Chennai through buses for a long, long, very long time:

·         Carry a hand sanitizer with you, all times. (You will not want to know what they do before boarding the bus!)

·         Carry your bag like it is your  child

·         AC buses are humbug. You pay a bomb to stand in a bus with sweaty, irritable and very uninteresting people who make it a point to let you know that they are sweaty, irritable and very uninteresting. So take the regular bus, instead. At least in that way, you get to meet sweaty, irritable and very uninteresting people for a cheaper fare.

·         Carry headphones- my defence mechanism. When they see me with headphones- they.leave.me.the.hell.be.  Auto drivers ignore you; people...ignore you, and the best part: you can switch off your music player, I-pod or whatever, to eve’s drop on school girl gossip, boy-talk amongst college girls; all the while they assume, I don’t understand a word of Tamil. (Apparently, all we women ever do is talk about boys, which is sick. Considering, that they don’t deserve all the talking about. Nevertheless, makes for good gossip, “study of human behaviour” and countless times, I’ve controlled the urge to turn around and advice them, but who am I to advice them about relationships?

·         Take a bus from a bus depot, always. Last thing you will ever want to do is get into the bus midway. People who are in the bus before you, look at you, like,  look- at- her- strutting- into-the-bus- looking- for- a- place- to -sit –when- I- was- here- first  look on their faces.

·         Good Idea: Carry a book/magazine/paper to read when you travel.

·         Bad Idea: Sitting next to a working mother with hot lunch boxes, which will burn your skin and you do not want get into their bad books. They will lecture you like 2^nd standard class teacher.

·         Carry loose change with you, all times. Conductors are weird that way. God forbid! You hand the conductor a 10 rupee note for 4 rupees ticket! Oh, what hell!

·         Do not try and help old people carry their bags. For some strange reason- they think, we want to steal their bags. True Story.

·         Kids in public transportation are pure nightmare. Really. I do not wish to sound like a children-hater, so I don’t wish to comment further on this. All I’d like to, kids are trouble!

·         You just start getting used to the eve teasing, people spitting ugly red slimy paan on the road and oily haired women with pungent jasmine flowers adorning their hair. That never gets tiring.

 As painful as the above guidelines may seem, but it sure as hell beats travelling in an auto with a cribbing, complaining, bargaining, perverse auto driver. At least, people in buses are people. How else do you feel the pulse of the city, unless you travel by the public transportation? Like a marriage, you have to stick to your public transportation, for better or for worse.