Nightmare interpreted

Last night I dreamt of shielding my home from the living dead. Chalk-white pale and horrific yet strangely striking; she raged, tormented and cursed. But I held on till the sky was tinged with scarlet, when she suddenly took flight to escape the approaching dawn.

Strangely enough I woke up calm… not clammy and horrified like I usually feel after a nightmare.
And guess what I did?
I headed straight for my 10000 dreams interpretedI don’t totally believe in it but since I have the book why not use it?… I could not find anything precise though. All I could gather was indirect reference foreboding deceit and bad luck.

But dreams, I know, are complicated. The fragments may foretell doom yet in its entirety it might mean something completely different.
Perhaps what I saw was a sign to be cautious or maybe just an aftermath of watching Ghost Whisperer last night!

Dreamer's lane

Today I wish to share a dream... A dream house, actually.

It is a holiday home in the hills. Slightly off the road, hidden amongst the trees. A two storied house- a wood and glass wonder. There is a blue letter box at the beginning of the driveway and a flower filled basket on the porch. The living room is cozy and has an electric fireplace. A nice contemporary kitchen with a dining space. There are three bedrooms in the first floor with a balcony each. The windows are all huge bay french ones draped in the softest of silks. There are photographs lining the wall by the staircase. Perhaps there is also room for a chandelier and a floor lamp or two.

And there will be a garden- a roof top garden with bougainvilleas climbing the walls, ferns and azaleas spilling out of their dangling tubs and a host of carnations, gladiolus, lilies and narcissus. And a little rocky waterfall trickling away.

Beautiful isn’t it?

This is Tenné's vision. He had shared it with me a long time ago. Since then I have cherished a dream of my own. And I wish to share that too.

Seven o’ clock, one Saturday morning.

Breakfast in bed.

The tray laden with steaming cups of coffee, a covered dish and a vase with a single stem of rose.

A cheery “good morning” and a lingering kiss.

Light hearted moments over coffee.


he uncovers the dish to reveal the key to his dream.


The world is a stage

My first brush with on stage acting was in standard eight.

My teachers had to coerce me into playing the role of Samata Behen… inspired, no doubt, by Mamta Banerjee… in a satirical play titled “Rajniti” written and directed by our very own teachers of SA H--. I had loads of apprehensions … hence the coercing part.


I have a strong dislike for politics, I detest memorizing lines, the politician I was to portray had a body type complete different from mine … I am slender to the point of being skinny and she is ummm… not… And lets face it- I had till then never ever even acted a cameo!

So initially, I cribbed a lot. But I soon started to enjoy myself. And the play, which was to be the grand finale of the parents’ day celebration, was a huge success!! The audiences were in splits… papa laughed so hard that all the pictures he took of me are blurry… and the performances flawless… umm… except for the part were having dramatically lowered my eyes I happened to be gazing down at Patalji’s … yes u guessed it, an Atal Bihari Vajpayee inspired character... feet to find him wearing pink kitten heeled pumps covered in strips of black chart paper… apparently DD had forgotten all about footwear and in the last moment her uncle had improvised!!... I had to pinch myself real hard to stay in character.
Hence began my love-affair with acting. I progressed on to write-direct-act “The wedding” a pseudo-mime for our tenth standard final class performance with hilarious results.
The last play I was a part of was The short divine comedy by Eric Ferguson which I co-directed and acted in for the AVS morning assembly. Our then DHM called it a superlative performance!

In college it was a different story though. The dramatics societies there are complete fiascos… four years and they never put up a play… no love for the art and too much politics.

Hence a sabbatical.

Acting is my hobby and not my calling and I have never wanted to be a professional actor… too much hard work!

But may be, just may be, one day when I am retired…which I will as soon as I have made first million dollars… I will be a drama class teacher in a nice hillside school.

Till then, to quote Shakespeare “All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players”

Raindrops on roses

I have always loved rain.

When I was five, I would stand on the sofa and look out through the window as the skies darkened and the clouds burst. It was one of my dearest wish to be out in the rain… but predictably ma never let me… And one lovely rainy day my wish came true. I was visiting my cousins and all the adults were away… probably visiting a relative or more likely shoppingKD and I snuck out to the terrace with a portable music player and had the time of our lives
Ever since there have been many rainy day trysts. One memorable rainy evening last year, on an impulse I had even lent my umbrella to a friend so I had an excuse to walk back from college in the drizzle!

But my favorite rainy day episode was almost eight years back, when I had looked out of the window to escape an exceptionally boring biology tutorial. I expected to give my attention to the drizzle outside. But instead it was TennĂ© I saw, smiling merrily … oblivious to the raindrops falling on him… waiting to take me out on our first date.

The beginning

Ah hah! A new blog for a new beginning
Tangerine likes.

I had first thought of moving my old blog but on second thought I rather have a fresh one. And why not! Especially seeing that I have finally finished with my education. Ok! Ok! That’s stretching the truth a tad. I m not “done” with my studies I m just done with my B.Tech. Now that’s not bad, is it? But coming from a family of masters, double masters and doctorates if I even think of not pursuing higher studies I will be disowned before I can say BOO!
I guess I gotta get a master degree after all. Not that I don’t want to, coz I most certainly do. Its just that me being … well me… I rather do it on my own terms.

So, here I am sitting at home, waiting for my joining date. Besides, what better way to do an MBA than with a job experience. This way not only I have the cake I get to eat it too!!