The other day a guy pal of mine rubbished the concept of ‘the one’. He feels that there is no such thing as soul mates etc. However, I told him that we graviate towards some people more than others in relationships. So, maybe what we will experience in our lifetime is a series of ‘the ones’ — a series of two or three (for some Don Juan’s and Lolita’s, more) people we like, mostly, for highly intangible reasons. 

On a different note, two of my friends, this couple with a slightly maternal instinct (and I’m not complaining) wanted to know why I am not seeing anyone. ‘You are intelligent, attractive and nice’. 

After much pondering, I have come to the conclusion that it is all Jane Austen’s fault. Yes, I am afflicted (like many other silly single gals) with a Mark Darcy-meet-Lizzy complex (where ahem…yours truly is Lizzy). 

If one cannot have Mark Darcy, then Colin Firth will also do. But not Hugh Grant. Bad boys are history.

Share

Yesterday we ate at a restaurant called Ali Baba’s Klay Oven, in Colaba. Not a good idea.

Their food (we had kebabs, tandoori chicken, dal and roomali roti) is completely forgettable. They also have a Chinese menu and the dumplings take minimum half an hour to get made. We figured it would be like ordering chicken tikka at Pizza (though I’ve heard they are planning to serve full Indian meals pretty soon).

And they play that typical brand of retro music, you’ve heard so many times in your life, courtesy being a good catholic, or at least, well, a catholic (pronounced as ‘kate-lick’, and specifically from the Goan, Mangy or East Indian community), that you want to scream ‘blue murder’.

I had some very bad white wine, then took a lovely walk down the Taj Mahal hotel promenade, where we spotted a cute Toto look-alike with white whiskers (little doggie in The Wizard of Oz), who kept looking away from us, every time me and my dog-lover friend attempted to coo and call out to him. His owner told us that he was 12 years old, and a little deaf. Then they both trotted away.

The strawberry cheesecake gelato from Amore (off Carter Road) was soft and crunchy simultaneously. Try it.

Share

That immensely cliched-soundin saying, behind every successful man is a woman, might be relevant even today; I’ve noticed that single men with a slightly ‘geeky’ persona, become drastically more attractive, once they get engaged/married/start seeing a smart woman.

Now this isn’t cause I have some dubious fetish for married/attached guys. I’ve just noticed that when you meet recently ‘hooked’ fish, say six months into the relationship, they act more refined (open doors, are more helpful, all that jazz) and tend to look, better-groomed, too.

Ugly side-burns are history, the paunch goes and a smart, new wardrobe replaces the sloppy, unimaginative one. This transformation isn’t instant of course. There’s a lot of measured coaxing, which takes place. For instance if your boyfriend usually manages to look like he just tumbled out of bed, you gift him smart shirts and capris. He may be doing okay in life, yet you may want him to do better. So, you cleverly sow the seeds of ambition in his mind. Some people go back to school. Some change streams.

Basically, you slap him into shape. As that madcap Annie Spadaro in the sitcom Caroline In The City puts it (whilst eyeing a potential love interest who though cute, needs some grooming), ‘He could be a project’ (read make-out + makeover).

Chivalry is a definite acquisition, post relationship. A good friend confided that she dated a Barak Obama look-alike in New York. When he asked her post the date, if he could drop her home, she said No. Soon after he was on his way. She on the other hand tiptoed home, feeling rather frightened amidst all the dubious looking characters on the subway, at 1 am. The next day he when he called to ask if she got home okay, she fired him! “I was being polite, dammit (swear under her breath)!”

Their relationship didn’t take off. But he might have proved to be a Geek-God-in-the-making.

Share

I’ve become so addicted to TV, I should pay rent. Oops! I already do – it’s called Cable.

Anyways, 30 Rock is proving to be a hilarious watch, especially the female boss who is endearing in a very twisted sort of way.

And the crazies from Sienfield never let one down.

And Friends offers so many comical situations that one relates to, like say, having some friends who make a lot of money, and some who make so little, and knowing how to be sensitive to each.

And Boston Legal, which featureed a defendent (just last night) who cheated on his wife with a cow. And when put in the box, he testifed that the cow looked very much like his wife! 

Then there’s Scrubs with more wonderfully eccentric and some spooky one (like crazy janitor).

And then there’s 8 Simple Rules, where the humour is so corny, that it makes one wanna puke, but still, one can watch it post an mentally taxing day at work, cause watching TV takes less effort than reading a superb masterpiece like The Portrait of A Lady.

Then there’s Perfect Match and No Reservations and While You Were Out and on Travel & Living. And The OC, which has comic moments and is actually scripted by a quirky, cool dude (By the way my pal Alan forbid me to spill the beans on this one, lest people think I have the least happening life on the planet). So much to watch and so little time…

Think I need to join those tap dancing classes I’ve been meaning to join for a while…fast, before I turn into a TV junkie.

Share

Everyday I received umpteen invites to join some online networking site. Facebook, Orkut, Wayne, LinkedIn…yada, yada, yada…

Yesterday, someone invited me to expand my circle through something called www.desktopdating.net, and I bought the bait. 

I decided to investigate and ended up submitted my e-mail address to the site. The next page, which showed up, (cleverly) displayed all the ids in my Gtalk addressbook. And guess what? They were checked.

I clicked some button, and voila…it turns out I have now invited all the people in my mailing list (including bosses, ex-bosses, friends and ex-friends, ex-love interests, work colleagues etc)!

It also turns out that destopdating is well…er a dating site. Some friends e-mailed me back to check about the credibility of the site. One of them, a married friend based in the US, e-mailed me back asking whether I really want her to register on a registering site. Another, asked me if I had sent her an invite. If not, she warned me, it could be a virus that is using my name to invite people.

Another single guy registered only to find that there are only 6 women on the site!

The only other taker seems to be my dad, who has faithfully registered (and who I am sure, has no clue that the site helps one find a date), and invited my school friend Alan, to network with him on the site.

Now, if only a little birdie, spills the beans to mom…

Share

My 30-year old guy friend is feeling upset because in 20 year’s time he is going to be 50!

Share

A close friend made an interesting observation about moi today. She compared me to a sponge because my friends confide their deep dark issues to me, and according to her, instead of me passing on the positive energy to them, I absorb the negative energy.

I supposed other’s troubles do disturb me, mostly cause I tend to be rather impressionable in a very child-like way. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Her advice to me: be there for your friends, put please hang with more ‘positive’ people, who talk about exciting pursuits and activities and who are not ‘bogged’ down by the trails and tribulations of everyday life.

I suppose it’s going to be a bit of a tight-robe walk. Touché!

Share

Of late I have been meeting way too many people who seem to turn on the charm in the hope of getting a favour. It’s most infuriating!

Here I am, being straight and honest about the favours I need. And then I meet women who pout, pirouette and whine. And men who hope to dazzle by flashing their pearly whites, and paying lame compliments.

This happens, every now and then in both the personal and work space. And it’s not just strangers who turn on the charm.

Some close friends do to, because it has now become a way of life for them. They gradually ‘build up’ the momentum before getting down to the business of actually asking for help or favour.

I find it very annoying, because in a twisted sort of way it amounts to manipulation; they really hope you will offer to help, without them having to ask for it.

With friends, I usually tell them to cut the crap and cut to the chase. I prefer people who come straight to the point. I don’t need to keep tabs on my list of favours. It seems unnecessary since Karma does this very job for me.

Besides, my rule for friends and strangers is the same; if they genuinely need help, I will give (or at least try) to give it to them, sans trying to find mutual benefit in the scheme of things.

Share

I experienced a rather strange meeting this week. Some people from another company popped down to office for a meeting. Nice, friendly, amiable folks; all smiles extending from ear to ear. The boss took a couple of breaks, to do some thinking, about concepts we discussed. During those moments, the expressions of the other two people, alternated between smiling the razzle-dazzle variety of smiles and smirks of amusement.

I found it a wee bit difficult to reciprocate. A smile to me, is born somewhere deep within, and reaches the eyes and the soul. Its value is lost when it forcibly becomes a tool for communication. It’s possible that these folks were smiling sincere smiles, however, it’s really hard to tell sometimes.

However, I must say, a smiling disposition is better than a scowling one.

Like this lady (probably in her late 40’s or at least looked that age) who accompanied her husband and little girl to Sunday brunch last week. It was hard to tell if she possessed any feminine curves, under that old-fashioned blouse with puff sleeves and a floral print, and a shapeless pair of trousers. She had a curly mop of hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, what was most prominent was the intensity of her scowl — it cast a dark cloud on an already gloomy, rainy day. He husband on the other hand was attractive, well-groomed, one those men who probably only gets more attractive with age.

As I sang, I wondered — what was their story? Was he having a not-so-clandestine affair? Was she secretly lesbian? Did she feel insecure around attractive women?

There seemed to be no communication, no laughter, no camaraderie between the two. The little girl bounced about like a lost rocket. Not a good sign. Sigh.

Share

Yesterday was my mom’s 59^th birthday. At 12 am I texted her with a birthday message and also mentioned that she still looks about 40.

My dad reported the next morning, that she wants to look 30. To which I responded that 30 is er…moi’s age. All right 30 and a few months, he responded! My folks seem to get more amusing with age.

Share