The Valentine's Hangover

It's that time of the year again. 

Singles everywhere, beware ... coz soon you're gonna be flooded by lovey-dovey Facebook statuses, pics of couples posing with a cute tag line underneath implying they are soulmates (for the month, at least), sms's about the latest Valentine's discounts on flowers and chocolates, and all your primetime movie channels will be about how you can find love in this world on this crucial day whether you are a drug addict, a psychopath, a criminal, a mutant, an alien, a vampire, a tyrannosaurus etc etc ... 

So that's the fantasy zone. Now let's get back to reality. Somehow, it seems like the only person not affected by this overdose of sweetness is your boss or principal, who has shockingly not declared a holiday today. So you get up at the same time, go to your college or office, get through the day in the same fashion as any other day, check out the prospects in the cafetaria who are unfortunately seated with prospects of their own, and then get back home the same way you do every day.

 And before you know it, it's 9 pm, and neither have you received any surprise bouquets or chocolates from a mystery admirer, nor were you bumped on the street by a random stranger who turned out to be THE ONE in just a glance, nor did anyone in your workplace hit on you (probably fearing sexual harrassment allegations) ... 

It was just - a day. Like any other day. 

So what's wrong with you? Or what's wrong with the hundreds of thousands of millions of singles out there who didn't meet the One today? And wtf do you mean by "the One" anyway? Are we talking romance here or the Matrix? 

In fact, some of us have had so many Ones that the concept of singularity just doesn't apply anymore. 

To answer the aforementioned question, I shall state my own childhood example of the time when I thought Santa Claus was not just real, but secular too, visiting kids everywhere regardless of their age, caste, religion, class, nationality. 
  It was Christmas, and everywhere I saw these posters and images of Santa visiting kids at night and giving them whatever gifts their hearts desired. I was thrilled! Hey, I was a kid, and I had been good more or less, so obviously that made me eligible for my own Santa visit too! Mom, of course, was a bit more practical in her explanations as she told me that we didn't have a concept of Santa out here. I nodded in response, but deep in my heart, I knew Santa would come. That's what all the movies and stories said. So I went to sleep with a smile and ray of hope in my heart ... and woke up with an empty hand and no gifts. 

That was the day I realized that Santa - like aliens and their UFOs - was only interested in visiting the Americans and didn't really give a damn about the rest of the world. It was heartbreaking, no doubt. But over time, I began to understand the idea that I didn't really need a Santa to feel good about myself. In fact, the idea of a portly, hairy man sneaking into my bedroom at night actually began to sound a little creepy. 

                                        "Sleep tight, little boy. Hee hee..."

This whole hullabaloo over Valentine's - it's just another Santa mirage, folks. It's nice to see it in movies and heartwarming to believe in it. But sooner or later, you gotta accept the reality. Life is different. It's sloppy, it's slow, it's unpredictable (and not always in the good way), and you don't get miracles to solve your problems most of the time. However, at the end of the day, it's real. 

Your life is a story way beyond a two-hour feature film or an e-Card greeting. There are too many layers of depth in it to be defined by the happenings of one day. So why question your self-esteem and confidence because the greeting card and chocolate companies want you to? 

I am not saying you should close yourself to the prospects of love. When it happens, it will happen, and God willing, it will be everything you dreamt of. But till then, don't let yourself get limited by this notion of "if-not-today-then-might-as-well-never". Have a beer or a chai, meet friends, watch something funny, go someplace nice to eat, or just relax at home. If you are really intent on making this day special, then make it special by doing whatever YOU like. 

  Coz at the end of the day, the only Valentine who will always be there for you is yourself :)

The Tragedy Of Being a Woman In A Mosquito's World

Here's the tragic thing about mosquitoes. The male ones are vegetarians, that is, not interested in biting humans. They feed on nectar from flowers, pretty much like bees, and pass by pretty much unnoticed by us. 

  But when it comes to their wives - it's a different ball game altogether. Coz it's the females who go buzzing about our ears and make our nights hell for us. Now before that leads to a whole misogynistic debate, let me clarify that the reason the females bite you is not because of some vampire-like streak that makes them thirst for human blood.

Nope. The reason they suck our blood is because they need the proteins in it to develop fertile eggs. So every pesky little bloodsucker that you swat between your hands is actually a hopeful mother-to-be. Twisted, right? Almost makes you reach out and switch off that All-Out you have been using.

Of course, there is the practical side to be considered. Let's face it. Mosquito bites suck. They make you itch, they can infect you with a host of sometimes-deadly diseases. So no point being a martyr and offering yourself as a fertility donor to this specie.

But then, if we shift the perspective a bit and looks at life from a lady mosquito's POV, things do look quite depressing. Think about it. You are this caring, dutiful daughter since birth, picturing the perfect wedding, the perfect mate, the perfect family ... Everything goes along fine. You meet the right guy. Your friends like him. The honeymoon was great. Life's a dream.

But then comes the reality check. It's time for you to start a family. The only catch is that you now need to risk your life and limb to go fulfill Mother Nature's sadistic rules before you can become a mother. So while your husband goes off merrily to play amidst flowers with his friends, the onus falls on you and your fellow prospective mothers now to go into the dark zone of those giant haemoglobin carriers, battling toxic vapors, repellent creams, and of course, the swat! One moment you are harboring dreams of dressing your kids off to school, the next you are nothing but a crumpled mass of limbs and torso.

 Your friends look on in horror. Some cry. Some scream. But they have no choice. So they wipe their tears, murmur a silent prayer, and continue in their march towards the war zone, all in the hope of surviving long enough to see their first-born smile at them.

It's like a SAW movie featuring pregnant women as victims. It's that sick.

Everything happens for a reason, I guess. Maybe if one were to really look for a logic in this madness, one could argue that this was Nature's way of ensuring their population control. Can you imagine a world run over by swarms of mosquitoes blocking the sun?

Still, at the end of the day, it must make for a dreary bar conversation between the perpetual, vegetarian widowers.

image courtesy: www.wordexplorations.info

  "I don't know, man. I thought she was the one. I wanted us to have kids, travel, grow old together ... Next thing I know, she lingers too long on this guy's forearm and SWAT! It's all over ..."
  "Cheer up, buddy. Plenty of mosquitoes out there. In fact, if you want, I could hook you up with this chick I know -"
  "I don't think so yaar -"
  "She's a fast flyer."
  "You have her number?"           

Clicking away = Missing away

So I was at this Republic Day function in my which my friend, Anubha Rastogi, was performing a storytelling session (which rocked btw). My task was to click photos of her performance all through the show. And with the usual, manic streak that I approach every task, I made sure to click each and every moment I thought worth capturing as the show went on.

  However, midway through, I realized that in my zest to capture everything, I was actually missing out on the whole show. I didn't care what the experience was like, the only thing that mattered to me was to make sure nothing was missed out on record. So I put away the camera, sat back, relaxed, and that's when I actually began to enjoy the show. No rocket science there. We all know that the brain is programmed to focus on one thing at a time.

  Which brings me to the topic - How much of a camera-obsessed generation are we?

  Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Myspace – all virtual spaces dedicated to us posting our life on reel to thousands or maybe even millions of online users who may or may not care about it.

image courtesy: www.normsousa.com

 Go to any lounge or club these days, and you will find groups of people and even couples who would be more interested in snapping each other in various poses, or checking their Facebook accounts on their phones, or uploading the group pics they just clicked on Instagram, while the candles on their table wallow away and their food gets cold. The ambience really doesn’t matter. You could put them in a dark alley and they would still find an electricity pole to pose next to.

When did capturing an experience become more important than living the experience itself? And what is the funda behind it? Is the appearance of happiness more important than the happiness itself?   

  So here’s an experiment to try next time you’re out with friends. Put away that smartphone of yours no matter how many times it beeps or boops or burns inside your pocket. Keep the photo sessions for the end of the evening. Order something nice. Look at your friends’ faces. And just … be there.

Lemme know how it goes. 

To Bark or Not to Bark ...

So this latest image to go viral across social networking sites is "Seals are just dog mermaids. Think about it" with a pic of a baby seal lying adorably on some polar shore. And true enough, the furry little thing actually looks like a dog with no ears and a flappy fish-tail in the end. A bit creepy, but with loads of awww-worthy value.

Freaky, right?

It got me thinking - what if the analogy holds out to be biologically true too. A bit of research (read Google and Wikipedia) churned out the rather interesting fact that seals and dogs both belong to the same Caniformia suborder of the Carnivora order. Yeah, I have no idea what that means, either. The point is they both share similar ancestors, along with skunks, wolves, foxes, bears, and - get this - red pandas!

So based on the relation between dogs and seals, I came up with a few analogies of my own too, linking the various distant relatives together. For instance ---


A skunk is just a tiny dog with a delicate digestive system that farts whenever it's nervous.

"Don't look at me. I told you I was lactose-intolerant!"











A bear is just an overweight, steroid-laden dog with some serious bullying issues.

"How about you take that leash and stuff it up your ..."












Wolves and foxes are just dogs who think humans suck.

"Let's play fetch ... with yer bones!"












A Red Panda is just a dog that's confused about its roots (thanks a lot, Mom and Dad!)





"Who am I? Who am I???!!"













"Jadoo" is just a blue Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle in a yellow robe.

Okay, the last part was rather off-topic, but seriously, have been dying to point that out for ages!!

So what do you think, guys?

My sudden and dramatic brush with hair-fall, and a route-chart to recovery.

Going through your first major hair-fall experience is like watching an intense horror film. You stay seated on the edge of your seat and pray that the terror ends soon, only to be disappointed as things go from bad to worse, and all you can do is sit back haplessly and watch.

No matter how many times we may try to deny it by stating the examples of Jason Statham and Bruce Willis as possible role models, the fact remains that hair loss and balding are every man's worst vanity nightmare.

So I try every home remedy and rule in the book - eating high-protein stuff, applying oil vigorously over the weekends until you could literally make an omelette over my head, using a herbal shampoo, but progress is slow. My bathroom drain-hole continues to get clogged by an avalanche of hair, and let me tell you, it's heartbreaking. It's like you have done all you could to nurture this huge circle of friends who are now an intrinsic part of your life. And suddenly, almost as if in an epidemic, all of them start dying in front of you one by one, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You want to cling on to them, stop them from departing, kiss them goodbye at least for staying with you for so long ... but Fate cruelly snatches them all away, until you resign yourself to your fate and begin considering alternatives like Rogaine, hair transplants, photoshop ...

I had almost given up too, but then this chance brush with knowledge led me to an uncanny cure using a combination of items which has been working so far for me. So just thought would share it with you:

1) Aloe Vera Gel: It's like Mother Nature foresaw the advent of junk food, pollution, smoking, and every other crap Man could invent to screw his looks, and decided in a moment of pity to give him one gift that could serve as a DIY kit in case of cosmetic emergencies. That's the kind of esteem I hold for this underrated miracle gem. As I  discovered, there is no limit to what you can do with this thing - you can use it as an after-shave, antiseptic cream, moisturizer ... and of course, as a hair product.

  So where does it fall in the context of hair fall? Well, I figured that if aloe vera gel can be used to cure skin irritations and acne and dryness, why not see if it works for the scalp too? So I applied it on my scalp right after my shower and combed through the hair once. And the results were amazing. Instantly, all the itchiness and dryness vanished. Yes, a few strands of hair did come out since it was shedding season. But overall, the hair looked fine, and over the course of a few days, I saw a significant decrease in their falling too.
  The next step I did was Google it for confirmation - and the search results were more than promising. Apparently, the gel is supposed to contain 20 minerals, 12 vitamins, 18 amino acids, and is also supposed to be great at removing dead skin cells and fungus. Yowzah!
  And the best part: it is easily available at most chemist stores, so just hop over and ask for a box of it. Believe me, you won't regret it.

2) Diet: There are a half million websites with catchy titles like Miracle Foods for your Hair, What to Eat for Long hair etc .... so let me just save you your time and brief it up for you - 2 egg yolks, a handful of nuts (almonds, walnut), carrots, lemons, peanuts, cucumbers, poultry and fish (if you're non-veg)/ lentils and beans (if you're veg), and whatever fruits are in season. That's it. You get your proteins, vitamins, minerals, and all other other stuff that makes for good skin and hair.

I am not saying you will wake up the next morning looking like Tom Cruise, but at least you can rest assured you're not screwing up in your diet department.

3) The ultimate cincher ---- "Balayam" or the Art of Rubbing Fingernails for Hair Growth: Based on an alternate reflexology therapy which claims that rubbing your fingernails (except for the thumb nails) together can stimulate hair growth and stop hair fall; the logic being that there are certain nerve endings under your nails that - when stimulated - increase the blood flow to your scalp and help in hair growth, preventing greying and hair loss too.

 http://www.bollywoodshaadis.com/article/lifestyle--health/health--fitness/rub-your-fingernails-to-say-goodbye-to-hair-problems
  Now I had heard about this technique during my college days. However, under the confidence of my youthful, lustrous mane, I had brushed it off as a bunch of superstitious hogwash. Now that I am grasping onto straws however, I decided to give this method another cursory glance. And I was surprised to see that people all over the world from US to South Africa have begun following it, and with glowing feedback too! So I am definitely eager to see the results for myself, and hence, my fingernail rubbing routine starts from today.  

  These are my recent learnings as far as the issue of hair care goes. Am all in for following these tips based on my research so far. Hope they end up helping some of you out there too :)

  If you have any other tips to share, please do go ahead and let me know.

  Thanks for reading!

Why "The Leaking Pitcher", you ask ...

Yes, I admit it. I have been bitten by the blogging bug too.

After years of condescendingly shaking my head and tut-tutting my friends' efforts at creating a ripple in the bloggers' hemisphere, I have decided to hop into the bandwagon and see how it goes.

So here's the deal. This blog is gonna be - like most other blogs out there - totally narcissistic and unapologetically egoistic in nature. However, the one basic point of difference will be that instead of me bombarding you with my opinions and thoughts about various issues in the world (which most of you wouldn't give two hoots about anyway), this blog will be about me reporting in on at least one new thing I learn each day. That's right. Each day.

It could be a recipe, a new way to flush your toilet, a health tip, an ice-cream flavour, a dream destination, what women want, the secret of immortality ... whatever. The point is - every single day from now on, I shall make it a point to know and learn something NEW and interesting. And to make sure that for a change, I follow my resolutions, I shall make it a point to post it on here regularly with my trademark sense of humor, of course.

There are a few primary reasons for this exercise:

- Awesomeness and happiness are two things that increase by sharing. So it would be cool to have others aboard this trip. Remember, you are not followers, but fellow aspirants on the quest towards glory, self-improvement and the Secrets of Getting Six-Pack Abs in Three Minutes Or Less (okay, that last one is a fluke but I needed the keywords for Google search).

- Life is limited, and so is the goddamn posting space on Twitter. Plus, I keep forgetting my password.

- No one cares what I write on Facebook.

- I am not hot or famous enough to post selfies and spend my time watching the Likes soar up.

- In spite of the above-mentioned setbacks, I still consider myself to be a writer, so I need the validation that someone is reading me somewhere at some point of time.

- It's free.

So why a title like The Leaking Pitcher for such a comprehensive-sounding database of topics yet to be explored? The logic is simple. You might have heard somewhere that the mind is like a bottomless pitcher into which you can keep filling in all the knowledge you want, and there will still be space for more.

  Well, I think that's a load of crap, coz the implication there seems to be that whatever you learn in your lifetime stays with you forever inside that infinite pitcher of neurons, whereas the truth is that as you keep learning more and more things in life, you keep forgetting stuff along the way too. And don't give me that drivel about all the information being stored somewhere deep in our subconsciousness. That's like saying, "Hey, I am broke right now, but my late great-grandfather left me this huge fortune in some Swiss locker for which we unfortunately need his retinal scan." If you can't use it, you don't have it. Period.

So in my opinion, the reason the pitcher seems limitless to us is because there is a tiny hole somewhere below that seeps out the stuff it doesn't consider important enough to make room for more content. Hence, the Leaking Pitcher.

So my job right now is to post the stuff that I consider good enough for storing in my pitcher every single day, while you guys can make your own choices of learning whichever things you find good enough for your pitchers.

Let the journey begin .......