Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Matters of the heart

Dear Leonardo DiCaprio,

In small dozes, you entertain. In large, you become a habit. You made me keep on watching you, and watching you in the middle of all possible chaos in/around me. Finished with all you had to give in the last decade. Yeh Dil Maange More and you are going on a big long break! So you enjoy, alright! You deserve it. Buttt.. Come back soon! Waiting for your 2015 releases.

Fanly yours,
Neha




I am not a psychitzophrenic

With "Eyes wide Shut", "Saw" "Shutter Island" from "Rear window" with "The Lover" in "Hostel". Oh! That "Fatal Attraction" became a "Memento" for life! And I became a "Devil's Advocate" for "127 hours". For "A Beautiful Mind" always carries "The Butterfly Effect" even when in "Fight Club". Well, well, I am still not a pschizophrenic, and so am I.

Shutter Island

My take away from the movie - Shutter Island -

(Big) Thank God! At least me myself and all around me know me as Neha Saluja and not as Sana Julieah. Some know me as Nelofur though ;-)

Thursday, June 26, 2014

The Genie is out of the bottle!

From long-lost ages of captivity
Of camouflaged paradise
Of piercing blues

The era of  freedom, as she whims into
With a soul mildly intoxicated
And eyes softly moistened

For the winds of ecstasy
Of reality, of calming madness
Gust pass the Lady from all corners

Answering to no law
but to her own
Merciless, more than ever
Compassionate yet as she is

With her soul and her body
For life, for death
After all those years
Genie is out of the bottle!

Thursday, May 22, 2014

That Green Gown



Photo Courtesy- Google
It must be something to do with feminism I guess. Because I don’t seem to inherit this from my genes. But dolling myself up does more than wonders to me. It’s one of my impassioned fantasies, if I may say so, to drape myself up in that Long Green Gown, and merge in that elegance once, at least once in my lifetime. And that, exactly that will be my moment. Moments like these, which charm the hell out of me, even when I am crashed down completely, I call them moments of divine mercy. They hypnotically connect my imaginary sense of (well) being to my actuality, as jiggling as the latter may be.

No wonder, the promising potential of one's dreams coming true can be so strong at times, that it can totally phoenix one up when he is on fire.

Sincerely speaking, it’s not just the green gown. It’s a lot many things that I simply wish to do/see and want to stay alive for. If only fantasies were fantastic enough to come true.

I would have so wanted to splash down with Kanav in anything that's splashable. Be it the immersing water, the enticing drops of rain, the sand that's forgotten, the unstoppable rides, the complete insanity, whatever, that can loosen up the screws a bit and let some fresh air come in.
                                                                                              
I already have my heart set out on some of the oh so moving songs which will have me dancing to their rhythms, to their lyrics. These might just be posted here as a testimony of my loyalty to myself.

I so yearn to stretch myself beyond my limits and perfect that yoga pose I have been dreading for years.

How I wish I am capable enough to have Kanav grow into a capable and a sensible man. Its worth anything to contribute to and see a life -
-Live limitless
-And  yet being sensible towards sensitivities around.

How madly I desire to get into 'my' machine, the long awaited, and the little too ambitious one - 'my' black convertible Porsche.

And if luck still continues to favor, I hope to end up donating my eyes and enabling some long lost vision (some day)

That one day, this day, as I sit in my room, with a pen, a paper, a cup of tea and a realization that it's indeed miles to go before I sleep...

Thursday, January 23, 2014

My Precious



I punctually find myself in this dilemma of staring at my pearls and feeling oh so possessive about them. These little fellas, I tell you, are the most freaking amazing things I could have ever gotten access to. Had it not been for that non-ending day, I would not have ever known that my little friends existed and that they were oh so kind and gentle. 

As far as my memory rolls back, I can still see those blond stares around me. Sure, they are soft but they are uselessly empathetic.  Empathetic to the point of being frozen by my groans. They are just staring and staring, two of them even touching me thinking they are comforting me. Damn them! Damn all the painkillers I’ve taken! So many yet so unmoving.

My take – “When you are in pain, I mean extreme physical (or for that matter mental) pain, no freaking touch or whatever sane therapy can do a bit in relieving you. Period.”

It was in that moment that all those angels and faeries above sent this short, sharp eyed, male nurse to my bed with a Morphine injection in hand. And what followed next was absolute bliss.  

I literally remember to have not remembered even an ounce of my physical hell anymore in the hours that followed. Let alone the mental high it kicked me with. All at once, I was with my hubby, on the shores of the hospital, walking, hand in hand, extrapolating our future and happiness around our just gifted parenthood. That walk, that chilly Melbourne evening, has ever since then remained in my memory like some ride to heaven. 

(Un)Luckily though, along with my discharge from the hospital, it was time to say bye-bye to those incredible injectibles. But what I did get as an acceptable well wishing token from the hospital was a long enough prescription of Endone. Now this, as I’ve well discovered by now, is something which is ‘little’ less invading, but far handier and hence addictive, I guess. 

All those friendship quotes suddenly make so much sense now. They say it for a reason that "A friend in need is a friend indeed". And what better than these little stones which captivate all three dimensions of my being in just no time – my body, my mind and hence my spirit. A single doze hits me like a million of happy hormones, all in one go.

It’s been some long time since I realized that I am left with just 4 of my buddies now. So far, since then, my need to preserve them has won over my need to consume them. I am finding this pretty interesting. My clash with my addiction, for my addiction. After all, the awareness that you can go unaware at will is something. Isn’t it? And it’s worth the entire contest. June 2014 marks the finale of my chase. That’s when these tiny stones expire. Till then it's is all cheers no matter what! ;-)



Disclaimer - I am not promoting usage of drugs here. Consumption or addiction to these is dangerous to health. It’s just a narration of how one of my medical conditions led to my introduction to these and my getting trapped into the phenomenon of craving since then. It would definitely have been a damaging story had I had an unlimited access to these.
 





Friday, September 21, 2012

Bun in my Oven

Ouch! This damn washbasin! Always hits me at the weirdo peeing hours. It’s about 3:30AM in Melbourne. And here I am fully awake. No folks, it's not any jet lag. It's a bun, a spiced up bun, in my oven, a really hot oven!

So while Mr. KUNE (KUnal + NEha) is in the process of making and baking, his mama sits awake at midnight tired of the peeing sessions; and his dad is busy fuming off his mama further by his non-stop snores and spinning-in-bed chores. Poor mama! I know!

With an absent-minded awareness, a dull face, patchy skin, drowsy eyes and a body which I find hard to recognize, I feel, this entire odyssey of pregnancy revolves pretty much around the letter 'P' - You get a 'Pea' in the 'Pod'  as a result of some 'Pleasurable' moments. Your 'Prenatal' phase starts and then you 'Puke' and 'Puke' until you have been ‘Pumped off’ of your last bits of energy left.  Your good night sleep goes for a toss while you 'Pee' and 'Pee' all throughout the night. Thanks to the 'Pressure' on the 'Pelvic' muscles which make it difficult for the body to even turn around while in bed in later months. This is followed by the most awaited phase of 'Pain' and 'Push', I mean the ‘Phobiatic’ phase. And voila, here appears the handsome 'Pie'! Of course with a ‘Pack’ of ‘Pride’ and ‘Postpartum’ chores.

Oh my boy, my dude! Well, well there are still a few days to having you in my laps. At times the thought of seeing you and cuddling you wipes off my mind of all phobias. At other times, my phobic stimulus just seems to take over. May be its my preggo hormones playing wreck with my emotions, or it’s my worn and torn body at this stage doubting its capabilities once recovered, or it’s my dependency on maids in this maid free land, whatever it is. Trust me kid, it’s easier to be an obedient daughter or a daughter-in-law, a loving wife, or a supporting sister than to be a functional mother. However with a single kick of yours, my life seems to get a kick. With that magical wave on my tummy, you make me smile and jump with joy. With that beautiful shape of yours emerging in my belly, you make me feel restless about seeing you, about introducing you to this world. With an ultra-sound shot seeing you scratching your head, you make me feel you, you make me feel like a mother, you make me feel like the most energetic creature around who can do anything, just about anything for this cute Kiddiwink.

My Little Rug Rat! I mean Your Royal Highness! You demanded your mere diagnosis to be done not at home, but at a grandiose Hotel. It’s the night when our Hyderabad house was sprayed with pesticides and we had to shift to a hotel at 2AM midnight because of the pesticides putting unacceptable strain on my smelling hormones, marking a sharp decline in my environmental tolerance. Anyways the following morning, sensing your arrival, I decided to test your presence and voila – you had already popped in!  We are and will always remain honoured with your gracious landing.

Thanks to my motherly instinct which tells me that you are going to be a hard nut to crack. Your Highness! You either seem to be arriving with royal endeavours or you seem to be on a pursuit to bring your spoiled, kinky, irresponsible, and sloppy freaks i.e. your parents-to-be on track.

Your immediate next course of action was to ensure that your mommy was used to and comfortable with all the tricks of the trade cooking, and hence to ensure exclusive authentic mom-made savory bites for yourself in future. So you sparked off some fiery hormones in me which made me fire my cook, who had been serving us for 4 years. All at once it was time for self-cooking. I still don’t know if it was the actual fault of the cook, or it was these preggo hormones caused by of course you, My serene Highness.

Your Majesty! You deserve and command full time attention and care. So you made my days, especially mornings nauseatic enough to not being able to work from office. The day I woke up thinking I might just turn up in office soon, that day was sure to bring me a good number of pukes. With each puke, I heard your voice - “Enough of work mama! Stay at home with me, I Love You. You better love me too”. I was terrified even to take the name of ‘office’ in the morning. For it took me a few hard mornings to recognize that few words don’t seem to go well with you.

That was just the beginning. Very soon, I had to put down my papers because this ‘P’ factor brought with it another surprise, the most awaited ‘PR’ for Australia. As there’s an expiry date to activating PR visa, we realized there was no other time to visit there than then. So my Happy Little Vegemite wanted to be born an Aussie. May be that’s why this visa thing coincided with my conception. Your Highness made us leave our home, our families, our jobs and our country. So soon after, KUNES, expecting, jobless, homeless, clueless, just got up, packed up and arrived in Australia. What followed next was pure gamble.

Once a woman is in the club, she should not plan a shift. Though we shifted not once or twice but thrice before we could call some place home. Every time I wondered whether we were being railed or derailed, I felt the ever mine boy inside my tummy, boiling his own courage and pouring some to me as well. In the middle of an ocean of countless sensitive circumstances, a single sign of clean progress would make me weave new hopes about our years to come. And well! Seems the gamble played off well. Things started to fall in place. Yet.. Ninth month and here I sit, staring at our yet to open luggage which has just arrived from India a week back.  Well, a mother’s work is never done.

And my dear brave Littlie! All this while, your cooperation, butterflies you caused in my stomach, your ever growing martial arts (kicks, flutters, what not), your cute little face I see in my dreams and the excitement you bring with your anticipated arrival have kept the fire burning, and the aspirations elevated. Lucky are we to have you and the surprises galore you bring, which are already spicing up and energizing our lives. After having traversed through many a shades of the sky, and with a beautiful rainbow just around the corner, you are simply awaited and anticipated with lots and lots of love, wishes and prayers, and ouch! A little bit of labor-phobia!

From a flat belly to a belly full of paws and claws, from fifty three kaygees to sixty nine kaygees, from Me-as-Boss and Maid-as-Maid to MyBaby-as-Boss and Me-as-Maid, from mental tiredness to physical tiredness, from girly whirly shopping of all types to Toys & Nappies & Wipes,  from time-to-kill to a full-time-drill, from immaturity to a little bit of maturity, from a woman to a mother, the way I see it, it's been a journey from glamor to glory.
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