Jump !

It's been a while since an idea/ event has registered so strongly in my mind that I needed to pen it down. Having recently returned from a massive five week vacation to the US and London (yes, i know so many of you are cursing me for the five week vacation); I managed to do one thing that was on my bucket list for the longest time - Skydive.

I do not consider myself to be an adventure sports junkie - I do not need to jump off a aircraft or go wreck diving or bungee jumping but I do have a few activities on my bucket list and Skydiving was definitely one of them. To let you in on a little secret (and my family will agree), I get petrified of climbing up on a stool at home to remove stuff kept in higher shelves and cupboards - my feet tremble and I have the constant feeling of falling and cracking my skull. So how skydiving landed on my list I don't know and I can't explain but I only knew I had to do it once.

The planning for this started at almost the same time as the planning for the trip itself. I looked up every place I was visiting and researched sky diving centres there. I finally settled on the idea of doing this at my last destination in the US & my last big adventure in the vacation there, so Miami was the chosen one and The Miami Sky Diving centre was best one I found. I kid you not I must have visited their website at least 20 times in 3 days to read reviews people posted, videos of tandem dives, prices, the whole shebang. Once I was convinced, I began persuading my sister to do a dive too. Once in a lifetime experience I said and what's the worst that can happen - you die .. Of course we discussed a whole lot of worse scenarios but yeah a little convincing later she was on board too. Now the difficult part - telling my parents who were going to be with us in Miami. I thought and thought about it and then decided not to tell them; atleast not at that moment. We made the appointment for the tandem dive - where an instructor dives with you, paid the advance and then a few weeks before we were to leave, we broke the news. They laughed, thought we were kidding, realized we weren't but luckily no drama. My mother seemed quite kicked by the idea actually.

Fast forward to the day of the dive. My sister and I made our way to the airport - a long cab ride away from Downtown Miami. There is no feeling of anxiety or fright or happiness even; it's a little early in the morning and we are still sleepy. We are made to sign a whole bunch of forms which basically say "dude, this is entirely your idea and we are only here to help... so if things go south up there (literally); your family (and you, if you survive somehow) can't sue us. Thank you very much - enjoy your dive". My sister actually reads through each point and comes up with questions; me, I sign blindly. So the instructors/ tandem divers are here and we are getting geared up and we head to the aircraft.I believe that your instructor is super super important esp if this is your first dive since you go in with no expectation. As brave as you are, nerves start to set in and you need someone to talk you through. My instructor has been skydiving for 33 years and done over 8500 jumps. It's just like any office job he says 9 - 5 types (yeah right). The aircraft is a little box, and I am not exaggerating. It correctly fit 5 people - the pilot, my sister, I and our tandem instructors. Superbly uncomfortable with minimal place to stretch your legs and I am 5 ft nothing - I wonder how the taller people manage. My instructor has already given me a low down on what needs to be done once we are out of the aircraft - hands crossed across the chest, head back, back arched.. Sure sure it's simple. As the aircraft takes off, the excitement builds, it's finally happening. My instructor chats away non stop, asking all kinds of questions - where are you form, so where all are you travelling to, do you have family here, tell me about India, the weather in Miami etc.

By the time I finished answering his questions and posing for random pictures on his go pro (for the insurance guys, he says and laughs), we are at 10000 ft and my sister's tandem instructor has thrown open the aircraft door. When the wind hits your face, is when you know - damn this is happening. My sister was closer to the door therefore was the first to jump; one awkward smile to each other and the next moment she was gone. Holy hell - this is really happening. So I inch closer to the door, the wind hitting my face harder and i listen to my instructor telling me to put my legs out of the aircraft. I do and before I know it - I am free falling. Not a moment to think he gave me and I am glad he didn't. As we free fall and I scream, my instructor screams with me - its adds to the fun he says. Let me just say, the free fall of 25-30 seconds seems to be much much longer. So many thoughts crossing my mind - will the parachute open, will I crash into the ground below, haven't I reached 5000 ft yet, damn I am way up high, wow what a view and so much more and of course my instructor kept his chattering up with ohh look you can see the beach from here (yeah, like I was going to look at the beach as I plummet to the ground). Suddenly I feel a tug and the free fall has dropped speed and now I am gliding with the wind. Praise the lord, the parachute has opened - arms wide open and safety glasses off, I finally start appreciating the scenery so to speak. I finally look ahead straight and see the beach, look around and the instructor tells you those are the Keys. My instructor suddenly asks, you want to try some stunts - Hell yeah and two somersaults later my head is reeling & my heart is racing but I am thinking holy hell, somersaults in the air - awesome. I look down below and I can see my sister gliding closer to the ground and ready to make a landing. We prepare to land too and 2 minutes later I can see the ground inching closer. Feet up he shouts, we are supposed to land on our ass. Not the smoothest landing but injury free and I am glad.

An unforgettable 4-5 minutes of my life has now ended and I am grinning. All that we thought of and imagined all these months and we are done - the experience is ours to hold on to. The rush is unbeatable, I can't explain it. Was it scary, hell to the yes but was it worth it - totally and more.My recommendation for your bucket list - go jump ! 

My latest read - Remember the Time

In the last few weeks, I have been invading Flipkart and bookstores more often than usual and overstocking my bookshelf. I am not a single genre person; I have tried most with an exception to sci-fi which hasn't yet caught my fantasy. Autobiographies & biographies have become a favorite in the last few years although I can't credit myself for having read too many.

My latest acquisition was something I was particularly excited about and from the time it was delivered to time, I took about 5 - 6 hours and lapped it all up. It is the latest book of on my absolute favorite artists - MJ; called Remember The Time.

His life has always interested me and I have tried to read all I could find about him. This latest book, written by his body guards is an interesting read for one main reason - I don't see them glorifying Michael Jackson for the mega star that he was. The real experiences they had as they protected him during the final two odd years of his life reads as honest and at some points even bitter. He was beyond the regular description of famous, he was a living legend. His music appealed to every section of section and his story of hard work and success right from the Jackson 5 to his solo career making generated interested in all the tabloids. Unfortunately many remember him more for the controversies that surrounded him starting from the late 80s and early 90s.

The book is very easy reading; It is almost like they are sitting across the room and narrating the story to you between sips of chai. It is a long story and yes they give out a lot of details which may make you believe that the book loses paces in some chapters. It is a different perspective (according to me at least) as most of the usual pieces/ books on him focus on the court cases against him on the child molestation counts and all the crazy stuff the media rumored him to be be involved in - sleeping in a special chamber to maintain his youth etc. This book shows a very harsh reality of his final years; where he struggled financially and on the personal front as well. It explains so much of his paranoia - you wouldn't imagine these scenes occurring in the life of a man loved by billions across the world. It talks about how he didn't have a home of his own and was continuously on the move to get away from the glare of the paparazzi; how his life focused only on his children and making music for himself because that made him happy; how they saw him make mistakes in trusting the wrong people as they led him down the wrong path and they couldn't say or do anything. The writers i.e. his body guards continuously reiterate how he always wanted to be left alone with his family.

The book on the whole, leaves you sad; I have to admit (at least I was sad) but there are also glimpses of the small joys in life - beyond the money and the fame. More than anything, there is the realization that actors, singers, artists etc are all human at the end of the day - Their lives, fortunately or unfortunately are no different from us regular people. RIP Michael Jackson !

Ready, set, go !!

The last few months I have been trying to become more and more regular at the gym. I am still not regular; I do one week well and then I say I deserve some time off and take the next week off :P One of the new years resolutions every year is obviously to stay healthy and work out regularly but one very important on the list for 2013 was to run a marathon. Now what I had managed to do was sign for the Mumbai Marathon 2014; but it didn't fit my "2013" resolutions. So one weekend in early November; I came across a marathon hat was happening in Mumbai called Pinkathon. The idea behind this run was to promote awareness about breast cancer and it was an all womens' run. It sounded perfect and I signed up without thinking about it too much. I got my confirmation email for the payment and the distance - 5 km.

5 km... sounded simple and I was already on a fairly regular workout schedule so 5 km run - no big deal. See that's called stupidity, major stupidity. I decided that I must obviously improve my run time and pace besides the regular gym workout so I cut off cardio in the gym and decided to start running on the streets. The next day, my alarm rang at 6 am and I jumped out of bed all excited to begin. Tracks on, shoes on and I head out. a brisk walk to start off for 2 mins and I slowly break into a jog. I breeze past the regular morning walkers on the road and in my mind I smirk. But my jog was not a jog; I ran and 45 secs later I was huffing and puffing at the side of the road. So now the same walkers were walking past me with a smile that said " geez amateurs !". My smirk had obviously disappeared; maybe my mind had too... I could feel a throbbing in my brain, my heart, my legs, my ribs..  I could almost hear the 'thud, thud, thud'. Lesson learned - research is needed and I am no Mickey Mehta. So it begins - the countless searches on Google; how to run 5 km in one month, how to run 5 km in 6 weeks, dummies guide to waking up early to work out (yes, i found that too) - these are bookmarked on my laptop. A timetable to record running time was made in MS Word, printed and pasted on my wardrobe, where I religiously recorded my run time.I slowly started building stamina. The run time began increasing from 3 minutes to 6 minutes to 11 minutes till I could manage about 15 - 18 minutes at a go. Now seasoned runners, I know you may think ' Pfft 15 - 18 minutes, whatever !!' but I m proud. The pride you feel when you run and are not huffing and dying at the end - Unmatchable. The day of the run was a night away and excitement was building.

5 30 am is assembly time at the BKC grounds in Mumbai where we first start off with Zumba. It was awesome to see women from all walks of life, all ages groups, all parts of the city come together for this cause. Each one surely had their own agenda too to prove to themselves maybe, their families perhaps - I could feel the anticipation and excitement. I saw little girls all geared up to run; with no clue about the marathon but for them it was like just another sports day. I saw women probably over 60 years, all clad in their sweaters and Nike shoes catching each beat of the Zumba workout and all pepped up to run; some had signed up for the 10 km run - Impressed !

Now I have to say when the 5 km run started, you have no choice but to walk the first 500-600 meters coz the group is still all huddled together and people are getting warmed up. Then all those days of early morning waking and running and keeping track of time pushes every muscles in your body to begin your run. It feels perfect. Pleasant and somewhat chilled Mumbai air in your face, the clear roads of BKC (cordoned off by the organizers for the run) and hundreds of fellow runners each one pushing the other to run. As I run and run, I look at each corner and turn of the road thinking so 'we turn back from here and head back'; 'maybe here we turn back', ' I hope here we turn and head back' .. Dude, 5 km is long. Now I did my research (via Google maps) to understand what 5 km was. From home to JW Marriott and back, home to my school n back; didn't seem so long.. ho jayega no problem !! Whole different story when you actually run.

As we began to turn back to the start point, something inside kicks starts inside you and pushes you to run. Each time I stopped to walk, that inner voice yelled and said "Come one lazy bum, move it.. think of all the days you sacrificed sleep and went for a run". Apart from this cheerleader (/??), there were a whole guys standing along the end hooting and cheering us to run. Yep the finish line was approaching. I broke in my final run determined to stop only once I cross the line. About a 100 meters away and I see the line, clearer than anything around - a whole bunch of people screaming and shouting, the dhol walas at the finish were getting louder and louder ( yes there were dhol walas ). But my inspiration suddenly leaped multifold when I saw Milind Soman stand at the finish line clapping and cheering. A few steps away and I thrust whatever energy I had left and pushed myself through the finish line.

I was there, it was done... Over ... Completed !! I can't describe the joy I felt and can you imagine how much it grew when Milind came around giving us high-fives !! *gleee*

As the day turns !

She sits straight, her lean frame not quite filling the chair. The mirror looks larger than life. A typical woman's dresser this is - a few skin creams, hair brushes and combs neatly sorted into a tall wicker basket, a few exotic bottles of perfume stand proud; Chanel, Christian Dior, Estee Lauder. They look to distract her, those glistening bottles with mystical coloured liquids with aromas which will fill up the room. Today however, they do not catch her eye. She digs into her dresser drawer and pulls out an pouch. Black cowhide leather with a silver zipper and a metal brand logo on the zip hook; The intertwined LV is not unknown - Louis Vuitton. She scrambles through its contents and pulls out a golden tube clearly marked concealer. She dabs on little dots starting under her eyes and moves on to different sections of her face. A few times of dabbing with the make up pad and the skin is clear. A cover layer of foundation - one tone lighter than skin colour they say, and her skin is perfect. A dash of kohl to brighten up her eyes and some bright gloss on her lips. She is now content with her face.

She shuffles through her wardrobe and picks out her straight legged jeans; figure hugging one may add. They feel snug - good choice. A full sleeve black tee makes it way out next. The thought of facing hot Indian summer does cross her mind but no bother. Now dressed to take on the day, she makes her way to the living room where her little daughter is happily munching on her toast, smudges of strawberry jam smeared on her face, fingers and some on the table too. The little one smiles wide revealing a gap in a mouth where there should have been two front teeth. "Look Mamma, she says; I am all dressed today and waiting for you. You are late today". The little one's naughty smile is hard to ignore, "yes baby, Mamma is late... and you are a good girl. Hurry and finish eating; it's time for school." The little one runs into her arms and while she is being lifted, her mamma groans; "what happened mamma" and her mamma smiles and replies "you are becoming a big girl darling, mamma is not strong to carry you". The drive to school was filled with the little one's chatter - from singing to a popular film song to stories about school and friends. She glances from time to time at the little one through the Oakley sunglasses and absentmindedly responds to her questions. Once she is dropped off, her day begins.She heads out to the local super market to pick up ingredients for the day's menu. She looks through the veggies sections hunting for the freshest produce. Chicken for her little one who loves it so much is next on her list. A few other items are dropped into the shopping cart and its off to the cash counter. On her way back as she stops at the signal, she looks at the little children begging on the road and her mind rushes back to her little one. How would that little one manage without her, she wonders and then immediately brushes that thought off. She is uneasy as she drives back, she struggles at every signal to adjust herself in her seat. As she steps of her car, carrying her grocery bags, the scarf stays around her neck and sunglasses on her face. "She thinks she is some celebrity", the neighbours snicker behind her back.

She gets through her day; cleaning her home, getting the meals ready etc. She has help but she wants to do it herself. She needs the distraction she thinks, the mind needs to be occupied. The minutes and hours on the clock seem to be flying by and the little one comes skipping home. The until now silent house is filled with laughter again. The world seems different again, with music and dancing and giggles. She always looks forward to all the time she has with her little one. As the skies grow dark, she feeds her little one and puts her to bed while narrating stories of princes and princesses and happiness in a land far far away.

Her mind's uneasiness begins to surge again. The feeling is not unfamiliar; it is a daily occurrence. The knot in her stomach grows heavier. As she washes the makeup off her face, the marks are visible now. The bruises have changed colour under the layer of makeup and through the day; a tinge of purple now. Smiling hurts her but she had to. As she changes into her night clothes, the burn mark on her right hand from her hand being held under hot water is evident. Tears fill up her eyes as she looks at it and remembers how she struggles to carry her little one. Her back reveals vertical lines, the leather belt has left signs from last night and some nights prior to that. She shudders as her eyes fall on the grandfather clock. It is almost 9 pm. He will be home anytime; she worries, I wonder what his mood will be like; will his eyes be burning with rage like last night.. Will he be drunk like last night when he lashed at me with his belt and then simply passed out on the bed ... I wonder what will irk him today, the items at the dinner table today or the clothes I am wearing or just the look of my face. What ordinary household item will turn into a tool of torture for me ? What about me angers him to a point beyond sensibility where beating me seems like the only option ... I cannot scream else my little one will wake; she does not need to see this. The tears don't stop as she replays every scenario from last night, the bruises never stop hurting, she struggles to breathe. She wants to find a corner to hide but it never helps; she wants it to stop but it never does.

As her mind continues to imagine what fresh hell is going to fall upon her tonight, the door bell rings... he's here !!

Gym shim.. Glam sham !!

My Reebok "reeflex" shoes are out, I have changed into my non branded tracks and my faithful company tee and glance at my watch - it's work out time. It is the start to my 60 odd minutes of profuse sweating, constantly self motivating thoughts and more than ever, thoughts of the junk food I will eat once I am out.

But that's me, I am a different species in the gym. No make up, hair pulled back and completely messily tied up, semi worn out tracks and ultra loose tee; That's right I am not one of the glamorous ones. I see too many of those around me, it's brilliant to observe. They walk in with their Michael Kors bag and an additional original Nike/ Puma/ or some other designer gym bag. I had to add original coz I carry a Reebok bag too which I got for Rs 200. Reebok, really ??? I watch these women, chatting away in the locker room as they carefully apply their kajal - Maybelline vs L'Oreal .. the real test is if it survives your work out session, says one girl, as she dabs on NYX lip gloss. Dolly Pink, she clarifies; and then she points to the pink band on her tracks. Matching-Matching. By now I am ready and set to hit the floor but I hang back. The conversation and sight is too interesting to let go. So I fiddle around in my gym bag, looking for a lost something. Eyes in the bag, ears on the conversation !!

It's similar to the back stage of a fashion show. Now that we are done with make up, we move to hair. Now my gym bag contains the basic necessities - a towel, a face wash, a change of tee probably and a water bottle. But as I mentioned before , different species. Here as they loosen their hair bands, out jumps a hair straightener from their bag to settle their almost straight non frizzy hair. Now this sight makes me pull out all the tic tac clips i have hidden in my bag and strap down every strand of loose hair. God forbid, they stray off and these girlies turn their hair straighteners at me. By this point I have wasted enough time and head off onto the floor. My ipod is hooked on and the treadmill is switched on - the run begins. As I huff and puff in to minute 5 of my run, the corner of my eye catches the giggling bunch walking in, as they read jokes off their iphone. One finds an empty treadmill next to me and begins her work out. 30 seconds in and her iphone rings louder than the gym's stereo system. "Ohhh heyyy whatsss uppp... nooo noo not at all busy ... bolo na.." the conversation continues as she strolls on speed 3 on her treadmill. While she looks like barbie doll strolling in the garden, I look like I have been chased by hungry wolves - my tic tac clips are obviously useless in helping to keep hair together, face is turned red and my breathing has turned to gasping for breath. My next treadmill neighbour has finished her conversation and begun her run. Her hair sways as in the shampoo and hair oil ads, gently and perfectly from side to side, not a bead of sweat on her face. Damn her, I mouth and my mind curses her some more.

As I move to the next workout, my neighbour has moved on too - to her next conversation. Damn, I curse her again - the things I can shirk if I had that 24 inch waist ... One hour spinning class it is !!

My top 10 P's !!

Recently my random reading spree took me to an article on 10 P's of Marketing. I suddenly went back to 2008-09 and my B school's one odd marketing class that I sat for. As I now read through the list that extends from product to pricing to packaging ( ... yaawwwnnn); my mind wanders into some of the 10 most important things in my life; now not everything start with a "P".. Tragedy !! But I try nonetheless ... 

1. Patience: Most who know me well enough will say I have been blessed with tons of it. I can put up with the troublesome ones, the boring ones, the repetitive ones, annoying ones (in my head, i wonder why sometimes) but yes i do. It has helped me through the very first job I had - teaching, the second job I had - CSA at the airport dealing with a crazy lot of people and of course my current job !!!

2. Panchatantra & Potter: My books are and always have been a constant and rock steady companion. I may have ignored them but they never left my side. My mother is constantly annoyed with the no of books I buy off Flipkart - her worry being where to keep them. I am overly protective of my books and only a chosen few have the privilege of borrowing them from me. They are my portal to quietly shift into a world of magic and i fail to understand how people do not like to read (aka my sister - she was one of them but  slowly transforming)

3. Photos: You always need evidence of the super life you have; how else would people get jealous :P I imagine my house is going to be filled with memories (= photos), showing the beautiful people and times in my life. I had done up my study table years ago that way - renovation took my study table away but my photos stayed with me and are hunting for their next home to be displayed.

4. Postcards: I am a sucker for the written word. This extends out to the age old and now forgotten system of birthday cards and letters, to the more modern system of email, Facebook posts, Twitter tweets, blog posts, whatsapp/ BBM status and any other media that I have missed/ not started using. I still have a bag full of cards I got from friends, family, random acquaintances from years ago. 

5. Payday: So very important in my life otherwise how would I contribute to the wealth of owners of the million shoes stores and clothing stores. I believe you don't realize the value of payday until you run a house of your own; where anything you want to eat, drink, wear, apply and even show off does not magically appear out of thin air. It appears only when the balance in your bank account disappear. I bow down before thee, my payday god !!

6. Peace: A funda i totally believe "live and let live"; Life for each one is different and if you have extra gyaan in your head; i suggest you chant it out in an empty room. Needless to say i hate altercations. Those noisy ones who make a scene on the street, movie theatres, airports - full thumbs down by me. While I fully standing by complaining when the need arises, i also stand by the art of giving it subtly, effectively and many a times to the right people (read senior managers) - it has worked for me very well.

7. Port wine: For all those who are going "tsk tsk", i suggest you skip to point 8. I love my glass of wine (it could be rum+coke or long island sometimes). A stressful day seems to disappear, people sometimes seem a whole lot more interesting and bearable (it adds to my pot of patience from point 1) and of course its an extra excuse to meet my fav people. 

8. Party: Yes i love a good party too. Who doesn't like to put on a nice dress (read - an excuse to shop sometimes), add a little extra make up, strap on those heels and let your hair down to some super music. 

9. Passport: I am ever thankful to my parents for getting my little blue book done as soon as I was born. It is evidence of the many places I have seen and the waters I have sailed on the big red ship (My dad was in the Merchant Navy). My traveler bug has not left me and I pray it never does. Even though I do not step  out half as much now, the few trips I do take keep the bug in me happy and craving for more.

10. Pamper: I am a big believer of "me" time and also "girlie+me" time. It is much needed given we all work as hard as we do .. don't roll your eyes, i do !!! My mani-pedi, spa visits, lazy brunches, lone time to read, super long afternoon naps - are extremely precious for me.

** list compiled by PP aka Priya Pillai ;) **

One year older ...

My birthday tops my list of celebrations in the year. It is above any Diwali or Christmas and any vacation I may take and therefore September is the best month of them all for me. I am one of those who loves my birthday and more often than not, I begin planning for it myself. It starts with what I would wear = what i need to shop, where i will celebrate, who is going to be there and even sometimes whether I am going to celebrate it at all. Needless to say I love surprises, and I am the easiest one to surprise. I do not go into detective mode when one friend says lets just do dinner, nice and simple; I do not ask extra questions when friends inquire if I have plans with family on the day. Better to tell them my plans, don't you think otherwise how will plan the surprise :D

Age is usually a fact that puts off people from celebrating their birthdays. They do not want to be called one year older. "OLD" is an abuse almost - most still want to be 16. Me.. I do not want to go back to being 16. Why ??? Do you know what I was like when I was 16; not fun really. Fresh out of school and no idea about the world and what I want of it; that was the plain, stupid 16 year old me. Now who wants to go back being the clueless, goal lacking and also importantly penniless me .. Nooo thank you !!!

While I occasionally crib about getting old, age does not bother me. Hell yeah, I am 28 and I am lovin' it. I love every birthday I celebrate and that's my chance to reflect on the year gone by and see all the wonderful things come my way. Fine, so some years bring a few more downs  than ups but the ups do come around. Some things like to stick around year on year - a wavering bank account, a new ( and .. umm failed) diet plan with all the green tea and steamed veggies, a new (and eventually conquered by laziness) exercise regime, a new favourite genre of music, a different style of fashion. Heart breaks or new love adds a spark to the flash back on certain birthdays - then again what would life be with out them right ! Discovering a new place, an fun filled weekend trip, celebrations through the year add so much colour to my year.

My birthday flashback shows me all this and soo much more. However apart from all this, it teaches me one new thing about myself; and this revelation excites me the most. To borrow from my little left knowledge of Psychology, this revelation helps expand the "open" area and narrow down the "blind" as well as the "unknown" quadrants of my Johari Window. This, ladies and gentlemen, is usually the best birthday gift I get and they stick with me. So tell me why wouldn't I be excited about turning one year older !!!