Pe gya High Court da chaska - Private job hun kareya janda nai

At first I thought I’d put the title of this post as my facebook status – get a hundred and fifty likes – feel good about myself – and move on!

 But the fact remains that I am getting more and more partial towards my blog by the second, which I should be allowed to given that I think that my blog is my baby (like facebook is Mark Zuckerberg’s baby). So I ditched facebook and decided to write about it here - in my very own little space (even though I know that it’s not going to get me even five likes – people are surprisingly lazy to explore something new- but it’s not about the likes anymore, I guess). J

Very recently I told you about the worst feeling on my list of various feelings; it was the feeling of drowning (and also the feeling of dealing with a Govt. clerk). 
However, this post is not about that. 
It is about that heady-oh-my-god-i-cant-believe-it-took-me-24-years-to-experience-something-like-this-feeling and I figure, if you have been patient enough to hear me bitch about the stupid clerks, you have every right to share my happy-feeling too.

The happiest moment that I experience these days is WHEN I APPEAR IN A COURTROOM.

God, the thrill- don’t think of me as immodest- is orgasmic.

No matter how nervous you are before as soon as you are there at the dice everyone else changes into blurry images. It’s you at the centre stage and even though it may last for only five seconds but that sudden rush of knowing that it’s on you that the entire case rests is mind blowing. 
For that brief moment you are one of the most important persons in the court room - even though all you have to do is to seek a Passover or make a request for adjournment (fellow lawyers will know) – or may be even stand silently as the court goes about doing its business. And once you are done- the slightest look of appreciation in your-honour’s eye is more than enough to make you go- vroom.

Walking down the alleys of the High Court in your prized black robe – even if you are the one with the most simplest of the job in the entire building- makes you feel every bit worth it.

Yep! this is where I work and I couldn't be more proud of the fact.

Five years ago the word “corporate law” was so big in my dictionary that nothing else mattered. All I knew was that as and when I’d be done with law I’d move to some big city and make big bucks; That one day I would join the Honourable High Court of Punjab and Haryana to practise law – the very thought never even crossed my mind. What did I know back then that not only will I practise law but it’d be something that I’d myself choose to do? They say you are at the right kind of job if you are looking forward to the Mondays.

Well, so far so good.

Not that the High Court will stop functioning if I don’t show up but just the fact that I did something meaningfully enjoyable is more than enough to get me straight through the week.

I had heard many people say that Practising law is like ecstasy and once you are hooked to it, you are hooked for life. It is too early to say but as of now I will sign off with the following words – 

I am aware that it’d be long before the “big bucks” come in but till then I am satisfied knowing that every day at the High Court brings with it a new challenge - a new concept- a new Drama.

And here’s to a new beginning- Cheers!

Or should I say Order-Order!

Blogger dwara Jan-hit mein jaari

Okay! I know that you boys think that you can tell right away when a girl is bad news but here’s some fresh news, YOU DON’T ALWAYS KNOW. So, consider my post a word of caution. As and when you spot any of the following signs in a girl that you have just started seeing, RUN FORREST RUN:

ü  If at any point, during the beginning of your general dating-type thing, you hear her saying, “arrey aunty mere hotey huye aap kaam karengi...” (Aunty going in her head “beta pichley 25 saal se kahan thi?)

ü  Or, if you are at a dhaba, enjoying a sumptuous rustic meal and you hear her say the following words, “Chotu tum School jaatey ho na?” (Chotu going in his head, “Oh! no, not again. When will these rich bastards grow up? I have work to do after all.”)

ü  If she can easily pronounce CHANEL, LOUIS VUTTON and GUCCI but can’t say Chyawanprash.

ü If she posts a picture of a big-mansion like pent-house on her FB (making sure it’s taken at the right angle, so that the whole house fits in- in one picture) and the picture reads, “MY SWEET LITTLE HOME.”
ü If she is more than twenty years old and calls masar ki daal –Yellow waali daal.

ü  If her favorite football player is Rooney (I mean Mitt Romney). I have seen it happen. Trust me, you can't make this stuff up.

ü  If she doesn’t know what is 78 in hindi. (It is ath-athar)

ü  If her answer to everything is “aww”. (Boy: I think I have AIDS. Girl: Aww.) That’s the stuff I am talking about.

ü  If she is pouting her lips in a picture that is taken at her convocation.

ü  If at every party that she is at her official party line remains, “God, how can girls wear clothes like that?” Or, “I don’t booze.”  Okay there is nothing wrong with the fact that you don’t booze but everything is wrong if you are self-advertising it.

Okay now remember that this list is not an exhaustive list. There is a lotttttttttttt to add but I don’t want a long post so that it puts you to sleep. So, I stopped right  here but if u have a point to add. DO NOT FEEL SHY.

Dhuddu Nacheya

Dhuddu nacheya Jatta o Khilarri: A beautiful folk song imagining Bholey Shankar in the state of total trance.
Could I ask for a better title?
This year I took two journeys into the very remote corners of Himachal Pradesh. One to Bharmour (A picturesque locale in the remore interiors of Chamba district), almost bordering Pakistan and other one was to Shrikhand Mahadev located in an even more arduous and unreachable interiors of Kullu district. Of course neither of the two journeys could have been possible without the help of my dad, who is very well versed with the treks of Himachal and also happens to be a keen trekker himself.

Anyway I am not at liberty to publish all the pictures as of now, however I did manage to steal a little glimpse exclusively for my blog..

Here’s a bunch of pictures from the Holy abode of lord Shiva.

Hope you like..

Bam Bholey Nath !

This man made the trip every bit worth it. A 70 something guy making us look like a rucksack full of potatoes when it came to hard-core trekking.

A beautiful little temple on our way!

Not just yum, these berries that grow in the wild, are believed to cure a lot of diseases.

Shumko, the lady who served us tea, oh so lovingly!

Bholey Shankar comes with a snake. He had just had a sumptuous meal by the way. That's why bulging in the middle.

The village we stayed at the night before!

My desi chums!

An Irish fellow traveler smoking pot (Confession: He didn't know that I was clicking his picture.)

Lazy Bastard!

That's right, you can fly in too!

See I wasn't kidding about the trek

Shrikhand Mahadev

Mani-Mahesh

And finally the place, where no matter who you are or what you do, you just know that it's time to bow.

The Kailash

Mommie, what is sex?

I must have been in class seven at that time. I still remember I was sitting by the window studying Civics (we used to have it for twenty marks under social science) and it was one of those neglected subjects that nobody paid much heed to.  

I wanted to go out and play but mom was sitting right next to me, trying to make sure that I studied, so one thing was for sure that there was no getting away from civics that day. Anyway bored out of my mind I started reading out loud, ‘All of us have the right to vote irrespective of our colour, caste, religion or sex.’ Colour was fine, caste I understood a little, religion- i thought I had an idea about. 
But Sex- What the fuck was sex? (It was something bad that much I knew but nobody ever spoke about it.)

Trying to be a smartass, very innocently, I popped the question, ‘Mom, what is sex?’

As a near adolescent myself, I was aware that there was something about this word that changed the very body language of adults and kinda made them uncomfortable. Now normally I wouldn’t have had the guts to ask but now that it was in the book itself, I had attained a virtual right to question and not be snubbed in return. Mom couldn’t possibly get mad and if I ever had any shot at solving the mystery of sex. This was it.

But to my utter disappointment, very nicely mom explained to me how men or women can’t be discriminated against when it came to our rights etc etc. Yawn! 
Needless to say, it took me a couple of years more to learn what I had actually asked for that day- the hidden –darker- meaning of sex.

I know a lot has changed in the last one decade or so and sex is not as taboo as it was back in the day. I mean, you remember, don't you? that they censored that song, ‘sexy sexy sexy mujhey log bolein’ to ‘sweety sweety’ or something to that effect. But times have changed. Now a days, there are songs about people sitting nude on shitpots  (Leaving practically nothing to imagination).

There goes a facebook group by the name ‘Why poke? Let’s just have sex instead.’ There is no ho-halla attached to sex anymore.

But I have a point to raise.

I kind of miss that ‘ho-halla’. You know, the age of innocence? When a simple lip lock in Raja Hindustani used to send a terrible chill down our spine and so determined we used to be to escape that awkward moment in front of our parents that we used to rush to the kitchen that very instant, to get anything from water to apple juice. And never did we have the guts to come back in the living room until we were convinced that all the ‘Bad-stuff’ was over.

I miss the time when not every single sentence that came out of our mouth was distorted by our friends into a double meaning sleazy innuendo.
And  most importantly I miss the time when ass was a funny cute animal and pussy was just a cat!