Lekhni tagged me with this “list 10 secrets about yourself“. I read hers and a few others and it was pretty much writing about oneself. Secretive or not depends on how open a blog one runs. Now, considering how fondly am referred to as an ‘open book/blog’, I was stumped. What more could I dig up about me that would hold a minute’s attention and not bring a yawn on the reader?

So I debated in my head on the whole tagline of this tag. So, jobless me one day decided to backtrack one route of the tag, by hopping from one taggee to the tagged and see where it goes. Guess what I disocvered? The fact remains that the word “secret” got tagged on along the way! Guess there are more freestylers around that I gave credit for. That is so what I’d do. Just to make folks talk I suppose. See how daring one can go.

Are you gonna tell us about your past loves, the time when you actually got caught for cheating, the jilted lovers or how about when you purposely sneezed into your sworn enemy’s food. Oo, how about the time when you spread that nasty rumor on that school friend who stole your position in the basketball team, or better yet the one time when you kissed your best friend’s boyfriend and pretended to care when you are hi-fi’ing yourself secretly or the time when you actually told your parents you were studying at a friends and ran off to watch the latest matinee, or something more naughty?

See, juicy? Very.

This is the kind people want to hear. Right? I know I would. Why’d anyone care if you liked M Rafi over Mukesh or if you grind your teeth when you sleep, or if you like french fries with mustard, or you read the last page of a magazine first? (I do, btw).

Nice, but ordinary. Don’t you think?

Now that I’ve set high expectations, it’s time to bring them crashing down. *wicked evil laugh*

I’ve done a few wild stuff back in the day when the repercussions couldn’t stretch too far and the only person I was answerable to or responsible for were, well, me. I now think back of all the capabilities I secretly hold within me and I occasionally feel twinges of self-pity, but definitely more relief as one can only shudder in horror where and how’d have landed if my parents had given me that freedom. Yes, that’s the kind of faith I have over my decisions!

I really did wish for this tag to be where I could teeter on the line and say it all, but I realize my readership’s increasing and some silent readers could very well be folks who may not look too kindly on my antics. So what do I do with this tag? (I know, ain’t I the girl scout trooper here, taking everything so seriously?! It’s a bane I tell ya.) So, this is how I plan on doing it. I shall tell you something about me, and then I shall take it a step further and tell you secrets I hold within me. These are not necessarily about me, but they are secrets alright. No, am not gossiping, and in any case, if you the reader do not know the person I talk about, it isn’t gossiping. I don’t have a name for it yet, but I surely know it ain’t gossip (and I am sticking to it!).

So, here you go. Remember they are secrets, so shhh:

1. I once bullied this guy on the phone. It was a prank that 2 of my friends and I put together. The said boy was a dork. He bugged us constantly. He kept telling us how he was handsome and a local Romeo and how all girls swooned over him when he, get this, biked (as in cycled)to school. Yeah. So, after a few months of this listening, one of my friends got so riled up and said, let’s play a prank. I ofered to be the voice behind this Juliet who would call him up and tell him how cute and smart he was and then ultimately when he was smitten with Juliet, we’d spill the beans. We were in 8th grade, and it went well. Afterawhile bullying came naturally to me. I was a bully in hiding. Such glee and pleasure I got out of the daily calls. Especially more so when he’d come to us later and with a pompous air declare how he had snagged a Juliet. was so much fun till I grew a conscience. No fun after that. Juliet stopped the calls and she slept better at nights. What an idiot eh?

No one need feel bad for the guy. He I believe married a gorgeous Sindi girl and is now father of twins. I wonder of course what that girl saw in him, but the saying love is blind didn’t just come out of thin air.

2. Was riding back home mid-afternoon once (must have been in 10th grade or so) and I saw my neighbor uncle do some major hand gesturing across the road. Tilt my head and I see this maid/nanny lady in the house across also similarly gesticulating. My very fertile imagination leaped with this spark. The uncle saw me and immediately grinned sheepishly and turned away. That further added chapters to my story.

3. I once tried shoplifting when I was 8 or so. I desperately wanted a set of some fancy colored bobbypins and mom refused. So as she stood and haggled with the pavement fellow regarding something else, I picked these up and held them in my hand, within my fist. The guy looked at me and shook his head. I slowly put it back turning very red in face. Thank heavens he was discreet and didn’t tell my mom. I swear I’d be walking around with a gollywog sorta hairdo with an inherent scare towards anything named ‘pin’.

4. A childhood buddy of mine recently got in touch. Last I knew he married this another friend of ours who was sufficientlys enior to him, married with a kid. Husband had passed away in the military. Commendable, noble gesture and the thing is, I know he truly loved her. Felt very happy. Then out of the blue he starts fessing up to me. He and wife indulge in menage a trois with a rotating 3rd participant. Was a little disconcerting, but as long as they are happy, who was I to judge. He assures me it’s a common happening in India, and I shouldn’t live such a sheltered life staying so far away from deep-rooted cultural restrictions. Ohkayy!

5. Since gas prices are hitting the roofs, I have started filling regular instead of premium into the Acura. Figured I was saving money. Till again, like an idiot, I casually told the husband and got an earful on how I was messing up his car and the performance and the engine’s getting busted etc etc and then he sat me down and did the math. For $1.40 I wasn’t exactly saving the world, the car or our savings. I filled premium this morning. (This was a secret till a few days ago when I got admonished for it.)

6. There was this girl who cheated on her Math exam for her 10th grade board exams. She and the girl sitting in front of her exchanged notes, formulae and read off each other’s papers. I sat in the row next to them and was really upset about it. Especially considering math wasn’t my forte and why should anyone else get more just by copying. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t rat on them. A few years ago, I heard she was paying taxes on her million dollar home in Palo Alto. Ah well, all those formulae must’ve worked well.

7. I was recently told that if one had a mole on one’s body that one couldn’t see directly but only through a mirror, it was meant to bring fortune. I have a few. Moles, that is. Fortune, am still waiting.

8. I once cut my own hair. I was perhaps, 10 or so, and I hated how my coconut stringy tight curls weren’t as pretty as Pamela’s or Sheetal’s. So in an attempt to look cute, I cut a few stray strands up front in the hope of them magically becoming straight bangs and I’d do a swoosh like them or the female in the LUX or some such ad. Did I say my hair’s curly? Yeah, so you know what happened. Got yelled at nicely and had to further anoint my head with more coconut oil than in the Nadar shop till those strays grew back.

Quite sure I had read the abridged version of Mill on the Floss recently.

9. I can take some pretty mean self-portraits with my itty bitty camera, that have been put to some rather good use meant only for one pair of eyes. Not elaborating further in case I incriminate myself.

10. I secretly think I look like a one-eyed witch in my profile picture.

No more secrets. Am exhausted!

So who’s gonna do a brave tag, and not chicken out by just telling us your favorite authors, foods, or movies? Wait, let me tag:

Altoid, Archana, Booboosmom, Neha, Terri, Lakshmi, SB, Shmetterling, Pavan, Adithya.

There’s so much happening since the last few weeks that June seemed to have been gone a long long time ago. That includes the vacation, the trip up, the events around it, coming back to work and how crazy the last week’s actually been. I need to start jotting down stuff before they get lost in memory.

1. Trip up to New England was good. Munchkin was quite the darling up and down, without making a fuss. Meeting extended family after a gap of 8-10 years was quite nice and a different experience. Everyone had changed and yet not changed in many ways.
2. Visited the Boston Museum of Science. AMAZING place. Really. After visiting the Smithsonian museums a few hundred times, this was refreshing time spent. The height was when the daughter, after spending 4 hours traveling the floors and exhibits, asked if we could come back again! There’s proof that if it could appeal to a middle schooler, the museum must hold a charm. Truly left bad that son wasn’t with us then.
3. Stayed a whole SIX days without speaking with son. It was a different kind of missing, and more than me I believe the husband fretted and wanted him back at the end of day four.
4. The interesting part is though I can’t nail it exactly, but son appears “changed”. Not in a bad, or significant way, but just changed. I guess this is what they mean when they say “every experience changes a part of you, and learning from it makes us a slightly different and better person than before”. I think I made those words up, but the sentiment remains. Feels good, definitely.
5. Sister and I in a frenzy to get my nose pierced ran to the tattoo parlor on the dot at 10 am. Only to find that apparently, they would open only at noon. So came home, ate lunch and then trooped back again. Can’t believe the husband actually humored me and stayed smiling through all the confusion. Boy, was there confusion. A set of family was leaving,and so were we to drive down, another family coming in, sister’s in-laws and parents each embarking on various discussions, with different sets of kids runnig all around getting in each one’s ways!
6. Had a panic attack when I was asked to sign a long very legal looking document for the piercing. Too many risks is what I thought. Half chickened out. Decided what the heck, it was just a teeny little shot of pain anyway. Thought this smooth middle aged nice looking man would do it as sister promised, but was called into a room by a short, pudgy chubby young man who sported a mohawk, jeans falling off his portly waist and a yellow bright tee which had way too many words on it for me to comprehend. His ears had ping-pong sized holes and he had more silver on his face, tongue, and hands than the gold in Tirupati. His voice on the other hand was probably the most soothing I’ve ever heard. With surgical precision he dove into the skin, right after the guy matter of factly told me “yeah, sure, everyone’s nervous”, just a bit, not much pain, but it will” and “stay comfortable, it does’nt matter to me how you sit” and “close your eyes, and we’re done” . Phew. The piercing as such was bearable, it was the twisting of the end inside that hurt, and I did say a few “aahs and ouchouchouch” but it was over before I knew it.
7. Come home to be welcomed like a strange being from outer space. The brother-in-law armed with a handycam, I had 6 pairs of eyes searching my nose and my face and the most inevitable question: “Did it hurt?” and constant approval nods. The husband just refused to offer any opinion and smiled through the whole thing. I even stuck my nose right up close and personal, and he just shooed me away “yea yea, it’s fine”. The poor guy. The stuff I put him through. In any case, I must give credit where it’s due. He’s a darling for allowing me to do what I want, and not let himself be burdened by it.
8. Then got into the vanand drove home down i-95 in record 8 hours, with 3 stops!!! No, I didn’t drive, he did. On complaining coz I feel he doesn’t let me drive, as he thinks am incapable of it, I was quite strongly reminded of another viewpoint by sister and sister’s father-in-law. That point being, that the husband cares for me so much that he’d rather bear the stress of driving than put me through it. Yeah. Okay. The husband had a look of relief when this was mentioned aloud.
9. Watched July 4th fireworks along with a few friends at the local High school. Drenched to the skin. The spirit once the fireworks started didnt wane a bit and in fact it dodn’t seem to bother anyone absolutely despite the crowds, waits and traffic. Seeing the enthusiasm, the joie de vivre and the sense of belonging folks exhibited, mom and I wished we Indians could do the same on such days at least.
10. Realized leaving work early only meant doing 8-10 hour work in 6 hours. That’s a lot to cram in, but at least I leave happy. I swore I would never bring home work and I hope to keep that up. It’s work. It’s part of my life and it shall stay back where it belongs.
11. This past week has been crazy and I’ve probably been putting in close to 70 miles a day. Pressing the accelerator with my right foot has only laid major stress on my right knee. It now hurts more than I can ignore and it’s only getting worse. Hoping to get rid of it in the next couple of weeks. The pain that is. The leg’s staying.
12. 70 miles is driving back and forth from work, then shuttling daughter and son to respective activities, and then the dance rehearsals in the evenings running late into the nights. The days were running into each other and it all came to an end Saturday night for the performance.
13. It was amazing to be back on stage again and the appreciation that flowed from folks who’ve never known me as a dancer before just added onto the most enjoyable evening in a long time. Probably the best moment was when my guru called me aside after the end of the show and said a few things that I would always cherish and keep in mind. It was a crowning moment and a timely affirmation, something that boosts a sagging morale. Accordingly, my foot and knee didn’t hurt the whole Saturday. Just proves that when you are involved and engrossed in a passion, the little pains, and annoyances cease to exist.
14. Have set a few goals for myself, now I only hope my bones and muscles allow me to realize a few of them.
15. Basement project’s driving all of us a tad crazy. I think it’s finally coming together, now to find a time to pack the junk we’ve been accumulating over the years a new home.
16. IKEA never fails to amaze and always delivers. Thank God for the swedes and their sense of style.

For gongura pachadi:

Anyone know where I can get this? Like pronto, yesterday, this minute?!

Who was that genius who forecast that there would be lesser blog posts coming through once I hit reduced hours?

Guess what? It is precariously standing on a precipice, on the verge of coming true!

Today I start to leave work at 2.30 pm, and the joy at saying ‘bye-bye’ to everyone while they made faces at me and humphed and grimaced and wailed at my receding back was a teeny step above blissville. Roads were crazy empty. Sadly, couldn’t zoom as the darned cops were almost at every corner hiding and pouncing on poor unsuspecting zoomsters. Come home and all I do is get back on the road shuttling between the library, optometrist, basketball game, and do the same route again for the pickup; all the while answering munchkin’s chattering inane and occasionally brilliant questions.

Considering that I blog from work (I mean, that’s putting good use of those boring in-between hours when you are twiddling thumbs and pretending to work) and the work hours are reduced, one doesn’t need to be a logical deductive reasoning guru to add the equation up.

But no, just to prove me wrong, I am now writing this post between making daal , choosing colors for the home theater in the works downstairs, and serving dinner. Now this kind of dedication is hard to shake. I do deserve an extra hour at work just to blog. Getting paid for it would just be perfect no?

Go Blogging. Yeah!

Waiting till the evening for the fireworks to start on July 4th was getting to become a bit of a drag [though that's a whole new story on how we did watch the works in drenching pouring rain] we decided to run out and watch Hancock.

I liked the movie. Then again, I love Will Smith. The guy’s amazing in absolutely whatever he does. Been watching him since ‘Fresh Prince of Bel-Air’ and he never fails to deliver.

That aside, the movie isn’t hugely spectacular. Nor does it leave you wanting for more, and neither does it leave you hanging with unanswered questions. The characters are loosely sketched not involving depth, drama or even instilling the need within the audience to want to know more. You know what I mean?

Sure, there is history between our man and Charlize and you spot that from the moment she makes an entrance , but one doesn’t feel the urgency to know what and who the heck are these two “super” folks.

There’s a teeny bit of comic relief when they hit and smash each other up or at least try to, and she looks a tad mature but yet quite gorgeous and sexy. Especially in her superwoman suit.

Jason Bateman playing the mortal husband of Charlize quite the sweet guy. One can’t help but feel a camaraderie with the character tinged with empathy as he tries selling his stuff. Then again, there isn’t huge melodrama or tears towards the end when there is a bit of a surprise. The storyline is simple, not too hackneyed or cliched [Unlike some of the reviews floating around] and offers just the right element of mystique, laughs and believable fiction.

Don’t expect fireworks from Will Smith in terms of action. His style’s intact tho’.

The movie is meant to be watched with as much interest as you’d read a Superman comic at the stall or the dentist office. It provides the entertainment you want without taxing your brain on the whys and the whats and the science of the film-making, strategy or story. The good and clever thing is that the makers have left the ending just at the point where a sequel could very well take off.

If anyone’ s seen it, what the heck and where did the eagle come from in this picture? I mean, I know there’s a symbolic eagle around the character, but this?

]]> http://kowthas.wordpress.com/2008/07/06/hancock/feed/ R http://kowthas.wordpress.com/2008/06/27/travwails/ http://kowthas.wordpress.com/2008/06/27/travwails/#comments Sat, 28 Jun 2008 03:36:56 +0000 rads http://kowthas.wordpress.com/?p=684

Thought process before embarking on a long trip:

• Sit up late into the night downloading songs that you arent sick of listening within a minute. The ultimate scare of 10 hours of silence broken only by the incessant “nagging” / questioning from Munchkin would be the ultimate motivator.

• The above task of downloading made easy as everything you listen to sounds new. New doesn’t necessarily mean nice.

• Hindi is relatively easy and sticking to the language would be awesome. Until sudden realization that I have the ultimate critic in dad. Debate. hesitate. Decide. No matter what songs, unless they are sung by BMK or Ghantasala or SPB, dad would’nt be a happy camper anyway. Decide to unearth some black and white DVD’s.

• Daughter decides to take her closet with her. Sadly, she was brought down quick to the ground with doing simple math learnt long ago in kindergarten, and the days of the week count.

• Have no idea why I started cleaning out the basement. Found some treasures. Relics that were once thought of as treasures and now wree stared at wondering why those were saved ever in the first place.

• Dry wall dusting collecting over my hair, arms, legs, pants and behind. A geisha would probably want to run and powder her face a little more.

• Sending son camping seemed more traumatic and stressful than sending a daughter to her in-laws claimed the dad. Well, seven days and six nights is no joke, and all the unsettling stories about insect bites, pottying in the wild, open showers, throwing 11-12 year old boys into ponds lakes with slimy slithering creatures as they make a makeshift floater with their shirt and pants. Yes, the ones they are in when they are pushed into the water. I am glad I wasn’t born a boy. The daughter agrees.

• Munchkin changed in and out of 11 dresses. 6 came from her grandmom, and 5 from older sister’s hand-me-downs. She was delighted to have found the vault of colorful dresses. I had no idea I saved them all. I had no idea why I saved them all. Sure, they are pretty, but still?!

• If anyone’s thinking am a hoarder, I would gently ask you to tilt your neck to the far end of the basement. IIT Kgp’s stamped notes and text books along with U of Alabama’s tomes lay in a few boxes turning yellow. Not a soul’s to lay hands on them. In contrast I have just 2 containers. Filled to the brim and the writing’s too round and cute for my own comfort.

• Discovered my 12th grade ( senior year ) white uniform scribbled all over with love, goodbyes and sayings from classmates of ‘88. Wow. Brought some fine memories back, along with trying to explain to the guffawing tweens why we wrote over our white uniforms and didn’t just have year books like them. Bah. Like they’d understand?

• Mom’s plotting to watch Maya Bazaar, while munchkin’s swearing by Shrek, and daughter is eyeing Harry Potter, but is inclined to Spidey. What do I care? I will be devouring Hungry Tide even before we hit the first pit stop.

• Have a birthday celebration every day till we leave sister’s. Way too many gifts to think of. Figured will deal with it once I get there. I really need to learn to not stress over the “perfect” gift. I know for a fact my mouth’s gonna be hurting by the time am back.

• Am tired and sore, my legs and back hurt. I still have to find that button down tight shirt that the son will be wearing before he makes a life saving device out of it. And here I am blogging about it all. See how much I care!

Toodles all, enjoy your weekend and hope the sun’s not too harsh on you, wherever you are. If i get lucky, I may just enjoy my vacation.

..and o, I plan on piercing my nose. Why? Coz my nose is lacking attention it deserves. I mean, it just occupies like say a thrid of my face, so why not add a shiny 3-d on it and see if it occupies the whole of it. Yeah? Yeah. Any kindred soul, say a prayer for me. The date is set for July 2nd me thinks. Am at the mercy of my sister, so we’ll see how much she manages to make me look like a maami from Ayodhya Mandapam in West Mambalam. (We actually have a wiki entry for Mambalam?! I am shocked!)

That moonu kallu mookuthi is resounding in my ears. Go Maamis! Go Mommies.

At the rate it’s been raining tags, if I don’t keep track or at least get started on them, am gonna get drowned!

1. Tag1: Vijay’s creative find a picture and slogan to define yourself sorta thingy. I know exactly what I am going to do, trick is to find the visual. Maybe I should get ferrari’s or CC’s support here..
2. Tag2: Zhu’s dinner meme. Am sure even she’s forgotten it, but see, this tag is so fun and I am having a good time just scripting it in my head. It’s like those budget-deprived decent movie scripts that lay fading on a dust-ridden shelf in a decrepit old movie houses. I also feel that it’s akin to the saying “the journey counts more than the destination” OK! I am just sugar-coating my lack of initiative, but one of these days, this script shall play itself out!
3. Tag3: I believe I have Nice matters awards to hand out. Ive been a selfish little (ok, big) thing holding onto it. Lakshmi and mayG graciously conferred it and am supposed to continue the chain. I haven’t. Bad me. Need to do pronto.
4. Tag4: Lekhni’s spill a secret. That needs some thought. Digging secrets that can be revealed. Requires some out of the box thinking.
5. Tag5: Munimma’s favorite character tag. Do-able.

Phew!

Now more of the littler important things:

• Am on vacation starting now! so yay!
• Still have stuff to oversee and check on tomorrow. Sucks.
• A cubicle decorating competition that I so badly want to win, but can’t coz of all the work that needed to be completed by today. Am seriously debating on traipsing over Friday and creating a zing around my already quite fancy looking cube(I have red, white and blue themed shoe pictures hung on one wall!). I expressed it out by mistake and a colleague thought I was nuts. I grinned back. Now she doesn’t understand if I was being serious or just joking. Yay.
• Missing a summer potluck at work. I hope they have lots of steak, chicken and beef. Wouldn’t miss a heartbeat on being 500 miles away
• Driving up on Saturday into New England to meet sister after a year or so. Looking forward (or not!) to meeting her extended family. Should be an interesting few days.
• Basement’s getting done, and the house is so cramped. I am jumping through boxes and sharp dangerous projectiles to get from point A to point B, even if they were across the kitchen table.
• Oh well.

My darling, sweet and wonderful daughter celebrates a birthday, and I officially have become a mother of a teen.

Yikes! Gasp!

Okay Okay, no dramas.

***

Dear daughter,

I have to start by telling you that you make me and your dad look good, with no effort of ours absolutely.

You came into my clueless life as a charming precocious little thing, and I must admit I learn more from you everyday than the other way. Thank you for putting up with my whims and fancies, for being the stable and grounded personality that our family needs. Your dad and I knew from the time we laid our eyes on you at Edith Cavell, that you’d be our beacon, our joy and most definitely our favorite. Just don’t tell that to your brother or sister.

Today is just a formality, an initiation into youth as the world likes to mark it, but elegance has always been you, something which you carry with you as a part of you. When folks affirm to me and dad what we already know but still find it hard to fathom considering you were born to us, it makes us beam, and swell with pride. You bring tears of joy to our eyes, and my throat chokes with the intensity only you can bring in me, when we see you on stage with the flute, dancing, making that 3 point shot, when you fight with great animosity with your brother as you claim your right, even when you argue and stomp off from us.

Thank you for being the responsible daughter, for being a wonderful big sister, a hardworking student and a real trooper. You are as resilient as they come, and may God give you more strength, wisdom and the forethought that comes with intelligence in the years to come by. God knows and we all do too, the next few years would be the most exciting yet the toughest that you will ever face. Creating an identity that you are happy with and accepting it enough to bring you deep sleep at night. I want you to know that we will be there for you through this time, and wish you would let us be your struts as you make it on your own.

I just went up and saw you tucked in your bed and the excitement of turning 13 is palpable in the room. I’d wanted to get you that Tom Brady jersey you wanted but the darn stores didn’t carry them and you know how prepared I am. Sorry.

I remember how at DSW, armed with 4 pairs of shoes (the most you’d ever bought at one shot and what funky ones too!), the grin on your face as you squealed and jumped with joy at the displays, and the number of times you told me “Mom, this place is so cool! ” and “Why didn’t I come here before?” and “please can you bring me here before school starts?” - to see you as a wild unfettered child was pure joy. For most of the time you behave, think and act on the maturity that our head somehow manages to churn. My eyes filled with tears and I beamed with pride when you so responsibly told me “mom, remember the jersey I wanted, it’s okay now, I have these shoes, I don’t want it.”, as we were walking out after having spent triple digits on the shoes by the arm loads. Oh okay, you got 4 pairs and I got 2, but still!

In any case, I swear to you, no 12-13 year old in her right frame of mind would ever say what you did. I know your brother won’t and most definitely not munchkin. She’s such a demanding little princess!

May all the world’s happiness be yours, as you most certainly deserve it.

Love,

Mom.

ps: sorry about your snap and the way your eyes shine. No, I didn’t do it on purpose, it’s the iPhoto’s editing software and yes, you look perfect, and no, am not saying that coz am your mom. Okay, Go have the cake in the refrigerator, yes it’s chocolate with strawberry mousse. You welcome. :-)

To the girl (am pretty sure it’s a girl, why’d a guy search thus. Oh, maybe he would since the girl is not doing so…. hmm.) who fell upon my ‘Munchies’ post on googling

“should a girl kiss the boys upper lip?”

The long answer: Just like we’d share everything with this other person from toothbrushes to secrets to ice cream to bed to passwords to keys, this whole kissing thing is a two way street too. You share. Lips.

Breaking it down:

1. His upper lip, her lower lip

2. His lower lip, her upper lip

For the most part, the girls are left no choice but to work the 1st method.

There’s also the:

no-choice 1: His Upper lip and Her Upper lip and no-choice 2: His Lower lip and Her Lower lip,

which let me tell you, folks have tried with very unsuccessful and messy results!

So leaving the 2nd messy set out of the equation, why are girls left with no choice but have to deal with that upper lip? The reason being invariably the guy’s already thought this over a million times and he has the whole plan waiting to execute. Especially if it’s his first time. Kissing’s under-rated, frankly. There’s a whole procedure to it as I was made to watch in this show (There are parts 1, 2, and so on so check ‘em out, quite amusing! Part 4 has the whole trying out the kiss part.) on Disney or was it Nick (I forget which anyways.. ) last evening. It was quite entertaining in a very informative way. More on how not to kiss than the perfect kiss. Which helps so at least you know there could only be this many ways to mess up, but then again, we are a creative lot. Boundaries of mess-up-ville forever expand with pioneers daily added. Go us!

So yes, going back to the mechanics of kissing, as I have been told in various situations and mediums, the male gender obsesses about everything that has got to do with ’sex’ . Kissing is part of it. More like a ’sriganesh’ - I know, not the perfect metaphor, but I shall use it anyway. As I mentioned earlier, since the boys have already rehearsed the whole process a million times in their rooms and other places - alone, they are pretty much rearing to go once the opportunity presents itself. Opportunity is of course having a willing female participant.

Though it might just seem simple to kiss, there are whole lot of factors involved, the combination of which helps or ruins it all.

The hands (what do you do with those?) the chin, the nose (those aquiline sharp noses folks love: look good only in Mughal movies and portraits, the stubbier the better, I’d imagine), then there’s the angle of approach (geometry helps, if you didn’t ace it in high school, chances are you are going to widen the angles formed by your face at the lips and thereby produce lots of overlapping of skin, and not the kind you want), the tilt or the bending by the participants to achieve contact and ultimately, the quintessential tongue. Let’s not even go there. That’s kissing 202. If one is googling on asking if the upper lip was safe territory, then we talking basics.

Coming back to your question. I am not sure about you, but I’d ask to google one more which is o so relevant to how you’d want to go about this.

As boys start becoming men, their claim to fame is the appearance of facial hair. Some take pride in it, some try as hard to make it look like the juniper hedges lining the lawns, but ultimately look like scraggly seaweed as garnish on an otherwise appetizing main dish. This upper lip with a growth of this hair we speak about on boys or men who want to continue to assert themselves, or think cool, will pose a problem. Never mind the fineness or the lack of it, it simply is in the way. Kissing the upper lip, or whatever else you want to do with it simply involves taking into consideration navigating the bristles. It’s an added challenge. Some women like it too, I am told.

Let’s say you get lucky, and the clean-shaven dude is in your stars, then the choices widen. This is when the lower lip starts to look appealing. It always is, no matter the gender, why else would the guys make a beeline for it? Upper lips are usually thin, unless your name is Angelina Jolie or Goldie Hawn or your capability to get botox shots. So the target is almost always the lower lip. Upper lips just hang in there like roofs, like a side artist providing visual interest, without which the lower lip might look orphaned. I mentioned earlier, that with both parties wanting the lower lip, it creates an annoying, messy and ridiculous situation, where the fight’s always on who has the lower hand (read: lip). No fun there.

Sharing’s good. So share, don’t hog, and work it. Dead fish are no role models. Be alive, and yes, you may nibble and kiss. Bite? Nah, not yet. Whatever you do, do not grab both lips at the same time. That’s just so wrong.

The short answer: Depends. The early bird in this case gets the worm er.. lower lip.

To love, intensely and with passion

and yet

not like, the details and the characteristics.

C’est possible?