Jewelry Giftcard giveaway

Hello Folks -

Don't forget to check-out the amazing giveaway I am hosting on my fashion blog.
Win a $35 giftcard towards beautiful jewelery pieces from Lotus Blossom Design !

Enter the  raffle here - 
http://www.loveplayingdressup.com/2013/08/one-month-blog-anniversary-fabulous.html



Love
-Neha

Passion for Fashion

Hola there - 

Hope everyone is going great !

Just wanted to let you guys know about this new blog I started ...
Its about something I absolutely love and almost live for  ~ ~ ~ fashion !!!!!!! ( so many exclamation marks and many more to express how excited I am :) )

Yes... after adhoc fashion related posts ( like this, this , this ) - I finally decided to dedicate a blog to my love for Fashion.

I love fashion, talking about fashion , finding  fashion in everything ( outfits, home decor , kitchen cutlery... basically everything ) - then why not write about fashion :) - Righto ?

I welcome you to read my blog, follow it and give me feedback like you've always so kindly done on this blog :)

http://www.loveplayingdressup.com/


Love,
Neha 

Friends & Family

Thinking about friends and family makes my heart feel like a marshmallow. I miss them so much- living 3000 miles away from home does that to you.

But wait!! Did I digress before even starting with what I had on my mind? Classic!!

Let’s try this again!!  I want to talk confess about my “Friends and Family” event problem. The friends and family that I am referring to is the annual sale at Saks Fifth Avenue. (My favorite departmental store …!)The Saks friends and family event is that event of the year where most of the stuff is 25% off !Its not one of those flash sales events where things get sold out if you blink, however, the popular sizes definitely are pulled away from beneath your eyes. I literally live this day...its marked way in advance on my calendar and there are no social events planned for the night before.

I love brands – no secrets there, but what I also love – is a great deal (who doesn't ? )

The online sales begin at midnight – so that’s when I retire early for the day, cozy up in my bed and start filling my shopping cart. Think that’s crazy? Well – the hubs does it as well.
Picture this … its 10pm …2 hrs. before the most awaited day of the year. The hubs and I are in bed, furiously filling our shopping carts, there’s too much pressure ...the clock is ticking… so much to buy, so little time.

And then its time – for the grand finale of the show. The main hero – the credit card comes out, takes a bow and goes back into its cove with a sense of great achievement.

This year, between the hubs and I, it was around 6 big boxes.

 A lot is still getting shipped. Some of the stuff is pre-order collection . While we wait anxiously for my passionate hard work to make it to my closet, I am already counting the days for the next event J

Happy place

We all have it. Its just that some of us have discovered it and some have yet to find it.
Its the shelter in turbulence - the ecstasy in joy - the solace in fear.
Its the happy place in our minds... the happy place nestled somewhere in our memories.
I know exactly where it is - and unconsciouly find myself running to it.
It gives me the strength to go back to where I came running from - to face it with a smile - with a fervor.
Its like the nook I know and the nook that knows me. Its like home - sometimes even better.
I treasure it a lot and wont let it get faded - never forgotten - never buried - always there - always easy to find- always mine.

Finding "home" in the most unexpected place

If I say I was terrified the first time I walked in ,it would be an understatement.
Yes , I wasn't the first one in the world who had a first day at work, at their very first job - nevertheless I was entitled to my fears and feelings.
Don't get me wrong , nothing could suppress my excitement and energy to step into the "real world". The fire within to prove myself, the passion to go nowhere but up, the upbringing that made me strive to be liked by all - there was a lot to work for.

I think its the fear of the unknown that is the most intimidating. I dint know anyone I would be working with and therefore dealing with unfamiliar personalities was daunting. The work itself was challenging , yes , but that's what I was there for , wasn't I ?

Everyday was a new challenge - work wise as well as from the point of view of working with new and different people. As time flew by, I started knowing people around , I started understanding my work and started making a place for myself in there.

I think I just breezed through each day. When people around me complained on Sundays about the weekend being over , I secretly longed for Monday to come so that I could be with the people I had begun to love so much.

There were colleagues, mentors, friends and role models. It was a place where every word you said was heard and respected. A place that offered opportunities not only to grow upwards but in all directions.

It was gratifying to be in a place where people acknowledged you and your work. The atmosphere was very professional and yet comfortable. Now comfort is a two edged sword. Where on one hand we do everything to be comfortable in whatever we do and wherever we are , it also means that it will hold us back from finding out if there are more comfortable things. I loved my work , the people , the place a lot ... but I realized if I dint leave ..I would have never left.

Making this decision,made me realize something else,something so big,that can only come from the most professional,mature and respectable people.There was always support at every step I took, even when I decided to take the step - to move out.

Today when I look back 5 years , I remember the day when I thought my knees would unbuckle and I would fall down, but I also remember that I dint take me too long to start walking as if I owned that place. Finding all good people in the same place is rare , but I am fortunate for having found that place with those people.

I miss the work, the environment , each and everyone very much . People around me say its unusual and some find it rather funny. I simply call it passion.
I don't remember a single day that I would complain about.
I learnt a lot, grew tremendously , met and worked with the best people.

I worked here, slogged here ,struggled at times , celebrated many times ... and before I knew it - it had become home !!

Pick those Pockets

Pockets.. don’t we just love them? Isn’t that where dad took money out from If you live in New England, you just cant deny that there is definitely some chemistry between those cold hands and the oh-so-cozy pockets .

I simply love dresses with pockets… they can playful and flirty – one hand in the pocket , one on your waist with a slight hip thrust , OR they can create the I-am-all-business-look-better-pay-attention-look so very effortlessly.

I came across this Sonia Rykiel dress and cant wait to put my hands on it or rather in those cute patch pockets.

Declare

Dream

Drool

Pockets on your dresses are right on trend…chic, cute, convenient !! so empty those pockets and go get some !!!

Some words ... just stay with you ...forever !!

His love is a kind of personal oxygen; it can lift you, and once it’s in you it becomes vital to you. I could wrap it around me like a shawl o use it like a sword against the world; I could hide with it, run with it, play with it, show it off like a badge of honour or curl up with like a cat. It’s moist and huge, pliant and energizing.
Around him, I feel lit up from some place deep inside; I feel invincible, extravagant.

Rhea to Karan - The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay

These words left a strong, an kind of inebriated impression on me.

They made me wonder ....

How many of us have felt a love like this?

How many of us have one person in our lives who fit this bill?

How many of us have one person in our lives who fits one of these attributes?

Whatever the answers are ... these is one of the most beautiful description I've ever read about love... about security ..about companionship ... about feeling complete !!!

Faith

Each time I think I am going weak - these words give me the strength to move forward .

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. i'll always be with you.”

Choices... bend or break

Life is all about making choices. Infact every step we take, no matter how trivial or how eminent, consciously or unconsciously we are making choices.
Some of them are obvious and some rather difficult and unexpected. We surprise ourselves at times – as if we did not expect ourselves to be capable of making them. Sometimes, these choices stagger us because this is not what we expected.

I’ve being doing some theatre for quite some time now. Nothing major, small roles in plays which run in the theatre district of Boston. The stage always gives me an inexplicable “high”, a great sense of satisfaction and boundless joy. I had to make a rather difficult choice yesterday.

I auditioned for a play recently and I absolutely loved the lead character in the play. The play is based on this girl who has a crumbling family, string of affairs with the wrong guys, anger management issues, a drinking problem, an abortion, a child with her therapist... and around all these issues – she’s actually trying to explore her actual self. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? I fell in love with the character the moment I read the script for the range of emotions and the varied arc she portrays. So obviously I desperately wanted a role in the play and more importantly, the lead.

Guess how unbelievably jubilant I would have been, when I received an email from the director that I actually bagged the role. It said a lot and moreover meant a lot.

So, rehearsals began and I was enjoying being the lead and in every single scene. Talking about scenes, some of the scenes was …ummm... sort of … R-Rated …lets just say that. My director and I had talked about these scenes and we had come to agreement that these scenes would be done such that they were in my comfort zone. We were three days into rehearsals and it was time to get into “those scenes”. As we were reading our lines and playing with the scenes – it turns out, I wasn’t comfortable. The comfort zone which I was supposed to work around with apparently did not exist.
The director came up with a few compromises on the script to accommodate my discomfort. But now the compromises were making here uncomfortable.
I understood, that as a director, she must have had some character – some scene in mind. I dint want her to compromise on that. So, I confronted her, told her that it’ll be okay if she wants to reconsider her casting decision.

She couldn’t quite understand the reason for my reservations. She insisted that it was only acting.It was only theatre. It was only stage intimacy. But, then, each person is different and we have different limits for different things. I tried to tell her that may be it’s got something to do with where I come from or may be it’s a cultural thing. But I knew, it has got nothing to do with anything else – its just who I am. Some limits cannot be justified or explained and for that matter – need not be.

She wanted me us to work around the scenes and try to explore our comfort levels of compromise and meet somewhere in between. But the truth is – there was no between that could become my comfort zone. I had to choose between finding a way to “act” out the scenes or give up the character that I loved and started getting into. I had a choice to make and a choice I made. A choice to not compromise and a choice to turn down the role.

Now I play another character in the show. It breaks my heart each time I rehearse for the show. My mom reckoned me that this was after all my decision, after all a choice I made. My dad counseled me – the way I did not compromise in this play – I should never compromise in my life.

A Toast to my favorite month

I am a summer girl. Yes – a true summer girl. Floral dresses, short shorts, tanks, beaches and a lot of margaritas!!!

Growing up in Bombay ,the only seasons we make friends with are summer and the monsoons. When everyone complained about the heat, I wasn’t far behind in joining hands for sharing the woes. But it dint take me too long to understand what people meant when they said that we realize the value of things in life, when they are not around. Well what can I say? – I moved to Boston.
Boston!! Where, the 4 months of summer is a luxury. It is treasured and pampered like the only girl born to a family of boys, after eons. When the winter season in Bombay is a complete stranger , moving to Boston meant not only befriending it – but actually moving in with it, because it lives with you for almost 3/4th part of the year !!

Living in New England has definitely taught me to appreciate the summers – but somewhere deep down I also have a secret affair with the winters here. It’s that kind of affair that you don’t talk about openly, like cheating with the winters on your beloved summers. But, there is something just so magical about the winters here that you can’t help but fall in love with them.

The early sunsets are notoriously blamed for making the days depressing. I beg to defer here .I feel the short nights and the long days call for the festive lights to be turned on soon. There is certain crispness in the air at all times of the day. When you have spent 21 years in Bombay, where snow is only seen in the movies, experiencing snow first hand, can bring out the child in you, every single time.

December itself is just so festive - a few days after celebrations of Diwali and a nice long weekend for Thanksgiving, enters my most favorite month of the year!!
The month of Christmas, Christmas holidays, the beautifully lit balconies, homes adorned with Christmas trees , the new year’s eve and ofcourse my birthday. Every single day is a festival and calls for celebrations.

Although we traditionally don’t celebrate Christmas, the trimming and decorating the Christmas tree has been a tradition at home right from the time I was a little girl. Waking up to find gifts placed under the tree, is something I look forward to every year. After coming to Boston, just walking down the Boston Commons, the huge Christmas tree visible from any where in the park, carols playing and the kids skating makes me so oblivious to the cold weather.

The first snow is oh so special – re-instills my love for the winters. Waking up to a white blanket that spreads across everything is a treat. I still remember my first snow in Boston, when I called up home and squealed like a little girl screaming into the phone – “its Snowing mom” and walked shamelessly with my mouth open trying to get the snow flakes in my mouth.

I shall not deny that there are times when I complain and crib and cry over the unbearable cold and the winds and times when I pray for the summers to come back – but the snow, these beautiful short days, the lights - this season will always hold a special place in my heart .

Officially - obsessed !!!

This time I shall spare the weather from bearing the brunt of my blame for my bout of baking. If something can make me almost skip my workout and rush home – it has got to be something serious. So now its official – I am obsessed with being in the kitchen experimenting with new recipes !!! :)

I couldn't wait to get home today evening and inspite of having a splitting headache,couldn't resist making what I had been planning since last 2 days,
to be precise when Mr.A goofed up “yet again” (not even getting into that right now !!! ) in getting stuff from the grocery store …huh !!! There are very few times when I ask A to pick something up from the grocery store on his way back home - so this time when I asked him to pick some bananas,he ended up getting half a dozen mushy , over-ripe ones.

Just looking at them , I knew they found their way to my house for a reason. They had a higher calling – a final goal to be part of something very delectable and satisfying – a banana bread :)



Its amazing that the preparation time for this bread is so less and needs so little work to be done and doesn't even result in too many dishes in the sink .Another great part of this recipe was that I made it without using eggs.

Ingredients :
3 ripe bananas
1 ½ all purpose flour
½ cup butter
2 tsp vanilla essence
1 cup sugar
1 ½ tbsp milk
½ cup chocolate chips
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt

Method :
Preheat the oven to 325F and prepare loaf pan ( 8in * 4 in )
Cream the butter, sugar and vanilla essence
Add the flour,milk,baking powder,baking soda and salt and mix properly
Mash bananas and add in the batter
Stir in the chocolate chips
Pour the batter in the pan and bake for 60 min.
Test with toothpick till it comes out clean.



I also made pani-puri today evening and with no excuse stuffed myself with banana bread ,then pani puri and then again banana bread . Cant wait to have it for breakfast tomorrow morning :)

Admitting to a simple pleasure

The Boston weather sure has been playing games with me. It looks like a cumulative conspiracy of the entire world including nature to stop me from going to my beloved mall.Living in Boston for the last 5 years ,has taught me that it is best to keep three fundamentals in my car at all times: an umbrella, an ice scraper, and a beach towel. I swear that I've used all three in one week, too. Last weekend was pouring incessantly, whereas this weekend called for such a heat wave , that the insides of the car were blazing and you couldn't’t step in unless someone turns on the A/c for atleast 10 hours before you want to step in.

Ok !!! I may be exaggerating, but it was so hot – that I just dint feel like doing anything but sit inside – watch a move, read a book… and COOK :)

Right from the day one of my colleagues' mentioned , that in the movie Amélie – breaking the caramelized layer of sugar on top of a crème brule is considered one of life’s simplest pleasures – I have been dying to make it and try it myself.

And since the time I opened my kitchen doors to eggs , there is a whole new variety of things that are waiting to be made.

If I may say, then Crème Brulee is one of the most easiest deserts I’ve ever made and the outcome is … you have to try it to know :)

Here goes the recipe ( courtesy Ohad's Recipe Blog )

Ingredients
.2 cups heavy cream
.1 Vanilla bean, split
.¼ cup sugar
.4 egg yolks

Method
.Preheat oven to 300ºF
.Pour the cream into a small pot. Split the vanilla bean and scrape the seeds into the cream. Add the two bean halves into the cream
.Heat the cream over medium heat, bring to a boil. Let cool a little.
.Whisk the egg yolks and the sugar until the yolks turn light yellow.
.Combine (Carefully) the cream and the egg yolks and mix. Do not whip.
.Boil water in a pot
.Place the ramekins in the baking dish and pour the boiling water in the baking dish – as much to cover atleast till 3/4th of the height of the ramekins
.Now, pour the mixture in the ramekins
.Bake for 45 minutes
.Let it cool for sometime and then put in the refrigerator for atleast 2 hours.
.Before serving : sprinkle sugar on top and caramelize with a burner.










(Disclaimer!!! I have to give some credits here to A for I am still hypocritical and not open to using eggs myself,my affair with the oven still continues where it touches me only when hot enough to leave love-bites on my hands and the burner was such a cool tool - that A was adamant on caramelizing the sugar himself )

Now I am definitely not of those people who believe in simple living and simple pleasures don't really mean much to me as much as my obsession with labels do. But I have to admit that the final product of this experience of making the crème brulee – which is -warm on top and cool on the inside – hard on top and soft and wobbly on the inside – almost gave me a high !!! Cracking the top layer of the sugar gives you such a pleasure – simple and unbelievable.





And to go give company the crème brulee, I made telepathic dahi vadas ( I say telepathic because more often than not – my mom and I crave for the same things and before I could ask her for a recipe, I see one in my mailbox )

When you’re happy and you know …

Weekend… isn’t this is the only motivation for dragging ourselves through the daily monotonous chores of life – home-work-home and the same routine again.
Now, I personally don’t feel the same (well, there are some exceptions always) – but that’s the general consensus that I have gathered. When you wake up on a weekend, you have an entire 2 days of just chilling out planned out.

Today,when I woke up, I just knew that today is a day to be made special. And talking about special, the first thing that comes to my mind is go to my “second” home – the mall :) But , since the weather Gods weren’t so supportive of my shopping plans, I decided to do the next best thing that gives me immense satisfaction – cooking !!!

Now, if you are wondering what was the occasion for having a special day – I’d come up with a hundred lame ones but the most genuine one being – do we need occasions to celebrate ? :)

So I decided to bake a cake and have a lovely spread of dinner to go with it.
As much as I am intrigued and in love with the whole concept of baking, I am equally intimidated too. More often than not, my Betty Crocker( cake-mix) ones also don’t come out as well. But this time, I gathered the spunk to bake one - right from scratch. I scoured through all my recipe books and goggled furiously to get something meant for a novice like me.

Finally, I zeroed down on a recipe for …hold your breath… Black Forest Cake!!!

I was so apprehensive in making this one, that I literally said a prayer before starting my mission: cake-from-scratch. But somewhere deep down I knew that my intent to have a celebrated day will not let anything jinx my mission.

And so I just did it …

Black Forest Cake: (adapted from multiple recipes available at http://allrecipes.com )

Ingredients
2 1/8 cups all-purpose flour
3 cups white sugar
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 eggs
1 1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 (20 ounce) cans pitted sour cherries
I banana
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 cups whipped cream
Pam

Directions
1.Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease with Pam on all sides.
2.In a large bowl, combine flour, 2 cups sugar, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add eggs, milk, oil, and 1 tablespoon vanilla; beat until well blended. Pour batter into prepared pans.
3.Bake for 35 minutes, or until wooden toothpick inserted in centers comes out clean. Cool layers in pans on wire racks 10 minutes. Loosen edges, and remove to racks to cool completely.
4.Drain cherries, reserving 1/2 cup juice. Combine reserved juice, cherries, 1 cup sugar and cornstarch in a 2 quart saucepan. Cook over low heat until thickened, stirring constantly. Stir in 1 teaspoon vanilla. Cool before using.
5.With a long knife, split each cake layer horizontally in half. Reserve 1 1/2 cups frosting for decorating cake; set aside. Gently brush loose crumbs off top and side of each cake layer with pasty brush or hands. To assemble, place one cake layer on cake plate. Spread with 1 cup frosting; top with 3/4 cup cherry topping. Top with second cake layer; repeat layers of frosting and cherry topping. Top with third layer. Frost side of cake. Tear the fourth layer and pat on frosting on sides.
Set a few cherries and bananas on the top layer.
6.Use the whipped cream to give different strokes of frosting.








A few things I shall change the next time I make this cake –
I am definitely replacing canned cherries with fresh ones and completely skipping the cherry juice,
I might add a little bit more milk, because the cake wasn’t as gooey as I would have loved it, buts that’s totally personal choice.

The funniest part of baking this cake was the hypocritical me. I am a vegetarian on paper – and only eat eggs in forms where it cannot be seen (e.g.: pancakes, cakes, cookies …) But when you bake a cake from scratch and you really wanna use egg – what do you do? Simply be hypocritical ;)
I asked A to pour the eggs in my cake-mixture and asked him to blend it, and I re-entered the kitchen only till all signs of eggs being ever used were gone.



I loved the cake, loved that it wasn’t too liquid or burnt. Loved the fact that I did not cringe on adding those extra layers of frosting and loved the fact that devoured almost half of it without feeling guilty.
After all – I was in a mood for celebration. Celebrations go hand in hand with calories!!! dont they ;)

To stick to my celebratory mood – I also made Cheesy stuffed tomatoes and Tri-layered stuffed capsicum.

Tomorrow definitely calls for an additional 30 min of workout, but for now I am just chilling out, celebrating with another slice of the scrumptious cake in bed :)

Generation Gap - what really defines and justifies it ???

I don’t know what or how many years define a generation gap. Is it the age difference between parents and kids, or the in vogue definition of the Gen-X and Gen-Y?
When I was a teen girl (ya… it’s been eons that was true), I heard my mom telling my dad to be more supportive of my never-ending phone calls and late nights and using generation gap as the defense mechanism to appease him.

But today, I see a whole new meaning of generations and thus the formation of meaningless generation gaps. My younger brother and I are just 4 years apart and I feel that he belongs to a completely different generation. He doesn’t spare a single opportunity to make me realize that we are generations apart.

What is it about the time that has passed between then and now that make things so different? Everyone everywhere seems to be talking about their time and the time now.
With the economy so dynamic, the fashion becoming family, and the fast moving technology, I would imagine the rate of a dinner dipping and soaring and the requirement of a bag from Fashion Street becoming a necessity from LV and that of a floppy disk changing to the saturated markets of iPods. But how did every change in life get to revolve around the passage of generation?

If ballroom dancing was the classical dance of the past time and I hate to admit that the “grind” is become the classical of today. With time moving forward, the strength in relations has started disintegrating and I can’t accept how people attribute the disintegrating relations to changing times. I also cannot accept how the different generations are claiming their own moral and cultural values.

Its fine that now not even the smallest village is immune from a coffee joint or the apparel industry is now booming with tatters called clothes. I’d call that moving forward and embracing change – but to attribute the misunderstandings between kids and parents, the friction between families, the negative mismatch of ideas at the work place and the disregard and disposal of values that have been laid down by the “generations” is definitely not justified- if given the support of generation gaps in defense.

People continue sulking about how times have changed from their time to now. I just don’t understand why this time couldn’t be theirs too. Times are really not changing, we are … aren’t we?

Statutory Warning : This addiction is not injurious to health

When I mentioned to one of my friends that I was working out while on vacation in India - I was taken aback by his reaction. He said just one word which dint even mean anything closer to what I was looking for. He said - DEPRESSING...yes just one word -depressing!

For starters - I fail to understand how can being religious about workouts be termed as depressing. I would have rather expected someone to say “wow - that's impressive" because the hell it is. To drag yourself out of the bed early in the morning when you are on vacation and snuggled under your favorite comforter in your own bed...your own room - it does take a lot of effort to get up and go to the gym. But fortunately for me - depressing as it may sound to anyone - working out is an obsession.

I hate to join the bandwagon of people where they claim to be obsessed about their morning coffee, or evening runs irrespective of weather - but cant deny it - I have climbed the train full of people where we carry an obsession to survive.
To some, my obsession for working out comes across as an act, or rather an act to overact … but who cares!!!

I am no fitness guru - and neither my diet nor my body can contradict that. I don't intend to give any lectures on eating right and workout regimes. I hog like crazy and eat sweets in my sleep and don’t have a Victoria Secrets model-body ( oooo how I wish :) ) body that would say something. But all I know is that working out is an important and inevitable part of my daily routine.

The rising heart rate – gives me a certain high. One of my workout-buddies tells me it’s the secretion of the hormone “dopamine” that pulls us back and back yet again to the gym. Could be!!! But I don’t believe in all that. The reason I go to the gym is because now it is a part of my system as much as brushing teeth first thing in the morning.

I am not anorexic and won’t starve myself to death if by some unfortunate reason I missed my workout – but now I would definitely be highly “depressed”. It’s an addiction – yes – and a good one.

People have innumerable excuses for not working out – the one I find most stupid and funny is – what if I stop going to the gym, I will put on weight. But my dear excuse-maker – why even let that happen in the first place. Just the way nothing can stop you from gorging on food – nothing should come in between you and your gym.
There’s a certain freshness you feel after a workout inspite of all that sweat. It’s also an amazing stress-buster. And if something that offers you all this and as a bonus helps you maintain that bod of yours – why run away from it?

May be I talk more than I actually workout… but I know these talks have always made people around me feel guilty and at the same time - motivated. No one around me can escape the sourness that comes innately from within me – when they try to “boast” that they have been slacking about working-out or have been too busy. I think they are rather lucky to have me in their company… atleast my sarcasm and ranting works in their favor .They have nothing to lose by listening to me – actually I take that back – all they will lose is lethargy, stress and those calories !!! :)

Brand Prostitution

It’s not the tallest tower in the world, or the artificially made palm islands that are still stuck with me. I am back from a vacation in Dubai and not sure what part of the city I shall be keeping with me for a long time – the super-cleanliness and the impressive management and architecture of the city OR the fake-brand markets.

I have expressed earlier my aversion for fake things, but what Dubai had in store is beyond my imagination. The city tour guide who was giving important exclusive information about Dubai – interesting facts, stories, tips about shopping and along with all that did mention about the “copy market”. Initially I dint realize what that would be – but when we entered the Gold Souk ( Gold Market) of Dubai – where on one hand Gold jewelery was ostentatiously displayed, on the other hand the fake business was in full force.

Instead of calling it business – I should rather call it as brand prostitution. Because the way it is conducted is no less than the prostitution we see in the movies.

Picture this - Men standing outside almost each and every shop and without making eye contact with you – they would go – bags? Purses? Watches? Louis Vuitton? Burberry? Prada? Oh my God!!! Out of curiosity Mom and I agreed to see their booty. Now the pimps as I’d prefer to call them don’t have their “stuff” displayed easily. We were taken through narrow streets and then to some dilapidated building whose elevator definitely was creepy. And taking us to the top floor of that building – a small room which was locked from the outside and the key is given to all these “pimps”.

Once we entered inside – the place was bustling with European and African tourists. But the stars of the show – all the walls were covered with purses from almost all designers – LV,Prada,Burberry, Dior,Fendi. Besides they had watches from Tag Heur, Rado, and Cartier… The pimps sell those as the “first replica: - whatever that is !!!

What’s more interesting is the designs these bags were in – some dint even have any resemblance to the original designs. Now for a person who is not a connoisseur of brands – these might come across as genuine. But a close look – and you see that a small thread is coming out or may be the inner-living is not leather . I saw various interesting creations at that shop. Some of which the LV designers couldn’t have come up by themselves either. But what does need a mention is the LV dustbin!!!



Almost every girl in Dubai had either a LV or a Prada or a Burberry. Now I know where it all came from ;)

I would never buy a fake – but one thing I couldn’t resist was the LV blanket that I saw at a general store near my hotel. The store owner dint even know it was the LV print…and was trying to prevent me from bargaining for the “flower-print” blanket.I eventually got the “red-LV-suede-blanket” at a verrrry reasonable unimaginable price. And for the record - I dont consider it fake - coz Louis Vuitton doesn't even have something like this especially in this red color...so this is actually an original LV-print creation - ALLRIGHT ? :)



I have to say that Bombay is not far behind in the brand prostitution business. I saw something being openly sold in stores – that would probably make the late Louis Vuitton stir in his grave … LV Lingerie!!!

My Soul-mate

You are the only one who can make me fall in love with you over and over again- each time I see you. There is this amazing inexplicable quality about you that draws me towards you each time I go away.

My connection with you dates so long ago that I don’t even remember the time when we struck the chord. I’d rather not sit and count the number of years we have had this relationship as it will seem too meager. I sometimes feel that you know me more than I know myself and I say this with great reason. You have always molded yourself in ways to adjust to my moods and have come across in ways that have always made me open mouthedly realize how can someone be so embracing.

I have always had my tantrums and have compared you to others at times – only to feel guilty because there can be just no one like you. Some of my friends criticize you for various reasons … they sometimes don’t like the way you look or sometimes think that you are too much maintenance and very expensive to be with. But the funny part is- inspite of that, I know they love your company and moreover make great plans to be with you. That’s your charisma.

Coming back to us – we have spent so many intimate moments together that I don’t see anyone else I can ever be so close to. You have given me niches in you when I was sad and wanted solitude and were with me when I was highly exuberant and wanted to celebrate. But we have had our ups and downs too like any other relationship. I wouldn’t be too modest in saying this – you have given me a lot on one hand but have taken back as much from me too.

Today we have been separated by distance... by the decisions I have taken... but I know and almost everyone around me knows how much I love you. How difficult it is for me to be away from you. And how much I crave each day to come back to you...

But I know that it won’t be too long that we will us away now… for I know that being with you is what completes me... like a soul-mate.

So Bombay meri Jaan… we shall be soon together. Inshallah :)
As there is no one who can make me fall in love with oneself – just again and yet again!!!

"Please" Mom

Ever since I was a little girl, I've had crushes on men I couldn't get. It was always older men who would sweep me off my feet. Now this isn’t too unusual or bad at all, as some might have already exclaimed at my insolent words :)

My mom tells me, that it is something that almost every girl goes through at some point or the other. So to list my crushes - it was my Physics professor when I was 16 and then the director of my college when I was 18, a famous dance choreographer, not to forget the endless list of stars I lust after and the list goes on. Once I went to see a "Raas-leela" conducted by a famous troupe from Mathura - and you won’t believe it - I fell in love with the person playing the character of Lord Krishna, so much to the extent that I had pictures taken with him and kept them hidden in my books. My mom once pointed out that I fall for people who are in power and yes...she was absolutely right - I have even fancied Rahul Gandhi at some point too.

I remember, my friends hooting when my Physics professor picked me up to answer a certain question - and me turning beet-red - unable to find the right words to answer the question. I doted on him so much that I fell in love with his car too and would fabricate excuses just to get glimpses of him :D

Regardless of all I mentioned above, the purpose of my post is a rather selfish one.
This time I have my heart on something and I need your help to get it. Fortunately it’s not one of my professors or the to-be-President of a country...but it’s actually a thing. It’s a bag.......I know how ridiculous this might sound, but after trying all I could rather unsuccessfully, I’ve decided to resort to make a global appeal...No...Don’t get me wrong...I don’t need you to contribute to my bag fund - all I need from you is to go - tell my mom to give me her approval.

Let me explain: I am in love and love is actually not enough to describe what I feel right now. It has reached the point of devotion and reverence (yes - I am still talking about the bag). And it’s a bit expensive and as my Mom puts it - it’s disgustingly exorbitant and not worth the hard earned money of any human being. And the thing is – as childish and immature it may sound, but I don’t do the smallest thing without my Mom's approval, so my conscience is just not permitting me to go ahead this time also.

I have tried everything I could - request/beg/emotional blackmail....
Here are a few excerpts of our conversation:

Neha: Mummy pleaseeee approve...I beg of u...
Mummy: I've said no...Now its upto u
Neha: Mummy u know, I won’t buy it unless you say yes. You know how much I respect your approval. Atleast in return of the respect...approve
Mummy : I know u respect my advice so much and that’s why I can’t let you spend that much on a ....bag. You should rather invest that money in something like jewellery...or just save it.
Neha : Some girls don’t even bother talking to their moms’ about big decisions of their life like marriage…and I am dying for your permission to just buy a purse…could you want more
Mummy : Neha… you are literally trying to extract your “yes” from my mouth…but you know how I feel about it

So on and so forth...we have been going since the last 2 months. I have almost memorized the mom-pep talk ... you have no responsibilities right now…but later you will…and you need to learn to be economical…blah…blah…blah…
But as they is love is blind…and deaf… I have turned totally deaf to my Mom’s melodramatic speeches on this issue now…but I still can’t ignore them :)

So I request all you wonderful people to appeal to my Mom…to just give me a green signal… Please write to her on http://anjugandhi.wordpress.com/ and tell her how fortunate she is to have an exceptionally respectful daughter …and that she should just say... YES

I know a lot of mothers’ probably agree with my mom on this…but please don’t forget you are daughters first and try to remember the doll in the store that you were literally dying for… remember the longing? Remember the impatience?

Those Angels out there

Everyday we come across people who touch our lives in a certain way. And in our so called busy schedules we just forget or rather overlook them.

Just a few months back when I was on my way back to Boston from New York – Now going to NY is like going to Lonavla from Bombay, if you know what I mean. The same distance, the same traffic if you miss the right hour and the same excitement. Coming back from New York is always a pain because the drive invariably gets extended because I could never leave New York at the “right” hour. Some store, some sale or something delicious to be eaten would always play a prank in holding me back. On my way back from one such amazing trip, I stopped at one of the Subways (fast food restaurant) to get a quick sub and get back on the highway as it was getting really late. Almost 35 miles and 3 exits later, I got a call from an unknown number which I completely ignored as it was so distracting and I was really in a hurry to get back home. Another 5 min passed and the seemingly persistent caller called back. Annoyed due the traffic, late hour coupled with the guilt of not hitting the route to Boston on time, I just answered the call. Apparently it was someone from AAA (roadside assistance service in USA) to inform me “Mam, your wallet and keys were found in the parking lot of Subway in Connecticut and they are holding it there for you. “Now…. Can you imagine the gamut of emotions I must have gone through in that one instance…? I couldn’t even understand that why someone from AAA would call me and how would they know and how the hell did I leave my purse … so baffled that I could hardly thank the person enough for the call. I went back almost 40 miles to the Subway to get my wallet with its contents zeroed down would sum up my life ( house keys, license, school alumni and library card , debit card, 2 credit cards, $100 forever21 store credit card , insurance cards , a $20 bill , and the lucky AAA card ,– none of these actually with my cell number on them ) Someone found my wallet lying in the parking lot and actually took the pains to call AAA and give them my AAA account number and look up my cell number and have them contact me. Now, to be honest, if I were to find a wallet in the parking lot, all I would have done is to hand it over to the concerned store. But to actually go through the wallet, find the contact information of the owner and if not easily available, search for something that could link the person… wow. I mean…that’s a completely different story. When I reached Subway, the person had already left with no name or number. I had no ways of thanking him… but if it were not for his honesty, presence of mind and concern – I would have been struggling to get my things back on track for atleast a month.

My cousin was in the Bean town from Chi town and we were chilling out at the Prudential. I was on the phone when I entered the restroom and maybe just left it there. Cousin and I left the towers and started walking towards my University (Northeastern) Almost 30 minutes later when his phone started ringing, impulse or instinct – I felt the need to check to my own cell phone. And there it was --- missing! Now the thought that atleast 1000 people use the Prudential restrooms every hour – the chances of getting my endeared iphone were so bleak. Numerous thoughts came to my mind–Apple would give me a replacement for double the original price and losing $400 from my new bag fund, the trouble I would have to go through to get my contacts, and then chiding myself for procrastinating to take a back-up on my laptop. On checking with the security desk at Prudential, apparently someone had handed over the phone to one of the janitors who further handed down to the Security office.

Now imagine if the person would have thought differently or if the janitor would have cared less and not bothered handing it over – I mean if it were not for those 2 genuine people, I would be fretting over on the phone with ATT and Apple to give me some discounts to get a replacement and not to mention the trouble to get the numbers congregated over all these years!!!

Therefore I say that there are certainly some angels out there who in the disguise of genuine souls help us in making so many things just a smooth sail for us.
Don’t you agree?


I am sure you too have some such stories to share - do tell me about them :)

Hi... are you from India ?

Something happened today morning that makes me think again
-why do people try too seek cheap publicity in the name of God
-why do they wear the “Hi-are-you-from-India-too” mask and embarrass us “Indians”

I live in a private community where I consider safety and privacy as the most basic amenities. Around 1pm on a Saturday, I was freely moving around the house in my bath-robe, when someone knocked on my door- thinking it would be my room-mate, I just opened the door to see 2 strangers standing (which is not at all usual) I was obviously embarrassed a little, but thinking it must be something quick – I decided to just let them finish the work they had come for.
Apparently, they were from some Indian Association and had organized a street play to celebrate the festival of Janmashtmi (Lord Krishna’s birth)
To publicize this, they were apparently going through each name on the plates in the complex and picking out apartments with Indian names against them.
Also, the street play was scheduled to be performed in the swimming pool area of the community.

Now, I seriously doubt that the association (whoever they were) got or rather took permission to have a public event near the swimming pool. Considering a small gathering and a street-play style performance can easily be taken in the pretext of a small private party , which is “allowed “– the association people must have felt unnecessary to go through the right channels to seek permission to hold the event.

To go through every individual name listed in the complex directory, pick out the seemingly Indian ones and knock doors to publicize your event is utterly shameful. There are other inexpensive ways of publicizing your event – take print outs and ask the management of the community to distribute them along with the weekly community letter or simply drop pamphlets in the mailboxes of your short listed apartments.

You come to my apartment, knock and upon answering “ Hello – are you from India? “ and the hospitable people that we Indians are would never close the door on your face, so Inspite of being a bit awkward in my bath-robe and talking to 2 strange men, I did ask them if they would like a glass of water. And with a very brief introduction of the association they represented, I also realized that they did not even live in my community.
I was really enraged and tried hard to let that now show and rather be very polite. They started asking personal questions as in where I am originally from and then which part of Bombay (testing my patience now….) and then the main part – the association publicity….

Now I am a very big Krishna Bhakt and would really encourage such events taking place, so that we the Indian living away from the culture and tradition can get to learn and enjoy these festivals. But I would really appreciate, if rules are not broken , privacy is not breached and things are done using the right channels and hierarchy.

I just feel insecure because they could have been some impostors and using the Indian name and easily fool someone. Also I feel a little ashamed, because some people do not appreciate this uncalled visits of publicity and might go and complain to the management about this incident and tomorrow we might have the management sending us fliers that “Some Indian Association has been going around knocking doors and holding events without permission near the pool area – please BEWARE”

I don’t want that to happen … I really love my country and people and want us to be known for the good reasons…