tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36045135508902994492024-02-19T23:37:07.224-08:00A Brand New LifeThis blog by Meg is to record her musings on books, movies, food, travel and anything else that catches her fancy. This blog is a continuation of Meg's old blog http://musingsbymeg.blogspot.com/<br/>
By Meg, for Meg.Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09067094800081083110noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3604513550890299449.post-41834823873644301872008-03-18T00:37:00.000-07:002008-03-19T04:18:37.556-07:00Haircut on the Women’s Day<p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">The day before the Women’s Day brought a lot of goodies my way :-)</span><span lang="EN-US">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:0;"></span><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">Airtel sent me a free emergency charger and gave me 1000 free Airtel to Airtel minutes (Guys, don’t get jealous. Read the rest of the story ;-)). And even my company gifted me and other female employees vouchers to a local spa-cum-salon which entitled us to 50% discount on any service of our choice.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:0;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">Obviously, I was overjoyed that I could go the spa/salon without breaking my bank. I was anyways tired of my old hairstyle and the voucher allowed me to avail the services of hairstylists trained by Javed Habib.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>I quickly called up the spa-cum-salon and fixed an appointment for haircut, on the Women’s Day.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">On the appointed day and time, I marched into the salon and was pleased to find a swanky new big salon and smart-looking stylists attending to me.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Thousand times better than that cubbyhole of a beauty parlor in my neighborhood!!!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">“What would you like, ma’m”? One sweet voice asked.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>I declared I wanted a nice haircut with a new hairstyle. “Yes, please step this way, ma’m”, the owner of the sweet voice cleared a chair for me.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Once seated, I selected a hairstyle from a catalog, and then the stylist set to work. <span style="font-size:0;"></span>I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being pampered, my hair being shampooed, my scalp massaged, then the snip of scissors …I was almost lulled to sleep. I daydreamed of stepping out looking great with my new hairstyle, turning heads…..</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US">“Ma’m, would you like your hair this way?”, the sweet voice broke my reverie.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>I opened my eyes….Whoa! Who’s that horrible creature staring back at me from the mirror?<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Oh no! It’s me…whatever happened to my hair? Seemed somebody had given me an electric shock that made my hair stand up at the end.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Dismay soon gave way to rage. “This is not the style I wanted.”, I nearly shouted. “But ma’m, this one is better than the one you chose. Still, if you don’t like it, I’ll fix you the one you chose. I’ll have to snip your hair a little more from this side and that”, came back the smug answer from the still sweet voice.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>I took a look at the current state of my hair (very little of them remaining) and shuddered at the thought of further snipping.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Then I gulped, and took the hard decision: some hair, albeit badly cut, on my head is better than no hair. My words came out in half a sob, “No, I don’t want them snipped any further”.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>With a heavy heart I got up, paid my discounted bill (cursing the moment I decided to come here) and stepped out in the cold-hard world, which has ready to laugh at my misadventure and misfortune :-(</span><span lang="EN-US">. I went straight to home, and did not venture out for the whole weekend.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: normal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><span lang="EN-US" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%">Next Monday at workplace, I spied on some colleagues (mostly guys) laughing behind my back. But there was some consolation as well, as a couple of other “victims” came into sight. Now I am wearing a cap all the time, just like Himesh Reshamiya, and hoping that my hair grow back fast, so that I can visit the cubbyhole beauty parlor in the neighborhood and get a proper haircut.</span>Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09067094800081083110noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3604513550890299449.post-48140984195556515912008-02-22T03:11:00.000-08:002008-02-22T03:13:04.013-08:00Just got a raise!!!Yahooo!!!! Tididid-dididady-deMeghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09067094800081083110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3604513550890299449.post-49542852370037397432008-02-21T02:23:00.000-08:002008-02-21T02:25:12.589-08:00Of no fixed addressWhenever filling up any form, I come across the usual entry: <strong>Permanent Address</strong>. I always hesitate a bit before filling up this entry……which address should I provide? The address of my ancestral home in my native city….which I haven’t visited in many years? Or the address of my parent’s retirement home bought couple of years back, where I’ll perhaps never live? Do I really have a place to call my permanent address?<br /><br />Ever since I remember, I’ve never lived in a single place for a long time. When I was a child, my dad’s job with a nationalized bank and consequent transfers ensured that my family kept moving from one place to another at short intervals. If it was not from one town to another, then it was from one rented accommodation to another. <br /><br />When I grew up and finished school, I moved to another city and state to join university. After graduating, I enrolled for my PG in an institute in yet another city and state. Then I started working and continued moving from job to job and from city to city. <br /><br />My address changes every year…at times every few months. I don’t know whether I’d ever be able to stay put in a single place long enough to call it my permanent address. No, buying my own home is not a solution…or rather is an out-of-reach solution. Settling down in a relationship isn’t a solution either…there is no guarantee these days that relationship will last or the partner himself will not be moving frequently, for work or any other reason.<br /><br />Do I hate moving so frequently? Do I yearn for stability now? Not really… Maybe I’ve become used to it. At some point of time it stopped being an inconvenience and turned into a habit instead. That might explain why I like to visit far-flung places every year on holidays, why I fidget and can’t sit still in a place far too long.<br /><br /> So the problem of permanent address remains…..Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09067094800081083110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3604513550890299449.post-40809019579723928272008-02-11T04:36:00.000-08:002008-02-11T04:47:50.640-08:00Why this new blog?<span style="font-family:verdana;">About 4 years ago, I'd started a blog </span><a href="http://musingsbymeg.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Musings by Meg</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"> to record my thoughts on books, movies, food, travel and anything else that caught my fancy. Fortunately, a few people liked what I wrote and posted comments as well.<br /><br />Lots of things happened in my life after that, good as well as bad. Well, more bad things than good. And those things kept me too busy to be able to post on the blog, which I eventually forgot about.<br /><br />Now that I was ready to blog again and tried to restart my old blog </span><a href="http://musingsbymeg.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Musings by Meg</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">, I realized that I’d forgotten my login info as well. Good grief :-( !!!<br /><br />So I created this new blog, aptly name “A Brand New Life”, to start afresh but with the same theme and purpose as the old one. I hope people will like it the same way as the old blog. </span>Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09067094800081083110noreply@blogger.com0