The six yard wonder and me!

It happens every Friday morning. By the time the clock ticks to 9.30, my room looks like an island ravaged by a crazy dinosaur. The sight of blouses lying astray on the cot and sarees piled up in a corner gives my servant shivers as she enters to clean up my room. Even it doesn't spare me when I return back home in the evening, to a room that bore the brunt of my blouse hunt. 

Ahhh...the blouse hunt! Such a beautiful cliche'. Finding the blouse amidst the pile that was once your organised cupboard is no easy task. You have to wade through that olive green skirt, erst while snow white and now muddy snow brown turned antique inner wear, lehenga top, letters written by your friends two decades ago and your naphthalene scented bharatanatyam attire to reach the saree of the day. It always happens that your mind freezes on blue- this day you feel like having a blue coffee, wearing blue accessories, crave blue berry jam and even wish you could turn the entire household to electric blue. Only now luck has it that you can't spot that royal blue chanderi cotton you really want to flaunt that day.

You pull out the blue saree finally and along with it come down a meteor shower of blouses in varied colours and hues, except for the matching blue blouse. Now starts the treasure hunt. You look for clues. No, take deep breaths- inhale, exhale and stand before the mirror, trying to figure out when was the last time you wore it. Was it on second friday of the third month or third friday of the second month? You may even go the gym and be back alive, yet never repeat the same saree in six months time. So probably, the blouse must have been somewhere down under. Or rather did you send it to the dry cleaner and the fellow cheated you out of it? 

A cold sweat breaks up on your brow, as you rummage the cupboard, your hair dripping wet with water from the shower and the underarms wet with sweat. Did the thief steal your blouse? That four thousand rupees worth aari-work blouse with  beads and zari beckons you like a light house on a rainy day. As a tired sailor, you sail around your cupboard, still unable to trace it. By the time the third rack is emptied and its contents scattered on the floor, the blouse behaves and decides to stop the hide and seek, showing up under the heavy benares saree. You heave a sigh of relief...and then starts step 2 of Project Saree, pulling it around your torso.

Always remember- the blouse has a mind of its own. It is a free thinker, no less than Socrates and Aristotle. You can never tame it like a wild tiger. You have to whisper sweet nothings, coo softly and blend your body into it. You have to hold your breath to button it up and if you just blow your breath somewhere in between, poof...both the sides go out straight to your back. You have to call it again. It is the Leonopteryx that only the Na'vi can tame. If you are successful  in taming the widening blouse, you can very well be the Neytiri of Pandora! Once you complete the buttoning process, next is the toughest part- tying the saree.

The six yard wonder blinds you- literally with the bling. It can put Bappi Lahiri's chains to shame with the thousands of sequins attached to it. The higher the bling factor, the pricier it gets. Operation Four Folds starts now, trying to fold the pallu into four with equal distance and placing it on the shoulder, you have to do all the circus with your right hand and left hand placed together. It needs a bucketful of perspiration and half a dozen safety pins to hold the saree in place and by the time you are thinking you are ready, you find the top most fold too lose to your liking. The process starts again...Ufffff...the saree....But the moment you step out of the house, this is one dress that gives you poise, dignity and grace. All this struggle to look graceful and you rock, indeed!

Graceful...ain't it? :P

p.s.: I think I have been ignoring this page and I am truly deeply sorry for that, cloud nine

p.p.s.: I am loving Sushma Swaraj Ji. She is definitely one kind lady- anyone got visa applications or passport blacklisted, do appraise her. The lady has a heart of gold, I say!

p.p.p.s.:  AP Government has started levying taxes for street lights. What an idea Sirji! Keep going and tax those fellas for the oxygen they breathe :P