I know what you did last summer!

Has there been any incident where you have been ashamed of yourself? Ashamed beyond measure? All you wanted was to hide under the table or even disappear into thin air? Or turn back time to just before that sorry happening? Or even thought "how the hell did I let this happen? what on earth was I thinking?!.. I'm not like this!"? Ugh, imagine my horror when I did exactly this last week. And heaped all that embarrassment on my otherwise untainted soul because of a compelling conversation with the Devil's advocate followed by a very unthoughtful, brash action.

Swimming is my current passion as my earlier passion - running - has been temporarily taken away from me. I was frequenting this really convenient gym right across the street from office. So lunch hours were happily spent front crawling, stroking free style under water, dead floating or even teaching myself new techniques. Sometimes, I would go the gym with Ms. X (she's a good friend and a regular member of the same gym unlike moi, a provisional member). Usually, I was the only one in the pool at lunch times; so it was like a personal swimming pool, my own jacuzzi, sauna etc. Okay, you get the point; the gym, the location, the times, the free towel, an ocassional swim buddy - everything was just perfect.

And then just before the new year, my 6 week subscription ended. Since everything was working out so well, I decided to take up another similar membership. Now, their 6 week membership is an online exclusive offer where you have to pay the fee online and thus absolve the gym folks from doing any of the paperwork which is otherwise involved in the higher duration 6 months or 1 year contracts. All you then do is take those printouts to them where they will issue you with a temporary member pass. No photo, no fancy swipe card et al.

I made up my gym bag the following night, all enthusiastic about the prospects of re-joining the gym and hence continuing my lunch swim routine for another month and a half. Next morning, when I was just about to log on to the Gym website to pay the fee, I excitedly mentioned to X that I am taking another temporary membership, so we should plan and co-ordinate our gym times. X was glad to hear that and then suddenly she had a brain wave. As I would come to know later, it was only down hill from there.

X was about to go on a long leave of 6-8 weeks and she, being the good samaritan, offered me the use of her gym membership in her absence. So basically I pay nothing and still get to use the gym facilities daily. A pretty damning proposition! A part of me leapt to the idea, the other part hesitated. Wow, it cant get any better! My conscience swung into motion. That's wrong, of course.

Hey wait! Dont the gym guys know her already? Doesnt her gym swipe card have her mugshot? Living under constant fear of being found out, seeing red in every trainer's move - naah, this was certainly not a doable stunt on a daily basis for the next 45 days of my life! But X assured me that the gym folks can not make out one Indian girl from the other (ah, and I thought that was the prerogative of Sardarjees and Chinese!) Plus we have been to the gym together many times. So they wouldnt know who's who anyway. Also she has never given them her photo and nor have they asked her to pose for one. In fact her swipe card was not a photo ID. What if they have surreptitiously clicked one? Oh, in that case she would sue them for they are legally wrong!

The more I argued and reasoned with her, the more I was slipping away onto The Dark Side. Then X had another brain wave. How about trying out this stunt only for today? That way we can find it out for ourselves. Hmm. Now that was doable. Plus I had got my gym apparel with me anyway, so away I went, but not before practising X's signature (if prodded by the gym folks), memorizing her address, her birth date etc. Ah, a novice, but a thorough one!

2 mins and 50 steps later, I arrived at the Gym reception. My heart was pounding so loudly, I reckon the passerbys would have heard it! I confidently strode into the swipe area, wished the receptionist (my luck - the coarse & wicked Club Manager was manning it of all people!), swiped the card, collected my towel and was just about to slide away from his view, when the unthinkable happened. Mr.Wicked blurted "hey that's not your card!". My heart leapt. It was already doing a 300mph. Oh no, this is not happening. How can he know that? They dont have her photo. Just stay calm. It will pass. Then I started shooting from the hip.

Me (sounding really surprised but looking uncomfortable): Oh is it? Must've got exchanged with my friend. We usually come here together, you see.

Mr. Wicked: Oh that's not a problem. What's your name? I'll check it through my system.

Me (swallowing a lump in my throat): The surname's Bravo-Hotel-India-Delta-Echo.

Mr.W(typing again): Ah, I cant find that in the system. Are you not a permanent member?

Me (my legs are giving away at this point): Oh I have a 6 week membership.

Mr.W (his eyes are sparkling): Oh, that's why I cant see you in the system. But not a problem, we keep a separate register for the temporary ones. Let me check you in there.

I want to run away. I want to be anywhere on the face of this earth, but stand in the Gym reception in front of Mr.X hunting feverishly through his logs for my name.

Mr. W (looks like he found me in the temp register): Ah, arent you Sandy? Your subscription expired on 28th Dec. Plus you never had a swipe card like that. Remember, we gave you a small paper card with your name and expiry date written on it?

I am shrinking every millisecond.

Me (thinking honesty is the best policy, mumbling) Ya I know. My friend suggested that I try out her card for today. But anyway I'll get myself a new subscription online and come back. Sorry for that.

Mr.W: Ya I know, this is so embarrassing both for you and me, Sandy. You obviously knew and were still trying to sneak in. Return that card to your friend and tell her if she does it again, I'll have her membership permanently terminated.

I rush out of the gym with a rightly battered morale. Suddenly the 50 step walk to office seems so long. I feel like a common place thug who's felony has just been detected and worse, someone else will always hold the moral high ground. Sigh, the only thought that occupies me is how on earth did I let my morals just blow off like that or even stoop so low to commit such a cheap stunt.

No prizes for guessing I returned to office and straightaway logged on to buy my new membership! I returned to the gym after a couple of hours, with my head held high, and the online paperwork. Mr.W's shift must've ended by then, as some other receptionist made my new temporary card for another 6 weeks.

The next day however when I strode into the gym, chin up, Mr.W was astonished to see me (again!) He looked at me with those 'I-know-what-you-did-last-summer' looks while I flashed my new temporary card in his face. While he was eyeing it suspiciously, I filled him in on yesterday's details and apologised again for that temporary lapse of sanity on my part. All is well between us now. He knows me by my first name now and does not check my card when I saunter into the gym, as he is aware that it is valid till 1st week of March.

The fact remains, I am scarred for life. Am terribly glad I am scarred for life. So much for retribution!

Of Lists and Tick marks

list (n.) A series of names, words, or other items written, printed, or imagined one after the other.

Now, there are various ways in which you can split the entire world into – land and water, men and women, young and old, honest and dishonest, developed and under-developed, fatsos and skinnies, winners and losers, hunters and hunted, light and dark, us and them, good and evil, heck even Made-in-China and not Made-in-China and so on. However, in my opinion, the entire world is divided into two distinct sections - those who create lists and those who don’t.

Well, I claim ignorance about you, but I am officially besotted with creating lists. A list for everything and everything in a list. Welcome to the structured way of life. Write it on a piece of paper, remove it from your system RAM and do the task only when it needs to be done. No need for expensive stress buster therapies at a later point in life. Not sure how the non-list-creating populace keep innumerable things in their head (unless they have an elephantine memory). Surely they must be forgetting some things altogether. Even slipping on tasks or brushing some under the carpet.

I am sure most people are into the habit of making grocery shopping lists (to remind the husband to buy soy sauce too along with the tissues and spinach and 157 other things), but I have not seen many extending this concept into other areas of their life. How about things-to-do-for-weekend list, the weekly lunch planner, the never-forget-another-birthday list, the elaborate-affair-of-a-gala-dinner list, the things-to-do-before-you-die list, the eateries-to-visit list, the books-lent list, the dues-to-pay list, the songs-to-download wishlist et al?

I like to think that the real list-o-maniac prefers the real handwritten lists to the virtual excelsheets. Though you can sort and do all sorts of things with the excelsheets, the satisfaction, the euphoric feeling that you get on completing a task and putting that all-important physical tick in the box on a real list is divine. And if you are smitten like I am, you can sometimes finish the tasks first, add them to the list and and then promptly tick it off. Now that's what I call a real indulgence.

Well, I am delighted that I have completed and published this blog post. Now excuse me please, I have a task to tick off.

What rhymes with fat?

What rhymes with 'fat'?! Of course I know what you would say - bat, cat, hat, mat, pat, rat, sat etc. Well, I mean, for what rhyme (or reason) could God have created this unnecessary and absolutely non-essential thing?

I find it disconcerting to think that the same Omniscient who created potatoes, weaved the possibility of humans finding a life-altering fluid called oil, threw in the prospect of these two being combined to create the super delightful 'french fries', could conjure up something so wickedly dreary called 'fat' that it would need to be avoided by large (both literally and figuratively) sections of the society!

Now that's not a very equal God, eh?

Which is your favourite?

I am usually a very blissful person. Anybody who knows me can vouch that I do not exactly fit into 'Man, The Thinker' shoes. I am not contemplative or introspective, not argumentative or critical, not opinionated or overtly analytical. I cant spend too much of my life scrutinizing and worrying about this or that - I do my best for the desired outcome and it usually works out well.

So I was very surprised when I found myself mulling over a ridiculously simple question that I got asked during the weekend. Not just plain thinking, I was thinking real hard. It consumed my mind for some time before I slept and also after it. The question was - which is your favourite perfume?

Now that is a very innocuous question. Something that most of the perfume-happy mankind (oh, have they changed it to personkind now?!) can answer in a jiffy. After all, it is your favourite - something you dig, something that makes you not just happy, but the happiest - the supreme feeling. And imagine the enquirer's (lets just call him Mr.Twister) surprise when I had multiple answers to what was clearly not a multiple choice question.

Now let me tell you something about Mr. Twister. He is razor-sharp, energetic and engaging. Can be somewhat aggressive at times, but has an amazing clarity of thought and an abundant capacity for dialogues. And oh, how can I forget, he is extremely clever with words.

So while Mr Twister questioned and cross-questioned and grilled and interrogated and probed me, my mind blanked out. Tried deliberating again and again. No answer to Mr.Twister's satisfaction. I felt dumb. Big time! I felt run over too, but that's secondary. The problem was I couldnt come up with ONE answer. How could I not! That kept me occupied long after our conversation had ended.

There is absolutely no problem in NOT having favourites, but I was kinda stumped as to why I could not answer the absence of one, especially in the perfume world which I know considerably well. I am aware of the ones that I have used. And I have already set my mind on which ones to buy next. In my humble opinion, that would have sufficed; but it clearly looks like you need to aggregate your thoughts (a la data warehousing), make a list of 'likes' in descending order and store it in some part of the brain ready in anticipation of a question like this!

Then realization struck (later of course). I have never bought the same perfume twice! Buying something over and over would automatically classify it as a favourite and I have never done it before. It is not because I hadnt liked the fragrances. It was simply because I like experimenting. My philosophy is simple - I hunt, I like, I buy. But never ever the same perfume twice. Why waste money on something that you've already tried. As simple as that. Which translates into - all the 20-25 brands that I have used till date are either all winners or there is none.

Well, the perfume talks ended amicably and are now behind us. And I am looking forward to spending more time with Mr. Twister and his tad-acerbic-tad-comic wit in the near future. Of all the exciting outcomes that will happen because of it, I am sure of one - it will make me start thinking about things that I have never thought needed thinking!

Now, is that good or bad?