Missing : Tasneem Songerwala

Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart !

I was 17 when I 1st stepped out of my colony.

Everything outside BARC walls fascinated me. I was that guy who 1stly never had friends and when I did I did not hang out with them much. I avoided going in crowd. I found everyone my age to be mean or may be I was ultra sensitive. I very well fit the introvert description and certainly was a bit bitter to have had no friends. I just couldn't trust anyone forget about opening up.

But this story is about that stunningly beautiful lady with a more beautiful heart who turned out to be a strong and trustworthy anchor to my wandering teenage soul. It was a turning point in my life.

( May 2005 ) One afternoon early to the class I sat inside the Air-Conditioned admins office when I saw her walk in. She looked no ordinary. A diva in every sense. I died and reached the sweet haven when she turned around and asked others looking at me - Who is this young gentlemen. I almost peed in my pants. If it qualifies then that was our 1st interaction ever.

I'm Tasneem Songerwala, I'm your aviation instructor'' she introduced herself with a heart melting smile as our jaws dropped. I remember she had worn a pista green slim fit formal shirt and a formal brown knee length skirt with a belt. She had a glamorous existence and she knew it very well.
I was sitting on the corner seat smiling ear to ear because Ms.Magical was now going to be my instructor for next one year.
I left no opportunity to impress her and soon I was her blue eyed boy. Everyone in the class envied me.
14 years of flying experience and travelling the world oozed out in every small gesture of hers. She talked flirtatiously and we never had a dull moment in her class. What made Tasneem Ma'am strike a cord with all the students was her sense of humour that would have us rolling on the floor. My favourite would be her inflight stories.

Once she asked Hanika to leave the classroom because both of us couldn't stop laughing and I, she clearly knew was at fault. Moments like this reaffirmed that I was indeed her favourite, very clearly.

She managed to make me believe that I wasn't an outcast. The introvert in me was dying and she understood me like noone else ever did outside my family. At home I was a tiger but now there was a strong need to be accepted by the outside world. So when she came along I surrendered. I was awestruck but now I respected her more for seeing the real me inside.

Half way through the year came a sudden halt to this journey. She announced her exit from the academy. She was leaving India for good. Almost all of us cried the day she broke the news. This was the 1st time I saw her sad and soon she was gone. I wasn't prepared for it. I was hurt and somehow felt left out all over again.

Years went by and I missed her more every passing year. Wondering if she remembered me. I wanted to share so much with her. But she had vanished without a trace.

(2008) Years later I saw her at Mumbai domestic airport. Ofcourse where else could I have possibly met her. I was in uniform. It was exactly how I wanted her to see me. With every stride I walked faster. As I came closer I realized it wasn't her. A little disappointed I moved ahead with a big smile. It didn't matter if it wasn't her just her thought left me feeling so positive and rejuvenated for the rest of my life.

Once I troubled her to an extreme that I kept sending her voice-mails because she wouldn't  pick up my phone. I also remember how she failed me in a presentation because I assumed she would never fail me. But she did. It was 26th July 2005.

When my friends say missing someone is so painful I correct them and say missing someone is the most beautiful feeling. It can only get you smiling.

Tasneem ma'am lives in my heart and I'm sure one day I'll meet her in person too. For now half my prayers are answered. How ?

One fine day last year (2011) something unbelievable happened. I got a Facebook request from her. I smiled I cried I smiled again. It was a surreal experience to see her again, virtually though. I think she took time to recollect my face. But then that also makes me think if I added her on Facebook. Guess the excitement left me with no memory of the actual. I had my folks right behind me with their chin on both my shoulders looking at her snaps. Finally they had a face to the name Tasneem Ma'am.

(August 2012) 17 to 24 and she is my most favorite person on earth. A part of my peronality when you meet me still and will always reflect her. A lot of me today wouldn't have been there if I never knew her. I still trouble her with my side of stories and the connection just seems exactly how it was in 2005.

It's beautiful how some people walk into your life out of nowhere and leave such a big impact. From being introvert to not so introvert now I have come a very long way. It was Tasneem Songerwala for me, my angel. Do you have someone like her in your life too ?

La Casita, Calangute, Goa

We chose to stay at La Casita, Calangute. The pictures online suggested a grande affair at reasonable rates. Upon arrival we realized the heaters didn't work and soon the electricity supply shut. They did not even have their own  power inverter. All the rooms were still being cleaned and took almost 2hours to be readied. The walls in my room were stained and it smelled nasty. The towels were worn out and furniture broken. When confronted to the manager - Priscilla she said she had no idea what the agent Cris had spoken to us. Keeping our cool we ignored that the hot plate didn't work properly, and even the few available appliances were rusted and dirty.

Next day a we rented a Gypsy that broke down on our way back from Curlies. Priscilla told us about the snag in the car after we had reached our destination so it didn't make sense quitting the whole  fun halfway and the car hadn't yet given any problem yet until we were to leave. We could have taken a cab to hotel and abandoned the Gypsy. But we stayed waiting for help from La Casita. Till 2.30 all of us including 4 girls were in the middle of no where.


When finally the help came it was Prisciallas husband fuming at us to have made him move his butt so late at night. La Casita does know how to make their guest come back again and again to them.
She did pay part of money to us but didn't leave an opportunity to come across not so guest friendly. So much in a country where we say ATITHI DEVO BHAVA. But this is in Sanskrit. Konkani anyone ???
Goa has so many hotel to choose from. So now u know which to NOT go to.

Hotel - La Casita
Location - Calangute
Rate - Rs.2,500/night 2BHK ( off season )
Review - Skip it
Manager - Priscilla
Agent - Cris

''I made out with her 2years back''- said a coocoo

''I made out with her 2years back''- said a coocoo.  My jaws dropped in disbelief. Would I even trust an acquaintance who talks about my friend. I don't think so. Give me solid facts to start to even pay attention. One thing I know for sure is I'm not going to confirm this with my friend ever. Because I accept that truth has many versions and I leave it to that.

But what if I were to believe this male brag I-fucked-that-pussy really happened. But then I would only be doing so to get even with her. Go live your life I don't care. I'm a person who would not divulge every aspect of my life too. The reason being - Fear. Fear of many kind.

In 2010 when I quit my job I was in serious grip of fear. If I stayed with the job I would be stuck forever. And if I leave I might not have another job. For some quitting a difficult relationship is too hard. There is fear no. 1 - If I stay I would never be content. Fear no. 2 - After this if I don't get anyone. Fear makes us take worst decisions. We often end up making weakest decisions under fear.

''Some losses feel devastating when we experience them and sometimes, the gain isn't proportionate to the loss. But somehow, we survive in the wake of most every storm. Whether we thrive is up to us. That's a choice we need to make proactively, not in response to what we fear, but in response to what we genuinely want.'' - Tiny Buddha

So must have been some kind of fear in her to have shied away from discussing. Fear does kill lot of great existence. I feared losing out on great relationships so I did not say some truths. But then I see the point here as what went wrong when  I feared in front of some that had limitation of understanding. So I shall not re-do what I had faced. I shall extend -  trust.  Why ?? Because  I'm a survivor of fear.

Pervs

           

How uncomfortable women feel in local bus when men drop their eyeballs in their cleavage or when men try to put their gun on their shoulder to shoot. This is just a part of how horny Indian men get on the go. All in a country where we boast of being oh-so-shy about sex. It's almost like it doesn't exist. So, God actually drop babies when mama dada are fast asleep. It's true It's true. So much we trash Sunny Leone, Rakhi Sawant for their ''boldness'' and then ban telecast of Dirty Picture too. Lame. After all its India. Here kids, teenager know nothing about sex. Let me say it again - It's true It's true NOT.

Sex is a part of our life. And if it doesn't interest us us Indians then  we need to ASK THE SEXPERT.  No wonder we come across EXOTIC to westerners. After all so unbelievable we portray ourselves . Common now lets stop pretending or stop groping each other in public. Choose one.
Its simple, the more you suppress it the more curiosity. I wouldn't blame anyone, not even two straight men, going berserk over rubbing each other in a crowded bus or train (I excuse parties, it always with consent there, mostly).
We are sex starved, PERIOD ! Next time notice the number of head turn when a girl walks in. HOT or NOT. I swear I think its totally normal. But why that frown by the middle aged men, when you guys checking out anyway. Accept it. See now that's the problem. Better was the judge of that contest ( which I was part of ) who openly called the then-yet-to-be-winner in his car for a night over.

Let me talk specifically about my favorite city in the world and my home - Mumbai. We live in tiny houses. We haven't heard of privacy and space at all. The family eats sleeps and watches TV together. Indian values at its best. Right ? No. We are at limitation of space.  Life here in this city leaves us with no time. So sex is forgotten or simply slides down to the last thing in the priority list and venting out those urges becomes next to impossible at home. The only breathing time to look around for us becomes commuting in bus or train. Traffic here makes our 5mins journey 50mins, so what do we do with all the hotness available around in a crowded closed bus or train ? ummm ...I remember Daler Mehndi's song to describe this one - Mein Kardi Rub Rub Kardi.

Hanika was scratched on her shoulder by two boys on a fast bike. Another friend who complained how she couldn't get down a crowded bus without being groped. A rickshaw driver tries to take advantage of a foreign nationality. The heaped up sexual urges comes out in a very violent ways that hurt woman emotionally or/and physically. Why women, even I face model coordinators time and again. Okay now stop making up your mind about my profession. Sigh !

Like all other emotions sex exists. It's like hurt, suppressing it leads to mental trauma. Often suicide. Likewise works the sexual urge.Why does moral police disagree. We stop our daughters to step out in the evenings, to do overnights or simply to go on trips with friends. What are we scared of ? They might end up having sex ? Might get molested or be taken advantage of ? Well, this all can happen anytime and anywhere. So instead build a rapport of trust. Better ?
And the rest can go on putting down JISM 2 posters. And jerk off in their washroom remembering all that they saw at Sunnyleone.Com.
So much we pretend in a sex starved country like ours. Time to face it. Boo !