My first mard-ko-dard-nahi-hota Pedicure

Translation: My first boys-don't-cry Pedicure
On 23rd evening, I was in two minds: whether to think of Bubu's present(it was his birthday next day and I had not decided on what I was going to gift him yet) or to get myself a pedicure.
Remembering how my professor once explained of losing her toe nail to bacteria (or maybe fungus, don't remember) after dirt got stuck inside the nail for a long time, I decided to give myself a nice cleaning up.

I called up my neighbourhood spa, Cleopatra(Ah, what name!) and asked if they could accommodate me in their busy schedule. They agreed. Sylvia (name changed to protect identity) attended me to a plush chair with a wash basin on the floor. I'd be honest, it wasn't my first time, but since my last pedicure was way before the Nuclear deal had surfaced the news channels, I found myself re-virginised to the entire experience.

The procedure began with the usual nail clipping and then something to do with a thing she named a filer.
Quite erry, I decided to use my "This' my first time, please be a bit gentle" line, she obliged saying something in a chinky accent I didn't quite understand(I'm not racist, its just the way the mongoloids speak). She repeated again, this time more clearly, "Sir, you have in-grown nails, it might cause you some discomfort cleaning the interiors", and she started digging in. Now, being from the adam's family, one has to keep his calm and act as if nothing can give you enough pain to make you cry like a blonde lady, or so has been taught to us by the society since childhood. So I kept myself appearing normal, which was more excruciating than the pain itself.

She finally ended her excavation with a cream, cuticle removing and hot water dip, later followed by a foot massage and surprisingly, it did take away all the tension off my feet. They looked fresh and smelled great, which my dog appreciated too, by licking them all over!!
With my nails still feeling like I just clipped them, even after 3 days since that agonising pedicure happened, I have pledged to myself on never depending on anybody to clip my nails. You could have tears drop down your eyes while getting stitches from a doctor, you can't give away any clue you're feeling hurt from a pedicure!!

The long.. long trip!

After writing the last post on 21st morning, at exactly 3:40 am IST Bubu messages, "r u up?", I replied, and he called me to google on certain destinations.
By 5 am, we had rescheduled our entire plan, on the day we were supposed to leave on our pre-planned 7 days' trip. Now we'd be on a 18 days' trip visiting 4 states and 9 destinations, as against 3 states and 4 destinations. So we started our journey with Bubu's liver hurting and both of us sleepy from Bandra station for Delhi. (Refer map!)


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The ride on Garib Rath is not worth describing, our "sense of humour" is! It did attract a few people on-board, but somewhere between Kota and Bharatpur, Bubu and I had a spat over a stupid issue. And we both thought to ourselves, its just the first day! Anyway, we reached Delhi 2 hours late next day, with eyes hurting from staying awake for the last 51 hours(18+2 hours journey included).

After savouring all the Cholé-Bhaturé, Roshan da Falooda, Aloo tikki, Chandni Chowk, Dilli da hard water and hot weather for 3 days, we left for Jaipur on 25th.
It took us 6 hours, two bad stomachs and a banana to reach Jaipur after which we were desperately looking for good, hygienic food. Since we had heard a lot about Hotel Mansingh in Jaipur, and considering the fact that its one of the finest hotels in India (with a few stars), we assumed the buffet table would be as rich as Marriott's in Mumbai. Hungry, and to our surprise, the hotel didn't even have clean dishes, all the vegetable dishes had only two vegetables, beans and carrots all over and the only eggless desserts we could find were "Assorted Indian sweets". We were disgusted that we were to pay Rs. 990+Taxes per person for something so sub-standard. But seeing the Royal blood of Jaipur compliment the chef for his "excellence" at the other table, Bubu stood up, asked for the Manager and gave him a piece of his mind.

Our next stop in Jaipur the day after was Radha-Govindji and Radha-Damodar, Jantar Mantar and authentic Rajasthani food. Jaipur, in all was a delight, especially Govindji Mandir, which made my eyes go watery for a reason only known to me.

We bid Jaipur goodbye that night and left for Udaipur from where we were to catch a bus to Nathdwara, the land of Shreenathji's. Once there, we came to know of the amazing Maha-prasad offered to Krishna that can be bought outside the temple gates every day at throw-away prices . We relished the prasad made from pure ghee/devotion. The two days' pleasant stay at Nathdwara made us more active and enthusiastic for the rest of the trip, because coming next was Vrindavan, Bubu's real Home(spiritually) which I was looking forward to too. So, we went back to Udaipur and got on a train for Mathura. All excited(in a very indescribable way), we reached Mathura Jn. early morning next day and headed for Vrindavan immidiately.

Though I was a bit too tempted to click pictures of the beautiful town, with rich history about Radha-Krishna and the brilliant aarti ceremony at Iskcon (not to forget the most beautiful deity of Radharani I saw in my life), but on Bubu's strict commands, I didn't do so. "Let Vrindavan remain in Vrindavan". The visit to Radha Kund and Aindra Prabhu's Kirtan was heart-filling, and when the day had come to leave for Delhi, we only wished we had planned on spending some more time in Vrindavan.

We reached Delhi on 1st July (2.5 hours drive from Mathura), and went back to the same hotel with cheap rooms as we were there barely for 12 hours and had to catch a train 6:30 next morning for Puri. Jagannath Rath Yatra was our focus.
By that time, both of us had grown home-sick and weren't willing to commute the 30 something hours all the way to Bhubaneshwar and then take a bus to Puri, later back to Mumbai again commuting 30 something hours train journey again. But, we still packed our bags, paid good tip to the concierge(if I can use that word for the cheap hotel boys there) and left for New Delhi station.

"Puri Express 6:30am CANCELLED"

Bubu: "What?"
Me: "This can't be happening."
Bubu: "Go ask the Enquiry counter what we're supposed to do now...... or else, lets just go back to Bombay."
Me: "No, Wait, let me check."

The Enquiry counter later informed us the train was cancelled 3-4 days ago and the entire money would be refunded.
Content, we left for the airport, happy(and surprised that we were happy), only to realise the clothes we wore weren't very appropriate for an air travel, so we stopped our auto rickshaw, got a few good clothes out and somewhere between PVR and Central Park, started changing into them in the middle of the roads of Delhi.
"LETS GO"

We took a direct flight back to Mumbai, where we can survive without Chandni Chowk, Narula's, Cholé bhaturé or the "assorted Indian sweets", and the green autos without their fare-meters working. We found ourselves a bit attached to the trip but thought maybe God cut short our trip for our best interest, even though we really wanted to see the Rath yatra. I still wish to go back to Vrindavan sometime soon, its on Bubu now, if he would ever plan on his next trip with me.