I had always hoped love would be forever... but then i've loved thrice so far... each time its had its failings... Twice I've picked up the pieces.... moved on.... stiching the bits of my heart I managed to salvage...

Here's a couple of things I've learnt along the way. Opinions, points of view, observations all my own:

1.) Like the men I fall for are all intelligent and good looking. But men with issues. Somehow I realise they have issues yet I fall for them. Yea, not very intelligent am I?

2.) With every relationship I decide I'm never going to let the man be the center of my existence. And then I go do just that. One word to describe me? It's cupid ... stupid.. Oops that's a sentence.. who cares its my blog.

3.) Every time I see a relationship end. In my mind the song "It must have been love but its' over now" plays in repeat mode. Why? Who knows? Some mental closure exercise I guess.

4.) Both of my ex's I tried to be friends with. First one got married to some poor chick and fathered a child. Why? Coz the boyfriend he was doting on after dumping me and the next man in line, cheated on him. That's when I stopped talking to him. Ironically he moved to the city where the 2nd ex lives. He, who I never realised how dependent he was on me till he went into depression and almost killed himself. After I moved back to India that is. I couldnt go back to him. My mother was about to die. She who had borne me, raised me, lived for me, held me back. The 2nd ex stopped talking to me.

5.) I realise that post number 1 I react to anyone attempting to woo me (sexually, emotionally) through a rather predictable curve. First I look past them, then if they persist, lustily indulge them, and finally go head over heels. I think I lost number 3 somewhere in stage one after I withdrew into my shell post a good night's .. how should I put it... passion?.. that's a good word... Now two years on I'm trying desperately to work my way back into a heart where I once was testily considering moving into...

6.) Running out of things to write... guess I wasn't as deep as I thought I was : ) .. and number 3 beckons distractingly...msn here i come

PLEASE, NO THANKS...

I was in Delhi recently and heard of a school for kids below the age of two... where they'll be taught.. get this.. how to say hello, please, thank you and ask their mothers politely for food! Made me wonder what their parents were doing?.. My parents never needed a school to teach me manners... My mother knew how to keep us in line... First a few words... and then any slip-ups would meet the smack of her hand... Did the job quite well.. thank you!

I mean what sort of parents pay other people to teach their kids how to behave? Parents who obviously didn't learn their manners right. Parents who perhaps were left to their own devices as kids and learnt them the hard way. But nothing wrong learning things the hard way. In fact me thinks you remember those lessons even better.

Like the time my 6th standard teacher told my class not to enter the classroom during lunch hour and disturb her. One of classmates had forgotten his ball in the classroom and was fretting over how to get it out. I, being the naive moron that I was, thought I would play the hero, come to their resuce. After all the teacher would'nt punish me if I apologised and was polite about it. I went in asked the teacher, she said sure go ahead take the ball and then come and kneel next to my desk for the rest of the break.

I learnt two lessons there. a) Listen to what you're told to (b) Being polite and marking your manners does'nt always help.

But coming back to the begining of my ramayan. I heard about it from my friend Smriti who's son is just about beginging to stand. She had taken him for a b'day party where she met all these mothers who were talking about this place 'little gabriel' ... Apparently the place to be if ur 18 months and belong to a certain social set... I asked her what this social set was... The social set she replied of parents who are using their children to acquiant themselves with social mores... that hardly come from a lalaji sitting behind a galla in chandini chowk...