Blogging Challenge Day 2  with bloggers in arms, little cousin Soumya at and friend Sushmita at

I was clearing my cupboard this morning…

The skulled kurti
The skulled kurti

And found this…

Did I really buy this? When? Where? Why? How? A number of questions flashed in my mind. (reporting skills most often come to use in non-reporting situations!)

I wouldn’t be seen dead in something like this… so how did it land up in my wardrobe?

Then I remembered… It came from the set of kurtas/kurtis I had bought during my last vacation in Cochin. I had bought around 10 from one single shop (Yes, I’m boring that way!) and somehow had picked up this one too… Or it would have been:

# I was feeling particularly murderous after one of the pesky relatives again asked, “You are in the Gulf for so many years, you must be earning pot loads, no?”

# I wanted to finally learn how to cross the road from the apartment to the bus-stop and this would have helped (if I had only been smart enough to buy red!) as I sought my brother’s help everytime for this simple act.

# I did not wear my glasses (yes again)…

# After this, I was off to the great Blossoms book sale (Rs. 70 for a No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency copy and that’s not even 500 baisas. Boo to you, Borders Express!) and so was absent-minded… (Anyway, nothing can beat the absent-mindedness of adding Surf Excel to the curry instead of salt and that’s another story for another time!)

# The shopkeeper who noticed that I was a non-fussy shopper (I am. I usually just try on one piece and then go on picking the others like they were fresh bhindi at the vegetable market. No, difference, no???) and just added it to the pile. Wait, I’ve been had! And I realise that after six months!

And so now that I have the skulls & flowers kurti that I wouldn’t be seen dead in (wait, I already said that, but what the heck, it’s emphasis that matters as my sixth-grade teachers Ms. Naomi would say!) what do I do with it…

# Perhaps I’d wear it to a ‘cool’ rock concert and yell, ‘Yo’ and all that… But I don’t like rock and I am in Muscat. The closest I can get to rocking it will be at the Rahat Fateh Ali Khan concert tomorrow. And I don’t think I’ll be able to get away with it… even if dil toh bachcha hai ji!

# I know what I will do. I will wear it to the next PTA meeting and scare the always-complaining teachers out of their wits. Wait till they say, “Oh, your son is a nice boy… he talks too much!” Daggers-drawn, anyone?

# Intimidate those marketing types who have no clue as to what constitutes editorial. First I will patiently say, “No… you don’t have to pay to be interviewed. No… we can’t carry an advertorial on bath tubs. No… no… no… no kids’ party photos! If ‘no’ doesn’t work, I’d make multiple copies of this kurti and wear to all places where said ‘types’ are present.

# I’d supervise a kids’ event by wearing this over orange or red pants. And I’d use the same dialogue, the HMT PR lady used many, many years ago at an elocution competition, “Beneath the feather glove is an iron fist,” (See, so much useless trivia lodged in my brain, since 1992!) I’d probably improvise, “I have a thick skull to match my bellowing vocal chords…”

So if you have something, you wouldn’t be seen dead in… care for some, ahem, ideas?


7 thoughts on “Look what I found…

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