inconsequensial annonymity...or however it is spelt

And just like that

2011-02-10T10:25:00.003+05:30

While endlessly wandering in the back alleys of the Internet, I stumbled upon this picture today. And just like that, I wanted to write. Not particularly about the picture, not particularly about the over dramatic futility of it, not particularly about anything. Just write. You know, scribble words, then see if they can stick around to become a sentence, and then see where that takes me.

It took me till a second paragraph, the question, as always, is what now?

Her

2010-08-16T13:34:00.003+05:30

There is something intrinsically beautiful about dried flowers. Like photographs. They remind us of some beauty we once experienced, the memory of which still lingers, like the musty fragrance of a dried petal.

Which is why she never had the soul to throw away the flowers she received. She liked to preserve them, leave them, scattered in through the intermittent pages of books. So that someday, she turns a page, and is unexpectedly faced with a yesterday.

She said she hated it when people got her flowers. Perhaps, it was the burden of that carefully preserved memory that tired her. Perhaps, she lied. Perhaps, this ping-pong game of today and yesterday is what kept her locked in her own head. Perhaps, she just didn't want what she thought she wanted.

As the tea goes cold...

2010-07-08T14:01:00.000+05:30

It irked her no end that people did not have time to talk anymore. Not the usual whining about work, kids and beyond, not the "discussions" on all things important, but just good, old fashioned, while-you-have-other-important-things-that-can-wait-or-go-to-hell talk. Like that time in college, where she and that friend who always made her laugh snuck out of that very boring class of the pretty teacher, and sat by the football field to ogle at Wasim Akram lookalikes. Or that time, when that friend and she sat on the steps of her then house and discussed life and love. She was in her night clothes and the friend was in a tee and a towel, but the fact that they were out, at 3.30 in the morning, sharing emotional gossip both of them pretended not to care for, gave her a sneaky sense of gladness. Then there was that time, when she fell asleep, as her tears dried on the shoulders of that friend, the one who never ceased to bring immense calm into her always chaotic life.

One day, she hopes to set a table for two, pull out some old, chipped mugs, that hold more memories than tea in them. And she hopes, those friends will come and talk to her again.

Ephifunnies

2010-04-29T18:51:00.009+05:30

They say that in the deepest moments of our solitude, is where epiphanies lie. But then there are some of us, who just find comfort in solitude, not wisdom. Certainly, not clarity. Being alone is perhaps over-rated, but then so is surrounding ourselves with people. Maybe it is all about finding the balance. Gah! What a perfectly boring paragraph.

One cannot understand why one get into these ridiculous moods where one wants to ponder on the nature of life, the universe and the precise timing of the next door neighbour's pressure cooker whistle (which is perfectly synchronized with the other neighbor's unholy barking bout [yes, the said neighbour is canine] every morning). One is perfectly happy with one's natural state of ignorance for most part of the year, and then comes one of "those days" where fancies oneself as unrealised potential and feels slightly guilty about not waking and (ab)using one's prodigious but largely dormant genius.

Sigh! One feels like one is in one of those confusing before-and-after type commercials, that being with being black and white and deary and then suddenly become loud and colourful. Only in one's case there are fewer hot people to look at.

Fridays, what does one do with them?

Whispers

2010-03-21T22:42:00.002+05:30

Once upon a time, she met a secret in a corner. She didn't know what to do with it, so she carried it with her everywhere. Then one day, it threatened to consume her from inside. So she took a chance, and whispered the secret to a dead tree. The tree spoke to the wind, and the wind blurted it out to the mountain over evening tea. The mountain told it to the river in jest, and the river ran to tell the pebble...so that when she met the pebble next, the pebble called her the evil one, and accused her of stealing his spirit away.

She has been scared of secrets since then.

Look Mommy! No Goosbumps!

2010-01-29T12:21:00.011+05:30

So, by now one is guessing pretty much everyone in this country has seen Zoom's new version of Mile Sur Mera Tumhara and hated it. Everyone, with a TV or access to cable television, and time to care that is. A lot of lucky people one knows, just gave the whole hoopla a miss. But then, a good number of these lucky people would give life a miss, if they could (one is always amazed how a lot of people can go through life in a somnolent haze, it's a marvel of the modern times. Or not). Anyways, one digresses from one's original rant about the horror of epic proportions that the Times of India Group so creatively called "Phir Mile Sur".

One really feels bad for Rahul Gandhi at this point. The video pretty much has every progeny that made big by carrying daddy's glorious name to further heights, and our man, the poster boy for dynasty politics, was left out. The video was so horribly wrong in so many different ways, one does not really see why Times could not have gone ahead and have had him also.

Perhaps, for most of us, who grew up around the late 80s-early 90s the new version is so hard to digest because we associate a certain part of our early life with the original song. Less than a month ago, one spent a happy evening with Gee, looking up all these DD things--Mile Sur Mera Tumhara video, the Baje Sargam song, the ek-chidiya bit, and that Pyar ki Ganga Bahe song and on and on--on YouTube and feeling elated. It was like looking at old albums (the ones that have photographs, and not songs in them)...you kind of remember not just the photos, but how you once were. It's like finding an old faded pieces of yourself.

As a kid one considered oneself very patriotic--one was the kind who passionately delivered speeches for every other Republic Day and Independence Day assembly in school, who meant every word of her "Why I love India" type essays etc etc. One remembers once when one was in 3rd standard, how upset one was because one could not get hold of a tiny paper flag to pin up to one's shirt pocket. One sincerely believed that this was part of the I-day protocol, and one will be considered a second-grade citizen for not having one. one almost felt guilty eating the free laddoo they'd distributed at school...one had to earn that, and without wearing one's patriotism on one's pocket (not sleeve), one certainly had not.

For that kid, Mile Sur meant something. One honestly believed in the whole idea of unity in diversity, one believed that India did indeed have one voice. Even though, growing up, one learns the hard way that along with Santa Clause and Maveli and the Abominable Snowman, a lot of these theories and feelings are just myth and gas, but then there is that child-alter of yours who wants to hold on to them still. Which is why, you still hope for some joy and wine for Christmas and stay up till 3 in the morning to make a pookalam the day before onam. Which is why when you hear Mile Sur Mera Tumhara after some 15 odd years, and see those hundreds of children dressed in green, white and saffron running ahead, you still get goosebumps. And which exactly why, you will hate the new version so much (one WILL NOT call it Phir Mile Sur, unless one is aiming for sarcasm, which right now, one is not).

The new version just pulled the ugly reality which was lurking at the back of your head, and shove it right in your face. It will tell you, that, "Ha! There is NO real India" --not one that belongs to the "real people" anyways. What was then was a media myth, what is today, is also a media myth, only a less romantic one. The "real India" today, has movie stars (and stars, not necessarily actors) as their social idols, has your surname for your ticket to succeed. The "real India" does not care if you work namelessly to train the rural illiterate to harness solar energy, you will still need Shilpa Shetty in a see-through saree to get you in the frame.

The old version still could fit 3 major actors of their time together in one 5 second frame, the new one, each actor needed his own airtime, his own frame, even his own tune. The only people who agreed to share screen space were the children (or were they only the "charity projects"?) and the defense personnel at the end.

So is one surprised? Honestly, no. But one is angry. Because one would have wanted to hold on to one's delusions a bit longer. Because one would still prefer goosebumps to retching disgust.

(If you haven't already, you must, must read Krish Ashok here . Actually, you must, MUST read him here first. Go. NOW.

Gween!

2010-01-22T17:23:00.004+05:30

My favourite colour is green.

Just so that you know.

And by you, I mean me.

Gween :)

Stream of Unconsciousness

2009-12-22T10:53:00.003+05:30

Where do lost dreams go? Do they slowly melt into nothingness, or do they, like prayers, keep traveling around the world? One likes to think they are like free souls, they wander till they can find a new being to latch on to. May be that is why we all have the same dreams. May be that is why we all have strange dreams.

It is that time of the year again...when one takes stock of one's life and then refuses to decide if one likes what one sees or not. Resolutions are a thing of past, one gave up making them long ago. You see, resolutions demand some pretence of action and effort. One prefers to dream, and hope...one can always pass on the responsibility of those to fate, or Providence or parents or partners or the company or the next-door-neighbor. Anything to shrug responsibility, anything at all.

One is always overcome by a tinge of inexplicable sadness on New Year's eve. If one is alone, that is the gripe--the disgust and loathing with/at felt at the thought of ringing in the New Year (with a capital N and a capital Y) with bad television. If one is with a bunch of friends, it is always the problem of whom to hug and wish first, if to hug and wish anyone at all. Why do we make a big deal of it anyways? It's not like anything is going to change just because we change a digit or two in the dateline. One still has to go back to work Monday morning.

New beginnings are such a myth. Or maybe it's just the wannabe cynic in one talking. And here one was, thinking one was the optimist. Maybe one is. (Or maybe like everyone else, one is just confused)

2010 should be fun still. One will have a new sister-in-law to look forward to. The now extended family should be fun. One also has the time to be spend at home running around for a much-looked forward to wedding of the much-loved (and the only) brother--which one thinks is an excellent excellent way of beginning any year. However, there is also the cringe-inducing parading of self as the "next-in-line" thing. And middle-aged aunties pulling cheek and saying "now that your line is clear, we should not wait any longer to get you married" thing. Ah well. Collateral damages. One might as well pretend to have made one's peace with it.

One is guessing the next year should give one ample topics to write about. One can almost see a book title "Attempts to Get One Married and Other Horror Stories". Maybe one should start approaching publishers. If one is going to suffer, might as well make some money out of it.

One is hoping to put more posts in 2009 still, so one will defer wishing one's dwindling readership a happy new year (referring to one's readership as dwindling, gives one the false reassurance that one had a substantial readership to begin with. Ah, there is comfort in denial yet).

This and That

2009-10-31T19:58:00.004+05:30

I miss blogging. So much that I think I am beginning to make a conscious effort to get back to writing. I miss those friends I made here. I miss the comfort of writing. I miss the joy in the realisation that I have been read.

I don't know how many times and with how many friends I have debated the purpose and pointlessness in blogging. I think we blog for the same reason that we get into relationships, or get married--because we simply want to share some tiny part of our lives with others. Not because our life has been great or consequential to the world and the grand scheme of things, but because our life has been lived. We want someone to be our witness, someone to acknowledge that we existed, that we lived. And when we cease to be, we want our life to be validated in that memory of us that is stored in the other's mind.

Perhaps, it is that validation that I miss.

Complications Aj Kal

2009-08-13T13:51:00.007+05:30

Yeah yeah, so you guessed it, I am going to be talking about Love Aj Kal. Eventually.

Meanwhile...life has been, well...lifey. It's all been wonderfully busy and banal that I don't find a single thing to sit down and blog about. Unless you count out my newly acquired obsessive compulsive need to play Typing Maniac on Facebook at least 17 times a day. For a person who can neither spell nor type, it is amazing why I would even like the thing, let alone be pathologically addicted to it (in case my employers see this, the previous line is inserted only and only for its comic value, and is really no where near the truth. I have excellent typing skills and my spelling powers are what give Oxford English Dictionary so many sleepless nights).

But well, life as an almost grown up does weird things to you. And I have had to be horribly grown up the last few days. I even get back from work and cook dinner. Please to be noted, I said COOK. Not eat, not order, COOK. But the frugal life of a single working woman does come with some perks. Access to fast internet, for starters. Weekend movies for another. And if you still have a little bit of Culture Studies hangover, the inability to watch a film without being able to analyze it to bits. Even though the last one is not much of a perk.

It was with this baggage that I watched Love Aj Kal. As movies go, I think I have seen worse. It was not a bad film, in fact it has got all the ingredients for a minor multiplex hit--hot looking leads, who play characters with cool jobs and inconsequential families, and a no-frills take on ~~love~~ relationships. So, then what? Then it is the same old, same old. The meet, they make out, they go their separate ways, and then discover that their happy place is in each others arms, thus reaching the bottomline, “ one true love theory: hence proved”. Finis. Everyone goes home happy.

After watching Love Aj Kal, we (me and the fellow boarders of the house) went ahead to watch Socha Na Tha. It was after that that the AHA! Moment hit. I like Imtiaz Ali films, they are smart, classy and very urban. And with the exception of Jab We Met has these enlightened females patiently waiting for the guy to grow up and realise that they are in love. Nice, but that is not what the aforementioned AHA moment is about. One could almost argue that they are not moralistic. But there, lies the subtlety of the man (The man in question being Imtiaz Ali. Try to keep up, will you?). It is in the realisation that he is not really breaking new ground, or saying new things in his films. He is, in fact, only selling very old wine in newer bottles (This adage is essentially meaningless, you realise that? How is that a bad thing for the buyers, if someone is selling old wine in new bottles? Doesn’t wine get better with age? So shouldn’t old wine in new bottles be a steal? But before you accuse me of digressing...)

Look at Socha Nah Tha...it's a film about essentially nothing--at the end of the day, Viren and Aditi go through all that trouble, confusion and Goa trips, for what? So that they can get married to exactly the same person that their families originally wanted them to get married to. So with Jab We Met. The dadaji says the kids are in love, and in love the kids are finally. And then we have Jai and Meera, the latest caricatures of Love 2.0, the modern age man/boy and woman/girl. They are smart, sexy and very career oriented. But eventually they decide to that love and marriage is after all what matters, careers be dammed. The film began and ended at the same place...they spilt because their work did not allow them to be in the same country. At the end of the film they walk away hand in hand into tall grass, but what about the bridges half-built in San Fransisco and frescoes half dusted in Old Delhi? Collateral damage of true love, I guess.

So as Gee summed up in her usual lucid fashion, our man Imtiaz Ali is only a more intelligent version of Karan Johar. But given that Karan Johar makes considerably more money than Imtiaz Ali, the word I'd use is probably subtle. Either ways, his films are funner. And much easier on the eye ;)

Between the two of us

2009-07-02T00:16:00.003+05:30

"You know this won't work. This thing, between us. I love you, but it won't work"

"Stop repeating the same thing. I know it won't work. I know there is no future for us, and yes, I know that both of us have too much baggage. But you know what? That still does not change anything for me. I love you. I don't have anything to do with your past, and I know I can have no part of your future. But what we have today, I want that to be mine. Is that asking for too much?"

---

"Listen...we have to talk..."

"You are leaving"

"Yes"

"But why? I told you I forgave you! You cheated on me, but I still forgave you. I took you back, and now..."

"That's just it! You forgave me. You didn't get angry, you didn't shout. You cried your quite tears, and then decided to forgive me. I can't live with that. I can't look into your eyes and see all that hurt and broken trust...if I stay, it will drive me insane"

"You saw the hurt and broken trust...but apparently you can't see the love that is still there"

"That's the problem, I will never feel whole again"

---

"This has to stop"

"I know"

"We can't keep doing this, to us, to the people who love us. They, at least, deserve better."

"But what about us? Don't we deserve to live this love?"

"We should have thought of that 2 years ago...before we got married"

"But I still love you"

"I know. But we can't keep meeting once a year like this for the sex and the realization of how incomplete and broken our lives really are. We are now parts of two different wholes..."

"I wish..."

"Yeah...so do I."

---

"So you've made up your mind about this"

"Yes. I have"

"But why him?"

"Because I see a future with him, damn it!"

"Yeah, a future. Something you never saw with me"

"We've been through this before. I like you. I really do. I may even be in love with you. But we'll never work out. We're too alike, too unstable"

"Yeah, and that similarity was enough to give us one night, but not half a chance at a lifetime together, huh?"

"There are other things--things like, stability, like balance, compatibility..."

"Yeah...fuck that too."

---

I wanted to write this as a he-said-she-said kind of a thing, but when I actually started writing, it made more sense this way. This, in a very rudimentary and crude way, is my first attempt at fiction. While there may be liberal influence of reality (and not always just my reality), no one thing is based on any one real event. Any inference or similarity, may or may not be intentional, but will always remain anonymous ;)

You may now proceed to pass judgment. Or leave comment. Or not. Whatever. (appears not to care by whistling to nothingness in a nonchalant-ish fashion, while hiding her crossed fingers underneath her table)

WYSIWYG

2009-06-28T18:34:00.004+05:30

There are days, and there are days. Every once in a while there are also moments. And when they happen, things begin to happen. One decides to end it once and for all. If one were in the ages before Bill Gates and Google, one would pick up the pen and write. But these days one just opens one's laptop and blogs.

Sigh. Such is life. But then, such life is the good life.

There is hope for this world. Yet.

From the Pages of a Long Lost Book

2009-04-10T20:29:00.005+05:30

It is curious how one thing can remind you of something completely unrelated--something that is from a different world all together. In the train today, suddenly we passed this stretch where they were burning weeds. The smell of smoke brought back the once-familiar smell of cashew nuts roasting. When we were kids, ma's tharavadu was this veritable haven of everyday wonders--of delightful sights and smells of unadulterated village life that held endless fascination for us city kids.

We would watch enchanted as our grand uncles, the formidable men of the house, would build the fire and toss the cashew nuts in heaps into its crackling goodness. This, of course, was done with great panache of seasoned showmen for the benefit of us impressionable kids. We would then watch enchanted, as the cashew nuts, with which we used to play a caroms till the day before, crackled and spluttered in the fire.

Occasionally, one of the more "grown-up" and hence, more adventurous, amongst us kids would dare thrown a small log into the fire, to be immediately chastised by the real grow-ups. But the immediate increase in respect and popularity amongst us lesser (and younger) mortals made it worth the mild reprimand.

The smell that rose from the fire--a heady mixture of smoke, cashew nuts, and a combination of firewood and dry leaves--was made more palpable with the collective excitement of us kids. And just about when we are about to lose our heads to the smell, someone in the grown-up party will declare that the cashews are just about done. The fire, if it was not breathing its last already, is killed.

And then begins the part that was my favourite in the grand ritual: cracking the nut, and of course, eating it. It used to be so much fun to watch the mighty men of the house go squirm squirm-twitch-twitch-and-jump trying to hold the hot cashews, while trying to get the outer (and now burnt) shell-like skin out, and get to the nicely roasted nutty bit inside. (This, of course, even the most adventurous amongst the kids never tried. The hot embers looked mean enough for all of us to stay away!). The whole house would smell of roasted cashews, and happiness.

Smells are such funny things. They are always lurking around the dark corners of your mind, waiting to jump at you at delightfully unexpected moments with equally unexpected memories. And I'm so glad :)

Conversations

2009-02-16T11:18:00.004+05:30

Don't you wish sometimes that you could dive into the depths of yourself and pull out that self that you once were? Become that stranger that you once used to be? So that all your todays are as your yesterdays, and your yesterdays are as today?

Or perhaps, you wonder if you have such depths to pull yourself out from. Wonder that if you try and dive into it, you will only realise the shallowness that is inside of you. Is that so bad--this lack of distance between the surface and the self? The skin-deep being the only presence and nothing else that is real?

Aren't memories a twisted trick that our mind plays on us? Or perhaps it is only to protect us from our own past selves. It is easy to remember yesterday fondly. To think of our past as a long lost friend, with whom we lost touch with somewhere. Someone you can bump into at a curious bend, and feel a surge of happiness, a rush that comes from meeting our once lost self.

Do you wonder? Or perhaps you are so rooted in the details of everyday that you don't have the time for such flights of whimsical imagination. Perhaps, you like to think you live in the reality of today. Perhaps you even believe that there is a reality of today.

What does that make me in your eyes? And what does that make you?

Yappy New Year :)

2009-01-10T13:11:00.002+05:30

It's been so long since I wrote something, it ceases to be funny. I wonder what is it about life that overwhelms us so much that we forget to indulge in those simple things things that give us so much joy. Writing perhaps is one of those few pure pleasures in my life. And, somehow, since the past few months, that also seems to have taken a back seat.

To the list of new year resolutions that I made, I thought I should add writing more too. But then I didn't because I didn't want to reduce writing to something that I have to "plan" to do. It should be something that comes to me, something that I do for the sheer pleasure it.

Conversations

2008-11-26T18:07:00.003+05:30

The mornings are of purple skies streaked with crimson. They smell of cinnamon and coffee. And of course, of love. One wants likes to think that being whimsical is what one does best. It is when one is happiest.

Complicating Conversation

2008-10-21T23:20:00.004+05:30

All of humankind's efforts, everything that we do, is directly or indirectly to escape death--to somehow live beyond the time given for us to occupy this physical space. I understand that this idea is neither original, nor very revolutionary, neither particularly enlightening, but here it is.

We want to be remembered-by someone, for something, after we cease to be. So we raise children, so that someone will carry our names, and our genes, and some broken part of us even when we are dead. We make friends, we marry, and we shun a solitary life, because we want somebody to be our witness-someone to see, and remember that we once were like so. We revere our dead, insist that we show them respect, and in some spaces, even pray to them, their death being qualifier enough for this reverence.

All media is there today because of this one primitive need of humankind-everything- TV, newspapers, radio, cinema, blogs- are in someway or the other ensuring that humankind is not forgotten. They all work to enforce this myth of immortality that we seemingly have achieved.

So we build elaborate discourses on how much we have progressed, how much distance we have covered since human memory stabilized. We are less concerned with where this distance covered leads us to, but we are hoping that it wouldn't be something as banal as extinction. The problem is, that we can only hope.

Minutes of Madness

2008-10-03T01:40:00.005+05:30

If I write a message in a tired parchment,
and leave it in a bottle,
will you ever find it, and then,
take me back through the road that leads to today?

If I whisper into the storm,
will you leave a lantern out,
and keep the fire shining
with conversations half-finished?

And if I never say a thing,
will you still assume,
that I still don't care?

And if I scream,
will you ever hear,
the silence that is all around me?

And if you read this,
will you think,
that I'm drunk again?

Life' s a Neurotic Bitch With OCD Issues

2008-09-26T12:02:00.002+05:30

Okay. Here's the deal. I'm tired of whining. I'm tired of complaining that nothing is going right. Well, it isn't but heck, life's gotta be a bitch once in a while to feel nice about itself. Sure things are bad, sure people are idiots, sure things could be better, but things will be the way they will be, and people will come around, and see sense, sooner or later.

I have three assignments to submit beginning of next week, each of which require me to read up at least some 500 pages of stuff, and I have not even started. So what am I doing about it? Reading comics online, and blogging. Man, I can't complain now, can I?

This campus can get to your nerves real bad, but I figured I'm stuck here for another six months, so might as well accept the bloody place and move on with my happiness. So I'm taking Lash's advice [I'll probably live to regret admitting this, but well!]

Even if that light at the end of the tunnel is a train, it means end of the darkness, one way or the other. So.

I'm back to sarcasm and permanent poke-fun-at-others-so-that-you-can-feel-nice-about-self bitchiness.

Just so that you know. Cheers!

I'm Not Back From the Dead. Yet...

2008-09-14T12:02:00.001+05:30

I'm writing after some 4 odd months. That's the longest I have not written since I got this blog going. Sheesh. This feels so weird...not getting back to writing, that's the only thing that has ever been normal for me, but this whole can't write-won't write thing.

It has been one of the weirdest four months of my life. I was at home for three months between May and July. Came back to campus beginning of August, and it has been one thing after the other.

I'm not sure I have ever felt this...I don't even know what to call this feeling...disturbed? unhappy? I wouldn't really call it sad, because there is no sorrow to speak of...only this perpetual lack of joy. And since I always considered myself an essential optimist, these past few weeks, were I guess particularly difficult. I often complained of being stuck in a kind of limbo where nothing much happens...the past few weeks has been just the opposite. There has been LOTS that's happening, everyday there is something new.

So I should be happy right? Then why am I so deeply not? Maybe because even with all this happening, there hardly has been anything to look forward to...the there-is-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel-but-it's-a-train kind of situation. Only it doesn't sound so funny, when it actually happens to you.

Try as I might, I cannot like this place, with pseudo-liberal, pseudo-modern atmosphere. As an academic space, this is perhaps the most double-faced environment that I can imagine. But then, maybe all academic spaces are like that? But it still does not cease to amaze me how people can say one thing, while meaning something completely different. Guess what I miss is a certain purity of purpose.

I know what my more "academically inclined" friends would tell me now. That there is nothing called purity of purpose. That it is just a romantic construct, that is at best wishful and at worst delusional. Somehow, I still cannot quite agree. Maybe it is that optimist-at-heart thing again.

The long and short of it has been that I cannot imagine the last time I was truly happy, or the last time I laughed a wholehearted, carefree laugh, or the last time I felt honest, or true.

It's murky. It all murky. And I'm stuck right at the center of it.

O Woebegoneness

2008-05-22T13:09:00.003+05:30

Apprarently it is standard practice (is that ce or se?) that something that looks like the real thing has to follow once you send teasers out. Why is that no one ever tells me all this stuff? Makes me wonder if I bunked the "standard practices in life at large" class in school to go off and catch some a-rated movie on the sly. Considering that I was one of those sad kids who never bunked a class in school *[nope, not to watch an a-rated movie, not even to watch a {insert your favourite letter here}-rated movie], this makes me wonder if I ever suffered from a brief case of MPD in my childhood. Be the case as it may, thanks to my most recent ex-roomie, I now stand with full knowledge of the teaser-related-standard-proceedures of life.

Now that I have finished my catchy, hook-the-reader-so-that-sHe-thinks-the-post-might-be-interesting kind of introduction, let move on. So, about this post. This is about, surprise, surprise, the little un-appreciated joys of life. Yeah. Right.

Anyway, ever tried returning to sqaure one? No, not finding yourself in it accidently as you go about your merry ways, but being half-pushed, half walking-in yourself into that 2/2 inch space, where your thoughts freeze and your brain, which was till now buzzing like the ladies compartment of a crowded Mumbai local train, suddenly goes into this weird like of white vaccum where the only perceptible sound is that of the dust covered fan turning? If you ever have, then you, my friend, will be nodding your head in sympathy for me, as I say that this is where I'm - in sqare one. For the sake of prudence on wire, I shall leave the glorious details for later.

Anyway [I know I started my last para with the exact same word, but indulge me for a bit here, will you?], when you're starved for some entertainment to feed that voraciously hungry mind, imagine how grateful you feel towards God for giving you politicians, and of course, 24/7 media channels.

Here's what has been sustanence, for the last few days:

The whole deal with judges holidaying in exhotic locales, with wife and kid to tow, all on tax-payers money, is suddenly the latest breaking news. So when CNN-IBN asked Union Law Minister H R Bhardwaj to give his valuable comment on this, the good Minister, who of course saw nothing wrong with the practice, says, [And I qouth CNN-IBN, who quoth the Minister]

"How can you deprive the wife? You are a woman. You should understand"

Can you beat that for an argurment? In front of such restounding display for sparkling logic, I feel humbled.

And Then...
The New Indian Express, Cochin, ran this "Worst Minsiter" contest to give some very valuable feedback to the champions in the Kerala State Assembly [and of course, to provide the tax evading junta to have a free go at the very same people whom they elected]. Not very surprisingly, the Education Minister, M.A.Baby won. But the real scoop came from elsewhere--from Mr. G. Sudhakaran, the Corporation Minister, who did not take it kindly that he came only third in the contest. So this venerable gentleman retorted, that when George Bush, with his inspired brilliance and might could not scare him, Goenka's paper with its measly bunch of "coolie writers" stands no chance. And since our minister is all of 5 years old, he's also added that the Consumerfed website [which is under his department] would publish a list of worst performing journalists in the state. Oh boy! I'll sure be holding my breath for THAT one!

And finally...

IPL seems to be turning into the mother of all gossip churners. The lastest is the accusations of racism, as two Kings XI cheerleeders were sent back for their skin colour. They were apparently told that the Indian public "do not like dark-skinned girls". Naturally, everyone is outraged. "Racist? Us??? We, the campions of equality, who invented tolerance, racist? How could you? Wasn't it our Gandhi who fought agaist apartheid in South Africa? Didn't our Shilpa Shetty forgive the bad bad people of Big Brother's House, who said nasty nasty thing to her? How can you ever call us racist? We can't even spell rasist!"

People, accept it. We are racist. Yes, we are. We SO are. Of course we are racist. We are castist, sexist too. Look at the number of serials that go on about the dark-skinned sister who can never get married, or the advertisment budgets of Fair and Lovely, and Fair and Handsome, or the matrimonial columns which still have people looking for "fair-skinned, convent educated, homley girls". So please, don't you tell me that we are not sexist, castist, or racist. I use Fair and Lovely too.

*I've decided that I do not really like the normal brackets, and shall be using square and curly henceforth. In case I forget that I don't like normal brackets, you my readers, yes, all 4 for you, are to remind me.

And then suddenly...

2008-05-18T18:24:00.004+05:30

cough!phat!splutter!splutter!

a blogger comes up for air. takes in a huge gulp, fills her lungs, and then...

goes down under (back)water(s) again.

watch this space. carefully. very carefully.

If I Traded It All...

2008-03-30T09:29:00.004+05:30

Him: Didn't see you at the bday party
me: was wrestling with an assignment
=/
still am
Him: won or lost?
me: the battle's stil on...
the tragedy of my life is that i cannot work unless it is the 11th hour
and what's worse, i even wait for 11.55 to start
Him: Join the bandwagon!
=D
me: seems like i'm joining too many of them
yesterday it was the league of failure psychotherapy patients
today, it is the cronic last minute maniacs
i think i need to stop, introspect, and then decide that its all a play of maya, and go to himalayas to meditate
Him: Well, you have to take the most favourite thing along and abandon it there!
=D
Ready for the deal? That is how they do it
me: hmmmm
for that i'll have to make up my mind about what my favourite thing is
Him: true true
what is it, if I may ask?
me: i cant even decide if my fav colour is, earthy brown, olive green or the grey of rain clouds, u expect me to know what my fav thing is???!

When one is bowed down by assignments, and a sneaking suspicion that one has a suppressed masochistic alter that is threatening to come out, straining at the tight chords of self importance fueled by years of inane education and an insipid life, these conversations at 3.30 in the morning make perfect sense. In fact, they are sustenance.

But when one reflected on the question at a saner hour in the day, and with an insaner state of existence, one realized the depth of that seemingly innocent question.

"Well, you have to take the most favourite thing along and abandon it there! Ready for the deal?"

Is one ready to give up one's favourite thing as a price of calm in a cold wilderness? But then, what IS one's favourite thing? The first picture that comes is one's parents...but one already compromised their love and their dreams for one, so that one could pursue a career that one loved, and they mistrusted. So that career then? But then, one suddenly realises that one has compromised one's career so that one could do what one's parents wanted...no, that is putting it harshly...one decided to walk on the bridge's edge...choosing to risk a hurtle down to that colourless abyss, at a single mis-step than take the safe path to compromised life. So then, what is one's favourite thing?

When one was a kid, someone one asked, what is the one thing that you'd take if you were to go to a different planet to live. Without much hesitation, one answered one's diary. But then came the rain that flooded the memories and washed away all the episodes of one's recorded life and one wondered if that was a sign. So one "set the Polaroids afire, and burnt half one's brain". So what now?

Sigh. The funny thing about life is, the most difficult questions are the most simplest ones. Your favourite thing...one is asked that question all the time, one answers that question all the time...but does one really, truly ever know for sure? What is one's favourite thing...that thing that one would die for, maybe even kill for. What is the one thing that one won't trade?

Then one realised...

If one had that kind of self-realisation, one wouldn't have to go to himalayas then. If one had all the answers, one wouldn't be alive. There would be nothing to live for

So is one ready for the deal...no, not yet. One still has to chose between rain clouds and soap bubbles...

Shadows on the River

2008-03-06T21:51:00.004+05:30

Words, spoken, and never taken back
Half finished sentences
Unkept promises
Tears, stuck in the throat
Eyes, looking, searching, understanding
Seeing...and then really seeing...
Shadows
Figures, in the dark side of light.
Clouds, rain clouds
Water, splashing on unsure toes
Soap bubbles, laughter
Hands, palms wide open
Wind between my fingers
Freedom...

Is That A Bad Thing?

2008-02-05T21:18:00.000+05:30

What is about the vaccume that gets to us? Why are we so scrared of voids? Of silences? Why is there such a premium of living a full life? What if your life is half empty? What if it is all empty, except for one glorious momment of sheer exhilaration? Is that one momment enough to redeem a half lived life? Will it make it full, complete?

I've been harping about this sneaking emptyness in my life for a while. I can't point to what is missing, but I know that somewhere, something is. The day I think I have that figured, I'm sure I'll find that there is something else that is missing. It's like this endless puzzle, this maze, that changes every other minute.

So I bury myself in work. I read till I can't keep my eyes open anymore, so that I don't have to face those nagging fears that always surface while I wait for sleep to take over. Then I have weird, broken dreams, that leave me with this strange sense of dissatisfaction when I wake up.

Happiness, said a friend once, is the easiest thing in the world. And I believed him then. I still do. But contentment? I'm not sure. They say you should have a purpose. I have one. And a good one. I have no big dreams of changing the world, I don't agonise over matters much larger than me, over which I have no control. I don't make very unreasonable demands. But I refuse to compromise. I HATE that word. If there is something that can be better, I think it should be. And so, contentment is something that does not last for me.

It's very simple, when you look at it like that. I live in a constant "what next" mode. Somehow I think I've alway lived in the furture. So much so, that the present never seems good enough. Is that a bad thing? I wish I could be sure.

What did I mean to say? What did I end up saying? There seems to be this void between those two points. Is that a bad thing?

Why this cluttered post? Because something told me to react to this.

Christmas, Kerala, Fate et al

2007-12-17T16:57:00.000+05:30

This is supposed to be the most literate state in the country. This is also the state where every kid is expected to become an engineer. Then why, pray, why, does one have to travel by bus/rick or car (if one's dad is willing to be generous and give one a lift) for fifteen minutes to find a cyber cafe, that charges an atrocious 40 bucks an hour for painfully slow internet access?? One has already established that it is a cruel world that one lives in. But one wonders what one must have done in one's previous birth to warrant such a fate--that after having persuaded one's father to be generous, one travels for that aforsaid fifteen minutes, and waits in the cyber cafe for another ten minutes and then tries to open the word doc that one had saved in a cd (because one's pen drive has been busted thanks to the virus colonies that inhabit one's university computers, one finds that the painfully slow computer is refusing to read the cd for some unfathomable reason. Sigh! Now one is thoroughly depressed. When one is on a holiday, happily gainly pounds that one will later regret eating all the yummy food that one's mother is grudgingly making, that is indeed a sad state to be.

But one takes heart, and resolves not to lose faith. Instead, one is painfully re-typing the entire post, hoping one'e readers(all 3 of them) will appreciate the toil one took. So here is the thrid installment of the much popular and critically acclaimed(one does have a sense of humour) U-Know-U-Are-In-Kerala-When-series

Even after all these years, this place still doesn’t stop amusing me. Well, this time around since I am here for one long month, (which is the longest I’ve been here since I left Kerala nearly eight years back) and since I’ve done some heavy travelling, here are a few more things to add to my now pretty strong list of what makes this place a piece of work.

The previous post in the newly born trilogy here and here.

U know U are in Kerala Yet Again When...

Most new houses will be painted in varying shades of peach on the outside. I’m not sure if there is a scientific or religious basis for this curious affinity for this particular colour. Or is it just that they think it matches with the fake tiles painted on the roof? Older houses still experimented with double colours-yellow and green, yellow and blue, yellow and brown. Equally funny is the way they use those one sided mirrors for the windows that face the front of the house. The point being??

While we are on the subject of paint and houses, people do not believe in re-painting the house since its construction and the moving in, no matter how many rains fall since. The only reason someone will give their weather-beaten walls a new coat of paint is when they are planning to sell, or when there’s a marriage scheduled in the house. To be sure, when we visited some relatives recently, my uncle saw the newly painted walls and exclaimed, “Wonder why they got the house painted, I thought all his children were married!”

Largest and the most frequent billboards on the road are of two categories: silk saree showrooms (Kalyan Silks, Asia’s largest silk saree showroom!) or gold jewellery (Allapad, house of gold, or Bhima gold, Pure Gold!).

You don’t see a single woman who’s attire will have even a hint of nonchalance or carelessness. Mallu women do not, just do not know what it is to dress casually. Their sarees will be all draped with sever neatness, the pallu pleated and pinned up. No casually throwing their duppattas for them, even that will be neatly folded and pinned up. (I cannot for the life of me manage a duppatta with half the primness and ease that these girls manage, and I hate pinning it all up, ‘cause I end up tearing it, so I’m all awe!)

There are no roads. Mostly they are potholes strung together with some tar. Even the most used, and big ones are at best a jigsaw of patch work strung together. Considering it’s a state that prefers road over rail any day, wonder why the roads are not any better. Not that good roads do not exist. They do, till the next monsoon.

You realise that the traffic authorities and the PWD are not only extremely concerned about your safety on the road, but also have a sense of humour. And thus are born the extremely entertaining words of friendly warning on the road-side signboards. The good old, “Speed thrills but kills” and “Don’t drink and drive” are passé, they are now making way for new age entertainment, for instance, “Overtakers beware of undertakers” “Better to be late than be the late”. My favourite? “Speed has five letters. So has death.” I kid you not, this was an actual signboard by the road. I’m sure most of these accidents happen because the drivers were banging their head on the steering wheel with laughter and hence didn’t see the bus coming right at them! Seriously!!

For some unfathomable reason there are HUGE furniture “Showrooms” (I think after coconut and umbrella, “showroom” is the most favourite word of Malayalees) on the highway. On our way back from Thrichur to Kottayam, we drove for over an hour looking for a decent place to eat (meaning a place that actually serves food, and not beer, and some chow to go with it). We had tough luck finding a restaurant, but saw nearly 4 furniture shops. How they expect to break even, let alone make profit in the middle of nowhere be way beyond my meagre understanding of the Malayalee psyche.

You ask for directions on the road and you get not only the accurate directions, but also how many kilometers away the place is, and how long it will take you to get there given your driving skills! Honestly, you don't need road signs, people are quit enough.

With that, I think I'm going to give this series a rest. I've never really been good with list anyways. The good folks at Merc think that lists are a desperate effort by humans to make order out of chaos. Since I've always made desperate efforts to keep any sembelence of order OUT of my life, I think its good. So, hope you enjoy this last edition of this trilogy.

Toodles, and Merry Christmas folks!

For the Sheer Non-Dual Joy of Non-Sense

2007-11-27T01:13:00.000+05:30

I feel compelled to write. I dunno if this the call from the higher order random crappiness or sheer lack of sleep, I feel this annoying itch to write.

Readers kindly note, that the itch is to write. NOT to make sense. So if you are expecting profoundness here, thou art to be grossly dissappointed and annoyingly bored.

I feel I need to make a case for being zonked. It's a good state of being. I mean, you can walk around bumping into radom stuff that pops up on the road, like trees for instance, and not feel stupid. When you've been running on coffee and denial for two weeks, that's a darn good state of being.

Now I feel accomplished that I managed to write five lines of absolute non-sense. You may now move to find worthier stuff to waste your time with.

The itch, my friend, now stands scratched.

Love in the Time of Assignment

2007-11-14T12:41:00.000+05:30

I never thought this could happen to me! I mean, I was the kind of person who always said that I don’t have time for love, I was busy, always busy, with college, with work, with life. But now…I don’t know anymore. Things seemed to have changed. I seem to have changed.

I’m more busy that I ever have been. Assignments are piling up, tests are menacingly flexing their jaws around the corner. Eliot has come back from the dead to haunt me. But do I care? All I can think of is…no I cannot even bring myself to say the name. I sit down in front of the computer to work on my assignment. Five minutes into it, my mind wanders off. My palms become all sweaty just at the thought of it. I become nervous, jittery just thinking about it. When I cannot be with my love, I’m desperate, everything seems so…so…inconsequential. It doesn’t matter that there are assignments to be done, papers to be written…

My roommate is not too happy about it. She cannot believe that such a career oriented, serious girl like me can be so frivolously in love. She says she won’t let me ruin my life on such few moments of meaningless passion. It’s just a temporary phase she says. I’ll get over it soon, and then I will regret all the time I wasted in this illusion called love.

I admit that I cannot believe it either. It’s not love, it’s become an obsession now. I wait till my roommate is out of sight to seek a look, just one look. Then my heart aches for more. I know it’s hopeless, it was not like the beginning. I’ve reached the advanced levels now, I will lose this game. But still…what if? Last time, just one last time I tell myself. I will get back to that paper…one minute won’t hurt. Then it leads to another…and another. Till my roommate comes back, catches me at it again.

“Are you playing that stupid Mine Sweeper again??? I can’t believe you are wasting your time on such a frivolous thing crumbs, don’t you have a ton of work to do?? I should just get that thing removed from the laptop all together. I catch you at it again, and I swear I will”

Sigh! The cruel, cruel world! It never understood love. Never will. Again. Sigh.

Blogs Won't Change the World...So They Said

2007-10-26T12:40:00.000+05:30

I just realized that I've been blogging for more than two years now. Which reminds me, Happy Belated Birthday Blog! :)

I remember that extremely bored day in college, when I finally decided to give in, and get me a blog. I say give in, because I had adamantly refused to get one at the time, when it seemed like a fashionable thing to do. The page 3 and the intellectual junkies of our class, suddenly seem to have waken up to this new cool thing to do. Blogging was "in". But me, being the wannabe rebel, refused to get myself one, and the reason I gave myself was that it is something that only those people do, who either have loads of time in their hands, or loads of stuff in their head to clear up. I, don't have the time. Or so I tried to convince myself.

But come September, that pretty much changed. I was jobless, and bored out of my skull. All my friends seemed busy sorting out the messes in their life, and none of them particularly expressed a wish to solicit my help. (ah! now I feel like a wannabe broke writer) So well, the point is, I was had plenty of time, and nothing to do in it.

And thus was born this blog. And so far, its been a good experiment. I like the idea of having the freedom of writing what I want, when I want it. I like the fact that a few (just a few!!) people read what I write, and the fact, that even when they are nameless, faceless, I can still know something about them, they can talk to me, and I, to them. It's a nice feeling.

I made a few good friends; I met, in some sense of the word, a lot of interesting people. I love the serendipity of following a random link in a random blog, and then suddenly finding myself face to face, with what feels like a long lost friend. When I read something someone was posted, and think, "Shit! This looks like she/he is feeling what I felt, thinking what I thought!." When I see someone else's blog, I say, " Hey! This feels like me!"

It amazing, how people can share so much in space where anyone can read them. And, honestly most of them, no, most of us, are not really trying to channel what we can't tell people on the face. I remember this huge row a friend of mine had with this guy, about this. "You can't tell me so you out it on the blog" blah. But the truth is hardly that. Most, I realized have an audience who know their identity, who know where they come from. But still its easier to talk here, than talk to someone in person.

I've had endless debates with a very dear friend who firmly insists that blogs will not change the world. I'm not saying they will. Or that they will be the avant gard soldiers to bring in the revolution that makes this a better place, but then blogs have changed the way the world sees, and the way the world speaks. Millions of people who would never have ever said a thing now have a voice--maybe not a very loud one, but then it still is better than screaming to silence.

Blogs are democracy in its true form--a platform where everyone HAS a chance to speak. How loud you are, and how much you are heard depends on what you have to say, and how you say it. Yes, large part of it is just Pinto, Chinto and Bunty explaining why they prefer to their eggs scrambled and not boiled, but then fact is that if Pinto, Chinto and Bunty choose one day to speak about cruelty to animals, they can. And they will be heard. And that's why, blogs will change the world.

Homecoming

2007-10-03T11:50:00.000+05:30

A journey back to what I thought I left behind. Almost dawn. Cold. Dark. Unfamiliar station. Yet, the comfort of being close. Trust, that you will be home. And then a familiar voice, concerned, caring. Familiar face. Then that familiar hug. And the warm feeling inside.

The same old jokes, the same old feeling...of knowing, of being a part of a whole. Squeals of delight at the sight of old friends, old past in the new present. My comfort zone.

There is something about smells...you can never forget them. You may not remember, not consciously at least. But they are always lurking in some dark corner of your memory. You take one unconscious turn, and they spring up in front you. You smile in recognition, and at the happy realisation that memories will soon follow.

Places. Sights. People. Smiles. Touch. Warmth. Joy. Exhilaration that nothing has changed. Nothing can possibly change in just two months, after all. Was is just two months?

It is nice to know that you belong. Someplace. To someone. Just as they belong to you.

A journey back. After a night spent shivering in the train, I step into the pleasantly warm morning to auto wallas who do not try fleece you. Still, trust is just not there. Relief, yes. But trust? Places, sights, roads, that are only distant acquaintances. Gates, that were not waiting, open for me.

Voices. Smiles. And a hug...not familiar, but still warm. I step into my room. On my messy bed, that sags so much that it's almost a hammock, is my brand new university tee-shirt. My roomie tells me that all of them have got it too. We are official tee-wearing part of this small cozy community.

As I listen to my roomie's happy chatter about the weekend's fun, of now familiar quirks of the now familiar friends, and the you-should-have-been-there-you-missed-so-muchs...I smile. Circles may not be too much fun, but they are a part of life.

This will be home too. Yet.

Return of the Original Chauvinist

2007-09-09T16:19:00.000+05:30

Chupulu. Stares. When I first read this poem as a part of the prescribed texts for my paper on Indian Writing, it didn't sound spectacular or even forceful. Among the more illustrius names like Kamala Suriya (erstwhile Das) and A.K Ramanujam, this comparitively little known Telugu poet talking about the offensive stares she fights every day, seemed just ordinary.

Not now. It's been a month that I moved to Hyderabad (Secunderabad, if you are a sucker for details). I now understand, perfectly, what that poem was all about. Now that I've walked on the streets, and travelled on the buses of Hyderabad, I know what it is to be stared at, rather, stared down at. "Being stripped with your eyes" is not a hyperbole anymore.

Hyderabad is considered one of the safest cities in India. It really is. My seniors tell me that they can go out partying, can return drunk at insane hours in the night, and not fear a thing. I've not heard horror stories of molestation, of people trying to feel you up in a crowded bus. They just stare. A stare that is much more than just lecherous. Girls here, need to learn to be demure. Or be just the responsible working homemaker types-who wake up at crack of the dawn, prepare breakfast and lunch for the entire household, runs to office, finishes her respectable 9-6 job, comes back to cook and clean some more. And at the end of the month, dutifully give their salary to their husband/father.

A bunch of girls going for a movie, in a non-multiplex: not good. A bunch of girls going out for lunch, and actually ORDERING their food, even with guys sitting with them: bad. Two girls going alone to pick up another at Secunderabad railway station, and THEN refusing a coolie, and carrying the luggage between them instead: BLASPHEMY.

It's not criminal. To stare. It's annoying, to be stared at. And it makes your blood boil. Chauvinism at its best. "Women are better of two steps away from the stove" attitude. The worst is, there is little you can do to fight, except stare back. Afterall, you cannot put a person in jail for just looking.

And it is not just the men. Women are equally bad. No their stares are not lecherous, but more accusatory, "the don't-you-know-your-proper-place" kind of look. I have not made up my mind about which is worse.

Me and Vidi were on our way to Hi-tech city. I had no change with me for the bus, so at the Secunderabad bus station we walked into the magazine shop. There was a lady at the counter, and a man who I presumed was her husband, standing on the other side of the counter. I asked for Reader's Digest, she looked at the man, who shakes his head. "Reader's Digest nahi hai ma" she says. "The Week"? Look, head shakes, a negetive. "India Today?" Same drill. Exasperated, I looked at the man directly and asked, "Outlook hai kya?" He offers Outlook Money, which I didn't want. So our enterprising business woman offers, "Femina, Women's Era, Graha Shobha saab hai, woh kuch lejao!"
I just blinked. And shook my head in exasperation and walked away with Vidi giving me cheeky "why-are-you-surprised" look. And their stares followed us all the way.

Only A Surviour

2007-08-29T12:38:00.000+05:30

I have been staring at the monitor for a while now, wondering what to write. No where to begin. There's so much that I'm itching to say. So much that's been happening. MT would have perhaps labelled this as Random Crap and be done with it. I can't somehow agree with that title, even though at the end of the it does seem an exercise in futility. Sign. It's one of those days.

More than 30 people died in the twin blasts in Hyderabad. One of the sites, Koti, is where we go to buy second hand books for cheap. We were there last week. And yes, we went to Gokul Chat too. A week ago.

I read this news report, about a victim. A man, who had taken a deture to get a snack for his wife, who had been fasting. He lost his life in that blast. I wonder how his wife will ever get over the incident. The last line of the story, quoted her saying that their son, just in the first year of his college, will now have to take up a job to support the family.

More than the man, more than the wife, I felt angry for that boy. He'd have had plans. He'd have had dreams for his life, which he now has to put on hold, probably forget about altogether. Why?

Whenever there is a blast, an act of terror, everyone harps about the victims. The pain of the survivours. And the compensation given by the government. But what are a few thousands going to do to help this boy? Unexpected death. That term makes no sense to me. When do we really ever expect to die? His father would not have planned to die that day. He'd have had obligations, liabilities. Promises made, and meant to be kept. All that now on that young boy's head. He'll learn to cope you'd say. Yes, we always do. Probably a few years from now, his proud tearful mother will say that her son grew up, and took the family's responsibility after his father unexpected death. And he'd probably smile. But will he ever forget the dreams that he buried along with his father's body? He could have been great, but now he'll only be a survivour.

Where terror wins is that it leaves a void where there was a person. It leaves a blank noice where there was laughter. Tears will dry. And people will move on. But lives will be altered. Forever. They don't take lives, they take dreams. And no Mr. Minister, you cannot compensate that with money.

Just

2007-07-25T05:30:00.000+05:30

I want to be a kid again
To pout my lips and wail
To be lifted up and consoled with reassuring promises of candy and a hug

I want to lie with my arms wide open on the grass
Feel the rain splattering on my face

I want to go jump and splash in a muddy poodle
And feel the water soak into my skin

I want to stare at the night time sky
And see the orion again

I want to stand by the shore
Waves crashing at my feet
And look for that seashell again

I want to talk the night away
And still have more to say

I want to bury my face
And feel safe again

I want to laugh at a sad joke
And cry for it again
Feel free and bound
And then free again

I want to sit by that sidewalk
And watch life passing by

I want my free fall
And I want my security blanket

I want to hold on to everything
And still not cling on to the past

I want to start each day
As though it is the first
And live each day
As though it is the last

I want to grab so much from life
That I feel I can't hold
I want to feel...

Lack of sleep and alcohol makes some people tired. In others, it induces illusions of untapped poetic potential.

I'm alive. Just in case anyone wondered :)

2007-07-17T12:58:00.000+05:30

Like Uncle Osama leaks videos of himself to prove USA has not nailed him yet, this is just to say that I'am not dead, terminally ill, or kidnapped by aliens.

Just on a wonderful break from online civilisation, and plain old lazy.

See ya soon.

Be Good.

Actually, be bad, it's more fun that way ;)

Cheers

Confused Encounters of the Worst Kind

2007-06-13T16:22:00.000+05:30

Why is my country in such a state of confused mess these days? No, honestly! I’ve often been called confused and lost by more enlightened amongst my friends, but I pale in comparison to the venerable men and women who are in charge of running the mammoth (and the metaphor is for size, not extinct value) that is Indian democracy.

Let’s take a look at the events that have been making headlines in the past month.

Kaun Banega Rashtrapathi (oh I love lame lines)

All segments in the political streets must be collectively berating the day they came up with the brilliant idea of pushing Kalam for the President. The man who showed the promise of being the poster boy for the secular happy family of Indian politics, turned out to the Prodigal son who never returned. He made himself shamelessly popular as the People’s President, won everyone’s heart (except for the politicians, who dragged him to The Big Bhavan in the first place) with his ready smile and wannabe curly locks. He poked his nose in their decisions, brought the much forgotten, and “eminently avoidable” (that’s what some news paper called it) issue of the Office of Profit debacle to the forefront, generally cared to be a little more than the proverbial “rubberstamp”, while forcing them to pull their acts together.

So when the talk can of re-election started, the political brotherhood forgot their differences and said a unanimous “Nought!”. That did in a common bee in their collective bonnets, but it posed the next problem—choosing the next candidate. Everybody who was somebody had his name being thrown in for the race—from The Big Bee Bachchan to Big Mentor Murthy. Bachchan mercifully saw the ridiculousness in the situation and refused even before they could offer. The county turned to Mr. Narayan Murthy to be Bharath’s First Bacha. But just as things were looking promising, he went and proclaimed in full media view that he found singing the national anthem embarrassing. (this of course is the classic example of media misquoting the innocent celebrity—what he actually said that they played the instrumental version of the anthem, instead of singing it in Infy in a ceremony that welcomed President Kalam because they “had a number of foreign delegates in the gathering, and it might have embarrassed them while we sing the anthem”. Of course this statement makes no sense whatsoever, so I guess the media’s twist at least made for juicy news watch).

Anyways, just about a week after the current Mr. President proclaimed that Mr. Murthy would make a wonderful Next Mr. President, the “corporate leader with a good heart and a golden vision” had his fall from grace, as the media gleefully pumped holes into his hitherto impeccable image. Suddenly he became the man who “shows his ignorance of India's caste struggle and its background” for his views on reservation, his views on Indian languages “lacked self-respect and pride” and “his corporate philosophy allowed no space for healthy cultural pride”. Having burnt their fingers once with a non-politician, the county’s elected rulers decided to play it safe—they could hardly go after a man who had such prideless views, when all we Indians collectively puff up our chest at the sound of the national anthem. So after some star struck followers of Murthy indignantly proclaimed that the whole “national anthem” issue was blown out of proportion, we just decided to put that chapter behind us, and move on.

It was then the mad race to choose the Next Indian Political Idol (to be sure, the President is really just expected to stay put and be worshipped as the democratic God). And all parties left no stoned unturned to look at all the ageing candidates who were in the trishakhu stage of pretty much not doing anything (okay, so if we agree to make you the President, will you please get off our face?) Karan Singh? AB Vajpayee? Bhairon Singh Shekhawat? Sushil Kumar Shinde? Or can we just quickly check if Pranab Mukherjee will like being the President better than being External Affaires Man? Or if Somnath Chatterjee got bored of being the Speaker? The Left considered name dropping to be beneath themselves so they came up with “job requirements” for the profile: the candidate should have “secular credentials, experience in public life and Parliament and one who could ensure balance between the judiciary, Parliament and the executive.” Just add water, and your President is now ready to be served!

The Presidential elections are less than a week away, and it seems it’s our very own Home Minister, who has agreed to be disposed off. It has been a tough battle folks. The super intelligent posh IT guy from Bangalore wanted His Mentor to be P, and Paaji from Patiyala and Munnu from Mumbai along with Amar Singh and Anil Ambani, wanted Bachchansaahab to be P, BJP wanted the VP to be P, Congress wanted EFM or HM to be P, Left wanted a miracle to be P, and my friendly neighbourhood doodhwala wanted his angreji speaking son-in-law to be P. If you have a candidate to be the first servant of India, don’t be disheartened, one week is seven days. As Udhay Chopra famously proclaimed in a very forgettable movie, “Saath din mein yeh duniya saath baar ghoom jati hai”, you never know.

The Indian Idol, Part 2, Meets The Great Indian Comedy Show

I’m referring, of course to the long drawn, nail biting, extra large bucket of butter popcorn demanding selection of the great Indian Scapegoat, a.k.a, The Indian Cricket Coach. The BCCI had decided that it had enough with the players getting so much attention for being Gods, and they feeling all left out like the 12th player. It also had enough with coaches who made presentation on their laptops on how BCCI sucked and decided that the next coach should be the epitome of cricketing brilliance, someone who can handle tantrums of players, and politics of selectors, and be the darling of the media, drop charmingly funny, and brilliantly lickass soundbites about how the boys tried real hard, and how it was just bad weather and lack of addidas shoes that lost the match, and how the BCCI was the best thing that happened to him. Of course he should be able to handle the occasional slap that came hurtling out of the bubbling blue billion.

After going around the world in little more than eighty days, the BCCI cracked the difficult task of finding Bharath ka Cricketing Dronacharya, who would make the Aussies cut their little finger and present him as Gurudakshina, so that his Indian Arjuns face no real competition. Ladies and Gentlemen, please make way fooooorrrrrr…Graham Ford. And in walks the suave and soft-spoken Ford to replace the nasty Chap.

But what do we hear now? Soft spoken Ford, turns sneaky little Ford, and delivers one tight slap right across the BCCI’s face, and says, he’s really happy with his cosy little job with the Kent, thank you very much. Ladies and Gentlemen, at this juncture, we pause for the shocked silence reaction…………………………………….

And the pandemonium breaks loose again! How will be the next? Ford said no. Embury said no. Ravi Shastri said no. Sunil Gavaskar said no. Er…can we just pretend to throw out Dada again, and then offer him a comeback as Coach? Or now that Sehwag is not playing, he can step in?

Our cricket team has been getting more than its due of flak after the dismal performance since the World Cup (the 1983 one I mean). Yeah so they didn’t do all that well in the World Cup (again), in fact they were quite bad, in fact they lost to Bangladesh (haawwwww!), but then they did beat Bangladesh in their own soil you know (serves them right too! I mean, that will teach them not to mess with the bestesht Westside clothed, Pepsi drinking, Sahara flying, Videocon watching, Nike sporting team in the whoooo-oo-ool world, ha!). Does not mean that they be treated like kids who were denied TV because they flunked in their high school exam! Good that bad bad BCCI got its due of tight slaps to. But question still remains, who will be the next slapgoat?

So there. The next person who calls me confused in life will get a sixer hit right on his/her face. Hrrrummmpph!

Tag Thee Well

2007-06-02T00:37:00.001+05:30

Gah! I have been tagged. That too by my well-meaning friend Tsu I no, I'm not going to pretend that I did not enjoy this, or try too hard to make it interesting. :P
Let's do this the old fashioned way of "ours is not to question why...."

Rules are (yeah there are rules and rulers and all that):

* Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
* People who are tagged need to write posts in their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
* At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

So here it is:

1. "Weird" is my most abused word. I use it at least 347 times a day, for everything from the way my boss acts to the colour of that-guy-on-street-with-a-disapproving-look's face when I stuck out my tongue at him for staring. "Weird" is the new "cute" for me...while other gals use "cute" to describe their puppy dog's wagging tail, and their boy friend's antics, I use "weird" with just same the passion. And yes, I have different shades and grades of "Weird". I know...that's weird :P

2. I firmly believe that UFOs are NOT cover-up for the air force's secret mission leaking out, somewhere in this world, there HAS to be a Hogwarts, and that someday machines WILL take over the world. And Oh, I HATE the idea of AI.

3. I can believe in absolutely contradictory things, and not be freaked out by it. Like I believe in love and I believe in arranged marriages, I hate wannabes, but I feel sorry for them. There are times when my mind neatly divides itself into teams and tangents, and then dashes of in different directions, leaving the rest of me to figure out which direction it (the rest of me, that is) should follow, or whether it should follow at all.

4. I often use words that I heard someplace, but I really don't understand the exact meaning of, and get away with it. For example, I do not really know what tangent is doing in that sentence in the previous point, but I bet the life of the ant-running-through-my-desk that it did not seem out of place for you...till you read this that is.

5. I can read Mills and Boon to wash off the aftermath of reading two Ayn Rands in a span of 6 months.

6. I can tell you the color of your dress when I was introduced to you first (that is if I care for you enough) but miserably fail to recall where I left my cell after I attending the call, just five minutes ago.

7. If someone sings a song that I don't like in front of me, or I hear it on the radio, then it gets stuck in my head, and can refuse to leave. I will keep playing in my head, I will unconsciously start humming that song, and then get pissed with myself when I realize what I am doing.(I could NOT get Paris Hilton's Stars are Blind out of my head for THREE days. And I did NOT enjoy it)

8. I feel connections with random story that I read, random movie/soap that I watch when I'm confused. Its like I'm looking for an answer, and then God just slaps it right in front of my nose, because it is that obvious, and I still refuse to see it.

9. I can lose COMPLETE sense of time when I'm doing something I love, I can get throughly lost in a place I don't know, because my sense of direction is PATHETIC. But, BUUT, I will always always find the way too. So don't ask me why you should take a left here and a right there...I can't tell you why, but I can tell you that you need to...just.

And oh they asked only for 8...my blogger page just refused to have anything more to do with weirdness. For those who still wanna know about my weirdo-meter, you just have to want for a couple of decades when my complete and unabridged version of my autobiography is out.

Oh, I'm supposed to spread the joy and pass this to 8 more souls. So here goes nothing:

1. Lash...because he would JUST refuse to take this up, or even consider the offer. He would scoff at the futility of this exercise, and how it is beneath his dignity to even consider this. AND now he might just take it up to prove me wrong. (sits back with an accomplished evil grin to see how he reacts ;))

2. Er...Mathew. Because I stole his tag. Or well I said I would. (If you have done this before, too bad, you'll just have to figure 8 more weird facts bout thyself :P)

3. Vodka, because she "found me" and "she needs to spend more time on blogosphere" :P

4. Goldenash...because I just got reminded of her RIGHT now for some inexplicable reason

5. The first person who reads this (every likely he/she is bored too)

6. Anyone born on the 26th of October ( just for the heck of it)

7. Anyone who likes listening to Stars are blind

8. Anyone who uses cute more than twice on a daily basis :P

No This is Not The New Femina Ad

2007-05-27T23:00:00.000+05:30

I refuse to walk with me head bowed down
I refuse to cringe when they throw filth at me
I refuse to be taken advantage of
I refuse to be considered weak
I refuse to stop walking just because I feel faint
I refuse to acknowledge the cretin in this world
I refuse to hate this city because of one creed
I refuse to stop enjoying the rain because of one night
I refuse to avert my eyes from that non-entity's pathetic face
I refuse to yell at those who don't care
I refuse to feel for friends who were not there
I refuse fear
I refuse guilt
I refuse to give up my freedom

I refuse to live my life on any terms other than mine

Of Serenity, Prayers and Acceptance :)

2007-04-20T16:39:00.000+05:30

"God, Grant me the Serenity,
To accept the things I cannot change,
The Courage, to change the things I can,
And the Wisdom, to know the DIFFERENCE."

The Serenity prayer. The only one I believe in, completely,
unquestioningly. It's everything you need, you'll ever need. And it's
the hardest thing in the world.

I found these words somewhere long, long ago, and I have believed in
their power ever since. It has helped me hold on when everything else
was hazy, even dark. And it always comes back to me.

I've never been such a sucker for custom made prayers. I remember when
me and my bro were kids, in Calicut, it was our job to light the vellaku
(lamp or diya that you light before a deity) in the evening. I was not
allowed to handle fire so chettan (my bro) would light the vellakku, and
I would light the agarbatties from the wick in the vellakku. And then we
would recite our prayers (we had this prayer in Malayalam, which is
usually recieted by kids, "Daiyame Kaithoram,kelkkumaragannam , paavaam
aam enne nnee kathumaraganam..." I hope I got the words right, but I
have a sneaking suspicion that I didn't. Loosely translated it means
God, I'm folding my hands in front of you, please hear my prayers,
always watch over me...). Somehow this little daily ritual got lost in
the daily busy business of growing up. And then I developed a whole
different perception about praying and my relationship with God.

I have not believed in mouthing pre-ordained words to pray for a long
time now. It always seemed so distant. For me God was always a personal
friend- someone I raved and ranted to, someone I loved and fought with.
But this one little prayer stayed. And it the only one that I actually
believe in. I don't know its origin, neither have I ever made an attempt
to find out. Perhaps because I have found my meaning for these words,
and now I don't want that coloured by any history, or anyone else's opinion.

Why all this now? Well, I've been deliriously happy these days. Confused
at times, more sure of myself than ever at times. And worried and unsure
at times. The mother of a good friend of mine told me once, "Everyone
has an allocated quota of everything in life-of falling down, of
learning to walk, of happiness, tears, joy, stupidity, everything. If
you don't finish your quota when you are supposed to, then you'll have
to make up for it sometime later." I kinda believed in that. And then
someone I have come to love and trust so much insisted recently, that
there really is no need for sorrow in life. You can find happiness in
everything, everywhere, all the time. Honestly, I'm torn between the two
beliefs. But are the two really different? Aren't both just really ways
of acceptance? For me, it is just saying that life comes in many
flavours. Yeah sometimes you end up with a crappy taste in your mouth,
but even that can mean that you have taste (notice the pun??). Life does
not have to be perfect to be wonderful.

It is perfect because it is wonderful.

I Me and My DNA

2007-04-03T18:46:00.000+05:30

Why? Coz everyone seems to be getting one. And "go with the flow" is my flavour of the month.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Rang Kitne Rang ke Hote Hain?

2007-03-13T02:22:00.001+05:30

Celebrating Colors in a Black World...
a trifle belated, but Happy Holi everyone!

Glass is Half Full. So Who Drank the Other Half??

2007-02-22T13:53:00.000+05:30

Today I read a comment on a friend's blog that honestly baffled me. "It is just sad.that in this 21st century stuff like this is still happening. people are suffering and willing to give their lives for others."
HUH???
again, HUH????

I really couldn't understand what this person was trying to say really. As far as I know noone had ever predicted that in 21st century all things nasty will miraculously evaporate, to be replaced by all things sweetness and light. Or did she mean that it's surprising that even in this mean 21st century, people still suffer and give their lives for others? What, has the world become such a depressingly apathetic place, that you can't care, you are just supposed to be bothered with only yourself and your immediate world?

Perhaps I am over reacting to what might have just a carelessly nonchalant statement. Maybe she just said something for the heck of putting up a comment, but such attitude somehow irks me. I fan never been such a big fan of doomsday theories, and the life-is-so-futile-world-is-so-bad philosophies. I mean yeah okay, I ponder over the greater meaning of life, the purpose of existence, the certainity of death and all that- when I'm depressed and extremely jobless(or is it that I get extremely depressed because I think about all this??Man!!This could be the next big thing after the hen-or-chicken story).
Somehow the thing is, for all the mood swings I have and all the tantrums I throw, I reckon, I intrinsically am a die hard optimist. Deep down, that is. I like to dream. Even if the dreams are impossible ones. I think even that has a high- thinking impossible thoughts.

And resultantly(gosh, now I feel like a Economics text book), I feel there is always hope for this world. I mean, bad and all that is fine, but I still think that human beings, as a race, still stand a chance. Maybe its a very naive take to be taking (is that right language?can u take a take??). But it keeps me sane.

Denial. It was created for a reason. Might as well accept that.

Crap. I began with something and ended with something. In Tsu's famous words, (I'm quoting you a bit too much don't you think??) "I lost my thought"

Cheers!
*hic*

One Thing...Just For ONE THING

2007-02-20T23:38:00.000+05:30

Restless tonight
Cause I wasted the light
Between both these times
I drew a really thin line
It’s nothing I planned
And not that I can
But you should be mine
Across that line

If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something

I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time

Even though I know
I don’t want to know
Yeah I guess I know
I just hate how it sounds

This song has obsessively stayed in my head ever since I heard it the first time, which was i think just a few months ago in bus
Sometimes someone else's words can so completely express just what you are feeling.
So...If I gave it all....?
But the question is, what would be that one thing? The problem is, I know!

2007-02-19T08:39:00.000+05:30

"Some people are so full of themselves that there is no place for anyone else in their hearts"

No great woman said this. I did. Something that occurred to me when I read a comment that a fellow kid put up on a friend's blog. Stuff such people man, they make me feel suffocated when I'm around them. What a way to begin your week!

I'm Done With the Sidewalk

2007-02-12T15:40:00.000+05:30

"Hi there. Are you fully awake yet? I'm just opening my eyes, and my head is still slightly hazy. Ah well. Utterly confused would be more correct I suppose. I'm surprised that I'm not too sure where I am, or who this girl sleeping next to me is. And now, why am I completely at ease to pull her close to me and scribble on her body "I love you"...

I'm not sure I am fully awake as I write this. Or completely sane. I saw this in my dream. Words. These words. No people. Just a voice. A guy's voice. A voice that is vaguely familiar, but irritatingly not placeable- a voice that you'd expect from some movie's invisible narrator.
No visuals in this...only a pen writing this, and a voice.

Who was that voice? And why did it (he?) want to tell me all these? Dreams. They have always disturbed me more than they really should. Not nightmares, just dreams, weird ones. It's almost like someone is trying to tell me something, that I only half want to hear. Most of the time, I still remember them...all everything as I wake up, and then as the day moves on, finer details slipping away like sand through your fingers.

I'm no story writer, but there are certain things that make me wonder if I really am living in a movie. And if that is what these dreams are trying to tell me.
Usually I move on...but this one somehow compelled me to put it down in black and white. To actually jump off the bed, even after just 3 and a half hours of broken sleep, pull out my laptop and write it all down. Even now, I feel as though, someone else, and not me is really writing. I mean, I'm...but someone else is telling me to. Some voice. Vaguely familiar, irritatingly not placeable. The kind of voice that you'd expect to hear from a movie's invisible narrator.

Maybe its lack of sleep. Or maybe its the lack of sanity. It's happening. And surprisingly, I'm not freaking out. I'm surprised, amused. Not scared. Ah well.

After 21 (nearly 22? 21 years and 6 months anyway) of lazy existence, I'm learning a few things about myself. There are times, when I see with amazing clarity. Then it goes away to be replaced by the dirty fog again. But those few moments, those few glorious moments, when I see me, like I should be, like I want to be, are exhilarating. Maybe I'll get there...yet.

The Unholy Crusades

2007-02-12T01:51:00.000+05:30

Scene one: A party. Huge, open air, bar, drinks, music and dance. Soft yellow glow of lights. People, loads of people. Drunk, dancing, high- on everything from the music to the liquor, to dope. People having a good time in a paradise, born out of utopia.

A few minutes later. The bartender is lying inert, with blood oozing out of a hole in his head. A building, blazing like a gigantic bon fire. Lights, but this time the blaze of fire. Music, dancing, liquor. People, high- on music, to liquor, to dope, to blood. People having a good time- this time swinging half head people by their toes like a pendulum. Dragging them on the ground, like rag dolls. All in the name of fighting to free a country from slavery. A paradise, born out of utopia.

The human race has this one amazing ability. To get used to almost anything. Pain, misery, death, bullets, torture. We can distance ourselves from anything. There are people who can drink, dance, and have a good time in a country that is raging with civil war. You go out to buy vegetables and you cannot be sure if you will come back safe, or a stray bullet is gonna head your way. There are no citizens there- only soldiers, rebels, the refugees. If you are not any of these, you are dead.

I thought I wouldn’t write about Blood Diamond. When I first read about it in Id’s blog, I was vaguely interested- maybe I should catch this movie. Then Prick decided he needs to take a stance on, again, I was hardly surprised, but didn’t feel the need to take a stance still. Then I saw the movie. By I knew what to expect, but yeah it still makes you sit up and take notice. But there is a whole lot of difference between sitting up and taking notice as opposed to standing up and taking action. There is only so much that a movie can do after all. Maybe it will make a few half virtuous people to stop fancying that stupid piece of rock(ah well, old rant really, I always felt that diamonds, after male superiority, are singularly the most over rated thing in this world).

But as I sat in the theatre watching that movie…none of Id’s or Prick’s words came to my head. The only thing that kept playing is, why are they killing all these people? Most, almost all, were killed just for the fun of watching them die- women, children, old people, young me. Entire villages wiped out, torched in a mad frenzy. A bunch of blindfolded kids, who are made to shoot down a gagged man. Then to ease the pain of the horrific realisation of what they did, they shoot some more. Till they reach a point where they don’t need that blindfold anymore. Till they can look into the eyes of their own fathers and point a gun at him without flinching. These people, rebels, soldiers, they were not fighting a war, they were not making a point, unless the point was “We stop at nothing, we are dead inside”

But in the middle of this madness, there still are people, who run around fighting to get their story out. There are people who dream of making their son a doctor. There are people, who have known it all, seen it all, and who dream of getting out of it all one day. And who’d give anything for that. And try and desperately rationalise that with, “It’s not war, it’s just business”. Then some, who don’t feel the need to rationalise. They sell the guns to the rebels, along with cds of Baywatch. Diamonds for guns. The “service providers”. “The world wants what we have to offer, we just get it to them”. The big guys in big cities, who walk around in crisp suites and fancy cars. The ones who buy these diamonds and store them away in deep coffers, knowing it stinks of blood. Then the puppet masters, who convince little kids that this is a crusade, and that in this world that does not give them the respect they deserve, but you need to take that. And how do you do that? With guns.

As long as guns and money are a part of somebody’s business, as long as terrorism is an industry, it will survive. As long as there are takers, there will be service providers. This is no holy war. There never has been such a thing. Its just simple rules of the market. Demand and supply. The “A” of TIA can be easily replaced with Is and Ps and Vs. Its all the same.

God of Small Things

2007-02-03T19:58:00.000+05:30

Happiness! Such a weird feeling naah? All the time we keep running after it thinking it is this elusive thing, and then one fine day it just jumps at you out of nowhere, and you are left thinking, “Wow! That was simple!”

One hell of a bad day I was having. Nothing disastrous, just one of those days in college when everything goes wrong and nothing goes right, your friends don’t understand you, your lecturers are mean, and the human race in general is not just mind bogglingly stupid, but is also on an out and out war with you. You know the kinds when the world and everything beyond just pulls you down.

At the end of a naggingly irritating day at college, I went in the evening to meet another friend. Ranted my heart out to him. Didn’t really help though. When I left, my mood was really really unhappy. I was walking back home, and I had to cross through Forum. Now malls are one place that I always was a fascinating place for people watching (NOT the same as bird watching). You meet all kinds- the rich, the not-so-rich, and the most interesting, wanna-look-rich. But that day I really couldn’t care less. I was too bothered my own set of borrowed problems to be worried about all that just then.

Then I saw this dude. Cute li’l chap, must be all of three years old perhaps. Dude had this tetrapack of Frooti in his hand, and was struggling with all this two feet nothing might, to push a stubborn straw into the packet, and finding that it ain’t the as easy as he thought it should be. His mom offered to help, but our man, staunchly refused. After all what’s a puny li’l straw to question his super baby might?

Then he looked up to see me looking at him with extremely amused eyes. I couldn’t help smiling at that tiny bundle of cute resolve. In return, the dude gave me the most spontaneous, and genuinely happy smile that I ever saw. That moment, that smile, made me feel so innocently happy, something that no amount of talking, counselling, philosophising, and ranting could manage. Looking at that kid, his happy smile, made my heart feel so light, all those things that were nagging me seemed so not worth it. Sure if he were some another two decades older, he’d have probably thought I was linemaorfying him. But right now, for him life was really simple. He saw someone smile at him, and he smiled back. He had his worries to handle (he was in the middle of the battle with the straw, remember?), but he had his fundas clear. Smile for a smile. As simple as that.

Sometimes I think, as we are born with the knowledge of pretty much everything that we need- to live to be happy. Then our whole life we spend in unlearning that, and then feeling all lost in the search of answers. Tsu recently said, if you can’t find the answers, its probably because you are not asking the right questions. Makes sense huh?

Happiness. It’s such a weird thing. All our life, we keep running after it, while it is all the while waiting in a mall, fighting a stubborn straw. :)

Someone Please Tell Her She's In Love!

2007-02-03T10:30:00.000+05:30

Statutory Warning: Lots of giggleing and Girl Talk ahead. Thou are warned. Proceed at your own Peril

Conversation had over gtalk. Undisclosed time, undisclosed location, and definitely undisclosed her. This is a work of fiction. But then what fiction is afterall a mere shadow of reality. Any resemblence to any person dead is absolutely unintentional. The living, of course is a different matter. All the author wishes to say is conveyed in one Cranberries' song- In Your Head!:P

Her: i have been meanin to talk to u for eons man

Me: eons and all huh

jus read ur mail

certified!u re in love

no two ways about it gurl

Her: i cant be

thats it

i have to get outta it

Me: lady, y working so hard to get outta it before u even fell into it completely

Her: cuz i dont wanna fall in to it

he is not that type

Me: hmmmm

cant believe we re having this conversation

i mean i can believe we are having this conversation, but somehow we BOTH seem to be on the wrong side

Her: ?

why

Me: u re saying things that i said for 3 freakkin years n i'm saying what u said for three freakkin years!!!!

Her: true

i mean we should stop takin each other very seriously

what do u say

Me: when did the world do this flip thingy??no one told me!!!!

Her: he he he

he he he it jus happened

Me: seriously man

now i'm freakking out

Her: y

what's up

Me: do u reckon i changed way too much after u left?

last time u told me that, n i ve been thinking of that ever since

Her: not much

i like u this way

Me: yeah?shit man

this way is whc way???

Her: the lighter side of moontalk

lil optimistic about love

Me: tee hee

ah well

Her: :)

ha har har

why are u blushing man

Me: hey!

who said anything bout blushing???

Her: he he he

i figured

...(means there's stuff that you dont need to know)

*Now begins the real Story*

Her: shit man

he gives so many signs

this guy

Me: hmmm

Her: stufid boys

Me: tee hee

so y dont u ask him

Her: no

Me: that i'll knock the stuffing outta him

Her: that will kinda complicate things

he he he

Me: then u can say u were bluffing

Her: i am not doing it anymore

he he he

he is a very

Me: :D add a li'l insult to injury

Her: so mean!!!

Me: he's a very?

Her: hmm he cannot express himself

what he feels

Me: hmmm

Her: in words

he hesistates

Me: want me to talk to him and giv him some tips

???

i can do that for u

Her:he he he

naa thanks

Her: but then he tries so hard and tells me certain things

Me: UH HUH

Her: this is endearing

very very

Me: wat certain things will that be????

ahem!ahem!AHEM!!!

Her: we were

hey!!!

Me: wat happened to "protect urself" n "he's not my type" and "naaaahhh"

Her: he he he

Me: WOMAN!!!who u kidding??????

Her: he he he

no da

once i asked

him

what if u like someon

he said he wont tell her and if he keeps quiet it will go away after sometime

so if he is actually talkin to me thins much i am sure he doesnt have tht feeeling for me u know

Me: and u started believing wats guys say bout their feelings since when????

Her: he he he

good pooint

Me: c'mon da!if he likes u, he's hardly gonna answer that question honstly

Her: no we were having a real serious conv that day

Me: i mean, we re talking GUYS and FEELINGS here

Her: he he heh

Me: uh hmmm

Her: ure so cute yea moontalk

Me: oy!!

Her: full emotions coming out

Me: lets not deviate here okay!!!

Her: he he he

na i like the deviation

Me: yeah yeah

from him being "endearing" i ve become "cute"

Her: yeah yeah yea

Me: lowve!lowve!lowve!!!!

thats wat this is all bout

Her: na

Me: u dont use language like that otherwise!!!!

Her: :(

excuse me

wtf

i use cute and all

endearin new word learnt today

i used it in a sentence

Me: i'm sure if u learn flibertigibet today u'd use that in the next given opportunity too

he he he :)

Me: yeah yeah

Her: i could go on talkin about him

man

...

*yep, she's not in love. Absolutely NOT*

*Now, whats the point of having friends if you can't blackmail them bout their love lifes???*

Me: u kw wat, i'm gonna post this on the blog and send him the link

Her: pode

no no

these guys are stupid

i knw

Me: muahahahahahahahaha

Her:no da

thats it

i stop here

i have made a decision

and this is not like any stupid ones

Me: yep

u re afterall a strong independant woman *she is, she really is*

Her: i am gonna give life a chancebut this whole thin g is that

podi

i am seriously saying

Me: okay okay

Her: :) ;-/

Me: seriously say

Her: podi

i don wanto get in to anymore messes where i have NO SAY

what shit yea

sometimes i need to be in the place wher i can take decisions na

i mean

Me: dude da, not gonna happen

all said n done u will feel just what u don wanna feel

Her: podai

tch tch

Me: see if tch tch worked, then i'd be falling in love with someone else na

y am i bother bout this sad chap who perhaps more fucked up in the head than i am???

Her: hehehe

cuz ure stupid

Me: yeah okay then!!!

n what ar u????

Her: he he he

Her: my point exactly

Her: grrr

i dunno

il tke it as it comes i guess

Me: go with the flow huh?

Her: hhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

i wanto make noises

that icant type

Me: okay....(ermmmm...wat was I supposed to say to that???!!!)

Her: ye!!!

Me: u kw that sentence came out all weird right

Her: nothing kinky

Her: yeah

!!!

Me: !!!

...

*and thus spake the wise one*

Her:kids!

still kids we all are!

Me: tee hee

yeah

its all about relative maturity for the momment i guess

Her: yeah

yep

i guess for every age we will be young

Me: oh my

there's a thought!

okie

Her: he he he

Me: need to leave now

late already

(And then in typical gal fashion, we proceed to talk for another 20 mins, before I finally got my sorry ass outta the office!

Now, I'm gonna go underground for about 4 years so that the lady in question cannot hunt me down and chop me into tiny li'l pieces of vulture dinner. Ta People! Pray for my soul. And please, tell her she's in love!)

I Massacred 21 Kids, I am SO Sorry!

2007-01-04T18:32:00.000+05:30

The country has gone into shock over the Nithari killings. The mangled parts of the victims are still being sieved out of the drain behind industrialist Mohinder Singh Pandey’s house. Helpless parents from all nearby areas are coming to Sector 31, to see if some bit of all that flesh, bones, blood or cloths, belonged to their lost child. Half a dozen UP cops have been sacked, a couple of probes being ordered. And what does the sick psychopath have to say? “Please forgive me, I committed a mistake”

This was not done for money, though the latest update is that this sicko was involved with organ trading too, along with everything else. But the way he went about is appalling. He and his personal human slicer servant, Surendra Kohli, lure little kids with sweets, get them in the house, sexually abuse and then kill them. Then the victim’s head is cut of, his/her body chopped like bits of meat, packed in a gunny bag and then carelessly dumped in the drain. Police found a saw, yes a saw, in the house allegedly used for the whole slicing-the-kids-up ritual. And this routine happened, over 20 times, over a span of two years.

No Mister, you didn’t commit a mistake. You committed rape. You committed murder. You committed the gory act of killing 21, and God knows how many more, innocent people. Children. And in the most cruel possible manner imaginable. You don’t deserve forgiveness. You deserve the noose.

Forgiveness. A rather funny thing, don’t you thing? Noble, undoubtedly. It gives you a sense of power, a sense of having done something rather good, both asking for it, and giving it. In a way, you feel vindicated. You wrecked my life, but I forgive you. You hurt me like hell, but I forgive you. But how can you forgive a person who takes away something so precious from you life, that you can never be the same again. These people, these parents, what had they done to deserve such a fate? Those kids, what had they done? Why did they have to die, in a way that you only read in cheap thrillers and psychology case studies?

Human rights group waste no time going up in the arms when ever someone is sentenced to death. ‘Oh, I understand that he killed so many, but killing him is not human.’ ‘Life is sacred, and when you don’t have the power to give it, you don’t have the power to take it.’ Heck, there was a bloody strike in Kerela because Saddam Hussain was hanged. Yes human life is sacred, yes killing is inhuman. That is just why these worst forms of vermin deserve to die. When you kill someone, and kill them not out of rage, not out of revenge, but just for the heck of it, you forfeit your right to live. Your life can no longer be sacred property, when you have taken so many. And taken them without remorse, without conscience. As far as I am concerned, that makes a pretty strong case point in favour of the gallows.

Skeletons

2006-12-16T17:10:00.000+05:30

What if one day you wake up, and realise that you are sick of the lie that you have been so carefully building up all your life? That you have been so busy in playing this person you thought you should be that you forgot what it was to be you? That perhaps, there is no such things as "you"...just a collation of reactions. Reactions to what others said. Others did. You just went through life, one reaction to another.

Your folks wanted to you to be like every other kid- smart, rich, happy. So you decided to be a rebel, but where is your cause? Your friends wanted you to be more understanding, so you pretended to understand. But what do you want to be? What are you? Is there even a real you? And if there is, then why doesn't this real you ever raise her voice in protest?

You never felt anything. You never hated anyone, never loved anyone. You so desperately wanted to, so you convince yourself it is because you are unique. You can't be what others are. You have different priorities. And no one understands that.

You pretend to be smart. You pretent to be strong. Arrogant. Ambitious, no-nonsense woman.
And in your heart you know you are that 12 year old who used to close the door, play the music loud, and then sit and cry. Just because you thought if someone saw your tears, they would know how stupid and weak you really are.

Some skeletons have this habbit of popping up in your mind when just when you had completely forgotten about them.

No people, I am not depressed. This is, afterall, just another cheap trick to grab attention.

May be I should take Lash's advice. And get me a coffin. Cheers!

Some Gentleman’s Game This

2006-12-03T20:24:00.000+05:30

On Tuesday, Nov 28^th, the front page of TOI carried a photograph that quite simply made my blood boil. Couple of Lok Janashakthi Party “activists” smearing cow dung, on the picture of the Indian cricket team, and on the walls of cricketer Mohhamad Kaif’s house. What sort of a behaviour is that? What filthy attitude is that? Okay, so the whole country is angry because of the team’s dismal performance. I am too. We are a cricket crazy nation. We are an otherwise crazy nation too. The players are some kind of demi-gods, with temples dedicated to them.

India

wins; it’s a nation wide party. If it loses, then it’s the Great Depression. Before every world cup, people take it on themselves to conduct pujas on the players’ behalf, for the team to perform well. It’s like the team is this giant kid, going to give it’s broad exams, with the expectations of a family of a billion, weighing upon it.

And I have always thought that we have a team made for the population. It’s equally unpredictable. And just as crazy. It loses matches that seem like a breeze. And when the whole world has said the last word, the Men in Blue go down under and pull out a miracle.

But honestly, this time I think we have broken all boundaries. Both the team in dismally sad performance, and the rest of the country in over reacting. What right do some nutty party non-workers to go deface a player’s house? Smear it with cow dung? A follow up a few days later said that the family was considering moving out of UP because it had become difficult for them to live in such psychotically hostile surroundings. If I remember right, some hooligans has previously thrown stones at the house in a previous incident. I can understand their decision to move, what I don’t understand is why.

It is about time we act a little more grown-uppish about the game. Okay, it is not just a game, it is a religion. But no one says religion has to always involve violent knee-jerk reactions, and harm to people and property. Or is it that religious riots and violence in the name of Gods, and now demi- gods, has become the part of the Indian way of life?

First thing to do, would be to actually chuck that precious coach of ours. I don’t really care to analyze his coaching or cricketing abilities. He just can’t seem to know how to conduct himself in public, and honestly, he is made more news for his controversial comments and nit-pickings- first with the then-caption, and now with the MPs, than he has ever done for the team’s performance under him. We don’t need a coach to teach our players how to play cricket, they are good at it on their own. We need a coach to bring the players together to perform as a team, and perform well. And this, Mr. Chappell has sorely, dismally, failed to do. He is appointed to do a job in a country that is not his own, he could begin with having some respect for that country. And not play the smart ass there, and always pass the buck to someone else all the time. I don’t remember one incident, where Chappy has come forward to take responsibility, and said, “the team didn’t perform well, it was a joint responsibility, we are sorry”. Instead, he is full of complaints, for the team, for the captain, for the MPs and for the board. WTF?!!!

And now, dear darling Members of the mighty Indian Parliament, are you really so starved for attention? Why is that you are so hell bent on losing what ever little respect that we have for you? Ooh ooh! A defense scandal! The defense minister has to step down! Ooh! Ooh! A communal riot! The CM should step down! Ooh! Ooh! Pakistan sneezed! The Prime Minister step down! Please, stop thinking that asking people to resign whenever there is a controversy, will immediately solve all the country’s problems. If it did, we won’t need you. Well, on second thoughts, we don’t need you anyways.

And to my fellow media guys, people! Why do have to work so hard to make our MPs look like a bunch of bumbling fools? Stop trying to reinvent the wheel, and start publishing on some real news. If you don’t stop hounding the minister to get sound bites, and stupid remarks, you probably miss Ash and Aby’s baby lighting a diya together, Ganga kinaare, after they fought about Ash- Hritik kiss being 2 secs too long. After all that is breaking news we all are holding our breath for.

And to the Men In Blue, COME ON guys!!!!

Miss Know-It All said: The blue billion rises. The so do the Men- in- Blues! It’s all just fizz. Sab moh maya hai!

Sadness!

2006-11-30T19:05:00.000+05:30

What do you do, when you half-think you are falling in love with exactly the same guy with whom you really, REALLY do NOT want to fall in love with??!!!

AND, then what do you do, when someone you thought was gone off into the mist of yesterday, suddenly comes out of the fog, and asks you the most incredible question of your life?

AND then, what do you do, when you are still confused, and you STILL don't like it???

AND, then what do you do when your editor finds out you have not really been working?!

SIGH!! Decisions! Decisions!!

"Bad gal, bad gal, Wattaya gonna do?
Wattaya gonna do, when they come for you!?"

The Good, The Nasty and The Funny

2006-11-16T15:03:00.000+05:30

* I wrote this on Monday, Just never got a chance to upload it. Sigh!And noone believes me when I say I am busy *

Monday morning, and I am already cheesed off. What a great way to start your week.
As with every Monday morning, I wake up late. My body refuses to move out of the cosy bed, and my brain, refuses to do anything to help, it doesn’t even register a small protest. In fact, it actively collaborates with my brain saying, “Ah my pretty, you can rest a while more, let moontalk be screwed. Now when my mind, and my body gang up against the poor old me, what do I do than give up?

Which means, as with every Monday morning, I take a rick instead of a bus. What better way to begin a week than to over-spend? (Shit I need to manage my money better)

I reach the happy place that is my office, today this big exclusive is supposed to go live. I read through the story, and there’s this tiny line inserted which I didn’t find when I last saved the story on Friday eve, no night, because it was 9.15 p.m when I left. Speaking to our ed-in-chief, Mr. X, of the company Y, said…” Now let me give you some background information on this. I did the research. I made the friggin questionnaire, I wrote the goddamn story. Yes, the chief-in-ed, did speak to him. Asked him all the questions that I bloody gave to him. And his happy name comes in print. Usually we have a no by-line policy with most of the stuff that we write. And I am cool with that. So the story as I wrote read, “When Mr.X, of company Y, spoke to the us….”. But now that’s changed. Technically, it’s true. If u call up our dear X, he’d probably testify. But why is a little voice in my head saying, “@&*$ them?”

* * * *

I take a dekho at the colophon for the next issue of the mag, and guess who the new Assistant Editor is? Yep, yours truly. Ah well! So I get a name, and a promotion, what if it’s just on paper, and doesn’t really mean anything. One should appreciate the small mercies in life, right?

* * * *

We went and saw The Departed on Saturday. After a loooooong time, a movie made me go “WOW”. And that’s all I will say!

P.S: I also saw, The Shawshank Redemption on Friday (yeah, yeah, yeah, believe it. I had NOT seen the movie till now. Shame, I know). Another really “WOW” movie. (Now I still stand by what I said about The Departed, because The Shawshank Redemption released way back, it’s my fault that I never saw it, right?) Its feel good, without being sloppy or mushy, or romantic (now we don’t have too many of those around do we?). It leaves you with a warm happy feeling in your tummy, and makes you feel like there is hope for this world yet. Maybe I should watch it again today. Hmmmmm….

* * * *

Time: Evening- 7ish
Day: Saturday
Random scene on Brigade Road:

Two ‘dudes’ standing on the side-walk in front of Mota Arcade(think that’s what it is called). One of the flower kids trying the best of his salesman skills. (There is this bunch of very enterprising street kids who haunt Brigade-MG road stretch, selling flowers. I say haunt, because they are every guy’s nightmare- here they are trying to pataofy this gal they have been trying to pataofy for the last 3 weeks, and here comes the kid, “Bhaiya phool le lo na bahiya, didi ke liye le lo, dekho usse chahiye, aapko leke dena chahiye…” and so on, till the guy is the most glorious colour of pink and the gal can’t stop giggling. There goes all the romantic, but oh-so-smart lines he had rehearsed with his friends. Anyways, I digress). So the overheard part of the conversation:

Dude* in a very desolated voice, with full emotion on face *: Arrey, aap mujhe ye bataiye, mein doon kisko???(You tell me, whom do I give it to???)

AAH HA HA HA HA HA HA!
(I really did laugh out loud, and that guy went the brightesht shade of pink, anyway!)

Google Has Me All Figured Out

2006-11-12T15:28:00.000+05:30

Googlism for: sneha
sneha is open from 8 (er...no commens)
sneha is a voluntary organisation that values human life and feelings
sneha is bitch (shit!you are NOT supposed to say that in public!Damn Google!)
sneha is the great actor (yep, they offered me the Oscar this year. But I said, no!)
sneha is an organization for women of south asian origin and their families (ummm....)
sneha is continuing to fundraise and network within the community( I need money people!!!)
sneha is distrusted by (ah well! The list won't fit in here)
sneha is really cute in this role (as always baby!)
sneha is located at 1214 apollo way (now you know my name, AND my address)
sneha is concentrating among the slum dwellers of khurbura (I such goodness)
sneha is his daughter (My daddy, strongest)
sneha is sure to bag one ( Uh huh!)
sneha is the hottest name (so it really is not the weather)
sneha is wasted and has little to do (yeah, they banned gmail and orkut in office, you see!)
sneha is a registered charity with igive (josh, I am SUCH goodness)
sneha is consistantly represented at the new york metro reptile expo (yep I'm a hit with the kids too)
sneha is going to work with vijay (he kept begging me man! What to do?)
sneha is ready (as alwyas)
sneha is a hindi word meaning 'love' or 'affection' (there's something you didn't know)
sneha is miffed with vikram (oh he's such an irritating prick man!!)
sneha is already married to anand (we are getting a divorce, don't worry)
sneha is simply superb in her looks and acting (blush, blush)
sneha is intrinsically a money (who never has any)
sneha is deeply in love with mr (your guess is as good as mine! Sign!)
sneha is the daughter of the landlord ( ha!I'm rich!)
sneha is their pride (gosh!)
sneha is extremely cute and equally impressive with her acting (gosh people, shy coming, shy coming)
sneha is very pretty and preetha fares well (yeah she's passable too)
sneha is a physician who is doing her residency in internal medicine at st (I am beauty AND brains, yeah baby, I rock!)
sneha is
sneha is able to bag more and more decent characters (there are so hard to get man)
sneha is now helping to set up the first survivor support groups in india (didn't I tell you I was goodness?)
sneha is the project coordinator of the u (sorry that's classified information)
sneha is working (or trying to)
sneha is missing (since 1999)
sneha is cast as the heroine opposite prashanth (ummmm....things you gotta do to make a living)
sneha is a brilliant researcher and clinician originally hailing from mysore (Intelligence, see?)
sneha is spending the year working with kids as part of an americorps program called city year
sneha is in hospital following a car accident on her way to tirupathi (yeah I'm critical. Dunno if I'll survive.)
sneha is beautiful but has to go a long way before she can be recognized as a good actress (oh yeah??YOU do it then!)
sneha is ugly is so stupid
sneha is ugly and srikanth is a cutie a (yeah, I'm fat and mean too)
sneha is a beautiful south indian actress (okay, enough!)
sneha is her beautiful self but it takes some time to get used to the voice that has dubbed for her (People like the natural me)
sneha is the heart
sneha is responsible for cleaning up litter on a stretch of highway (sigh, like I said, things we do for work)
sneha is helped by her friend janaki who also hates men (The operative word being ALSO)
sneha is the only suicide
sneha is in love with abbas but her marriage is fixed with someone else against her wishes (life's a bitch ain't it)
sneha is refreshing
sneha is the hottest name in the tamil film industry (okay, this DOES it)
sneha is proving herself to be one of those actresses who can carry any role with ease
sneha is
sneha is tharun's pair and preetha vijayakumar is paired with amsavardhan
sneha is a sophomore at nnhs
sneha is studying in chennai's amm school
sneha is very touched by these gestures (P.S. don't ask me where)
sneha is to provide utklesha
sneha is now under the gloom of self (now I am a depressed maniac)
sneha is enjoying herself (right now, yeah I am!)
sneha is seven months old (I am a wee li'l child)
sneha is playing opposite prashant and this is her first film
sneha is on the 2nd spot with 4
sneha is a cooperative society providing micro finance services in the rural and semi urban areas of ranga reddy district in andhra pradesh
sneha is preferred medicated (this, ladies and gentlemen is my favourite of the lot)
sneha is kept in a clean container at a place safe from cold and humidity (er...creepy)
sneha is affiliated to befrienders international (absolutely no comments)
sneha is again of two types (!)
sneha is oil (!!)
sneha is led by a team of experienced and skilled individuals
sneha is indeed in her prime now (er.......)
sneha is over ( I refuse to accept that)
sneha is vice (Yeah, I am Evil)
sneha is a sophomore here at northwestern university majoring in biology
sneha is yet to be released (er.....)
sneha is the hottest name in the tamil film (old news)

Okay people, now you know my name, my address, and everything about me. I opened my heart to you, handle with care!(God, what a cheesy line)

I have a Weekend!

2006-10-01T17:30:00.000+05:30

Hmmm...been a while.
So the updates, first.

I changed jobs. I realised that I was getting no where with my last one. And that when I decided to work in a place where I knew everyone, it was, actually a mistake. Sigh! Further, I also realise that as much as I enjoy event management, I HAVE to write. I can't be happy when I'm not. So!
Clarity, or some semblance of it, at last. Bottomline? I quit.

Now my boss doesn't open the door for me in the morn. Neither does he take us out drinking. And we don't discuss books and weird looking clients. But then, my work is more focused. I'm on my toes most of the time. I'm learning something COMPLETELY new. And if my work is bad, I'm told that it needs to improve. If its good, I'm told that too.
Bottomline? I'm happy that my professional life, is well, becoming professional.

There are 5 gals(including me) at work. And 8 guys. No one to drool about. One new guy joined the other day...sorta cute. You should have seen the socialising in the pantry that day. Sheesh ladies! Do we HAVE to be THAT obvious???? :D
Bottomline? In the land of blind, the one eyed man gets all the attention!

My super boss, I realised, does have a sense of humour. He's not your regular howdy-folks-how u-doing-this- morn kinda boss. But well, when I'm rushing to updates the day's features on the website at 9.30 in the night (my first regular day, I take that long to finish. The only people left in the office are me, the chief ed, n deputy ed), he thinks it important to ask me how I'm finding the work, and if I'm enjoying it.
Bottomline? If you work late, your boss warms up to you

At the end of the day, my friend asked me of I'm enjoying the new place. And without really thinking, I say I've not made up my mind. Which I think is true. It's not a bad place to work. My collegues, though not over friendly, are sweet enough to help, whenever I need it. My editors are supportive, and patient. I do enjoy the pressure to perform, the busy work hours. And having the weekends to myself. Do I miss the old place? To be honest, no. In many ways, I'm glad. But do I love the new place? To be honest, no. I like it, yes, love it, no. Is that ok? Yes.

Bottomline? I'm happy. At peace with myself.
Cheers! :)

Why Calvin & Hobbes Is My Fav

2006-09-11T15:57:00.000+05:30

one of the many reasons actually...:) * if you're happy n u know clap your hands!*

Misery Loves Company, so does Anonymity

2006-09-08T18:41:00.000+05:30

Acknowledgements: This post is inspired from this post by Tsu, and my subsequent reading of the book mentioned, and my coversations over the last few days with Certain Someone

Disclaimer: I was supposed to live upto my new found reputation as a gossip journalist, and use this space to slander Certain Someone's carefully created reputation. But well, I'm just feeling too deary to even be evil. *sigh*

Instead I thought I could theorise (is there a word like that?). Have you ever wondered what hurts the most? Saying something and wishing that you never had? Or saying nothing, and wishing that you had? Okay, profound lines. So naturally, not mine. I just found that on my boss'e desktop. But that's really not what I wanna talk bout today. It just came to me now thinking how Certain Someone just kept wishing that there was less talking involved over the last few days...*yeah...*

I read someplace looong back that it's easier for us to trust a complete stranger because they have never betrayed us. Or was it let us down? Whatever. But y? Y is that we hide so much from the people we claim to love? We are ready to share that part of our selves, which we so carefully guard from all our friends, with relative strangers. I know I've done it quite a lot.

Maybe its because, with strangers we have nothing to protect. They come from oblivion, be in our lives for a chasm of a second, and then fade away to oblivion again. In that micro minute in our lives, and theirs, there's no time to measure up or pass value judgements. There's just time for two human beings to meet. And somehow, in the safety net of that the partial annonymity (I say partial, because the net doesn't really provide, you the complete anonymity that you think it does. This I realised when a smark geek managed to find out quite a bit bout me, including where I went to school, without too much sweat...so so he says) we feel secure enough to let our guard down. We don't try to impress that nameless, faceless entity (I'm excluding people who are searching for prospective brides, sitting in "gelf", or losers looking for long distance sex). We can be what we want to be...swim-suit model, intellectual snob, struggling copywrite. We can be what we are, and not have to be made feel guilty about it. Afterall, who is a stranger to judge us?

Honestly, I find nothing wrong with it. It takes your mind of reality for a bit. Or does it actually face you to reality? If it allowes you to give it a rest with everyday acting, put that mask of being proper, and being a winner all the time, for a bit, then y not? But sometimes the lines blurr...what some strangers refuse to fade away into that blackhole. What then?

All In a day's work- Episode 2

2006-08-17T16:57:00.000+05:30

I promised a more detailed post bout my collegues. So here it is.

We are all of 4 people in the office. Well, that will be were, now that one's quit.(We belive in "chota parivaar, sukhi parivaar"). Before I crash landed, it was 2 guys and a gal (no pizza place, only one small idli-dosa place, and a bakery) Now that I made my magnificent entry, its 2 guys and 2 gals. (and still no pizza place, only an occasional biscuite and Kurkure). N then CC quit, so now we are back to 2 guys and a gal.(no pizza place still)

Having just 4 people means we miss out a whole lotta "employee benefits". We get only one measly Sunday off, as long as some sucker doesn't decide that he wnats to have his company's "fun day-out" that particular day of the week. We dont not have public holidays, 8 hours workday, or a pick-up bus/cab/bike. We do not get Sodex-ho! coupons that we can sell off to our friends for money when we are broke. And no we do not get mediclaim, PF and an HR/ Corporate Communications team that sends us bright happy mails every week to tell us what an invaluable asset we are to the company. We don't even get award for getting our ass to office on time or get our photograph pasted in the bulletin board saying "The most happening Employee of the day" Heck, we dont even have a bulletin board.

Instead, we get to fight for whose gets a desk next to whom, discuss books, movies, and each other's lives. We also get to ask THE Boss to give us some money if we are broke. *Please?Please Pretty please!!* We can all go out drinking and expect THE Boss to pay. We can play Harry Potter quiz, socialize on gtalk, blog, read Crime Library and The Onion, download about 15 MB of Calvin and Hobbes and not have a Firewall pop-up n say "busted!" or get dissaproving mails from the HR talking about the importance of "optimal use of time and resourses to maximize productivity and minimise employee fatigue" or other such vague statements found in MBA and Organizational Psychology books.

So much for my work environment, now to move on to my fellow-inhabitants in the workplace. I'll shall begin at the top of the food-chain.

THE Boss. Self-explainatory. He's the unquestioned caption of the ship. The Big Wheel. The Fattest Fish in the pond. So as to speak. His biggest worry in life is that we don not treat him "boss enough". He's the one man army, the guy who literally visualises the whole works, and then gets it done too. IQ of some 140, he believes that the weird lines that pop up his phone's display screen are part of secret transmissions for the SETI. ( search for extra terrestrials international...duh!) He also believes you should never refuse an offer for samosas. Whenver he says, "I'll be back in half an hour ok? I'll meet this guy and come back" it means that you will see him only the next day. He knows like 3 quaters of the town, and 4/5ths of the town knows him. Which means that the longest his phone goes without ringing is about 5 mins and 47 seconds. 6, if happens to be early in the morning. Quite a guy!

Caramel Custard. Second in command, she is the iron lady. Was, to be sure, coz she's quit now. She's been in the company forever. So she literally knows everything that is there to know. She's the practical one, even though she randomly makes statements like "I feel like a caramel custard.I feel like this giant piece of caramel custard!" The mamma hen. And she sure looks out for her pack like one too. "THE Boss Please don't pick up our cell while riding!" "LD eat your salad da, whats wrong with you? Look how much weight you have lost" "LD Stop smoking so much!" "Moontalk, stop with the junk food. Look at this gal da, she survives on biscuits and ice cream!". Thinks I am a total kid despite of my earnest efforts to prove otherwise. Keeps thinking our clients look, and act like various animals. So far we've had frog, mouse, and bat. :D She's my mentor, and to be honest, I feel a bit lost, now that she's left. And bored. :(

The Lost Don. Third of my wonderful team mates. Slightly lost in life, he suffers from a mild case of delusional disorder. Hates my guts. The feeling, of course, is mutual.
LD: "Moontalk! Call XYZ and ask him if he's free to do a polka dance for me on the 29th. Fast!"
Moontalk: " Can't you see I'm busy discussing how the frog acted when he saw water, with caramel custard? You do it youself, it's your project!"
LD: "I'm the KING. The master of the universe. You have to listen to me"
Moontalk: "Yes Your Majesty" *rolls eyes*
Caramel Custard: "You two make such a cute couple! Kids, you are so adorable" *sniff*
Moontalk: *Barf!*

And, he also thinks THE boss is his "god father" (right!), which is why I call him the Lost Don.
To be fair, he can be quite considerate when he wants to. Like the time, he quitely bought me lunch when I said I don't wanna eat (truth was I was broke, and I didn't wanna say that!). In fact he gets me lunch all the time, when I feel too lazy to walk up till our regular eating joint. So, well. He can be nice too. Comes up with the crrraziest of ideas all the time. Thinks office of profit bill is the same as out of office bill. Says, "I got fully psyched" some 56 times a day. Oh did I mention that he's a karake champ (which is why I don't really push my luck too much in arguements!) and smokes like a chimney?

Alge Eyes. Our resident sound enggineer. Technically he's not part of the team. But he's more or less always there, so it more or less, qualifies him to be an employee off rolls. He and THE boss are till- death- do- us- part buddies, much to the chargin of CC, who happens to go around with Alge Eyes(so naturally she thinks that he should be till-death-do-us part with her, and NOT THE boss :D). He and THE boss have once picked up a stop sign off the road, just like that. "That thing was so irritating da!". He's also the sweetest thing! Has eyes in some weird shade that alters between green and brown. Loves music, and everything that's gotta do with sound.

So there! That's my happy family there! Ours is an office where people can whistle at work(that's me), read Crime Library(thats CC), hide ciggeretts(wrong spelling?) in weird places(no prizes for guessing it LD), and generally be happy. All in a day's work!

I'm SO lazy! I'm SO lazy!

2006-08-14T17:40:00.000+05:30

Height of laziness is what the last post was! SO I deleted it. It was irritating to see something like that on my blog! Not that I dont have anything to write about, there's plenty of stuff, as always, running through my head. But well, its quite simply is laziness. Pure undiluted laziness

Sigh! May be its the strain of turning 21 (yeah right!!). Or maybe it's just that there is so much indecision around me that I'm not quite sure what take precedence over the other. Sigh again!

Independance Day today. I woke up at 5.30 a.m, after sleeping at 2.00 in the night. Went to the station to see off a friend. Waited with 2 others, for another friend. This time, she was getting me goodies from home. Had breakfast at the railway station with 2 people I love spending time with. Got back, slept till a health 11.30 am. The got up, and rushed for work. It's 8 in the evening, and I'm still at work. I always said we were a dedicated bunch in office , didn't I? :)

This post...it took me 2 days, and 3 sittings to finish it.

But this is what I pretty much what I wanted. Hardwork. Busy schedules. Being so caught up with stuff that my stupid over-working mind doesn't get the opportunity to work me into psychosis!

So well, this is great. It's not perfect. Life never is. But this is just right. It's wonderful! :)

Current mood? Contentenment! Uneasy, but happy!

P.S. I don't think I can ever be happy if I'm not busy. Well, not that I dont like a break, I do! When it is well deserved. When I have worked for it. Like today!

All in a Week's Work

2006-08-12T16:33:00.000+05:30

The week just ended.

And what a week!]

I got my first pay cheque. * finally! something that I really did earn.*

I pledged my eyes. *now I can live on forever. in parts. right!*

My boss decides to quit the job she's been at, and loved for the past 4 years. For another one that pays double the money. *wow. will I have to wait that long?*

I joined a month ago, am still learning the ropes. I still am a bit lost. N now my mentor, so as to speak, quits. *how could she?*

I decided to stay on, tackle the work head on. So I've to learn faster. But it'd be more fun. *aint I such a fighter*

As I said, all in one happy week's work. Seven days. World does a turn around 7 times. *SO?*

One Weak Slap!

2006-08-07T17:54:00.000+05:30

I've always maintained that we live in a very funny world, with some very funny people in it, who have a very funny way of dealing with the problems that life throws them into.

Read this article in The Times of India the other day. About this new buses that the BMTC is planning to bring out. Check it out. These are gonna be 2 new 'prototypes'. One is gonna be exclusively for women. And its gonna be painted, yup u guessed it, in a happy shade of pink. Wonder if it'll have some fancy mirrors attached to every window that the women can use to touch up their make up too.

The other one is even better. This is gonna be this ultra progressive bus, that's gonna have a partition in the middle. The seats in the front are going to be for women, and the one in the back for men. The bus will also have 3 doors- one in the front, one in the back, and another in the middle (u'd wonder were they are gonna put the seats). Men and women are gonna enter thru the middle doors, which are of course gonna have a partition, so that there is no contact between the 2, and for exit, men use the back door and women use the front door. Pretty neatly done huh?

This is how the govt, And the BMTC react to the endless complaints by women of harrasement n molestation. I travel by these BMTC buses...every single working day. So I know what it means. In the past one month that I've started working, in an office far far away from my place, taking 2 diff buses back an forth. And quite honestly, travelling by bus is no joy ride. You gotta travel with sexually frustrated assholes who think because the bus is crowded, and there's hardly place to breath, its a happy opportunity to feel up women, grab watever part of their body they fancy and do all other kind of pathetic assholery. These Sick morons make my blood boil. The worst insult is that there little you can do about. The only revenge u get is a pathetic attempt at counter attact...I use my nails to maul their skin away. Make sure that they need shit loads of anti-septic when they get off the bus. N pray that it becomes septic. I have punched these on their stomachs, stamped their feet before as I get down. But what use are these, when you can't even see the freakkin face of the jerk?

It pisses me off. This "chaltha hai" attitude. This pawing. There's no point trying to complain to bus conductors. They will yell, create a scene outta it, then the entire bus will leer at you, and you end up wishing you had just kept your mouth shut in the first place.

But still when I read bout these proposed remedies, I was more amused than relieved. I have never considered myself a feminist. I don't think all women are "abala naaries" who need to fight for their rights. And no, I don't think all men are jerks either(they are just li'l stupid :D) . Which is why this move amused me so much.

The way I see it, it's a pretty big insult to a man's intelligence, and his ability to conduct himself. It like telling the whole mankind (and I mean only man-kind(!)) that you do not know how to behave like mature adults, so we are gonna deal with you the way we deal with pre-school children. We are gonna set the rules of conduct for you which you will not question, but will only follow like a bunch of imbeciles, incapable of rational or intelligent thought. Period.

When there was this furor with the burkha deal and Sania Mirza, there was this very sensible comment that I heard someone make. It was by Mr. John Thomas, the editor of the Vijay Times, B'lore, who was talking to us in our journalism class. He said that he objects to the imposition of the burkha on women, quite simply because it preassumes guilt on his side. "It is saying that I cannot control myself when I see a woman, and I resent that."

So the men of B'lore, the way I see it, these new buses are quite a vocal insult to your sensibilities. You can keep yourself from feeling up a woman, when you stand next to one. You require a physical barrier to keep your slimy hands to yourself, so that is just what you get.

My comment one the move? One word! Pathetic!

All In a Day's Work- Episode I

2006-08-04T17:11:00.000+05:30

Heard in the offices of a very enterprising event management company, in a very enterprising city.

Caramel Custard: "Finally! I got him!"

Alge Eyes: "Sure he's dead?"

CC: "Yeah...now I'm feeling all guilty bout it. What if he's married? What if he came out to fetch lunch for his wife??? What if she's pregnant??? What if they have twins? Gulp!! I orphaned them da! How will they survive??"

ME: "Sigh! CC, they will just drink ur own blood to suvive. And when they do that, we'll just squish them too. Or maybe now that you've killed the dad, the pregnant female will just committ suicide out of sorrow and save you the trouble. Don't give it another thought. After all, who's gonna miss a mosquito???"

PS. This post was so long due. Joined work a month ago, and since then, crazy conversations keep happening. Guess my worthy crazy collegues deserve a proper introduction. Well! Next post!!

Me Myself and Moi again- Everybody says I'm not fine

2006-07-26T18:12:00.000+05:30

Ohhh, if there’s one thing I hang onto,
It gets me through the night.
I aint gonna do what I don’t want to,
Im gonna live my life.
Shining like a diamond, rolling with the dice,
Standing on the ledge, show the wind how to fly.
When the world gets in my face,
I say, Have A Nice Day.
Have A Nice Day

From the posts that I ve been putting up, everyone seems to be thinking that I'm going through a major depression cycle.

Well, can't really say that this is the happiest time of my life, but its not sad either. In fact it's mostly good. Just that sorrow always affects yoy more than happiness does, isn't it.
Our misfortunes are more easily counted than our blessings.

I never have claimed that I was sane. Or not weird. Some kid once told me that I'm the happiest person she knows. My best friend thinks I'm quite moody. One of my teachers has told me that I should be a little less serious. Someone told me that I'm very laconic. Others think that I cannot shut up for long enough.

I'm a bundle of contradictions. There are a lot of things that I believe...things that I hold on to. And I've realised, more than once, that if I pitt all these things against eah other, most of them will just cancel each other out. That has never bothered me...the fact that I belive in contradictory ideas. And this one fact that I dont have to reason myself out, has kept me sane. Or whatever semblence of sane.

I'm not too emotional, in the sense, I'm not the one to proclaim my love from roof tops. My crushes last all of a month. They never grow into anything serious quite simply because I refuse to let them control me. If there is someone for whom I feel something for, and that other person does not reciprocate it, I'm not gonna pine away for that. Maybe that's why I never fall in love.

But I do get hurt. Pretty easy. But I get over it too. I don't let that spoil my life for more than 2 days at a strech...okay maybe a week. Again, my best friends disagrees. She says that I never let go. Okay so I dont. When ever something goes wrong, I always see a parallel. So? I can't change the past. I don't try to, just simply coz I don't want to. But I don't let the past pull me down. If a friend walks out on me, I don't feel miserable thinking what we had, and what it's become now. I can think back and appreciate, and feel happy bout what we had, while not feeling let down, angry or depressed. This, for 'you know who' and SK.

I don't regret anything in my life. NOTHING. The gud, bad, the crazy, beautiful, all are just as welcome memories, moments. I can move past anything...friends walking out of my life, me walking out of theirs, losing, winning, the whole deal. But I never let go anything that has been a part of my life. Something, someone that/who once enters my mind, stays. It, they become a part of me. Period.

When I depressed, I write stuff like this. But then I may also write stuff like this. If one post of mine funny (ok attempt at funny) the next may be depressed.

So I've a split personality. As someone said, "You got a problem, precious?"

Breaking news

2006-07-26T17:34:00.000+05:30

Li'l Prince's ordeal became national news. For the weekend, the whole county was holding on to the progress in Kurkshethra. Every news channel worth its salt was there, every newspaper was right on it. Forwards on mails, sms, the whole deal.

Are we so starved for human drama? It reminded me of this short story BU put in our Eng. Lit syllabus. This story was of this one story of a kid, a gal, who's stuck in quick sand in an area struck with earthquake. And of a journalist, as he stays by her side for 3 days, waiting for the govt. to do something to save her. And then slowly watch her die...

This time it was more of a happier ending...n I'm really glad that it is. But really makes me wonder if we are so starved of suffering like this...

Any news guy would tell u that this makes excellent TV. A poor young kid, stuck in a horrific scene, battling for life n death, and all that jazz. Bumbling officials, weeping parents, the whole deal. And a nation hooked. Human interest story...the question is, which human are we talkiing bout here?

2006-07-21T14:37:00.000+05:30

"I like to get drenched in the rain because people don't realise that I'm actually crying.... "

-Charlie Chaplin

What am I turning into?

2006-07-05T16:12:00.000+05:30

One of the hardest things you can do is to let a friend go. Harder than that perhaps is walking away from someone who once had been your friend.

I did both today. Or perhaps, it happened long ago. I just realised it today. N I don't feel a thing.

I'm going back...to that weird sort of numbness that I had worked so hard to get out of.

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, things refuse to be worked out. Sometimes, you have to let go. So I did. Not because I didnt care. But because I wanted to be able to look back without having a bad taste in my mouth. I didn't want it to end with a fight. I didnt want it to end in way that I will never be able to think of him as a friend again. So I ended it...in my own terms.

I'm being selfish. But then, I always have been. I had to preserve my sanity. For what I don't know. But isn't it better to end it, rather than let it rot and die?

You stay friends with some people. No matter what they make you go through. No matter what you make them go through. N then, there are those, with whom you just cannot stay friends. No matter how much you try. No matter how much they try. Is there any point in pretending you can still be friends when you are sure you can't? It's one of those things....

When do you decide it's time to end a friendship? When you have a sneaking feeling that it never really began...or so I read somewhere, sometime back. Think it was in Reader's Digest. Really?

Woke up with an empty feeling. Should have known.

Don't bother bout this post. It's just ramblings of a schizophrenic mind

Elfish Tale

2006-06-27T18:27:00.000+05:30

It’s funny how the world works. Sometimes, all it takes is a very everyday event to make you realize that all this while; you had just been looking, without really seeing.

Little waifs selling nick-knacks at traffic intersections is a very everyday sight, at lest in this mighty country of contradictions. In fact we’ve become so used to them, that they kind of have become like house elves in a Harry Potter book- always scuttling about, but never really visible.

I was at the intersection near the Forum in Koramangala that day. While waiting for the traffic from the other end to stop, I noticed this little punk across the road. He looked like spirited imp, in his rather over-sized clothes, well worn, of that murky urchin colour, that is not quite grey, not entirely brown. Now, this one was prancing happily in this side, with his sack of sellables, till he reached a waiting car. Then suddenly his happy expression changed. It became desperate, desolate picture of the poor hungry urchin on the road. The homeless, hapless orphan, forced to the streets, in an age when he should have been in school. Transformation was complete and he played his part well.

As the light turned green again, he hopped back to his elfish oblivion again, clutching the loose change in his hand, waiting for the next traffic light, next transformation.

As I watched this li’l drama I realized that what I felt for this kid was not sympathy. It was a strange kind of respect. This child, all of perhaps six, had already learnt to live, he had learnt that important lesson in life that most of us don’t, at least not until it’s too late. That this world allows the survival, only of the fittest.

He had figured that he lives in a world that not only is unfair, but is also never unfair in his favour. Had accepted that to live, he had to put on an act. So life pulled a past one on him, he just had to pull a faster one on life.

It’s funny how the world works. Most of us- the so called “privileged kids”- are expected to be good at dealing with challenges of life. That’s what we are trained for by parents, drilled at school by teachers. We are told what to expect in the “real world”, and for nearly 15-20 years, trained to face it. But still, when the fabled reality finally strikes, most of us are knocked silly.

No one warned these kids. No one trained them to face the “real world”. They were born into it. It’s the only one they know. Yet they deal with it, everyday, day after day.

These li’l elves are survivors. Brave brand of fighters whom no one applauds, no one thinks of giving award to. And they do it without whining. Because they know no alternative. They live their lives, from one stop at the intersection to another.

2006-06-23T20:26:00.000+05:30

Who's love is more true, whose faith is more strong...the one who would die for it, or the one who would kill ofr it?

U Know U Are In Kerala Again

2006-06-22T19:29:00.000+05:30

Well, was there again! Plus this seems to be the season for sequels. Ice Age 2, X-Men 3 ( The Last Stand, apparently. From now on, they sit. Ok, sorry, real PJ), n if you thought sequels and trilogies were boring, there's always Ocean's Thirteen (now this has possibilities, I'll be looking forward to an Ocean's 56, but that's next year), KKRISHHH (er...no comments!). So I wouldn't want my poor humble blog to feel left out would I? So after the phenomenal (spelled wrong??gosh!don't tell anyone I studied Eng Lit in coll!!) sucess of the original post (yeah right!) here's the much awaited sequel (actually not, but what the heck, no one's gonna sue me for saying that)

So, u know that u are in Kerala again, when,

U notice that though most school don't extend their uniforms to shoes, they will however, insist that girls wear big fat ribbons on there thick coconut oiled black hair.

There will be atleast 3 strikes/bandhs/harthals every month. If everyone's having a busy month they may settle for just a 'panni-mudakku' or only one harthal. And they are all different things by definition mind you, even though, eventually it is just a reason to be lazy.

All the shops will be closed by 7 p.m, 8, if you happen to live in the most happening part of the town.

You will find Mohanlal, or Mammootti, or Kavya Madhavan grinning at you from top of sign boards of every other shop. Current favourite, I believe is Prithviraj, even though he is faaar behind dear old Lalettan (copyright violation, owe this to Sreejith)

You start confusing saree shops...er showrooms, or jewelleries with shopping malls. How very stupid of you. Just because the the saree showrooms n jewelleries are spread across spaces as big as a football stadium, and are 5 floors high, each specialised for a specific kind of saree or jewellery, customised for your comfort, does NOT mean that you think they are shopping malls. Seriously, they should give out store maps that have a red cross marked saying 'you are here' and another one saying 'you'd want to get your ass here' before they let people into a Joy Allukas or a Kalyan silks or sundry other mazes pretending to be showrooms.

This is the sure shot way of knowing that u really are in Kerala. You will find 'showrooms' for umbrellas, with high-tech umbies that come in all shapes, colours n sizes possible- With lights, with automatic open-shut buttons, hands-free ones, that sing when you open them, ones that jump up and do a li'l polka dance when u close them. And there will be familiy loyalties running across generations towards a particular brand name. Their ad campaigns can give Coke n Pepsi run for their money. "Mazza Mazza, Kudaa Kudaa. Mazza vannal Popy Kudaa"

This again more applicable for Kottayam-Cochin side. Every small town junction will have a 'Kurishupalli' regardless of whether there is a real 'palli' (for non-mallus, that's church) around or not.

People will still stare if you wear jeans and a short tee. Sometimes if are really unlucky you will meet jerks who will leer at you in such a way that you wonder if u have you cloths inside out, or if ur fly's open. :( :(

You will find atleast 2 bus stands in every town, no matter how small the town is- one for 'private buses' and another for 'transport buses'(these are KSRTC buses). Nevermind the fact that both the buses are used for 'transport' :D

Buses will have bells, with a loong rope running through one side, that the conductor can tug, to signal stop or go to the driver. One ring means stop, two to go. Pretty innovative :)

Killies. No, I don't mean the winged variety. This is the post given to that additional guy in most of the 'private buses' in Kerala. Why a guy would want his job description to mean 'small bird' is beyond me, but this is ur friendly neighbourhood chap who stands on the bus ka steps, helps the passengers climb in n climb out, helps poor ladies by pulling up their luggage into the bus, helps old ladies, by pulling them into the bus, n also tries mild forms of firting with pretty young things. Generally tells u to move in, make space for others, hold on for dear life. Tells the driver when to stop, when to move on. Very unique, n very special to Kerala.

There will be associations, and cooperative societies for everything. Last time I went, the state conference for the all Kerala bakers' association, innovatively named "Bake' was being held in Ernakulam. 8

To God's own country...And to His own humour sense ! :)

Things To Do Before I Die

2006-05-29T17:15:00.000+05:30

This is not a tag...I jus wanted to put it down. Dreams, all of us have them. Different dreams. Some of them change as we grow up. Some don't. Most of them may remain jus that- dreams. And some come true. I've got my own list...things I really really wanna do before I die...n thanks moi, for this post.

Go to Venice...
I've always wanted to, ever since I found out bout this place for the first time. And that was when I was in 2nd std. Travel in a gondola, with the gondolier singing his song...in a language I dont understand, the feeling I may. There is no one in particular I wanna go with...but if I have someone along with me, I'd wanted it to be someone who'd understand what I see....

Get completely drunk
I drink, but I dont get drunk. Because I dont like making a fool outta myself, in front of people. So I wanna get so drunk, that I dunno what I am doing. I wanna kiss a complete stranger, hurl abuses, dance like a girl possessed.

Trust someone with my life
I've issues with trust. I let people close, but not too close. I trust my friends, but if u lose my trust once, then its difficult to get it back. People I've really really trusted ve let me down before. But I've also lived with it, n not be bothered too much. For once I wanna trust someone with everything I've...so much that I that trust breaks, I will too. For good.

Fall in love
Madly. Completely. It'd be nice if the guy I fell in love with feels the same bout me too. But even if he doesn't, I still wanna get to know that crazy/beautiful feeling that everyone's so ga-ga about. I wanna feel what it is like to feel SO much for a person. To care so much, that everything else feels inconsequential.

Become a columnist
I wanna write. No, I have to write.That is the one single passion I ve in life. Only thing that I really, fiercely care about. And I like people to read what I write. That was the reason for journalism, but the cynicism of those in the profession shook me. I didnt wanna become someone who lost the joy in life. So well, a columnist. So I can write what I want to. Talk about things I care, without restrictions, or editors to please.

Make my parents proud
I mean really, really proud. So far, I've always followed my dreams. Unfortunately, my dreams dont match with those of my parents'. They'd rather have me be successful the unconventional way. But they have never forced me to do something I wouldn't like. They have always given me options, told me what they'd like me to chose, but left me the option of choosing the other. And supported me. And, been proud in my acheivement. But I know that somewhere in their hearts, they still wish for a different daughter. And that hurts. So for once, I wanna do something that will make them proud, n really really happy-proud. I dunno what that is...but someday...

Travel all around the country...alone
I wanna see whole of this country that I so proud of. N not thru the eyes of a tour guide. Not through a package luxury tour. I wanna get a jeep, pack off few cloths in a back pack, n go see the hearts of India...the forests in Assam, leh, go trekking, walking in the woods, live with locals in an obsecure village hidden away from the modern world...

Get a house by a beach...
Not a crowded beach. Not a huge house. Just some place where I can sit out on the porch, n see the waves wash up. Where I can sit with a mug of coffee in my hand, watch the rain drops fall in the sea n be lost. Where I can talk the night away...feel all n nothing...

Free fall...
bunjee jump into the water...

Learn how to swim...

Make someone's life worthwhile...

Adopt a child...

Buy ice cream for a kid on the road...

Write a love story...

Get lost in a strange country n be rescued by a kind stranger...

Be stranded in a Forrest...

Meet a murderer...

Live...n then die...n see who all come to my funeral. Who all cry. N who all say, thank god...

The Biggest Reality Show Ever…

2006-05-05T16:24:00.001+05:30

There are some days that just knock u off your feet. Some days when u just wake up with a smile on our face, not really knowing that it will the only one on your face the entire day. Some days when everything just seems to go wrong, as though the whole universe just conspired to make you feel utterly miserable. That was last Sunday. And that was the last post.

Ever get this feeling that you’re watching your own life happen from outside? No, I don’t mean to ask if u have suffered a mild case of dissassociative disorder. Just that at times, u just feel that things happening to you, are not really happening to u. they are not really real. Well, if you have never felt that way, I’d request u to stop reading right here. I wouldn’t want u to think that I’m a raving lunatic. Neither do I want to put ideas into your head.

Well, this feeling that I get once in a while, often gets me thinking. What the hell is reality anyways. Who decides what is real n what is science fiction? I mean, matrix could be real. So could Hogwarts. Sure, now u are thinking, “ Yeah right, and the moon is made of blue cheese, n clouds are made of kurlo pillows. This kid’s gone way off the rocker.” Its convenient right? We have made categories for everyone to fit in. Even for those who don’t want to- they are the miss-fits. The radicals. If someone says or believes in something that doesn’t fit into the system, they are immediately cast away as schizophrenics, maniacs. The Not-normals.

This brings us back to my original question. Who decides what is normal? Whose reality are we living anyways? I remember one day in college, tsu, me and killi had this HUGE debate over this. Well, mostly it was killi n me, with tsu trying placate me, while supporting killi’s view. Killi claimed that reality was quite simply what she could see, feel, touch n hear. I countered that so does a schizophrenic, so why is that called hallucination? She counter-countered that, well what a schizo’s reality is something that only he can see. But her reality is something that all of us can…she, me, tsu, the guy sitting in the adjacent bench trying to evesdrop, all of us. So well, I asked, then that simply means that your reality is dependant on the corroboration of others. Which when simply put can just mean that whatever the majority thinks, believes, and says, becomes the reality. It may be wrong, but then u gotta live with it.

This brings us to another favourite theory of mine. That this big, beautiful world of ours, runs on a few sets of parameters. And on the assumption that every man, woman, n child, accept n believe in those parameters. These parameters may not always make sense, but they are essential building blocks of our world. If they crumble, we crumble. So when some enlightened soul stands up to question them, it becomes necessary for us to label them as crazy, so that we don’t have to grope in the darkness for answers. Because we are quite happy to live with the answers that we already have. So well, if we believe that matrix is a reality, it kinda burdens us with a need to take a stand. Do we, go on as we did even after knowing the truth? Or do we, like Neo, fight for freedom? Choice…it’s not just our greatest gift, it is also our biggest burden. We chose our reality. We chose what we want to believe. And we chose to be who we are. Reality, my friend, is a myth. It’s all in your head…zombie.

Trapped inside my head

2006-04-30T18:05:00.000+05:30

All my life I've been sitting n crying behind the very walls that I slammed shut....
Coz of course don't want the world to see me weak
Wonder what I'm so scared of?
What I'm running away from...
Wish there'd be someone to say, that no matter how hard I try to make them, they'll never leave.
I got to stop dreaming.
I got to stop driving myself crazy.
I feel trapped inside myself.
I gotta free fall....
Shit!

Caution! Wet Floor!

2006-04-25T19:43:00.000+05:30

Techological development goes boink

Check out the scenario:

Early morning, some 2 n half years ago, I get a “Good Morning!” forward on my newly acquired cell. “Subah ho gayi maamu!” it blithely declared. In full fervor of the days of unlimited messaging, I proceeded to forward the happy message to all my dear buddies. Select forward, sent to many, name 1, press Ok, message sent, name 2, press OK, message sent, name 3, press Ok, message se…wait a minute! Not Ok! NOT OK!!! Name 3 is not a friend, it’s my lecturer!! Oh o! Please God, no! Please don’t go! Please don’t go! Blink comes on the light, “Message Sent”. All that is left for me to do is to pray, real, real hard that the lecturer in concern is not too concerned. (Well turned out he wasn’t, n no I’m NOT telling u his name!)

In the era of star wars and matrix fundas, even the communication blunders have become tech savvy. WIRED magazine has actually coined a term to describe this ominous time between hitting the ‘send’ button on your e-mail and realizing to your utter horror that you have sent it to the wrong person. It’s called the ‘onosecond’ (from the numerous ‘oh nos!’ that go up as the horrible reality hits you!). Well, sure makes sense.

It’s quite startling to think about the amount of things that can and more often than not, will go wrong, because of one wrong click. People have lost their jobs; relationships that took years to build have been ruined.

Technology is supposed to have made communications easier, quicker. But it also has made it easier to lay booby traps to catch innocent mortals who have less than a PhD in “How to Save Thyself from Being Fooled By Technology.” Take the example of my click happy roomie, who back in her school days, got this mail asking for a few personal details (stuff like ur crush n things that could be deadly if it reaches the wrong hands in school), with a promise of a horoscope. She being the gullible sort gave it all away. As she clicked ‘ok’ horoscope turned into horror scope as the message flashed across the screen, “This information has been sent to the person who sent you this link!”. Now I needn’t really explain what followed in school the next day. Well it did motivate her to take up a career in IT though!

It’s not just your meanie friends, even IT companies resort to similar dealings to keep a check on what their employees download from their free internet access at office. There are softwares to store all that you download from the net to a separate site. Those simple Ctrl A+ Ctrl C+Ctrl V that all of us use indiscriminately, caused one unfortunate Infy guy his job.

So also with the zillions of other things that we do under the illusion that we are safe in the relative anonymity and untracability of the www. But you will never know how those nasty comments that u, in a moment of devilish inspiration posted on u oh-so-funny blog, about that friend, that boos or teacher, can turn into one unholy mess if the victim of ur brilliant wit stumbles upon it. Plus once you post it in the cyber space, you really have no control over who reads it. You maybe sharing something personal with a friend, and suddenly everyone with a computer had heard about it. Suddenly ‘copyright’ seems such a redundant word.

For the terminally scatty and pathologically careless (like me, for instance), the very things that geeks love about technology are its many traps. Sometimes it can be as simple as forgetting to lock the keypad of your mobile before u put it in your pocket or bag. And then, speed dialing takes over, and lo and behold! You’ll suddenly find your balance going down the drain at drastic speed and your poor mom bellowing “Hello! Hello!” at the other end.

It’s quite ironical that for a generation that grew up on e-mails n sms, laughs heartily while watching their parents struggle with their mobiles, still fall into so many traps. We need to realize that no technology can ever be foolproof, because a. it is after all an outgrowth of the human brain, and b. lets face it, fools can really be indigenous (!).

Technology should probably come with a statutory warning, “Proceed with extreme caution, slippery ground ahead!” You can never be sure you know better. Take it from a person who, due to a childhood problem of short attention span, ahs gone through a lot of technology aided tragedies. For all who think they have seen it all, beware! Technology’s lurking around the corner!

CHICKEN!!!!!!!

2006-04-18T16:48:00.000+05:30

Well oh well! Life can be funny at times. Well, most of the times actually. In Jan, my very old friend came down with chicken pox. Just a day before she was supposed to join for a much awaited job. Preventive medicines. Dose 1. Last months my brother came down with chicken pox. Just a day before he was going back to Mumbai after a break, n extended leave form office. Preventive medicine. Dose 2 AND 3. This month I came down with chicken pox. A day after I tried to book tickets to come home for Vishu. Brilliant!

Well, not much harm done though. Perfect timing actually. My pracs start on the 26th. If this had hit a week later, I'd have been in serious trouble. I went to Ooty 3 days before. Had it hit me those 3 days ago, a lot people would have been in serious trouble.

Getting sick, beyond some common cold, can actaully be quite an experience. Getting chicken pox sure makes u appreciate the little, n not very often noticed joys of life. Like the smell of soap n water on ur skin for instance. Or the freedom to go anyplace, talk to anyone. Or having paani puri with friends.

It makes u appreciate the people around u. The fact that it never occured to ur parents that ur falling sick spoilt their Vishu. Instead, they were just happy that, u were there at home with them...chicken pox and all. And that ur bro, tried to immitate, n fail spectacularly, ur chicken act that u did to tease him wen he was down with it, whenever he called. N that he called twice a day, n told ur mother to put rakthachandanam(red sandelwood?) with honey, to remove the marks-which apparently worked for his friend(!).

It makes u really really glad, that ur friends came to see u, take a long detour, from their way home after a tiring day at work. That they came out of their hostel, in the nite to see u off. Or that they call, to laugh at u for so long that u really give up and laugh with them at ur "sad plight" :)

I used to always boast/complain that I've never really had a serious diesease. All I used to get was irritatingly common colds, fevers, n endless headaches. Life's funny at times. Infact, most of the times. So is chicken pox. :)

Sleep and Sensibility!

2006-04-04T19:25:00.000+05:30

A tale of love, booze n Prince Charming!

We went to Ooty this weekend. We, being 8 of us. Well it ought to have been the mother of all unplanned trips. I didn’t even know that I’d be going till Thursday night, and on Friday night, we were already off! We almost went to Koorge, but eventually landed up in Ooty anyways. But well, this post is not to describe how unplanned, but good this trip was. Or how beautiful that place was. This post is dedicated to something that has always intrigued me, ever since I had my first meeting with them- Well, relationships.

I certainly wouldn’t qualify as a relationship expert. N no, I certainly am not trying to give love advice ( Who would, after having such disastrous experiences experimenting with it). I have never been in a serious relationship. My only claim to that realm, is a hardly 2 months long thing…which well, I still am not too sure how to describe in a “relationshipically correct” way. I knew, when it began that it would never get any where. While it lasted I was happy. When it ended I was still happy. I’m glad it ended when it did. And I’m glad we still could remain friends after that. At least for sometime.

But then that’s not the point either. I’ve never been in a so called serious relationship, but I know many people, who are, n many who claim to be. But one thing that’s always interesting to watch is, the way people act, when they are trying to head towards one. The phase, when people tell their friends, “he’s just a friend”, “we hardly know each other, but she definitely is different from the other gals”, “I dunno where this is headed” n blah.

Now if u are wondering what connection this has with Ooty, then let me explain. Well, on Saturday night, after the whole day of sight seeing, all of us returned home, tired n sleepy. The gals (that’s me n Theoti), and a couple of guys, where jus wanted to hit the sack. Couple of other guys, (that’s Eiffel tower, Mr. Would-Be Considerate (WBC), n our dear BOA) had plans to drink. In the end, all of us, except for A Cheta, decided to stay awake for a bit. After a while, the talk somehow steered towards relationships. Guess it was the booze for them n lack of sleep for us that did it!! Think it began with Mr.WBC commenting that Theoti n BOA make a very cute couple :)

So we were talking about how, in the first six months or so, it’s always about trying to impress the other. I’ve always wondered why. If u wanted someone to like u, or even fall in love with u, how does acting like someone u’re not, help? The guy or the gal in question, may go out with u, but isn’t leading that person on? And as a consequence u end up making compromises even after the first six months of so called courting (eurgh!! I can’t believe I said courting! I need to reassure u that, under normal circumstances, I certainly am not the kinds to use words like that!!!). It is at this point of the discussion that I said, “ If u pretend to be someone else, to make someone fall in love with u, u end up risking either living a lie your entire life, or losing the other person, when he or she realizes that u’re not the person he or she fell in love with.” ( God! My own brilliance surprises me at times!! ;D

It is true right? What’s the point in all that dressing up, and acting nice, pretending to be the Mr. or Miss Ideal?? I think that all those fairy tales, that we were fed while we were kids, lead us to believe that there really is a Prince Charming to rescue us out of the hopless normalcy of our lives. Or a Sleeping beauty who needs u to wake her up inside, and save her from the nothing she’s become ( copyrights still reserved to Evanescence). Or that happily ever after is not possible without these semi divine creatures.

In truth, all we need for that happily ever after is a wee bit of honesty, little love, respect, n lets face it, endless patience and a hell lot of luck!! And this philosophy will save u, not only a lot of heart break but all that money too. But of course, u’d miss out all the fine tuning u get for that admission into the National Institute of Drama!!

Ms. Know-It-All said : So much for sensibility. Hope my Prince Charming comes to know about it!! ;)

Looking back to where it all began

2006-03-31T16:41:00.000+05:30

My second post....rather my first real post. These days I seem to be spending quite a bit of time refreshing memories...be it while filling those endless scrap books, or finding my old school community in orkut, or actually visiting that old school when I went home. So thought will do that here too...well, plus that also hides the fact that I just too lazy to post...

"I thought I'd start with me. i'm...well...confused! clueless more precisely! there was a time,not so long ago when i thought that i knew who i'm. and then life took over! life, for some inexplicable reason decided that enough was enough, n i, this teeny tiny(well, not SO tiny perhaps!) being in this big bad world, should not be allowed to have such huge misconceptions about myself. so it (i'll settle for 3rd person, coz i'm not sure if life's gal or a guy) made my "higher mental processes" in motion...that's just a fancy way of saying that i started pondering over things (well my dear close friends call it "brooding over nonsense" n "thinking too much" n other such less flattering names, but lets not get into that right now). and THEN i realised that there is a hell lot that i dont know bout myself. i thought i was a pretty mature person, but then why do my feelings seem so trivial and kiddish at times? i thought i was strong, but then how come i get so easily hurt at times? how can i be friends who, are not only totally different from me, but are opposites to each other too? how can i hate mush in real life, but still enjoy romantic comedies? hell i didnt even know what my fav colour was! (ahem...i still can't make up my mind on that!!!)...since then i've been always trying to figure me out...well without much success, fortunately or unfortunately!

anyways, it's been kinda fun being me though! have had a pretty decent life so far...so i can tell u the basics. was born to malayalee parents, which makes me a keralite...n for a good nine years of my life i was in gud ol' kerala. but in 4 diff cities though. my dad has a transferable job, so every three years we all(that's me, my dad, my ma, n a bro) pack our bags n hopp to the next place that becokns. this kind of a gypsy's life suited me. we got to see, n learn a lot of things that people who are permanently rooted in a place miss out on...diffrent people, different cultures, n blah like that. but cant say it come without a price...i've no sense of stability in life, in the sense, there is no place that i call home, coz that has always changed, before i could make any permanent affections. home's just where my folks are, n that's gud enough for me actually.

well, schools...went to KVs mostly, then a brief 2 years in a public school in delhi, n nw in college, doing what i wanted to do since i was 8 years old...journalism. n here again is the catch. i fought with my whole clan, who like all gud mallus believe that engineering n medicine are the only decent profession for any kid to take up, to get into journalism. n now, after 2 n a half years, i'm not sure! can u beat that?well, i knw for sure that i wanna be a part for this huge world of media, but am i ready to take on the cynicism that is part an parcel, n these days the main component of journalism? dunno...well i've another 6 months to decide. n well, there is still hope! that, think is enough bout me in a post. even i cant take too much of me so there!

cheers to life(u see, beyond the confusion n crap, i still love IT! ;)

posted by moontalk @ 7:25 AM

Well, that was 8 months ago...not much has changed now either. I'm still clueless about me, n well...still completely in love with life! So much for old memories!! :)

Think bout it

2006-03-29T21:16:00.000+05:30

"ITS BETTER TO BE HATED FOR WHAT YOU ARE THAN TO BE LOVED FOR WHAT YOU ARE NOT"
Not my words. But it's one of the most basic truths of life. And as most basic truths go, the most difficult to accept.

U Know U Re In Kerala When....

2006-03-22T12:22:00.000+05:30

This post is dedicated entriely to the good old God's own country. N my own state!!!
It's actually pretty easy to figure out when u reach Kerala. I mean, other than that u'll see green all around. Few pointers though. Non-mallus please excuse. Mallus, please dont beat me up!!!

U Know U Re In Kerala When...

U see all the chetas n ungles on the road wearing their shirts tucked out, full sleeves, unfailingly (is that a real word???) folded up, regardless of whether they are wearing trousers or gud ol' mundu

All chechies n aundies with hair shining black with coconut oil, n a gold chain around their neck

Compound walls of all houses will carry painted advertisements, or the words "evide parasiyam pathikeruthe"- "stick no bills"

Every house, regardless of the size, will have one maavu, one thengu, n if possibel one plaavu

Every other house will have the roof made of oodu (mangalore tiles, i think!!). The modern ones, will have a cemented roof, with oodu fixed on top...chumma oru ethinic style ;)

Every second hoadring on the road will advertise some jewellery shop "Bhima Gold, Pure Gold"

There will be more bakeries, sorry, "bakers" than medical stores.

Shops will have names like Vee Tee, n Kay Bee, Jay Yem. (seriously!!!)

There will be more private buses on the road than KSRTC ones, And every single one of them will be lovingly christened "Robin" or "Shlimar" or "Gurudeva", or if u re in Cochin- Kottayam side, it will be "St.George", "St.Jude", "St.Joeseph".

Oh well, guess thats what makes this place so damn special!
No place like home!!!

BOREDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-03-18T17:00:00.000+05:30

I'm bored! I'm bored! I'm lazy! I'm lazy AND bored!!
Man! I'm going nuts here!!!
Got nothing to do, but too lazy to post nething new. So well, am reposting my old ones.
This ought to be depths of boredome.

ODE TO THE...LOO!!!

Archemedies (wonder if that's really hw the dude spells his name...newayz he's been happy n dead for quite a bit nw so I guess I can effectively rule out the risk of getting sued! ;)) hit upon his most insightful insight wen he was lying, stark naked in his lovely bathtub. He was so overjoyed by this discovery that he had no time to remember more mundane things like cloths n stuff, as he ran through the beautiful streets of ancient Greece (or was it Rome?? Lord I NEED to brush up my history...or is it science?? watever...gk man!!! but I do think it was Greece), shouting, "Eureka!Eureka!", all the while being happily naked. The then citizens of Greece (Rome?) musta thought that watever was it that Sir Archemedies eurekaed, it most definitely was not his cloths.

But not to go off track, ever wondered it were possible, that there actually could be a reason for him hitting on the mighty insight wen he was exactly where he was...ie. the bathroom? Now if u're done laughing at the idea, take a minute to think, where u hit on ur brightest ideas? (that's, of course, assuming that, u do hit upon bright ideas). Think think. I'm sure now that smirk on ur face is swalpa fading.

I asked this question to a bunch of my friends. Couple of them gave quite vague answers like, 'no place in particular' n 'I dont think'. One soul even went as far as his house down in Kerala, among the paddy fields, under some mango tree or some. But most responses were, 'in the shower', 'the bathroom' or 'on top of u-can-guess-what' (for the dunces who didnt get it, it begins with a p n ends with a y, n has one 0 n 2 ts in between).

I, for one, can admit without a mearest trace of doubt that most of my AHA experiences (nw if u dont knw wat an AHA experience is, refer to 'Understanding Psychology', edition 4, chapter 8, page 268), either wen I was in the shower or wen I'm attending one of nature's early morning calls. So, is it all a mear coincidence that all our flash bulb moments happen in the hidden walls of the bathroom or did God actually give us that place to explore n exercise much more that our bowels n our vocal chords (for singing I mean)?

Maybe the reason lies in the fact that the loo is the only place, in the whole grand world, where u go completely n truely alone. I mean u sure do not want someone staring at u while u go about the merry business of emptying ur system. The shower...er...well there maybe people who wouldnt mind company, but thats a COMPLETELY diffrent story altogether, so we shalt jst ignore tat tiny hitch for now. So, wat u get it is TOTAL n uninterupted privacy, so that ur toughts can flow daintily as a river. Unless u've an irritating sibling or a roomie whose digestive clock works in perfect tandom with urs, in which case u've loud bangs on the door accompanied by rude n unflattering threats.

N its also the only time wen u're stripped bare of all ur masks that come with the business of living, the only time wen u dont ve to act all proper proper n dignified n grown-uppish. The only time u can be jst YOU. N no one's gonna hold it against u. Or judge u.
So is it a big wonder,that u can reason clearly, understand things that u never considered before, wen u re stripped bare (quite literally!) of the layers of pretensions of everyday life?Maybe the warmth of a shower, that cleases u off the dirt n muck, clears ur mind too off the clutter, n takes with it all the stress n fatigue down the drain, leaving ur grey cells refreshed. So next time it feels all confused n muddled up in ur upper storey , just go take that shower!

Ms.Know- it- all said: Nature's calling! Where re u??? Cheers!

Scrap n scroll

2006-02-23T15:48:00.000+05:30

Its was almost the end of coll, n scrap books had already started doing rounds, as early as a month ago. I'd convinced myself that, I didn't believe in those. If u need me to write in your scrap book to remember me, then you needn't remember me at all I said. I even refused to write for a coupla guys. Then when everyone kept asking, n some pretended to take offence, I gave up. Strated religiously singing all the scrap books that came my way.

But what can u possibly write for people whom u really don't know? I hate the idea of niceties..."it was great knowing u"," have a brilliant life", "don't forget me", "will miss u", blah blah blah. Never saw the point of it, when u don't mean it. N if u really do, then u dont need to say it.

So initially I wrote an honest sentence...that I really don't know what to write! But then, after writing endless scraps, I still didn't wanna get one of my own, wen Danny came up with this idea. She wanted to jus cut chart paper or some, into bits, n give it to everyone to write, n the bind it or some. It struck a cord in my heart. To add a bit of originality, AND to avoind trouble with copyright violation, I decided to improve upon the idea. Got a bunch of different coloured activity paper (Landmark zindabad), cut them by half, made a box outta an old file...n viola! I had my very own scrap box.

Next day I just handed it out for people to write, as n when they find time. N they stuff they wrote really really caught me by surprise. There were so many who remembered stuff about me, that I myself had long forgotten. I usually pride nyself on remember little things about people, but didn't realise that so many others who did the same about me too :)

And, yes, it was wonerfully funny to read thru those...be it Nandini saying that she remembers me yelling at her in first year while we were working together for an assignment(ooops!!!), but adding that its ok, coz she "probably deserved it", n neways we got an A in that assignment, so cool!! N this from a gal whom everyone in the class complains that she doesnt be with us much.
Or Janani saying that I was one of her 1st roommates (yeah...for like, 3 days in hostel!)...I don't even know when was the last time I actually spoke to her. Or people saying they appreciate me sholdering responsibility in class. Or that I've a cute smile (grin!grin!). Or that I'm actually helpful AND patient (who, me????really???).

So many tiny li'l things...that I'd never realised. Sure there were people, who did actually write things like "miss u, remember me!" blah, but SO MANY who did not. Felt good. REAL good.
Thanks U guys! Over 3 years, we've had our fights, and our differences of opinion, and our li'l skirmishes. But, at the end of those 3 years, these bits of memories remain. Like bits of scrap on the big scrap box of my mind. To the class of 3rd year JPEng....U ROCK!

Gravity is a Sad Excuse.

2006-02-17T19:40:00.000+05:30

Wanted to write...nothing coming outta my head. What ever is flowing, I'm just erasing it after finishing one para...

Dont wanna crib anymore! So wont!

I'm getting in my 'i wanna do a free fall' mode again. Gosh I need to go bungee jumping.

The class sweat shirts after a lot of melodrama, and even more crap, is finally getting done. For all the blah that guys gimme about gals never being able to do anything on time, n anything efficiently, it took a gal to intervene n stop their ego fights from ruining the whole point of a class sweat shirt. Boy! Does the caption seem appropriate or what now? "Don't give us more options, we re already confused" What could be more approprite to the bunch of "holistically perturbed journalists" that we re.

We re left with 3 days of classes. The university took the exam fees, but they still have not woken up to realise that they also need to give us a time table.

Graduation Day looms ahead.

Ma and Cha are here. But they wont be able to come see me graduate.

I have sk the letter he's given me long back (not that long back really, but it does seem long now). Dont ask me why. I don't know. I really dont.

I have not had a real face to face conversation with my best friend since I dont know how long. She's been busy. I, as usual didn't try too hard.I always thought that no matter how much ever we fight, there's nothing that cannot be fixed over cafe frappe'. But this time around when I asked, she had already made plans with someone else. We can always so it some other time rite? Sure. Wonder whether to fight for attention or fight oblivion. Evanesence never made more sense.

My childhood friend is down with chicken pox. Just a day before she was supposed to go to Hydrabad to join Satyam.

And still, my eternal optimistic alter refuses to die a slow death.

Went for my walk in morning as usual. Switched on my radio, n the first song they play is "chukar mere mann ko..." My all time favourite song. God bless radio city.

Then they play "jeene ke ishare mil gaye..." Providence saying,"Get a grip woman, its not like u have to put up with a life without ice cream!"

I know. Those who take life as a rollercoaster need to take down with the up. N yes, down' s faster, but then it also means its takes less time to be done n over with.

Chicken pox is curable. After some 5 years, people wont remember the fight. But they will still have the sweat shirt tucked in some corner of their wardrobe. Coffee Day is still standing strong. I just need to put my foot down...and..er... offer to pay the bill ;). Sk will always remain one on the good friends I had. Past cannot change. N it's not like I'm gonna start studying the day the time table is out. And finally Graduation means I get to show off, and college gives us free food...for once!

U know what? Life's not such a bitch afterall. U just need to change the colour of ur glasses once a while. Get a different coloured view.

Ms. Know-It-All said: "There are no problems in life that cannot be solved with a couple of well placed explosives" Anyone seen my box of RDX?????

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

2006-02-12T20:46:00.000+05:30

I walk a lonely road

The only one I that have ever known

Don't know were it goes

But its home to me and I walk alone
I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk a...
My shadows the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I walk alone
I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the border line of the edge

And were I walk alone
Read between the lines of what's

Fucked up and every things all right

Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive

And I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk aloneI

walk a...
My shadows the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk a...
I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of broken dreams

Were the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk a..
My shadows the only one that walks beside me

My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I'll walk alone!

Just about sums it up for me rite nw. Its amazing how someone else's words fit in ur mouth at times huh? AAAAARRGH! I'm tired of this lousy sob story! I'm tired of cribbing n complaining! I need to run away!!!!!!!

Hitchhiker's Guide to Life

2006-02-10T20:13:00.000+05:30

Why? Why? WHY????
It's the bloody end of year! End of my last year in college. The it might as well be the end of life, comfortable n relatively carefree, as I know it.

I say relatively, because it really is not all that carefree. Is it ever? I think we human beings, as a race are literally born with cares. They just differ in degree as we move on.
When u're just born, perhaps your greatest worry would be if that big thing that keeps lifting u up n pampering u, wen u re feeling cranky, will someday just get fed up with ur grouchyness n call it quits. U'd probably wonder how u can just ve such limited means of putting ur problems accross...I mean, u pee, u wail, u want food, u wail, u r too hot, u wail, u r too cold, u wail, u wanna die and all u an do is still wail. Bloody u can't even turn on ur stupid back, where the hell are u gonna do anthing else???

Then u learn to talk...then ur biggest worry would be wen to stop...u suddenly have so many darn things to say, so many zillion things to ask, u start to wonder if u should even take time to breath of a sec, in case u wont be able to ask all what u wanna in this small lifetime.

Then u learn to walk...no I think most of us just learn to run direct.Then suddenly, the world looks so much bigger.U discover corners of the universe that u'd never imagined possible. Run, run, run...like Forrest Gump (is that how u spell his name?).Just keep on moving.

Till we run ourselves to the gates of school...from then on, its running backwards, or running away...
In primary school, u r all happy. Boy! There are so many fascinating things in the world. But the first doubts creep in.Will u ever be as smart as ur pretty teacher? (gosh! she knows so much!). Will u be left with that ugly looking kid at recess? Will u be left with the last black crayon??? Will u be ever as cool as ur bro/sis is high school?

Then u actually huff n puff ur way to high school...n bingo! Suddenly, high school is a lot less cooler, now that u've got there. There's that definite class bully to make ur existance miserabe (as if pimples n puberty were not enough already). Then there's that cute chick/guy, who just refuses to acknowledge ur presence. Maybe the blame's not all his/hers. If only u didn't act like a spastic who's gonna choke on gum, everytime u wanna so much as say howdy. Then of course, a whole battalion of teachers who expect u to be a mathamatical genius, on the verge of a major invention that will change the way science thinks, who also plays basketball n goes cross country jogs in her sparetime, all the while quoting Shakrspear n Shelley.

Then the boards. Ok now ur parents, ur teachers n the entire humanity unanimously decide, that u deserve NO social life(not that any page 3 regular wld ve felt threatened by ur exciting social life), NO excitement (spare one odd test in one odd term that u may actually pass), n of course absolutely NO TV (there goes the one thing that didnt cringe wen u came in front of it...ur only escape from the morose reality that is ur life). So you finally manage to push n pull n drag urself through those too. Then the big choice...Science or Commerce??? Unless u re that dumb that u can take nothing but miserable Arts (horror!horror!)
So u take compromise n take commerce. Scrape through the next 2 years of endless accounts n mismatched balance sheets, n failed economic policies. On the last day of ur 12th boards, ur sense of joy's probably marred only by ur extreme fear of being rejected by all the colleges that u applied to.

Surprise! Surprise! Some college finally does agree to lower its standards to ur level. Then the three years...three wonderful years...no uniforms, no rules. The ones that are there, are meant to be broken. Friends...who for once dont really care if u r not the coolest one(probably coz they kw they re not either!) Life spent in the cafeteria, canteen, everywhere but class. But at the end of those years, u'll have figured out more than the rest of ur life put together.

That, comes to an end now. What is left, is an empty road...the one that I need to walk alone. Friends, teachers, parents...will only protect me this far. So what I need to know is, did it have to end like this? Did my friends have to become strangers?

What colour is Oblivion?

2006-01-26T15:11:00.000+05:30

Today in Sudu's class for O.E (Sudu is our drama teacher, Mr. Sudhamshu, spelt with an 'm', Sudu with love:)), we watched the docu, 'Final Soluton'...by Rakesh Sharma. We are reading Mahesh Dattani's play, 'Final Solutions', n Sudu always tries to got that extra mile with his classes, so the screening. Though I do have a hunch that the fact that all of us blattenly refused wake up from our bored stupor n participate in the discussions last class, which made him order us to "bugger off", 15 mins into class, may have played a small role!

To be very honest, it was not all the easy to digest...the docu I mean. Sure all of us have heard a lot bout the imfamous Godhra riots. Read a lot, seen a lot. But it still pulled your heart right out of ur ribcage, n twisted it bad to watch a li'l kid...probably not even 5 years old say that he saw his grandpa n uncles being brutally murdered. That he saw his dad's fingers being chopped off wen he tried to save them. That his mother, his aunt were stripped right in front of his eyes, before their limbs where chopped off. He wondered, why they stripped only the womenfolk. But even in his innocent mind, he knew who "they" were..."woh Hindu log hai na..."

I could feel the anger swell inside me as I heard Praveen Togadia proclaim to the crowds, that we need to forget Gabdhi to "fight injustice". I could feel the sorrow, wen a lady cried that she saw poor starving infants being thrown into the fire...that she still gets nightmares. Wen the cemetry keeper told the camera man that he'd lose his mind if he saw the scratches, the wounds on the breasts of the dead bodies of women brought to be buried...

We couldn't watch the whole docu...the 55 mins of class didnt permit. So we decided to wait till the next class to continue.

As I was walking out of the media lab, I was already thinking about the psychology presentation I had to make for the next class. Got out, saw Danny, smiled at her. She smiled back, n commented, "Not one of the best way to start my way". For a minute, I stared at her blankly. Didnt get wat she was referring to. Then it hit me. The docu. Can u believe it? I had already forgotten! I, who was so deeply affected by the plight of those hapless thousands. So deeply angered by the injustce of it all. Deeply affected! My own hypocracy shocked me.

What was wrong with me? What is wrong with all of us? How could we forget? How did we allow ourselves to forget...so soon? So easily?

"Those who forget history are condemded to relive it" George Somebody. And so we re...reliving it...time after time. Godhra. Mumbai. Babri Masjid. Delhi. Bhopal...time after time

What have I really seen in life? I ve not known real hunger...the one that pinches. I ve not seen war. Not seen hatred...the kind that makes u kill unborn children. I dont know what suffering is. Does that mean what I've seen in life is all a dream? An illusion? Meaningless waste? Do I really realise how fortunate I am? Or am I?

I know pain. BUT I also know what it is to be loved. What it is to be liked...AND disliked. I can see beauty in life, in this world. I can feel the joy of walking in the rain, of staring at a starlit sky, of walking barefoot on wet grass...of feeling the sea waves touch my feet n go...I can look at a child smile at me, and feel happy to be alive.

But what bout that li'l kid? Will he look at midnight sky filled with a million stars, n realise that God must love us guys down here..or will he relive the horrors of that horrible night when all his people, his world, were brutually destroyed? Will that lady ever get a peaceful nights's sleep...without the nightmares?

God...how can u make the same world so diffrent for 2 people at the same time?

Ms. Know-it-all asked: Will u remember that kid tmorrow?
I hope I never ever forget...again.

running thru the rain

2006-01-23T18:28:00.000+05:30

one awesome forward.one of my all time favs!

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.
The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in
"Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.
"What?" Mom asked. "Let 's run through the rain!" She repeated.
"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated: "Mom, let's run through the rain," "We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.
"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?" said Mom. "Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!"
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's' life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.
"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said.
Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But..... But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.
Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.
A friend sent this to me to remind me of life. Hope you enjoy it. I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Take the time to live...and don't forget to run in the rain!

ASS WE USED TO LIKE IT

2006-01-22T19:30:00.000+05:30

this is it. our last communiquere. our last DC. 3 years 3 years....
it was at communiquere 2003 that we first went on stage for dc. 5 mins b4 regisration closed we hadnt even decided that we'll go. we were not even a team. n then we were on stage. we even did good. sailed thru the prelims. all of a sudden, we were a team. me, tsu, n sady.' the instincts'. we had friends cheering for us. it felt gud. we even had a fighting chance of winning. that was b4 we were disqualified in the last round. sady got a li'l over excited n forgot that u were supposed to keep ur mouth shut while miming. well, for a person for whom keeping her mouth shut is the wrost form of torture, well cant blame her. real dumb-dumb-see!
well i dunno how many dcs we've lost since then. actualy i do. all. but we went to every single one since then. me,tsu,sady. n the managers! n we had awesome fun. atleast in the beginning. the endless practices that i used to drag those 2 into. sady got pretty bored pretty soon. tsu lasted a bit more :) but my enthusiasm never faded.
but we had fun all the while. ass we liked it! it used to be quite hilarious. we'd get he most difficult things. we got 'abyss'. we couldnt get 'contact'. we NEVER got casa blanca. we always found serendipity! sady drew a cycle to show 'greece' (!). tsu cld ve kill us for not getting material girl. hey!we got circle of life didnt we!?
communiqure 2006. day 1. we lost our second last dc. didnt even make it to the finals. tsu was upset.
communiqure 2006. day 2. our second last dc. n my team ditched me.
tsu came n asked me if its ok if she goes wit san n sush for this one. i said yes . was it ok? no, it wasnt. was i hurt? yes i was .3 years we had been a team. our last chance. we may not have made it.but then we wld not have made it together. tsu told me later that she wanted to win...or atleast try to. for me, it dc was not jst another competetion. it was something that we did together. it meant that we understood what the other was trying to say. even wen they didnt open their mouths. it was bout us being friends. us connecting.
well, i was upset. but as usual, my pride n my ego stopped me from showing it.
then bhavna asked me to join wid them. i refused even before she actually asked. i dint wanna go without my team. but then i did. my last dc. i wanted to go. wat the heck. jus coz we re not going together, i didnt wanna miss it. sady said they asked her too. but she said she didnt wanna ditch me n go. i appreciate that sadz. n i really wish we cld go together.
honestly speaking, i dint expect to have much fun wid bhavna n vidz.afterall we went against them for a gud 3 years. but then i did. infact i had awesome fun! we made thru the prelims...jus barely! n then wat followed was quite simply hilarious!
we took like half a minute t0 get 'impotence' in the 'bumper sticker round'..."screw? screw! oh u've not been screwed? virgin! its virgin! oh its i guy??? wat do u call a guy who's a virgin??? its still virgin!there's no other word woman!!! aaarrrgh! oh u cant screw...oh!oh!shit! its impotent!impotent! impotency? ok impotence!" oh lord!!! u shld ve seen the way vidz struggled to act it out! hw i wish i cld ve taped it n put it up here! she all but showed the finger to the 2 of us for taking that long! outrageously HILARIOUS! everyone was in splits.
then the second word was 'god'...suddenly i realised i kw this one! i got all excited! vidz got all excited! bhavna got all exicted "i kw this one! impotence is god's way of saying something...aaarg wat thing? i cant get it! oh oh! impotence is god's way of saying no hard feelings!!!!" yippee!!! me n bhavna, thus narrowly missed getting murdered by vidz, who in the celebration that we got it, forgot that we took almost half the time to get the first word! man! it was jus out of the world fun!
the lyric round were we almost got the song...wld ve if it didnt take us like 1 min to get 'hero'...we went as far as justice league! vidz had to go thru the nike adline 'jst do it' for us to get 'doing'(she cld ve jst refered us to the bumper sticker round ;)!) world trade center got us 'trade'. i had a 'total recall' in the last minute! bhavna forgot wat vidz's fav buk was...li'l women...nw i will never forget!
we cld ve won...almost! but then this team from mounts came n literally sang their way to the first place. we came third. good enough. i had fun doing dc like never before.it'd ve been ok even if we didnt place.
strange the way things turn out isn't it? the one time we won, was the one time i went without my team. one time i had the most amazin fun was wen i tot i'd be miserable. weird me n a funny world.
ms.know-it-all said: maybe this was god's way of saying no hard feelings!

stirred but not shaken!

2006-01-17T20:56:00.000+05:30

so! i'm back from pondi. in one piece..lil broken here n there but, essentially together still!
i really dunno what to say bout it actually. it was kinda what i expected it to be...weird. not much of an 'adventure' but i guess we used up all of our share of the adventure in getting into the bus to pondi itself. woah man! some advebture that was too!

18 of us, at the KSRTC bus stand. frankie has all our tickets, n at 9.45 p.m., the dude's still 'stuck intraffic'. so we all got jus a wee bit worried. but annavaru(copyrights to nikki!) came at last. now jus wen we thought all our problems were solved, we were told they had jus begun.
so problem no. 2: none of us had no clue where exactly the bus came...the bus stop is a HUGE affair! so wat do we do? all of us wait at one spot while gud ol' frankie runs round he place trying to figure out. once a while, we run from behind him. finally after some 20 odd minutes of chaos n utter confusion n jammed networks n frank getting lost every other min, we come to knw that the bus's actually at the other end of the stand, n we've all of 10 mins to get there. RUUUNNN!!!! imagine the sight- 18 of us, with all our bags n baggage, running across the bus station like a coupla crazy maniacs. oh lord! the ones at the back cldnt see the ones in front, all of us terribly scared that we'll either be lost, or will miss the bus! ah but we did get there eventually...someone upstairs musta felt pity on our plight!

the trip was kinda standing proof for murphy's law. never realised that there are somany ways things an go wrong!

so here are the weird tit-bit tales for those 2 fateful days!

=shyam...the 'star' of the trip!he held up his hand, so that we cld see which direction to run at the bus stop...follow the guiding star!

=reaching at pondi, n suddenly having no place to stay! rocky beach n a pay n use loo to save the day. with cute french guys around no one complained!

=finally finding a place 8 kms away...n wat place! a wooden shack made on four pillars...tree house of sorts. sexy! so no one belts frank. hats off instead dude!

=hitting the beach in the morn, hittin the beach in the nite, hitting the beach again the next morn, AND again in the eve...basically two days we did nothing but be on the beach. did i hear anyone complain but???

=half a night spend on the beach...full moon, stars, cool wind, high tide, n waves kissing my feet...a sea that's so much fun n playful....now thats how i define HEAVEN!!

=certain scandalous pics being taken!mangal pandey istyle scenes on the beach...well well for the fear of libel n defamation, i shall keep the fine details to myself!;0

=tsu who discovered that she has a future in paparazzi journalism waitin for her!

=to boms, who was NOT drunk, who DID NOT get a high, n who DID NOT want to catch a live ostrich from the sea. boy! he was jus too cute! hilarious!

=to nets, who actually got high on tomatoes! can bad food n cranky mood effect ur head???

=food that SUCKED, n aunty (the caretakers wife), who gave our hungry souls salvation with the most devine dosas n puris :)

=to santosh checking out guys...for tsu of course! excuses! excuses!

=to neha, staying awake till 5 in the morn to bachaofy her guy's nnanam n maanam! oh lord hilarious!!!

=to sady, for lying still for i dunno how long, coz she cldnt turn the other way for certain undisclosable reasons!

=to frank n rads n santosh...who spent the nite on the beach for the lack of space to sleep! poor things!

=to the unindentified good samaritan who switched off the fan in our cottage, sometime early the morn, when all of us were dying of cold, but were too lazy to get up!

=to the cute foreigner, who folded his hands n a cute namaste when he crossed my path in my early morn walk in beach

=to the lady who was picking up the trash from the beach...jus coz she loved the beach n wanted it to be clean for others

=falling off the cycle some 3 diffrent times, but still managing to ride it!ha!determination!(well, n getting hurt, AND infecting the wound, AND 2 drips to the doc, getting yelled by tsu, my folks, my bro AND my bro's friend for being careless with the wound :( )

All my bags are still waiting to be packed!!!

2006-01-12T21:34:00.000+05:30

We're gonna be off! Finally after 3 longs years of delibration n consideration, n planning, n unplanning, 3rd JPEng has FINALLY decided to take off to Pondicherry for the weekend!Ye!Ye!Ye!
rite!now that i've given a gud happy start to the story,lemme reveal the swalpa bitter truth!some 20 of us from a class of 51 re taking off!tickets re booked,for us to go, and more importantly come back!AND for us to park our u-know-whats for the one night we re gonna be there! n its gonna be the weirdest bunch of people who re gonna be there...all psychos, all nuts, some with issues to fight out, some dying for the lack of one! oh well! shld be awesome fun...n no i'm NOT kidding!
me has all my friends with mua, except for dear burger, who's refsed to come claiming "personal reasons". yeah yeah danny, we all knw how "personal" that is!or shld i say who is???;) wish u cld come da!
evil plans to get certain unsuspecting souls drunk are already on the blue print of some diabolic minds...while certain others are all set to get drunk n settle some old scores...hmmm...need to watch wat i sip!but then, aint i one with the conspirators???
so ppl!will tell ya all the gory details upone return!wish me bon voyage!!!

To ALL...with love!

2006-01-07T16:26:00.000+05:30

So!Another year ended, and another year started! A friend asked, "Do u even feel that it's a new year?" the answer honestly, i realised is no. does it really make any diffrence if it's now 06 in the dateline instead of 05??? life will go on as it did yeaterday. and the day before.
But i guess i'm gonna see quite a few changes on '06 for sure, and funnily enough, so will most people i know, it seems.
so this post is for all those wonderful people in my life!hope the new year's filled with exciting challenges n delightful changes!:)

-> to my acha n ma...cha's retiring, and for a person who's as hardworking n committed as he's this will be a boring change. hope u find something that appeals to u, n will keep u happily busy cha.

ma...coz she's always been cha's partner in every crime... his feelings, his tensions are more hers than his :)

a couple whose relationship, n love for each other i respect and envy more than anyother in the entire world. glad u've each other ma n acha!i love u both so much!

-> to my bro...he's the most amazing guy i know. hope all his dreams find reality this year. there are few people who deserve a beautiful happy life more than him, God. Cheta, u're the best!

-> to tsu...one amazing gal! my best friend. my worst critic. my wonder wall. hope u find what u want AND what u need buddy!

-> to divya chechi...my first EVER best friend. with marriage on the cards, hope u do get a guy who folds up his newspaper neatly once he's done reading :)

-> to dilip cheta...a beautifully happy future to u n ur anu!!!

-> to dannyboy...may Midday AND The Hindu fight for u. n a certain wish comes true...UNQUESTIONABLY!

-> to george...my dear buddy from school days, who keeps popping in n out of my life. hope ur attempts to start from the 'top of the ladder' meet considerably more amounts of success!;)

-> to killikins...para-psychology calling!this time around, i'll ask the souls in purgatory to pray for u instead(cheeky grin!)

->to susha...madam legally brunette blond (!). stay just as cute in westminster!!!

->to jeniboy...one of the nicest people i know giving up direction for sports psychology???hey who's gonna cast me in the lead in the movie then?:( u'll be the best in watever u do mate!

->to chuchu(ponderer??)...ok i dont know what u want anymore, but i hope u do get it :) .be happy...u deserve to be.

->to boms...good luck with the double MA n IAS buddyboy!never ever tell my mom bout it!phew!u never cease to amaze me with the amount of work u can do.no one like ya...stay the same!

-> and finally, n of course most importantly, me! i hope i find some clarity in my life(that i've been hoping for the past 3 years...maybe i'll be 4th time lucky, wats the harm in hoping?), and i hope i get a job, AND the courage to be on my own in a big bad beautiful world

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.s. from Ms.Know-it-all: ->To GOD...good luck with the nutters of ur world! :)

talk about hopes!

2006-01-04T20:56:00.000+05:30

got this in a mail!all i can say is...please come true!please come true!!!pleeeeaaase come true!!!!:)

man!its like everything i wanted this year to be!
2006: Leo Overview

As the year begins, you may feel torn between putting in more time at work and giving yourself some quality time alone. You can find the right balance if you manage your time wisely, and if you remember to 'measure twice and cut once.' Do it right the first time. During February, your primary relationship will keep you busy. If you're not attached as the season begins, get yourself out there and look around. The new Moon of the 8th could bring someone along who's just different and unusual enough to keep you interested.

During spring, an urge to learn something new will tempt you into taking classes or taking off for parts unknown with your partner. A proposal or a lovely invitation could come your way after the 23rd of May, too. Be prepared to make some changes for nothing but the most delightful of reasons.

Summer will be a fun, sociable season for you -- but expect some delays while traveling or attempting to keep your appointments between July 23rd and August 16th, when communicative, travel-loving Mercury will throw his engine into reverse -- in your own sign. During this time, always have a Plan B ready to go, and expect everything to take longer than you'd anticipated. This doesn't mean you won't enjoy yourself. In fact, you'll probably meet someone you never would have crossed paths with if you'd been where you were supposed to be.

Your natural talent for charming chitchat will be even more lethal during October. You may even be able to have a positive impact on a tough family situation. Take advantage of the good, warm feelings the holiday season inspires, and see if you can't remind loved ones of the importance of staying close. You may have some extra work heaped on your plate during mid-November, but it's nothing you can't handle. Travel plans will come together nicely during December, so make your arrangements and rest assured that all will be well.

2006: Leo Career

Your job might feel just a touch too demanding as the New Year starts. Cultivate efficiency and you'll have plenty of time for other pursuits, but expect to stay busy until at least February 8th. At that point you might find a new job opening or project interesting enough to take you away from your routine. March, especially, will be a time of transition.

Spring is all about new opportunities and directions. If you freelance, expect a new client that brings a different set of expectations. If you're on the clock, you'll see a creeping change in the way you relate to your industry. The last week in May will bring an offer or promotion that might be too good to pass up.

After all that change, summer will come as something of a relief to you -- slow and steady as she goes. In fact, from late July through mid-August, things will slow down so precipitously that you might stall out, especially if you work with communications, computers or education. You'll do well to have another project ready to move forward, preferably one on which progress can be made slowly.

October will pose a set of interesting problems for you, but each one can be settled without stretching too far from your normal mode. There might be tensions simmering in the workplace, but you won't have to get involved with any of that ugliness. November will be busy, especially mid-month, but you'll actually be glad to have the distraction. The holiday season will go well for you, but might be over too soon.

2006: Leo Romantic

Make time for some you-time as you kick off your brand-new year. The demands on your time are many, and a little maintenance on the ol' heart by way of some peace and quiet will stand you in good stead. Start your Valentine's festivities early on February 11th; you can sweep anyone off their feet, regardless of whether it's your longtime sweetheart or someone brand-new. March 15th may find you uncharacteristically indecisive about some matter of the heart. Give it a few days and your intuition will kick in; then you'll create some fabulous excitement around the 21st.

Spring brings the reawakening of love (or is that lust?) and the blooming of everything around you, which always makes you want to roar. However, the 11th of April begins a week in which singles on the prowl might want to tone it down a little, while long-term relationships go suddenly from a state of hibernation to spring fever. Look for more action in your love life from May 23rd to 25th, when your generous spirit is rewarded very sweetly indeed -- perhaps you're the one being swept off your feet now.

For a good time in June, you need look no further than the weekend of the 10th, when your always indisputable magnificence is virtually blinding. Issue sunglasses to your crowd of admirers, then see which one looks best in your lovely glow. If you're coupled up, let your intuition guide you around July 5th; after the fireworks fade, you can spark something special indeed. From July 23rd through August 16th, you'll want to be extra-super-cautious in communications with those you're romancing, as Mercury's in retrograde in your very own sign. Handle the inevitable mix-ups by dishing out some of your trademark generosity.

The very beginning of September's got your name written on it, so take that first weekend and have your way with it. The 10th and 11th, too, have you-plus-romance all over them. October finds your natural charm turned way, way up; the coupled up can enjoy some extra autumnal coziness, while singletons can attract someone as loving and loyal as they themselves. Holiday socializing heats up in mid-November, with you as always at the center of every party (holding the mistletoe over your own head, of course). Plan a getaway in December; it'll be romantic, whether you're traveling with your sweetie or going solo.

Rhyme n Reason

2005-12-20T18:08:00.000+05:30

U can be friends with all kinds of people for all kinds of reasons. Because both of u like café’ frappe’ n Abhishek Bacchan alike. Because both of u hate flurocent orange. Or because she thinks the kinda guys u like look sad, and u think the kinda guys she likes look gay:). But once in while, u come across that one friendship, that u just cannot reason away. It’s there…just because.
N it’s this friend that I wanna tell u abt. He irritates the hell out of me wen he keeps arguing with me or wen keeps begging me for treats, which is aways. I hate it wen he gives me is I-know-better-than-u looks (they are worse than his I-told-u looks). I hate his mocking laughter, wen he gangs up with others and says, “Excuse her, she’s a bit special”, patting my head. I HATE it wen he pulls my cheeks, and hate it evn more coz I know that he knows that I hate it, but does it all the same.
But I love him for the way he can make me talk…bout anything and everything. N the way he’ll come after me, after I storm out after a fight, knowing full well that before I’ve gone 10 steps, I’d be more miserable than the poor soul I yelled at.
I hate the way he thinks he has me all figured out. And for the fact that for most of it, he has. But I LOVE it when I realize, how wrong he can be at times.
He’s the only guy who’s called me a bitch, on my face, in front of half a dozen people, n meant it too. Still wen he came back, I accepted it. He hardly tried to justify it, or explain y. Heck, he didn’t even offer a proper ‘I’m-sorry’. He is the only guy whom I’ve called a ‘bloody-fucked-up-loser’, on the face, but not in front of half a dozen people. I did offer a I’m-sorry though. N he accepted it. Both us know neither of us will forget any of it, but it’s OK.

I hate him for my best friend fell in love wid him, with less than happy consequences. N for the muddle he’s created with a good number of others. But I respect him for having the courage to stand by the one girl he said he loved, taking a chance that his friends will someday understand. For patiently waiting for that day.

I respect him for the way he can look at people, see what usually goes unnoticed. The way he can see good in everyone, bad in everyone.
I hate him for trying to ‘help’ me, or sympathize with me, wen all I needed him to do was be there, wen all I needed was a friend. N I do hate him for making me think, at one point, that I was in love with him. Love him for the fact that wen I realized I was not, I felt neither resentful, nor relieved. I didn’t feel uncomfortable bout the possibility of being in love, or bout the reality that I was not. Because it really didn’t matter. What mattered was that at some level, he understood what it was like to be me, n made me feel it was not so bad.
He’s hurt me at times, n hurt me good. I’ve hurt him at times, n hurt him good. I’ve thrown him outta my life a zillion times, walked outta his life a zillion times, but he’s come back, every single one of those times.
He’s not my best friend. Probably not even the closest. I’m most definitely not his. He doesn’t make me feel any special. Or even loved, for the matter. He makes me feel like…me. Just me.
N u know what? It ain’t so bad.
N oh! I LOVE the way his ears will turn the most glorious colour of pink when he reads this. And the way he’ll vehemently deny that they have not!

Red Ribbon Loops

2005-12-20T17:37:00.000+05:30

When are we gonna grow up??? No seriously, it quite simply ceases to be funny anymore.
Dec 1st. World AIDS Day. A day, set aside to spread awareness about a disease, which is, quite effectively wiping out entire populations, and doing it nice and slow, so that not many realize it. So everyone thinks its important to disillusion people who still think that AIDS is something that drug addicts and prostitutes n those scum of earth who get into all sorts of “immoral activities” get. So religiously, everyone who mattered, pinned a red ribbon on his or her shirt to express solidarity with the noble cause.
I wore one too. Our college distributed them at the gates. That was not all. There were talks, seminars, documentaries. Placards all around campus that told u how AIDS can and cannot spread. There were the usual blood transfusion will, n shaking hands won’t deal, but one of them proclaimed, “Multiple-partner sex causes AIDS”. Huh? Excuse me? All due respect for the people who put in all the effort to put in those banners, but don’t u really think its kinda time that we finish with the preaching and tackle the problem like mature adults do? If sex with multiple partners causes AIDS, then hell, Idon’t see much hope for the future of the world. I dunno if they wrote that intentionally or outta simple misinformation, but this is exactly the kinda attitude that is the root cause of all the stigmatization that AIDS n HIV patients have to deal with..
In India sex, is a four letter word, sexuality, is something we don’t discuss in polite company, and pre-marital sex is something that should be declared criminal.
Recently Isaw an article being put up in our coll notice board, from B’lore Times, bout condom vending machines that were put up in the JNU campus. For one glorious moment I thought that our coll’s actually decided to shed its holier-than-thou attitude on such issues (who am I kiddin, on every issue), but no! My bubble burst wen I read the last para, which was highlighted to show the real cause of its finding a place there- a comment by a familiar name, which read “College is not the time for such things”. I’ve all the respect for the person, she’s a great teacher, n an awesome lady, but seriously??? If they just take a quickie scan around coll, they’ll probably realize that a considerable number are not single, n half are not exactly virgins (there! I said the word. Now are they gonna sue me for defamation next?). Its pretty evident that students today are getting a completely different kind of education in college (n yes schools too), while teachers are deliberately closing their eyes to it.
Wat we really need is to do away with taking the high moral ground, and open up to a lot. The birds n bees story may work wen we re 3, but phuleese do not insult a 17 year old’s intelligence with that. Stop saying “multiple partners will land u in trouble”, no one will listen. Tell them unprotected sex with some guy/gal whose face u wont remember the next morn is gonna get ur immune system fucked(yes, i used the dreaded f word),they'll make sure they use protection. Wen curious teens learn that A+B can sometimes make C, they’ll think before.
Sex really does determine the amount of freedom u’ll ever have in ur life. Bring it out of the closets, or backs or cars parked on lonely roads. N there will a fewer porn mags stacked away under the sink, n people wont go to the chemist n guiltily ask for “woh hai na, woh”. U’ll free a lot of minds, n in the process save a lot of lives.
Life doesn’t end with AIDS. But it sure becomes a tough battle. Those addicted can perhaps do without the stigma. But I don’t think they re looking for sympathy. They need understanding, n solidarity. And that is what the red ribbon is all about.
Ms. Know-it-all said: “What we need is actually to learn from our cultural heritage. We just need to know the right books to refer…kama sutra anyone? ; )

who says there's no magic in the muggle world?

2005-12-01T18:41:00.000+05:30

Saw harry potter and the goblet of fire recently. Me and a friend, we rushed into the theater, collected our tickets, gropped in the semi darkness to find our seats, n settled in. we were just about getting comfy, when these three gals walk in. they look at us, look at their ticket numbers, look back at us. We meanwhile are trying to pretend that whateva they do is not really our concern…they are just a bunch of confused kids. So they politely say, “I think u guys ve got the wrong seats...” well we aint giving up that easy, we’ve got saet numbers 5 n 6, n this is 5 n 6! Turns out we were right, it was seat number 5 n 6, only in the wrong row. so we move our asses to the row in front, n finally settle in...n the movie begins.2 n half hours of pure magic!

Rowling has this amazing ability to bring her stories to life, a fine attention to details, n magic so real that u tend to feel it, not just read it.the first 3 movies, kinda sucked, but this one was gud...ok not comparable to the book, but good in its own right.nevermind that dumbledore's a bit over-excited, n krum has all 1 n a half mins of dialogue(not that i'm complaining, it was good enough to look at him ;)).
harry potter, books usually, but this time around the movie too, always gets me in the wish-i-was-there mood.wish that magic actually existed in the muggle world too.but then, i wondered doesnt it? isn's life an everyday evidence of magic...perhaps as Hagrid says in the first book, if we muggles stop trying so hard to ignore it, we'd see magic everywhere...
isn't it magic the way some hundred odd people, who have not seen each other before, n will probably not see each other again, can sit in the darkness of one huge room, n let someone else's magic wash over them? isn't it magic, that for some 2 n a half hours, they suspend all other realities, n just believe what they see...and at the end of these 2 n a half hours, they all go back to their happy lives, unchanged, unaffected. but not always, is it?sometimes, there are some movies that do change a part of u. isn't that magic?
isn't magic that fire fly can light up, without burning up?that the salt water that rises up from seas, falls as rain?(ok, lines from a song, all copyrights violated, but still is amazing!). isn't it magic that n atom, that minuscule(wrong spelling??) thing can actually further be broken into a whole lot of parts? isnt it magic that our brain can hold so many memories, from colour of our dress that we wore on our first date, to the name of the dog of our first best friend, but quite simply refuses to remember the last date of submission for the college assignment?isnt it magic that on a crappy day, wen everything seems to go wrong, one small kid u meet across the street jus smiles at u, for reasons known only to him, n suddenly it seems not so bad.cheering charm?that u can sit with your friend for hours, not really say anything of consequence, but stil walk off feeling u jus had the best conversation of ur life?
see?life's full of magic. every nook, every corner, u'll see an elf laughing at u. u'll see a li'l wizard flipping his wand.
wen we got out of the theatre, my friend said, 'wish it'd jus go on , not get over'. well, buddy, it does go on!
ms know it all said: who says there's no maggic in the muggle world?u jus need an open mind to see....thru the looking glass...

WHY DOES MONALISA SMILE?

2005-11-27T19:33:00.000+05:30

“Hey did u read ‘The Da Vinci Code?” Perfectly harmless question. Or so I thought. But these seemingly innocent words started such a huge debate that left me wondering what went wrong! This New York Times bestseller by Dan Brown has been creating ripples ever since it the stands in 2003.
The book has rekindled a debate that has been under covers for a long time. Every person who has read has a strong opinion about it- either wondering about the alternative to conventional faith that the book provides, or passionately protecting the conventional view about things. In fact, the books even elicited extreme reactions from as far as Kerala, where a customs investigations sleuth (no less!), undertook a six month long investigation to refute Brown’s contentions (full story in The Week, Sept.19,2004 issue). To quote Mr. Francis Kodankandath, who has given quite a strong case, “I found it appalling that he (Brown) had manipulated a great work like the Last Supper to drive home his contentions. Though one is entitled to have independent views on Christianity, it should not be at the cost of historical objectivity and artistic greatness of a monumental work”.
Fair words sir, but I wonder how you define ‘historical objectivity’. Brown uses facts embedded in historical works like the Mona Lisa, The Last Supper etc., to draw his conclusion. Kodankandath interprets the same facts to reach a different one. So whom do we deem right?

One of the biggest flaws in our understanding is our failure to distinguish between facts and myths. And history, as we know it, is a fine balancing act between the two, so much so that it is difficult to say where facts end and myths begin. And this distance between facts and myth, is faith. One’s faith is not just the understanding of the known, but the acceptance, and a trust in the Unknown. Most of us don’t question our beliefs, what our religion preaches. Today if you ask an average Jack on the street why he goes to church or temple or performs any kind of religious ritual, the answer would most probably be ‘I’ve been doing it all my life, and my parents before me’. Religion, for most has become tradition, a legacy that we get from our fathers and forefathers. And when somebody suggests an alternative to this convention, we panic, and the immediate defense is denial.
Probably why the Da Vinci Code is so hard to digest is because it would mean questioning everything that we’ve ever known. But then what we need to ask is that whether the possibility that Jesus was mortal, make his teachings any less poignant or profound or for that matter true? To this a friend replied, “My faith is like a circle. One link breaks, the whole circle breaks.” Agreed that it is so- search for God is the search for meaning, for truth. It begins within you and that’s precisely where it ends too. But why assume your circle is complete? The world is not so small that you can know all that’s there is to know in one lifetime. So many secrets hidden in this creation that it just is humanely impossible to know them all.
The search of god begins with belief and ends in faith. Belief is what u start with, your base. You question it, fight it, and find reasons for it. When you’ve found your reasons, that’s faith. And that, is when life comes full circle. The problem is that most of us don’t seek truth; we just assume we have it. But for those who do seek it, it’s the journey, more than then destination that counts.
Like’s a Rubik’s cube- at first glance, it may seem like a random collection of moments. But when each piece falls in its rightful place, then the pattern emerges…definite and meaningful. And till we find it, faith, god- is a feeling, the inspiration, which in this world of chaos and confusion, keeps us going.
As for what da Vinci meant when he painted those 13 cups, we can guess but we’ll never know for sure. I guess that’s one secret, like many others that died with him- maybe he that was his private joke…his way of mocking at the world. Maybe that’s why, Mona Lisa is smiling.

lost

2005-11-27T13:30:00.000+05:30

that last post was an article i wrote for our coll mag bout a year ago. for some reason i like it more than most of my other ones. maybe coz the topic is kinda close to my heart. ve never believed in religion...or the current versions of it...much to the dissappointment of my parents. but then, thats not the only area where i dissappointed them so..well, lets not talk that.
it's weird right? we re, as a species, such confused entities. our whole happy existance is a bunch of theories. we really are not too sure where we came from...but yes it has to be with a big bang. we as humans dont really believe in a quiet start, do we? n then theory of evolution...blah. but then, they are just that...theories, possibilities, or probabilities. nothing concrete. heck we dont even know if we actaually exist!(wats with quantum physics, n some particle theory, n other big compliacted words that i dont understand)
i find all this pride in the scientific advancement that we re supposed to have made a wee bit pretensious. what have we found really? where are we headed?science is a tricky affair. the more we discover, the more remains hidden. it inspires, it holds us in awe. n it makes us realise, waht a bunch of insignificant dunces we are really.
but its fun being dunces, dont u think. being like this lost kid, in this HUGE magical jungle, where there are no straight roads...only mazes. we'll never know what lies benyond the turning...untill we get there. n thats the beauty of existance. thats what we live.
dunno, was feeling confused. so thought will put it down...now i'm even more lost.
ms. knw it all said: dont fasten ur seatbelts. its more fun if u fall...free fall.

the much underrated loo

2005-11-21T18:16:00.000+05:30

This was one idea that came up a couple of days ago wen i logged on to post something. well had a lot of thing running thru my head which i wanted to put down in paper(well not paper, watever is the equivalent of that in cyber space). but wen i actually got down to it, nothing really came out. then a A, in one of her brighter momments suggested writing bout how thoughts flow nice n easy in some places, when they jst become a clogged mixture of murky garbage, in others. hmmm...so a asked myself, where is that one place where my messed up mind is Swarosky clear? n before i could even finish my question the answer hit me n i decided to dedicate my next place to that sacred space (!).
so here it is...

ODE TO THE...LOO!!!

Archemedies(wonder if that's really hw the dude spells his name...newayz he's been happy n dead for quite a bit nw so i guess i can effectively rule out the risk of getting sued! ;)) hit upon his most insightful insight wen he was lying, stark naked in his lovely bathtub. he was so overjoyed by this discovery that he had no time to remember more mundane things like cloths n stuff, as he ran through the beautiful streets of ancient Greece(or was it Rome??Lord i NEED to brush uo my history...or is it science??watever...gk man!!!but i do think it was greece), shouting "Eureka!Eureka!"all the while being happily naked! the then citizens of Greece (Rome?) musta thought that watever was it that Sir Archemedies eurekaed, it most definitely was not his cloths. but not to go off track, ever wondered it were possible, that there actually could be a reason for him hitting on the mighty insight wen he was exactly where he was...ie. the bathroom?

now if u're done laughing at the idea, take a minute to think, where u hit on ur brightest ideas?(that's, of course, assuming that, u do hit upon brigt ideas). think think. i'm sure now that smirk on ur face is swalpa fading.

i asked this question to a bunch of my friends. couple of them gave quite vague answers like, 'no place in particular' n 'i dont think'. one soul even went as far as his house down in kerala, among the paddy fields, under some mango tree or some. but most responses were, 'in the shower', 'the bathroom' or 'on top of u-can-guess-what' (for the dunces who didnt get it, it begins with a p n ends with a y, n has one 0 n 2 ts in between).

i, for one, can admit without a mearest trace of doubt that most of my AHA experiences (nw if u dont knw wat an AHA experience is, refer to 'Understanding Psychology', edition 4, chapter 8, page 268), either wen i was in the shower or wen i'm attending one of nature's early morning calls.

so is it all a mear coincidence that all our flash bulb moments happen in the hidden walls of the bathroom or did God actually give us that place to explore n exercise much more that our bowels n our vocal chords(for singing i mean)? maybe the reason lies in the fact that the loo is the only place, in the whole grand world, where u go completely n truely alone.i mean u sure do not want someone staring at u while u go about the merry business of emptying ur system.the showerl...er...well there maybe people who wouldnt mind company, but thats a COMPLETELY diffrent story altogether, so we shalt jst ignore tat tiny hitch for now. so, wat u get it is TOTAL n uninterupted privacy, so that ur toughts can flow daintly as a river. unless u've an irritatin sibling or a roomie whose digestive clock works in perfect tandom with urs, in which case u've loud bangs on the door accompanied by rude n unflattering threats.

n its also the only time wen u're stripped bare of all ur masks that come with the business of living, the only time wen u dont ve to act all proper proper n dignified n grown-uppish. the only time u can be jst YOU.n no one's gonna hold it against u. or judge u.

so is it a big wonder,that u can reason clearly, understand things that u never considered before, wen u re stripped bare (quite literally!) of the layers of pretensions of everyday life?maybe the warmth of a shower, that cleases u off the dirt n muck, clears ur mind too off the clutter, n takes with it all the stress n fatigue down the drain, leaving ur grey cells refreshed.

so next time it feels all confused n muddled up in ur upper storey , just go take that shower!

ms.know it all said: nature's calling!where re u???

cheers!

God save!

2005-11-05T20:20:00.001+05:30

Phew!been long since i posted...yeah like i've been posting everyday otherwise! but still ve been off the virtual world for quite a bit...real one was enough to handle.
jst back after a trip home...as always there's loads to rethink. most people go home to take a break n feel gud n pampered. well, i'm not any different. but then, life always gets the better of me.
for some reason, not yet disclosed, something always happens that will a)mess up my already messed up mind, b) get me brooding, c) all of the above.
this time around we(we being me, my ma, n cha(thats my dad)) went to this temple that apparently opens only once a year.talk bout timing, of the 365 days it had, they HAD to open it wen i was there!ok i've nothing against temples per se, apart from the fact that i dont believe in them, but that's another long story, another post!
so neways, not to get off the topic, ma, being the good zealous temple goer that she is, absolutely insisted that we go...obviously it was extremely fortunate that a temple that opens only once a year, is actually opne nw wen i'm at home for hols, thats some good turn of luck or divine blessing that cannot quite simply be ignored.so we went.
n guess what?it was the last day the place remained open (apparently wen i does open it remains so for some amt of days so that ALL the gud god fearing ppl can catch a darshan), n so there was a huge crowd waiting. ok i said earlier that i do not believe in temples. i believe even less in waiting for looong hours, n letting all n sundry, stamp,kick, push n pull u limb for limb, all for a glimpse of an idol that they believe (n i dont) is god. but then, that is not really the kinda point of view that my ma finds worth encouraging, so there!proceed we did.
n turns out, we didnt really ve to wait in the loong line. nope sir. here things work differently. now my dad happens to the head of office in the place. n his subordinate was with us. now the police guys at the gate recognise him. n those who didnt, his sub jst throws a bit of the IB card round, n we re ushered straight into the temple.n not jst into the temple, but right into the insides...the "nada" or the inner chamber, if u will, were the celebrated idols are piously kept. now there re 3 such doors that u need to pass b4 u get to the real thing. first we were sent to the outter circle...were before us, a gud number of the big wheels had gathered...the local mla or someone(he sure was not hard to miss in white n white, his face looking as though he expected a camera to be pulled out of somewhere any momment, so he was constantly striking a pose), some other sidekicks od his, so major dudes with their thick gold chains, n thinker bracelets gleaming...looks like the richy riches of the place, n of course the temple office bearers, old n withering, some ladies(probably the wifes n sisters of the above mentioned), some wailing kids, n so on. at regular intervels, some of them would walk in to the inside chambers, the others trying to edge in, then walk out, the others still try to edge in. made me quite sick...this power play. more sick to think that i was also among them. the sick greasy smiles, the fake put on show that it was, the display of so called "devotion". 2 miserabel hours later, we were ushered further in...to the next, n then anothe half an hour later, the inner chamber was opened...for the public so see the gods, goddesses rather. n who were the first in line...the chosen few of course, who had the clout. n the once who had none, stood in the lines, pushing n pulling, to wait impatiently for their turn.
made me think...watever happened to "all are equal in front of god" theory?apparently that divine rule is applicable only in the higher divine territory. down here on ug old earth, u still ve the classes set, places fixed. caste system's sure has been abolished, but nw we ve given rise to a whole new set of priviledged class. maybe yesterday's oppressed re today's empowered, but some still re stuck nowhere.
i wondered, if i felt so suffocated during the couple of hours i was in there, how will the gods feel, who ve to put up with this on a regular basis???the smoke, the sounds, the sickening smiles, the pleas of the devoted n the despairing. oh lord! maybe thats wat makes them divine . or maybe thats y they limited it to once a year rather than 24/7.
u know, once one of my best friends, in one of her more sober, i-need-to-think-about-the-higher-purposes-of-life moods wondered, if god was a man or a woman (she went ahead to write some few thousand words advocating both sides i believe). i think god's gender leanings are beyond the point. man or woman. he(or she) has got to ve a damn neat sense of humour! n he...or she, must be really really crazy when he/she made man/woman(i mean i cant really be sure who came first...bible i believed, wasnt exactly faxed from heaven!)

me???really????

2005-11-05T20:05:00.000+05:30

Your Hidden Power Is Windthis was an online quiz thingy i took...the site i came to knw bout from another blog. this is supposed to be my test results, description if u will. the pic sure is a highly ambitious representaion as far as my looks go, but ha!who cares! the quote took my breath away!y???(thats a personal secret that u dont need to know!!!!) :D

You have a twisted soul. You change your
directions and mind easily. Your beauty is you
over powering feature. But many enemies are
surprised by your beauty and your great power
to control wind

Gem Stone: Amethist, Eye
Color:Grey Blue,Hair Color:Grey that
goes to your shoulder Blades

Quote:And if the cloud bursts, thunder
in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different
tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.

What Is Your True Hidden Power? .::Beautiful Anime Pics::.
brought to you by Quizilla

2005-10-07T18:02:00.000+05:30

i'm just fuming rite now!i just checked my mail n i've this mail from some guy who says he found my inbox open wen he tried to sigh in into yahoo.he found some "beautiful messages" in it apparently so he took the liberty of forwarding them to himself! n then he has the audacity to say that i should be extremely careful while signing out, because otherwise it fall in the wrong hands! the nerve of the jerk! ok, he found my inbox open, he could ve jst signed out cldnt he? i mean how difficult is to click that tiny link man? but no, he has to go through all my mails! n then send me a mail saying i should be careful! ok i admire his honesty atleast, but i'm fiearcly protective of what i call my private space, n my mails, my letters, n my journal top that. the fact that some creep actually had the access to some of my most personal communications, just sends shivers down my spine. i'm usually extremely cautious while signing off, but dunno how the slip happened.
it makes me wonder...there are so many things that one just takes for granted in life, right? i mean, u assume that because u work n think in a certain way others would too. because u think another person's personal space is sacred, n something to be respected, u'd think that the world ll do the same too. but the fact is that, well this world is filled with as many sickos as with decent people. i'm not attributing that this guy is a sicko...well he didnt misuse my id (well i sure as hell hope he didnt!!!!) , but he's definitely for whom matters like privacy, n individuality, mean zilch. he did what he did with a carelss disregard for me as a person. n that infuriates me. sure i'm an unknown face for him, but that doesn't make me any less a person. n that doesnt giv him the right to invade my privacy.

privacy???

2005-10-07T17:19:00.000+05:30

mua

2005-09-29T19:55:00.000+05:30

i thought i's start with me.i'm...well...confused!clueless more precisely!there was a time,not so long ago when i thought that i knew who i'm. and then life took over! life, for some inexplicable reason decided that enough was enough, n i, this teeny tiny(well, not SO tiny perhaps!) being in this big bad world, should not be allowed to have such huge misconceptions about myself. so it (i'll settle for 3rd person, coz i'm not sure if life's gal or a guy) made my "higher mental processes" in motion...that's just a fancy way of saying that i started pondering over things (well my dear close friends call it "brooding over nonsense" n "thinking too much" n other such less flattering names, but lets not get into that now). and THEN i realised that there is a hell lot that i dont know bout myself. i thought i was a pretty mature person, but then why do my feelings seem so trivial and kiddish at times? i thought i was strong, but then how come i get so easily hurt at times? how can i be friends who, are not only totally different from me, but are opposits to each other too?how can i hate mush in real life, but still enjoy romantic comedies?hell i didnt even know what my fav colour was!(ahem...i still can't make up my mind on that!!!)...since then i've been always trying to figure me out...well without much success, fortunately or unfortunately!
anyways, it's been kinda fun being me though! have had a pretty decent life so far...so i can tell u the basics. was born to malayalee parents, which makes me a keralite...n for a good nine years of my life i was in gud ol' kerala. but in 4 diff cities though. my dad has a transferable job, so every three years we all(that's me, my dad, my ma, n a bro) pack our bags n hopp to the next place that becokns. this kind of a gypsy's life suits me. we got to see, n learn a lot of things that people who are permanently rooted in a place miss out on...diffrent people, different cultures, n blah like that. but cant say it come without a price...i've no sense of stability in life, in the sense, there is no place that i call home, coz that has always changed, before i could make any permanent affections. home's just where my folks are, n that's gud enough for me actually.
well, schools...went to KVs mostly, then a brief 2 years in a public school in delhi, n nw in college, doing what i wanted to do since i was 8 years old...journalism.n here again is the catch. i fought with my whole clan, who like all gud mallus believe that engineering n medicine are the only decent profession for any kid to take up, to get into journalism. n now, after 2 n a half years, i'm not sure! can u beat that?well, i knw for sure that i wanna be a part for this huge world of media, but am i ready to take on the cynnicism that is part an parcel, n these days the main component of journalism?dunno...well i've another 6 months to decide.n well, there is still hope!
that, think is enough bout me in a post.even i cant take too much of me so there!cheers to life(u see, beyond the confusion n crap, i still love IT!;)