The canary airs her thoughts..

The others

2011-12-10T21:40:00.001-08:00

“You couldn’t make it any more obvious, could you?”
“Relax, its fine. Leave him alone, now.”
“Tilak, you stay out of this. You know any stupidity can draw attention to the entire clan.”
“You are beginning to pick up regular human emotions, especially the most explosive out of them all, anger.” Ravi smiled at Nayna. “Mom.”

“Why can’t you be more like Ravi? He is just- so brilliant!” Anu kept the onion omelette on the table along with a pitcher of orange juice.
Karan chewed on his cornflakes softly. He poured some juice in a stain-painted crystal glass and looked at his father sitting at the head of the table, fiddling with his palmtop.
“The perfect grades in school, numerous awards in extra curricular activities and the school basketball captain.” Anu took the place opposite Karan. “Your teacher just wouldn’t stop praising him. You should have seen the pride on his parents’ faces.” She poured some tea in her Kanji Design Japanese Tea Cup.
“Karan, basically the point is that you are getting into college next year and there will be much higher competition there. You will have to work much harder.” Prem finished the last piece of his onion omelette and got up from the table.
Karan stuffed the rest of the cornflakes in his mouth, gulped them down with the orange juice and leapt up from the table to avoid more badgering.
“Now where are you running so early in the morning? Karan? You have to help me do the grocery shopping every Sunday, remember-” Anu shouted as he darted across the living room and exited through the main door.
The fresh morning air immediately got to work. Karan looked at the splendor of spring around him. The green by lanes of Jaya Nagar were abuzz with birds and decked with flowers. Creepers descended from lavish balconies. A concoction of fresh scents hung in the air. He was already beginning to forget the final examination results that were declared yesterday.

When his friends told him that being an only child saved him from constant competition with his siblings, they failed to realize that it actually opened the entire sixteen-year old world as a point of comparison. And instead of being compared with the brother or the sister, he could be compared with the best-in-each-field sixteen-year old. Or with one dynamite like Ravi.
“Wonder what he eats in the morning, bugger. Pretends to be my friend and then becomes a constant agony for me. If only I could throw the ball like him…” Karan remembered the day when Ravi had edged him to become the basketball champion.
When Ravi had joined the school two years back as a shy and reticent kid, Karan had been one of his first friends. He had helped Ravi settle down and get familiar with the school and the area.
“Hi Karan!” An excited voice came from behind and Ravi turned around, disbelieving. “Great to see you! You have met my mom, right?”
“Hello, beta, how are you?” Ravi’s mom, Nayna, had an angelic smile.
“Thank you aunty, I am fine. How are you?” Karan moved forward with heavy steps.
“I am fine too. What are doing out here?”
“Uh- just going to get something to drink. Uh- it is a bit hot- uh cold, I mean-” Karan was never good at making excuses.
“In that case, why don’t you come over to our house? I can make you something nice to drink.”
“No way! Uh, I mean I need to get home to go to the mall with my mom. You know, for grocery shopping.” He managed a smile.
“Which mall?”
“Forum?” A wild guess. He raised his eyebrows. Then sensing no adverse response, he added. “Yes, that, Forum.”
“But didn’t you read in the papers? It is closed for a VIP visit till lunch hours.” This was Ravi, the spoilsport.
“Huh? Uh- really?” Karan looked around but there was nobody who could rescue him. “These VIPs! They are just too much! Don’t think anything before bringing the world to a standstill. The worst is the traffic blockages when their cars have to pass.”
“True.” Nayana nodded disinterestedly. “Okay, so then, you’re joining us for a drink. A cold coffee if you’re feeling hot and a hot chocolate if you’re feeling cold. You can make up your mind till we reach our place.” She smiled again.
There was pretty much no choice left as Karan found himself walking in between Ravi and his mother, three of them headed home after a long day, like a happy family.

Ravi’s house was large and luxurious. His father worked for an international company based out of Dubai, that’s all Karan knew, apart from the fact that they moved to India because of his mother’s health. The main door was gigantic with sharp metal arrows on top, ready to pierce through anybody who tired to infiltrate. There was a huge lawn in front lined with flowering and non-flowering plants on opposite sides. A water sprinkler shook his head in the center of the garden, disapproving of the heat beginning to set in.
Glass panels opened into a huge living room laden with classy furniture, colorful pieces of art and some fancy electronic gadgets. Karan had been here before but every time he was equally amazed.
“Okay boys, I will be back with goodies. You two can chill out.” Nayna left the room.
Ravi picked up the remote control. “Wanna watch TV?”
“No, man. We always do that.” Karan tried hard not to look jealous, irritated or bored. He looked around. “Actually I want to see your new gaming console, the one you said you bought.”
“Hmmm, okay. Let’s go. It is in my room.”
“Cool.”
Ravi’s room was palatial.
“Wow, this is killer, man! I can’t believe this. You actually live in this room?”
“Yes, I do.” Ravi giggled like a girl, amused at Karan’s reaction and proud of his room.
“How come I have never seen your room before, man? Very surprising.”
“Yeah. Something or the other happened I guess and we had to leave or something.” Ravi switched on the console.
“Shakira’s posters? Hahaha!” Ravi said looking at the wall behind the bed.
“I like her.” Ravi smiled.
“Yeah, she is hot, but you know she is very short, around five feet or something. But she is hot. And the way she moves… Oh man!” Karan hurried towards the console. “Wow, this is good stuff.”
“Aye aye! NOT THAT ONE! That switch is not for the console.” Ravi’s eyes almost popped out. “Heh, I got scared. You know- the house has some wiring issues. If you switch on some wrong thing, it may, you know- burst or something.”
“Really? Oh God, got to be careful then.”
“Yes. Just don’t touch anything. Let me handle it.”
“Okay.” The light from the monitor lit up Karan’s face and his childlike excitement got even more pronounced. “Can I play?”
“Sure.” Ravi gave him a remote control.
Ravi pressed the ‘up’ and ‘down’ buttons. One of them was stuck. “This button is not working.” He looked at Ravi who was adjusting the brightness on the screen. “May be I can try this one-” He pulled a second remote from behind the monitor that he had seen while standing. He pushed the center button.

“NOT THAT ONE!!! THE WIRING! THE-” But it was too late.
Karan’s instant reaction after coming back to consciousness, eyes still closed, was to feel for burns on his body because of the short circuit. But there were none. Karan opened his eyes. And went numb.
Colors had never looked so enigmatic. The green of the trees was emphasized by the brightness of the leaves and the vastness of the branches. Ribbons of leaves hung from each tree, caressing the ground. Some ribbons interlocked with each other to form paths stretching into the horizon.
Water flowed somewhere at a distance sending misty vapors this way, splashing silvery white onto the green.
Large chandeliers of light in all sizes and lengths dropped from the sky adding to the riot of colors.
Below, paths started to different destinations in all directions.
Karan gaped speechless. This must be his dream. But he did not know this was the kind of subconscious stuff he thought of. Or he could be dead. But he was not sure if this was what heaven was supposed to look like. He stood up unsteadily.
“There you are!” This familiar voice had never felt so comforting and welcome.
Karan swirled around to find Ravi walking towards him from amidst the bushes with ribbon leaves.
“I’m glad you are fine. You are a brave man.” Ravi was cheerful. “We thought you people will not be able to take the environment here.”
Karan stared as a hundred and forty-five questions / thoughts / responses formed in his brain.
Finally he said, “What?”
Ravi smiled. “What what?”
“What are you talking about? And where are we?”
“We are in the Otherland.”
Karan waited for more to be added, but Ravi thought this was enough explanation. “Ravi, my mind will explode. What the hell is this Otherland. And- uh- who are you?” In situations like this (actually there had been no other situation like this), Karan’s temples were lined with sweat, but right now he felt strangely cool. “Please tell me!”
“Karan, you are my best friend in the school and in that world. You have helped me on numerous occasions. And this is the only reason I am telling this to you.”
Though highly confused and frightened, Karan wisely nodded.
“This is a land inhabited by the Otherpeople. We have been living here for millions of years.” He sat down on a pebble that grew to take the shape of his body. “Our version of your scientists keeps experimenting and accidentally they devised this unique thing where we can go outside the Otherland and experience life in the rest of the universe. That was what brought me to Earth.” He looked excitedly at Karan who looked like a tornado had hit him. “You don’t believe any of it, do you?”
“I- you- I don’t know what to say. But this is all too fantastic to be real.”
“It is real in our world, yes unreal by your standards. That is why the ones amongst us who choose to go to planet Earth have to tone down so considerably!” He laughed.

“Ravi!” A sharp voice loomed in the air.
“Scientist!”
“Delightful to see you after so long.”
“Same here, believe me.”
A tall man with graying hair walked towards Ravi. Karan saw as they stood face to face for a long time and just looked at each other.
“Oh, some of these experiences seem priceless!”
“I told you, scientist! I researched well before I made the choice to go to Earth. And besides, my friends Anu and Tilak were there for company. We had such fun.”
The old man had meanwhile fixed his gaze on Karan and was melting him with stares that made him feel naked.
“Yes, you are naked in my thoughts right now.” The old man said. Then he looked at Ravi. “Who is he?”
“Karan. From Earth. We were-”
“That I saw, but why is he here?”
“It was an accident.”
“Bad. Very bad.”
“Scientist, we-”
“We must go to the center. Let the others decide.”
“But they will… Can you help us?” Ravi said.
“Let’s go.”
“Karan, follow us.” Ravi looked at Karan.
“What?” Karan thought for a moment. “But what is happening?”
No answer.
“And how did you know that I was thinking?
“Scientist can read thoughts.”
Karan scampered behind, out of a mix of fear and curiosity.

Flowers bloomed all around, sprouting from the ground, hanging from trees, embracing any surface they could find, in a blend of colors, red, orange, blue, yellow, violet. Creatures resembling butterflies hovered over them, with wings like mulberry silk.
Suddenly Karan remembered. “The ones amongst you?”
“Huh?”
“You said before Scientist came in.”
“Yes, the hippies amongst us, you can say.”
“No, I am referring to the ‘ones’ amongst you on Earth. And uh- Anu? You said she is your friend?”
“You ask too many questions!” Ravi breathed. “The others who have gone to Earth from here are allowed to stay at one place for as long as they want, but they can never go back once they come back here. Like is the case with me now, thanks to your stupidity.” He gave Karan a pat on his head.
“Who are these others? Do I know them?”
“Some of them, like you would know the ones around your area or school. Mr. Reddy, for example.
“Mr. Reddy!”
“Yes, and Maria.”
“Wow! So, they are all around! In school, markets, hotels… Who could have guessed! Is Jay one of you people too? Man, the way he bowls!”
“No he isn’t!” Ravi laughed. “Human beings can be good at their work too!”
“Oh God! The amount of time I spent being envious of you! If I knew, I would have focused on other productive things!”
“That is the problem with humans, my dear.” Scientist turned around, and Karan froze where he was. “Some of you people take yourselves too seriously. My career, my job, my achievements, my family, my ego… All that is time badly spent. And you, Karan, you spent a lot of time in self pity.”
“He did?” Ravi looked surprised.
“You- couldn’t- read my thoughts?”
“No, only Scientist can, he has worked hard to get that skill.”
“Phew!” Karan scratched his nose.
Ravi inhaled something deeply. “Okay, I can smell it. We are at the center now. I did not realize I was missing it that much.”

Karan looked around.
Men and women sat around a huge atrium. When they saw Ravi, they got up and walked towards him. But the temper kept changing as they began noticing Karan.
“Karan, you wait in that corner, I will be back.”
Though none of the faces betrayed any emotions and there was no shouting, Karan knew something was deeply wrong. He could see Ravi pitted against a large group, answering and explaining. Karan pretended to look elsewhere every time eyes turned in his direction. Finally the meeting broke.

“Hey, sorry that took a bit of time. By the way, meet Ronny. He is really excited to meet somebody from another planet.” Ravi pointed to a boy on his left side.
“Hi Ronny.”
“Hi.”
“Ravi, what is wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ravi averted his gaze.
“Then please tell me how I came here.”
“The remote control. I was experimenting with the- It is a long story.” Ravi cut himself short when he saw a group walking towards them. “I will be back.”
But the group instead walked all the way to Karan.
“You can not be here.” One of them addressed Karan directly.
“I want to explain something. It is not his fault. He is a good guy.” Karan led them slightly farther away.
“Nothing matters. We are what we are because we have remained pure over ages. That can not change now.” A second person said.
“If one has come, others can follow.” The first one added.
“How is it that everybody is talking in my language?” Ravi shrugged his shoulders.
“They are not. You just think that we look and talk like you. It is images inside your brain which are projecting us in this form.” Ronny said.
“So you people have no form?”
“This is how we were made – by something like a chemical reaction under favorable circumstances.”
“And you will never die?” Karan looked around at everybody.
“What’s dying?” Ravi winked.
“Wow! Immortality-!”
Ravi came back and looked at Karan. Then he said to Ronny, “Trouble. They do not agree.”
“I told you. And they have a point.”
“But it is not his mistake. We can at least try sending him back!”
“Yeah, my parents must be worried sick by now. How long has it been anyway?” Karan tapped his watch which had stopped running.
“He does not realize how serious this all is. I have never seen all of them behaving like this,” said Ronny.
“Yeah, its like I am back on earth, a land of angry emotional monkeys.” Ravi looked around.
“Hello? I am standing here.”
“And that is what is causing all of this.” Ravi looked at him.
“What do we do now?” Ronny asked Ravi.
“We can hide him.”
“Right! This is not Earth. They will sense him anywhere.”
“The lake. He can hide inside it till this settles.”
“You are brilliant.” Ronny said. “But how will you deal with them?”
“I will think of something. You take him quickly.” He turned to Karan. “Go.”

“Ravi, I am not sure exactly what is happening. But thank you so much. You know- I- I have to confess. I used to be so jealous of you because you were brilliant in everything. And now the way you are helping me! I-”
“Just go.” Ravi turned around and started walking towards the group again.

Ronny stopped after walking for around five minutes. “We have reached the lake.”
“Where?”
“A little ahead.”
And soon enough Karan saw the clearest blue he had ever seen spread in the form of water. The water was still.

“Okay, you should be safe here. Now jump.”
“You know what I was thinking, why don’t you people send me back. I will never utter a word to anybody about the Otherland or the Other people on Earth.”

“Good joke. Now jump.”

Two hours and beyond...

2011-11-23T06:47:00.001-08:00

Time is but the stream I go a-fishin in.

- Henry David Thoreau

Being a woman seems to come with an unwritten nature’s manual. Without being told, explained or coached, a woman as a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother carries out her life, more often that not, faultlessly. This manual in invisible ink guides us mysteriously and helps us make difficult decisions that sometimes surprise even ourselves. It opens doors when we find deadlocks, it shines light when we feel clueless and it tells us what to do when we most need it.

Though mothers have received the gift of this manual, they bask in surprise when they see their daughters performing the role of a perfect wife; and though daughters have received it, they gloat in astonishment when they see their old mothers assiduous and never giving up. For me, as a daughter, a wife and a daughter-in-law, I have so frequently put family before everything that it seems normal to me now. On top of it, as a careerista, I have so frequently slogged for my work, my targets and my deadlines that it has become a customary part of my existence. This means that out of the twenty-four hours in the day, taking out precious six to seven hours of sleep, I spend almost eighteen hours fussing over my career and my family.

So when Surf excel matic asks me what I will do if I get two extra hours in a day, a great smile plays on my lips. I know the answer almost instantly without thinking. And I am not talking of any ‘me’ time here. By spending time with my family and my work, I feel I am anyway doing things that make me happy and that too selfishly, wholly and gorgeously ‘me’-time happy. :)

What I will actually do is enter that mysterious parallel world that exists all around me, that I can sense and feel, that I can hear the breathing of, but have never tried to enter. Using the pretext of these extra two hours, now I will make myself walk through its threshold, soak myself with it and utterly experience every bit of its mystery. To enter this world, let me first close my eyes and imagine something similar to Platform 9¾ from which the Hogwarts Express may be boarded.

Ah! For now I have entered this world in my thoughts and let me introduce it to you. But before I do, let me warn you not to expect anything ‘outwardly’; because this is not ‘out’ of anywhere. This world exists parallely, right where you live, and only needs you to open yourself and your senses to it.

This is a world where, on a fresh crisp day, a bridge across a gurgling steam captures your eyes, the bustling sound of the water captures your hearing and its cool splash on your skin captures your touch.

This is that world where the splendor of a vast mountain on a balmy autumn afternoon enamors your mind, its rugged contours enamor your feet and the amber-golden sun setting into it enamors your vision.

In this world you are fully aware of every breath you inhale and every step you take. All your senses are alive and registering everything that is happening. If you pass a field blossoming with beautiful flowers, you stop to look at the pretty pink roses, the shining yellow mustard and the lush green wilderness.

This is also the world where a laughing child steals your heart, her sparkling eyes captivate your mind and her sweet innocence captivates your spirit.

In this world, every thing that is done is mindful of the larger picture. Every moment is seized and every creature living alongside us is noticed and appreciated, no matter how small or insignificant.

The colors that make Earth and the entire world of stars so mesmerizing are not ignored as if they were commonplace, but stared at with the awe that they deserve. The mauve of lightening is watched, the white of thunder is observed and the deep blue of ocean is loved.

In this parallel world, everything that comes together to make our life what it is, is relished with complete consciousness and a deep understanding. This understanding is not that of an ascetic, a sadhu, a yogi or a mystic. It is of somebody who realizes that there is something more to life than just being in the here and now robotically. It is of somebody who acknowledges this presence of an alternate parallel world where anybody can enter if he or she can see the permanence and at the same time the transience of everything. With this profound insight, he or she can hear the call of this world, out to fill us with happiness and take away all our trivial worries. In this world, all sights, sounds, smells, colors, shapes and wonders come together and hold the key to delighting us.

Spiritual or philosophical as it may sound, this parallel world only struck me with its presence when I was going through my photography collection. I have clicked them during trips and vacations over the past few years. Seeing them and finding myself a stranger to their aura and magnificence, a realization hit me hard that in order to save ‘time’, I had quickly captured instances and never actually admired those instances with all my senses. Despite being lucky enough to have had the opportunity to explore some magnificent places, people and things, I had remained in a shell overcome by my own thoughts and preoccupations.

So if I get two extra hours in a day, I will just sprinkle them all over the rest of my day! I will do everything I do with more serenity, awareness and thought! I will watch more of the morning sky, savor more of my morning tea, laugh more with my husband over breakfast, labor more leisurely over my work, relish more of the sunset and enjoy more of my sleep! Oh, how wonderful that day will be!

P.S. Writing this blog-post has not added and will not add two hours to my day, but it has definitely made me understand that my current day is twenty-two hours plus two extra hours. Time is just a virtual reality within the infinite reality that nature has allowed us to work inside. So humans created the concept of time just to understand the mysterious interplay of day and night. They made daylight savings and time differences to bend to the might of the sun and the moon. They made clocks and watches just to organize this monster they had created called time. So, we are actually just caged birds behind intricately woven golden bars of a prison that we created for ourselves.

P.P.S. But that said and done, I also understand fully what is going on to my bathroom shelf next! Something blue and red and beautiful, to take out those stubborn stains and make me a free bird! ;)

P.P.P.S. This post has been written for the Surf Excel Matic #GetSmart Contest. If you enjoyed it, please click here to vote for it and click on Facebook icon ‘like’ next to the post. Thanks :)

An Aff(h)air To Remember!

2011-11-08T04:58:00.000-08:00

ACT 2

SCENE 1

TIME: Night – The fall of 2011

SETTING: Upstage area suggests a dining room. Downstage area has a dining table next to a cupboard.

(AT RISE we see Cn, late twenties seated at the dining table. She has not yet started eating and in busy in an animated conversation. There is no other human character on the table, neither a Bluetooth that most people talk to these days, confusing those around.)

SwH: So we have decided to give you this ultra fab look for the project success party! *expecting smile*
Cn: But guys…
PH (excitedly interrupting): Hear her out fully! You will not refuse it once you know what we’re saying!
Cn (sighing): Ok, tell me… (pauses) SH and WH, I hope you’re a part of it?

SH and WH: Of course we are!

Cn: Ok, then continue.
SwH: So it is this bombshell blowout that Amanda Seyfried sported at the premier of “In Time” and did she look outright smashing or what!
Cn: One minute! I know that look. You know there is a lot of towel-drying and volumizing involved, right? Don’t we all know how much you hated it?
SwH: I…
Cn (interrupting): PH, there is anti-frizz, Velcro rollers and hairspray. You OK with that?
PH: Well…
Cn (interrupting): And SH and WH! You guys always complain after everything is over – I don’t want any of that, mind you!
SwH, PH, SH, WH and SoH (all together): We know! Can you please listen!!
Cn: I would have, if there was a project party in the first place.

Well, though I stumped them (for a bit) with my anti-climactic reply, the project party did eventually happen. And though I did not remotely look like Amanda (no, I did not even remotely imagine I would – see the picture below to know what I mean), I did manage to What-o-Wonder the entire Work-o-World ;)

But things were always not so smooth. No, SwH, PH, SH, WH and SoH did not always get along like a house on fire. No, they did not always conspire to make me look smashing… quite the opposite if you ask me. They made every effort to make me look like a character straight out of Supandi comics. At parties, my hair looked like it had been styled in a juicer-mixer. In office, it looked like it was freshly washed and starched in a twin-tub washing machine. So for them to reach this level of understanding and companionship is quite remarkable, if you ask me. And for me to get groovy with them and totally get them is out of this planet, if you ask me!

“Ok, ok, but who the hell are these five!” That’s what you actually ask me.

Well let me introduce the imps then. *Imagine trumpets and biguls*:

CAST OF CHARACTERS

SwH……………………………………………………………………. Shower hair
PH……………………………………………………………………… Party hair
SH……………………………………………………………………… Sleep hair
WH…………………………………………………………………….. Work hair
SoH…………………………………………………………………….. Shopping hair
Cn…………………………………………………………………Yours truly, the Canary

(50 bucks you read the story again, didn’t you?)

Now that you have met the characters, scenes showing the mischievousness of my imps will make sense. Though now when I look back, I wonder who the mischievous one actually was. Sample this instance from my college days.

ACT 1

SCENE 1

TIME: Morning – The spring of 2000

SETTING: Upstage area suggests a crowdied traffic jam. As is typical of Indian drivers, people are honking incessantly despite knowing that it won’t help in anyway. Downstage area has a car with a lone driver.

(AT RISE we see Cn, late teens, as the lone driver in the car, in the thick of the jam, sitting resignedly at the steering wheel. She is wondering why the sweet-voiced RJ is so chirpy at every inane topic that is being discussed.)

SoH (freaked out and standing up): Ridiculous!
SH (sadly): Tell PH that! With the spray and curler and tongs and the paddle brush that it subjected me to last night, imagine my horror. I could not do anything but suffer in pain after everything.
PH: You guys don’t get me started. I am the reason you get so much care. Cn wants to see me delighted and pretty so she invests time with SwH and SH especially.
SwH: Yeah yeah right, that is why I still have some pieces of your monstrous permineralized fossils left in me that didn’t go with any amount of shampoo or conditioner.
PH: Dude! How can I help that! Look at this chick’s bathroom shelf. She has eleventy bajillion bottles, jars and boxes that house things that have names like food items but are to be deposited on the scalp in various capacities and positions. I can’t even begin to guess the difference between things she has. Nourishing Illuminating Cream, Body Building spray, Elasticizer, anti frizzle, vitalizing mask, moisture balancer, remoisturizer, hair diet, smoother, shiner, maximizer, softner, styling froth, color extender, curl conditional, curl refiner, color strengthener, color extender. And that’s just on one of the countless shelves.

I don’t know about you guys, but I was in a weird zone during college. Though I was in one of what they call as the intellectual subjects, looking good was insanely important for me somehow. Beats me why. And as you can see, I was not part of conversation between SwH, PH, SH, WH and SoH that time. I did not even understand them, rather was completely oblivious to them. I colored my hair dark brown and thought it was too dark, then colored it blonde and thought it was too light, then colored is burgundy and thought it was too pedestrian, then colored it copper and thought it was not quite what I wanted, then picked up my shiny purse and marched into my fav salon to color it again and the salon lady helped I by my elbow telling me to go back home and return not before a year, the instant she saw me walking through the door.

Not sure if it was this polite treatment by the salon lady or the insanity that work-life subjected me to, the lunacy (most of it, at least) of college started draining after I started working. With hardly time to even catch sights of my hair in mall / airport / restaurant windows, I started becoming more aware of signs they were giving me. I started understanding their language. I was beginning to acquire the privilege the being privy to discussions among my hair. I always prided myself in the love that I showered on my hair. I told everyone how my first grey hair was more evocative / harrowing / sense-numbing than my wedding / first kiss / first crush / exam flunked / office presentation screwed / confrontation with the guy my car knocked / losing my baggage and passport in that new foreign country. But now I was commencing to realize that mine was not really selfless love that it ought to be.

SwH, PH, SH, WH and SoH wanted me to look fabulous in parties, well-groomed at work and beautiful on my shopping trips. They went through the agony I put them through in the form of stress, dirt, pollution and styling; and yet put up a sparkling show whenever I paraded them. And I thought I reciprocated well… solely by handing over pre-treatment, in-treatment and post-treatment hair care products, that by the way now I don’t recognize and remember the use for.

It has been a learning journey that probably will continue forever but I am glad it even started. Now I know that to have happy party hair, I need happier shower hair. If my shopping hair is treated like a lady in blazing sun and grating dust, my work hair will blossom like a spring daisy. And if I hear the subtle snivels of my delicate sleeping hair, my party hair, work hair, shower hair and shopping hair will all bless and hail me!

Now, while I still tease my tresses to get the looks I desire in my dreams, I am sensitive and loving in return. I do not want to go into tips and tricks that I read in health magazines or got from dermatologists because you can find them in every single woman’s magazine or on the internet. But if you do want some of the wisdom, drop me a note and I will be happy to share! Briefly, like that pivotal scene in “27 Dresses”, I have cleared the crap I had accumulated without thinking. I keep a count of the number of glasses of water I drink and number of fruits I consume. I read up on how I can get Vitamin C and Collagen, L-Carnitine, Iodine & Thyroid; and Biotin B7 (Vitamin H) through food I intake. I try and clean and rest my hair well. But mostly, I just listen to my hair in their own language… mostly I just give them quality time and genuine attention… mostly I just love them and I mean it. And the more I do so, the more they love me back.

It is this giving that I enjoy the most now, it is the understanding that giving is the essence of any relationship that I cherish…and it is this awareness that makes every moment I live – a wow moment.

Getting snug with fashion at QVENDO

2011-10-16T05:16:00.000-07:00

When two scrawny young men from Jewish immigrant communities in The Bronx, New York dropped out of college with elephant sized imaginings in their eyes, they scarcely knew that their fruits of passion would become the global signature of style. Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren have always played games with fashion and have almost always won. And now, lo and behold! In the autumn of their life, they have made an online leap along with many other sizzling designers, opening the world of fashion and oomph to a fervent virtual audience, and alongside redefining the way people shop worldwide. QVENDO is one such ultra fabulous virtual place that stocks everything that is sexy, sweet and sophisticated on the planet.

If you wanted a glimpse inside the wardrobes of all modern day style icons, just go and take a sneak peak at the QVENDO website (www.qvendo.com)! An invitation-only Private Shopping Club, its overall feel is like that of being in a personal Venician gondola with a shopping menu laden with luxurious fashion items handed to you. As the website rightly says, QVENDO opens your luxury gateway to Western fashion and accessories. And to top it all, all designer and exclusive boutique products are available at significant savings – with only a Rs. 900 shipping charge attached for ordering anywhere in the country! Awesomeness redefined people! All style questions – answered.

After cruising in my private gondola for a while, I asked myself what I will do if the sunny gondola man hands me over a magic voucher of unlimited QVENDO money. So after already having bought glamour sitting at home and style at my own comfort, I decided to go buy some more. Here is my wish list – what is yours? :D

1. Tommy Hilfiger by Helana Christensen( Limited edition) Handbag Yellow: I had read about this one before in couple of fashion magazines. The limited edition bag will be my first pick as is oozes style and has been designed to raise money for the Breast Health International. I feel that the oversized tote in the super soft leather is perfect for the season! The instant mood lifter trendy Mimosa yellow color and the metal knot detail clasp add tonnes to the style quotient! Can’t wait to get my hands on this one…

2. Coccinelle Shopper White: This beauty disguised as a bag calls out to me and how! Suited best for a buffet or drinks with my girl friends, it will be a proud addendum to my closet and help me transition instantly from a girl next door into a diva. I cannot wait for the fashgasm that this loveliness is going to bring me to! Please excuse me till I gasp...

3. Chloe Strap Peeptoe Black: Straight from the style mags of chic-dom, the peeptoe will indubitably stand out in any crowd, without being garishly loud. This is one devil on my toes that will not go unnoticed. Classy and sexy, it will go well with my dresses, jeans, pants and even Salwars – creating fireworks with each of them! And with Diwali and lots of card parties around the corner, this is the exact explosive I wanted dearies ;) I’ll let the breathtaking Peeptoe do the rest of the talking…

4. flip*flop Allday dress too light grey: Sigh! If I have been looking for a dress for all occasions, seasons and reasons to grace my wardrobe; my search ends today. My next pick will be the Allday dress to be foremost worn on an exclusive evening out with the doting husband… A perfect treasure with its vintage magnetism and styling, I have dreamt about this dress every single night, ever since I first laid my eyes on it! Brace up 2012, I am all set to make the style statement that will dominate the minds of all designers and all runways. 5. CK Briefcase: Time I picked something for the doting husband. Elegant in black, this leather and polyester briefcase may seem regular at first, but I looked it up and have come to looooove the elements that make it. The adjustable shoulder strap and the laptop softcase inside along with zipper pocket are easily two of the most comfy things he could ask for – total win-win according to me! And ya, I am partial to black since it suits my man. I can already see him using it for his meetings and proudly explaining to all and sundry how his wifey picked it for him very thoughtfully! :)

6. flip*flop Bamboo Dress whale blue: Having a sister who is far ahead of you in terms of fashion means that no matter how much you research, you want to cover your face with a thick curtain the moment you enter a party with her :P Well, it is a tall ask to order something for my à la mode sister, but I just worship this hottiee here! Stunning in blue and studded with that waist jersey belt, this outfit is unapologetically groovy, ain’t it? I think it totally goes with her fashion attitude that’s flirty and sumptuous. This one is for a beautiful woman – the easy tastefulness is a perfect match for her exuberance and free spirit. Droooool…..

7. True Religion T-shirt Hoody Grey: Very casual yet super sexy, this doll will be my partner in all crimes! Wait till I don it with the perfect pair of True Religion Jeans (I am tending towards the Bobby Straight Vin right now coz it is simply gorgeous! What do you think?) Ok, the T-shirt is sure for now but let me introduce the hot pair of denims below as well. Promise me you won’t faint when you see the pictures of perfection below, will you?

I have to stop now with bated breath waiting for the onset of sale on Joana Danciu, Replay jewel, Luis Trenker with all the to-die-for dresses, jackets, trousers, jewels and handbags for women and sweatshirts, shorts, T-shirts, jackets and outdoor apparel for men! Well till they are out, I will frame their pictures and hang them over my bed anyway.

In the hope that the very reasonable Rs. 900 will help me ship my dreams home (Since I have missed out on the special DIWALI offer of free shipping between October 12 and 27!!), I hop onshore with a firm resolution to come back and get serenaded again by my favorite designers. The love affair certainly has just started…

Indian bloggers have an exclusive sign-up available at the QVENDO website and if you are fascinated, you can use the link: http://qvendo.com/vip/indianbloggers. Please note that a lot of items are on sale and avilable only up to a certain date, including some items I have picked up, so if you wanna lay on claws on these fab things, sing "Fire in the mountain" and run, run, RUN!

Though the QVENDO membership is free, the value is certainly priceless! And as you indulge yourself, let me greet you on behalf of the Gondola man…

Welcome to next lap of luxury. Welcome to the new wave of style. Welcome to the latest phase of fashion. Welcome to QVENDO.

Credits: http://www.indiblogger.in/ , http://www.qvendo.com/

Indiblogging!

2011-10-02T01:08:00.000-07:00

Feels good to be back, reading and writing blogs... Landed somehow at www.indiblogger.in and found a host of resources, fabulous things to read and some interesting competitions that are tempting me to blog... Do check it out if you haven't yet already!

How much is too much?

2011-10-01T00:47:00.000-07:00

After an extended period of blog vacationing, in which time I had the pleasure of exchanging e-mails with a lot of readers of this blog, I am back! After blogging for almost five years regularly , this one year seemed exceptionally long and what I was doing to cut it short was weird. I was looking for excuses to be back, a reason that was worthwhile enough to blog about, trying to make sure I blogged about something significant etc etc. And off late I kind of see how silly I was being :D

Well, this is my blog, there are blogs of friends I love to read and there are friends who love to read my blog. So that is that. And I feel nice to be back! Intentionally keeping this a non-worthwhile post and will be back again soon!

Shadow of form

2010-02-09T22:22:00.003-08:00

Are you a shadow of a form or a form in yourself?
Born unwilling
In a pit or a cushioned cradle
Spanked wide awake
With a smile or a smirk
Humdrum and cacophony
Oppressive smells of a baffling land
Passed from hand to hand
Emotional assortment squashing my unprepared senses
The crinkled smile here
The mean frown there
The color discussed philosophically
The size debated with serious concern
I come to something that they tell me is home

Muffled voices
Alien tongue and gestures
Readymade choices to supposed independence
Sheltered copy of the world to manicured photocopy of who I should be

Follow codes or invent a new doctrine
Tread familiar paths or lead the ones lost
Look back into comfortable archives or break the fireman’s switch
Pick roses on your journey or mourn the thorns

The choices I make
The by lanes I take
The voices I heed
The affection I need
The chapters I write
The battles I fight
The poems I author
The ashes I scatter

(to be continued... or not?)

FIRST LOVE

2009-12-28T21:45:00.002-08:00

“Hello?”

The deep crackling voice hit Nitika like searing loo. The melodious British accent tingled her feelings tantalizingly.

“Good morning, sir. This is Rebecca from the Integrated Telecom company. I would like to discuss a mobile plan with you.” The Seventeen-year old peeped at the script.

“I already have a good plan, Rebecca.” A pause. “Thank you for calling anyway. Good day.” Click.

She hung on to the phone dreamily for some time. She was sure her dream lover, her prince charming had received her very first call. Then she looked at the idols of Lakshmi and Ganesha next to her computer, that were Baba’s gift in the morning.

She prayed for strength as the voice of her first love reverberated in her heart.

An excuse

2009-12-24T03:37:00.000-08:00

“Can you at least try and sit straight, Raghu?” She resorted to fake anger now, adjusting her spectacles.

“I am. I am trying my best, sweetheart.” He gulped the morsel as his lips quivered.

“Well, in that case your best is not good enough.” She slowly mixed the Dal and rice since he liked the flavors better when they blended afresh each time.

“You have been saying the same line for Fifty years now.” He giggled teasingly.

“Because my husband has been troubling me, making me feed him since the day of my wedding. Earlier out of naughtiness, now because he is getting on.” She hid the coy smile with mock irritation.

“Any excuse is fine, to get close to my love bird.” He winked.

HAPPINESS (cut short)

2009-09-21T04:13:00.000-07:00

How many times have you asked somebody “what do you want in life?” and the answer has been “happiness”? If you have not, then do go around doing a quick dip-stick and you will realize that alas, this is the standard answer that perhaps was printed on our brain when we were all manufactured in that unique super-efficient creature factory, hidden behind inaccessible cloudy barricades.

But if you ask these same people what is happiness, you would encounter a strange lull. They either do not know the answer, or are confused, or volunteer with something that they think is right, only to realize a little later, and on several occasions at that, that something else normally turns out to make them ‘happy’. Or does it?

I read somewhere that there are only two approaches to life – the victim approach and the victimizer approach. Gory as it sounds, it is really simple and sweet. It means that either we accept that it is we who create and influence everything that happens in our life, which means we are the victimizer, OR we deem that we are the victim and things ‘happen’ to us, situations and experiences occur without our own control. The choice is totally ours. Basically, when you take responsibility for all of reality, then you give yourself the power to change anything within reality; having a handle on your own life – governing what occurs and influences you – or rather making sure it is you, and only you that influences you.

So many times if we dissect any ‘difficult’ situation we are in, we end up realizing that it is the conditions we have created in our mind that are making the situation difficult! You know, conditions about how we should be behaving, what we should be getting out of it, expectations of others from us, expectations of ourselves from us, expectations of ourselves from others; and the list is endless.

So what is my take on happiness? Well I feel we can start by doing everything we love and that makes us happy. But first, find out what makes you happy. Ask yourself this question even when it seems like the most the most tedious questions to answer. Ask yourself over and over again, in times disconnected to each other and see if the answer is consistent. Now break this answer down to the minutest of the detail – in a moment to moment manner. What about this happiness can you do on a moment to moment manner that makes you happy?

But do not mistake solutions to momentary anxieties and fears as true sources of happiness. And do not harm anybody – what goes around, truly comes around and this world works on the system of harmony – taking away somebody else’s happiness to make your own will yield, at best, temporary results. Similarly looking at somebody else’s happiness and hoping to steal it / replicate it because you have not looked inside yourself may, at best, yield superficial results because you are, of course, unique.

Half convinced, half confused

2009-09-16T23:06:00.000-07:00

I am happy today. Not only because I have returned to my oft-abandoned beloved blog and namma city Bengaluru, after a substantial gap of time, but also because I have just been in the company of some people I am feeling truly privileged to know.

So briefly what happened is: my excruciatingly boring weekends and the burning desire to learn music / dance formally led me in to a school close by. I enrolled for classes and geared up for some fun in the months to come.

After perhaps the second or third class one day, the coordinator / co-owner of the school spoke to us saying that she is facing issues with running the school in terms of finances and will have to vacate the premises and shift the classes elsewhere. The biggest reason cited was the magnitude of the rent and the differences in the vision of the two owners. All the students were understandably confused and there was hardly any response to her.

After she left, we were told that the second owner would like to talk to us and he descended upon us armed with snacks and a wide grin. Some pleasantries followed. The teacher sat there for some time smiling awkwardly and not knowing what to do, till it was obvious that the impending conversation will happen only once he gets going. So he leaves and we can see he is not fond of this half of the owner-pair. He makes gestures before leaving, instructing us to keep quiet and not divulge what the lady shared a while back. We brace ourselves.

The goodie man proceeds to tell us how the lady started out as a coordinator, requested for a partnership and now has antagonized all teachers, decided to vacate the place after manipulating everything in her favor. In short, she has duped him with a clever strategy and presently everything and everyone is going along with her and all our man is left with is an empty basement and a harmonium.

Chit-chat starts in the class gradually. And this is a classic case-study for anybody who is trying to find out how pain and drama gets humans pumped up, grouped together and animated. To be honest, I feel my share of angst at the calculations of the woman and sympathy for this eloquent victim. Opinions are shared back and forth while his tearful father also joins us, visibly stunned at the ‘degradation’ of the society.

The most vocal student commands the rest of us to follow him outside and directs the father-son combo to leave the matters to us. We parade in a straight queue, all anxious and stirred. Before the discussion can commence a tall fellow with a constant smirk remarks how these matters happen and should not be of any significance to us, we to continue the classes wherever the teacher goes as if nothing has transpired – make peace with the world, get your stuff going. Some others hum in agreement – half convinced, half confused. I smile inwardly – obviously this was to happen. Grown-ups don’t bother themselves with trivialities or ethics – they move on. Let’s be honest, I would have done just the same – why complicate my life with something so avoidable.

But just then, the leader’s voice rings aloud. “We are all intelligent and sensitive people – we will not behave apathetically and let this go. We are not here for the sake of it, but for inner satisfaction, but at what cost? This could be a management issue that is of least importance to us, but then there are people involved with real emotions.”

The mood begins to change. More people volunteer brave thoughts and ideas. I contribute my own two pence sheepishly. And a path-breaking statement is made about making an effort to put things in order, even at the risk of failure. The house is brought down. A decision is taken about the next course of action. People leave on a very upbeat note.

In a new town, it is nice to meet thinking people with a desire to spend time on a righteous effort – that is my instant thought. Much water has passed since that day and the lady and the teacher respectively have called each of us, selling their side of the story. But the positive thought remains with me.

The dark knight

2009-03-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

The night is dark in a very excitingly scary way. The roads are sparse and there in a hint of bad weather. The phone rings. A few cousins and friends are with me and we look at each other. I pick up the phone.

Nazi like voice from a 80s Hollywood movie: “Will you be the CEO?”

Me (fully aware that I can’t get that quality in my voice ever): “Uh, wha… what?” (I kill the lack of a forceful voice further with my downer of a stutter)

This time the same but almost Nazi like voice from a 80s Hollywood movie: “I said will you be the CEO?”

Me (apparently with a vague idea of what is being spoken about, but just to be sure): “A CEO?”

Friend T has meanwhile heard me talking and pounced upon me: “CEO?!?! Say yes!”

Me (almost confused): “Uh, okay.”

Click of the phone.

Me: “What was this all about?!”

Friend T (super excited): “CEO is the code word for the undercover agent! They were calling from CACO and you will be their lucky hero!”

Me: “What’s CACO?”

Friend T (in his 15 minutes of fame): “That’s the Central Agency for Clandestine Operations. The most prestigious investigative agency. With unlimited power.” He has clearly worked with them before. As a CEO. (?).

Me: “Well… I am not sure if I am up to it.” Why am I sweating so much! “I am sure it will involve dealing with criminals and goons! I have no experience of all of that.” Read in between the lines – I am feeling super faint-hearted (or make it sissy) even at the thought of a gangster or an assailant. I am hiding my hands behind my back so that friend T and others can not see what fingers shivering faster than a volcanic activity look like.

Friend T (clearly losing his head from the top of his broad shoulders and increasingly erupting with unsolicited arrogance): “Oh come on! It isn’t all that difficult. The strength lies within you. It is in the mind. Look for it inside you instead of outside somewhere. Blah blah blah (lasting five seemingly eternal minutes).”

Me: Well, I did not say anything but perhaps I thumped in to a chair. Perhaps they all saw my fingers trembling like a mad dog or perhaps I myself started trembling like one.

Friend T (reaction to a mad dog?): “I really thought you were brave – did not expect such a cowardly side of you.”

Me (hurt and infuriated, snapped out of the mad dog thankfully): “Oh please. If you really want to encourage, then do that. Do not use all these negative reinforcements or threats or whatever they are.”

Friend T (walking inside a room without talking and emerging out with some weird stuff): “Here, take these.” I look at the gadgets in a bewildered way. He hands over huge green roller skates to me. “These are faster that a leopard – give you real head start over any possible attacker.” Gulp. Next, he takes out this fat gun with some small red and green buttons. And wait, the gun has roller skates fitted on to it too. “A roller gun – will guard you ferociously.” Longer and more painful gulp – painful probably because my mouth being so dry, there is nothing left to gulp. And out comes a transistor or is it a black box? “This is a talking radio. It will scan all directions when you are on the move and keep you updated on what’s happening on all sides. You will always be on top of the situation knowing well in advance about who ever approaches you from any side.” End of gadgets – smug look on friend T’s face. I look wretchedly for more gadgets but find none forthcoming.

I look out of the window and promisingly enough, the CACO car has arrived and waiting around my corner. If they are so dreaded, then clearly all anti-social elements track their activities and they know they are at my door steps tonight. So when I will step in five minutes concealed beautifully in my gigantic green roller skates holding the overweight roller gun and the quaint talking radio, they will be left with no doubts that I am the new, you know what. CEO is way too asinine for me to pronounce. And so they will follow me dutifully and well, you know what. Okay, let me say it even if it is supremely dreadful for me to pronounce. Follow me dutifully and kill me. A really dry gulp.

{{This is an extract from my dream last night}}
{{No, seriously, what have I been eating?!}}
{{There was a short culmination, which in the hindsight seems more like a doctored climax to satiate and pamper my ego but I can bet it did happen in the same dream}}

And so I step out. The huge green roller skates are very cumbersome and I somehow stumble out of my door.

And the transformation begins.

The clothes are quickly shed in favor of a white coat and pant. A stethoscope is hunted out from behind a dumpster and hung around my neck by my confident fingers. The clumsy skates are discarded with a trace of a smirk.

The best undercover agent steps out in to the night and the garb of a doctor itself bows in honor. As she walks out in to the night, the CACO along with the many gangsters and goons make way, their fingers shivering like a mad dog that winks somewhere at a distance.

So why did you wake me up you said?

2009-02-14T09:50:00.000-08:00

Why did you end the night? Why did you wake me up?

I was so merrily rolling the window down and painting the town red with tobacco fountain-showers from my mouth.

I was so carefully washing my hands when the sweeper merely brushed past me.

I was so happily finishing the packet of potato chips and hurling the greasy non-degradable plastic packet below the very sign-board that read “No littering here.”

I was so skillfully pocketing shampoos and cutlery from hotels all over the world.

I was so joyfully judging people based on what they wore.

I was so happily evaluating them based on if they spoke English.

I was revering people if the color of skin was white and yet leaving no chance to fleece them, rape them and kill them.

I was objecting to movie titles, stand up comedy lines, speeches, press releases, going to restaurants, love, affection and everything else that was a part of a normal democratic life.

Why did you lift the veil of shadow from my face? Why did you let the light illuminate my eyes?

I was so happy being so… Indian.

Why did you end the night? Why did you wake me up?

The all India cartoon show

2008-12-08T03:40:00.000-08:00

Not that we did not know of it already but this incident has revealed the utter insensitivity of the people who rule our country. A woman loses her husband and they want to placate her with One Crore rupees? A man loses his son and they let their stupid insignificant ego say that not a dog would visit their ancestral family home? Citizens mourn the loss of their innocent loved ones and they say that women in lipsticks should not have any say? Can they stoop lower than this? Can they show any more signs of lack of basic human emotion and understanding?

If the ghastly terrorist attack was not enough, the so-called care-takers of our country, have made the atmosphere completely unbearable and bitter for me. At a time when I see people waking up around me to go to work / party / school / etc and instead get shot down by an incomprehensible species for absolutely no fault of theirs, a species that seems to be targeting anyone and everyone in their fight for a cause that most of us fail to understand, a species that is using religion brazenly as an excuse to make a complete mockery of any normal sense of mutual co-existence. Wasn’t religion supposed to be a code of conduct and principles to lead our lives harmoniously and with as less problems as possible? Whoever said this code of conduct was supposed to become an entry into a global competition where participant parties could any which way possible to make sure their contestant wins? Well, if the intention was this then this Miss / Mister Best Religion of the Universe has become too gruesome a competition to be played by civilized human beings now. And mind you this is one forceful contest. So forceful that now people from the same religion have started bombing each other and when caught, they cook filthy allegations against people trying to stop them (read ATS chief, who by the way, later lost his life in the Mumbai incident) and use every possible deplorable tactic to win. Let us put a break on it before it usurps the very mortals who were hypnotized by it into going crazy. We do not want to see any more of our people die for no reason or for foolish reason.

The so called intelligent media of our country hasn’t really lived up to any expectations either. Whoever said the responsibility of media is to report facts should sample out any news channel on Indian television right now for a rapid reality check. Before any expert committee or panel could be set up to discover the culprits, reasons, loopholes or logistics behind the attacks, our beloved Barkha Dutt and Pranoy Roy are all over the gaff already. So now these journalists are suddenly telling us what we should do / how we should react instead of telling us what actually happened. For that they obviously have their own cock and bull story.

The one satisfactory development is that people still seem to be talking about it and the much abused Mumbai spirit has thankfully had it away on its tows. But the cynical me says that just like the Jessica Lal or the Parliament case, nothing much will be done again and people will obviously have to go out to fend for themselves and get killed in the bargain. The British, when divided and ruled our country decades back did not know that they are setting a legacy. India, today is hopelessly divided in to two sets of people and one of them is the one that will vote for money, food, cloth and even alcohol. This is not to say that the other is particularly celestial or gifted – they will lift up their hands and say “What goes of our father.” Whenever you ask them about the country. But both the sets do not really want to have anything to do with the other or at least the latter doesn’t and the former has to accept this. And so the seasoned old politician divides. And rules. And we collectively stay right where we are. Need I say more?

Come, lets go dreadfully back in time

2008-10-22T07:39:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a book of short stories by Milan Kundera, one of the best known Czech authors. He is actually a Czech and French writer of Czech origin. Some of you, who haven’t read the author, may be familiar with the name because the guy has been in news recently for having allegedly once betrayed a spy to secret police. The author has however denied any such incident.

The book which has stories alluding to love and sexuality reminded me of how constrained we are as a society. In a particular story, a nurse trying to seduce the doctor performs a mock strip-tease and the gathered people end up discussing how the doctor should give in to the advances for the sake of her. I couldn’t fail to notice the openness of language and the candidness in referring to so many topics that we pride ourselves in banning in our beloved country. The head of the medical department does not stop the drunk woman from doing her quick dance despite the other doctor in question sitting there all blushed and embarrassed, and the fourth person in the group – a lady doctor who finds the young nurse very annoying, sits there quietly letting her articulate herself. Agreed it is a book of fiction but books, in any case, are some of the better sources of interesting insights into the lives and cultures of people far away that we cannot physically talk to. The author himself has found many of his books banned because of unsuitability to the values. But you have to read them to know why those books are banned. Even 10% of that written here would mean the author being chained, sawed and sent to space in an empty barrel with Rakhi Sawant for company.

I did imagine such a conversation unreservedly taking place in most educated homes in India and was suitably relieved about the freedom of expression. But I cannot fathom such a conversation taking place in most parts of our country. Which according to my limited understanding of psychology means suppressed opinions and needs? And which in turn means going about your life with concealed views and never knowing the bohemian pleasure of thinking beyond what is obvious in your own life. And this, even in close relationships like that of parent-child or husband-wife. And there is no reason to suspect this is not the case in India with news about Sati and child-marriage shockingly surfacing every now and then.

And just in case you wondered why I found the freedom of expression reassuring, (because that’s what I wondered when I gave the post a quick re-read)? Well. A bikini in Big Boss means a court case. Some flaunting of affection by couples in (or not, but how does it matter) love means Valentines Day is banned. The suggestion of inclusion of sex education in schools means a laughable furor. I mean I personally find Valentines Day too frivolous and I also believe that there has to be some amount of judgment that needs to be exercised when you are doing something that may impact other people. But how can you tell somebody else what they should wear or say or do! Who gave Bajrang Dal or Raj Thakrey’s men the power to decide what the rest of us Hindus or Maharashtriyans think? I cannot believe Christians cannot breathe in peace in Karnataka and Orissa; or north Indians cannot walk without being plagued by fear in Maharashtra! Ok, taking an example - what Hussein did was objectionable because it affected the religious beliefs of people from another religion but isn't that something in another league altogether? I think that falls under the category of society as a concept having been actually instituted so that people can peacefully live together... But at least let them 'Live' together.

Anyway with all this is happening around us shamefully, talking about societal constraints related to sexuality looks like a case of trying to jump to the fiftieth century, when people around you are stuck in the first.

No seriously, what is happening here? Did I miss a news piece somewhere being aired through our omnipresent Indian media, which declared the rechristening of India into hell?

Not to forget, here's wishing everyone a very bright and happy Diwali! :)

Stray thought - personal or professional?

2008-10-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

I have heard people talking several times about their personal and professional life. Initially when I was studying or when I had just started working, I found the concept pretty fascinating and I prided myself in telling people about how I demarcate between my personal and professional life. How I kept my personal life ‘separate’ from professional, as advised in all those bright books, and those intellectual career-and-life articles.

But as I am working for more and more time, or may be as I am living for more and more time, I increasingly believe that it is all not so true. I mean, I am one person. And everything related to me is a part of my that-same-one life. So if professional life means what I do for a living then it impacts me hugely. I get affected by the highs and lows at work and take it home many a time, I sleep over it many a time and I structure my ‘personal’ life many a time based on it. And if personal life means my boyfriend and my family, then they are an integral part of my life, my relation with them crawls into my relation with my work without any effort and impacts my performance during my ‘professional’ life.

Nothing earth-shattering really. Just a thought that struck me when I was traveling to work and I thought of penning it here. It anyway had been an eternity since I dropped by my beloved blog. Well, all seems well here at bloggoland. So I am personally and professionally satisfied.

Do you wanna go to phoren country?

2008-08-16T04:29:00.000-07:00

A dear friend of mine went through the U.S. student VISA process recently. And it took him somewhere around four months. Four months! Ok, three. I exaggerate a bit but isn't it equally infinite? Seriously, you people have to go through it to believe it. I mean I was not even the one involved but just by talking to him during that period of three months I realized how sinister it all was. Every fluctuation in his mood and nerve was linked to the nod and shake of the heads of holy men and women sitting behind the bullet-proof glasses of the hallowed consulates.

To start with, there are hordes of consultants sitting all over the by-lanes of each town and city. They promise to hand pick you from your mother’s nest and deliver you straight into the arms of the elitist balding American professors. Only thing is, they charge a bomb for doing this. Some where around fifty thousand rupees. Fifty thousand? That is like two return trips to Zurich from Delhi! And they make you sit in these tensed looking rooms and explain to you what you should eat, drink, wear, spray and gargle on the day of the interview. And you obviously nod as you digest each of their ominous words because you are nervous as hell. Then after lecturing you on the code of conduct and etiquette in their fake accents , they give you only fifteen hundred books to read till the d-day arrives. Right, you can do this. So you sit up while the entire world is having fun and read memoirs of people from Nagaland and Kota recounting their VISA interview glories.

As the day comes close, you start palpitating faster and reacting slower to all stimuli around you. When finally it is just around the corner, you go into your shell because you have been bamboozled by numerous career coaches, education consultants, books and Internet articles and you feel like a lost Nazi asked to feed rice to Sri Lankan green pigeon in punishment of your deeds (or something as weird). Then you travel two days before to the state where the consulate is located, pay exorbitant tariffs to hotels close by and circle around the building at night, like they pasted the questions to be asked the next day on the walls.

The day of the interview. You have to take around three hundred and forty nine documents and their seven hundred and twenty six photocopies to the consulate. You reach there three hours before and stand outside looking at the faces of people stepping out and sometimes even mob some of them like they were film stars, asking them questions and they field it like you were journalists from NDTV. When finally you start going through the security checks, you knew it is finally here. But only, it is not. Because the security process takes somewhere close to two hundred and fifty minutes. They make you drink so much water from the bottle you are carrying that you want to occupy the nearest loo for eternity. Then they ask for the papers you are carrying and scrutinize them with expressions that make you feel like you are going to die. You are suddenly asked to head to one of the bullet-proof glasses where some Americans seem to be sitting stone-faced. You shove your chest out, put on your best walk and plaster the sweetest smile on your face. As you reach them feeling somewhat confident, they ask you if you are unwell to walk with your butt jutting out in that odd way and your teeth showing as if your gums hurt. You mutter something embarrassedly.

“Stamped” they shout and you are jolted back to reality. You stand dumb for a second feeling they will bedeck you with the Miss Universe diamond studded crown very soon. Then they abruptly ask you to leave the room and let the next person come in. Of course, you stammer and stagger with a giggle like a girl. You come back elated and drunk with success. Some nervous hopefuls mob you this time and you feel particularly special. But in all the adulation from fans and media, you suddenly wonder where the education consultants, career coaches, internet articles, books, journals and counseling sessions helped. You stumble back home, wondering about the same thing all the way.

Meanwhile, you start getting calls for parties and treats by the time the news has traveled to the entire world and you make promises to one hundred and seventy three people. Only that when you take out your wallet upon reaching home to pay the auto-rickshaw guy, the lone hundred rupee note winks at you naughtily. Where is the rest of my…. Oh, now you get it. So this is where all that helped! Well it made your ‘load’ lighter. Sure.

Have you?

2008-07-13T01:05:00.000-07:00

Have you not chased a glow because the walkway was overcast?
Have you not followed a flow because the stream bubbled too fast?
Have you not taken a journey because vastness of the distance dampened your spirits?
Have you not stopped at a haven because you wanted the conquest to last?

Have you been seen your dreams melt away because you had no courage?
Have you mourned your desires as they died because you lacked conviction?
Have you let your love slip out of your weak clutches because you did not believe?
Have you lost a friend because you disagreed and never worked on the friction?

Have you not faced a friend because guilt ate away at your nerve?
Have you not embraced an enemy because past recollections blurred present verve?
Have you not lent a hand to a stranger because the minutes ticked away?
Have you not smiled with a child whose beauty you failed to observe?

This one is for you...

2008-06-27T22:41:00.000-07:00

Occasion: His birthday

Event: A fight

Location: Separate cities... me - office, he - home

Mood: Me - glum, he - mad at me and glum

Dialogue: Sullen

Trigger: Another phone call on his other phone, me told to hang on for a minute

Happening: Flower vendor's call to him for carnations from canary

Result: He back to phone - stunned and sheepish

Conversation: Aha! sweet.

Outcome: Exchange of apologies. Happy canary, happy him :) Happy Birthday to you once more... :)

What Hippocrates gave to the world

2008-05-28T00:13:00.000-07:00

Nothing beats a quick excursion from office in the middle of a rainy misty afternoon, for a nice sandwich at a smallish restaurant with glass walls, that I am just back from. Heavenly!

Now. Since you would be wondering what brought his highness, the father of medicine, Hippocrates, to my blog. Well, a search for something led me to the below on Wikipedia. And, since I am forgetful and easy to distract, I am convinced I suffer from ADHD. Doctor! Help! :D

For those who are intersted to read more:

DSM-IV criteria for ADHD (Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder)
I. Either A or B:
A. Six or more of the following symptoms of inattention have been present for at least 6 months to a point that iat brought his highs disruptive and inappropriate for developmental level:

Often does not give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes in schoolwork, work, or other activities.
Often has trouble keeping attention on tasks or play activities.
Often does not seem to listen when spoken to directly.
Often does not follow instructions and fails to finish schoolwork, chores, or duties in the workplace (not due to oppositional behavior or failure to understand instructions).
Often has trouble organizing activities.
Often avoids, dislikes, or doesn't want to do things that take a lot of mental effort for a long period of time (such as schoolwork or homework).
Often loses things needed for tasks and activities (e.g. toys, school assignments, pencils, books, or tools).
Is often easily distracted.
Often forgetful in daily activities.

B. Six or more of the following symptoms of hyperactivity-impulsivity have been present for at least 6 months to an extent that is disruptive and inappropriate for developmental level:

Hyperactivity:
Often fidgets with hands or feet or squirms in seat.
Often gets up from seat when remaining in seat is expected.
Often runs about or climbs when and where it is not appropriate (adolescents or adults may feel very restless). Often has trouble playing or enjoying leisure activities quietly.
Is often "on the go" or often acts as if "driven by a motor".
Often talks excessively.

Impulsiveness:
Often blurts out answers before questions have been finished.
Often has trouble waiting one's turn.
Often interrupts or intrudes on others (e.g. butts into conversations or games).

(For those who are still interested to read more, the source was Wikipedia)

Decoding a life lived for the society

2008-05-21T08:16:00.000-07:00

Society is a beautiful institution. It gives you a ready horde of people to associate with, attach with, connect with, bond with, liaison with, confirm with and comply with. It makes rules so that you know what to do when. It creates boundaries so that you remain safely within. It suggests decisional alternatives so that you do what is right. It delineates the wrong from the right so that you do not attempt what is not accepted.

But then there are always flipsides when you operate in an area where everything has already been etched out. The rules it creates become norms that you have to abide by even when you don’t want to. The boundaries it makes become barriers that do not let you unleash what truly lies within you on a lot of occasions. The alternatives it suggests become finalities it imposes on you, that make you feel like you can not expect to live like an intelligent individual. The wrongs it delineates become things which it considers taboo or non-virtuous and evil and you never even get a chance to get to know what they were to be so non-virtuous.

So, you do not take up photography because that is one thing you can at the most do in your free time, and definitely not as a full time career (eyebrows raised). You do not talk to certain people in the class because they are not considered ‘right’ by your relatives. You do not open your eyes to some religious beliefs because obviously your religion is the best, it is more than a way of life and it has possible become for you an absolute body of right and wrong, true and false, black and white. You also do not wear certain clothes, say certain words, read certain books, and do many other certain such things which would have certainly been on your wish-list had the ‘institution’ of society not taken it upon itself to decide what’s right or wrong for you.

And then you ‘do’ a lot of things which as a good member of the good society, you are expected to do. So you grow up as a ‘good’ son who respects his ‘good’ parents, runs their ‘good’ business when eighteen, marries a ‘good’ girl they like (who bows her head and behaves in a ‘good’ manner in front of the any form of ‘the institution’ that has personified itself to inspect her) and leads a good life that society proudly adds to its success story. A slightly more ‘good’ version could be if he goes to Amarika to get a ‘good’ degree which gets him a ‘good’ job and which makes his old parents prized jewels for the society back home. They use all possible opportunities to declare how ‘good’ the apple (of their eyes) has been and make occasional trips across the seven seas to show what a success their life is.

Or you grow up as a ‘good’ daughter, study to get ‘good’ grades, wait to be found eligible for marriage by the beatific society and nod your head for what it thinks is right for you. You could also go a ‘good’ school, get ‘good’ education, go to a ‘good’ college, get a ‘good’ degree again, with most remaining steps being more or less the same – going to a ‘good’ organization, working like a ‘good’ employee, and then going to the marriage circus, finding a ‘good’ spouse, rearing some ‘good’ children, sending them to ‘good’ schools and ‘good colleges’ for ‘good’ educations and degrees and dieing believing you’ve led an essentially ‘good’ life. Phew!

If you somewhere in between developed a desire to sing/dance/paint/draw/write/act/talk/ or any other form of physical distortion, then you need to get prepared to fight battles that might put the Spartans to shame. Why? Well, the society doesn’t think it fit. Or rather ‘good’. Isn’t that simple to understand? It asks you if your parents have a packet stashed up that they can back you up with. You say yes and it laps you up, shows you the way and lets you make some mistakes. If you come back after messing it all up, it smirks quietly and throws you back to your air-kissing, Prada sporting rich parents where you gradually fit into a grind.

But if your answer about the bomb of money was no, then you have had it. Not that it won’t present opportunities in front of you. Of course, it will. For one, it might show you scores of reality talent shows. So you can get insulted at the hands of frustrated middle-aged weirdos while you try to sing and dance without obviously knowing that you suck at it. But jokes apart, basically you go on trying to fend for yourself while battling for support from your parents (who are desperately looking at the society for approval), or your friends (who are as unguided/ tormented as you are), current established faces in your chosen loved field (and they turn out be an extremely rare find, the entire family was stuck by the society phobia anyway). And then you wait. You wait for something good to happen. For the luck to smile on you. For the tide to turn in your favor. For the society to add you in its success stories, success story achieved despite non-compliance. It doesn’t happen most of the times. It happens to probably .001% of you. The society conveniently avoids mentions of them. It mentions you while elaborating the importance of adhering and succeeding, of believing and getting rewarded.

So if you want to color your hair red, you become a hippie; if you want to travel all over the worls, you become a nomad; if you don't want to marry, you become an oddball; if you're a guy and you want to learn ballet or the piano, you become gay; if you want to fall in love at 50, you become eccentric; and so on and so forth. So after a life of rejections and disappointments, when you become parents, you tell your kids, “Society is an institution to be respected and followed.” And the kid nods his head. And lives for the society.

Differences and Similarities

2008-04-25T04:41:00.000-07:00

From hill tops to shades of hair
From hailstorms to matching shoes
From pine forests to slanting towers
Its revelations and surprises

From desiccated hide of the wild bore to the parched throat of the village belle
From the tears of the dejected child to the smile of the new bride
From searing heat of the concrete jungle to the holy chants of the aging priest
It is all the same no matter how well it disguises

You think there are different colors of the skin?
You imagine unlike festivals and celebrations?
You hear many voices and accents?
You read various hymns and psalms?
I wonder why this illusion arises

They pointed out the difference in skin tones; I saw the same creases under the eye
They highlighted the variation in the music; I sensed the same pain in the voice
They took out diverse clothes and fabrics; I found the same mélange of tradition
They showed me palaces and slums; I noticed everyone taking a foot of land to stand
And as you spot differences, I want to show you the similarity in all shapes and sizes
,

50th post!! Let me brag about my travels..

2008-04-08T07:36:00.000-07:00

I am back to my blog after a whirlwind, eventful and long break. Break in blogging, that is. I changed a job, changed a city, basically changed my life. Is it really that easy? I wonder. In any case, so far, so good.
But this post is not really about the change. It is a quick snapshot of what has been keeping me busy these three months and some months before that and I have chosen to talk about the travel out of it all. This is my blog, remember? Well, I managed to visit some stunning places off late, and came back with some incredible memories and impressions. The ink is green because most of the places I went to were, as well (that's no reason!)

The first place I need to talk about is Pondicherry. Though, I caught it at the wrong time of the year, with papa-sun shining on us with its full might, Pondicherry struck me as a little lost Hamlet holding on to its French connections beautifully. No wonder it is called the The French Riviera of the East (La Côte d'Azur de l'Est). Interestingly, the then ruling French Establishment presented the people of Puducherry with an option to either remain French or become Indians at the time of Puducherry's transfer to India in 1954. French still remains its official language, along with Tamil.
Some pictures of the beach-

The next place I visited was Hampi. A very surprisingly small place, which we covered almost entirely on foot in less than 4 hours, Hampi again welcomed us with scorching heat, but I saw immense touristy potential in this any-architect’s-delight. There are too many historical anecdotes associated with everything you see around and Hampi never ceases to surprise. Some flashes-

I visited Coorg for the nth time. It is one place I could never get bored of. The serene coffee plantations amidst sleepy green hills, magically entice me every time I set my eyes on them. You can just keep walking battling the moist shrubs and fresh vegetations endlessly, preferably during mornings and evenings, and keep falling in love all the time. A home-stay, once touted as exclusive and sought-after, is highly commercial now and booking for it means lavish room-service and housekeeping. Not for those looking for authentic Coorgi experiences, but definitely for those looking at being pampered and yet enjoying the lazy little heaven. My memories-

I was in Orissa on a more pilgrimage-oriented visit, but managed to squeeze in some things which stay with me despite several months having passed. Riding on a cycle-rickshaw with water levels reaching up to our knees and the driver continuously suggesting ways to battle it out in case we topple over and get submerged, bring a smile to my face. Stories of priests tearing off pieces of the God’s cloth and handing them over to the immensely God-fearing surprised me quite a lot. We saw a lot of money-mindedness wherever we went in the temple. Haven't been ale to find some pics of the trip to upload here, will do that in case you guys would want a decko.
Wayanad was another trip I remember, though all for the wrong reasons. The lesson I learn was “do your home-work well, for any trip, if you don’t want to mess it up”. We went on a stray whim and realized it wasn’t the kind of place we anticipated. No bookings and plans made sure that we came back disappointed, but doesn’t mean it is not a nice place. One of the most scenic down south, definitely…

Visited many other astounding places, and came back thoroughly enriched... I guess this post is already too long for me to go on further... So till next time...

Homecoming

2008-01-11T02:55:00.000-08:00

The station was bare like it always used to be. A septuagenarian stationmaster walked from this corner to the next, while a young moustache sporting hawaldar sat on the benches fanning himself with an old newspaper. The platform was a total of twenty yards long, with one government teashop in the middle and one phone booth at one corner. The other corner had food-dripping plastic plates and bowls scattered all over as a witness to the euphoria generated by the poori-chhole vendor who stopped there every morning on his way to the nearby temple which was his day-long stop. The old tin board with jagged corners said Teespur in a dull faded color of paint.

Soham descended from his train slowly. This was familiar territory. He had been watching it for the past nineteen years with an anxious breath each time. Anxious because he anticipated change every time which did not come, leaving him with further anxiety for his next visit.

He picked up his luggage and started walking towards the iron door of the railway station. There under the grand mango tree stood Lakshman, the sole auto-rickshaw owner of the village bearing the few remaining teeth in his mouth. Upon seeing Soham, he ran to take his luggage, but Soham insisted on carrying it himself this time. They sat down in the rickshaw and started their long and slow journey, to the other end of the village, and to the other end of time.

The journey to his grandparents’ house was a total of thirty-five minutes but it always felt like an era to Soham. The dirty children playing around the trees, the little weak men toiling in the fields, the ornamented women doing petty work here and there covered from head to tow. He always wondered how these women saw what they were doing with a big cloth covering more than half their face.

He knew it would come and it came like expected. A certain kind of heaviness started swelling up inside his heart before he had even spent fifteen minutes in Teespur. It happened with such an uninterrupted steadiness each time he stepped in the village, that Soham took it for granted. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the figures, the faces, everything about Teespur took him to another world. A world, which he was not familiar with, back in his cozy apartment, his swanky office and his luxurious car.

Back in his city complete with wide lanes, huge shopping malls, cinemas and restaurants, Soham did not know that life existed in this form also. Either he did not know or he chose to not remember was something that he still wasn’t sure about. But one thing he was sure about was that every year he came back to this remote piece of the world called Teespur and the reasons were completely unknown to him. He could have forced his grandparent to shift in with him in his apartment, or take another one close to his own. They were extremely well off and owned quite a fortune in Teespur and the adjoining villages. He very well knew that though they were hell bent on spending their entire lives in Teespur, they would have relented to Soham’s wishes. He was the only thing they cared about in the whole world after his parents died in a road accident five years back.

Lakshman parked his rickshaw in front of the Banyan tree and bared those two teeth in his mouth again. Soham knew they had reached the sprawling farmhouse of his grandparents. He looked around and smiled satisfactorily. All seemed well. Meanwhile Lakshman had very energetically taken his luggage to his room and called the couple outside. For an old man of sixty, he had still a lot of alacrity in his fragile body.

Tears were rolling endlessly from amma’s eyes when she hugged him. Dada patiently waited for his turn. When he was done, amma insisted on hugging Soham again. Lakshman stood there laughing.

In the evening a table was set out in the garden and all the delicacies of his grandmother were prepared and laid out for him. All four sat there eating, talking and laughing. Soham looked up at the sky. The clarity amazed him. He felt he could almost see the heaven above with bare eyes. He looked at everything around him. He knew he loved each and every inch of substance around him. The dizziness inside his head had started subsiding and he already felt a little better. He looked at the happy faces of the three elderly people around him. I can’t yet come. I will, one day. But not yet.

Happy New Year!

2007-12-28T04:54:00.000-08:00

Wishing all fellow bloggers and cherished readers a very Happy New Year! Have great times ahead and keep dropping by... :)

From an unknown lover...

2007-11-06T02:59:00.000-08:00

The packet came in time, like it always did. She opened it. The heart leapt up to her throat. Beads of sweat drenched her skin and made her neck softly moist. The inside was parched and thirsty. Afternoon wind blew into the layers of mildly grey hair and made whistling sounds in her ears. A cotton salwar stuck to sagging middle-aged breasts, hiding rapid anxious uneasy beats.

The letter in handmade paper came out smothered in Chelpark fountain ink. The round words written in a growingly shaky running hand. The margins defined neatly as if it were a portrait. The perfect words chosen with care and affection. The signature, long and relaxed, from someone who loved and ached, who longed and cried, who belonged and owned.

This time it was scarf. A silk and muslin mix with Lukhnowi weaving at the border, bright blue with mangoes printed in the centre like a traditional Indian mehandi design. She felt it for a long time. The smell was familiarly mystical. The touch was known, acquainted, close. She could feel her senses aroused in the same intimate way, her flesh rose up in goose-pimples and her deep within was jelly and spongy. All the monthly symptoms which surfaced after the packet positioned itself on her rosewood round coffee table, next to the huge Victorian English window, came back. The restless twitching of her long fingers, the brisk blinking of her hazel eyes, the numb emptiness inside her mind.

She placed the scarf fondly in the bottommost drawer of her study table. There was a host of things. She missed a beat. The plastic clip from a Hyderabad street, the artificial earrings from Delhi’s street market, the magenta nail paint of a local Jaipur brand, he had sent his love wrapped in gifts from everywhere. She smiled and ran her hands through the things. Then she secured the drawer and came back to the coffee table to unite with the letter.

Dear Deepa… the letter began. The simple words from a desolate, wretched loving husband seared her heart at an alarming speed and she experienced the same concoction of emotions which will now burn and fire her mind and soul for days. And then she will read the letter again like a hapless addict to get solace for some more days, by which time the next packet will arrive to rouse her, kindle her, soothe her.

She sat looking into blank space for infinite time and did not know when Ajay opened the door and entered the house. “Early morning presentation again, Geeta. Am taking the food up to my room and sleeping soon enough.” By the time she looked in the direction of the voice, he had already taken out the reheated boiled vegetables from the microwave, put it on a tray and started for the staircase. Geeta looked at him from behind, climbing up the stairs, tall, well built, attractive, even as old age was beginning to set in, then heard him get into ‘their’ bedroom and switch on the television. She picked up the pen and the airmail letter sheet.

Dear Harish,

Received your letter. Hope you doing good, recovered from the back pains you developed as indicated in your last letter. Work keeps me busy as usual. Yes, I have forgiven you for all your temper and ill behavior, but like I keep saying my commitments here might never allow me to return to India. London has adopted and owned me in a way. Don’t know if I can free myself from these fetters. But yes, I do want to see you once… once, before I close my eyes forever.…..

Love,
Deepa

Geeta looked at the untrue, yet true, words she had penned so effortlessly. Then she sealed the envelope and put it in her bag, to be posted on her shopping trip tomorrow. There were no traces of remorse or guilt. Then she served a portion of boiled vegetables for herself and sat in front of the television next to the Victorian window, playing old Hindi film songs.

This is God’s way of wiping my tears, of making up for my feelingless, loveless mechanized life, else an unrecognized letter wouldn't land unfailingly at my doorsteps from an unknown lover every month for ten years. This was his way of giving me what I deserve for leaving my life behind in my country, my loved ones, my securities, my sensibilities, for a man who fails to see the sensitive woman in me, human being in me, who is fake and wooden, who has never stirred an inch in me despite spending days together, nights together, who could not comfort me when I felt breathlessly nostalgic, wistful, about my roots, and wanted somebody to hold me and say he/she loves me and is there for me.

In a suburban town of India, a graying, small man called Harish, walks to the letter box, knowing well its some days too early, and returns disappointed. This was also God’s way of making up for the tears of a forty-eight year old man, getting weak and drained, holding on to a dying job, alone, isolated, abandoned.

Singin' in the Rain. Not always a glorious feelin'

2007-09-17T03:50:00.000-07:00

It’s been raining wild cats and wild dogs in Bangalore (note the repetition in the use of the word 'wild' for deeper emphasis). The weather is beautiful though the joyfully water logged roads have given many of us insomniac nights. All the same, there are delightful scenes all around. Vehicles have been instructed to append rafts to ‘swim’ into action in dire circumstances. It is fairly common to see auto-rickshaws half immersed in water and the driver emerging to gasp for breath every five minutes. The passengers generally have no clue where they are, because with water filling the roads up to the Toposphere, all of these roads anyway look the same. So they do not come out for oxygen so frequently. They instead practice Pranayama and go to sleep on the rear seats.

Apart from the exuberance shown by vehicles upon getting floatation devices attached, I have noticed a special glee on the faces of kids around my house. On interrogation, one of them attributed it to fascinating home assignments and remarkable project works. Something about the sardonic grin on his face compelled the aspiring detective inside me to decide to cross examine the matter further. A candid chat over filter kapi with the unsuspecting mother revealed that the physically well endowed kid, reporting nirvana in the absorbing home assignments and extraordinary project works; had actually not been going to school for an elongated week owing to discomfort caused to his skin by rain water. A sudden cry from the other room and the mother told me that he has been enriching himself with a variety of video games, because he thinks they are making him sharper and more intellectual. I looked at the pride on the mother’s face, remembered all the times I had conned my mother into believing that my stomach ache could give aliens fed on deep fried cabbage pakodas a complex, and bunked school; and decided to leave her with her innocent bliss and her monstrous child. My heart wouldn’t allow that so easily so I walked with her to the kid’s room and pinched his cheeks to a deep scarlet while he looked at me and his mother at dizzying speeds alternately, before busying himself in the video game requiring rapid shooting of funny looking pink ducks appearing out of blue colored bushes. “This will give him information about wild life, because it involves looking at various body parts of the ducks in detail,” she beamed and I decided to scoot before I killed the kid.

Meanwhile, the rains are still playing hopscotch with us. The vertically challenged amongst us (yeah, you can read ‘me’ here) are thinking of installing leg extensions for ease of hydro-pedo-gliding , and till then getting plastic jeans to save our hapless bottoms. It is not a happy feeling when you find yourself swallowed in muddy frothy liquid concoction every time you dress up in your best business formals and head to office with a delightful swing in your step. And it is also not a happy thought when your maid washes your clothes everyday and hangs it out to dry in the balcony just after you leave for work, with rains hammering on your ill fated umbrella. Yeah, she has been living in this city all her life. Yeah, she can see clouds relieving themselves upon us. Yeah, she knows rain water (or any kind of water for that matter) can wet the clothes. Yeah, she also seems to be sensible enough to realize that clothes can be dried inside the house under the fan. Yeah, she sees that by now almost everything in my wardrobe is hanging out there on the pretext of drying. And yeah, she tries to express interest when I explain to her why watery weather necessitates clothes not be put outside. Yet she insists on doing it everyday. All I can say is that she is weird in a rather inexplicable way.

Needless to say, all the garments I have ever possessed are out there on an exhibition, twice as wet of what the washing made of them; and the day is drawing close when I will have to borrow her clothes to wear.

Not so interesting.

2007-07-20T05:36:00.000-07:00

This is beyond my comprehension. I have seriously been missing you a lot. From the comfortable bonhomie we shared, suddenly our relationship seems to be strained, formal, lacking conversation and that old spark. How come I have lesser and lesser things to tell you, suddenly? Please, answer! Say something, my dear blog?!

Okay, some passing thoughts again. From assuming that all people think alike, I have sure come some way. Hearing about people who spent their entire lives trying to transport a letter written by their father to his best friend, or people waiting for an eternity to visit one particular place or people fighting a particular cause forever because of an incident; I thought all this existed only in books or maybe in bare minimum cases, in newspapers.

Growing amidst a moneyed ersatz society, studying with belligerent go-getters, and now living amidst Xerox copied corporate androids; I assumed that this is a regular human being operates. I am pleased to say it’s not quite like this. And these people are not necessarily eccentric and oddball arties. They are people around here whose takes on lives are radical, yet so interesting to lend your ears to.

p.s. Have been reading “The monk who sold his Ferrari”, quite a piece of junk, if you ask me. Misuse of the Indian brand to sell some boring philosophy. Seems to be the ‘in’ thing to do.

Interesting!

2007-05-10T02:55:00.000-07:00

The whole sexist issue revisited...

http://www.google.co.in/search?hl=en&q=she+invented&meta=

When you have nothing to write about...

2007-04-04T03:48:00.000-07:00

There has been nothing that has been strongly affecting me or motivating me enough to update the blog. Plus I have never really been the sort who details out her daily itinerary for everyone’s consumption on the blog. So both put together I was almost left speechless. But with the start of the New Year (the financial year, which is actually the New Year for me, given the nature of my work), I felt my blog looked too ignored and I thought of writing about two things that had amused me recently.

I read Shobha De’s Sultry days sometime back. The only reason I had picked up the book was that this was the only one by the author at the store and there had been enough intrigue generated inside me by her for a while now. Invariably I see her on TV while channel surfing, read about her looking too ravishing for her age at some socialite’s party or something to that tune. So when I thought I had had enough, I decided to read some work of hers and decide for myself whether she is worth all the hoopla.

Well she clearly isn’t. To say the least, the book was a major disappointment. I felt as if I was reading the story of a Mithun Chakraborty movie made in late 1980s when budgets were so low that the only hype can be created comes from weird twists, unbelievable characters and crass dialogues. I also did not appreciate the open use of so many vernacular abuses in the book because it looked unnecessary and out of place. Yes but this doesn’t mean that I didn’t like her or her book totally. This aspect of Mumbai social life as mentioned in the book was something I never knew existed and was glad to become informed now. The author also stirred me at some occasions in the book with her imagination but I really don’t intend to buy more of her creations at least in the near future. Period.

The other thing is something which has actually been a nuisance for a year now. It so happens that I sit in office next to a girl who is much chased by other employees for various errands. Lets say her name is Anu. So everyday from the moment I enter office and plunk myself on my seat, ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls (does that sound familiar?) all descend upon me and begin asking with a planned chronology of every five minutes if I am Anu. Initially I displayed all my courtesy and politeness and pointed to the girl seated in the next corner, “that’s her,” with a big smile. After four to five months had passed and I had become a victim of office boredom coupled with the realization that the mob of employees would never cease, I invented a strategy.

I took huge print-outs with her name on them and painted it all over her desk. Of course it did not help because people would still insist on waking me up from my reverie every time. So I took some more huge print-outs, this time with her name and huge arrow marks pointing to her seat. You really think this helped? Of course not again because it seems people miss seeing the arrow, just concentrating on the name instead! Some psychological issue. Though there have been three girls in the same role till now, but the problem just stays. Now the last girl has also quit and a guy has been recruited in her place and I am hoping people won’t confuse me for him.

P.S. Heard a guy screaming at one of the admin guys around in office, in the morning. Felt appalled, revolted and dismayed. All these big people who think they have the right to shout at peons or office admin staff just because they themselves earn more money or have more power, aren’t they complete cowards and losers?

While I was surfing...

2007-03-04T22:56:00.000-08:00

There have been 3,423 coalition deaths -- 3,166 Americans, two Australians, 133 Britons, 13 Bulgarians, six Danes, two Dutch, two Estonians, one Fijian, one Hungarian, 32 Italians, one Kazakh, three Latvian, 19 Poles, two Romanians, five Salvadoran, four Slovaks, 11 Spaniards, two Thai and 18 Ukrainians -- in the war in Iraq as of March 2, 2007, according to a CNN count.

And now a third world war seems to be a fashionable thing to talk about now. Those studying the Prophecies of Nostradamus say that he has indicated the possibility of a Third World War. Indeed, in some of his quatrains he mentions terrifying battles and events occurring in and around Europe, Asia and Africa which do not seem to have happened till date. There is, however, a difference of opinion among the experts about the overall sequence of these events and most of all, their timing.

Was surfing for some information and found some extremely interesting articles on wars, including one on 10 theories why wars happen. Below are three important wars in the history of our world. You can wiki for more if intrigued...

The Peloponnesian War (431–404 BC) was an ancient greek military conflict, fought between Athens and their empire and the peloponnesian league, led by Sparta. Historians have traditionally divided the war into three phases. In the first, the Archidamian War, Sparta launched repeated invasions of Attica, while Athens took advantage of its naval supremacy to raid the coast of the Peloponnese, while attempting to suppress signs of unrest in its empire. This period of the war was concluded in421 BC, with the signing of the Peace of Nicias. That treaty, however, was soon undermined by renewed fighting in the Peloponnese.

The French Wars of Religion were a series of conflicts fought between catholics and Huguenots (Protestants) from the middle of the 16th century to the Edict of Nantes in 1598, including civil infighting as well as military operations. In addition to the religious elements, they involved a struggle of influence over the ruling of the country.

The Opium Wars or the Anglo-Chinese Wars were two wars fought in the mid 1800s that were the climax of a long dispute between China and Britain. In the second, France fought alongside Britain. This dispute centered around the growing amount of Opium being imported into China from British India.

(Source: Wikipedia)

When nature came calling...

2007-02-07T21:09:00.000-08:00

After many days of wondering, I discovered it myself. Yes, I now know why Kerala is called God’s own country! With its magnificent greens, mesmerizing waters and awe-inspiring mountains; it has the capacity to make any place look dwarfish and ignorable.

We were three girls who sprouted guts (maybe caused by sheer monotony of atrocious and tedious work), packed our bags and set off to almost a week long journey into beautiful Kerala, making laughable excuses for leaves from office. We covered Vagamon (breathtaking plantations), Thekkady (a round of truth or dare at 3 at night), Alleppey (magical backwaters) and Cochin (loveable city life); and by the end of it were totally intoxicated by what we had witnessed.

I am not going to give a long winding account of what happened/ what all we covered/saw/traveled. But I have to share some lovely memories, maybe just as an ode to God's own country…

We started with Vagamon where we stayed in a home-stay on a plantation. It was a one-of-a-kind experience with streams running around us and worms being cultured for their manure! But we all felt the place was grossly over-priced, hence suited majorly to the firangis.

climbing up a hillock in the grassland area at Vagamon...

the wild abandon of the plantations...

latex collection at the rubber plantation

The next stop was Thekkady, which had been included after having heard enough about it being a honeymoon spot and having a picturesque wildlife sanctuary. Not that we saw any of this, but still ended up having a rollicking time thanks to a sumptuous dinner followed by a thrilling round of truth or dare till almost 3 at night after that. This was accentuated by a surprise midnight encounter with a dog who was tied in the room next to ours! Too much fun! :)

an approaching boat during our Periyar cruise in the sanctuary...

continental treat at a 'bed and breakfast' place at Thekkady...

Alleppey was our next destination. I can safely say it is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen or I will ever see. Plush green trees rising from all sides and deep blue water playing host to us with all its warmth and serenity. We were almost praying and wishing that if there is heaven, it be like this! Our lavish buffet lunch at an extravagant and grandly lake resort in the middle of the waters was another effect to remember and all three of us made silent plans of coming back again! We picked some awesome coir products on the way from Alleppey to Cochin, that are easily ten times more expensive in towns.

the heavenly boat cruise...

our carrier on the backwaters...

this is life for many amongst us.. they wash,bathe in, drink the same water..

Cochin rounded up our trip with jew town and a visit to the only pub in the city. We came back with feet that were so heavy we couldn’t believe they were ours. Gosh! Office felt so torturous after that for days!

These middle-aged Indian men...

2007-01-11T19:48:00.001-08:00

It seems that off late most of my blog entries are emerging from my flight experiences. On deeper thought I feel the reason is that this is the only time when I sit in one place for so long and am almost forced to observe and think as a result. Otherwise I have comfortably slipped into the habit of being almost always on the move, given what a hopelessly restless spirit I am.

Okay, so this happened on the last weekend when I had two longish air journeys to endure. The first one was theatrical because of the way I reached reeeaaallly late, was denied check-in and then miraculously allowed to board. But it was the second one that caught me by surprise. What happened was that I had this big bag to carry and I was struggling with it everywhere. When I could not keep it in the overhead bin after repeated trials, an uncle standing close-by offered to help, and I was only too grateful.

That over and done, I was assured that someone similarly generous would come to my rescue after landing as well. Once our flight landed, I stood up and looked for that uncle but failed to recognize him among the mass. In that process I saw two other men staring at the attempts of a woman in the next row as she tried to take down her laptop. Some passengers seemed to have kept their own laptops on hers and the poor woman struggled to offload them and take hers from the heap. When she finally succeeded in doing so after a good five minutes, the men looked at each other, grinned and exchanged sarcastic expressions.

My bag was kept far away from where I stood and I failed to reach it even after stretching far enough. Next to me stood a girl and next to her was another man/uncle who happened to actually stand right under my bag. I looked at him and I don't know why but I asked him if he could bring it down for me.

He had an outright 'no' on his face and still he looked at the bag and said, "This one? No, I surely can't." I was quite numb because I never knew people could say no for a simple help. From the corner of my eyes, I saw those two same men looking at me now. I told him to move so that I could take it standing where he was now. He willingly obliged. I started the arduous task but soon realized that the bag was badly stuck somewhere. This polite man volunteered, "Why don't you wait for the doors to open and crowd to start moving?" Already knowing that I was failing at it, I agreed and infact sat down.

When the door opened, I started my struggle yet again only to stop the crowd behind me as the bag was too big and too stuck somewhere for me to take it. Meanwhile three or four men stood behind me with irritated expressions. From the middle of the crowd, then, I saw a tall man darting out, and pulling out my luggage with quiet ease and putting it on the floor for me to pull. I saw it was a handsome 'firangi' (as I like to call them), dressed to kill, the sorts we girls ogle at. I managed a meek thanks as the crowd got moving again.

It is really surprising and disgusting in some ways when you think about the mentality of so many Indian men. It seems that they want to avenge the rise of women. And it seems to be mostly among the middle-aged ones. They seem to be extremely self-conscious when faced with situations where they are with women other than their wives, and they do not know how to behave, leave aside showing chivalry. They do not know if they are supposed to help/be kind/show superiority/be scornful/look down upon/act jealous/be sensitive etc. This was especially evident because the foreign guy seemed completely at ease with the expectations out of him when a girl needed a little physical help, even though a lot of us associate them with being callous men who have no respect for the fairer sex. On many similar occasions I have noticed just the opposite.

By the way, while I was struggling with my gigantic bag, holding back a mob, I saw the two staring men pick up the laptops. So it was they who had placed theirs comfortably on that lady's one.

Warm Greetings for all of you :)

2006-12-29T04:22:00.000-08:00

This is for all the amazing people I have had the chance of interacting with, through my blog... :)

Happy New Year!

Be good and have a blast!

Oops I did it again!

2006-12-20T05:19:00.000-08:00

Location: A supposedly swanky beauty parlour
Situation: Me after repeated calls fail to get a reservation. So I decide to walk in and pretend I have a reservation.

I open the door confidently on a Friday, late afternoon time slot.
Ugly looking and snooty parlour lady: Yes, can I help you?
Me (hesitating): I need a hair cut.
Her: Do u have a booking?
Me (boldly): Yeah.
Her (with a weird look on her face that I can not decipher): When did you call?
Me (after thinking a lot but pretending otherwise): In the morning.
her: What time was that?
Me (again rigorous thinking): Around 11 or 11.30 (I know that’s a safe time and I had spoken with her the same time day before yesterday)
Her (with some horrendous satirical expression): We were closed that time. Today I opened the parlour at 3 PM.
Many faces turn around and look at me. I resist turning around to look at them.
Me (stumped and hugely embarrassed but determined not to show it): Oh, is it? But I did call at that time and spoke with someone.
Her (with the 'I have won' expression): Just not possible.
Me (forcing a smile): Okay, but err and err… so… can I get a hair-cut?
Her: Sure.
I start walking towards the sofa with a clumsy smile.
Her: Not today. We are too busy.
Me (almost pleading): Its urgent. I have to attend a wedding. I can wait for you to finish other assignments.
Her (with an irritatingly disgusting expression): No, not today. You can come tomorrow or on Tuesday.
Me (struggling for words): But… it… it will be too late… I needed it for this weekend?
Ugly looking and snooty parlour lady says nothing.
I say nothing.
The many faces keep looking at me. I turn around and walk to the door and leave.

Marital violence - One of the most disgusting phenomena

2006-11-20T03:53:00.000-08:00

Saw a woman being slapped by her husband on the road last week. Was completely shaken to know that there still are families where this happens. Then saw some men stop by the couple and beat up the man shouting something in Kannada, so I assumed they were roughing him up for daring to thrash a lady. The unfortunate woman meanwhile desperately tried to save her husbad from the men. Later I saw the man standing in a bus holding a hankerchief close to her cheek where one of the men had hit him. The poor woman stood next to him looking completely fear-struck and timorous, probably thnking of what he would do to her when they got home. Can't forget that scene for a long long time. Sometimes I wonder if that woman is badly bruised lying on a hospital bed right now.

This is one of those topics that arouse instant angst in me. Neglect of the elderly and child labour being the other major ones. I am seriously thinking of some initiative that will go beyond the regular social work and actually do something faster about these issues. Not that I am blaming or criticizing the social workers. They are one helluva amazing people and I truly admire their capacity to think beyond selfish purposes. But around me I see many many concerned people of my age who are concerned and willing to spend some time, money and effort but they dont know how to do it. So I am thinking... Any suggestions?

SOS calls from an innocent victim

2006-10-23T00:56:00.000-07:00

OK. It has been proved. So it is true afterall. In a weirdly strange phenomenon, I am being targeted by all airlines unitedly these days. As far as my respectably sublime memory goes, I have never dirtied/deshaped/hacked/incised seats by dropping food/water/puking/sneezing/using sharp tools/wheezing/rasping. Added to this the supremely staid and solemn ways in which I carry out my air journeys (courtesy the context in which most are made-to/from my home-town to/from my work-town), ensure that I spend my time quietly reading/looking outside/trying to get but not getting any sleep/managing some sleep. But despite display of abundant chivalry/politeness/kindness on my part, they seem hell bent on making my life laughable and lamentable/deplorable all at the same time. They have all ganged up against me, plotted and planned to the last detail, and decided to unleash all their wrath against me in cynically ruthless ways.

Now that you have been quite moved by my ravings and ranting, I owe you guys some explanations. So this goes back some time when I was traveling alone for the first time by air. I had a window seat but was hardly interested in gazing out given the ungodly hour (6 AM), I had just taken the seat to avoid any aisle related disturbances. But as luck would have it, the seat next to me was occupied by a small kid in a particularly ungrateful mood. Her mother sat next to her in the aisle seat having another jumpy/restless/unruly/wriggley kid on her laps. In a matter of ten minutes both the kiddos were in the seat next to me looking at my window sideways. Almost fifteen minutes later they were both on my laps hanging on to my window. I could take it for exactly five minutes and then bracing my best smile, I offered to exchange my seat with them. Their mother was only too pleased.

Sitting in corner seat, I shut my eyes looking for a little bit of sleep. And then hell descended upon me as the extended family of the benign lady decided to drop in to pay regards to her bringing along with them their even tinier/dirtier/noisier children. Apparently the lady was traveling with her huge family who had come from some part of south India now off on a vacation to the extreme north. Being a relatively recently married lot, all of them had minute offspring continuously squealing and bantering.

I had obviously had enough. I mentioned this to her with extreme caution. She offered to place me next to her elderly (and seemingly peaceful) in-laws seated in the next row. This appeared to be a good prospect and I happily agreed. But fate most obviously had other plans as the little devils decided to now plonk themselves on their granny's laps for a change. When I opened my eyes after one short stretch of sedation, I saw one naughty bachha gulping water from my water bottle. It looked at me after most of its saliva had dissolved in my drink, and then looked at his grandmother who happily wiped the mouth of the bottle and gave it to me obliging me to the core. "Let the child have it," I smiled. I was clearly my politest best that day. The entire trip I spent sulking and cribbing inside, waiting to shriek my lungs out.

Another recent incident was when this time I was coming home for Diwali. Given the shooting prices of air tickets, courtesy the festive season, I bought myself a seat on one of the cheapest airlines, which I clearly respect for their services despite their low fares, even though people associate them with cancelled flights and ugly air-hostesses. So what happened was that I arrived late and got inside the plane among the last batch of passengers. Some how I managed to secure an aisle seat but I failed to realize that it was next to the mid-way emergency exit of the airplane. The seats refused to recline and I found myself sitting upright subjected to extreme discomfort and irritation. The girl sitting next to me quickly found another seat and changed her place.

I consoled myself now by stretching my feet on the seats which obviously nobody else could do. But it stopped amusing me in sometime and I too had to request the stewardess for al alternate seat. She pointed two seats to me and I found it hard to hide my relief. I smartly left the first empty seat on the way, thinking of catching the seat closer to the main exit, and hopped onto it with an air of elegance.

You are very much right that things will obviously not go right if it is me and aircraft travel. So the passenger next to me turned out to be a high-flying executive on his nth trip aboard an early morning flight, and he insisted on cribbing about it to his thick burly friend sitting in the next row. He strained his voice talking to him all way as they chatted about wives, children, bosses, work, loans, weather and every other useless topic under the soon appearing sun. All my efforts at gaining sleep were squished and squashed there and then. I drove home with a dejected heart and noted this in my long list of distressing journeys.

If only somebody was listening!

Happy Diwali.. :)

2006-10-19T06:27:00.000-07:00

Here are seasons greetings for all you people.. Have a wonderful yet safe Diwali.. :)

Best wishes.. :)

Do I really need to communicate?

2006-10-05T07:50:00.000-07:00

Since the time I have landed in Bangalore, I have been haunted by a strange faceless apparition. It constantly tells me that I am an alien, and can truly never belong here. Whenever I tell him about this being my country, my home-land, my India; or whenever I try to go a step further and talk of the global world, the shrinking boundaries; it scoffs at me with all its canines and molars full in display. When I refuse to buy its stand and ask for proof, it quietly holds my hand and takes me to the homes of one of the few great friends, I have found after coming to Bangalore. So I ride along bracing myself to prove it incorrect and illogical.

On a similar one excursion, I visited a dear friend for lunch on a fine Bangalore afternoon. With a little kid running around squealing incomprehensible monosyllables, I expected the day to be a juxtaposition of a lot of amusement and game. It sadly turned out to be just the opposite. The Tamil Friend's wife did not speak English or Hindi, the only two languages I am remotely intimate with; and the husband had to use Tamil to converse with her almost all the while. The other friend accompanying me knew the language well enough to write a novel, and she gelled in like Irish cream on piping hot mocha.

The entire day I sat there, looking at the faces/lips/hand movements of the people trying to make some head or tail of the conversations. In between they took pity on my once in a while and translated some bits of the talking; and I laughed stupidly pretending to enjoy. It was repeated another time when I paid a visit to another friend; and I was alarmed at how helpless and defenseless I felt when a congregation of people around me emoted in a tongue so alien. Back in Delhi, the thing I almost always never thought about, now seemed as the most crucial thing in the world.

Since i found myself so engrossed at engulfed in this post, I thought of making it more worthwhile by putting in some useful information and interesting trivia. Now, let me first elaborate on human speech and language. Human speech is commonly recognized as the dividing line between ourselves and the rest of the animal world. The reason why the ability to speak is such a sharply defined boundary goes deeper than the mere existence of a method of communication, it is what we have done with language that counts. Language paved the way for all the special human abilities that we so value- self-awareness, higher emotion and personal memories (McCrone 48).

Communication, on the other hand, is far more than speech and writing. Most of us are unaware that we are communicating in many different ways even when we are not speaking. The same goes for other social animal species. We rarely learn about this mostly non-verbal human communication in school even though it is very important for effective interaction with others. Growing up in a society, we learn how to use gestures, glances, slight changes in tone of voice, and other auxiliary communication devices to alter or emphasize what we say and do. We learn these highly culture bound techniques over years largely by observing others and imitating them.

Linguists refer to all of these auxiliary communication devices as paralanguage. It is part of the redundancy in communication that helps prevent ineffective communication. It can prevent the wrong message from inadvertently being passed on, as often is the case in a telephone call and even more so in a letter. The paralanguage messages that can be observed through face to face contact also makes it more difficult to lie or to hide emotions. Paralanguage is often more important in communication than what is actually being said orally. It has been suggested that as much as 70% of what we communicate when talking directly with others is through paralanguage.

The most obvious form of paralanguage is body language or kinesics. This is the language of gestures, expressions, and postures. In North America, for instance, people commonly use their arms and hands to say good-bye, point, count, express excitement, beckon, warn away, threaten, etc. In fact, they learn many subtle variations of each of these gestures and use them situationally.

When we speak to another individual or group, the distance our bodies are physically apart also communicates a message. Proxemics is the study of such interaction distances and other culturally defined uses of space. Most of us are unaware of the importance of space in communication until we are confronted with someone who uses it differently. For instance, we all have a sense of what is a comfortable interaction distance to a person with whom we are speaking. If that person gets closer than the distance at which we are comfortable, we usually automatically back up to reestablish our comfort zone. Similarly, if we feel that we are too far away from the person we are talking to, we are likely to close the distance between us. If two speakers have different comfortable interaction distances, a ballet of shifting positions usually occurs until one of the individuals is backed into a corner and feels threatened by what may be perceived as hostile or sexual overtures. As a result, the verbal message may not be listened to or understood as it was intended.

Now here's some interesting trivia. A US business team was in recent negotiations with a Japanese group in Tokyo. Things seemed to be going well. Then there was a pause, the Japanese apologized, and began speaking to each other in Japanese. The US businessmen suddenly felt isolated and frustrated, whereas moments before they had been an integral part of the action. The advantage was with the Japanese because they had two languages and the Americans but one.

In another significant instance, the Japanese word, mokusatsu, changed all our lives. It has two meanings: (1) to ignore, (2) to refrain from comment. The release of a press statement using the second meaning, in july, 1945 might have ended the war (World War 11) then. The Emperor was ready to end it, and had the power to do so. The cabinet was ready to accede to the Potsdam ultimatum of the Allies-surrender or be crushed-but wanted a little more time to discuss the terms. A press release was prepared announcing the policy of mokusatsu, with the no comment interpretation. But it got on the foreign wires with the ignores interpretation through a mix-up in translation: The cabinet ignores the demand to surrender. To recall the release would have entailed an unthinkable loss of face. Had the intended meaning been publicized, the cabinet might have backed up the Emperor's decision to surrender. In which event, there might have been no atomic bombs over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Tens and thousands of Japanese might have been saved. One word, misinterpreted.

Wow!

The magic man..

2006-09-19T06:40:00.000-07:00

He opened his school bag and felt the inside pocket. Through the lining the rustling sound of the crisp notes made him want to take it out and count it one more time.

Just then a dog ran towards him wagging its tail. He wondered if he should feed it a biscuit from his snack box. But he had a long wait ahead. So he merely patted its head.

Mummy said he always came to the Jogger's Park for a walk. It was a routine of many years. A walk and then a morning coffee at the nearby Barista.

He raised his water bottle to his mouth and drank deeply. What if this was the one day he decided to stay at home? He wondered..

He looked around to make sure nobody familiar was around. The elderly lady round the corner of their lane, Mrs. Mehta, liked to ramble around such parks in the morning, with false hopes of shedding some of her plenteous kilos amassed affectionately over the years.

Chikku could still see no signs of the man. Mummy and papa had been talking last night about him in tight whispers, but he had managed to catch snippets of the conversation while pretending to be playing with the archaic rail set.

When Chikku sat on his bed last night, the only phrases that circled through his mind were “he can do magic” and “he knows all the tricks”. These were the phrases mummy had continuously repeated while talking to papa. That was when she had also mentioned the walk in Jogger's Park and the coffee at Barista.

Now as he sat on the bench, Chikku painted a mental picture of the ‘magic man’, as he had started calling him since last night. From the little explanation that mummy had provided to papa, the man was thin, bearded and spectacled. Chikku took another deep gulp of water. Almost all the men in the park were spectacled. Almost half of them were thin. Many were bearded. Chikku noticed many new styles of beards in this process. He even picked up one fancy style that he decided to adopt once he got facial hair, like the other grown up boys of his school.

The magic man must have definitely decided to stay at home today. Chikku could see all his plans melting away. He had carefully decided that he would leave his home for school in the morning, but instead walk to the Park. Once he found the magic man, he would trail him to see if the man followed his walk with a coffee. Then he would promptly pull out the hundred rupees he had saved over the last one month and ask the magic man to help him.

Chikku checked the inside pocket once more for the notes and felt reassured at their touch “But where is the magic man? Why hasn’t he turned up till now? What will I do all day if he doesn’t show up at all? Maybe I will go to Appu’s house. Appu would be at school, so I would have to tell his parents that I have come to check out his toys as I need to buy similar ones for my next birthday...”

The train of thoughts was broken when an exact replica of Chikku’s mental picture walked right in front of him. “This has to be the magic man!” Chikku leapt up from the bench. He surreptitiously started following the man hiding furtively behind bushes and shrubs now and then. He took out a biscuit from his snack box and slid it into his mouth secretly.

He could not believe his luck when the man turned towards Barista after his brief walk, and ordered coffee.

Chikku slowly walked and stood next to the man.

“Hi, my name is Chikku. I know that you are a magic man and you know all the tricks...”

The magic man seemed much amused.

“Next Monday I have a Mathematics test… I have been preparing very well for it for the past one week…” He tried to look as convincing as he could.

“But I want your help in getting full marks in the test.”

The expression on the man’s face became very peculiar.

“Okay, not full marks. Even ninety or eighty percent would do.”

A guffaw from the magic man ensued. It was followed by a cursory halt for a mouthful of air and then another chortle followed. “Little boy, I know all the tricks. But sadly these are not from Mathematics but from business consulting,” the magic man gave a fatherly tap on Chikku’s head. It spoilt Chikku’s hairstyle and Chikku promptly tidied them with his fingers.

Chikku had a miserable face. “But my mother said you knew magic.”

“What is your mother’s name? Let me see if I know why she said that.”

“Mrs. Shubha Nayar,” Chikku hesitated.

“Mrs. Nayar, Mrs. Nayar, yes, of course! I had met her at the supermarket yesterday. She approached me as she had seen my face in a magazine. Then we happened to talk about my consulting practice and I suggested I could help your father in his business.”

“Don’t worry Chikku… that is your name, right? Mathematics can be fun. You just need to practice enough.” the magic man smiled.

“Yes, exactly,” Chikku stood up.

“Wait, won’t you have a cup of coffee or a chocolate cake? I will drop you home if you want?”

The magic man was oblivious to Chikku’s quandary. There was no way he could think of coffee or cakes at this time. “No! thanks,” he gripped his bag and water bottle and darted to the door.

Chikku stepped outside Barista with a heavy heart. The Bombay air suddenly seemed freezing. He walked slowly for a few seconds. Then he gradually accelerated his speed and took a particular turn. The turn that led to Appu’s house.

Mindless and aimless

2006-08-16T23:52:00.000-07:00

Okay okay, I know I have a lot of explaining to do according to most of you. This has to start with an annoyingly irregular posting pattern, followed by an unexpected sudden absence from my blog and topped up by an even more unexpected disappearance from the face of this Earth. The title (if you're thinking) of this post has been given as such because thats what this post is about. No objective, just some thoughts popping in my head, being thrown here!

Actually there have been reasons behind my lack of activity. But none of them has been so significant to hold me from writing. So I really don't know what to say. It started with a lot of tension because of impending placements in college, it got aggrevated with some stupid personal problems and then it finally exploded with my shifting to Bangalore for work ! Yes, currently I'm in Bangz and after two or three months of rigorously missing home and fighting emotions (!), I have finally sort of settled in. I am liking the financial independence offered by my job, and the general independence of doing anything in life without anyone stopping me, with the pleasant weather backing me.

The job is nothing too good. I am already thinking of early retirement and have joined many "Hari Sadu" groups on varius websites. But jokes apart, I have this nagging feeling that coming to work everyday has to be supported by a strong like for your work. The general tendency these days to mingle with the crowd and do what's 'in', is a bad idea, afterall. Not that I fall in that category, but yes many of my decisions have been initiated by peer pressure or groupthink. I'm gonna make sure my kids dont fall in that trap.

Okay, I've gone off the point. I was narrating ghory details of what kept me away from my very beloved blog. Well, so like I said placement blues started the alienation and eventual placement heightened it. But that's no excuse afterall. So what actually kept me away. The real reason if you ask me was that there were a lot of changes happening inside my head. I was thinking about a lot of new things. And I was thinking in a lot of new ways. I was realizing my priorities in life. And I was realizing the importance of those priorities.

I realized that nothing beats a 4-day break in the magical Goa. I realized that mom's food beats all fancy delicacies hollow. I realized that when you are sitting alone in your fancy apartment in a reputed IT town, nothing matches a sudden call from an old friend. And I realized all the ambition in the world after graduating from a top-rated MBA school, falls flat on his face when five months down the line you earn big money but have no time to spend it. I think I have some fundas clear in life now. Good start maybe.

Anyways, this is all I had to say for now. I am done with saying serious things and back to my tradmark chatter. My next post i going to be this creative writing piece (hopefully!), I came up with some time back. Meanwhile, you people must now tell me what you have been upto all these days.. :)

Born on the 4th of July..

2006-07-04T01:06:00.000-07:00

The United States celebrates its Independence Day on July 4 as the adoption of Declaration of Independence July 4, 1774. It is a day of patriotic celebration and family events throughout the country. In the words of Founding Father John Adams, the holiday would be “the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, … . It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.

p.s. : I am finally back after some gruelling months of travel. This is quite likely to happen after you get crowned Miss Universe, so I had the usual rounds of the world, you know doing humanitarian works and all..
Ok, seriously get ready for some power packed posts from me, I have loads and loads to tell.. See you guys around.. :)

In the name of Humanity

2006-01-19T04:45:00.000-08:00

She had steeped into the room for the first time, and yet there was a feeling that she had been there forever. A tear slipped down her cheek. She opened the door fully, and there he was. He lay on the bed with his eyes closed. He was serene and calm. She smiled. His little fingers were clutching something. She slowly opened them. It was the cashew she had given him before he left for school. That was it. She did not know what happened after that. She was told the next day when she opened her eyes, that he had been cremated at night. And that he was happy up there with his guardian angel. She did not say anything. She closed her eyed again.

There was a lot of commotion in the house as was usual every morning. He was leaving for school. He hadn't washed his face or brushed his teeth. She screamed at him. He made a sorry face and she melted and hugged him. He finished the glass of milk. She gave him the cashew nuts. He refused at first and then tightly clutched them before running off to school.

It had just been 2 hours when the phone rang. He was about to get in the school bus when a car jolted to a halt nearby. 2 armed men pulled the little boy into the car. The school bus sped away as he shouted for help. As they were trying to drive away, he resisted further. And that was when it happened.

They push him out of the car. He falls in front of a big vehicle (the police has no clue about it too, just like the armed men or their vehicle). His stomach is crushed. An unknown man calls her up after checking the i-card of the boy. She rushes him to the hospital after he had spent an hour there bleeding. The last breath escapes his body at the hospital bed. She looks at his face and quietly leaves the room.

p.s. The instances of abductions have hit an all-time high in Patna. Little children are being picked up from homes, streets, schools, parks and we are watching helplessly. Mothers are shedding tears and we are shrugging our shoulders. Can you and me do something about it?

Girls and Money

2006-01-09T00:43:00.000-08:00

I was just wondering the other day about some of my girlfriends and sort of noticed a very interesting trend.

There are 3 types of girls, it seems. they are:

Ones who do not spend money (the rare ones, who make dads and their husbands really happy.)
Who spend too much money (the universally talked about variety, on whom i needn't elaborate much.)
Who spend money on all useless things in the world, and save where there should have been an expense

This is weird as I'm not trying to give a philosophy. But the third kind of girls would buy french perfumes and designer clothes worth thousands, and then go to the local supermarket on a bargain day and come back and squeal in their perfectly accented voices, "hey, guess what, I bought this pair of shoes for 1400, it is actually worth 1600! cool na ? " *hug* *squeal* "And you dint ask me about my shopping, I bought these scented candles from Spain, from the malls at 5% discount !" /wow!/

And then they would enter a designer store the very next day, and buy a plain indian kurta looking attire made by a foreign returned goatee sporting 20 something desi who charges 10,000 for the cigars and caviars he imports for his guests (read some more goatee sporting 20 something desis), and hang it in her wardrobe with pride of having secured a trophy from the respected president himself. Girls are strange.

Love and Wishes :)

2005-12-31T14:41:00.000-08:00

To all you wonderful people who bear me on my blog.. here are my sincerest regards..

i hope you will ring in the new year in style..

and i hope that the new year will bring in your life, a lot of colour, brightness and happiness.. :)

love and luck.. :)

The Woman

2005-12-19T23:46:00.000-08:00

My eyed were fixed to the ground
I dreaded it so much
And then I did it as usual
I looked at her
She was staring at me
Just the way she always did
Stone blank eyes
Stone blank expression
I stared back
And I trembled
And then I sat in the car and left
Her face haunted me for a while
And then it was wiped off my thoughts

She sits there near the main gate
Of the compound of our palatial apartments
Homes
Houses
Belonging to people
Belonging to robots
Robots who slog day in and out in swanky offices like mine
And then come back to swanky apartments
Eat and sleep
To go back to swanky offices
And come back to swanky apartments

She sits there
Everyday
Looking at us
With her hazel eyes
There is an unmistakable beauty in them
I sensed it the first day I saw her
Her 2-year-old boy hunts for things nearby
While she sits there
Looking at us
Looking at me
Stone blank eyes
Stone blank expression
And I tremble

I want to tell the guard to send her away
To a place from where she never returns
But I can’t
But I don’t
As I leave my palace everyday
Alone and empty
I dread her
I fix my eyes to the ground
I will not look at her today
I tell myself
And then I look at her
As she sits there
Looking at me
Stone blank eyes
Stone blank expression
And I tremble

I don’t know if she wants something out of me
She never asks
Why?
I pray and hope she would ask for something
But she never does
I park my car close to her
She never notices
I flash my diamonds
She doesn’t care
I look at my palace
She stares at me
Stone blank eyes
Stone blank expression

She haunts me for minutes
Then she is erased
As I enter another palace
Another cage

I am a man
Garbed as a woman
I have been first
Forever I have known
First in grades
First in teams
First in promotions
First in everything
First to make a place in a man’s world for myself

So, there was no place for another soul
No place for another life
From where I lived
From where I saw
It was I
Against them all
I spoke
As they trembled
I clinched my fists
And fought
It was I
Against them all

Mom said husband
I said no
Dad said family
I said never
There was no place for another soul, another life
From where I lived
From where I saw
I outlived my youth
In silent introspection
And quiet contemplation
It was I
Against them all
I clinched my fists
And fought

And then she came
Weak
Fragile
Brown
With a child who ran around hunting for things
While she sat there
And looked
With her hazel eyes
Looked at me
Stone blank eyes
Stone blank expression
While I trembled

Monday morning
While others grumble and groan
I wake with a twinkle in my eye
I dance in my palace
Empty palace
I dance alone
I dance with joy
I want to reach the other palace
And fight

My eyes are fixed to the ground today
I dread it
I dread her.
And then I do it,
I look at her
My feet lose momentum
I halt and turn
She is not there
The corner is empty
The child is missing
The car is ready
I start walking
Towards the corner
The guard stands up
She was anaemic
And malnourished
apart from suffering from Leukaemia
Died last night
Sitting there
With her child in her lap
Open eyes
Hazel eyes
The child was taken by some woman from a nearby home, a house
I stare at him

And then I walk
I sit in the car and leave
She haunts me for a while
"I'll look for the child."
I tell myself
And then she is erased
As I enter the second cage

Of computers and frustrations

2005-11-28T23:42:00.000-08:00

In some absolutely inexplicable way, my comp has started showing a weird phenomenon these dayz. All the students leave their comps ON, when in classes etc. But my computer ji, after 3 or 4 hours of non-use just becomes dead. Nothing works! Just like a little pet who hates to be ignored. So it means I have to restart it around 3 times a day on an average !

And come to think of it, I bought it for over 50 k around four years bak. Now if people look at it after I tell them this, they think either I'm mad or lying. It looks like such an antique, from the remains of the Harappa and Mohenjodaro excavation. I am planning to put it up on display, when there is an exhibition of the by-products of the 12th century civil-war.

20 random things about a random person

2005-11-24T00:46:00.000-08:00

Though I really wanted to do something like this and truly believe that it is a great way to take out time and think about yourself, but right now the push for this post has been the tag by Hirdu, Ranjan and apurv.. (dont know if som other blogfrenz hav also tagged me coz i dint chek..) So lets see how this goes... :)

1. I am amazingly lazy. The capacity to procrastinate that I possess can put the smartest of neurologists and brain researchers to shame and bewilderment. But honestly, this is one thing that I (and most of frenz and family) hate in me, so am definitely looking forward to chnge it (since that seems a mammothly impossible task, reduce it). And guess, the point can be extended by professing that I loooove sleeping.

2. I am a major foodie. Give me good food any day, any time, any season, any hour, any place etc etc and I will find it difficult to contain my joy. Actually besides good food, I love good clothes, shoes etc etc also, (though I'd hate to say that this love is coz I'm a girl, but I'm sure it explains the love to an extent)

3. Taking a cue from what i just said as an instant reaction.... I hate the way women and men are segregated, generalizations made about gender, things said that girls can't do this or guys can't do that.. I hate to be told that "tum is profession me fit nahi hogi, kyuki ye ladko ke liye hai" or something like, "mai ladka hu isliye mujhe cooking nahi aati." or "this is a chick thing."

4. I believe strongly about things like plight of orphans, elderly people, wives subjected to domestic violence, rape victims, education deprived few etc.. Since I haven't been strong enough to take out time from my career building exercise till now to devote time to all these causes, I have a deep sense of respect for people who do. I admire people like Medha patkar, Arundhati Roy, Sugatha Kumari, Urvashi Butalia.. (cant genuinely recall names of male activists ! Do not interpret it as a pro-female drive :p )

5. I love writing. This should be evident from my blog, but still I can take this opportunity to assert that writing is one of the best ways of expression according to me, and one art that I find myself happy and comfortable doing. I like wit, and try to immerse it in my writing as much as possible.. talking of reading, I like reading wit, because I can tolerate myself writing serious stuff, but when it comes to reading other people's works, I feel that either it should be highly engrossing or witty. Infact, a secret (that i'd preserved till now) is that it is quite easy for any guy, to charm me with his wit.

6. One of the most random things I notice in other people is..... their fingers ! Really dont know the reason. I like guys' fingers to be strong and girls' fingers to be pretty. (I also notice people's wrist watches moving further from their fingers, but thats besides the point i guess)

7. It is relatively very easy to hurt me. I can be quite an emotional fool at times (another thing I'd like to change, and become more emotionally consistent) and at other times, I can be as indifferent as wood. One lesson that I hav learnt off late, is that it is dumb to have expectations out of all the people you know (which I did till some time back !) Life can be quite blissful if you take what it gives you with open arms, and expect only from the ones closest to you.

8. I am often told that I have a wacky sense of humour. A friend once told me that he blessed me with his friendship, only because he was surprised to find out that even girls can make people laugh..! (yes, my fists are clenched). Actually this runs in my family in a way. When we have family gatherings, it is not your usual punjabi diamond displaying aunties sitting with fake smiles, its actually a grin-riot most of the times. And that's actually one of the best compliments one can give me. I often think of myself as a joker, like to laugh and make others laugh.

9. I find it very difficult to hide my irritation for people who fake accents or those who dig their noses in public. (you can recall the scene in jhankar beats, where the guys have to shake hands with their boss, whose fingers were adorned with stuff from inside his nose). About fake accents, the most recent incident has been when this guy called me up from out of nowhere, three dayz back. He had an awefully artificial Dev-Anand influenced accent. I had to tell him after 5 minutes, that there is an attendance in the mess for dinner (!) which I can't miss.

10. I think all of us should be more polite and courteous towards each other. Considering the harm careless words can cause (ask me!), it would be so nice if the world was full of considerate people who smile more often. Read this article by Karan Thapar sometime back, where he mentioned how he was greeted by smiling people almost everywhere abroad, but in India it was sadly just the opposite.

11. Sometimes I wish I was born in some other country. This does not in the least say that I am not proud of my nationality, it is just that some bad things about our country seem so unchangeable that it frustrates me. For instance, the terrorism is so uncalled for. I think it is very important, that all of us can walk on the roads without feeling intimidated. Also, I feel I deserve all those facilities and comforts like in the U.S., that money can buy me.

12. The worst thing about me is that I suck at time-management. Find it very difficult to be punctual (much to the dismay of anyone and everyone who knows me), allocate time to different works, etc. I thought that it would be one thing that a b-skool would teach me, par abhi tak to aisa nahi hua hai.

13. I abhor lizards, one thing which my mother has passed on to me and my sister (apart from her good luks, ofcors :-p ) I dread touching a lizard someday. Infact to deal with this fear of most animals, I have decided to keep a pet dog, when i buy my own house. Hope it is soon.. :)

14. Most of my closest frenz, are people who are believed to be shy !! Now thinking into the reasons, I feel that it is probably coz I get comfy wid them soon due to their "talkin less, listening more" hehe...Somehow not very comfortable with people who talk too much, unless it is plain intelligence that is being reflected in what they are talkin of, which I would definately enjoy.

15. I would like to get married in the christian style once (I mean with the same guy), just because I love the bride's dress so much, courtesy all the english fillums I have seen. You can say that, I am a very visual person, feel very happy when I see beautiful food (ummm..), scenery, kids, clothes etc.

16. I belong to the Shahrukh Khan school of romance, just like 9999999.. other girls in India. The man has some magic wand, he sure knows how to woo a girl, and that seems to explain all his popularity and multi-million dollar endorsement contracts. Actually the reason for the latter is, that he is plain shrewd.

17. I am addicted to the television (one thing that my dad has passed on to me). My mom screams her lungs out whenever I go home, coz I would just source some grub, cola, magazines and plonk myself in front of the TV not to budge for hours together. But, isn't that the most enticing way of living life, mom? :-(

18. I am not a very gutsy person. I am not very kicked about the idea of taking risks, or living life unconventionally. This has expectedly meant that I have not done many things that I could have loved, like making a career in music or dancing (2 things I love) .. Honestly, I would like to take more chances and live life in the fast lane, but it just hasn't been so till now. Sometimes I wonder if this will be one thing I will regret on my death-bed..

19. I would like to live in a house for the rest of my life, which is surrounded by so much greenery that it intoxicates me. It could be a little cottage in the middle of a jungle, a big house with glass walls, thru which I can see a garden, or a government bungalow circled by trees and shrubs (like those at Lutyen's Delhi).

20. I am a good listener most of the times. Many frenz have told me their sob stories and later said that they felt very relieved. I guess that this is because I can put myself in other people's shoes and see their point. Also, though I can be irritatingly judgemental and unforgiving at times, here I try not to do that.

p.s. this has become a never-ending autobiography, so I forgive you if you tell me you read it in 20 instalments.

O darling, this is India..

2005-11-13T23:24:00.000-08:00

A glance over the news-channels can be quite an experience, lately. This particular episode that I am referring to, happened over that very unfortunate and ghastly weekend, where Delhi was rocked by a series of bomb-blasts. It was the Saturday right before Diwali, and many blissfully unaware shoppers had taken time off to celebrate the onset of the Diwali season. Alas, something else was meant to happen...

So what basically happened was, on one particular news channel (it was zee news, in all probability) I saw two gentlemen sitting in the TV studio. The anchor introduced them, as the shopkeepers in the Sarojini Nagar market, of shops located right next to the site of the blast. She then connected them through tele-conferencing to Sheila Dixit. Apparently, these two had played an important role in rescuing many helpless victims on the D-day.

So as soon as the introduction was completed, madam Sheila began her rantings about awarding the two, and others who did similar congratulatory works. Our two men seemed quite disinterested in the awards, and they asked her to explain what she was doing about the culprits. They questioned her on the slack role played by the administation, and hold your breath, went on to telling her that it had been found out that the Sarojini Nagar police knew about the probability of their being a bomb, around two hours prior to the blast.

The way the chief minister docked this question, coming round and round again to some stupid award she would be giving to the heroes, was shocking yet hillarious. The anchor also, I am sure under political pressures, played her part well, shooing the two men from any further revlations and accusations. Ms. Dixit meanwhile, had announced for the 23rd time, about the awards she would giving out to the two and others like them shortly. Seriously, her act of dumbness would have put any bollywood reigning queen to shame.

p.s. I have been stupidly on the look-out for sling bags ever since. The day after Diwali, I was travelling in a bus, and couldn't take my eyes off a shady character carrying a fancy bag, for the entire two hours of travelling, while the other passengers seemed pleasantly ignorant. Have we become apathetic or just indifferent?

To Paradise and Back (Part 2)

2005-11-10T00:53:00.000-08:00

After repeated threats and ransom calls by anonymous callers, I thought it was high time I put up pictures of the part 2, where actually human beings feature. Do read the notes at the end of the snaps, because I have dared to reveal some rather exciting (?!) moments I went through, at this first of its kind adventure outing of mine.

So, this is when we all descended from our bus, walked for around 15 minuts to reach a point where we were stuffed in rafts and sent to the tents.. (no, this pic doesnt feature me, I was too engrossed in sampling the raft to see if had a hole, which could capsize it. I stopped doing that and sat down, only when the guide threatened to offload me in the middle of a rapid.)

This is that 15-minute walk.. this particular stretch was particularly arduous and narrow..

This is a long-shot of the first activity of the trip. It was a blind-folded activity, requiring us to use some equipment and build structures on the beach.

I guess that's all the pics you guys will be able to tolerate in one go.. so I rest my case here.. Below is a compilation of the highlights of the trip, from my vision..

On Saturday, we went for rock-climbing, (I couldn't find a picture of it). Now I was the leader of my group. We had to complete a certain number of points and I had the onus. Despite being really (make that really really) scared of heights, I thought that I had to go up. So I took sturdy shoes, and began my trek. Right in the middle of the almost vertical mountain, the man who was holding my rope on the top shouted that there was some problem. Before I could understand something, he said "helper behosh ho gaya hai !". As if this was not enough, he left the rope and JUST RAN AWAY. There I was paranoid of heights, hanging in the middle of the huge rock just holding on to a boulder. Add to this that I was without a rope for a full 15 minutes, with people shouting from below, "sab thik ho jayega, darr mat !" (ya, right!) I don't know what exactly gave me the strength, because I actually handled the mid-air suspension pretty patiently, and the guy returned and pulled me up. Thank-you God.
During the night navigation, I was one of the unfortunate souls not having a torch. And believe me it was pretty scary. To depict how scary it was, sample this- it was actually called "the leopard hunt" earlier! They changed the name for the sake of some weak hearts in our batch, I guess. So during this 1-hour, I slipped God knows how many times, and each time I could hear the stone which just got pushed from under my foot, going into the valley, deep below. Not only that, but I also hallucinated seeing practically all ghosts, animals and weird creatures. It was one hell of an experience, truly.
The firangi whom you can see in my team picture, on the far left, made sure I was entertained (?!) throughout the return journey. He helpfully imparted gyaan on what love means, how it feels to be in love, how he was heart-broken for months when his girl friend dumped him and what not. I tried to be nice and Indianly hospitable, but my generous attention span soon belied me, and I just pretended to be asleep for the rest of the return journey! Thank you Mr. Chow Chow for depriving me of some nice sight seeing.

To Paradise and Back (Part 1)

2005-11-08T22:32:00.000-08:00

Yes, thats exactly what I feel right now. I have recently come back from Rishikesh, where I was stationed for 2 days. And I have returned with so many souvenirs that I'm wondering how all of that really fitted in those 48 hours.

We were a group of around 40 students of our college, as a part of an educational outbound trip. We left on the night of Friday, 4th November and returned on the night of Sunday, 6th November. It was a packed 2-day extravaganza, which consisted of almost all adventures ranging from river rafting, rock climbing, trekking, camping, to night navigation in the jungle.

My foto-album is spilling over with the loads of photographs I have to show, and already have had 3 friends warning me of dire consequences, if I do not put them up for display soon. How I plan to go about this is, to put up the pics of the scenic delight in this part and the snippets of the adventure sports in the part 2. So darlings here you go..

This is the breath-taking environ in which we stayed..

These are the tents where we were put up..

And this is the white sand beach right in front of the tents. Stop ribbing your eyes, this is actually a place ahead of Rishikesh, and not some phoren locale..

This was a part of the dining area..

And this last photograph of today is that of the point where the raft was supposed to stop after more than an hour of a rocking white water ride..

It is clear that I am completely mesmerized by what I have been through, and I believe that it is the perfect cure for all boredom-induced, fatigue-instigated, routine-encouraged and montony-generated ailments of life.. so till I upload the pics of the mind-blowing advetures, take care..

An Old Memory from the Archives.. :)

2005-11-02T00:29:00.000-08:00

Was scanning through some stuff on my comp for some work, and stumbled upon something that brought a flush of memories suddenly.. :)

This is actually an old photograph, (not very old really, I was in class 12th). Its of an inter zone school competition, a debate to be precise. This particular round was held inside our school itself. Here in this snap, I am standing on the stage in my adorable school uniform, (We were really proud of our uniform, believe me!) That's my auditorium stage, and that's a make-shift kinda podium. :p Behind you can see a table where the time-keepers etc were sitting, and some funny banners of Domino's pizza, but its irrelevant here. And.... ok let the picture do the talking now!

And another thing is that its a competition where I won the first prize. lol !! So all in all it was a very sweet memoire in a way. Just wanted to put it there so that its a part of my blog and my memories forever..

Uncle D

2005-10-29T00:04:00.000-07:00

Hi diary,

I am writing after many days this time. I had promised you on my twelfth birthday that form now on I will talk to you every day. And now I am about to turn thirteen and writing after so much time. But you do not know what trouble all of us have gone through in the past few months. Mike, who just entered graduate school, met with an accident three months back. I still remember each and every detail of the day when he was coming out of a taxi with a group of friends, and as he crossed the road, were struck by a car driven by a drunk teenager.

All of us were really worried about him and I don't think there was a single day mom did not spent crying. Dad was a support, strong and quiet. He kept trying to make both of us laugh with his old army days' jokes. But you know what, I saw him one Saturday, with tears in his eyes, sitting in the garage among Mike's childhood toys. To see dad who has been a pillar for all of us throughout, breaking down, has been one of the worst things in my life.

We had almost lost hope when the doctor had told us on that fateful day three months back, that there was hardly any chance of Mike surviving. He said that the survival rate for such people was abysmally low. Mike had suffered significant brain damage and orthopaedic injuries. And adding to that, there were blockages in his carotid arteries. The surgery took close to 30 hours. Mom and I sat huddled together on the bench outside the operation room. Dad kept pacing up and down the corridor, all the time. He said he was sure of the doctor's expertise, but every now and then I could see him, whispering a silent prayer and then wiping off a little tear-drop from his cheeks.

Mike survived, but the post-accident traumatic impact was so much on him that he stopped speaking, walking or even opening his eyes. I asked everyone a lot about what had happened, but nobody told me anything. I requested him to speak with me or atleast look at me. But I knew that he was still mad at me for telling mom about his late night parties. Then one day a nurse secretly told me that Mike has gone in a "coma" and he was in a very critical state. That explained the death-like silence at home, which had started haunting me now. So much so that I had started dreading going home after school. Mom never talked. She just went about her work mechanically as if she were a robot. Dad spoke at times but only when it was absolutely essential.

I visited Mike everyday on my way home from school. I just sat looking at him for sometime, and then quietly walked home. One day, while walking towards his room, I saw a man dressed in white clothes looking at Mike's door. I had never seen him before. Though mom, dad and Mike always scold me for speaking with strangers, I still went up to him and smiled. He looked at me for a moment, and then turned away. But I had seen such foreigners before. They seem snooty at first, but at the end they all like talking to little girls with freckles and pony-tails, as they tell me. :) So I said to him, "Hey mister, are you looking for somebody? You can ask me, I have been coming to this place for quite some time now and almost know all the patients. They are all my friends."

He seemed quite shocked at this and I didn't understand why. He started walking towards Mike's room. Interested, I walked faster and caught up with him. Seeing me approaching him, he said, "I don't need your help, I know everything, I come here everyday." But by then I was already wondering about something else, "Hey, you look like my uncle Peter. He stays in Texas. Are you a relative of his who has come to visit Mike?" "Go away kid, I am in a hurry." He snapped at me. Though very scared, I smiled but could not keep it for long, and could soon feel tears rolling down my eyes. He finally softened and bent down to pick me up. He held me in his laps. "Do not cry kid. I did not mean to hurt a little pretty girl like you. What's your name?"

By the end of two hours, me and D uncle (that's what he was called, he told me) had become the best friends in the world. He was really delighted to hear about the third prize I had won in the inter class painting competition, but laughed aloud when I told him that only four students had participated. He smiled throughout when I was telling him how Katie and I spent our lunch breaks on the swings, when the other kids were having food, or how our teacher had to make us sit in different corners so that we could stop talking.

Then, suddenly at once he leapt up and looked extremely worried. He said he had an urgent work to be completed, and was already late for it. But I was in no mood to let go of such a good listener. Since the time mom and dad had stopped showing interest in my stories, and Katie had changed school, I had nobody to talk with. So we went on talking. Finally he said that it was too late and the work could not be done now as the 'deadline' had been crossed, so he had to leave. I had pestered him for so many things in the past few hours, that I thought best to keep quiet now.

Before he was leaving, he gave me a tight hug and said that he will remember his sweet 'friend' forever, that was me. I beamed and told him that he could visit me anytime at my house on Edge Hill. He said that he did not like visiting people he loved. That was one of the most surprising things I had heard, and told him that he should not think like that. People he loves will like listening from him. He almost had a scorn on his face when he said before bidding me goodbye, "Nobody like listening from me."

I never saw my dear friend again. Actually the month that followed was so busy that I did not even have the time to look for him. Mike had started healing, as the doctor said, almost miraculously. He opened his eyes after a week. By the end of the second week, he was talking, walking and eating. Now Mike has come home, and the doctor says he can join college , the next month. I have never seen dad so happy. He keeps hopping from place to place, unable to contain his joy. And anything said about mom's happiness would be less. She never lets Mike go out of her sight even once.

I am very happy that all is well at home. Though I miss Katie very much. And I miss uncle D. I want to share this joy with him, and I am sure he will smile in the same grand way at it. Since the last one week, I have been thinking of uncle D, and wishing that he would come to meet me again. I don't know who he was or why he went to the hospital every day or why the nurse at the hospital went by him as if there was nobody standing there. But I know that he is my best friend. I wish he soon comes to meet me. If you see him somewhere, tell him I need him.

Love
Amanda

Delhi Winters

2005-10-26T00:35:00.000-07:00

The absolutely awesome Delhi winters are round the corner and, and boy it is getting better by the day. This weather is what makes Delhi so adorable. (song in the background: Pyaar tera...Dilli ki sardi...)

It is all the more exciting to be able to wear the most amazing clothes, (read colorful sweaters and sexy jackets). I have to remember to come back loaded with woolens, when I go home for Diwali this weekend. I want to look at the winter right up in its eyes.. lol..

Watch out for a detailed description of the loveable Delhi winter on this blog soon... :-)

I Am

2005-10-24T18:09:00.000-07:00

In the deepest moments of sorrow,
I think.
In the highest moments of ecstacy,
I think.
In the depths of my existance,
I think.
Through the mindless madness,
I think.

I think I am a smile,
waiting to be adorned.
I think I am a silence,
passive yet uncontrolled.
I think I am a melody,
floating in the air.
I think I am the darkness,
nothing to take, nothing to share.

I feel like a volcano,
There is lava inside me.
I feel like a traveller,
Have a long way to go.
I feel like a performer,
With thousands of eyes upon me.
I feel like a desert,
vast, yet alone.

Do not love me,
For I revel in solitude.
Do not ignore me,
For I need you around.
My smile is my mask.
My tears are a disguise.
Do not try to understand me,
For I am a mysterious riddle, a puzzling story.

Exams Over !

2005-10-22T16:30:00.000-07:00

Oh dear blog, thou happen to be the first entity with whom I'm sharing this divine piece of information. Thou shalt not imagine my exiliriation and euphoria right now.

p.s. I want to do a lot of things, for instance burn off a nearest dance floor. Lemme warn'em to keep their fire extinguishers ready. Meanwhile all of you keeping baring them all.. (your teeth, I mean, wat were you thinking?)

Crude philosophy to think over

2005-10-17T04:32:00.000-07:00

Read some very insightful lines today for one of my electives of this semester, and just wanted to put them down here. Here they go.. "Only when we are able to influence ourselves- to maintain the desire and self-discipline required for change- will we be able to influence others... Attachment occurs when we try to control all aspects of our environment, worry, obsess. We are attached when we lose our self-awareness and react to the hot-zones within disputes; and let people and situations get to us. we cannot hope to ever find the best solutions in this case.

Detachment means that we learn what we can control and what we can't. It is based on the notion that people are responsible for themselves and free to make their own choices... the rule of thumb is that you must detach the most when you think it is the least possible to do it.

When someone does something that you do not like, say an employee consistently comes late, you can safely infer that he or she is not self-aware. You do not have to deal with their problems. But just be careful to seperate the person from the behaviour. Remember how many times have you regretted saying something later, because you were temporarily un-self-aware at that time... See if you can accept the other person's perspective..."

Indian to head Harvard? Not really.

2005-10-15T01:09:00.000-07:00

Is caption ka zyada kuch lena dena nahi hai is post se actually. I read about this piece of news today and jus wanted people who did not know about it yet to get to know now! This is a guy from IIM-A who was famous for taking 2-minute power naps on the eve of exams, and thereafter notoriously topping them. Bade log Badi baatein.

I have my mid-terms starting from wednesday and I have been bribing myself with chocolates and samosas the whole day, to start studying. Alas! now i feel bloated with chocolates and can't even sit. So I'm gonna sleep in sometime. Hey its not my fault. Dont u luk at me lik that. I really really wanted to study. ;)

ok, now the main part of this post. We had a mouse in our hostel room three dayz bak. It all began when I left the door open for an hour. (sshhh.. my roomie doesnt know this, but she wudnt know coz im not telin her and she doesnt read my blog either so I'm safe :p) Ya so coming bak to the mouse. The light hearted creature decided to make the most of being in a girl's room and he danced all night in our room! Every two minutes you could hear either me or my roomie screaming coz we felt thr was something on our quilt ! A fren asked me how i ws doing and i told her, "Ek jerry hai room me, baki sab thik hai. table pe ghar-ghar khel raha hai, baki sab thik hai. Bed pe bhangra kar raha hai, baki sab thik hai..." And as u cud hav guesed, she cudnt hear it entirely coz she had fainted laughing.

By the way the IIPM drama is goin far, maza aa raha hai. Its like a real life bollywod story complete with action, drama, emotions and heart-break. This movie is far far better than the unforgettable one the school's director made som tim bak ! But as they say, "A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good."

Today is just another day

2005-10-11T11:13:00.000-07:00

South Asia has been hit by a major earthquake lately and there is so much loss and sorrow that you and I can never believe it. Thousands of people who left their homes to go to work, schools, relatives' or other places suddenly found themselves in front of death counting their last moments. Maybe they had just made plans for the day, the week, the month or their whole lives...

Saw the picture of a little crying kid stuck in the earthquake-hit area of Pakistan recently. It was one of those moments when I felt so powerless and vulnerable that it sends shivers through me right now too. Definitely one of the things to have deeply touched me. It is heart-wrenching to see how those little kids are stuck in that rubble waiting for someone to claim them as their own. How we suddenly become mere pawns at the hands of mother nature is awe-inspiring. That kid hanging on the shoulders of a man brings goose-pimples on my body whenever I think of him. God please bless him.

Does life really have any value left? with all these terrorist attacks, violences, bomb-blasts; we seem to be telling nature that "you dont worry, we'l do the remaining work for you." No matter what bright hopes the future holds for us, it is nothing compared to the peaceful serene lives our parents have witnessed. Days when a doll lying next to you was meant to be gifted to a your child and not suspected and reported to the police. We have created so many complications for ourselves like there were few already.

I could have talked about the disgusting way we are being made to sit in boring industry talks these days, but the above discussion (or monologue rather) has left me expectedly bitter. So I guess I'd leave it at that. And yes I am particulary pissed at the ad people who post comments on my blog ! Get lost ! this is not a place for you.

Random Thoughts

2005-10-03T03:56:00.000-07:00

I read in the newspaper yestersay that Chetan Bhagat is writing another novel after 5 point someone, and this time it is about the life of people at call canters. He says the reaction of his Indian young readers will determine what he does in his future. Whether he takes up writing full time or not. He says probably a film script will follow for him next. Given his style of writing, I am sure it is going to be a progressive new age cinema kinda film.

Waise I am quite a supporter of those films. It is so easy for you to see yourself in those kind of settings, to visualize yourself going through those kinda situations and turns. If they only made it more convenient to watch these movies in terms of prices and cinemas, these films would be a rage, I'm sure. I think I am gonna end up making those films very soon given my vociferous admiration for them. I plan to just globe trot with a digicam and make crazy films. You can mail me with the amount of funding you are willing to provide for this very innovative venture.

Recently finished 'Fury' by Salman Rushdi. Boy, that guy writes one hell of stories. Till the end I was wondering what he was trying to convey and I still am actually. There is something very cynical about the writing of these South Asian witers and I quite emphathize with their style. They all seem perennially frustrated and desperate to say something that is troubling them from deep within. The western writers seem freeer from unseen shackles in that sense. But you can overlook this comment as it is based on my very limited reading experience.

Finally, "Someone who thinks logically provides a nice contrast to the realworld. "

love.

Now What Do I Call This One ?

2005-09-29T02:01:00.000-07:00

I met an old college fren online recently. Was talking to him about the good'ol free days and out of nowhere we started talking about our college. He was going on rambling somthing arbit when I suddenly said "and I loved the rains of KMC". I just did not realize the weirdness of what I had said or rather the sweetness. (He could not comprehend what i meant and went on a questioning spree. But thats another matter.)

It slowly dawned upon me that I actually meant what I had said. Wherever I have been in life, though not too many places, but the rains of that place have stayed with me. I actually distinctly remember the sweet drizzling of the Arts Faculty early in the December morning, the heavy downpour at the KMC gates when I was entering it on the first day to go and find out if the college was worth me (!), and now the massive thunderstorm like rains at this sprawling campus of MDI which thrill me to no end.

There is something that I carry away with myself after being through all these events in my life but it also is something that is too difficult for me to put in words.Too difficult for me to explain and write about. But there is something for sure. These are like those picture postcards which make beautiful impressions. Those that stay in your memory forever. Those that make you feel nostalgic and giddy no matter how close you are to them. Like the hills outside your windows panes when you are at a hill station, so close that you almost feel you can touch them but in the end you just carry away the vastness of their beauty along with you. I am sure when I will look bak at life some years from now, these snapshots will flash in my memory like some well preserved pieces of treasure which I am going to cherish forever.

A quik one

2005-09-23T11:54:00.000-07:00

Ok am bak quikly. The point is that there are a lot of foreigners on exchnage program in our campus right now like every year. I met a firangi gurl in my colleg who has com on xchang from Vienna, Austria. A very fascinating thing that she said was when she was talkin of indian movies. She had gone to see salam namaste at the neighbourhood mall and was aghast at wat she saw. She said that she never expected so much nudity in hindi movies and forsaw somthing much different. Well this was somthing really surprising for me. I told her that thes movies r mainly for the indians settled abroad. Thankfully she did not expect snakes and charmers in them! we told her that we'l make her see devdas and such movies if she really wanted to see the indian feel. It has been quite eye opening talking to her. The way these people start travelllin from ages of 14-15 opens up their minds and they meet all sorts of people so early in their lives. Its quite nice in a way.

Anyways, it is 12.49 and though its very early as compared to normel standards, I am quite tired and sleepy right now. Nothin lik good'ol sleep. One thing which i shud mention b4 leavin is dat my dear skool MDI has been ranked no 1 among many other b-skools by a magazin today and there is a lot of buzz in the air rit now. We had laddoos distributed by the diro! Really nice halwai laddoos to do mu-meetha.

enuf rustlin for today..now canary flies to her shelter..

Quite an Achievment ?

2005-09-16T13:33:00.000-07:00

I never gave it this much attention but boy am i convinced now ! Having reached the age of 23 without getting addicted to smokin or boozing or dopin used to be a given fact til som tim bak. But it sure seems to be an achievment to me now. And this i realized even more this sunday wen i had gone to a very clos fren's party. I decided it was ok to let my hair down here. But being my conservative self I just took a bacardi breezer. the cranberry flavor was... well ummm.. nice, and I took half a bottle more.

The next thing I knew was that my head was spinning faster than the balling of shane warne (is he a spinner? how does it matter. he's cute.) So there I was talli at my best. Could not even enjoy the yummy cake being served with dollops of chocolate cream. At any normal occasion it would have set my heart aflutter at the speed of 120 km/hr. So i decided to head right bak hom b4 i made a fool of myself.

Though I am tempted to try it again, this time properly with a full head spin, but i have decided that it is just not worth it. I really really see alcohol as just glamour and nothing else. and the moment I will feel that there is something in my life that is just an ornament and nothing else, I will do my best to stay clear of it. Maybe on my next birthday or the day i get placed, i will let go of this resolution for once.

Another thing that i just was noticing the other day is how people react when you laugh at their jokes. Some may just nonchalantly look the other way, but a majority of us just revel in that attention. Humans are basically egoists and it gives their ego high boosts when others laugh at thier wisecracks. And it is one of the easiest ways to make frenz. Though I myself am not a very successful friend maker. Plus my shy nature generally doesnt help me too much in that respect as well. But to tell you the truth I normally do not have the patience to get to know a person and make him or her a part of my life. It takes a lot for me to do that.

Anyways.. this is getting very Ayn Rand types. Having read 'The Fountainhead' and 'The Atlas Shrugged', and now having graduated to the third one 'The Vitrue of Selfishness' I have become quite frothy in my thinking and words. A final word to ponder upon.. "If You Can't Dazzle Them With Brilliance, Riddle Them With Bullets."

It's Been Lovely But I Have To Scream Now.... canary..

BACK to basics

2005-07-31T08:58:00.000-07:00

Ya ok.. am back after a long time.. but there have been reasons.. obviously the most primary of them all being that i hav been my lazy self as usual.

Anyways.. its good to be writing after a long time.. this is obviously my most liberating past times.. when i just let my crazy self filter through.. and besides am in a good mood so my mind is not so clogged forcing me to write crap that even I dont want to read later.

One thing about which I definitely want to mention is this mind blowingly crazy conversation with a fren last night over the messenger and both of us laughed our asses off throughout. It was jus too funny and hillarious to be true. We just discovered that we have a similarly psyched out sense of humour and man! wen we both got into our respective forms, we kept falling off our chairs giggling. He wasn't well and by the end of it, was thoroughly convinced that laughter is the best medicin. I'm sure ur readin this and temme if u think this justifies that mid-night encounter well.

Have lots of submissions lined up but I dont think I want to waste this precious time elaborating on all that. There is so much more interesting happenin in my lyf rit now. Lots of things are beginning to make sense to me and il let you know of it wen im convinced they'l make sense to u too. Ya though I can tell you one thing for sure that you should kp on tryin new things in lif. Like I jus learnt a new way to eat popcorn. Will teach you ppl wen i meet you.

Wat els... ya i read 'Rich Dad Poor Dad' quite a book people. I know now that im in this world with the sole purpose of making lots of love...errrr..... money. Money is wat takes this world round and round buddy. And im gonna have buckets overflowing with it very soon. Robert Kiyosaki beware.. here I come. And im gonna write a better book than you for sure dude.

Waise m missing home like crazy.. dint go home this weekend.. boy im sure crazy. but good coz theres this open house declared suddenly and it wud've been too tough for me to rush bak lik dat. (my first mention of some real happening in my lyf on this blog til now.... not too thrilling so am bak to writing global fart)

b4 I end this piece, a lil FOOD 4 thought ... " A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand."

A new beginning??

2005-06-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

Read this somewhere.. "The proctologist called, they found your head." Ok... well the only thing thats new right now is that I am bak in college after a long hiatus and it feels weird. I mean all the normal things like I'm used to those a/c pleasures, mom's food, said and done; it is genuinely difficult to adjust to this all of a sudden. It again feels like you are again out in the open with noone to fall bak on and have to win the battle individually (phew!)

Man! this is quite a learning for me.. And I sure have many a lessons. Nothing much to share though! have been on a whirlwind tour shifting to the hostel again , setting my room and getting geared up for studies again. So I guess I'll come up with something more worthwhile the next time around. Till then remember to always only borrow money from a pessimist - they don't expect it back.

Canary.

whats in a name

2005-05-17T15:23:00.000-07:00

There is this book that I came across because this guy from my office suggested it and that led to a search on the net leading further to discovery of some other nice books. Right now I feel like reading all those books and more and getting lot of knowledge in this area. Books, no doubt are one’s best friends. But sadly these books get really preachy and I lose interest mid-way.

Now this blog is a mere filler because my fans told me that its been a long time they read me so.. But the point is I’m actually bestowed with a lot of knowledge right now and can flood your screens with gyan. Just that I chose not to do it abhi. I know lesser mortals like you are not ready for sudden doses of divine information.

Now, the blog name. Well, actually it was written long time back when I had some other material to pen down. What it was, totally escapes me (I don’t rely on my RAM too much anyways) So I decided to continue with the very name itself. But I feel obliged to link it with this entry now. So there are two things that strike me when I venture out into that conquest… firstly the point is that there’s nothing in surface things like names, looks etc. What’s inside is always so much more exciting and interesting. Secondly, first impressions are just not the deciding impressions. I feel that you always discover a person over a long period. Not that I am an expert at it. In fact you can count on me for making the most skewed judgments. Well that’s besides the point here. All humans have flaws. Lol..

Now, my very generous attention span has belied me and my feet are itching to stroll around in the office and my fingers are itching to torture some humble soul on the yahoo messenger (which I’ve discovered had turned out to be my bestest friend off late, not only jokingly but also because it has reunited me with so many old friends) ya, so I was talking of me nervous energy. Well I take your leave and carry on with the very austere activities now. So keep exercising your pupils till I take the centrestage again.

Rustling as usual..
Canary..

Hey u..the earth is ful..go hom.

2005-04-08T04:11:00.000-07:00

Can u believe it.. im at office rit now!! This is my second day at work.. and I have practically nothing to do.. have been told to read up som stuff on my project topic and that too is so ambiguous that I really am going by my gut instinct completely which means reading up random stuff that I come across and getting really bored sitting in front of the comp the whole day, not feeling lik reading the printed stuff, going to my yahoo messenger every 2 minutes to see if any of my frenz r online, messagin “im bored” to almost ev1 under the sun and visiting weird websites to read up some humour to give my teeth some exercise (though it isn’t helping much.. lemme tel u.) this is more dreadful coz this office is really unconventional with reely young staff and open cubicles meaning thereby tht ppl comin n goin can c me doin this stupid stuff and every now n then I caste a guilty glance arnd t chek if som1 is spying on me! though I don think thrs any1 hu's got that kinda vella time.

Well I lot actually has progressed in life, though. Exams over.. a week of lazy vacationing and im ready to hit the board-room! Wow was I all kicked? And lo here I am hitting the bored-room! Lol. But m sure its not gonna be so soon wat wid loads of learning waiting to happen! (ya rit!) som of the gals of my office hav jus left for som grub and my tummy is nt so happy at this, let me tel u. Im so hungry rit now tht I cud eat up a man alive! (well tht ws too filmy, don tak it literally, am sure men r nt so palitable!)

My supremely divine desire of creatin a loooongish blog has been behind todays Endeavour.. im also at my sarcastic best, and u can c tht thru my amazingly happy writing jus now!! And If the days here r gonna go this way then u can bet many such spiritually mesmerizing blogs await ur blessed lives in the dayz to com.. so till I honk again… miss me (obviously).

long time...

2005-03-23T20:47:00.000-08:00

BLOG UNDER CONSTUCTION

The blog ws a product of sleep induced by endless crap-work at MDI. Its going to come bac in a new avtar very soon. but if u've still managed to read it, boy! u're darn lucky!

THE canary...

$@&!#*@%

2005-03-11T07:38:00.000-08:00

well well well... i have deleted oneof my very (very very very!!!!) beloved blog entries by mistake.. (does anyone know how to get it bak by the way?) i feel absolutely awful right now and am ready to shriek any moment. that was the first blog i had written by the way. before i pour out all the unmentionable language that would so very (very very very) much decorate my blog, lemme go.

Vacuum..?

2005-03-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

Getting amazingly charged about doing something and then finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else is astha for you.. So ever since I tasted the holy waters of this sacred (well almost?) blog-world, I have been waiting with bated breath to get struck by flashes of intellect and put exquisite words of wisdom for you to read.. alas nothing remotely like dat seems to be happening, is another matter.. and i sit here staring at the screen like a rabbit (rabbit??) with lots to be studied for tom's classes !! i hope to return in a very short time with loads of gyan and my trademark wit (modesty thy name is astha..). Till then keep paying your bills on time..

Life from 5'2' (continued)

2005-03-06T00:07:00.000-08:00

I know , i know. all of you have been dying to know what came to be of the girl after dat fateful day. well here is how it went.. there was this one friend whose judgement she could totally rely on and so she happily passed on her blog address to him so that he could give his expert opinions. He replies almost within an hour and without much ado completely slashes apart her creative genius displayed through her first endeavour. so the girl decides to avenge the damage to her inflated ego through a mind-bloggling, arrrr mind-boggling blog this time. this contemplation takes a little less than 2 weeks only by the way.
she again collects all her energies and sits down in front of her computer. but as they say, something else was meant to happen? she forgets her very well thought of password and cant access her own da*n blog! she tries multifarious permutations and combinations to save dear life. alas! it doesnt help. by the tme she figures how to go around dat problem its alredy a month past her previous blog :)
she gathers herself to type something again and these last two blogs entries are what it turns out to be.. that girl as you would have figured out by now, happens to be me and i promise that the next time u read this space, you'll be in for some good stuff (though dont bet your money on it! :) ) instead of the mindless crap that you were a witness to till now!
anyways.. keep smiling and ya needless to say keep loving me ;)

Life from 5'2'

2005-03-04T13:48:00.000-08:00

Can u beat this... A girl has been dying to create a blog for some contiguous centuries but always manages to find excuses and delay the whole thing.. Then one fine day she decides to give it a headstart. And so she happily sits down in front of her comp to write some crap with the use of her limited RAM. Lo! She cant think of anything! She thought she would cook up humungus stories of gallantry and valor but alas nothing strikes to her on the d-Day. Resigning to her fate she jots down some inconsequential lines amounting to nothing at all and invites all her remotely located aunties and uncles to see what their bitiya has written. They make well crafted bahanas to show how their infinitely busy schedules would not permit them to access the vast collections of crucial data like this floating on the internet. The girl understands that they mean something totally different actually. She knows that they are subtly admitting that they have little knowledge of computers and can never get a hang of them. So she never expects any intelligence from their partially defunct memories as it is.
What happens after that?...........stay tuned.

This picture on this post? Well this has been edited quite recently (I'm not tellin u da date) and put up here solely because I found it extremely exotic. Plus it also shows dat I'm comin at you with my blogs at the speed of light. Pray that I get to learn this sensuous (yes, thats what I think it is! ) sport someday..