Wasted

Words & More For You

2011-03-17T23:33:00.000-07:00

Just write. You know, scribble words, then see if they can stick around to become a sentence, and then see where that takes me. That was & is the deep desire that is one thing very constant in my life. All this while, when I was not writing, I had hell loads of ideas or things that I wanted to write about, but I also felt this huge urge/guilt to first write about this big thing that I did in my life. I have been wanting to write about it, but I know I would not be able to do justice to the way I felt doing it & the fear of not succeeding in describing aptly the most important event, I have not written at all. So, I give the bare facts.

I recently got married to be precise on 23rd Nov. It was the usual Indian affair with lots of fun, love, & emotions. I loved every bit of it. The best thing of all this is I am to be with the man I love all my life, & no it does not scare me a bit. It used to, the thought of it used to scare me, but the reality does not. The reality is so much more that I find it funny I was ever scared of it to begin with. Yes, there are more relatives to talk to, think about, care for, & yes it sometimes leaves you exhausted & overwhelmed, but when you see that happiness & love in their eyes for you, it all seems alright. It all seems worthwhile. It's beautiful to know that there is this one person back home who would do anything for you without you even asking for it. This one person who you can rant on & on about any & everything & there would be no judging you, they would listen just cause you want to talk about it & nothing more. It's the most amazing feeling to be in love, marriage for me was only this necessary thing that I needed to do to be with the person I loved. But it has come to be more. It's wonderful to know that you are being missed at home even if you go out with your girl-friends for a couple of hours. The best thing in the world is to re-treat back to that nook which both of you have cultivated lovingly, & all worries seem to fade away. What else do I need?

I could go on & on & there would be no end. As I feel I have not done a good job, I haven't told the best things yet...but that I could never do. Somethings in life are just worth experiencing for yourself. About the rest, I can write & will write in time...untill then

The Smell

2010-10-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was driving back from work with my friend in her two wheeler. I had to go to check out this house. Need to move. My friend offered me to drive me there. We took a de-tour from work as the main road is way to crowded at that time of the evening. We took the longer & emptier road. Since, one of the partitions was closed, we had to drive to the end of the road to take a U turn. That was the farthest I have been on that particular road, one of the sides has huge rocks/boulders & the other is sparingly spotted with trees. As we drove down the road, I had a weird feeling of De-ja-vu. The evening light & the empty road with its setting, reminded me of something. My nose flared up again & again to catch the smell which it associated with this setting. I kept trying to smell something that ought to have been there. But I couldn't smell a thing. I don't know what my brain was trying to pull back, which memory or rememberance that was failing to come up to the surface. I didn't say anything to my friend for I was at such a loss. I almost wanted to cry in desperation, I knew the setting too well in my head it was from back home but the smell was just not there. I don't even really know what I wanted to smell, but there had to be this smell that was supposed to be there & not finding it there made me rest-less. Not being able to remember what it should have smelt like, made me feel sad & old. Have there been so many of things to remember in my life that I have started to forget? I am only 28 this should not have been happening yet. I am supposed to be able to recollect things from back home. I am supposed to immediately relish things which resemble from things back at home. Have I lived far too many years away from home?

2010-10-07T04:23:00.000-07:00

Lonely corners
crumble & become tiny
there is no space to call my own

Overwhelming noises
magnify & become unbearable
there is no silence to call my home

Known sea of faces
rotate & manipulate
there is no place for love

This is the exact moment
when I attempt at stopping to think...

Has Toilet Humor Died?

2010-09-30T22:55:00.000-07:00

The other night some of my friends & I were chatting & randomly the topic about Toilet Humor came up. By toilet humor I mean the rude-obscene graphics & comments people would leave behind in school, public, train toilets. There was this time in life when we could not just avoid it. Some jokes/comments which were so dirty yet so funny that you would uncontrollably giggle at them & share them with you girl-friends in hushed voices. Then the trip to the that specific loo would start. The one liners like "apna bhavishya apne hathon mein lo," or others were surely one of the wittiest line one could come up while pee-ing.
I remember once, I was traveling by train from Pune along with some of my friends & my friend went to the sleeper class train toilet & came back with a surprised expression on her face. She whispered hurriedly in my ears saying, someone has made a comment about her in the train toilet. I rushed to go to the left Indian style one. I went in locked the door & hurriedly for that one comment. All I found was "this is for the girl in the red t-shirt, my phone number is this & my D*** size is a perfect fit for you. I stared with a furious expression & abused 'man-stupid-horny-kind.' As I was stomping my way back to my seat, I gave the most hateful looks to all the guys like I was punishing them just through my eyes. Suddenly, a red block. A tall really tall girl wearing a red t-shirt was standing in front of me & she was a bit older than we were & much better to look at. I was so happy to see her for that second that I forgot that how stupid me & my friend were being. I literally ran back to my friend who was so upset & the first thing I told her was "there are other better looking older girls in the train wearing red t-shirts, I just three girls in shades of red..." she gave me this happy look & we continued our journey without worrying about the train toilet.

When I look back, I find the whole thing really amusing & a lot of these images of trian toilets, school & public toilets, train & bus seats & the wooden frames cross my mind with so many of such messages & I Love Yous. I try & recollect the last time I saw one of these & obviously fail to find anything in the recent past. I wonder, if toilet humour has died its own, slow, natural death?

Dried Flowers

2010-09-16T23:23:00.000-07:00

Dried flowers have a quality of their own. They suddenly remind us of some forgotten moment we once experienced, the memory of which still lingers, like the remembrances of a lonely sea shore.

Out of nowhere, when you are reading an old book or a diary you will come across this dried piece of a flower stuck to page 159 leaving almost an incomprehensible stain on some words & an even fainter smell of how the flower once smelled. Then you are literally forced to go down memory lane thinking about the moment in which you were young & someone loved you enough to give you just one wild flower, & was naive & innocent enough to not care how one wild flower compared to a decorated bouquet of gardened flowers. That kind of innocence is inevitably lost when you enter your 25-26+. Love is no longer the moment of spontaneity but it turns to something more trained & practiced. Frankly, I never got a bouquet in my life, except for once, to appreciate what a bouquet of lilies or something more extravagant would make you feel, but I miss the times when suddenly out of the blue my childhood buddy would pick me a wild lilac looking bush from the side of the street just cause he felt I should know how it smelt & to admire the walk we were glad to have from our way back from school. I miss the moment when my little brother bicycled in the scorching sun to show me this bright yellow (yellow is my fav. colour) flower that he had found in one of the playgrounds he was playing.

Perhaps its the end of an era where wild absurd flowers will find their way to random books. No one will ever suddenly find an old dried flower on a lazy afternoon while re-reading one of their old favorites.

Initiated After A Friend's Post

2010-08-26T04:37:00.000-07:00

Globalization, finally I say it aloud, is surely not a good thing for people who suffer poverty. It is perhaps great for people like you; who have the luxury of using internet & more so of reading things online & for me who can afford the same. But for me, I feel guilty every day when I walk into my posh multi-national company while there are many who are being migrated from their homes, lives, & cultures at the very instance. But as Mango Indian aptly calls my kind 'the corporate prostitutes,'
after drawing a good salary I then have the time to care for the rest. I don't complain on called so, it is the truth afterall.

I don't know what is the solution, if we don't go for globalization. I don't have another 'ism' or 'ation' to replace it with & make everything right. But I surely know that replacing indeginous cultures & people with shiny polished steel frames & botox faces is not the right way. Pardon the exaggeration. But sthe pain I feel is overwhelming, when everytime I go back home & my father narrates about another bout at migrating the Agharias (a tribe in my region Chattisgarh). I know organizations like the UNICEFs really care (atleast i want to believe that) but is getting proper urinals & toilets really that important? For me I know it is, but me being the product of urban bastardization, cannot really speak for those living in a remote village in Bastar. So, I question frequently how does an organization like UNICEF decide for them? Do they understand their lives, the way they spend or want to spend their day? & if they do, then I want to learn the trick too, because sometimes its far too much of guilt that I live with & I would surely like to get rid of it.

I am little more of a romantic to not hope. I still hope that perhaps something could change this. I still wish that by some magic the 'de-contruction theory' that Derrida talked so often about comes true & my people are spared from what so lures the urban middle/upper class.

Images - 2

2010-05-24T23:27:00.000-07:00

Shades of green & blue...& in them the various shades of the market. Black hands plucking old leaves...starched shirt accounting for them all. A nameless shade of 7-up flutters in the summer breeze. Another crushed tomato underneath. Underpaid lives sort food for lavish lunch that I eat. The dead leaves make their way through the bizarreness of lives unknown. Noses flinch as the raw smell wafts through the kitchen door. Outside black hands still struggle to separate the good from the bad. Droplets of sweat at the forehead & back of their necks drip, I sure can't see them from the top where I stand...

The glistening red & the greens spotted with the stalks of white in between, almost like the day after Holi perhaps. I am forced to think of my hometown...I hold my thoughts as I don't want to think of home. I wanted to capture the image...but home intervenes & I think of what Ma would be doing, Papa would have left to write & print. Ma retired now, would stay back & make unwanted lists for my wedding & my brothers. I wonder what else would be keeping her busy? How would she be passing the day? Its mostly the evening calls with my sister & me that keeps her pass the day in a dullness I only experience when I think of home...most times I can keep myself from thinking...I know I am getting better at it with each day away from it.

& this is exactly how I relate every damn thing I see to home...damn me & my nostalgia...

Images - 1

2010-05-23T20:52:00.000-07:00

the colorless sky
breathes
the scent left behind
of the sweaty black backs
filling water
from a dry well.

children
bare foot
unborn
learn from organisations
the ways of modern living.

parched lands
evoke hopelessness
in old hazy eyes
which stare far away for rains.

Amongst all this a dream
forgotten
crumbles & scatters
on a farmers crop less field.

I stare
& allow the pain of it all
settle somewhere deep...

Judgements...

2010-05-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

I Judge.

I admit to anyone who mistakenly has had any mis-conceptions about me (usually people think I am a snob...so hardly anyone would have the misconception.)

It is a different thing that I like & try to be less judgmental about things, concepts, thoughts, & people. I actively try doing it...as a result, I realize...I am more accepting of things, concepts, thoughts, & people that are not the norm. I am good with accepting things which are 'usually' unaccepted to the social world of middle, upper class Educated India. I specify the subset only to be clear to me...you may choose your own. I am therefore unable to accept things which are the norm...this is where I find difficulties. I am not able to comprehend leave aside accept the routines people follow to live a hassle free, homo-phobic, chauvinist, insensitive lives & think all is well? I try to understand & live a life caring for all these & other such ideas & ways of life...& when I don't accept the urban, party going, loud, dressy lives...I am called a snob...when the whole of India has given themselves the permission to look & sneer at all things thats important to me...why I can't I judge them? Everytime a group of young people hear the word feminist from my mouth...they scatter away & whisper in corners & more so are scared of me...everytime I say no to going to a posh place for a drink stating my reason of feeling guilty for living so lavishly...I am looked upon as a looser...so why can't I smirk at their la-di-da lives??

I choose the fact that I can...& I choose to not feel bad about it.

Inspite of all this self-proclaimed theories about me...I continue to work for a multi-national company...& live an urban life...you sure can go ahead & judge me.

Colors

2010-05-17T03:12:00.000-07:00

plums all around
unicorns ride the sun
& the green asks the yellow for the moon.

embroidered pieces of heart
fly across the ocean
& the red sneaks a kiss from the blue.

patterns on the floor
swim over a sleepy face
& the white smirks at the black.

rosaries on thin fingers
turns & twists in cubes
& the purple escapes the charade of the pink.

drums beat in a frenzy
legs across the verandah
& the ocre spills over the blue...

Old Poem

2010-05-14T02:57:00.000-07:00

It’s not the birth
But the death
Of a person
That creates ripples
And you are left alone
To clear all the mess your life
has created around others
Who are living
And who might not
Want the cob web
Of your memories,
Your dreams,
And your life.
Life then perhaps seems nothing
But an empty
Age-old room
Of an old mansion,
the oldest family
In your town left
As a gift
to a dying town.

28

2010-05-02T21:25:00.000-07:00

१८ से २८ का सफ़र लम्बा होता है, इतना की हम भूलने से लगते हैं १८ का होना...बड़े होने की जल्दी में हम बदहवास भागते हैं बचपन से, और छूटता है बचपन अचानक - बिन्बताये.

माँ ने कुछ ही साल पहले एक चिट्ठी में लिखा था, "तुम में सब से अलग तुम्हारा बचपना है, हो सके तो उसे सहेज कर रखना. यकीं मानो मेरे बस में होता तो मैं तुम्हे कभी बड़ा ही नहीं होने देती." शायद माँ को बड़े होते दिख रही थी मैं, और मेरा बड़ा होना डरा था उसे. इस बीच कई मर्तभा उस चिठ्ठी को पड़ा, माँ को याद करते हुए. पर कभी भी बचपन से दूर जाना नहीं छोड़ा मैंने, बेबस थी मैं इस या उस बड़े शहर के तमाम चीजो को समटने में. पर माँ को अब भी मुझ में बचपना दीखता है...उसे मेरे कमरे के किसी कोने में संजो कर रखती है वोह. जब भी महानगर की भीड़ से अलग मैं मिलती हूँ माँ से तब दिखाती है मुझे मेरा बचपन, हमारे कस्बाई गलियों के बीच. उनमें दीखता दादी का कंचे और इमली के बीज जमा करना पूरे साल... ताकि मैं और मुझ से १३ दिन छोटा मेरा भाई उससे दुनिया बनाये गर्मी की दोपहर दादी के कमरे में. नानी घर में जेल में बुने दरी पर सोते भाई बहिन बेखबर थे बड़े होने के दुख से, मामा के नए घडी से नंबर निकाल कर खेलते और सजा खाते हम सब. पापा का motorcycle में बिठा annual डे के लिए ले जाना, जिसमें लड़का बन के डांस करती में, मेरे सबसे पुरानी सहेली के साथ....Hello in my Hands नए कपडे सिलवाए थे हमने उस annual डे के लिए...मेरे पतलून से एक रुमाल पा बहुत खुश हुई थी मैं.

माँ को पूरा दिन लग जाता बचपन की यादों की फेहरिस्त दिखाते. और इन सब के बीच मैं फिर एक दिन बड़ी होती....मन कसमसाता इन दृश्यों को देख...मेरा और माँ दोनों का...मगर दोनों बेमन से बड़ते २८-इस्वें साल की or. पापा सुबह से ही जन्मदिन की बधाई देते, याद दिलाते की कैसे अपनी माँ के जैसे मैंने भी २८ साल तक शादी नहीं की...पापा खुश थे मेरे शादी न करने से...पर झुट्लाते वोह हर बार और मेरी शादी का बेसब्री से इंतज़ार करते दीखते. बहिन जो अब कोसो दूर अपनी दुनिया बसाते झूझ रही थी, खुश होती मेरे २८ जन्मदिन की सुबह...उसकी ज़िन्दगी अब महानगरो के फासले तय करने में मशगूल है. उसका बेटा अब तीन साल का हो चला था...वोह गता happy birthday to यू और चाहता मुझे शर्ट गिफ्ट करना...वोह भी धीरे धीरे समझता बड़ा होना.

२८ का होना घर से दूर होना होता है. २८ का होना दायरों में बात करना होता है उन सबसे जिनके साथ हम गुजारते हैं अपना बच्पन. २८ का होना होता है अपना अलग जगह बनाना, जहाँ लोग आ जा सके तुम्हे तुम्हारा बचपन याद दिलाने के लिए. २८ का होना महानगर में रहना और जीना होता है. २८ का होना बहरहाल बड़ा होने सा lagta है...

Madness

2010-04-07T01:45:00.000-07:00

I am a very competitive person.
I believe in finding every opportunity & grabbing it by the head.
I believe people have to find their own paths & follow it at their own pace, no one is going to hand it over to them.
I believe, non-performers should be given their bit.
I believe non-performers know that are not performing & a bad rating or review, should not take them by surprise. If it does, then something more than what you think is wrong.
I believe hard-work with excellence makes a terrific combination for success & reward.

After having said all that, I also admit that I am getting tired of the the pressure to perform, constantly & every breathing moment of my work life. I have been one of the good performers & I believe my company takes me as one of the many assets it has working for them. But with every passing day, I am getting breathless by the mad frenzy that I am getting into to out-perform. I have always gotten things by working hard for it (just in my office context)& therefore, I know that if I stop competing & out-proving myself, success would be lost on its way to me. I have done this for the past three & a half years that I have worked, & now suddenly I feel what a heavy burden it is do continue to do so on an everyday basis. Frankly, at this point I almost feel like everyone around, including me is scrambling. It would have been easier if people followed the work they have been given but then it would almost feel like working in a govt. organization, with no one taking initiatives, no one to look up to, etc. But seriously, it almost feels like a task now, when I am lil up on the ladder to come up with something more than just my core job, as I have already covered the smaller initiatives, I could have taken in the past three years. Now, its all the more difficult to keep up the pace at which I have performed. To add to all that, I have moved to something totally new & I am still grappling with it. To even be able to think of something to improve or add to seems herculean. I wish, I was capable of taking out a cat or better even a rabbit out of my hat, cause I constantly feel that is what is expected of me. The constant stare, (may be imaginary) is making me loose my calm, & the heat only adds to the feeling.

I am jittery, I am fumbling, I am under pressure, the only thing lacking is I am not being over-worked, as I am in training. End of it all, I think I am getting burnt out & frustrated. It is not even helping taking it slow & one step at a time. I am not cribbing really about the way corporate works, I liked it up-till a point, but now, it is adding to my frustration - the constant pressure to perform. Why can't it sometimes be enough to just do a good job & the day ends happily there????

Loss

2010-04-04T21:25:00.000-07:00

What do you do, when someone you wanted to write about dies, suddenly & unannounced? When you do not even get to see them in their last few days, to ask & see all those quaint things about them, so you can etch it in your memory for the future? Do you weep, like one of the family? Or do you crush your insides in this hollow feeling you have?

I am sure you won't cry, because though you loved them, you were not necessarily were in the habit of them in your lives, or sometimes you may. It's just this empty loss you feel, like perhaps what melancholy would feel. You regret not going home for that last one time, so you could see them fighting their last battle, living the last few days, just like they used to. Going to the Pan shop & laughing with their friends, talking to the young ones of their good old days, descending down the steep path to the river for the mid noon winter dip, sitting on the ghats (river bank) bantering with friends & neighbors, applying mustard oil to their now skinny but once muscular body. It just feels like a waste that you had to stay at this mushrooming city for a ridiculous job which stopped you from visiting home. From going to that forlorn house which sat quaintly blue between the row of semi-concrete & semi-mud houses. The doors of which, opened by two tiny girls, led to a room, which felt soothing & just right after the long walk in the blazing heat of my hometown.

Last time, when for a early morning cricket frenzy, you saw him playing, he was batting with his oldest & perhaps dearest friend at the other end of the pitch. Both were friends from the times when they reveled in the heroism of their youth. But now, seeing them play at their 40 odd years was comic. At one point in the game, you saw them both taking a run, running towards the same side of the pitch. I had laughed my teen laugh with the group & he had come back to sit with us & ruffled my hair. I think he liked the fact that he had been part of the joke that made people laugh so early in the morning. Anyways, people in my hometown, go to such things only to share some happy moments with their friends, before they get consumed in their everyday life. I as a kid, used to follow my brother to these games & always wondered why are they insane enough to miss out on their morning sleep, but being an adult I understand, how important it must have been for them, while their youth had passed by, they were still holding on to images which reminded them of it.

I could perhaps write on & on about it, but it is not my pain to share, though I feel the loss equally, because anyone who wishes to write & belongs to the town I belong to, would surely have observed Sunil Chowbey, Sunil Chacha, like a child observes the wonders around, sucking in all that was him, for someday when they are able to do justice to what he was in any of the stories we are able to write...

Random Thoughts To Share...

2010-03-28T23:14:00.000-07:00

I had been procrastinating for a long time about reading Nine Lives by William Dalrymple. It is a travelogue, telling the tale of nine people who are carrying on their lives in the path of traditions that are many centuries old despite the onset of a wave of 'modernistic' living and thinking. But for me, it is more about W.D, celebrating nine people practicing their art, & though in one of the nine stories, the Stapathi clearly says, that "making idols may be a form of art for a lot of people but for us it is a way of devotion towards the almighty." I agree with the Stapathi too, in India it really is difficult to describe carving idols as someone practicing art, it would be degrading for those who do that as a form of devotion to their beloved God/Godess. But when I refer to it as 'practicing art,' I only refer to the part where centuries of practice transforms itself into skilled architects of Hindu dieties. The rest & everything around it is devotion, I believe in that. How else can someone explain the fact for generations one family continues to master it (leaving apart the politics of dominion over a form of earning a living, ofcourse). But being oblivious of politics is always a simpler & naiver way out.

But that is not what I really wanted to think aloud here. What caught my attention, was the reconfirmation of the fact that for almost all the Hindu Vedas & all Hindu philosophies, the four main goals of life are Dharma (virtuous living), Artha (material prosperity), Kama (aesthetic & erotic pleasure), & Moksha (liberation). The first three are believed to be aims of everyday life, while Moksha is the release of one from the cycle of birth & death. If these seem to be true then how & when did sex or Kama become such a taboo? I don't think it would be wrong if I argued that India pioneered the use of sexual education through art & literature. Remember Kama Sutra, written during the 1st-6th centuries :)

Infact, The Tantric school of Indic/Hindu philosophy formed at some point, during (1st & 6th centuries) the same time the KamaSutra or the Vatsyayana Kamasutra was written, and part of the philosophical system was the idea that sex, as a basic and powerful desire experienced by all humans, could be utilized as a way of achieving enlightenment. Some ardent devotees of this system for example might deliberately break sexual taboos that were ridiculed, such as extramarital sex, to master human nature and achieve greater understanding of the universe, their soul.

On the otherhand, the early Vedas had a more structured view on Kama. These mostly were moral perspectives on sexuality, marriage, & fertility prayers. Even then, nudity & sexual education or depiction of sexual postures was considered acceptable in art. Ajanta & Khajuraho temples are the living examples of the same. But this kind of lewd descriptions in art could also be debated as realistic depictions of the time & age. As in most countries with tropical climates, India being one, did not need to wear clothes, and other than for fashion, there was no practical need to cover the upper half of the body. This is supported by historical evidence, which shows that men and women in many parts of ancient India mostly dressed only the lower half of their bodies. Whilst this has changed in modern times, it is likely that taboo against nudity was not present in many Asian, African and South American civilizations.

It is mind-boggling to see how the Indian values have altered, almost to the opposite most time, so much overtime, & for me with the little reading that I could manage to get before this post, it looks like the invasion of the Mughals had only a little to do with the change, what with their Purdah system. We might think that the strict manner in which the Mughals followed the Purdah system, it might have infected the entire Indian populace, but there has been no apparent evidence that it was forced to the Hindu women. Also, the fact that Purdah did not affect men, leaves a lot to think about.

So, the only alternative, the British invasion on India with their Lords & Ladies, seems to have brought to India, ship-loads of clothing & bodice :). With the British Raj being ushered to direct rule, all Indian customs & mannerism started being ridiculed at. Victorian values stigmatized India sexual liberalism. The pluralism of Hinduism & its liberal attitudes were condemned as barbaric & the proof of inferiority of the East. The result, it led some & later some more Indians wanting to conform their religious practices and moral values to Victorian ideas of "high" civilization. There the end of free & happy sex to the invention of virginity locks :P

But that's not the end of it all, countries such as India became more conservative after being influenced by European ideas. At the same time, translations of the Kama Sutra and other 'exotic' texts became available in Europe, where they gained notorious status, and ironically may have triggered early foundations of the sexual revolution in the west. Irony as they say life is...

I know, I am stating the obvious, but it was just very fascinating to recall all this & share with all. Hope you guys have fun reading it...

Mr. Meister & The Gay Lord....What More to Say

2010-03-22T03:58:00.000-07:00

On the Meister's request, changing Mia Meister to Mr. Meister...as I do not want Meister to have images of dirty men in dirty loongis spitting pan everywhere

Mr. Meister :The Gay Lord is theorising that i am gay

Wasted :how? ping me his theory

The Gay Lord : tui staright nosh (You are not striaght)

Mr. Meister : eh?

The Gay Lord : tui eng hons keno korchilish ? (Why did you do eng honours)
str8 men study engineering, science, medicine

Mr. Meister : i love the language and writing is one thing i know i can do
ergo

The Gay Lord : commerce

Mr. Meister : and to pick up chicks

The Gay Lord : not engriji

Mr. Meister : English has the best looking chicks

The Gay Lord : so wat
u r gay

Muahahaha!!!!

Shopping

2010-03-22T03:20:00.000-07:00

Earlier in company of some of my friends, I used to shop a lot. Sometimes, way more than what I needed to. But it felt good, to hang out with friends while they or I bought stuff. Busy life never gave time otherwise, I suppose. I always get bored &/or tired of shopping within half an hour of entering a shop/mall. I think I just get bogged down by the neatly stacked rows of soothing cotton, dead & shiny synthetic, skimpy lingerie, pastel lotions, & hard & soft footwear. I would wear out after seeing five of any of these. That was my limit. My friends knew that & would sometimes tease me & sometimes indulge my boredom by hurrying through their purchase. I on the other-hand almost always did not feel comfortable buying stuff in groups. With my low tolerance, I was also a lone-shopper (if that is a word). I shopped better & quicker when alone. I hated & even today perhaps hate company when I really want to buy stuff. In a month, atleast twice, I would inadvertently trace my steps back to the crowded malls.

But all that was sometime back. Today, I just do not need to shop or buy stuff. I have perhaps not gone without buying clothes for this long ever. I like it this way. I have enough to wear & manage to look alright. I have unknowingly resolved to not buying things until & unless I really need them. But I know this too that I am allowed to slack in the decision now & then, when I just feel like. Afterall, it is not like one of those promises that cannot be broken. But I like it - not going to shopping malls. They used to make me feel tired & weary. Now, when I do go to one, I don't buy stuff mindlessly, I usually go there when I know, what I need to buy. Perhaps, I have become more like my brother in this regard. He literally window shops. If he likes something that is hung on the display, he buys, otherwise he does not.

Funny, how habits change, isn't it?

Blankness is a State of Being too...so here it is to life as blank as this

2010-03-15T11:44:00.001-07:00

M.F. Hussain & The Qatar Nationality

2010-02-26T02:41:00.000-08:00

I am perhaps not big on patriotic sentiments, but I do get teary & goose bumpy when I hear the national anthem, or the Ai mere watan ke logon, or when a Sachin scores a 200, or even when the Armed forces looses one of its heroes. But definitely, I am not patriotic enough, because I really fail to understand the reason why a painter like Hussain should have to live in exile & be a fugitive.

Perhaps, India no more celebrates art, but more keeps it in the shackles of dirty & petty politics. Even then, I guess, politics gains more keeping Hussain an Indian. They could have boasted of having one of the finest painters of modern India, who has painfully given to the world few of the best pieces of art. I guess, India could not see, what the queen of Qatar could, who commissioned him to do a series of paintings depicting Islam. It's disheartening really to see something like this happen. While we are still bragging to be the worlds biggest democracy, we could not give an artist the space to paint in his own country.

I do not claim to understand how sad/happy Mr. Hussain might be, but it really would suck for me if my parents would ask me to not come home one day, only cause I had made a mistake...really what could be worse than that.

है बातों में दम? (A Google Contest)

2010-01-20T22:43:00.000-08:00

Sharing your thoughts in Hindi on the web has never been easier! Google and LiveHindustan.com bring you the 'Hai Baaton Mein Dum?' Contest. If you've ever wished that there was more great Hindi content online, here's your chance to spill your heart out about the things that matter the most to you: entertainment, sports, travel, health and politics. Brick by brick, you'll be building the web in Hindi, sharing your knowledge of these topics and showing your flair for this beautiful language.

So, go ahead and visit the 'Hai Baaton Mein Dum?' Contest Site and click the 'Submit your entry' button next to the topic you want to write about. You stand to win some amazing prizes like laptops, gift vouchers and free internet subscriptions! There is no limit to the number of entries per contestant. Let your imagination run wild and spread the joy of sharing your thoughts in Hindi on the web!

P.S - I took the liberty to copy the content from another friend blogger - Musings.

I did it coz I wanted to spread the word to all those who read my blog too, but she put it so well, I didn't bother writing about the contest in my own words. So, thanks Musings.

Fashion Fiesta...Or Not

2010-01-20T01:07:00.000-08:00

I read somewhere that once in a while you should try doing things you are not so good at. I twisted it a bit & thought why not write a post about something that I am surely in awe of & something that always escapes my wardrobe & the way I end up looking at any time of the day/event/occasion - FASHION!

I grew up as a total tomboy, spent most of my non-school time with my brothers & their friends doing what guys play. Infact came adolescent & I even accompanied them to the the neighborhoods where the dainty divas of their respective hearts lived, about whom they pined & I listened attentively, even feigned sometimes. So, amidst playing football & getting soaked in the muck, & other such guy things, I grew up totally unaware of the one fact that had my girl-friends in frenzy. I remember them peering gleefully at magazines, figuring out in the not so great fashion magazines the dress they wanted to wear for our farewell or other socials in school. Though my home-town hardly provided you with all the brands & designs that the glossy magazines covered so well in the almost perfect model figures. My friends did what they could, ofcourse we did have great tailors with expertise in stitching whatever you asked of them. I always ended up in a stupid baggy jeans & a stupider T-shirt, which I ofcourse found really classy at that time. So, fashion was something which did not enter my dictionary till I got ticked off many a times during my +2 by my more dazzling class-mates, who hated the very earth I walked on, leave apart the clothes I wore. Even my own sister sometimes, disowned me in social gatherings, making a not so pretty face with her otherwise heavenly face, pleading me to borrow something from her wardrobe. My mom & dad had a great time during all this, I never complained on what they bought me for birthdays, & other occasions for which they thought a new dress was necessary. Infact, I gave them complete control, as I never accompanied them while they shopped for me. I was far too happy to be left alone from the heap of clothes from which I was supposed to choose one.

Came college & I was still stuck to my jeans & t-shirts. I was sent to Pune & ofcourse having the privilege of being a city close by to Mumbai, it had all its girls look so perfect. I remember the day I shifted from my local guardians house to my college hostel. My room-mates willingly came out to help me with my luggage, but all I had, I had carried it all to the room with me - a suitcase & a typical bedding role (whatever it was called). Their surprise was something I enjoyed watching :)
I almost passed the three years in Pune without many people bothering to correct me in my dressing, except for the few occasions where I got a crash course in one of the night dorms. My girl-friends adored me for the small-town things I had in me & a great friend that I always had been (brags), & the rest of the times were taken care of by books, I had discovered them right then, life was utopia for me. So many of my class-mates ignored me taking me to be some sort of a wanna be nerd or something, since I didn't really look the part, no overly sticky hair, no glasses, just the out of trend clothes...but I managed to keep a low-profile in their eyes.

Years passed post-grad happened naturally the baggy was replaced by straight-fit but yet not low-waist, the loose & over-sized t shirts got shorter & fit me. With some help of close-friends & my ex-roomie, I did manage to gather a few nice looking stuff, but yet, I failed the course majorly when it came to doing your hair, make-up, & the rest. Ofcourse work happened, the clothes got a bit better, I discovered kohl, face powder, gloss & what not, but the hair still remains limp & hung back, face still a nude. Ofcourse, my heart skips a beat when I see girls around me in office with perfectly ironed trendy clothes, out of the world pointy shoes, perfectly done face....& I wonder why couldn't I be as perfect as them for even a day?Sigh...

2010-01-13T10:57:00.001-08:00

hum to samjhe the ki bhool hum gaye hain unko...kya hua aaj, ye kis baat pe rona aaya....kis liye jite hain hum kis ke liye jite hain, barha aise sawalat pe rona...kabhi khud pe kabhi halat pe rona aaya ...kaun rota hai kisi aaur ke khatir ai dost, ba to apni hi kisi baat pe rona aaya

Knots

2009-12-04T11:27:00.000-08:00

Tied up
endlessly
entangled arms reaching out
become
short knots
that cannot breathe
that cannot be free.

Looping in
the universe
the lives
fading out
& yet the light.

Narrowing down
lanes & by-lanes
sway in your head
till they are blurred
but there is no way out.

Panic
sets in
sets out
in intervals
you choke in rhythms
disturbing music of air plays in your life...

Towering Chicago

2009-11-30T17:21:00.000-08:00

It is one hell of an experience to visit Chicago, it is a city full of ardor & vivacity. Be it then the towering buildings that intimidate you, the Michigan avenue, the clubs, or be it in the form of one of world's tallest buildings. Chicago is for high-spirited people who live tall lives :)

Though I spent just two days there, it was an experience of a lifetime. I stayed up at this friends house. Gina & her mom I can undoubtedly say are the two most kind Americans I personally know. Both of them are outrightly gorgeous & friendly. Their house just like them is this beautiful huge condo, which I could not stop admiring even for a second. I went around Chicago in the double deck trains with Gina, & experienced the Michigan-Ohio football match in one of the sizzling pubs. If anyone misses the point, Michigan-Ohio matches are like the India-Pak cricket matches, the two states hate each others guts. The pub was full of energy & I loved humming the "Go Go Blue" anthem along-with the Michigan fans. It was all in all an exciting experience to see a huge hall full in blue n yellow Michigan jerseys. Sadly, Michigan lost.

We went to Millenium Park, tried for the first time in my life Ice Skating. Gina agreed to take cool videos of me making a mess of myself in the skating ring. But to my surprise & Gina's, I did not fall off even once :) Pats self on the back. The Millenium Park is a nice park for people to come have picnics/lunches outside of the tall buildings they work/live in.

The Sear's now Willis tower was an experience in its own. I really have no words to describe how you feel on top of 110 stories, you need to be there to experience it. The view from the top was mesmerizing & worth the snake like lines that we stood for to get the entrance tickets.

Overall Chicago was worth the hassle that I got into with the airlines people later on. Of all, my most fondest memories would be of Gina & her mother's hospitality. I really wish they come down to India sometime for me to show them the same :)

Week 1 Closure - Highlight The Detroit Red Wings Game

2009-11-13T15:43:00.000-08:00

The week really was busy. My calender looked perhaps more full than Larry or Sergei's for this week. Had some very useful sessions & met some very great people, who are willing to help you for anything. Learnt a lot, discussed a lot, roamed around a bit as the nights are really getting chilly here & we don't leave the office before night.

I had the chance to walk across the Diag - the hub area of the university of Michigan which is four blocks away from my office building. A colleague Michael gave me a quick walk across it. There is biggish M on the ground & they believe that if a student walks on it before they graduate they surely fail. Nice! I would again supplement with pics later.

Came Thursday & the team was all geared about the Detroit Red Wings V/S Vancouver Ice hockey game. I love the whole atmosphere, the verve, it was out of the world to see so many people going crazy about their home team. I also saw the Stanley Cup, sadly my batter died & I couldn't take any of its pictures. The game was really exciting the Red Wings won, & yes I did get to see the between match crazy fights :). My team was considerate enough to put in a welcome message for me on the Score board in between the game. I was so thrilled to see it, thanks a ton guys. It was a fun thing, just like in the movies. I loved it.

I loved the entire experience. It's Friday late evening & I went for a lone walk to the university campus to get a feel of the evening feel of the city. I must say, I love the city in the mornings, in the afternoon, & the evenings. It's picturesque, pretty, & cozy. Love it absolutely. Will give other updates later.

Long Flight, Frankfurters, Jet Lag, & First Day In America

2009-11-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

After an 25 hour excruciating flight from Hyd-Frankfurt-Detroit, we finally reached Ann Arbor. The flight from Hyd was not so much of a pain as the FRK-DET flight. The latter was long, boring, & during the day. To avoid bad jet lag I even avoided alcohol & sleep during the flight. Kept myself to loads of water & all the movies that Lufthansa carefully (pun intended) chose for its passengers. I watched almost all of them, even a Hindi movie, never heard of before with actors not known, called Jasna. The frankfurt airport was boring, as it did not have a lot to do, I sure ate Frankfurters there. Though they were a bit of a disappointment too. Everything was so costly that we stuck to eating & drinking only. I am planning to buy some souvenirs on my way back, as Germany unlike some countries does have a lot of history for cool souvenirs.

Reaching Ann Arbor was a relief. The hotel was good, the weather better. My first day passed by pretty easy & quickly in A2. After shifting from the hotel to the apartment (which is really cute), I went to our Google office. After a whole lot of meeting & greeting & gift sharing, I was finally at my desk. After that the day went past with me sleep-walking in it. I just realized how bad the Jet lag had gotten me. Inspite of all the work & lag, I did not fail to notice how awesomely beautiful the city is. The leaves are all colors & have started falling as winter sets in. Infact, it is not so cold as it is expected to be around this time of the year. They are having something what they call the Indian Summer, where the temperature drops after a couple of warm days. I am sure they would stop calling it that once they actually experience the India summer. Afterthought, it might be the native america 'indian' they might be referring to.

In the night, our team went out for a typically American pastime, which involves Chicken Wings loads of them, A tall glass of beer, & a game of trivia. It's a game where most obscure questions are asked about American history, current issues, sports, etc. I would have loved the evening better had I been a little less jet-lagged & tired. I was so down to the dumps that I even forgot to take pictures of the nice bar that we went to or even the name of the place.

People at work are awesome & really helpful. They were psyched about the gifts we got them. Pata paintings from Orissa. The office is really bright & cozy. The town even more cozier. I hope to explore more of it soon.

P.S - Would follow up with pics on later posts.

Once In Love Always in Love

2009-11-04T00:22:00.000-08:00

I wanted to make a post about how I am done with all my preparations for my Michigan trip where the temperature is sub-zeros around this time of the year. I wanted to write about how Ma painfully got all my woolens out & got them washed with EZ, as being in Hyd one never gets to wear them so they had been lazily sitting under my box-bed. How she helped me pick up the best thermals, woolen socks, & everything else that was required. How she finished packing all the stuff that I am going to take & also the ones which I am not into two different suitcases. I would be gone for 6 weeks & she does not want dust to settle on the ones I am leaving behind. Mothers indeed are elaborately loving :) With two more days before I leave, I am getting a little nervous about travelling to the US with no assistance whatsoever, but I am sure its going to be a good & fun adventure. Amen! to that & moving to what I titled this post about, though again I think I have lost interest on that as well :O

But instead, I wandered off to another blog & read some stuff on being in love & loosing the one you loved. I sure have been at both the ends so I know how it is, or at least so I think. I have lost a lot of people I loved to death, but never lost anyone I was romantically attached to another person or never had a break-up which was never initiated by me. So, I perhaps do not understand it in that respect. Somehow, when we talk about love the only angle that people assume it to be is the romantic. So, let me play to the gallery & talk about the Love that is popular. Love as many of us say is often used in a very random manner...

Ok this got discontinued there, had a meeting for an hour, went to Shilparamam, & then lunch. So, knowing my mood swings, I am out of the mood & will end this abruptly here :(

Mera Shahar

2009-10-30T03:54:00.000-07:00

नींद से कहीं दूर
मिलती थी वोह
अकेले, चुप-चाप.

इस बार का बादल पिला नहीं
लाल होगा
कहा था
रात के अँधेरे में.

मेरा शहर झलकता हर बार
उसकी अधखुली आँखों से
नींद में चौंधियाये
और भी अच्छे लगते
हलके भूरे.

सुनहली धूप चमचमाती
नदी की चादर
अक्सर ओढ़ती,
बुदबुदाती मंत्र.
और फिर गुम हो जाती
अनंत के सफ़र में.

मेरा शहर लौटता
दबे पाव, पिछले आंगन में.

शहर से बहुत दूर
होती शहर की बातचीत
उसमें बीतता बचपन और बुढापा
कभी माँ दीखती टहलती पहचाने रास्तों में
कभी सीमा अब अपने बच्चों को स्कूल भेजती.

इतने दूर से आवाज़
नहीं पहुचती थी
घर के काई लगे आँगन में.
माँ कैसे बुनेगी गीत सोहर के?
कैसे कहेगी किस्से?
गाएगी वोह सरे गीत जो भेजती हूँ
मैं इस सुदूर शहर से...

2009-10-30T02:52:00.001-07:00

The first key to writing is to write & not to think. Sometimes the simple rythm of typing gets us from page 1 to page 2, & when you begin to feel your own words, start typing them. That's how your novel begins...

Something Interesting

2009-10-29T22:23:00.000-07:00

'Fat clubs' thriving in America

American nightclubs catering specifically for fat people are proving a hit with plus-sized partygoers looking for acceptance.

Club Bounce in Long Beach, California. The club is specifically aimed at attracting overweight individuals Photo: AP

Venues like Club Bounce and The Butterfly Lounge in California are aimed at people who may be made to feel unwelcome at certain fashionable nightspots because of their size.

Such clubs are a relatively new development, with a handful scattered across California, mainly in coastal cities such as San Diego and San Francisco.

She said: "I don't think fat is a bad word any more. I think a lot of people embrace it now.Lisa Marie Garbo, who opened Club Bounce five years ago, said she did it for herself and others who were tired of being "the only fat girl at the local nightclub".

"I'm not a gain-weight advocate or anything like that. My message to people is live your life no matter what size you are."

Club Bounce, with a capacity of 400, attracts relatively equal numbers of men and women. However, while about three-quarters of the women tend to be heavy, only a quarter of the men are.

The existence of such venues has raised healthquestions in a country where, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, one-third of adults are already obese.

But Lynn McAfe, of the Council On Size and Weight Discrimination, said: "It's nice to have a place to go where you can do a little flirting and maybe bring your thin sister or somebody from work who isn't fat, and they'll be in your world for a while."

"That's an amazing experience for a lot of people who aren't fat, to spend a day or night in a world of fat people."

Vanessa Gray, a Club Bounce customer, added: "When you're not what they consider ideal and you're out there trying to get your dance on at those other places, you get the looks, the stares. But not here. Everything's accepted here."

2009-10-27T21:46:00.001-07:00

I took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!""Has a strong desire to contribute and influence o..."
Click here to read the rest of the results.

Unbelievable If This Is True

2009-10-27T20:48:00.000-07:00

Unable to attract even a single girl, frustrated man sues Axe

New Delhi. In what could prove to be a major marketing and legal embarrassment for Hindustan Unilever Limited (HUL), a 26-year-old man has filed a case against the FMCG company, which owns the Axe brand of men grooming products, for ‘cheating’ and causing him ‘mental suffering’. The plaintiff has cited his failure to attract any girl at all even though he’s been using Axe products for over seven years now. Axe advertisements suggest that the products help men in instantly attracting women.

Vaibhav Bedi, the petitioner, also surrendered all his used, unused and half-used deodorant sprays, perfume sticks and roll-ons, anti-perspirants, aftershaves, body washes, shampoos, and hair gels to the court, and demanded a laboratory test of the products and narcotics test of the brand managers of Axe. Vaibhav was pushed to take this step when his bai (maid) beat him with a broom when he tried to impress her by appearing naked in front of her after applying all the Axe products.

No girl ever asked Vaibhav to call her

“Where the Hell is Axe effect? I’ve been waiting for it for over seven years. Right from my college to now in my office, no girl ever agreed to even go out for a tea or coffee with me, even though I’m sure they could smell my perfumes, deodorants and aftershaves. I always applied them in abundance to make sure the girls get turned on as they show in the television. Finally I thought I’d try to impress my lonely bai who had an ugly fight with her husband and was living alone for over a year. Axe effect my foot!” Vaibhav expressed his unhappiness.

Vaibhav claims that he had been using all the Axe products as per the company’s instructions even since he first bought them. He argued that if he couldn’t experience the Axe effect despite using the products as directed, either the company was making false claims or selling fake products.

“I had always stored them in cool and dry place, and kept them away from direct light or heat. I’d always use a ruler before applying the spray and make sure that the distance between the nozzle and my armpit was at least 15 centimeters. I’d do everything they told. I even beat up my 5-year-old nephew for coming near my closet, as they had instructed it to keep away from children’s reach. And yet, all I get is a broom beating from my ugly bai.” Vaibhav expressed his frustration.

Vaibhav claims that he had to do go a lot of mental suffering and public humiliation due to the lack of Axe effect and wants HUL to compensate him for this agony. An advocate in Karkardooma court, who happened to mistake Vaibhav for some deodorant vendor when he entered the court premises with all the bottles, has now offered to take up his case in the court. HUL has been served a legal notice in this regard.

HUL has officially declined to comment on the case citing the subject to be sub judice, but our sources inform that the company was worried over the possible outcomes of the case. The company might argue that Vaibhav was hopelessly unattractive and unintelligent and didn’t possess the bare minimum requirements for the Axe effect to take place. Officially HUL has not issued any statement, but legal experts believe that HUL could have tough time convincing the court.

“HUL might be tempted to take that line of argument, but it is very risky. There is no data to substantiate the supposition that unattractive and unintelligent men don’t attract women. In fact some of the best looking women have been known to marry and date absolutely ghoulish guys. I’d suggest that the company settles this issue out of court.” noted lawyer Ram Jhoothmalani said.

I Like Somerset Maugham

2009-10-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

As always, I caught up late with Maugham. Had read a very few short stories earlier when KT & Roshni's enthusiasm for Maugham had made me curious & they insisted on me reading them. But had dropped the thick book out of tediousness on my part rather than the stories being uniteresting. That was almost 2 years back. Since then had been planning on buying his books.

I think last month on a sudden book shopping spree with the Meister went to Walden and bought a couple of Maughm. Have finished reading Cakes & Ales (the book by which Maughm wanted to be remembered) & The Moon & Sixpence. Loved Cakes & Ales but I am mesmerized by The Moon & Sixpence. Its one of the best books I have read. The narrative is explicitly simple that you fall in love with it. The book is very Maughm with his matter of fact narration & his sardonic sentences. His wit is unabashed & his style un-compared. The Moon & Sixpence is a fragmentary documentation inspired by the life of Paul Gauguin (leading post impressionist painter) who was believed to have left his wife & children on a mere whim that he wanted to paint, at a time when he knew hardly how to hold a paint brush. The way Maughm describes the protagonist Charles Strickland, drawing from Paul Gauguin's personality, is exquisite & grand. He lingers on the most annoying of Gauguin's characteristics but without any hint of moral or social judgement (atleast I could not find any) and yet makes the readers like him. He intervenes as the author when he has something more than Strickland to talk about, his notes, his observations, or even to mention why he chose a particular way of telling the facts he had about Ganguin. His narrative has a very objective POV, but at the same time we know he is empathizing and understanding Gauguin's peculiar ways.

I have read a couple more documented biographies, even Marquez's 'Clandestine in Chile' written on similar lines, but Maugham style in The Moon & Sixpence is un-believable. I am completely in love with the book & would recommend it to anyone without blinking once. Some excerpts from the book below which might not show all that I wrote above but these are lines which struck home...

"There is no cruelty greater than a woman's to a man who loves her & whom she does not love; she has no kindness then, no tolerance even, she has only an insane irritation."

There were a lot more that I wanted to give here from the book, but being in office without the book makes it a little difficult. Would do it later when I re-read the book at leisure & mark some lines to share.

My manager beckons us for a team-meeting now...will continue later.

P.S.- The flow if broken can't come back after some exciting news at work-front. Back from the meeting - It was just announced that I would be travelling to the US next month for 5-6 weeks :) what fun!!!

Past

2009-09-25T12:24:00.001-07:00

The best thing about a past relationship that dazzles or rather entertains you in the present is that you always reminiscence the best things about it, the classic romance & its high feel, the never-ending walks you had, etc., and the rest is a blank. This perhaps puts the present relationship in not so much a good light, as you are still coping with the traumas an existing relationship brings with it. Sadly, we all need to grind our teeth and put up a smile and bear it and if you want wait for a time when the tables turn. This for sure is the best way to handle a situation of the past.

Bhakti...Love...& My Grandma

2009-08-31T01:27:00.000-07:00

I was talking to serendipiduous about me and he mentioned two things which struck out -

1. I have a very masculine view of life

2. I am blindly/unconditionally in love with KT, which he finds inspirational.

About the first point, perhaps I will talk in a separate blog.

About the fact about blind love for KT, again I will talk about in a new post. Infact, I would ask KT to make a post about it too, or better we could do a post together. Because, amongst my very close friends in Hyd, I have known a lot of people who adore the fact that we have stuck with each other so long and love seeing us that way...and a few others who pretend they like it but abhor it at heart.

About the second again, somehow while talking to serendipiduous, I was reminded of mymama (a word for grandmother in oriya/chattisgarhi) when he said he might never know what love is.

She is somewhere between 80-90 years old and still insists on following all the rituals that her body allows her. Being the one, who used to accompany her to temples and the one who read out the Bhagvad Gita, The Krishna Puran, The Mahabharat, The Ramayana, while she could not read it herself, I generally have had a lot of time to talk to her about religion, rituals, and all the fasts she keeps, etc. Obviously enough, seeing her old and struggle through all her rituals and fasts, I have advised her innumerable times to skip them and take care of her health instead. That there is no need for such rituals and sometimes even tried to push my half-modern, half-formed views of atheism or better say lack of religious rituals or religion that I try to follow. She always resisted my attempts saying, it is important for her to do all those things, that Bhakti is the state that she wanted to attain, that is the only thing keeping her going at her age. It was hard for me to understand what she really meant by Bhakti. For my ignorant mind Bhakti most often than not translates to being religious and for me my grandma was infact very religious. Epitome perhaps.

Last time when I visited home, she wasn't keeping that well, so I spent a lot of my late morning hours with her helping her with her pooja and other stuff. Once, while I was reading out the Geeta to her, she asked me if I really understood what she meant by Bhakti. It was no use showing my malformed intelligence to her, she would have seen through it in a jiffy. So, I just nodded my head for a no, perplexed at having her read my mind. She very nicely explained, Bhakti was devotion, complete submission of the self, unconditional love....and many more synonyms followed. She said, when me and all my cousins were kids, she saw un-comparable bhakti in each of us, bhakti for our parents & grandparents, bhakti for our teachers, bhakti for our older siblings/cousins. And curious enough, I asked, doesn't she see it in us now? She didn't answer that directly, but instead said bhakti can be attained only by simplicity and you need a simple heart, mind, and soul for it. Fair enough, I thought.

While writing all this, I was visualizing mama in her bade bhittar (chattisgarhi for big inner room) with the new fan, I replaced this time I was home, making slow circles over her head, she staring at it, perhaps thinking about all her clan, about her childhood, waiting for one of us, one of her grandchildrens to return home, packing some of the goodies she always has hidden for us. Its funny, but she remembers how each one of us is fond of a particular delicacy only she makes and would bring it out from her wooden almirah, when we go to meet her even today. For me it was always, the sweet n sour aam papda she makes during summers :)

2009-08-05T03:54:00.000-07:00

A plea,
a soft murmer
and a silence.
Your fingers tap
the rythm,
of my death
on a rosary
I panic
I cry
yet finally
I die-
I meet you in snow
and smile
a dying
yet so living a smile.

Smiles disappear

at times when I die

and reappear again with

a timeless birth.

Haunted pasts

flash

not like memories

but something more

alive and vivid.

Life told stories

and sang songs

when alive

now when dead

will it retell the same stories

of a yellow verandah

and chillies strewn

over the concrete tiled floor

A Song That Haunted me For Most Of This Weekend

2009-08-02T21:58:00.000-07:00

aaj kal mein dhal gayaa, din huaa tamaam
tu bhi so jaa, so gayi, rang bhari shaam
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa, din huaa tamaam
tu bhi so jaa, so gayi, rang bhari shaam
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa

so gayaa chaman chaman, so gayi kali-kali
so gaye hain sab nagar, so gayi gali-gali
so gayaa chaman chaman, so gayi kali-kali
so gaye hain sab nagar, so gayi gali-gali
neend kah rahi hai chal, merii baanhe thaam,
tu bhi so jaa, so gayi, rang bhari shaam
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa

hai bujhaa-bujhaa sa dil, bojh saans-saans par
jee rahe hain phir bhi ham, sirf kal ki aas par
hai bujhaa-bujhaa sa dil, bojh saans-saans par
jee rahe hain phir bhi ham, sirf kal ki aas par
kah rahi hai chaandni, leke teraa naam,
tu bhi so jaa, so gayi, rang bhari shaam
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa

kaun aayegaa idhar, kiski raah dekhen ham
jinki aahten suni, jaane kiske the kadam
kaun aayegaa idhar, kiski raah dekhen ham
jinki aahten suni, jaane kiske the kadam

apnaa koi bhi nahin, apne hain to Raam,
tu bhi so jaa, so gayi, rang bhari shaam
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa
aaj kal mein dhal gayaa, din huaa tamaam

An amazing song from the movie Beti Bete, sung by Rafi & Lata. A must listen to all those who like Lata & Rafi and music in general. I sang/hummed this song on fiday night & saturday morning only to forget it for another 8-10 hours and remembered it on late saturday night. Posting it in here for future times when I have a blackout again and don't spend excruciating hours trying to remember it. Just heard the song five times and hoping many more rounds of it.

Collage Of Blog titles I came Across

2009-07-29T01:37:00.000-07:00

Closure! oh! my poor poor sun While I have nothing To Write About

today I am in a mood to cry This explains a lot doesn't it the corrupt soul and i am Foocking dead

The Unknown Chronicles...We Shall Rebel Untitled

SILENT TEAR do you remember me?

2 of Us uptide and low tide, Sunshine Soul!, Achievement Unlocked

MY BEST Red-faced FIGHT!

Explicit Introduction

Lyrics - Poet and Guitar Project & Learning English

Caricatures for Deutsche Bank employees

Has the moon turned blue ??!!

Let Me Be

Each line is the title of more than one blog post...but it almost looks to me they went together. Am I delirious or is it true that it looks like they belong to each other?

While I have nothing To Write About.

2009-07-26T23:18:00.000-07:00

While I have nothing to write about and I have been away from blogging for a while, I thought it best to make my presence felt by sharing few of my Fav Eddie Izzard's videos:

Do You Have A Flag? Cake Or Death?

Techno Fear: Part 1

Supermarket Psychology

Languages

Handshakes & Looking Cool

Machines That Lie

How To Choose A Martial Arts

I have been an Izzard fan for a while now, got to hear about him from a friend and since then have been hooked on and off. Its a must watch for all of you who like stand up comedian artists. Have fun Watching them.

About the Stupidest Post

2009-07-02T22:30:00.000-07:00

After having taken my time to sort things in my own little head, I realize the post where I went on and on about ranting "how hurt and crushed I was...blah blah blah..." was the stupidest thing, I could have done. My bad, I really take back everything I said. It was an emotional moment and I slipped. I only pity that I did that. Its no excuse yet, I feel better having said that.

I am done and over with the drama about the whole thing. I hope, I can move on now. First thing towards moving on is I am going on this wonderful trip with my best friend ever to Goa...really really excited and looking forward to it. I realize, I should just stick to my 'triumphant trio' for friends and things work out just fine for me. No mis-understanding, no kich kich...nothing stupid. Anyways, I am too much of an "insensitive person" for a lot of people around me and have heard it from all of them. Many rather most of you might call my recoiling back to my childhood friends as a defense thingy, but I really don't care. Life is too complicated, so why bother fucking it up more yourself. And anyways, I feel comfortable about saying/doing anything I feel like in front of them.

Yippie so back to being excited about going to Goa. Will post about the trip once I am back from it. Hope to do some water sports and pacify the jealous me. I was so so so J when I heard about the Meister's parasailing experience. So, I am sure I am gonna do it this time.

Nothing more for now.

Happy Birthday Ma

2009-07-02T22:22:00.000-07:00

She completes 60 today. I only wish, I could be 20% as good a human being that she is. I have said it n number of times and I will say it again, she is the strongest person, I have ever seen in my lifetime. I think anything more would be a waste, cause nothing I can say will be even close to describing her.

Happy Birthday Ma!

2009-06-28T21:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know what to say really. I am so so hurt, sad, frustrated, angry...so much that the inside of my heart aches with the heaviness. Just day before, I was crying my heart out to this friend of mine and he kept saying I need to stop caring for people and things who don't see my love for them and today I read what I do. It's not the first time really that it was put so harshly across, I had heard it all before from the Meister, and perhaps from many stares, all those whose minds had been filled with the talk. But yet I believed that it would work out fine...once sometime had passed I would go back to sort things out and it would work. But perhaps for the first time today, it's stark on my face that it would not.

If only hating was as easy for me as loving is, I might too have opted for it and gone ahead with making hate posts and doing the hate talk. I know I am not at all expressive with what I feel but I never felt it was that important, so much so that not expressing it everyday translated to hate or envy. Such a foolish incident where I had let my guards down for a while could change so much, I never ever thought in my dreams.

Nonetheless, I do not blame, and I do so very selfishly. Doing that would only take away someting from the best I have in my heart, the memories, the connection that believed was special inspite of the odds. Infact so much so that I tried for two god damned years to fucking fit in, going totally against what I am to be what it might fucking take, but that didn't help did it? Do I wish to re-concile? I don't know really, if that could happen ever...but I swear on anything that I can that I no longer would make another girl friend, because when that ends it really hurts the worst. I could go on and on, but I would burst out crying if I wrote anything more.

KOHL All The Way!

2009-06-24T21:16:00.000-07:00

Amidst a lot of drum rolls and trumpets, I announce to all and sundry "I finished one stick of kohl on my own."

Amazed faces? expected. Dissatisfied grunts, expected again. Loads of 'what the hells & hecks, EXPECTED! Try not being shocked and participating in my achievement, coz that really is not expected of anyone in this whole wide world.

I know, it is hardly a thing to perhaps finish a stick of kohl in a span of a year and more. But if you know me as a person, you exactly know how BIG a deal it is for me. I always have to give away or throw any cosmetic that I buy or have, cause I cannot even finish them half and the expiry thingy is over and they all find their smooth and dull ride to my dustbin. Sigh! isn't it. So, now can I expect some 'great job,' 'congratulation,' 'way to go girl,' and 'wishing you a life full of complete costmetic usage...'

I am typical tomboy when it comes to getting decked up and all and only started using make-up as late as say post my post-grad?? And even today, I can't spend even 5 minutes on a regular basis. Also, that everytime I had to throw away stuff, I had this urge to finish one of these thingies totally and then see how it feels to throw away stuff when its used to its potential ;)

Looking forward to buying a new one...Revlon it might be this time, as I heard they have real good kohl sticks ;)

I Kept Thinking After The Anonymous Comment...

2009-06-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

In my post titled 'Back In Hyd,' someone anonymously commented "I haven't seen a girl bursting at seams with so many feelings for so many people," and I wonder how many other such things are not expected out of girls. I do not at all blame Mr/Ms anonymous for feeling the way s/he did, so please do not go explaining yourself, I already understand. It's just that we all are conditioned and cultured so well in this whole dichotomy of Girls and Guys that it is only natural of us to behave the way we do, expecting a girl to behave in a particular way and a guy in another. If anyone disobeys, we tend towards judging them, thus making life worth living, I suppose. After all, years of marination in the (popularly called) Indian ethics, culture, and values, can't go waste.

Very frankly, I don't see the point personally in not saying or writing the way you feel, as not saying it won't change a thing for the way you feel. I also do not see a point in stopping yourself from feeling a particular thing, cause anyways you have thought about it. I do not even see a foocking (as the meister puts it) point in then limiting the way a girl/guy is supposed to behave and react to things differently. I am sure all of us have gone through this forward that came a long time back, trying to highlight how biased our education system is. The forward was about this Hindi poem that is taught in the pre-primary or primary schools, it went something like this...

Ram uth, school jaa

Sita uth, pani bhar

Ram padhai kar

Sita roti bana....

I am not too sure about how it really was, but the essence was how we teach kids as young as 4-5 to acquire behaviors which perhaps might not come naturally to them. Just thinking, what would happen, if kids are not taught consciously or sub-consciously to behave as a girl or guy...would they behave more naturally or differently. I know, many who do not de-construct a given fact think all this as bull-shit and are completely aganist this line of thought. But where is really the harm in thinking??

P.S. - I am most certain that I am the most confused person you will ever come across.

A Nice Pic I Came Across

2009-06-21T21:02:00.000-07:00

Words can perhaps only take away something that is so beautiful about this pic. So, I would leave it at this.

Back In Hyd

2009-06-18T03:14:00.000-07:00

I am back from a longish vacation. Went to a lot of places - Mumbai, Bhopal, Raigarh, Raipur, Nagpur and back today. Loved every bit of the 18 days I was off...except for the train journey from Nagpur to Hyd. It was the worst thing that perhaps has happened to me and the Meister...though the Meister would call his stay in Nagpur the worst. The train was so damn hot with the pantry being just next to our sleeper coach, we kept getting spicy and hot wiffs of everything that was being cooked.

The journey to Mumbai was great. I spent a day there with Sam and made him spend a lot of money on me (out of his own wish, no force was applied). He is the best thing that happened to me in my class 3 and he continues to rock till today. I infact secretly loved him in my school years and the feeling keeps haunting me back on and off. From there we took a train to Bhopal, had loads of fun with Sam, who got lost in trying to understand what and why we feel the way we do for each other. I as usual made numerous faux pas when I kept passing comments on this guy, only to realize he was also going to Bhopal to attend the same wedding as us and from the guys side. Realized it only when we reached Bhopal and the groom came to pick him up :O

Bhopal was a different story altogether...with the wedding and work and all. Sam and me being the great friends that we are :) as always saved Priks ass. Won't mention the details of that here. Its too long a story. Apart from that, it was overall a very emotional experience, as seeing Priks getting married is as good as me getting married.

Post all the wedding work and all I was back in Raigarh. The heaven for me and many like me. Had the most amazing 15 days there, as many of my cousins had luckily took leave during the same time. So, partied harder than ever and spent loads of time together, going any and everywhere we could. I also got a lot of repair work done at home and made my parents proud of their daughter. Overall, it was a fulfilling trip to Raigarh, though everyone in my family took time out to explain to me how important it was for me to get married by end of this year and asked me to look for other greener (i believe) pastures if KT and his family are not ready for marriage by end of feb 2010. So, almost everyday, I had a 1:1 with someone or the other in my family.

Sam being Sam, came all the way back to Raigarh for two days to meet his mom and attend to some family matter and I believe ofcourse for me :). We took the train together from Raigarh while leaving, and so it was a little less painful for me. We as always, never slept and spoke almost till 5 in the morning. One of our co-passengers asked us to keep quite and sleep and so we had to move to neat the door, as our conversation just never ended. We discussed any and everything under the sun...which also included how both our families want us to get married to each other...something very convinient for them, as they have seen us since our childhood and would love to see us married. Though Sam has a GF and I have KT, though both of us still love each other equally....Bachpan Ka Pyaar and all that jazz ;)

After a very long night, I got off at Nagpur and Sam went to Mumbai. Nagpur was a tragic affair as it was so so so damn hot, that the Meister and myself almost started melting. The trian ride as I mentioned was even more horrible, but I troubled the Meister taking a lot of relationship advice and sharing my doubts and concerns. The dude inspite of never having been in a relationship still gives very sound advice and I really respect him for that.

After, being baked in the horrendous train for 10 hours was back in lovely Hyd at around 4:30 am and now back at work with my eyelids refusing to open as I have completed a marathon of three sleepless nights in a strech in all the exhaustion. Kudos, I say to myself.

Proud of my Dad!

2009-05-24T23:34:00.000-07:00

I know, its kindda a redundant statement to make, everyone is proud of their Dad's, unless he is really not worth it.

My dad finally launched his English weekly on the 21st May with the best reception any newspaper has got in our town. We have had a small printing house back at home, and since my grandfather's time we have this evening daily newspaper in hindi - Bayar. I always had heard my papa wishing and dreaming to start an English newspaper, but due to monitary issues, career concerns, and other family responsibilites he never could. But I am so happy that finally his dream came true. It's remarkable to see him at 59 and still having the strength to go achieve his dreams. I am so so so proud of him. It's a weekly English newspaper cum magazine with only 8 pages as of now...that too of a little smaller size than the normal biggish newspapers.

In his speech in the lauch ceremony, he requested the city folks, "to not judge the newspaper by the size of it, as it is smaller, but said its an initial effort and would expand in terms of pages." He later added why he chose the size, "I decided to keep the size small, as in her growing up years, when I was trying to cultivate the habit of newspaper reading in my younger daughter, she used to come up with this wierd but practical excuse saying the newspaper was too big for her small hands, and it was such a pain to keep folding and opening it. So, this is for my daughter and a lot of such people who find it cumbersome to read large newspapers."

When I got to know about it, I actually remembered the painful mornings when my Dad used to ask me and my sister to read newspapers. I found it really a task to go through this ugly sheets. I am so happy, my Dad kept this in mind while coming up with his newspaper. I only and only wish that it is a success and Papa can achieve everything he has dreamed off. I really have no words to explain how happy, content, and proud I felt on the 21st evening.

Scribbles - 1

2009-05-19T22:45:00.000-07:00

Images float

at the back of my hut

and I still dare not dream

of the nights and days

that could have been.

We never could finish sentences in rhymes

nor could we repeat lines and couplets

but we used strokes and splashes

of colors and winter afternoons

like a tribal frenzy.

In the moonlit night

fire, stories, and songs

could anything else fit better in a story?

We never had answers or questions

like rocks

What we had

slipped

like sand

from our thin long fingers

and some got stuck

in the crevices

and Dahlia would clean them

with her soft and melancholic hands

There were so many of those

hands

rough, soft, a dark brown, a sickly yellow, shiny palms

but they all loved us and fed us

those summer nights

the same hands would ruffle our hair and make us sleep

My neighbour,

in her tattered slippers

and me with none

would run across to the other house

the bluish-purple berries

staining our cotton frocks

Yellow and Green afternoons

extended like

ghosts

and Ended.

The river sang Songs,

and we played Hopscotch,

we believed we entertained.

Golden Sqaures where people

scratched their old and wrinkled knees

Did they watch

Others wishing to live lives of the

Kings & Queens in a pack of cards

Or Did they await death?

So much and many more

beautiful things of our childhood could perhaps

and write itself beautifully on our graves...

2009-05-15T05:22:00.001-07:00

Had a new hairdo which cost me a bomb...debated a long while whether or not I could take such a lavish plunge when people everywhere are dying of hunger. Somehow, convinced myself of it and went ahead. Still feel extremely guilty for having splurged...perhaps it is a small town girl thing which I will never get over. Extravaganza never sits well with my conscience. That apart, the other effect of having spent the sum was sleek and sexy hair...hated it for the first few days but like it now and it gives me a more simple and sleek look somehow.

Started going to the gym again with a new friend made in office. She is pretty simple and nice, so its fun hanging out with her. Both of us have a blast at the gym, and try to shed a few fat flabs that we have.

Worked really hard on a great project at work...and was able to create a very grown up reporting for my team with a lot of graphs, numbers, and pivots :) It is a huge deal for me becuase I never was a number and graph person...

That's how the week was I guess.

The First Few Sketches & Paintings I Did

2009-05-07T21:05:00.001-07:00

This birthday, the Meister recognizing my potential with the visual arts gifted me a grand set of poster colors, brushes, and a color palette. Thanks a ton to him, I now have a great way to utilize my time and learn something new. The sketch I did seeing it from one of the sketch books I bought for myself trying to learn how to sketch. I am so proud of myself that I did these, back at school I could not even draw a straight line or a good enough circle. I was really pathetic. I know, these are nothing great, but they give me hope that perhaps with more practise, I could realize one of my dream of painting and sketching good someday.

Missed My Train :(

2009-04-27T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have this recurring dream (though I see it in very long intervals of months or even years) where I miss a train in a particular station which is quite close by my hometown, usually it is Champa (a small town in Chattisgarh which sells very good samosaas, btw) some other times it is Jharsugda (another very small town in Orrissa, we relish the Chenapura from there).

It always happens the very same way in my dream, while my train is entering the station I think to myself that ok this is a station with a comparatively longer stopage but not long enough that I go out of the station to buy some wierd stuff or meet friends living in the city or I will miss the train. I also suddenly see sequences where I am interacting with my fellow passengers to whom I have been aloof all this while. The train finally stops, I get down, and straight walk out of the station, outside I am either in my old school, or college hostel, or any place which could not logically have been there. By the time I am back at the station, I can see the tail of the train smoothly gliding from the far end of the station. Sometime, I even run behind it and only once have I been able to catch it. Last night, in the dream, I asked an auto wala to take me to a nearest station so that I can catch the train there and we had an adventurous journey till the next station and I am able to catch the train.

Another, recurrent dream is I am in a place where the airport and the railway station are next to each other and I always go to the railway station thinking it to be the airport and this sentry has to direct me back to the right place. On reaching the airport, I always have lost my flight ticket and have to go to this glass counter where I need to talk to the concerned guy and convince him to give me a new copy of the same ticket looking for my name in their database. Having done that, I manage to just reach on time and then I dream of different things while I am in the aircraft.

Actually, come to think of it since childhood I have had a couple of such dreams which I keep coming back to time and again. I really really wish I could have their interpretations sometime.

Planted My Plants :)

2009-04-26T21:44:00.000-07:00

In my last post I had mentioned about the initiatives our office took and is planning on taking on/for Earth day. As part of one of those initiatives indoor plants were distributed to all those who wanted them. Since, very few people showed interest, instead of one I got three plants to take home with me :)Since, all this was in the middle of the week, I did not get the time to buy pots and had to keep them in the mud sack they came in for almost two days.

Saturday came in with a beautiful weather and a brother who kept calling and did not let me sleep in the afternoon arrrgh. With nothing much to do, I went out to buy pots for my pretty plants and got three prettiest pots possible (those ceramic ones, with very bright paintings on them). Then went to this street-side nursery to buy mud to fill the pots with...the auto guy was really really nice and helped me unload and carry the mud filled heavy pots to my apartment and did not even ask for extra money for all the waiting and carrying. In my house with the beautiful pots, I did all the cleaning, digging, and planting. It was quite a task to not harm the plants while taking them out of their sacks. I cleant and watered the plants and the pot and placed them in three corners in my living room. The fresh wet green of the plant and the shiny blue, brown, yellow paints of the ceramic make my whole room look so neat and lively. I love it.

Since the time, I planted them - me and my roommate have been oggling at the plants and trying to see if we need to water them or shift them here and there :)We almost are getting too attached to them in just two days. So, for anyone who needs a very nice hobby and wants to make their living room a little more pretty -Go ahead buy some plants.

Would try and post some pics of them once they grow a little. Till then, I shall have the fun of watching them grow and taking care of them, yay!

Earth Day!

2009-04-22T02:12:00.000-07:00

Today is the Earth day and I think it is a nice time for each one of us to remind ourselves of terms like... renewable energy, planting trees, recycling stuff, optimal usage of natural resources and all.

Exactly two weeks back, our office in anticipation of today and its corporate social responsibility, asked us to submit ideas that we could come up with which we could use during this one week we decided to contribute to our environment. I usually am the last person in our office to submit and contribute towards any office activities...and I know it is nothing to be proud of. Yet, for a change I thought of submitting this idea that I feel very strongly for and about which I have been thinking for a while now - Reducing usage of or Removing Plastic Bags from our lives.

After submitting this idea, I finally launched on my personal war against plastic bags, and amazingly enough I have not used them for exactly two weeks today. Though let me admit upfront that I was really really bad when it came to polluting earth with plastics. So, two weeks does seem a big deal. There are some problems that I am still looking solutions for some very genuine problems that I would face very soon. Like how do I buy pulses and rice and stuff like that if I am buying them from the supermarket. They usually come in packaged plastic bags. Also, how do I keep vegetables in the fridge. I usually used to buy them from the veg kiosks in plastic bags and stuff them directly in the fridge. I have heard about some plastic boxes but the whole idea seems cumbersome.

I think the whole idea behind this post was to just make the presence felt of newbies in this field and give some comfort if at all any to those who are scared of taking the first step. I just wanted to say it loud that I am 26 and I have only taken my very first step towards making earth a cleaner and better place. Hope I learn more as I venture forth.

P.S. - Would love more ideas on how I could carry forth my mission against plastic bags further.

Is it too late or early?

2009-04-14T23:40:00.000-07:00

Is it too late my luv?

to write...

to write all that I lived for

the count never stops

am I late for the only thing

that was supposed to be me?

A new life,

with all its new ways

beckons.

Yet I stay

the very same way.

Still & silent.

The empty road

leads back to my house

just the way the other crowded one.

Is it a game?

I play to pass my time?

or is it nothing at all?

No longer

I pretend

to be happy

and young.

I wish

I live

and love

till I die.

Tagged By Rajtilak aka The Chronicles Of R

2009-03-17T20:55:00.000-07:00

I know it is a lil delayed, but did not really have the time or energy in the past few days.
1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
I was named after this tonic named Bunnyshon/Bonyshon (not sure how it is spelled) it was one of the tonics that I was given as a baby and my mom really liked the good it did to me so was named bunny.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Last night, while I was watching P.S I Love You :(. I can cry really bad watching movies.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes, I do. But it could be better.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Chicken.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
No.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Of course I would be. I am wonderful and a very loyal friend to have.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Sometimes, when I see the nedd to.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes. I have everything with which I was born except for the umbical cord may be.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Yes sure...that is one of the things I really want to try.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Rice & Corn (maize).

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Never. Too lazy or careless for that.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Vanilla, Butter Scotch, & Black Current.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
It's wierd but I notice their nose.

15. RED OR PINK?
Would go with red.

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
My foot. It is really really ugly.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? The question could be twiked for what as well!
I miss being at home, in Raigarh my home town, with my cousins, celebrating Holi, the list is really endless.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
Yes, if they have the time and inclination.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
I am wearing a washed blue denims and my shoes are washed black canvas kinds.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
My breath and my cube mates typing on their laptops.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Yellow or fresh Green.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
My mother's & KT's skin, smell of earth after the first shower, my new perfume Deneude.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
KT!

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
Yes, ofcourse would like to know him more. Hardly know anything about him except he is an avid blogger and is good at it.

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Football, tennis, my nephew running here and there talking gibberish.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Black. I think.

28. EYE COLOR?
Dark brown.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No, I don't need to. I have a perfect 20-20 eyesight.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Home made anything.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Last night I re-watched P.S. I Love You. I am in this chick flick mode.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Black Tees.

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter for its lazy spread out afternoons, Summer for its cool & well lit evenings, rains just for the reason it rains anytime.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Both in their own time.

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
All depends on my mood really.

38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
ummm...just to not copy it from Rajtilak...lemme think...off late I think, "How are you?" & "How was your weekend?"

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
None as of now. Plan on starting with Women As Lovers.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Ripples!

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
According to Jim, if I remember right.

42. FAVORITE SOUND(S).
My nephew's voice, rain drops on leaves, silence.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
The US.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
Yes, I have very strong intuitions which are almost always come true especially about death.

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
In a hospital in Raigarh.

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING?
Dunno.

48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
We were very good friends and class mates during our masters.

If anyone is willing to write about this please go ahead and get tagged.

Things I wish to Learn/Do

2009-03-08T21:35:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to learn/do a few things for sometime now. It is funny how when I had all the time while I was studying I never took any initiative to do any of those. Now, when I am working and five days of the week passes in front of the laptop, I so so want to learn/do one or all of the things. Most of this wish list is to do with my trying to indulge and enhance my artistic self. Just to list a few of them,

1. I want to learn how to sing well.

2. I want to learn the guitar. (sadly, I even own a guitar from the past three years and still have not managed to learn it)

3. I want to join Yoga.

4. I want to learn how to sketch. (I tried learning from sketch books at home and was not really bad, but stopped)

5. I want to learn how to read and write Bangla. (I can manage to speak with a lot of mistakes here and there)

6. All my life now I have been wanting to read and write more...so I think that goes without saying.

7. I want to do a huge glass painting.

8. I want to learn harmonium.

9. I want to re-work on my MA dissertation.

10. I want to make a short film, howmuch ever amateurish it end up becoming.

11. I want to work with an orphange as a vocation.

I think, I need to just start on a few. For the first one, I will need to ask UG to give me the phone number of the lady who takes singing classes and talk to her to fix the class dates. To learn Bangla I think I should ask KT or the Meister to help me as they are available at all odd hours. Even, I could talk to the Meister and have this F2F (friend to friend) classes where I teach him Hindi and he can teach me bangla. For guitar, I guess someone who knows any guitar teacher in Hyd could pass me the number.

I got two of my small glass paintings framed and they look beautiful, so I think that will motivate me to do a bigger one now. I have to figure where my MA dissertation is and then could perhaps start revising it chapter by chapter, may be even talk to my previous guide :)

I could do so many things, just that I need to start somewhere. I think I need more people like the Meister around me, who go follow their heart and instincts and get things done, I think that will motivate me.

Just to let all those who read this - This is my 100th post!

Considering, I have been blogging for over two years now, that looks pretty bad, doesn't it?

Been Busy

2009-03-03T20:13:00.000-08:00

I have been really busy for the past two weeks. So much so that the whole of this week I have gone back home around 9 or 10 pm everyday and for the rest of the days in the week, I don't think its going to be any different.

That was my reason for not posting anything for this long. The day, I made my last post, I went to Puri for a 4-5 days fun trip. Had a great time there. Have been wanting to post about it for sometime, but then again was either too tied up with work or very tired. Now, the experience seems so long back that it feels I would do injustice if I write about it now.

I don't really know why I am making this no-sense post, not that any of you is really interested in knowing the why's in my life. I think, I am just trying to overcome the guilt of not having written anything for a long time.

February, was very much all about work and the trip to Puri. I just managed to read one book. Did not even open another, inspite of the huge plans I had for reading...for which I even got a Shelfari cupboard of books.

bye bye to busy february and welcome to a hopeful march for more fun times.

This One too is for my Cab mate...

2009-02-19T23:55:00.000-08:00

I Do sound as if I have ahuge fan following and I am some popular writer. But couldn't get a better title.
This Post is also for all those who are disgusted by the word "feminism".
This way I am also letting you deceide whether you want to read this or not...
This is a lilttle bit of information on about what feminism is not
1. Feminism to start with is not all/only about women out with lathis on the road, bashing up men at every opprtunity.
2. Feminism is also not exclusive of housewives and women who are introvert, non-modern rather traditional.
3. Feminism is also not only about women smoking and drinking.
4. Feminism is not just about "bra burning"
5. Feminism is not synonymous to not understanding things and making an issue out of it all the time.
6. Feminism is not inconsiderate.

and perhaps Feminism should not be a thing of the upper class/ caste women.

Feminism is a better way of living for women!

This and much much more human is feminism!

hope it helps all those who misunderstand it and me too.

Amen!

Re: Can I use the banned word

2009-02-19T23:44:00.000-08:00

I am re-posting this one, as I wanted one of my cab-mates to read this and didn't want him searching for the post.

Is feminism an ideology for ugly women?
Isn't being a woman reason enough to be a feminist?
Do we have to know the history and everything that went into getting FEMINISM the platform where it stands today?
Agreed one needs to know, but perhaps one cannot dismiss somebody just because s/he hasn't read the literature on feminism.
Whatever!
It's surprising how somebody in her interview said that she is afraid to have freedom, cause at the end of the day it leaves her tired of the social structure.

Is it enough for women like me and anybody reading this that Feminism today functions perfectly well just in our lives?

Do not we need to push it further so that it reaches to lives of all women? Shall we happily wrap up our mouths and mumble things that only we can hear, and be happy and 'thankful' of the situation we are in today? Is it enough to say that it is necessary that women be emancipated and let others fight for the cause? And in the end of it all say something like
"these Feminists are here to create Chaos !"
Sigh! lastly do we accept any and everything in the name of a culture that teaches us to be filth and nothing more?
do we
do we
do we!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

An Excerpt From my MA Dissertation - Stereotyping Women In Lifestyle Magazines

2009-02-18T06:00:00.000-08:00

When I was born, they looked at me and said: 'What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy!' And when you were born, they looked at you and said: 'What a sweet girl, what a beautiful girl, what a pretty girl!'" "What A Good Boy," The Barenaked Ladies.

For several decades now, media critics and feminists alike have been examining the role of the media in creating and reinforcing stereotypical representations of women and femininity. But only recently have they expanded the research to consider how the media also constructs, informs and reinforces prevalent ideas about men and masculinity, which in the process also builds a stereotypical notion of femininity. Take for instance ‘Masculinity and Men’s Lifestyle Magazine’ a book by Beethan Benwell which deals in detail how stereotypes of masculinity are formed by the media or a book by Jonathan Bignell ‘Media Semiotics: An Introduction’ which talks about the semiotics of advertisements in both Men’s and Women’s magazines and how women are framed as sexual objects in this all male world of media.
. What remains my concern in this paper is to try to figure out the ways in which these magazines in the process of constructing a stereotypical masculine identity, continue to relegate women to the background and, in doing so, are examples of social backlash directed against specific gains made by women in the paid labor force, mass media industries and other professions. It is true that it is no coincidence that as women are achieving greater social, political and professional equality, these magazines symbolically relegate them to subordinate positions as sex objects and objects of recreation for men. And it is also true when we often complain that the pressure put on women through ads, television, film and new media to be sexually attractive—and sexually active—is profound, more perhaps today than during any other times. Is it then to say that women who have now begun realizing their potential, which for long had been suppressed, are threatening the long and well preserved superior subject positions occupied by men? This is however not to say that Men’s magazines deliberately and visibly try to undermine the gains made by women, yet to suggest that the way in which a woman appears in these magazines through there articles and their advertisements is such that the only aspect of her that can be highlighted is nothing but her body and her intelligence is often made fun of. There are recurrent articles in Man’s World about how 10 famous men in India rate such and such woman’s sex appeal, or who according to ten business tycoons are the five sexiest women India/world. These magazines also deride women by showing them in low light through cartoons, take for instance a cartoon where a woman come in with a packet of oil n complains to her husband saying the shopkeeper cheated her by not giving the 100% cholesterol free that is mentioned in the pack etc. and most importantly, how they handle women etc. What is interesting however in these magazines is that they take women to be this object available to be seduced by good looks and manners of men. The tone of the magazine especially in its ‘Dr. Know’ (a section that deals with the problems the readers ask) is such that it relegates women to this inferior objectified level. The tone in this section is always filled with sarcasm with this assumed cool attitude towards life, and a kind of rhetoric that is filled with wit and humour which never answers questions in a serious, responsible direct way.Whereas in a women’s magazine the problems whatever it may be is invariably dealt with more seriousness and concern even when the question is from a man. What can be the reason for such a wide difference in the treatment of almost the same issues? Here comes the question of stereotypes as in why do the men’s magazines mostly have this kind of a comic approach to questions relating to the private realm? Has it something to do with the fact of creating stereotypical identities of masculinity and feminity which exist in society – to say a silly, emotional, infantile female who needs to discuss such matter of fact things as against a more mature man who does not need such advices.

P.S - I am thinking on starting up again on my dissertation. May be I will begin with re-writing it and then take it further.

Ramblings. You don't really need to read this.

2009-02-18T01:20:00.000-08:00

It is such a pain to discuss marriage, see people getting married, your mother wanting you to be married, your roomate moving out because she is getting married, and your about to be married friends trying to convince you to get married, and your sister telling you that you are already almost 27....and marriage, marriage, marriage....

I had been intending to make this post sometime last week or the beginning of this week. But due to a lot of work could not do so. And now, I am trying my best to recollect and write about the dislike I had developed in the last few days towards discussing anything to do with marriage. It is not that I have anything inherently againgst marriage of people getting married. It is different that off late, I fail to see the need for it immediately in my life. Also, the fact that due to some reasons, I can't get married in this year, leads me to not think about getting married in the near future :)

On top of all this, my best friend is getting married in May, so she constantly wants to discuss about dresses, and her fiance, and other marriage details. Then there is my roomate who is moving back to her hometown, as her marriage is fixed for June. Then there is other college friend who is getting married end of this month. Then there is my mother who wants to talk about it twice or thrice over the week. All this just burst my own tiny bubble for marriage I think. I do want to get married, but I think there is far too much talk which is just annoying me.

The other day, this couple friend who are getting married came to invite me for their wedding and asked me about my plans for the same and counselled me standing at my door, when I was extremely sleepy and ready to hit the bed, about how I should just go ahead and get married and not think a lot about it. God, in the depressing life that I have where I go to work, come back, cook, read a bit, and sleep...marriage has become another depressing things to talk about.

I am bored, sleepy, tiered, and I think I do not want to work. Not that my work is boring or anything. But I just don't to come and see the stupid faces everyday. I am sick of seeing the same people everyday. I am sure they are sick of me too. I am undecided about what I want to do with my life ahead...and to add to all this, ruthlessly people want me to take a decision on marriage and more ruthless people want me to just get married. Sometimes, I wonder, what will they get out of the whole thing. Sometimes, I also think I do want to get married.

I think I am thinking and all this, because I want to postpone this work I need to start on and knowing that I will be stuck in office till some 10 in the night...I don't feel like getting started. I am so sick of the whole routine that life has become that I don't know what to do about it. As I told Serendipiduous today over phone, when he called to say he has chicken pox, I am living my life from lunch breaks to lunch breaks and dinners to dinners. Though, by this I did not want to say that the only interest that is remaining in me is to eat a lot. Infact, I am bored of that too. But I said it anyways, because I was about to go for my lunch break.

I read this collection of short stories 'Dancing Girls,' which if you notice in my previous posts, I read half in January. The stories are really wierd. They have no ending, and a trial of a beginning. Though, this does not make them bad stories at all. Some of them are really nice, like 'Under Glass,' 'Hair Jewellery,' 'Rape Fantasies,' and others which I can't remember. I am planning on starting Thousand Splendid Suns, I think before starting, I am going to ask Meister about how he liked it. The Meister read the book in his office, I think that could be one of the reasons why one of his boss hates him.

I had left off at this point, when I had a team meeting where a guy presented about this movie Indian. Something about a bike, racing, and dreaming. This presentation thing is a dumb initiative my team (with me in it) has taken to improve on our presentation skills. As if any of these things help. Not to the un-initiated people like me. While the meeting was on, the Meister read this and was angry about me spoiling his name/fame in the blogging world by associating him to (apparently) intellectual books. So, I withdraw my statement above about the Meister having read Thousand Splendid Suns.

Everyone seems like bored or tiered of their present life. We all need change, but we are too scared to take a step towards it. Too lazy, I think. I sure am.

I am hitting on the publish button after every few lines or so. So, if someone does take the effort to read this post. They might see half sentences as well.

I am going to Puri in two more days. I so wish, I have a good time there. Sometimes, I feel like just taking a week off and staying at home. From puri, I plan a trip alone to Konark. Me and Serendipiduous had a nice chat over this on how I will pretend to be a Firang....in this trip of mine.

OK. I need to go sit with a colleague of mine and work on some stupid office stuff. I will continue rambling later when I feel like and have the time.

The Weekend Is Over :(

2009-02-15T06:48:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, it is so sad to end a weekend full of activities shared with family and friends, that I almost feel like crying when it is sunday evening and everyone packs up to leave for their own destinations/homes. Today, while walking back home from KT's house, after seeing off my brother, his wife, my cute niece, and a friend in the auto, I felt an accute sense of loss...like I am not going to meet them for a long time to come. When the truth is I would be meeting them again in similar set ups in a week's time. But just the thought that now we would all get busy with work and our own fucked up lives, fills me with such sadness that I feel like living my life just the way the weekend had passed.

I wonder, what is better - a weekend where I entertain myself alone in the comfort of my home, books and, homely chores or meeting these people I love and love to spend my time with? At the end of the latter, I almost have this fatal desire to quit my job and settle for a life which is less complicated, where I do not need to get up early in the morning to get ready for work, and don't need to think about the insane things that life is.

I hate this habit in me where I become nostalgic almost immediately after something I enjoy has happened/passed. I have this rising empty feeling at the pit of my tummy which ends up with a choking of emotions in my throat. As of now, with the weekend as a wonderful thing of the past, I feel miserable and lonely. I wish the month was a string of weekends where I lived happily ever after with people I love :O

Tagged By The Meister :)

2009-02-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

1. If your lover betrayed you, what would your reaction be?

Not really sure of the exact reaction...but later it would follow by trying to make a wonderful story about it. A small amount of harmless bitching and cribbing and then forgetting about it in way it affects my day to day activities.

2. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be?

I have written a beautiful book of the class of Marquez's or better :). Also, that I have a not so huge orphanage.

3. Whose butt would you like to kick?

No one matters that much really that I invest so much anger on them. And those who do matter, never do anything to get a kick.

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?

With the present state of mind - buy loads of books, travel a hell lot, open an orphanage, try to avoid the cycle of Investment ensures savings and spend every single penny on me and others and once I have done that come back to being a pauper and wait for the billion dollars all over again

5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?

I have already in not one but two occassions -Sameer and KT :). I think it is wonderful...though complicates things for a while.

6. Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?

I would say both. One teaches you to focus on yourself and the other being selfless...

7. How long would you wait for someone you loved?

The cliche - All my life/forever. Actually, it all depends on my mood and life.

8. If the person you secretly like is attached, what will you do?

Whine and glorify my pain so much so that he helps me write about it :). Also, about the person, I let him/her be...have practised this art in the recent years.

9. If you could root for one social cause, what would it be?

I think habitation for street kids and their education...not in the farce way things are happening right now in India. Also, for not taking advantage of farmers and giving them their due.

10. What takes you down the fastest?

Betrayals in any way, Pretensions. Also, people who look down on others.

11. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?

A better human being...rest is irrelevant to me and to all those who love me.

12. What’s your fear?

Becoming one of the urban phony crowd!!

13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?

hmm...extremely protective and with a lot of defenses. Someone whom I have come to adore as a very good friend and who is really angry about people wrongly using apostrophe's ;)

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?

Anything....just want to have my friends and books in either of the case.

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?

try to figure excuses how I could sleep for a little more longer and snooze my cell phone alarm :)

16. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously who will you pick?

If I could I would be with both.

17. Would you give all in a relationship?

I always do, just that people are very cynical these days struggling with their own insecurities that they fail to see my love.

18. Would you forgive and forget someone no matter how horrible a thing he has done?

Sure...I hate the whole business which leads to forgiving and forgetting, anyways.

19. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship?

I enjoy both, while you are single you have all the time and space in the world to be yourself....you have your own dreams to follow....when you are in a relationship you need to be more selfless...need to care not just about yourself but the person you love and chase both your dreams together

I do not tag anyone if anyone wants to have a similar post please go ahead...it is just too 'psycho' a questionaire as the meister calls it.

Books I Read In January

2009-02-10T20:02:00.000-08:00

One of my unsaid resolutions this year was to read more books and more authors. Recently, I decided that it would also be nice to do a monthly check of the books I read in a month. So, in January I read Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien, The Bad Girl by Maria Vargas Llosa, Surfacing by Margaret Atwood, and half of Dancing Girls by Atwood again.

1. Lord Of The Rings - It is a great book by Tolkien for all those people who love Fantasy Fiction. It is built on a grand scale and makes up for a gripping read. I was so glued to the book that I read it in my cab, during breaks in my office, in the loo...I have to agree that I have not read Hobbits yet which is followed by The Fellowship of the Rings, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King. Yet it does not make Lord of the Rings difficult to understand. The latter three books (Fellowship, Towers, & Return) come together to make the entire series of Lord of the Rings. It is an epic high fantasy novel written immaculately by Tolkien. They say, that Tolkien began LOR just as a sequel to his earlier novel The Hobbit, which reviews claim is a less complex children's fantasy novel. It is a long book but I think it is an enriching experience to have read it. In the foreword to the second edition, Tolkien says, "It is a massive undertaking not just to the writer but for the reader as well." I think that in itself sums up how great a reading it makes for.

2. The Bad Girl - A tale of unrequitted love (most part of the book), eloquent and torturing romance, and a show of brilliant language use, is what Llosa has packaged for us in The Bad Girl. Just imagine yourself being under the spell of deceptive genius and craftiness and a larger than life presence with whom you fall in love. You will exactly then empathize with the Peruvian hero of Llosa's book. In the beginning, the story does take a little time to capture you, but once that begins...you just go from page to page. For me it was really engaging the way, Llosa has developed both the Peruvian boy and the Chilean girl (since I do not remember the names, i use the demographics to name the characters). Having read many of the other books by the same author, I feel that he masters the art of having multiple narratives (ref - Aunt Julia & The Scriptwriter) and also he has this great finesse in doing jerky shifts in narratives, without throwing off the readers. I would really suggest people to read atleast these two books I mentioned of Llosa's to have a great reading experience.

3. Surfacing - A book by Margaret Atwood. As the title suggests, its about coming to terms with the protagonist's identity. It is a very complex narrative with a lot of global issues like identity, feminism, distruction towards nature are dealt. In the book the protagonist is narrating the story, so all we come to know is either through her monologues or we experience events through the thoughts of her. Wierd thing is the protagonist has not bee named in the entire book. I think, Atwood has grappled with the complex notions of identity, be it then the national identity or the gender identity with as less complexity in her narrative as possible. Though the upper layer (for lack of better and more technical term) of the narrative forms the story of the girl coming to her hometown in Canada - Qubec, to look for her missing father. But the more important plot comes with her trying to come to terms with her own supressed past and the loss of her identity. Other themes which could perhaps be told is the idea of how nature is being lost and destroyed by the inflow of urban populace to the smaller towns, another would be perhaps madness and how the protagonist washes away the negative influence of her past to align herself to her present state(which is shown by her literally diving into the chilly river, throwing away her clothes, and limiting her to raw food. Basically, throwing herself in the lap of nature and fianlly rejoining her lover Joe). All in all, it makes for a very complex, yet great read. Though, I am still to come to terms or become comfortable with Atwood's style...will save my more detailed comments for later when I have a better grasp of her style.

4. The Dancing Girls - It is a collection of very abstract short stories by Atwood with underlying complex themes and issues. I still do not understand the few stories I have read in my own vague mind. Will hold on suggesting it personally to people till I finish all of the stories, rest choice is always very personal...so you can very well go to a bookstore and grab a copy.

Since, the tag season is on...let me use it by tagging the Meister, The Chronicles Of R, Myriad, alchera, and shyamalee. You will need to mention the top five books you read in January with a short review and if you think I should be reading them, then suggest so after the review of each book. May be if it helps we could all do it every month end of beginning of next month. This way we all can read a variety of books and discuss about them on our blogs. An added advantage, you could always use this post at times when you do not really have much to talk about in your blogs :)

You will need to mention the top five books you read in January with a short review and if you think I should be reading it then suggesting it so in your own post.

What Happened Day Before...

2009-02-09T20:51:00.000-08:00

My mother called me just like any other day. We had our normal conversation about how she spoke to my nephew. How she would take him out everyday once she is banglore...how was my life going?Teasing me with how my work was no work and inquiring on what I ate.

Just before hanging up she said she watched Slumdog. I was like, when? She said, "yesterday night show." I think I was very proud and elated to hear that at her age of 59 she still retains the youth in her to go catch a night show alone with her sister that too in a two wheeler. Post the movie, both my mother and my aunt went to this 'chai bandi' close to the theatre and sat there to drink tea. On their way back they even managed to go for a drive and also had a small accident, which to her was funny, so much so that, while telling me about it she couldn't stop laughing. In my family people just admire and are in awe of the Patnaik sisters...(my mother's maiden last name)They have always been the ones full of life and living it with everything they have.

Even me, have all my life beleived her to be an adventurous woman...who loves to live life to the fullest on her own accord. Just that off late perhaps I had overlooked this aspect of hers....but getting reminded of it was one of the sweetest surprises, I have had in some time. She is the most fierce, most adventurous, most strong, most loving, most caring, and most independent person I have known in my life. I only wish if me and my sister could get even an ounce of her personality in us...

Love You Ma!

25 random things about me :O

2009-02-06T03:42:00.000-08:00

I have been tagged by UG...I had requested her to tag me ;). But now I find it difficiult to sit and jot down 25 things and on top random about me. So, here goes.

1. I can't speak over the phone for more than umm 10 mints (exaggerating) or I feel like shitting.

2. I hav a very bad virtual persona...or so I have been told cause I do not show any warthm while chatting.

3. I get way too excited in a library or a large room full of books. So, much so that everytime I enter one, the mission of going through books gets aborted shortly as I feel the need to shit.

4. I am painfully and brutally honest with people I love.

5. I cannot shop for more than 30 minutes at a strech...get bored.

6. I have this nack of categorizing people by saying "s/he is a good person at heart, you can just see it in their eyes or feel it" as against "s/he is not a nice person."

7. I get along with guys better as I have grown up with my male cousins. Infact, I am scared of a bunch of girls together. Awfully scared of their mood swings and emotions. As being a girl, I know I can be very moody.

8. I respect and admire people who are themselves.

9. I am a disbeliever of allopathy and homeopathy. I think they just give us momentary relief but do not cure the root of the problem.

10. I have a very high threshhold for pain and endurance.

11. I get very embarrased when after a fight or argument or a fall out people come and say sorry to me. I just cannot handle the situation, as I feel very guilty to make people say sorry to me. I know it is wierd but my eyes well up :O

12. I have very ugly feet. I have this lonnnng toe next to my thumb which stands out like the Tall Man in a circus. Some of friends have suggested just chopping it off.

13. I am usually very brave, but I am shit scared of needles and all things that poke. This is one reason I am scared of donating blood (though I have done thrice) and tattoos(though I dislike it for other reasons more sane.)

14. I get sexually attracted to men (of other more serious things) who are tall, sensitive, who can cook, and who read. Though sometimes I just fall for men just opposite.

15. I cannot tolerate loud sound....whatever then it may be, it turns noise to my ears...be it then music, voices, pubs, and other stuff. This is one reason, I inevitably do not even try to get along with people who are loud(in every sense of the word.)

16. I love homemade food in contrary to eating out. Infact, I love everything that says 'home' to me than 'outside.' Be it then going out, thinking about other people, etc. I love being at home, thinking rather than questioning, talking and reasoning with myself....I know it is narcissistic and I love it.

17. My fav color is Yellow!

18. I love getting attention and I am quite open about it in front of people I can demand attention as my right. Infact, most of my testimonials in Orkut talk about how "I love being loved and always end up being loved."

19. I would die without my family and especially without my brothers. Infact, they are the only support system I have. Anytime I feel dejected, just thinking about HOW MUCH they love me makes me smile. This is one of the ways, I deal with the way people relate to each other in urban spaces. (I know many of my friends hate it when I say Urban in this alienating manner)

20. Offlate, I have become kindda snobbish in ignoring people who 'do not fit the bill for me.' And I do not feel guilty or bad about it, as I rationalize it by saying I should spend time with people I want, rather otherwise. Also, I think this does not make me less tolerant.

21. I am pretty bad at remembering names. Also, I forget names at most crucial points, this one time in the middle of a Q & A I forgot the name of my co-presenter and she happens to be my dearest and most cherished friend in Hyd. But she was very nice to me and gave me her name with a straight face :)

22. I have this habit of re-creating my dreams once I remember one after waking up. I get so involved with it that I end up coming up with many ways the dream could end and I get all confused.

23. I have this habit of giving away anything that I think would not be used in the next 10-15 days. Atleast, this is how KT puts it.

24. I wish to write a book one day and it is going to all about Raigarh (my hometown and the haven for me) and all that I relate to the place.

25. As a test or sacrifice to my friendship and love, I ask people who love me to quit eating Kachori, cause I believe that it enduces headache :)

This is my first tag in the past four years or so that I have been blogging and I enjoyed the whole experience thanks to UG!

Yay! now I get to tag others what fun. So, here people I tag thee- Meister, Myriadmind, Serendipiduous, UglyGirl(as you said I needed to tag the one who tagged me), TickTalks :) Have fun guys. I know most of you would just defame me by not bothering to do this.

It's Sheer Blasphemy

2009-01-30T09:24:00.000-08:00

While blog hopping (going from one blog to another), I came across a series of blogposts about Chyetanya Kunte's NDTV fiasco. My very first reaction, I really live the life of an ignorant fool, because how else do I explain my not knowing about this for such a long time. Second, third, and all the reactions that follow till I am exhausted are nothing but of shock and disgust. It's been quite sometime that I have been wanting to make a post about my personal opinion about 'The Ms. Barkha Dutta.' However, I think, after finding about CK and NDTV I am left with no words. I infact feel sad about the lady and the channel that flaunts itself raising the 'free speech' flag all the time. But reading about the Chyetanya Kunte's case, I am appalled at NDTV and at Ms. Dutt, more than I ever was.

I think may be, just may be, someone needs to clarify the meanings of 'free speech' and of 'double standards,' to both NDTV and Barkha Dutt. I agree Chyetanya Kunte's post 'Shoddy-Journalism' was not really professional and lacked facts, but it said nothing to evoke the kind of action that was taken by petty NDTV folks and Ms. Dutt. The apology surely stinks of the double standards that both the entities (NDTV & Dutt) reak of and presents the Indian Media in a new light.

Yet Another Hour Of Office Time!

2009-01-30T02:56:00.001-08:00

Is The Honeymoon Over??

2009-01-29T22:25:00.000-08:00

I went to watch Slumdog Millionaire last Tuesday. With all the shiny golden awards that the film bagged, I and KT went in with a lot of expectations.

We hated the fact that we missed the first 2 minutes of the movie. All settled into our seats, we began the journey of Slumdog. I infact quite liked the portion where they extensively show Dharaavi and the kids navigating through the mysterious lanes and by lanes. Then in a very small period of time comes a series of things that any foreign eye thinks is quintessential India - Gallee cricket matches on runways, policemen chasing slum kids, the fan frenzy for Amitabh, the communal riot, the bad beggar gangs, childhood love, if anything was missing Danny Boyle completed it with the last dance number in bollywood ishtyle Jai Ho....though Kudos to AR Rehman for the fantastic music.

Many might think that I have a problem with foreign directors like Boyle showcasing only the worst of India. But trust me I have no such issues, I am not ashamed of saying or seeing what is my own (I know, i can say this easily, as I don't physically belong any of these spaces), and if I get awards and fame for it....what could be better. But if anyone is to ask me, whether or not I liked the movie....I would say, it was just OK. A mediocre film for me, that did not really transport my movie watching experience to something I had never experienced before. I perhaps wanted to like the movie, so much, that I felt guilty for getting bored. Since then, I have spoken to quite a few of my colleagues, friends, and family who watched the movie and each one of them is a little dissappointed with the fact that the movie was just OK for them too. Why so? What went wrong with the movie releasing in India, when it won such high remarks outside?

To give a very amateur opinion, I think, the whole content of the movie is for a foreign audience, who finds shock and surprise at the sight of a place like Dharavi, seeing all that makes a slum in India. With kids fighting their own way to adulthood, with a child being exposed to the malice of the grown up world, they watch all this in awe and perhaps feel pity. I think, it is all very unrealistic for a foreign eye and therefore, they enjoy experiencing something out of their own worlds. But for us, there is nothing new, we see such scenes everyday. This is where, I think, the movie fails.

For us, it is a way of life in India. Many of us may be even want to do something to help them. But still we very much accept the fact of their existence and the conditions in which they live. But for the world of America and Britain...it is beyond imagination, leave apart acceptance, to think of this way of life. I think this is where the movie is such a hit outside of India. Talking about cinematic brilliance, I could not really find many of such moments in the entire movie. It is more or less like a very good documentary cinema, if we can place it in that genre. May be the end dance & song number was only to make the audience feel that they were watching a mainstream cinema, may be even the love story was there for this very reason. Though, personally for me, it completely lacks any spark, chemistry, or even reason :)

But I do give points to Danny Boyle, Dev Patel, Freida Pinto for surviving India and Dharavi without a scratch. Also, I think, I will give points to Dev Patel and Freida Pinto for going on and on giving interviews about SDM, without stopping to think...hellos people, you literally had no role in the movie....I am angry that Salim has been completly forgotten...

What I love in the movie is the way, the kids have acted. Hats off to whoever made them act so naturally. I love Salim's character in the movie, it is the best developed character in the film. I think....more people should be talking about the kid, the guy, and the character who played Salim, than the typical NRI looking Dev Patel, whom if you want you can completly ignore in the movie, or better place anyones face instead of his...and the movie will make no difference at all.

All this said and done, I think the Honeymoon is over for SDM atleast in India! Also, I think this will make no difference to the Oscar nominations or results. Big deal, if the movie is all about India....and a bigger deal if it wasn't really a hit in India, who cares....let's lobby for the film...since very few Indian(ummmm, if we can call it that) films reach the Oscars.....three cheers for Oscars....hip hip horray!

One word for going mad with boxes (9)

2009-01-27T03:33:00.000-08:00

The answer is CROSSWORD!

Over the long weekend, I managed to acquire a new hobby...no prizes for guessing. It indeed is crosswords. All my life, untill the past weekend, I hated doing crosswords and thought it to be a sheer waste of time and efforts. Mostly, coz whenever I tried to solve them, I failed miserably. So, much so that, I would forget the simplest of english synonyms. As a kid, I even thought it to be some kind of a monster, which makes you forget your words and spellings :O

But to every crossword solvers relief, I have overcome my fear for them and infact I love them now. Last saturday, I dug out all the supplements for MetroPlus (Hindu's daily supplement, except for Fridays) and tried my hands at around 20 crossword puzzles, loving each one of them. Though in the process, I almost ate up KTs brain asking his help on every second word. And KT being the superman when it comes to crosswords, did not really like getting disturbed between his Tennis, Mahabharat, Enter the Dragon, and other stuff. So, mostly I left many of the puzzles 50%-60% complete, after I got the "eyes rolling, chuckling to self" expressions. However, last night KT and me attempted to complete one old one :)I also completed one at work today with all the online help I could take and with the benevolent Meisters help. Yay! but I completed it all alone(since there was no physical being next to me ;)....kudos to me! But I do not like doing the online version much, and prefer the old school pen and newspaper :)

P.S - Have flicked today's Metroplus from office for a nice brain wrestling tournament at home :)

For Federer!

2009-01-21T03:17:00.000-08:00

Have been wanting to blog for a while. But then far too many things at work and work in itself has been overwhelming for a few days.

So, thought a small post about something new I watched on television last weekend. I am really bad when it comes to choosing what to see on television. I choose the most saddest of Ekta Kappoor operas and watch it, inspite of the fact that they make no sense to me. As, I watch TV once in a week or two may be. So, my room-mate and my boyfriend, usually try to show off their talents in this area. Though, I make my unhappiness with grunts and my constant trials to reach for the remote. I hope neither of them chance to read this, because the moment they do, my TV watching hours are so gonna reduce :(

Coming back to, to why I have suppplemented this post with Federer's pic :)I succumbed to KT choosing to watch one of those history captured series on FOX (a channel covering all these things that are past, present, and future). The show was showing, Federer's journey as a tennis-star. Glimpses from his matches from the past. I really liked what was shown as Federer to me (coz I somewhere identify with his never say die attitude he has as a sportsman) and decided, that if ever anyone asks me who my fav tennis player is, I would grin and say "Federer."

P.S - Post that day, I am trying to keep myself informed about my fav Tennis Player :)New Hobbie you see

Hindi Movie Posters...

2009-01-15T01:16:00.000-08:00

A coincidence it might be, but the topic seems to be swirling around my conversations with my friends and cab mates off late. So, what better than making a post about it.

In our conversations, I realized that hindi movie posters seem to have come a long way. Going back to one of the first image-less posters of the film Raja Harishchandra to the recent glossy posters for the Rock Ons and the Gajni's of our times. I remember having seen some of the hand-painted posters of the movies from 60s through the 80s, all stained with paan. Be it then, the colourful and yet crowded posters, with every main character on it, for Mera Naam Joker or the sole strong face of Amitabh Bacchan dominating it for almost all of his films in the 70s. The hindi movie posters have indeed come a long way.

When I was a kid, it was an awaited event for every thrusdays. When with my friends or cousins, I would take the most famous galees where the new movie posters would appear for the three cinema halls we had in our town back then. We would wait a minute or two staring at them, soaking in every detail, and only then would we continue our walk to see the same poster again in the next lane. Finally, we would come to decide on a day for watching.

Now, when I am in hyderabad, a friend reminds me of those posters in a casual conversation, and in my 23 km drive from my house to my office, my eyes search longingly for a single movie poster in one of those forgotten and wretched walls. To my surprise, the only posters I see are for the recent Telugu movies. Most of those are more like hoardings hung on huge billboards. I am forced to talk to my cab-mates about my fond memories of Amitabh, Mithun, or Govinda staring out of the old posters like Greek Gods, suited only for Indian fantasies. I remember, some of my girl friends staring longingly at them. Alas! I have to admit, the era for not just the hand-painted posters is gone, but so also the era for posters on every obscure wall is gone. Sadly enough, I only realized it far too late. I wonder, why such gradual disappearance, so sudden I surely can't call them?

Various answers flash through my head, may be too many TV advertisements for the upcoming new movies, internet bookings, various resources we now have to find out about the new releases. But could it be also because of the changing spaces we live in today. Who did these posters cater to? Who were their audience...? The general mass....

Has there then been a disconnect then in what constituted earlier the general mass?Perhaps yes, we can now divide the mass of any metropolis into - the Urban and the not so urban mass. The urban, looks at the multi-plexes and the internet for movie information and perhaps the not so urban mass is fast catching up. But how about the telugu movies, I grudge them for having the very boisterous posters, though not so appealing to me, staring out and making me all the more nostalgic about my lovely old hindi film posters. Why do they continue having them, and not just posters, but hoardings too. Who is the then the audience for these films? Do they still remain the naive youngster or rather the teenager that I was a decade back? Apart from innocence and such facades that I just used for my past, I think, there indeed is a serius disparity between the masses that watch the telugu and the hindi movies in Hyderabad. Because, just like the telugu posters, back home we still have these occasional hindi movie poster being stained every minute.

I think, merely for the fact that I choose to live in a metro-city, I will have to say goodbye to those celluloid moments, captured for eternity in a frame and live sulking with the glossy, rich multiplex posters.

For Bubloo & Tukun Da

2009-01-13T00:25:00.000-08:00

Ankhon mein masti sharab ki...

kali zulfon mein ratein shabab ki

Jane aayi kahan se tut ke

Mere daman mein pankhudi gulab ki, haye....

Chand ka tukda kahoon ya

Husn ki duniya kahoon

preet ki sargam kahu ya

pyar ka sapna kahu

Sochta hoon kya kahoon

is shokh ko mein kya kahoon...

Still remember the room, the red bucket, the bottles, the voices, and all that is ours...

Conversations...

2009-01-11T19:39:00.000-08:00

UG came over the last thursday to my house...it was a nice night of conversations and revealations. On second thoughts, conversations ofter lead to the latter. For me, it lead to a lot of re-revealations of me...

1. For me 'I' is very important, much much more than I have seen it in anyone around me.

2. I have lived alone for far too long and I guard my space like a treasure. Sometimes, accomodating people in it is a pain.

3. I realized people who enter my realm are only those whom I allow, that too very restrictively.

4. I have a conscious habit of being extra careful while placing two words next to each other....many times it shows. But most times it looks beautiful as well.

5. I was reminded of my mother's teaching once again, "never say or do things consciously to hurt others..."

6. I can be a good listener when I want to be.

7. I can choose to keep the real me hidden for a very long time, till I feel the need to or otherwise.

8. I love talking to UG.

9. I adore the way serendipiduous writes and I love its content too.

10. I am a snob in my own way.

11. I wish to write more.

12. The world is much much more that I ever could anticipate in my dreams.

13. I am so thankful to Tukun da for those times when he read the endless pages my register and corrected me.

14. I love him otherwise as well.

All these and much more. But thoughts as with anything else is temporal....so I could feel just something altogether different in another such nights where we talk...

A Jealous Snake

2008-12-29T21:26:00.000-08:00

I sit on my window sill
and see the children
laughing and playing
I see their smiling faces,
their merry lives,
and I writhe in pain...

Why could I not be
Happy
Alive
and More...

But Instead,
I crawl slow,
very slow.
Like a jealous snake
on a window sill...

No Title Apt For This...

2008-10-15T06:01:00.000-07:00

There is no real reason to write, nothing at all. But perhaps, after reading Premankur's eloquent posts, I want to write something even an ounce as good as he does.

May be I cannot. Writing rests as a forgotten memory which you remember only when you chance to come across some old picture of yours in an old, ragged family album. You try to fondle the memory by talking about it. You may even try to remember the names of all those captured in that memory. Sometimes, if leisure permits, you will try imitating the expressions lost and forgotten. But the end of it all is that you dust the album and shove it right back towards that end of the almirah where yours eyes hardly reach.

Sometimes, I wish I was in a city as quaint as Raigarh or atleast Kolkata. But then, I know people think it is merely an excuse to hide your inability to write. Perhaps, I should atleast begin to admit it...

Amidst the Blue Sky & A Yellow bird

2008-08-18T02:06:00.000-07:00

Pikpik, the yellow bird sat gathering the sunny delight of the afternoon. Hopping from one branch to another, she was oblivious that two people were talking about it. The happy yellow bird, underneath the blue sky...

I Don't know...

2008-08-13T22:43:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, its very difficult to realize why you are feeling the way you are. There is no justification. In the sense, the recent past events have nothing happening in it to explain your present emotion or the way you feel. Last night, I had a wonderful time with friends, who selflessly indulge me, and yet the morning made me sad. Waking up today, I had this empty feeling in my heart, so empty that it aches of nothingness.

Hollow,

every morning,

the world becomes a vacuum

and my heart sucks into the emptiness.

Delighted, it sings songs of misery

Relishes every drop of sad melody

till it can take no more...

no more of what I see

cracked-up faces smiling, false smiles

Social niceties traumatize me

and I see them basking in it

I feel lonely and alienated

Is this how it was supposed to be?

I was supposed to live a happy life

and not get sucked and consumed

by the rest...

It ain't A Game to be Over in a Jiffy...

2008-08-04T03:31:00.000-07:00

Life isn't a game that you stop it as and when you like. It is life, you ought to give warnings, warnings, and more of it before you decide to stop. Cruel and unannounced, that can't be the way. No more, I say.

Death isn't a gift that you just give to someone, without their asking for it. I ask of you to give us a gentle tap, remind us of our time, so we bid adieu. Give us the chance to mend our mistakes, and see lifefull of our loved ones, one last time. Cruel and unannounced, that can't be the way. No more, I say.

I am sorry. I never meant to hurt, but I did. Somewhere, within, I feel, we weren't supposed to be the way we were with each other. We loved, that's all we did. I am sure we did, somewhere deep within, but it got all overshadowed. This time when I meet, I will give you the strangest hug, that will clear out all that was never said, and all that I want to say right now.

Is it Time Yet?

2008-07-11T13:17:00.000-07:00

Is it time yet
to play mind games?

It never is perhaps
but yet we do it
incessantly...
I forget all that was Me
And start the game
yet again. This time
I want to learn to cheat lives...
Friends offer generously
So much that I forget it is a game
Perhaps it is...
It is time to go back to what I was
to start and never go back to where it all began...

2007-09-12T01:14:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, its hard to let go. Yet that seems to be the only recourse

...Life, Death and Pain

2007-08-28T00:57:00.001-07:00

It's not the right time
It's not the time in which one lives
but fear does
Fear about life, death and pain

I do not fear, says the little girl
perhaps she does not know
what life can teach you
just like death teaches you to be brave

It's not heaven that I am hopeful for
the moments spent in tears and prayers
are not for any one god
they just are moments of silence
where I think about well being
of a self, a family and the universe

Perhaps prayers about the universe
fades and is feeble
and so bodies die in pain
souls splatter
like grains on a marble floor

I do not fear says, the little girl
perhaps she knows about life deep within
she is ready to splatter her soul
into infinite pieces
at-least if it answers the prayers of one

The frozen masses join the dance
frenzy
a wild frenzy of splattered souls
plastered in red
sometimes, I lose the color
and the vision gets blurred
anyways its going to be heads, toes and faces
I know, so I let the focus go
blurred visions of the dead, the living
the brave and the unknown
a brother reckons the loss
a mother is broken
a sister listlessly consoles her own grief
a father prepares for the rituals
a pyre is formed
of life, death and pain...

2007-07-20T04:20:00.000-07:00

Stories are attemts to write something good, you might end with millions of pages of bad writing...

Stories for me never started with a king and a queen who had a lovely princess. ‘Once upon a time,’ this phrase lost its meaning, when kids started to spend more time in their living rooms, watching intently the extremely simple, yet so convoluted stories of the soap operas. With this, I guess it was the end to the stories that grandmothers tried to keep fresh in their memories, for those sunny afternoons, when schools were shut, and the scorching sun, did not allow us to step out of our houses.

Minu, never had imagined, that the carefully woven urban life would tear apart like this. Being the only child of the Pathak’s, she had the luxury to think of relationships, and master the art of urban living. When, her friends like Shibu, had to work hard to scrape some food to her plate. Minu, had spent a lot of her time, trying to re-conceptualize what the small town, with its un-smitten smell of rotten, thatched roof had taught her. She had managed to manipulate, all that she associated with her bare foot childhood. She thought she eventually had fit in, to this whole plethora of junk that people guiltily called ‘Urban.’

The crowded streets, with its sleek cars, ready to knock any one, in an outrage of heavy traffic, had intrigued her. The bright neon lights at the costly malls, with people flaunting the luxuries, she never had seen, amused and attracted her. The fancy eateries, the avenues that presented itself at every other corner, tempted her to reach out to her long locked, famished capitalist self. She was overwhelmed, how people could be so distant from each others lives, while back at home, shead explain, to not just her family or her neighborhood, but to that of her mothers, about anything she did. She for once had started to feel like the woman, the free bird she had wanted to be. She often dreamt of herself, wearing the red, flimsy gown, standing on the car, like Marlin Monroe. Since, the first glances of the city from Madan uncle’s, cramped car, she had wished hard to try and adopt all that a city had to offer. She practiced hard for an year or two, picking up every bit and piece she could, while her city-bred friend made fun of her naïve and endearing trials.

Amidst the giant buildings, which intimidated the village girl that she once was, she was now happy to be a part of the top floor office, and loved the exorbitant atmosphere, with keyboard keys beating like hear-beats, coffee machines replacing all it could and there she learnt to loose the innocence amidst contorted faces and illuminated screens.

About Nothingness

2007-03-13T00:16:00.000-07:00

hmm...sigh...

It is funny when you want to write but have no clue at all about what to write. On second thoughts I feel like scrubbing off the whole plan of writing. But then writing something is always better than nothing. A poem is always an easy and elusive way out. That ways I write something for the satisfaction of the half a reader audience that I have for my blog and always escape the torturous guilt of not writing something for long.

That being an explanation for a shitty post, I think now I can get away with anything worthless.

the only moon that shines
chisels its silhouette with the darkest coal
beneath I stand happy yet sad
to be alone
I do not sigh for the summer night
and try to feel
the crescent that evades
the balmy cool breeze
or perhaps not
yet childhood summer smells
all that is gone by
friends long forgotten
faces never drawn
call me by my kittens name
the mewing grows
and rekindles a spark
I let it smother away painlessly
yet the choking noise suffocates
the summer breeze
I try to think of my favorite river
and remember
it's been long I visited my mothers grave
the grass must have taken her in its lap
sung lullabies till she is asleep
and the moon must be shining as bright over her
as it is over me...

so it is a poem again :(

Shamuka...the only kid I relate to as a daughter

2007-02-02T02:29:00.000-08:00

My Girl,
the world you live in
will not be as bad as mine

You will not've to
scream your lungs out
to let people know
pains, a lot of them
and fights, your mother fought
just to give you the Life
you deserve.

By then, I would have lost my voice
making them learn to listen.

You would not've to
beg and plead in delirium
to make people understand
you as a woman
who suffers at every crossroad.

By then, I would have trained
a mile of people who understand a woman.

But, still I cannot promise you
My Girl,
that I 'll be able to reduce your woman-pain,
Yet I promise you this much sweet love
YOU, would not've to
bare your body stark naked
up for a public display,
to satisfy them of the age-old scars
that only this body has suffered.

Till then, I bleed
every drop in me,
like drops of dew from the early winter morning
and I will try to make the world
a much better place for you to live in...

P.S. - I know this poem isn't aesthetically good, rather it can't be called a poem perhaps, still it serves some of my purpose.

About to crash…

2007-01-03T22:28:00.000-08:00

Hold the waking up

Let it not announce

A new day

A new way

I live like a pale leaf

And I want to die the same way

Silent

Lonely

And withered

I repeat the images

I repeat my words

I repeat my life

To live it from the beginning

This time promising

To love you better

Love you more

I make a clean start

Fresh like the red wound

And as I start to heel ahead

I fall into a pattern

I think for this hundredth time

The pattern is new

At least the colors

And I believe in the difference

I try to tenderly cultivate it

But I never was like you

And so I forget the beginning

And get lost in the whirlpool

Of thoughts, lives, and loves

I discover towards the end

That I have unwontedly

Lived the very same life

With the very same lies

So I sleep never to wake up

Into a new beginning

Into a new rehearsal

And try to keep company

The remembrances that

I left on the lonely sea shore

And a red rose dipped in acid…

About me....

2006-12-18T21:52:00.000-08:00

First things first Happy Birthday Tukun da!

This post comes at the right time of the year when it is his birthday.
I have as always not planned to do this, but a fellow friend had bugged the hell out of me trying to understand me.

To people who really want to know me, I think the first step would be to know this one fact clearly...apart from parents, sibblings (which everyone has) one person I really cannot exist without is him.

I learnt a few very basics things about life from him. Not that I had not heard about these things but I discovered the new meanings of certain things along with him. The most important one being Love! i learnt to love after having fallen madly in love with him... he explained to me that there is so much more to the word than the usual "I love you way, we youngsters take it to be". I got to know it is about romance, about devotion, complete and selfless devotion. It is about music, photographs, colours and most importantly its about using words carefully. I think I am writing too much.
But I really learnt to live and enjoy life with him, along with him. I see the pains he took to make me what I am, and more what he gave me the strength to dare things that I can be.
I remember the times when painfully taught me the word 'threshold' and 'pirolignus acid' and 'constitution' and 'topography' and 'dumrus' and ofcourse the magic word 'marquez'. I hope and (do not wish) that I have spealt them correct atleast after some 9 years now.
it's been long that I said this but I really love and miss you.

P.S - I think I have embarrased you. have I?

To The Legendary Voice....To Begum Akhtar!

2006-12-12T22:40:00.000-08:00

Humne samjha tha ki barsaat mein barse ki sharaab
aayi jo barsaat to barsaat ne dil tod diya....

woh mere hain mujhe mil jayenge , laut aayenge
aise talkhiye khayalat ne dil tod diya....

Kill Bill... an essay that I wrote in 11 mintues!

2006-11-30T22:29:00.000-08:00

It is difficult for a person like me to pick and choose one movie over and above all the rest that I have seen in my entire life and say that ‘this was the best’. Perhaps it’s a difficult job for anybody, as it is for me. However, right now when I think of one movie that I really enjoyed watching the only name that I can think of is Quentin Torentino’s ‘Kill Bill’.

The movie is a relic we need to watch it to understand what the limits are that a director can reach up to in cinema. It is the height of creative imagination, something that normal human beings can only dream about. With the entire storyline based on a woman, Torentino definitely goes on to achieve what we would call the threshold of feminism and revolution. Uma Thurman, the protagonist does a near perfect job in bringing to life what the director only visualized and hoped for, be it her killing expressions, body language, or the fight sequences, Thurman masters the art of internalizing the character. The movie begins on a very serious note, but Torentino takes it to the realm of the unimaginable with Thurman like a devil slashing heads off, and blood oozing out like a fountain. All these details might seem gory but when you watch them, they are nothing but spectacular. The scenes are beautifully shot, and the technology used only ads to its perfection. I personally would suggest all movie buffs to watch the movie, if not for anything else but at least to understand what a spoof is all about and how a director can do it with so much style that the audience forgets all about the spoof and thinks about it as a classic piece of cinema.

Killing and Dying are the same at times...

2006-11-26T20:20:00.000-08:00

Nights

No more have stories

That you do not know

And so

Nothing in me I have

That interests you

And I cannot hold you back.

Will you smile if I got back the river, that

Flew away from our steps

Or will the stories already told

keep you at bay?

I ask

Will you stay?

The morning is so empty

No rustling bed sheets

No early morning dew on the glass window

Nothing only reasons for me

Get consumed in your absence

I wish

You would be back

With all that is so full of you

And as you lay your head

On the nights cold pillow

I would remember this time

To put winter under your sleep

So that it covers your body

And consumes you

You will then be a

Cold dead body

With nothing so life like about you

And I who has suffered long

Will mock at your purple cadaver

I wish

You come back…

This is just beautiful...

2006-11-23T22:59:00.000-08:00

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, be passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

P.S. - This poem is written by emily Dickinson. I posted it here, cause (i might sound like praising myself) I just could not ignore the striking resemblance between this poem of hers and the way I write always. The imagery, the way she has chosen the words, the shape and structure of the poem and so much more, reminded me of how I write, not as good ofcourse. Perhaps resemblances like these to great poets makes me still stick to the dream of writing well someday...I wish I could. Amen!

RE:Can I use the banned word?

2006-11-23T21:24:00.000-08:00

Let me be all hush-hush while I use it. If someone hears me using it, who knows the next thing they do is hang me...
finally the much debated, hated, and contemplated a word appears in my blog...F E M I N I S M !
Watched Paromita Vohra's documentary "unlimited girls", good I would say for the issues that it raises. Is feminism an ideology for ugly women?
Isn't being a woman reason enough to be a feminist?
Do we have to know the history and everything that went into getting FEMINISM the platform where it stands today?
Agreed one needs to know, but perhaps one cannot dismiss somebody just because s/he hasn't read the literature on feminism.
Whatever!
It's surprising how somebody in her interview said that she is afraid to have freedom, cause at the end of the day it leaves her tired of the social structure. Is it enough for women like me and anybody reading this that Feminism today functions perfectly well just in our lives? Do not we need to push it further so that it reaches to lives of all women? Shall we happily wrap up our mouths and mumble things that only we can hear, and be happy and 'thankful' of the situation we are in today? Is it enough to say that it is necessary that women be emancipated and let others fight for the cause? And in the end of it all say something like
"these Feminists are here to create Chaos !"
Sigh! lastly do we accept any and everything in the name of a culture that teaches us to be filth and nothing more?
do we
do we
do we!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

p.s.- the pic was found in a blog I read.

and suddenly it dies...

2006-11-20T22:38:00.000-08:00

evenings and winter chapel bells
long lost dusty feet
return home
on a foggy blue noon
the silly dance and celebrations
choke them to death
no footsteps to traceback the homecoming
no shattered glasses and
the smell of cheap liquor
no beaten backs with rashes
no moaning
no gathering
not even the usual flies
what do we call them
the mourning flies?
I guess let them be the yellow butterflies
not even them to show her lost presence
what could he hold on to afterall?
he rushed back with the mad dance
and took with him the mad, celebrating loneliness
this time
careful to leave back a few tiered footsteps
atleast she if she comes back,
Marichiko could trace him back...
but suddenly the wish dies
and withers in the dusty corners
silent, ages
and pales
and dies again
he looks back for it
and asks
did you keep it safe?

Of Death and its Demons...

2006-11-03T04:01:00.000-08:00

mad disgust
crazy awakenings
the cruel cycle bell
and another man
discharges his lust
rape
rape
rape
hushed, muffled voices
and then
finally a scream
men with moustaches
and women with lathis
debate and hate
over the pain-painted body
writhing like a snake on the ground
before the conclusion
the woman-heart stops beating
silence for a while
men lower their moustaches
women their lathis
they silently discuss
who won, and who lost
between a young boy
let us call him the Son
quietly lowers the body in
a filthy garbage bag
hauls it to the dead end
of the shadowless basti
burns it amidst nilgiri leaves
breathes in the fumes and the last ugliness
of an announced death...

Realisations...

2006-10-27T00:14:00.000-07:00

It is not going to be about anything concrete here, its just that the I hate thinking at times, it is such a futile task. While I wrote that sentence I just felt that i feel just the opposite of what I wrote.

I am scared actually about thinking...it makes me plunge into the sides of me which perhaps I am scared of, which I do nto want to face, which I do not want others to know.

And what is more I like that side of me better, but social constraints do nothing for me to fondle that side of me...

It's just sigh! time I guess.

To one of those poets whom I ve never had the chance to read

2006-09-23T09:36:00.000-07:00

This one is to Joy Goswami, I hope I am spelling his name correctly. I chanced to hear a few of his poems some time back, and fell in love with him even before he finished reading his first poem.
To the few who do not who he is, he is a bangla poet and that is all that I know of him. The best thing is he accidently happened in my life, as out of sheer boredom I agreed to accompany my friends to Ravindra Bhavan and came to find out that it was a kind of a 'Goshthi'. To cut the not so important things I will only write one of most beautiful lines I have ever come across,
"megh balika bhisti hoye ge che.."
which when crudly translated will read something like this,
"the young daughter of clouds has grown up to be fine and beautiful rain..."
I know many Bengalis will object to this translation, but thats how I think it meant.

P.S have been wanting to read more by the same author but not able to get hold of his writings, if anyone can please get it for me. What Hopes I have :)

What Do I Title This Post As?

2006-09-17T01:29:00.000-07:00

I have struggling for my first line for more than 1 minute now, I guess it speaks a lot about how long I have not written anything. This problem of not able to write but still to come up with a smart sentence comes up (with me) only when I have not written anything. The last post was sometime in july I believe.
So that indeed is long enough.
Another thing that peeps out of these words is about the topic that I am planning or not planning to write on. I can think of nothing right now.
So lemme write about how nothing apart from google has been happening in my life. I go to office, work, have fun, learnt a bit of fussbal, come back and go of to sleep.
thats all that is to my life, but I am enjoying it none the less.

let me postpone writing for now, as nothing good can be written now.

I think I could have named this post as - Nothing!

Sailing to Byzantium

2006-06-29T01:54:00.000-07:00

People who are expecting that I will talk about some nice, picturesque escape route to my dream land, like Yeats (he is the poet for this one, right?) might be disappointed. I am rather going to write about my very realistic, painful yet adventurous trips on the bus from Tarnaka to Punjagutta, where my office is. First thing I loathe the most about it is the beginning, where I have to get up early in the morning to catch the bus. After a brisk short walk I reach my bus stop and hope against hope for two things, one that the bus comes on time and two that the bus has just enough space to accommodate the lesser mortals like me, who can’t afford an auto to work every day. Alas! Nothing of the two happens and right then the adventure begins. I and the rest, boarding the bus from the same bus stop, immediately become enemies after having spotted the bus that comes blissfully unaware of the panic it has caused so many of us and merrily comes crawling at its own sweet pace. Now ready to charge, we rush to be the first one to get on to the ugly, misshapen body, which at this moment seems nothing more than a mass of hands and legs, a few heads all attached together. After having squeezed myself into that whole mass of distorted human body parts. I try to find an inch of space to land my feet. Aha! I have spotted one, between to fat women that will be pretty comfortable, isn’t it? But nothing, comfort is this alien word in this moving planet. After having stationed myself there I realize the mounting pressure from all four sides and curse myself to have taken the endeavor. But just then this sweet lady compromises and lets me have some more of space that she all this while had managed to keep to herself. That really did come as a rescue as I could atleast get my other feet on ground now. I realized that these girls, who stared at you with disgust the moment you tried to nudge, are so very comforting when they realize that the whole trauma is new for you. They make you get used to it. The trips that I began loathing are now very much a part of me . I do not detest the mixed smell of coconut oil and jasmine now.

I am getting so used to my Bus journeys that now I have begun to recognize faces, faces that smile, a happy comforting smile even in the most uncomfortable postures, when they see me enter that mass. Faces that perhaps will miss me, when from day after I won’t get on to the bus at my bus stop. Now that I would no more be traveling by these buses, I wish I had a few more days. So this one is to all the pretty, Hyderabad girls with whom I have spent quite some time now, in those crammed spaces, where inspite of being so protective of the spaces entitled to us by the goddess of APSRTC, we have been so very accommodating to others

Necklace Road - Seetafalmandi

2006-06-22T22:16:00.000-07:00

The old eyes watched the expanse of waste land that one could usually see while returning back from the MMTS local train in Hyderabad. The piles of garbage, the motley of dirty, filthy houses, rags covering the thatched roofs everything might have been so much home to the old lady sitting in front of me, with a huge bag of her entire world, her tired, dry hands clutching to the bag, had a story of hard work and suffering. The train crawled on to a much filthier space ahead, a serpentine drain, with the city’s bourgeoisie dump, had the stench I or anybody my age generally associate with utter poverty and grime. With all the fellow faces contorting from the rotten smell, I saw the old woman remained with the same expression, placid and calm. Her eyes had this still, sad look that had seen so much filth that, this present muck made no difference to her. These eyes seemed so withdrawn from the whole world, ready to face anything that life could possibly bring with it. I engrossed in the life around me, could not understand the depth these old soul had experienced. I with my urban, affluent experiences of life could perhaps never understand that life meant living for her, food meant survival for her, and home meant the world for her.

I did not know how she lived her life, how did her hands become so rough that she could no more caress the little child her daughter might have given birth to. I did not know how her feet had become so parched that it hurt to continue walking or perhaps the blood seeping out of the cracks did not bother her of the marks it left on her torn, fragile sari. It did not bother her that people in the compartment preferred standing than sitting next to her. But it bothered me with my urban, educated mentality, seeing her sitting alone, aloof from the whole world. But my presence added nothing to her comfort, perhaps she was used to such pitiful, friendly gestures, which only made her feel more degraded. I realized that her eyes did not complain of the life she had lived. Perhaps I had got it all wrong, I perceived her to be sad, and perhaps she wasn’t all that sad after all. Her eyes did not have sad tales to narrate for her grandchildren; they will be stories of the king who lived a long, lavish life, of the princess who fell in love with a young, poor guy. My station was arriving and I looked more intently at her trying to decipher more of her life and suddenly the train stopped with a jolt, the cannonading sound stopped and a small packet fell out from the old woman’s tattered sari. A cheap green, transparent polythene packet, with a small new plastic elephant in it. Perhaps for the new born grand daughter, she picked it up and wiped the little dirt that had collected on one side of the packet, from one end of her sari. Nestling it safely to where it was, she for once looked up at me and smiled meanwhile the train had reached where I had to get down. Walking back to my hostel room, I no more gave a look of pity to the people living in the slums just opposite the huge gate of my institute.

In Conversation:Part I

2006-06-15T23:46:00.000-07:00

Solan: hiya
Shyamalee: hi dear...
Solan: busy kya?
Shyamalee: No dear... not at all for you...
Solan: ok tell me your views on this reservation fiasco
Shyamalee: what to say... though as an instrument I am very much for it...I can also smell the dirty politics behind it.
Solan: leave the politics but as such are u against it. Do you think India does not need reservation?
Shyamalee: No... I think India needs reservations
Solan: that’s all na do u think sitting in air conditioned offices and thinking and writing about all these issues is a crime?
Shyamalee: No... What we need a healthy debate...? I too get quite a few mails against reservation. Most of those are based on stupid arguments. I ignore them like Jesus..."forgive them they don't know what they are saying". Of late, I am trying to learn the art of Non-violence... what I understood... it is a very difficult art. Hats up to Buddha, Jesus, Gandhi who practiced it to the core.
Solan: but then, the rate at which these anti- reservation mails reach my inbox from all over, I think any such callous forwards will have a repercussion in the ever so gullible Indian minds. Don't u think so?
Shyamalee: No... This type world is too small in this country. And it is not easy to penetrate the mass in this way. You can wash out only a few fragile minds... not all.. And yours is not among those.
Solan: no m not talking about myself. But others, and though the percentage of people capable of reading such stuff is low, but from amongst these only we hear loud voices na, the mass anyways is not concerned
Shyamalee: And that’s the point of debate.. What we want is let this unconnected mass be a part of it. Then, it does not matter which side they take.
The wonderful thing about this country is its democracy. In last fifty odd years it has only strengthen... I for think so. And the politicians have to connect themselves with this unconnected mass. So its not easy to anti- the policy. So all these noises will turn out to be meaningless at the most.
Solan: are u suggesting that these anti resv. Stuff might go unheard of
Shyamalee: Yaa.. There is no way out....
Solan: haaan? But don't you think the intensity with which things are going will bear no consequences
Shyamalee: This is my feeling... After working with the unconnected people...seeing policy and bureaucracy from close quarters...That’s where the irresponsible politics lies...that distracts the youth from healthy debate. But its, I feel only a transitory phase.
Solan: amen! What else can I say?
Shyamalee: You are not among the one to oppose or support.... you have the duty to understand it...though I know we all live in politics, but, our politics has taught us to be so..
Solan: then who does so?
Shyamalee: partly...activists...others include those fragile minds who are in the herd. We are supposed to learn things. Society to be precise..
Solan: humm
Shyamalee: And as learner we are open to viewpoints…Now you recall what I wrote on your feminism blog...I meant this...
Solan: humm