And thus spoke the heart...
Is it pure evil
Or is it simply being a devil
Trying to ruin my peace,
Giving me sleepless nights
Over what really is nothing.
Or is it simply confused,
No longer able to think straight.
Or is it, as some say it is,
In need of a good getaway...
And yet how do i getaway, and where to,
When there really is no escape
For it all is indeed, in the mind...
Questions that never stop coming
Questions that have no answer after all;
Questions that plague me
At the slightest provocation….
How do I know what my duty really is
And how do I know when it calls
How do I make the choices
I am not wise enough to make...
And is there really a choice
If this is right, and that is easy
But the right bears only pain
And the easy isn’t easy at all…
And what really is right anyway
If no matter how I choose,
Some one seems wronged always...
Why must this always be a zero sum game
Is this how you meant it to be?
Do your karma and leave the rest to me, You say
But then what is my karma,
For even if I choose not to choose
It is a still a choice made
The consequences of which I cannot predict
and yet must bear with nothing but doubt
Of what would it have been like, had I chosen differently…
A devil that riles me up
At the slightest provocation
Only to wear me down
Into defeated numbness again…
…The mind is restless, Krishna.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Of feet, shoes and medals
It was very early on in my life that i figured running was not my thing. I just couldn't do it, it was just too much effort. and so I retreated back to the audience and from there very quickly to the stage; compering was my thing. I loved doing it, and it was no effort at all. I must have been pretty good at it too says the track record, but that really is besides the point.
The point is I never ran. I never could. It was many years later, when I stumbled upon the reason. I have a flat foot. Completely flat. Not sure why it never prevented me from breaking a leg, umm metaphorically, on the dance floor, but it sure as hell was why I could never run. But then by the time I made this discovery I had graduated into the advanced stages of couch potato syndrome and couldn't care less.
Then came the typically romanticized ridiculous working hours of the Indian IT industry and any hope of me ever getting any physical activity other than walking between the fridge and my desk was lost forever. But I never got fat so there was hardly a reason convincing enough to make me walk, literally, the extra mile.
More craziness followed with MBA. No sleep, and endless internet.
And then something changed. I ran. And it felt like it had never felt before. Thanks to the one who introduced me to the possibility of customized shoes, the blessed soul whom I have now conveniently forgotten, I ran in my new shoes, custom made for my one flat-one normal feet. That was a year ago.
Today, 5 Dec 2010, at least a 100 hours of running time, many early mornings, many evening-dinner sacrifices and many sprained muscles later, I finally hit a milestone in my life I had almost given up on....
I got myself a medal for a sports-activity.
It was a hell lot of effort, I could have easily spent those hours surfing the net and walking in between to eat junk from the fridge, I probably would have had more fun going out with friends all those evenings, but running the last 500 m to the finish line after an exhausting 21.05 KM in scorching sun...it made all of that effort and all those sacrifices worth it.
No.23: Get a Medal for a sports activity: DONE :)
The point is I never ran. I never could. It was many years later, when I stumbled upon the reason. I have a flat foot. Completely flat. Not sure why it never prevented me from breaking a leg, umm metaphorically, on the dance floor, but it sure as hell was why I could never run. But then by the time I made this discovery I had graduated into the advanced stages of couch potato syndrome and couldn't care less.
Then came the typically romanticized ridiculous working hours of the Indian IT industry and any hope of me ever getting any physical activity other than walking between the fridge and my desk was lost forever. But I never got fat so there was hardly a reason convincing enough to make me walk, literally, the extra mile.
More craziness followed with MBA. No sleep, and endless internet.
And then something changed. I ran. And it felt like it had never felt before. Thanks to the one who introduced me to the possibility of customized shoes, the blessed soul whom I have now conveniently forgotten, I ran in my new shoes, custom made for my one flat-one normal feet. That was a year ago.
Today, 5 Dec 2010, at least a 100 hours of running time, many early mornings, many evening-dinner sacrifices and many sprained muscles later, I finally hit a milestone in my life I had almost given up on....
I got myself a medal for a sports-activity.
It was a hell lot of effort, I could have easily spent those hours surfing the net and walking in between to eat junk from the fridge, I probably would have had more fun going out with friends all those evenings, but running the last 500 m to the finish line after an exhausting 21.05 KM in scorching sun...it made all of that effort and all those sacrifices worth it.
No.23: Get a Medal for a sports activity: DONE :)
Saturday, October 16, 2010
The art and science of Writing
I write only as a hobby. I have never taken any formal training in it and don't pretend to be any expert authority when it comes to writing skills. But after years of writing, even if only as an intermittent hobby, I had a slightly higher opinion of my work until recently; when I did some research on the subject and was quite appalled to find the number of mistakes in my own write-ups.
Well, life's all about continuous learning, so here are some key findings based on my research. Most of these things seem common sense and yet, as I realised, are very easy to forget while writing. I hope the tips below help you. Feel free to add or correct; since this research is by no means all-encompassing.
Good Writing
The underlying purpose of any piece of writing is to get a point across. Good writing does so without putting the readers to sleep.
Good writing is often confused with correct writing: correct grammar, spelling and punctuation. Infact,at the heart of good writing lie ideas that are interesting and relevant; and the journey of writing a good article begins with identifying those ideas. So before picking up the metaphorical pen, ask yourself: What do I want to write about (i.e. what is my idea)? Why do I want to write about it – am I stating facts, providing analysis or trying to spark a debate?
Answering the above two questions often helps answer the third and perhaps most important one: who am I writing for? It is this last question that primarily dictates the writing style. An effective article is always personal and relevant to the target reader(s).
Following are a few points that came up repeatedly during my research on the subject. Keeping them in mind while writing will go a long way in producing an impactful write-up.
Tips for Formal Writing
Editing
For any write-up, editing is the most important part.
Resources
Below are some resources I found during my research. They provide examples, important tips and common mistakes made in written English. I hope you find them useful, please feel free to add to the list.
Grammar tips and common errors
Writing an executive summary
On a closing note, writing is a combination of art and science that rarely comes naturally to anyone and no one ever reaches perfection. But like most other skills, it can be acquired and improved through continuous practice. So keep writing!
Well, life's all about continuous learning, so here are some key findings based on my research. Most of these things seem common sense and yet, as I realised, are very easy to forget while writing. I hope the tips below help you. Feel free to add or correct; since this research is by no means all-encompassing.
Good Writing
The underlying purpose of any piece of writing is to get a point across. Good writing does so without putting the readers to sleep.
Good writing is often confused with correct writing: correct grammar, spelling and punctuation. Infact,at the heart of good writing lie ideas that are interesting and relevant; and the journey of writing a good article begins with identifying those ideas. So before picking up the metaphorical pen, ask yourself: What do I want to write about (i.e. what is my idea)? Why do I want to write about it – am I stating facts, providing analysis or trying to spark a debate?
Answering the above two questions often helps answer the third and perhaps most important one: who am I writing for? It is this last question that primarily dictates the writing style. An effective article is always personal and relevant to the target reader(s).
Following are a few points that came up repeatedly during my research on the subject. Keeping them in mind while writing will go a long way in producing an impactful write-up.
- Good writing has a clearly defined purpose. It makes a clear point and then supports it with specific information.
- The information is logically connected and flows coherently.
- The choice of words and voice (formal vs. casual) is customised to the target reader.
- The sentences are concise and precise. They say exactly what they mean and nothing else.
- For fact-based articles, move from the general to the specifics fairly quickly and reference the sources.
- For opinion based articles, pre-empt objections by building your case with supporting theories and facts.
- Correct grammar, punctuation and spelling are an absolute must irrespective of how formal or casual the article is.
- Writing takes time. Good writing takes even more time.
- Good writing also needs thorough research, even if its just a blog post. Most successful novelists spend years researching for their next piece of fiction.
- Finally, as my Professor used to say often, keep it short! If it isn’t directly relevant to the core idea, it doesn’t belong in the article.
Tips for Formal Writing
- Avoid jargon – especially in executive summaries and smaller write ups
- Proper formatting prevents jarring effect in the reading experience, and conveys professionalism to a great extent. Therefore,
- Use consistent fonts, justified text, page numbers and margins etc.
- Use headings, sub-headings and bullet points to give it a better structure
- Use charts for trends and visual-aid diagrams for complex concepts
- Use standard templates and company logos where applicable
- Create a summary for any report exceeding four pages. Write the summary after you write the main report, and keep it up to 1/10 the length of the main report.
- Organize the main points in the summary in the same order they appear in the main report
- Write simple sentences. Add supporting explanations and technical jargon only when necessary
- Get the summary reviewed by a non-technical person, see if they understand it and find it interesting
Editing
For any write-up, editing is the most important part.
- Revise the write-up at least twice. The first draft is always a work in progress.
- Take a break between two revisions. The length of the break should be enough to take your mind completely off the article.
- Print it and proof read it. Mistakes often glare back at you from paper
- Have someone else read it out loud. Many mistakes are picked up only when they just don’t sound right.
Resources
Below are some resources I found during my research. They provide examples, important tips and common mistakes made in written English. I hope you find them useful, please feel free to add to the list.
Grammar tips and common errors
- Guide to Grammar and Writing
- Common Grammar Traps
- Grammar Lessons
- Common Grammar Errors
- English Grammar Mistakes
Writing an executive summary
- Crafting a powerful Executive Summary
- http://unilearning.uow.edu.au/report/4bi1.html
- http://www.astia.org/resources/How_to_write_an_execsummary.pdf
On a closing note, writing is a combination of art and science that rarely comes naturally to anyone and no one ever reaches perfection. But like most other skills, it can be acquired and improved through continuous practice. So keep writing!
Monday, August 30, 2010
I won the ovarian lottery. I was born with no physical handicaps to a family of loving parents a little less than 30 years ago... and while I can picture my friends shaking their heads furiously at this, I dont have any mental illnesses either; well not by identifiable diagnosis i.e. ;)
I grew up in the capital city, the political hotbed and the centre of development , of the largest democracy in the world; in an age that saw unprecendented economic growth of the country and a burgeoning middle class: the target customer for some of the world's biggest companies.
My parents doted on me, and made every attempt to fulfil every whim and fantasy I had as a child. They put up with my childhood tantrums, teenage rebellion and even the detached ambition and extra demands I imposed them in the recent years. With every decade of my life, they just rose higher in their role as parents and put me before themselves.
Yes, I won the ovarian lottery. My past life karma must have been pretty good!
And chances are, so did you. Sitting in front of your laptop, reading blogs in your leisure time in a comfortable room with worries ranging from next pay raise to next girlfriend..chances are your story is pretty similar to mine.
And yet, as you & I sip our $3.50 Latte scanning the internet for our next purchase.... millions of children are starving in other parts of the world; their mothers forced into prostitution just to put half a meal in front of them once a day. Children for whom that $3.5 probably means 4 days worth of food. Children for whom knowing the alphabet is a luxury reserved for the rich.
They are children who didn't win this lottery. Children who are loved just as much by their parents as you & I are; but whose parents can barely give them anything else beyond that love. Children who grow up living with the harsh reality that love doesnt buy food. And that this world has no heart or place for the poor. Children who grow up either bitter or resigned to their fate, if they grow up at all, i.e.
And why just starving children, the world today is rife with problems, each bigger than the first, each more insurmountable. Corruption, terrorism, climate change, ethnic violence...in no particular order, each one of these problems makes this world worse with each passing day.
And for mere mortals like you & I, who are not the Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela or Mother Teresa of this century,...who like their money, conveniences and comforts of life too much to give them all up...the question really is, "Can we make a difference? Can 1 person who is neither a Saint nor a Charistmatic Leader, make a difference?
I don't know. But I think we can try. And I think we should. doesnt matter what is our personal motivation...whether its getting tax benefits in this life or good karma in the next...if it makes some one's life a little better, a little easier..if it can make some one's future a little brighter..then its worth the attempt.
And after years of contemplating, and waiting for the right time to come, the right amount of disposable income to reach my bank account, the right cause to fall in my lap, the right NGO to come begging for donation on my door, the right catastrophe to strike the world..I decided to stop looking for excuses and put my inaction aside.
Mom taught me.."Smiles are free so give them away"
I have finally decided to start giving them, 1 day, 1 small deed at a time.
Because not all of us can become saints and change the world. But may be we can become good human beings. Or at least we can try.
And I think we should.
Ed. note: The start of my journey is thanks to WorldVision India, and their Sponsor-a-child program that has over 25000 sponsors for the India program itself, a highly credible global organisation with an immense reputation worldwide; and a hugely successful program globally. At 600 INR ($35) a month, you can literally change some one's life. For more details, visit: http://www.worldvision.in/ (India site) , http://www.worldvision.org/ (Global website)
I grew up in the capital city, the political hotbed and the centre of development , of the largest democracy in the world; in an age that saw unprecendented economic growth of the country and a burgeoning middle class: the target customer for some of the world's biggest companies.
My parents doted on me, and made every attempt to fulfil every whim and fantasy I had as a child. They put up with my childhood tantrums, teenage rebellion and even the detached ambition and extra demands I imposed them in the recent years. With every decade of my life, they just rose higher in their role as parents and put me before themselves.
Yes, I won the ovarian lottery. My past life karma must have been pretty good!
And chances are, so did you. Sitting in front of your laptop, reading blogs in your leisure time in a comfortable room with worries ranging from next pay raise to next girlfriend..chances are your story is pretty similar to mine.
And yet, as you & I sip our $3.50 Latte scanning the internet for our next purchase.... millions of children are starving in other parts of the world; their mothers forced into prostitution just to put half a meal in front of them once a day. Children for whom that $3.5 probably means 4 days worth of food. Children for whom knowing the alphabet is a luxury reserved for the rich.
They are children who didn't win this lottery. Children who are loved just as much by their parents as you & I are; but whose parents can barely give them anything else beyond that love. Children who grow up living with the harsh reality that love doesnt buy food. And that this world has no heart or place for the poor. Children who grow up either bitter or resigned to their fate, if they grow up at all, i.e.
And why just starving children, the world today is rife with problems, each bigger than the first, each more insurmountable. Corruption, terrorism, climate change, ethnic violence...in no particular order, each one of these problems makes this world worse with each passing day.
And for mere mortals like you & I, who are not the Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela or Mother Teresa of this century,...who like their money, conveniences and comforts of life too much to give them all up...the question really is, "Can we make a difference? Can 1 person who is neither a Saint nor a Charistmatic Leader, make a difference?
I don't know. But I think we can try. And I think we should. doesnt matter what is our personal motivation...whether its getting tax benefits in this life or good karma in the next...if it makes some one's life a little better, a little easier..if it can make some one's future a little brighter..then its worth the attempt.
And after years of contemplating, and waiting for the right time to come, the right amount of disposable income to reach my bank account, the right cause to fall in my lap, the right NGO to come begging for donation on my door, the right catastrophe to strike the world..I decided to stop looking for excuses and put my inaction aside.
Mom taught me.."Smiles are free so give them away"
I have finally decided to start giving them, 1 day, 1 small deed at a time.
Because not all of us can become saints and change the world. But may be we can become good human beings. Or at least we can try.
And I think we should.
Ed. note: The start of my journey is thanks to WorldVision India, and their Sponsor-a-child program that has over 25000 sponsors for the India program itself, a highly credible global organisation with an immense reputation worldwide; and a hugely successful program globally. At 600 INR ($35) a month, you can literally change some one's life. For more details, visit: http://www.worldvision.in/ (India site) , http://www.worldvision.org/ (Global website)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
as today ends...
I love this time of the day. When the evening is just beginning to set in, bringing cool respite from the afternoon heat; the sun slowly gives up its harsh, piercing existence to adopt a softer soothing feel. Lights gradually start twinkling in the distance preceding the stars by a few hours. And the sky turns various hues of red: each a poet's inspiration, an artist's challenge & a lover's desire....eventually fading into soft blues and finally the impenetrable black of the night.I love watching the birds flying back to their abode after a day's hard work; its comforting somehow to see silhouettes against the backdrop of the fading sun...
Its time for the tired daily wage laborer to collect his wages and head home. He isn't sure if he will find work tomorrow. His life is not going to get easier, his future is practically non existent. He passes by the world of oppulence in which he has no share; for which he doesn't exist. But he isn't thinking about all that right now. He will place his faith in God and pray that he finds work tomorrow as he sets out of his shack in the morning. For now, he is just looking forward to his hard earned meal of the day and a night of sound, honest sleep.
It time for the working mother to take the train back home. She has a few more hours of hard work, there's dinner to be cooked, laundry to be done, groceries to be bought on the way, no one will offer any help or support, as she marches on from one expectation to be fulfilled after another. No her day is not over yet...but she isn't thinking of any of that now. She is just looking forward to seeing her children again.
I have always been fond of this particular time of the day.
When I was a student, often I used to study during the afternoon after school/college. But I could hardly ever concentrate. For I was always waiting eagerly for my mother to come home. It didn't matter that I was all grown up and she wasn't going to bring me something. It didn't matter if I was too grown up and wouldn't be going out to play once she got home. It didn't even matter if we had nothing to talk about and if I was going to continue doing what I was doing before she came; nothing mattered. She was going to be home soon and that always made me happy.
Try as I may I can't understand if it was her reassuring smile or the cup of "chai" we would have as went over each other's day, but second to the head massage sessions, this was my favorite time with her. And while the head massage sessions are till date mostly about catching up on family gossip, the daily evening tea sessions were more about discussions, and counselling. When my sister was grown up enough the chai sessions became a 3 member company, and just by virtue of her nature, much more filled with jokes & laughter....the seriousness of those sessions decreased significantly, the significance only increased.
Sometimes, after our tea session, I used to take my still unfinished cup and sit on the terrace and watch kids play in the park outside. Scrambling to finish their last game before night fell and their mothers called them back home.
It was my time to think about things beyond the next problem to deal with. Dreams. Ambitions. Idealogies. Philoshopy. Assimilate the 'just over' discussions with mom. Think about Life. And its endless mysteries...Sometimes I just stared into oblivion and let time slip by.
Nothing much has changed there, when ever I am home, its still the same routine. When I am not, its this I miss the most. This that cannot be replaced.
Yes, I love this time of the day. Because it inspires me as a poet, challenges me as an artist and fills the hopeful romantic in me with new dreams& desires. Because it reminds me of my blessings in life and how kind & forgiving life has been to me;. Because it reminds me of the most important and one of the strongest, smartest, most selfless and best human beings I have known till date...and how lucky I am that she is my mother. Because it reminds me of all the love & laughter I have in my life thanks to family & friends.
But mostly because it reminds me that there is joy in life; and hope; and dreams...and they don't lie beyond the day to day rut of it...you don't have to go anywhere to find them. They are right here. The smile of your child, the comfort of your mother, the food on the table, the love of your loved ones....And as the struggles of 1 day end, its time to unwind, relax & enjoy them...and let the heart be filled with new hope, new excitement, new eagerness for the next day.
For what could prepare you better for tomorrow, than today.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Traditions
Traditions. They are a funny thing. And a very controversial topic, I understand. Traditions are like non veg food. People who don’t eat it call it a violation of life, people who do...just call it the food chain. Having been on both sides of the table, I see the validity of both points. In places which are too cold or too dry to even grow grass, how can you possibly survive without eating meat. And in places which have a rich harvest of grains, fruits & vegetables, why would you eat meat??!!
And that’s my point exactly when it comes to tradition. Its all about context. Traditions, rituals, rules they are all made to give structure & system to a society. To prevent chaos & anarchy. So caste system was started to divide work load amongst different sections of the society. Even the Bhagvad Gita says it pretty clearly, that its purely work based. Not by birth, but occupation. But look at India today. Caste system is still so ingrained in the very DNA of the entire country that its tough breaking away from it even for the educated, so called “modern” people who don’t even believe in this system themselves; or at least claim so.
The politicians keep the system alive because it gives them votes. Upper classes keep it alive because it gives them, in their eyes, societal respect. Lower classes keep it alive because it gives them reservations. So in theory, everyone should be happy with it, isn’t it. Yet no one really is. Everyone complains about it. Because they are not happy with the privileges, societal or governmental, that the “other” side gets.
And to be honest that’s just a case in point. Any tradition, most traditions in fact, are designed to suit a certain time, a certain need of the society at that time. Once that need passes, they should be allowed to change. But more often than not, people just get too tied to their traditions to see that. They become too ensconced in their comfort zone to want to change. Thats the only life they know and they are afraid to step out. Fear of the unknown. And may be sometimes thats fine. After all they do say the known devil is better than the unknown one. But sometimes the unknown is not a devil and you would not know that until you stepped out & tried.
But such times and such traditions just yield 2 types of people.
Rebels who usually then end up going to the other extreme just to have their way to make a point; or just get fed up and leave to a place where they are not needed to conform.
Or ; People who are perhaps neither foolish nor courageous enough to be rebels; and hence find a way to compromise. Sometimes their dreams are formed from the early days of childhood by their parents to shape within the strict confines of their “social traditions” and sometimes , even if they dare to dream, they give them up at some point. To be frank I think it’s less cruel if they just don’t dare. Because otherwise they live forever with a wistful glance back at lost dreams. And while some find a way to be content. Others just become frustrated, spiteful and hostile towards anyone who has "more" than they do, more freedom, wealth or even..contentment.
But the worst part still is, that strangely enough, these same people, who lost their own dreams at the hands of outdated traditions, a lot of times, hold back the dreams of the next generation. In the name of tradition.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Rendezvous with the dragon princess
I first heard about Tioman a few months ago from my room mate who had gone there for a short vacation. A dragon shaped island in Malaysia on the shores of the South China Sea covered with lush, impenetrable jungles, smooth straight cliffs and giant granite boulders: it sounded nice, fun, and not more than a weekend trip. So when I got this email about a university organised weekend trip to Tioman at very affordable prices, I signed up for it immediately!
We left around 9 am Friday morning by bus and reached a checkpoint called Mersing around early afternoon. After leaving Singapore, the bus ride is completely along the hills, up & down, round & round! It was fun for me, and I was pleasantly surprised that no one got motion sickness. :P That was my first introduction to Malaysia. Mersing was our lunch spot with tons of completely new looking sea food. Vegetarians behold! There’s nothing for you except fried rice. Without eggs if you are lucky! :)
From there on it was a 2 hr ferry ride that started 1 hour late. That’s another thing you have to account for in your trip, constant delays. A great ferry ride later, where I slept, hogged on chips and made new friends, we reached our destination, Tioman Island. The first sight was breathtaking.
I instantly saw cameras in all directions as people started clicking pictures. The water on the beach was so clear, that we could see the rocks at the bottom. I had only seen that with fresh water rivers very high up in the mountains close to their starting points. It was UN-Believable!
We checked into a nice, quiet resort. Quick showers and off to a lip smacking barbeque dinner; erm for the non- vegetarians i.e. The vegatarians had veg fried rice with ketchup. And I kicked myself for having turned into one so recently, wishing I had waited until after this trip!! Arrgghhh!!!
Since it was too late to do anything that night, I had a nice quiet stroll on the beach, clicked pictures, spent time talking to the local guitarist running the 1 shack pub on the beach. His knowledge of English was very limited, he had barely heard of India but he was unbelievably good with Indian names. The only person from this part of the world who got my name correctly the first time!!! :D
The beach was small, tidy and pleasant. A group of tourists had lit a campfire. About 5-6 small fishermen motor boats anchored on the shore. A few wooden benches randomly strewn about to relax. It even had a swing, the old fashioned hanging from a tree branch style. I had the best time sitting on it, it was like 20 years ago, in my house..when my dad had put a swing for me & my sister in the house [ which broke when we both tried to sit on it together! :P ]
Almost reluctantly I went to bed. 
The next morning started early, with a nice "coffee & toast" breakfast and a short walk to the “rockfall”. Errmmm.... not much a fall really, just water flowing through a few rocks; but the walk was nice. Dense jungle, early morning birds chirping, the sound of a local villager gathering wood for domestic use I guess. And the sound of water in the background. Persistent. My personal favourite anywhere anytime. The only dampener was a big bag of plastic full of beer cans etc. left along the path, by a careless irresponsible bunch of tourists I suppose. People who really don’t deserve to be allowed in such places!
Next was a longer trek along the jungle with a few newly-made-friends. Steep rocks, slippery mud, its amazing how quickly the prospect of falling to your death builds camaraderie amongst perfect strangers!! ;) The trek ended on the other side of the hill, on an isolate small beach. It was beautiful. The kind that begs the question “if you were marooned on an island....” yes i thought about the answer and no i wont say it! :P
A nice peaceful lunch where the lady kindly made a customised “mee goreng” for me, though she didn’t shy away from expressing her pity & sorrow that I wouldn’t get to taste her delicious squid, and refused to take away egg from the dish as she admonished me “You need tasty food!” . Reminded me of my mother, and prompted me to make that very expensive international call to her! :P
The next activity was snorkelling. The idea of seeing underwater life is just fascinating. And the good thing about snorkelling is you don’t even know how to swim! Which i don’t . Well I do, a little bit. Thankfully it was n’t that sunny, so I didn’t change skin colors to the point where I might run the risk of my parents failing to recognise me! :P Unfortunately, the corels weren’t as rich as the ones I had seen in Krabi; not sure if too much tourism is to be blamed here too!
And then I realised I had drifted too far off and couldn’t swim back because of the tide and because my life jacket was stuck and my mask got damaged. For a second I thought that was it. and waited for my life to flash before my eyes...when a fellow traveller "appeared"to my rescue & took me back safely to the boat. Thank God for the emergency blow whistle attached to my jacket and thank God for that saviour , my God sent angel who saved my life and then vanished into the sea of life jackets & masks....hidden behind his mask forever, like Zorro, robinhood, and spiderman, a face I would never know but would owe all my life to!! :P
That incident would forever be known as the day my life saving gear tried to kill me!! Lesson learnt, don’t get philosophical when in the middle of the ocean! :P
We reached back to the resort by around 6:30 pm, exhausted after a long day of exploring! :) A long hot shower and off I was again to explore the local market street.
Everything is just one street, along the beach. The resort, the markets, the beach itself. It all 1 straight line. A few shops with touristy purchases; a couple of sea view cafe / restaurants, that street even has its own spa. And sure it’s a rip off..but after a hard day’s work, its heaven to pamper those sore muscles with a good massage! A good dinner, where my order of fried mix vegetables came back as boiled vegetables with shredded chicken & egg; followed by another stroll on the beach under a superbly star lit night. A couple of hours sitting chatting with my new-made-friends, which by now had transformed itself into a pretty cool gang of friends and another reluctant but exhausted night of sleep.
The next morning was our final day on this picturesque island, I couldn’t believe it was over already! Not before the hearty breakfast though!! Some quick shopping and we were on our way back. Exhaustion finally kicked in and I slept back on most of my way. We got delayed a lot by rains & traffic, had a nice evening tea & snack at a hypermarket in Johor Bahru, and finally reached home at around 7:30 PM SGT.
I was exhausted, but smiling. It was totally worth it.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Obituary
Yesterday, I lost a very dear friend of mine. He & I had known each other for over 4 years . For the past 4 years, he had been my constant companion. No matter where I was, or what I did, he always stayed by my side. No matter how busy or idle, happy or sad, pleased or frustrated I was, he was always there; comforting, reassuring & supportive.
For 4 years, we spent endless hours with each other, day and night. His presence never let me feel lonely. He silently stayed by side through all good times and bad and patiently bore with all my mood swings. One time I remember I spilled an entire bowl of hot cereal & milk on him. It was a mistake but it must have hurt like hell. And yet, he didn't say a word. I wondered what had I ever done to deserve such loyalty; and thanked my stars for getting it nevertheless.
But for the past few months, he hadn't been keeping too well. He was always running a high temperature and was always very low on energy. It was as if he needed to be on a glucose drip constantly to do even the basic activities of his existence. All his test reports were absolutely normal; and no one could figure out what was wrong with him. Though on the surface he managed to look well, I could see he was dying inside. Slowly but surely. He still insisted on being with me constantly and somehow I didn't fight him back. May be I should have.
And then, yesterday afternoon while I was work, he just suddenly left me. Just like that. Without a notice. Without giving me a chance to say goodbye. Me & my colleagues tried our best to revive him, but to no avail. I rushed him to a specialist, but it was too late. He was declared DOA.
I brought him back home with me. Protecting his non responsive body from the rain while I myself got drenched. It had been a 4 year long relationship, and I wasn't ready to let go. Not just yet.
And so there I was.
Sitting in my room, feeling completely alone for the first time in over 4 years. Helpless. Isolated. Disconnected from the world. I sat there for the rest of the evening staring into his face. Expecting him to blink his eyes any minute. My mind was completely blank. I couldn't think at all.
After a few hours of complete silence, holding the still perfectly functioning mouse & power cord in my hands, I said good bye to my dear old friend.
My HP Compaq nx6325.
For 4 years, we spent endless hours with each other, day and night. His presence never let me feel lonely. He silently stayed by side through all good times and bad and patiently bore with all my mood swings. One time I remember I spilled an entire bowl of hot cereal & milk on him. It was a mistake but it must have hurt like hell. And yet, he didn't say a word. I wondered what had I ever done to deserve such loyalty; and thanked my stars for getting it nevertheless.
But for the past few months, he hadn't been keeping too well. He was always running a high temperature and was always very low on energy. It was as if he needed to be on a glucose drip constantly to do even the basic activities of his existence. All his test reports were absolutely normal; and no one could figure out what was wrong with him. Though on the surface he managed to look well, I could see he was dying inside. Slowly but surely. He still insisted on being with me constantly and somehow I didn't fight him back. May be I should have.
And then, yesterday afternoon while I was work, he just suddenly left me. Just like that. Without a notice. Without giving me a chance to say goodbye. Me & my colleagues tried our best to revive him, but to no avail. I rushed him to a specialist, but it was too late. He was declared DOA.
I brought him back home with me. Protecting his non responsive body from the rain while I myself got drenched. It had been a 4 year long relationship, and I wasn't ready to let go. Not just yet.
And so there I was.
Sitting in my room, feeling completely alone for the first time in over 4 years. Helpless. Isolated. Disconnected from the world. I sat there for the rest of the evening staring into his face. Expecting him to blink his eyes any minute. My mind was completely blank. I couldn't think at all.
After a few hours of complete silence, holding the still perfectly functioning mouse & power cord in my hands, I said good bye to my dear old friend.
My HP Compaq nx6325.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I remember the first time I left for Singapore. I am not the crying sort, and I wasn't particularly sad either. But as the plane took off, for the first time perhaps I felt a pang of pain. I was leaving my home, my country, my family n friends for God knows how long. I had no idea when I would return or what my life in Singapore would be like.
Come december 08, and I was already on my back home, in the very first vacations. 20 fabulous days @ home flew away; and it was time to come back to studies. Only this time, I didn't feel strange. I was leaving one known country for another. Sure my family wouldn't be there but at least I had friends I was looking forward to meeting. Singapore felt equally home.
Things have taken a strange turn since then. So strange, that its almost funny. Now, when I am India, the life in Singapore: the friends, outings, the safety, the cleanliness, school, classes, everything seems like a fantasy,
and when I am in Singapore, its the other way round.
For some reason, nothing feels real. Nothing at all. And its probably not even for the country I am not in. Perhaps its also for the country I am in. At any point in time, it seems that I can almost detach myself from the world around me.....and almost see it passing by.
Talk about having an out-of-body experience! .. seems like I am constantly in one!!
And after a very long time perhaps, I am short of the right words to express this state of my mind....
...I think I need to belong.
Come december 08, and I was already on my back home, in the very first vacations. 20 fabulous days @ home flew away; and it was time to come back to studies. Only this time, I didn't feel strange. I was leaving one known country for another. Sure my family wouldn't be there but at least I had friends I was looking forward to meeting. Singapore felt equally home.
Things have taken a strange turn since then. So strange, that its almost funny. Now, when I am India, the life in Singapore: the friends, outings, the safety, the cleanliness, school, classes, everything seems like a fantasy,
and when I am in Singapore, its the other way round.
For some reason, nothing feels real. Nothing at all. And its probably not even for the country I am not in. Perhaps its also for the country I am in. At any point in time, it seems that I can almost detach myself from the world around me.....and almost see it passing by.
Talk about having an out-of-body experience! .. seems like I am constantly in one!!
And after a very long time perhaps, I am short of the right words to express this state of my mind....
...I think I need to belong.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Santro & I
I drive an Alto. And for all reasons, obvious & implied, I love my car. Its my first car, I had bought it on my own and recently paid off its loan. Its safe, convenient & dependable. And because its a Maruti, there is never any trouble finding service for it.
So why is this post called what its called? Well, Santro & I go way back. Longer than I first recalled when I thought about writing this post. About 10 years ago, when my father was planning to buy our first family car, I remember I begged & pleaded with him to buy a Santro. My knowledge of cars was strictly limited to their looks at the time. And I loved the way it looked.
But the fuel efficiency, sturdiness, and reliability of the Tatas prevailed over this unknown foreign brand "Hyundai".. and we got a rather ugly looking Indica instead. Well in all fairness, it has been a reliable car that has served us very well for almost 10 years now. But still, there was something about Santro that Indica didn't quite have. It couldn't zip zap zoom...
A good few years later, more constraints led to my buying an Alto. A car I fell in love with after buying it. Nevertheless my elusive affair with the Santro remained. My best friend owned a Santro. And since he was the one who taught me how to drive, I learned my driving mostly on a Santro. I loved the small driving conveniences it offered. The only thing he refused to teach me was to zip zap zoom...
Life went on... I was driven to my surprise birthday party in a Santro; was driven around the streets of Meerut trying to find the venue of a friend's wedding in a Santro, lost our way & took 100s of U-turns on the way to another party again in a Santro..the list goes on...
My driving skills improved overtime, and as I graduated from one level of driving to the next, I kept sighing wistfully at the Santros zip-zap-zooming past me on the roads. By now, confident of my driving skills, another friend also often let me drive his Santro, and I loved every bit of it. Its pickup, quick steering response, high ground clearance...yes it didn't make me feel as safe & grounded for some reason, as my Alto did... but as long as I got to drive it, I was willing to live with my fears :)
And then things started changing...I started getting annoyed at people with drivers rage..rash drivers who would overtake from the wrong side, who were nearly always speeding,
"Bloody idiots!!" I would mutter, and keep driving.
Until I started noticing something very strange...nearly all of those rash car drivers, were driving a Santro.
And yes, they were "zip zap zooming..."
Till date, the maximum no. of rash car drivers I have come across on Delhi streets are Santro drivers. And though that doesn't do anything to take away my fascination for that car, I guess it does say something about how easily people find ways to misuse power of any kind; in this case, Santro's quick steering response :P
Everything said n done, I still think Santro is an absolute pleasure to drive car,; my friends still drive it and my brother just bought his second Santro with my full support (err..I mean almost full after all my desperate attempts to get him to upgrade failed miserably)
Sure, Santro has its drawbacks, apparently its light weight body makes it unsteady at high speeds: well up until 120 Km/hr its fine and I dont know how much higher it can go anyhow..and how often you would need to / be able to go higher than that anyways!
& though I still haven't seen a color that perfectly compliments its design..all the colors it comes in are either too bland & boring; or just don't go with its design; I would still buy it any day over the other cars in its segment
Till date I have been driven around in a Santro far more than all other car journeys combined; given that almost everyone around me seems to belong to the Santro fanatic community; [ I would start a Santro community on Facebook if there weren't so many inane ones already!] except may be my own driving around in my alto;
And every journey with Santro is a memorable pleasure; and that is of course owing more to the people I am with; but at least a third of the best moments, including some of the very best, I have had in the past 5 years or so have happened inside a Santro..."Santro & I resonate at a certain level" a psychic might say ;) :P
So thats the unfinished story of Santro & I...the first car I loved in my waking conscience; the car that gave me my first driving lessons; the car that has given me unforgettable memories of wonderful time spent with friends & family....the car that I have never owned.
So why is this post called what its called? Well, Santro & I go way back. Longer than I first recalled when I thought about writing this post. About 10 years ago, when my father was planning to buy our first family car, I remember I begged & pleaded with him to buy a Santro. My knowledge of cars was strictly limited to their looks at the time. And I loved the way it looked.
But the fuel efficiency, sturdiness, and reliability of the Tatas prevailed over this unknown foreign brand "Hyundai".. and we got a rather ugly looking Indica instead. Well in all fairness, it has been a reliable car that has served us very well for almost 10 years now. But still, there was something about Santro that Indica didn't quite have. It couldn't zip zap zoom...
A good few years later, more constraints led to my buying an Alto. A car I fell in love with after buying it. Nevertheless my elusive affair with the Santro remained. My best friend owned a Santro. And since he was the one who taught me how to drive, I learned my driving mostly on a Santro. I loved the small driving conveniences it offered. The only thing he refused to teach me was to zip zap zoom...
Life went on... I was driven to my surprise birthday party in a Santro; was driven around the streets of Meerut trying to find the venue of a friend's wedding in a Santro, lost our way & took 100s of U-turns on the way to another party again in a Santro..the list goes on...
My driving skills improved overtime, and as I graduated from one level of driving to the next, I kept sighing wistfully at the Santros zip-zap-zooming past me on the roads. By now, confident of my driving skills, another friend also often let me drive his Santro, and I loved every bit of it. Its pickup, quick steering response, high ground clearance...yes it didn't make me feel as safe & grounded for some reason, as my Alto did... but as long as I got to drive it, I was willing to live with my fears :)
And then things started changing...I started getting annoyed at people with drivers rage..rash drivers who would overtake from the wrong side, who were nearly always speeding,
"Bloody idiots!!" I would mutter, and keep driving.
Until I started noticing something very strange...nearly all of those rash car drivers, were driving a Santro.
And yes, they were "zip zap zooming..."
Till date, the maximum no. of rash car drivers I have come across on Delhi streets are Santro drivers. And though that doesn't do anything to take away my fascination for that car, I guess it does say something about how easily people find ways to misuse power of any kind; in this case, Santro's quick steering response :P
Everything said n done, I still think Santro is an absolute pleasure to drive car,; my friends still drive it and my brother just bought his second Santro with my full support (err..I mean almost full after all my desperate attempts to get him to upgrade failed miserably)
Sure, Santro has its drawbacks, apparently its light weight body makes it unsteady at high speeds: well up until 120 Km/hr its fine and I dont know how much higher it can go anyhow..and how often you would need to / be able to go higher than that anyways!
& though I still haven't seen a color that perfectly compliments its design..all the colors it comes in are either too bland & boring; or just don't go with its design; I would still buy it any day over the other cars in its segment
Till date I have been driven around in a Santro far more than all other car journeys combined; given that almost everyone around me seems to belong to the Santro fanatic community; [ I would start a Santro community on Facebook if there weren't so many inane ones already!] except may be my own driving around in my alto;
And every journey with Santro is a memorable pleasure; and that is of course owing more to the people I am with; but at least a third of the best moments, including some of the very best, I have had in the past 5 years or so have happened inside a Santro..."Santro & I resonate at a certain level" a psychic might say ;) :P
So thats the unfinished story of Santro & I...the first car I loved in my waking conscience; the car that gave me my first driving lessons; the car that has given me unforgettable memories of wonderful time spent with friends & family....the car that I have never owned.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
a vanilla 27
I recently turned 27. Now, 27 is a rather uneventful, dry age to turn.
It doesn't have the excitement of turning into a teenager @13, doesn't makes your heart flutter with the hope of first love @ 16, you wont be suddenly legally entitled to drink the way you became at 12:01 am, @ 21 , no quarter life crisis of 25...doesn't even mark your transition from one landmark decade of 20s or 30s to the next....27 doesn't do anything. It doesn't give any specific reason to rejoice, or to be anymore miserable at getting old, than any other non-landmark birthday.
Its plain and simple, a vanilla 27, somewhere in between.
Nor was the celebration a historic event in my life. I spent a nice & quiet birthday with a few friends I met in between driving ( :O ) , and a nice dinner with few family members & cousins;
Like I said, it was a pretty uneventful affair, for a pretty uneventful age
So why have I picked this to be the year of announcing my age to the world, when I prudently didn't for all those other more happening transitions ??
The fact that I never in my dreams ever imagined turning 27 [ I For some reason I always imagined my life only until 25!] and its making me feel old beyond imagination..might have something to do with it...I think I am still in denial, that 27 years have actually passed by!!!
But I think its more due to this lazy sunday afternoon. It reminds of my school summer vacations, when all of us cousins would go to stay at our nani' house.
My nani used to have a big old fashioned bunglow in Delhi; just 2 big rooms, 1 huge kitchen, 1 big balcony and a garden outside the house. In one big room without a cooler, sometime with power cuts too, with only handheld fans to keep the flies n mosquitoes away we would all sleep next to each other on mattresses on the floor. Talking softly n giggling so those asleep would not wake up; Many names of our younger cousins were debated upon n decided amongst us in those subdued conversations; and much to the consternation of those younger ones, those names have stuck :)
I have a distinct memory of watching the sunlight flood through the iron mesh of the wooden frame door; the dust particles dancing in that light, splitting it into multiple rays..I used to wonder if they did it deliberately, and if they were trying to create a rainbow
I remember hanging by the huge main entrance gates, which was just the right height for us to grab its rails and swing; sometimes 3 of us on each gate as we waited for our moms n aunts to come from work to see us; running and clinging to pretty much anyone who came; the ensuing tantrums all of us threw at their attempts of taking us back home; and the victory smiles after our moms gave way to 1 more day of holidays;
I remember plucking ripe cotton & tomatoes from the garden with my nani, & climbing on the guava n mango trees; I remember the aam ka achaar she used to give us with food; and sometimes when there wasn't enough sabzi to go around; how she would make all of us laugh about it, and then cut whatever veg was available, add salt and give it as a special course of meal
I even remember the silly pranks I played as a child, and I never forget the "friendly" punch my cousin gave me on my frontal teeth because I told her that they were hurting too much.. [well of course they broke and left me with the permanently impaired dental state I have now]...a perfect example of how too much love n protection can be bad for health ;) :P
There are a lot of such memories that flood back on afternoons such as these as I stare out of my top floor sea-facing bedroom with a perfect view and I can't help reflect.
Simple. Idyllic joys of childhood.
Its been exactly 14 years since I spent my last summer in that house. 14 years ago that house was sold off. I remember the last time we had all gone to take a look at the house.....almost all of us were crying, trying not to let anyone else see. An imposing & rather hideous structure has replaced that house now. The house where my mom, all of her siblings, and all of their children grew up. I still picture it vividly and sometimes even have dreams of playing around in it.
Life has come a very very long way since then. multiple jobs, a handful of degrees, living in different countries, 100s of people have come n gone, a few great ones have stuck around...and though I can never recreate magic of the times gone by; life isn't bad at all. We cousins still stay connected thanks to the new age of telecom & internet; and we still love meeting each other whenever possible. All our hearts still lie with our nani; whenever we can, we go & visit her in her now much smaller house; that brims with the same amount of endless love & happiness.
so yes, at 27, as I graduate from B school, knowing that life will probably change dramatically once more, I get ready to shift gears once more..waiting for the next round of this roller coaster to begin.
And as I hope that I will continue to learn, grow & improve as a person; continue to strive to add value to people's lives around me; and that I will succeed in giving more meaning to my life & be blessed with the fortune of living out my dreams; I will save these lazy afternoons to reflect.
These lazy sunday afternoons that remind me of the magical times gone by.
It doesn't have the excitement of turning into a teenager @13, doesn't makes your heart flutter with the hope of first love @ 16, you wont be suddenly legally entitled to drink the way you became at 12:01 am, @ 21 , no quarter life crisis of 25...doesn't even mark your transition from one landmark decade of 20s or 30s to the next....27 doesn't do anything. It doesn't give any specific reason to rejoice, or to be anymore miserable at getting old, than any other non-landmark birthday.
Its plain and simple, a vanilla 27, somewhere in between.
Nor was the celebration a historic event in my life. I spent a nice & quiet birthday with a few friends I met in between driving ( :O ) , and a nice dinner with few family members & cousins;
Like I said, it was a pretty uneventful affair, for a pretty uneventful age
So why have I picked this to be the year of announcing my age to the world, when I prudently didn't for all those other more happening transitions ??
The fact that I never in my dreams ever imagined turning 27 [ I For some reason I always imagined my life only until 25!] and its making me feel old beyond imagination..might have something to do with it...I think I am still in denial, that 27 years have actually passed by!!!
But I think its more due to this lazy sunday afternoon. It reminds of my school summer vacations, when all of us cousins would go to stay at our nani' house.
My nani used to have a big old fashioned bunglow in Delhi; just 2 big rooms, 1 huge kitchen, 1 big balcony and a garden outside the house. In one big room without a cooler, sometime with power cuts too, with only handheld fans to keep the flies n mosquitoes away we would all sleep next to each other on mattresses on the floor. Talking softly n giggling so those asleep would not wake up; Many names of our younger cousins were debated upon n decided amongst us in those subdued conversations; and much to the consternation of those younger ones, those names have stuck :)
I have a distinct memory of watching the sunlight flood through the iron mesh of the wooden frame door; the dust particles dancing in that light, splitting it into multiple rays..I used to wonder if they did it deliberately, and if they were trying to create a rainbow
I remember hanging by the huge main entrance gates, which was just the right height for us to grab its rails and swing; sometimes 3 of us on each gate as we waited for our moms n aunts to come from work to see us; running and clinging to pretty much anyone who came; the ensuing tantrums all of us threw at their attempts of taking us back home; and the victory smiles after our moms gave way to 1 more day of holidays;
I remember plucking ripe cotton & tomatoes from the garden with my nani, & climbing on the guava n mango trees; I remember the aam ka achaar she used to give us with food; and sometimes when there wasn't enough sabzi to go around; how she would make all of us laugh about it, and then cut whatever veg was available, add salt and give it as a special course of meal
I even remember the silly pranks I played as a child, and I never forget the "friendly" punch my cousin gave me on my frontal teeth because I told her that they were hurting too much.. [well of course they broke and left me with the permanently impaired dental state I have now]...a perfect example of how too much love n protection can be bad for health ;) :P
There are a lot of such memories that flood back on afternoons such as these as I stare out of my top floor sea-facing bedroom with a perfect view and I can't help reflect.
Simple. Idyllic joys of childhood.
Its been exactly 14 years since I spent my last summer in that house. 14 years ago that house was sold off. I remember the last time we had all gone to take a look at the house.....almost all of us were crying, trying not to let anyone else see. An imposing & rather hideous structure has replaced that house now. The house where my mom, all of her siblings, and all of their children grew up. I still picture it vividly and sometimes even have dreams of playing around in it.
Life has come a very very long way since then. multiple jobs, a handful of degrees, living in different countries, 100s of people have come n gone, a few great ones have stuck around...and though I can never recreate magic of the times gone by; life isn't bad at all. We cousins still stay connected thanks to the new age of telecom & internet; and we still love meeting each other whenever possible. All our hearts still lie with our nani; whenever we can, we go & visit her in her now much smaller house; that brims with the same amount of endless love & happiness.
so yes, at 27, as I graduate from B school, knowing that life will probably change dramatically once more, I get ready to shift gears once more..waiting for the next round of this roller coaster to begin.
And as I hope that I will continue to learn, grow & improve as a person; continue to strive to add value to people's lives around me; and that I will succeed in giving more meaning to my life & be blessed with the fortune of living out my dreams; I will save these lazy afternoons to reflect.
These lazy sunday afternoons that remind me of the magical times gone by.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Thursday, January 07, 2010
just a promise...
i am an optimist. most of the times.
mostly i am the person who loves children,
flowers, birds & butterflies
the person who sees the beauty
in the smile of a first time parent
or the happiness of a student getting a good grade
the person who loves watching rain falling on the glass screen..
mostly, i am the person who loves to talk to her mom
every night about small things
& catch up on family gossip
over a session of head massage
the person who loves to tease her kid sister
laughing & fighting over silly stuff
mostly, i am a simple person.
who prefers to trust people
& trust their commitment, dedication, sincerity
you may call me too trusting, too naive,
& i think you are right
but i prefer to keep it that way,
it makes life easier.
yet, the more i see of this world,
the harder it becomes to remain simple.
because the more i see of the world,
the less i like it.
& the more disdainful i become.
everyone caught up in petty matters of ego,
ego that is in desperate need for attention,
immersed in conceit & greed,
lacking dedication n commitment,
ego that resorts to lies to preserve itself,
everyone engulfed in their own petty matters
of their own insignificance existence
don't get me wrong, i am not holier-than-thou.
i have my faults, more than i care to count.
& yes i do know some phenomenal people
& am blessed with precious gems as friends
my life is full of people who love me,
and full of opportunities & possibilities
yet, the more I see of the world,
the more I realise I don't fit in
& the more i see that i don't fit in,
the lesser i even want to.
& i wonder at times,
if the world will succeed in transforming me
into one of its own, filled with conceit & deceit
& ensure that I fit in & that I succeed
or will it succeed in turning me away
away from itself and all its promises
as a defeated mortal, resigned to my fate
with lost dreams of a lost future
or will I keep fighting this battle,
this battle to preserve me as me,
to find a converging point of give and take
of trust and mistrust, of love and hate
this battle to find a converging point
between my definition of success
& that of the world's
this battle with this world
this battle with me.
can i win this battle
or am i just a promise,
waiting to be broken.
mostly i am the person who loves children,
flowers, birds & butterflies
the person who sees the beauty
in the smile of a first time parent
or the happiness of a student getting a good grade
the person who loves watching rain falling on the glass screen..
mostly, i am the person who loves to talk to her mom
every night about small things
& catch up on family gossip
over a session of head massage
the person who loves to tease her kid sister
laughing & fighting over silly stuff
mostly, i am a simple person.
who prefers to trust people
& trust their commitment, dedication, sincerity
you may call me too trusting, too naive,
& i think you are right
but i prefer to keep it that way,
it makes life easier.
yet, the more i see of this world,
the harder it becomes to remain simple.
because the more i see of the world,
the less i like it.
& the more disdainful i become.
everyone caught up in petty matters of ego,
ego that is in desperate need for attention,
immersed in conceit & greed,
lacking dedication n commitment,
ego that resorts to lies to preserve itself,
everyone engulfed in their own petty matters
of their own insignificance existence
don't get me wrong, i am not holier-than-thou.
i have my faults, more than i care to count.
& yes i do know some phenomenal people
& am blessed with precious gems as friends
my life is full of people who love me,
and full of opportunities & possibilities
yet, the more I see of the world,
the more I realise I don't fit in
& the more i see that i don't fit in,
the lesser i even want to.
& i wonder at times,
if the world will succeed in transforming me
into one of its own, filled with conceit & deceit
& ensure that I fit in & that I succeed
or will it succeed in turning me away
away from itself and all its promises
as a defeated mortal, resigned to my fate
with lost dreams of a lost future
or will I keep fighting this battle,
this battle to preserve me as me,
to find a converging point of give and take
of trust and mistrust, of love and hate
this battle to find a converging point
between my definition of success
& that of the world's
this battle with this world
this battle with me.
can i win this battle
or am i just a promise,
waiting to be broken.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Its official. There is something decisively wrong with me. Why on earth would I not like the movies the whole world can't seem to stop raving about?? Last time I checked, I used to be a movie buff averaging 2 movies in the theater a week. But then..that was a long time ago, a time when I was earning, and movies were a great mix of unwinding & catching up with friends...Movies weren't really about movies.... but then as I said..that was a long time ago :)
Coming back to recent times, here are a few of the heavily over rated (in my opinion) movies that I have seen in the past few weeks
Paa
Seasoned stars, brilliant performances. and definitely a fresh break from the different flavors of love stories we have been fed to death! But the other day I got this email that said that Amitabh's make up used to take 8 hours to put & take off everyday. and that he was given special dentures so that the lisp that he talks with is natural. Great work! The indian movie industry is definitely growing up. But then, with such brilliant make up that you can't recognise the actor, or his voice...you can't make out his facial expressions, or voice modulation...his emotions are depicted more by the camera movements than by themselves, ... it just makes me wonder if this role couldn't have been done by some one else just as well. the industry is definitely not short of great budding stars these days, and given that Progeria patients usually have small & frail bodies, a 6 ft tall relatively healthy actor...naah!!
And why Paa exactly? I mean this could easily have been titled Maa as well...in fact given that the movie had more of mother-son relationship, than father-son; and the "Paa" doesn't come into the picture as "Paa" until the last scene, ..Maa would have probably made more sense. Or may be "Auro" , given that the movie is about the character more than anything else. Or given that the movie is about progeria, around progeria, and 50% of the budget seems to have gone in putting that make up to simulate progeria...perhaps progeria would have been the best ;)
Makes the whole Amitabh-Abhishek "father-son-son-father" tag line just a publicity gimmick to draw the crowds..ya ya you have to do that coz movies have to make money but I don't know..just one of those movies where I failed to see why people are going nuts about it...perhaps the Indian audience have such low expectations of Indian movies, that it will them even longer than the industry itself to mature into serious movie goers!
Avatar
James Cameron's masterpiece. 10 years in the making. An epic story! deserved to be seen in 3D.
Really???!! I mean seriously..seriously?! 10 years?!!! Doing what??!! the movie definitely had no story, no novelty, no originality of any sort. It is the East India company stealing from, destroying and colonizing the Red Indian villages... in the year 2154, on another planet where natural skin color is blue.
So the blue color takes care of racism I guess. And if definitely makes the cliched face and skin make up look more fancy. Honestly guys..really..look at the facial features, the makeup, the attire, the ornaments, the rituals, even the language of the so called Pandora Na'vis ...am I the only one who has seen too many old English movies about the Red Indians? Or seen Discovery's discoveries on the Mayan civilization?
Watching it was like, okay so they themselves got fed up of the theme of one American saving the Earth, so one American is now saving another planet. or may be it is the American who got tired of trying to save the Earth, decided to try his luck at another planet for a change ;)
okay, yeah the special effects were great, all those plants n trees with enhanced colors that reminded of the flourescent accessories that people wear to discotheques..and the trees that seemed to crawl all the way to your brain and suck them out to transfer to another body...all of that was great, even if a little creepy.
And why on earth..sorry, on Pandora, can human beings advance enough to live on another planet, set up huge research labs, even clone Na'vis & mine their rich reserves, but their aircraft radar technologies haven't moved in practically 300 years and still can't function in high EM activity zones?!
But still, 10 years???? If only a certain Mr. Cameron had paid 10% of what he must have paid to his special effects team, to his writers as well... they would have at least come up with a more original name for the planet.. rather than calling it "Pandora" !!
But of course, leaving all your thinking faculties aside, special effects were great, and my male friends did find the Na'vi tribal princess, a.k.a Zoe Saldana "too hot"! Although I would still say Transformers (part I) had better special effects, and Harry Potter has more creativity than Avatar, still in 10 years, at least something turned out right! ;)
Inglourious Basterds
Loved the performances! Honestly...the best acting I have seen in a really long time. Truly stellar...definitely Oscar deserving!!! I can't say this enough. A little too gory for my taste, but thats okay. People have a high apetite for this kind of stuff. And until the very end, I was feeling truly impressed. Until the end i.e. Until I saw Hitler and the rest of the Top SS brass gathered inside one movie theatre, and burnt down by burning a bunch of nitrate films. What an end to WW II. Simple, quick & efficient...why didn't anyone think of this at the time...Duh!!!!
sigh...what a waste!! Even if you must make a movie on WW II, which is as over used (understatement) as the first-love-lasts-forever theme in Hindi movies... and even if you must make a completely fictitious movie on such a monumental historic war, with no historical base whatsoever.... must you give it such a completely ridiculous end??!!!! the end..killed the movie..totally!!!!
3 idiots
Honestly, I have less disappointment with this one. May be because I hadn't even expected as much. I am not a big fan of Chetan Bhagat's work, which I think is the bollywood masala movie contemporary on Indian English literature..Indian English work i.e. for you can hardly call it literature. But still, nice, fun, easy to see, good timepass.
Amir Khan however, exceptional though as ever, I think is getting a bit too old to be playing a17 year old. About time he realised that. I don't know why in Indian movies the so-called stars live is such gross self denial of their age.
And delivering a baby with a vacuum cleaner...inspiring an engineering application as the writers / directors may have thought it to be... it made the entire movie fall back into the most ridiculous, melodramatic and nonsensical hindi movie scenes league!
And why is there such dearth of good writers in the Indian film industry, that they have to reuse jokes from email chains and mentos ads to make people laugh..is beyond me. Didn't the writer strike end like a million years ago??!! Feels like the Indian film industry takes the "reuse-recycle" idealogy, noble as it is, too seriously.. and implements this idealogy in ALL of it in its scripts, stories, music, and star casts.
To me personally, the "engineering" college set up in Ladakh in the end [ minus the 400 patents in 10 years for 1 scientist..yeah right! ] ... was the only display of genuine novelty; and an impressive one at that, ...at least I haven't found the original source of that scene yet ;) :P
Disappointed, disillusioned and seriously doubting my own capabilities of appreciation, I finally tried my hand at "Alwin & the Chipmunks II " . A movie that openly declared its ridiculousness. And voila! I actually enjoyed it! I had liked the first movie much better, but at least I didn't feel cheated. At least it didn't claim to be any more sensible (or senseless) than it really is.
Another 2 movies that I have liked in more recent times, Morning Raga & Schindler's list. Old movies, but I saw them recently. And Capitalism too [ except for the extremely biased view]
Next Stop: Sherlock Holmes..I still haven't given up all hope on me! I will try to leave my thinking faculties back at home though! :P
Else I will become an example of " Those who can't act, criticize" critics. :P
But to be fair, its great to see people trying to new things, especially in the Indian film industry breaking away from the endless love stories. And all of these movies are a great watch, at least once.... :)
Coming back to recent times, here are a few of the heavily over rated (in my opinion) movies that I have seen in the past few weeks
Paa
Seasoned stars, brilliant performances. and definitely a fresh break from the different flavors of love stories we have been fed to death! But the other day I got this email that said that Amitabh's make up used to take 8 hours to put & take off everyday. and that he was given special dentures so that the lisp that he talks with is natural. Great work! The indian movie industry is definitely growing up. But then, with such brilliant make up that you can't recognise the actor, or his voice...you can't make out his facial expressions, or voice modulation...his emotions are depicted more by the camera movements than by themselves, ... it just makes me wonder if this role couldn't have been done by some one else just as well. the industry is definitely not short of great budding stars these days, and given that Progeria patients usually have small & frail bodies, a 6 ft tall relatively healthy actor...naah!!
And why Paa exactly? I mean this could easily have been titled Maa as well...in fact given that the movie had more of mother-son relationship, than father-son; and the "Paa" doesn't come into the picture as "Paa" until the last scene, ..Maa would have probably made more sense. Or may be "Auro" , given that the movie is about the character more than anything else. Or given that the movie is about progeria, around progeria, and 50% of the budget seems to have gone in putting that make up to simulate progeria...perhaps progeria would have been the best ;)
Makes the whole Amitabh-Abhishek "father-son-son-father" tag line just a publicity gimmick to draw the crowds..ya ya you have to do that coz movies have to make money but I don't know..just one of those movies where I failed to see why people are going nuts about it...perhaps the Indian audience have such low expectations of Indian movies, that it will them even longer than the industry itself to mature into serious movie goers!
Avatar
James Cameron's masterpiece. 10 years in the making. An epic story! deserved to be seen in 3D.
Really???!! I mean seriously..seriously?! 10 years?!!! Doing what??!! the movie definitely had no story, no novelty, no originality of any sort. It is the East India company stealing from, destroying and colonizing the Red Indian villages... in the year 2154, on another planet where natural skin color is blue.
So the blue color takes care of racism I guess. And if definitely makes the cliched face and skin make up look more fancy. Honestly guys..really..look at the facial features, the makeup, the attire, the ornaments, the rituals, even the language of the so called Pandora Na'vis ...am I the only one who has seen too many old English movies about the Red Indians? Or seen Discovery's discoveries on the Mayan civilization?
Watching it was like, okay so they themselves got fed up of the theme of one American saving the Earth, so one American is now saving another planet. or may be it is the American who got tired of trying to save the Earth, decided to try his luck at another planet for a change ;)
okay, yeah the special effects were great, all those plants n trees with enhanced colors that reminded of the flourescent accessories that people wear to discotheques..and the trees that seemed to crawl all the way to your brain and suck them out to transfer to another body...all of that was great, even if a little creepy.
And why on earth..sorry, on Pandora, can human beings advance enough to live on another planet, set up huge research labs, even clone Na'vis & mine their rich reserves, but their aircraft radar technologies haven't moved in practically 300 years and still can't function in high EM activity zones?!
But still, 10 years???? If only a certain Mr. Cameron had paid 10% of what he must have paid to his special effects team, to his writers as well... they would have at least come up with a more original name for the planet.. rather than calling it "Pandora" !!
But of course, leaving all your thinking faculties aside, special effects were great, and my male friends did find the Na'vi tribal princess, a.k.a Zoe Saldana "too hot"! Although I would still say Transformers (part I) had better special effects, and Harry Potter has more creativity than Avatar, still in 10 years, at least something turned out right! ;)
Inglourious Basterds
Loved the performances! Honestly...the best acting I have seen in a really long time. Truly stellar...definitely Oscar deserving!!! I can't say this enough. A little too gory for my taste, but thats okay. People have a high apetite for this kind of stuff. And until the very end, I was feeling truly impressed. Until the end i.e. Until I saw Hitler and the rest of the Top SS brass gathered inside one movie theatre, and burnt down by burning a bunch of nitrate films. What an end to WW II. Simple, quick & efficient...why didn't anyone think of this at the time...Duh!!!!
sigh...what a waste!! Even if you must make a movie on WW II, which is as over used (understatement) as the first-love-lasts-forever theme in Hindi movies... and even if you must make a completely fictitious movie on such a monumental historic war, with no historical base whatsoever.... must you give it such a completely ridiculous end??!!!! the end..killed the movie..totally!!!!
3 idiots
Honestly, I have less disappointment with this one. May be because I hadn't even expected as much. I am not a big fan of Chetan Bhagat's work, which I think is the bollywood masala movie contemporary on Indian English literature..Indian English work i.e. for you can hardly call it literature. But still, nice, fun, easy to see, good timepass.
Amir Khan however, exceptional though as ever, I think is getting a bit too old to be playing a17 year old. About time he realised that. I don't know why in Indian movies the so-called stars live is such gross self denial of their age.
And delivering a baby with a vacuum cleaner...inspiring an engineering application as the writers / directors may have thought it to be... it made the entire movie fall back into the most ridiculous, melodramatic and nonsensical hindi movie scenes league!
And why is there such dearth of good writers in the Indian film industry, that they have to reuse jokes from email chains and mentos ads to make people laugh..is beyond me. Didn't the writer strike end like a million years ago??!! Feels like the Indian film industry takes the "reuse-recycle" idealogy, noble as it is, too seriously.. and implements this idealogy in ALL of it in its scripts, stories, music, and star casts.
To me personally, the "engineering" college set up in Ladakh in the end [ minus the 400 patents in 10 years for 1 scientist..yeah right! ] ... was the only display of genuine novelty; and an impressive one at that, ...at least I haven't found the original source of that scene yet ;) :P
Disappointed, disillusioned and seriously doubting my own capabilities of appreciation, I finally tried my hand at "Alwin & the Chipmunks II " . A movie that openly declared its ridiculousness. And voila! I actually enjoyed it! I had liked the first movie much better, but at least I didn't feel cheated. At least it didn't claim to be any more sensible (or senseless) than it really is.
Another 2 movies that I have liked in more recent times, Morning Raga & Schindler's list. Old movies, but I saw them recently. And Capitalism too [ except for the extremely biased view]
Next Stop: Sherlock Holmes..I still haven't given up all hope on me! I will try to leave my thinking faculties back at home though! :P
Else I will become an example of " Those who can't act, criticize" critics. :P
But to be fair, its great to see people trying to new things, especially in the Indian film industry breaking away from the endless love stories. And all of these movies are a great watch, at least once.... :)
Friday, January 01, 2010
But jokes apart, even as an onlooker, I have never ever understood the madness behind this whole wedding ceremony. Its like the moment 2 people decide to get married [rather usually their parents decide], 50 others...at least...get an electric shock. they are woken up from their sudden zombie state of minds... Suddenly a 1000 different task lists are made and tasks for the next 3 months are divided meticulously amongst different people...the joys of having huge families planning your wedding...
It takes endless phonecalls to sort out the color of the bride's mother's sister's saree for the function 2 days before the wedding, dont get me started on the bride's outfit..i wonder if Jennifer Anniston ever paid that much attention to her costumes! and 1 phonecall from the pundit saying the muhurat will have to be delayed by 5 minutes brings the whole world crashing down!sigh...
What's amazing is that this timeframe of 3 months doesnt make that much of a difference, I have seen weddings of similar scale being arranged in a month's time and yes, having a year to plan doesnt help either, it just adds more tasks to the list ??!!
And the meticulous planning and task allocation...it would put any corporate to shame if only it weren't for coversations such as...
"Oye the tent guy hasn't called"
"O nahi ji I had asked Mamaji to call him"
"O mamaji has gone to the caterer. He asked me to ask you"
"But I'm taking didiji to the Parlour to get ready"
" Your didiji can go to the parlour herself. You call the tent-waalah"
" Your didiji can go to the parlour herself. You call the tent-waalah"
..well you get the idea..
And then, there are the expenses. Parents save up all their lives to marry their children off. Specially daughters, but thats more thanks to the incorrigible dowry tradition in this country. [ It may be illegal for you to see on TV, its as real as the sun! It just takes different shapes, sometimes its a car, fridge, LCD TV, sometimes its gold, soemtimes its cash, usually its all these ]
If only I could get a penny for every time I have heard statements like,
If only I could get a penny for every time I have heard statements like,
.." They too spent 3 lacs just on the tent in their son's wedding reception"
"Aur Sharmaji gave his daughter a Corolla in her wedding"..
"and Khanna Sa'ab, spent 10 lacs over and above the wedding function"
!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!
Only 3 out of 10 of these people can actually afford to spend this kind of money on one function. The rest take all kinds loans at exorbitant interest rates, just to keep up to the "status" !! I have known people spending anywhere between 15-18 Lacs INR on just the wedding function. Even those who have never earned this much even in 2-3 years!! It is the ultimate "Keeping up with the Jones's" cartoon in the world! Not only are these weddings senselessly exorbitant effectively leaving the parents & some close relatives of the bride almost bankrupt
It is just such a big event, at times I feel its bigger for parents than the bride n groom!;they are a platform for everyone to show off all their riches, owned or borrowed; they are also a platform for you to prove your mettle of remembering names of, patiently smiling of the 500 people you have never seen in your entire life and will never see again.
It is just such a big event, at times I feel its bigger for parents than the bride n groom!;they are a platform for everyone to show off all their riches, owned or borrowed; they are also a platform for you to prove your mettle of remembering names of, patiently smiling of the 500 people you have never seen in your entire life and will never see again.
No wonder so many people spend their lives in unhappy, beyond-repair marriages rather than getting divorced! Fancy throwing away a marriage that follows from that kind of a wedding.
Maybe , as people have been telling me since I was 12, once I am getting married myself...I will get it. I doubt....
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