Random Ramblings

Open Letter to No One in Particular

2011-09-19T13:21:00.010+05:00

The battlelines drawn by the mad Madrasan has Delhi Boy’s jockeys in a twist but what got my goat was the term MADRASAN. How derogatory is that? Just when everyone south of the Vindhyas had nicely got used to being called MADRASI by Goldy and Pinky up north, we suddenly get relabeled like old wine in a new bottle -transported from familiar surroundings to new territory and for what?! So that #madrasan can trend on twitter?!! Nevermind MADRASAN sounds like ‘she who attends a Madrasa’ and could open a whole can of worms with its communal overtones.

For every Fendi-clutching, Manolo Blahnik-tottering, blonde streaked ‘Dahli-ite’, there is a long-tressed wise Madrasi who orders Zara on sale from Baby Uncle in the US. And for every tight-shirted Delhite clawing his way up the Harvard Review there is a Madrasi who breaks a coconut at a Rajni shrine. It takes all types except the average Dahlite will insist his dad sups with Manmohan and his Mummyji does her weekly grocery shopping in Paris. The average ‘Madrasi’ can only feebly wave her dad’s Phd degree and colour–coordinate her mum’s pattu saari collection.

It’s a losing battle; we cannot match up to the Dahlite’s standards. We cannot dream of purchasing Bentley convertibles and running over sleeping beggars. And it is all because amma and amma keep our salaries locked in trust funds that will magically crack open when the Doomsday clock strikes the n^th hour. We cannot party, drink (aaiyo) or hang out with unsavory types, that usually boosters your reputation no end on the college circuit, because amma has a GPS tracker embedded below our epidermis.

So what hope do we have of meeting the Dahli boy on his turf? So what if we can discuss rocket propulsion and the finer nuances of a Monet in the same breath. Or Jayalalitha’s gold bathroom fittings and the latest Sun TV serial for that matter - We can’t flash the cash and that’s that. Unless you count our big fat gold weddings…..

BOOKS I READ/AM READING: 'Alex’s Adventures in Numberland': I have never come across a book that made math so much fun and well…so idiot-proof;) Ouch. Unless you count Feyman of course. Makes me want to crack open Euclid’s Proofs..hm….now THAT’S saying a lot. Other Recommended Reads: 'Madame Bovary' (forgotten how many times I have read it) and the ever-entertaining, so, so brilliant Tharoor tour de force ‘Great Indian Novel’, not to mention Du Maurier’s earliest work that has mysteriously surfaced ‘The Doll and Other Stories’ (Dark, somber and a bit gauche but it is her early work).

PS: Hell’s Bells….I just googled ‘Madrasan’ on Google (Images Options) and no points for guessing what I got.

Back to work, Back to reality

2011-06-27T16:26:00.008+05:00

Of late my digital imprint has been a bit like my cooking. I consume more than I concoct.

I am constantly trawling the net for new web trends, social media bytes and general blather that will knock the socks of my employers. So of course I have no time for anything that entails typing more than 140 characters. And this is when I AM working.

When I was minus a legitimate job, my Facebook floundered, my Twitter hardly chirruped, my blog got bogged down and I dropped from the (digital) social scene like a fly squished by a particularly effective swatter.

Now that I am three days away from my first 100% fulltime job (since V came along) the moths are raising up a storm in the pit of my stomach. I would have stuck to butterfly flutters but that conjures up a vision of a picturesque meadow with butterflies gently flitting to a Chopin sonata. What I feel like is more of a ‘lost in a dark forest torn from the underside of your worst nightmare’– set to Darth Vader’s signature tune.

There are wonder mums with three children who juggle it all without breaking a sweat. I am pretty sure I am not it, not when I still have peanut butter under my finger nails as I dash frantically to catch that damned bus. Why use public transport when you can drive? Well, that is when I get to read for an hour uninterrupted. The old fashioned reading - minus the palm top/the ereader/the tablet sort and more importantly away from the three year old toddler sort. Though to give V credit he is in bed by 8.30 PM, giving me 2 hours of reading time at night as well.

Meanwhile as my clock stolidly plods on, I am back to scouring the net
1. To act extremely knowledgeable about the latest trends
2. To sound relatively adept in geek speak
3. Hoping like hell I am not out of my depth

BOOKS I READ IN JUNE
Devil in The White City (Erik Larson) : Stunningly researched and a ripping good read, if you like the mix of power hungry builders and gory serial killings that make Jack the Ripper’s exploits seem like granny playing croquet. Highly recommended and mostly fact, you get to know about the first Ferris wheel and the incredible, unbelievable effort that went to create the extravaganza that was the Columbian Exposition: The World’s Fair in Chicago of the 1890’s .

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon (Stephen King) : I ‘fess up, I am a King addict especially when he isn’t always off on his LSD trips. This one is a fabulous read - a girl lost in the forest for nine days who finds strength in baseball and her favourite star. Simple, lucid and yet frightening. I am not straying away from any path, that’s for sure.

The MoneyChangers: I used to be a Hailey fan but this is definitely not one of his best. Re-reading this after more than 15 years so it felt a bit odd. Déjà vu..

picture sourced from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:WorldColumbianExpositionExhibitHall.jpg

Wishlist for 2011

2011-01-21T15:54:00.004+05:00

It's that time of the year again when I dust off my little diary and figure out what I have been wanting to do but never quite got around to doing. The last time I did that was way back in 2004 Make a Wish

This list is more sane, more grounded, more mature me...

Travel…travel..travel
Go broke..go broke..go broke
Revisit Lakshadweep and get my %$^ diving ticket
White water rafting – somewhere!
Doodle, sketch, draw, Photoshop – forget the ebook reader, invest in a stylus
Try to coordinate holidays with best buddies more often
Study something but nothing related to Lit, too cliché
Chase up my publishing dreams - there is a BIG BIG market for toddlers, zone in woman!
Actually cook stuff more often from the recipe books I buy
Call a friend a week at least! Just like that.
Hell, get the ebook reader anyway

Books I am reading

Great Expectations because I love Pip, always did, there is something so pathetically abysmal about that thing called hope. Shantaram - the only Indian reader to have given this a miss, I actually borrowed this to see if it is worth the hoopla. Damnation I haven't been getting in much reading at all!

Backstroke in the Backwaters

2010-12-30T19:17:00.017+05:00

The Malabar Coast - where the backwaters kiss the sea and the coconut trees beat a tattoo against the sky.

Four long years in the making (or should I say dreaming) my ‘I-don’t-know-where-but-it sure- as-hell-‘aint-what-everyone-does’ Kerala plans boded its time patiently, nestled comfortably amidst my Lakshadweep diving and Rishikesh rafting pipe dreams.

A week of heavy duty armchair planning, a lot of research and route changing - the idea boiled down to this - I wanted to do all that Kerala Tourism does not promise in its relentless pursuit of luring tourists to where all OTHER tourists go.

In other words, there had to be this secret part of Kerala which the Keralites like to keep to themselves, space they can call their own and you bet your boots, we found it. Very ‘The Beach’ (if you remember the movie or loved the book as much as I did), we had our own adventures finding beauty in unknown places.

In all honesty, the North came about more from a sense of economy than adventure, but as my North Kerala thesis progressed, the sense of adventure sharpened all right.

You want to sit in a houseboat, we canoed across the backwaters. You want to sit neckdeep in tourists, we find beaches where you can swim where dolphins laze, we find an incredible sanctuary that take ecotourism and turns it on it head. You want a luxury resort, we find adventure getting to a waterlogged homestay - the view making EVERYTHING worth the effort. Imagine seeing a river and the sea in one sweeping glance. You want a regular hotel, we stay at a mussel farming resort feet away from the best pool I have ever swum in - the crystal clean backwaters that stretches as far as the eye can see.

I daresay in due course, the hardworking folks at Kerala Tourism will neatly package, label and sell the Malabar Coast - creating a santised package that will appeal to the Indian mind - houseboat (check), cruise (check), sea (check). But for the moment, the average ‘outsider’ only knows this part of the world by his palate- courtesy the Malabar Parantha and the Malabar fish curry.

The route was a simple, stick to the NH given how lousy (and this is hearsay) the local Kerala roads are. So we dutifully followed the NH 47 and the NH 17 through broad roads and tiny lanes and villager packed ruts just taking slight detours to reach our varied destinations. I plan to blog in detail about it, but that's for later and for a separate blog for the footloose and fancyfree who also happen to have a toddler.

So our car stalled several times and the shock absorbers are breathing their last. So I did not get a soothing hot oil massage, did not go shopping and never found anyone selling either coconut water or banana chips. So I drove two babies, one friend and her uncomplaining husband over the narrowest and worst roads ever to reach a Theyyam that refused to materialise but what the heck, this was my Kerala dream vacation and it was scrumptious, no two ways about that!

The only shopping I did, was to buy a Parambikulam tee and cap - and that is only because I fell desperately in love with the sanctuary which is always going to remain on my list of places to visit again and again and again - forever and forever.

I am typing this with my feet in the water, my fingers drumming the keypad in tandem with the sound of fish plopping in the water.

I slip into a reverie that includes buying property off Kasargode and setting up a homestay, I dream of hell, mussle farming - (according to farmer entrepreneur Mr Gul Mohammed it is easy-as-pie and dead lucrative). I dream way too much but as always my logical side rudely brushes the gossamer soft illusions and it is back to business

So perhaps I will sell Jet Wings or Outlook Traveller articles on offbeat vacations, maybe I will write that book or get back to illustrations but I know I won’t.

I will get back, settle down to being a small cog in the advertising machinery, selling stuff to people who yearn to be bought. I will go back to being an impatient mother and juggling all the stuff I HAVE to do with all the stuff I want to do.

But somewhere in the back of mind will remain the ripple of the backwaters where time refused to stand still.

===============================================================
THE ROUTE
Coimbatore - Parambikulam Sanctuary –Thirussur/Trichur (Punnarkotha Temple Elephant Park) – Malappuram – Kozhikode (Calicut) - Kannur (Muzhapilangad the Drive In Beach) –- Bakil/Nilswaram/Valiyaparamba (Kasargode)

PLACES WE STAYED (DESTINATIONS AND ENROUTE) - All highly recommended, reviews will be up on TripAdvisor and will link the same to my travel blog
Parambikulam Sanctuary http://www.parambikulam.org/
Lulu International Convention Centre, Thrissur http://www.luluicc.in/
Kappad Beach Resort http://www.renaissancekappadbeach.com
Kappad Beach Resort http://www.kannurbeachhouse.com/
Oyster Opera at Padanna (Kasargod) http://www.oysteroperaatpadanna.com/
GGT Grand at Gudalur (return journey) http://ggtgrand.com/

Toddler Party Do

2010-12-13T18:35:00.009+05:00

Birthdays. I do not remember when I last really celebrated mine or even ‘wanted’ to celebrate it. You hit the 30’s and it is mostly about the company of moderately priced alcohol and sympathetic friends.

Flash forward to Dec 8th 2010 and organizing a three something toddler’s party single handed. What does a posse of tots eat? Er do they eat at all? I contemplated handing crepe paper decorations as hors d oeuvres. If the kids were anything like the one I was familiar with, they would devour them in all shades.

I consulted the man-in-charge

Me: What would you like at your party
V: Mummum (food)

Me (sinking feeling): Er food? Okay….what else
V: Cake

Me: Of course, what kind?
V: Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate………..
(Devious manipulative mother pre-programmed kid to like her fav kind)

Me: Done, what shape?
V: Fish

Me: Fish?
V: Fish Fish Fish Fish………………..

So I downloaded fish designs, I made fishy invites, I cut out shapes that were definitely fishy – their fins were missing. Heck I even had a dot the eye of a fish game and a welcome sign on shiny blue paper that said DIVE IN.

I pondered flicking the Naval Ball paraphernalia which did indeed have a mermaid theme. Gave up on it when I realised the venue might be under surveillance.

I am not sure if the kids were impressed with my decoration efforts but the mums chaperoning them were. YAY!
Until one mum commented how strange my fish looked. BOOOO.

The mad rush for appropriate return gifts, the painful packing and marking, the guest list in a state of flux….all ok, all calm – until the caterer went fishing, the baker went hiking, the food didn’t quite put in an appearance and the thirty something small guests did ;(

Another mad rush to make teeny pizzas and teenier idlies, along with a LOT of hollering, a lot of driving and what can only be politely termed as a near nervous breakdown.

Well, the cake eventually put in an appearance. I was so thrilled I promptly stole the gems before the kids had a go at it. Hell I had paid for the damned thing in more ways than one.

I cleverly deputed two super sweet mom friends to cut more fish shapes for a treasure hunt game. But that never materialized - I was too busy fending off kids in much the same the average Somalian fends off persistent flies)

Kid: Aunty Balloon dedo! Dedo na Dedo na..DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDO DEOD DOEDO DEDO (holding on to my leg)

Kid 2: Aunty bubble soap chaiyye
(had bubble soap solution all over the place so kids could blow...well bubbles duh!)

Kid 3: Aunty apke paas hindi music nahin hai kya?
I was playing rock and roll much to the chagrin of assorted mummies. (Ladies, I didn't have the time to organise the Lil' Mermaid OST!!)

Kid 4: Yes aunty!!!! Aunty Sheela ki Jawaani!!

AAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Organising a birthday party with husband AWOL and in-laws frantically trying to reschedule flights to get to Sri Lanka Vs 20 laps in the pool + 5 games of squash + 8 km hike through unexplored territory + doing a 1500 word dissertation. That’s a no-brainer bubba!

As for V, he was too busy kissing the girls and eating cake……. my boy..sigh.

BOOKS I AM (TRYING TO) READ
Starting today, precisely at 9.45 PM after V knocks off, I am getting back on track...to hell with the Defence Services Staff College jigs and all the script writing i have been stuck doing. "I am retiring while I am at the top' - QUOTE UNQUOTE my squash partner. Reading 'Duma Key' (Stephen King) - King and I share a love, hate relationship and I CANNOT seem to end it. Want to re-read Mrs Craddock and Razor's Edge (Maugham), The World is Flat (left it midway a couple of months ago)., Shantaram which I have gotta return to Annie, Memoirs of my Father, gadzillion blogs..........my list is infinite - waittaminute that CAN'T be called a list at all...hm

A Preganant Pause

2010-10-16T16:42:00.008+05:00

What is wrong with the word 'pregnant'? It rolls off your tongue with a delicious twang, it is succinct, it is pithy and most of all you know what it means! Why can't a woman say it like it is? Is it a cuss word? Will God strike her down?? Why must she stoop to euphemisms and not make the matter-of-fact declaration.

But if we must stick with euphemisms then I infinitely prefer a 'bun in the oven'..or two as the case may be. Unfortunately all that carrying and expecting is still carrying on. And to that I add 'She is in the family way' which always makes me think they missed an apostrophe and an s (after family). "I am gonna get her with a shotgun and get her out of the way," said Grandpa grimly. "Darling, wouldn't a nice bit of arsenic do the trick - so much more quieter," interjected grandma gently.

Now, one can sidestep this tricky word as best as one can until one actually ends up being…well…pregnant. The first six months is smooth sailing but once you start resembling a cross between the Good Year blimp and the Michelin Man you can no longer avoid the inevitable.

Scene I

Social gathering with a bunch of coursemates: 96% of who are always itching to know when their non-baby buddies will be saddled with a baby as badly behaved as theirs’.

X “Oooh Finally!! Some good news!!!
Me: “How on earth did you know I got an appraisal?

X(cleverly rephrasing): I mean are you ‘expecting?’

Me: “Expecting….. another appraisal, I wish!”

X you carrying?

Me (waving hands in her face): Nope, not got a thing

X OH GOD!!

Benevolent me: All right, I will put you out of your misery, I am pregnant.

A sudden hush descends upon the room, the men look steadily at the cracks in the wall, the women squirm in acute embarrassment

Wellwisher (coughing delicately): Um…er.. Congratulations.

Strange, we can barely coin a term for what will eventually evolve into a baby but the moment aforesaid baby pops out the proud parent just cannot stop gushing about it!

Scene II

Show off Mumma: “Do you know what A is reading?”

Me: “No”

Proud Mumma: “Homer’s Illiad! Isn’t my kitchy kootchy gooey goo smart?”
Me: “Um he is 9 months old”

Proud Mumma (not missing a beat): “Oh he signs it – you know baby sign language.”

Me :”Right..and he can also translate Herbrew to Greek.”

Proud Mumma): Really, whose child is that… Mrs Sharma's i bet - that little ^%&$$%. Well, if she can, MY kitchy koo can do it better…

And the war of the mummies begins and you wish little kitchy koo was back in mummy’s tummy, back when mummy was too embarrassed to talk about him.

'ALL AT SEA' didn't Sink

2010-09-20T15:32:00.004+05:00

1,022 downed cups of tea, 940 chomped samosas and innumerable practice sessions later, the 66th Staff College Amateur Dramatics Society (SCADS) was ready to embark on its maiden voyage.

Launched on the 16th of September, the ‘naughtical’ comedy of errors, ‘ALL AT SEA’, saw fairly smooth sailing. My judgment criterion being the loud guffaws (of the men) and the more subdued giggles of their better halves

Loosely based on the mid-20th century play ‘Middlewatch’, ALL AT SEA is set onboard INS Nishaan where a party is being held to mark the culmination of the International Fleet Review. As the night progresses, the singularly mismatched set of officers are forced to grapple with unexpected overnight visitors in the form of two ladies and one crusty admiral. Add to it one grouchy chaperon, a domineering wife, a bumbling petty officer and a past that refuses to go away - and you have the perfect recipe for disaster.

The play ran to a packed house... well ahem...truth be told we had a captive audience - every officer worth his epaulets had to attend. Nonetheless it was an incredible experience and my first at helping script a stage show - worlds apart from corporate videos, AVs and Gabbar virals:)

Unfortunately there were no scandals to speak of, no torrid affairs and no heavy flirting, so all in all we were a fairly dull lot but heck we had fun, and in retrospect even the 2 AM edit of the script (that almost resulted in bloody murder ) was pretty darned funny.

Men Get a Taste of It!

2010-07-20T14:41:00.002+05:00

DWellington!

2010-07-06T15:23:00.005+05:00

We landed in Coimbatore - in anticipation of a pleasant meandering drive that would afford us fabulous views and even more fabulous opportunities to make our less blessed pals feel suitably jealous.

So, of course, the car did not arrive. It couldn’t - because our carefully laid plans had to go waste. I mean, what is the point of all that planning unless you indulge in a spot of self-commiseration?

Our car stayed stubbornly in the car carrier that had apparently been whisked off the face of the planet by forces unknown. All attempts to contact the aforesaid carrier having failed, we comforted ourselves with the thought that our car was getting the fabulous ’ride’ with a view from the exosphere thrown in for good measure.

Being the means to further intergalactic ties made us uncomplainingly bear the brunt of the merciless C sun, haggle with cranky cabbies and finally set off to Conoor. and then onwards to the Defence Services Staff College (Aka DSCC).

Arrive we did as did a weird demand – the driver demanded three dollars. Hmm…was the esteemed staff college a country upon itself, did it have its own government, its own currency and its own strange language, I marveled.

Apparently it was the latter.Three Dollars = Three Bottles. Bottles of Pril? Unfortunately not.

We, as faujis or navellas, who for all purposes sail on rivers of rum, bath in beer and wallow in whisky should act as benefactors, sharing our god given bounty with dhobis, gardeners and drivers alike. That was an unwritten albeit forced rule that we were being inculcated into. And as students are wont to do, we broke the rule.

We have been parting with hard cash and parting with gardeners ever since. Well meaning folk advise me to bottle up my feelings about the dollar but honestly this parallel currency is enough to make me take to the bottle.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You know you are Dwelling in Wellington when

Saris are de’ riguer - but can never really expects Mrs Navy and Mrs Airforce to wear one

One is supposed to cast their eyes down before the powers that be (and their better halves) lest in case they slice off your arms for dare looking up ;).

Hobby classes like flower making and cutlery setting are what marks out the lady from the badminton raquet toting, hike-loving rabble (which for the moment only consists of me).

Cocktail Parties are all about empty conversations and emptier tummies. And to think of the precious minutes spent dolling up for that!

The handwritten applications is the way to go, the computer is apparently only for student officers to check the LAN.

Every officer is a golfer or to put it more accurately wants to play golf.

Every Mrs Officer wants to learn SOMETHING at Wellington (to keep their husbands' company or do I smell the desperation of boredom?) Honestly, why don’t you just enjoy the ‘salubrious climes’ ladies?

We always seem to be going in 'semi-circles' (Syndicate parties anyone) and never full circle, but it is all so very gorgeous, it doesn’t really matter.

Why the Bank of India (Hoarding) Campaign Sucks

2010-03-23T12:01:00.013+05:00

"The best conversations are when SHE listens to what you are not saying.”
- Bank of India

If that isn’t the most lame, most ridiculous copy I have read in ages...

The sisterhood operates on a subterranean frequency that only picks up what he doesn’t say. If we actually waited for him to say anything…. there would be precious little to listen to. And then WHAT would we whine about?

Woman: “Do I look fat in this?”
Guy: aaah..
Woman: “You said large, I heard you!! You think I am a blimp! You hate me! I know!! You think Sonia has a better body. I saw you giving her the eye at that party! Since when have you been sleeping with her, you two-timing bastard?!”

Woman: “Can we go out for an arty-farty installation at the crack of dawn tomorrow?”
Guy:...
Woman: “We never go out anywhere. You never want to be seen with me. Is it because of the two kilos I put on? You think I am a blimp! You hate me! I know!!!You think Sonia has a better body etc..etc…bastard!”

"The best conversations are when HE listens to what you are not saying."

Substitute She = He and this 'conversation' starts looking up

- Guy actually weans himself off the couch/TV/Wii
- Guy actually pays attention to something that is beyond his realm of immediate interest
- Guy actually cares enough to listen and anticipate what his partner’s unspoken desires/needs.
- Woman is actually quiet

On a more positive and less misogynistic note, I got FOUR pairs of shoes in a size 9-10 at the fantafab Metro Sale. None pinched, all fitted - I couldn’t believe my toes.

BOOKS I HAVE BEEN READING (AND RE-READING)
Finished a re-re-re-read of Alice and Through the Looking Glass (This time with annotations that were most enlightening.) AND NOPE I haven't seen the movie yet.

Reading Ray Bradbury’s kitsch sounding (but absolutely fabulous) ‘Zen and the Art of Writing’ while on the move. At home I tote tomes of the Millennium Series room to room (Book Two - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). Feeling a bit gypped as I got stuck with two disappointing reads- Boy (Roald Dahl) and Connelly's latest Nine Dragons. I am not too sure what I wanted BOY to be – it was surprisingly benign and almost laconic…where was the maliciousness, where was the wit??? And how did Dahl churn out kiddie books and very adult books simultaneously? I admire that, I really do!

Then again had the pleasant fortune of discovering a super read -Rachel's Holiday (Marian Keyes). While both the cover and the author's name are unquestionably puke worthy, the book is bloody hilarious. I loved it and never mind the stupid mushy ending. Recommended read for deluded substance abuse addicts of all ages. Me? I crave chocolate and I have never denied that;)

The Feat of Shoe Shopping

2009-09-14T18:19:00.008+06:00

The blogging and microblogging world is atwitter about Lizzie Miller’s little paunch and presumably thousands of women are shrugging off their tummy corsets as they gleefully embrace their lovehandles in public (and swear off the samosas in private).

Now I am all for the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty and Glamour’s teeny-weeny attempt at representing an unbelievably gorgeous girl with believable body fat. Hmmm..but that is probably because I am no model and nowhere close to the coveted Runaway size zero.

Even as bloggers take up the cudgels for the regular gal, decent sized haute couture, believable bods and non-airbrushed airheads, there is nary a voice that fights for the cause of…horrors..women with gigantic feet.

Women who never get shoes in a size 8 unless they rummage in the men’s section, women who have to go around looking like clods because all they get are clods, women who fantasize about squeezing their bony, chubby, scrawny, fat and oversized feet into a dainty pair of Jimmy Choos, women who hate shopping for shoes because there is always that salesguy who dismisses you, and your ugly tootsies, with a “Sorry Madam, yeh apke size mein nahin milega”.

Right, so I am 5’7” and thereabouts. I am not expected to get into a size 6. Add to that a hereditary bone that juts out and I am doomed for life. Maybe I should take up the cause of women who are discriminated against on account of their (non self-imposed) choice in footwear.

If you are a few kilos overweight you can work towards reducing the fat but the only way I can aspire to a size 7 style is by amputating my toes.

Just a Disconnect

2009-09-09T11:42:00.005+06:00

I keep promising myself that I will make a post at least once a week – preferably during office hours. Unfortunately, I am a (self-imposed) social networking pariah. I am unabashedly not addicted to FB, I Stumble Upon dazzling finds that I promptly forget to share with the world. And ahem.. I am a tweet-twit.

Now, the irony of it is I work for one of India’s premier digital agencies and suggest SNS ideas on a daily basis to brands desperate to google, tweet, scrap, stumble, digg and connect with India’s whatever million connected youth. In other words, I have unlimited access to everything…and I am pretty sure that includes porn. But that’s just it, when you have too much of a good thing, you are really not all that interested:)

And when I get home, feed, bathe and make V sleep, all I want to do is snuggle in with a good read.

BOOKS I AM READING
The terribly dull ‘VOID MOON’ by Michael Connelly. I like my occasional psychotic killer who murders with clinical detachment but I do so like a good chase– VM is too technical and too trigger happy. Boring.
The fairly entertaining ‘ELEPHANTA SUITE (Paul Theroux) The phirang’s eye for embarrassing details that we Indians resolutely ignore. Nicely written and chiefly wins on account of the fact that the author dishes out the dirt on stuff other than roadside bowel movements.
Currently reading BEING INDIAN (Pavan K Varma). Fairly insightful and a darned good read, it has some pretty hilarious accounts and anecdotes. Eg. The priests of the Savitri Devi temple (Pushkar) demanding alimony from the nearby Brahma temple on the grounds that the Creator ‘divorced’ the goddess and so the priests must have a share in the Brahma temple’s earnings.
Have ‘KAFKA ON THE SHORE’ next on my list along with a bunch of old classics I intend revisiting (IVANHO, GREAT EXPECTATIONS).

From Narayan to Fitzgerald

2009-01-09T16:42:00.005+06:00

Amidst the murky doings of Ramalinga Raju and co. there is a faint sliver of light (which unfortunately does nothing to dispel the financial gloom). The man is a poet! Or, at least, aspires to poetic sensibilities. After all, how many of us, whist disclosing our dark dank deeds, would pepper our confession with evocative wordplay such as 'riding a tiger.....'??

A prominent economist pointed out the Satyam Chairman's letter was very 'Keats-like'. I can't get it out of my head that Raju is an RK Narayan fan. When I read his condensed confession, the visual of the reclusive Swami's chatty pet tiger ('Tiger for Malgudi') immediately sprang to mind.

Narayan's books' appeal lies in its austerity. He never uses clunky words that have his readers thumbing feverishly through a dictionary, his plot is never convoluted. Instead his story simply flows, bubbling over like a happy brook from one quirky chapter to the next.

My Narayan favourite remains to this day, 'Swami and Friends' - a dog-eared 24 year old copy of which is still one of my most treasured possessions. It is a delightful chronicle of a child's innocence and his growing years - before the Adrian Mole hormones set in. Most adults see it as a chronice of a childhood lost.

As my mommy pal Swati puts it, kids no longer enjoy the simple pleasures of life, they are way too materialistic. But sometimes when I see a streak of adventure and the thirst for an imaginative tale, I know all is well with the world. But these instances are far and few and which is perhaps why I hate the damned television. And why I haven't yet plopped my one-year old in front of it and hopefull never wi ll. Or at least, until he gets hooked. God give me the strength to hold out:)

Books I am reading :: Mostly Fitzgerald.
After re-reading 'Great Gatsby' for the 4th time (Can ANYONE describe the play of light and shadows as well as F. Scott Fitzgerald???!!), I moved on to the intriguing short story collection 'Diamond as Big as the Ritz' ('Bernice Bobs Her Hair' being the pick of the crop...pun intended). I heard about the movie version of 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button' and scoured the net to pick up a free copy of Fitzgerald's short story here. And of course I spent an unpleasant half-n-hour dwelling over Mrs. Button's labor pains. Just started 'Tender is the Night' unfortunately the blurry penguin print is getting to be a regular eyesore.

After 'Making a Mango Whistle' (a so-so children's version of 'Pathar Panchali') I am confident there are Apus (and Swaminathans) all around us if we only make the effort to get to know them. True, they might not see the beauty in a budding leaf or try to create telegraph wires out of vines but nonetheless.

When it comes to children, yours truly remains a resolute optimist.

Light Up

2008-10-30T11:48:00.000+06:00

Back from a Baby Break

2008-05-06T16:57:00.004+06:00

It has been 5 months since Ved popped out (Dec 8th) and although the baby blues passed me by, I have been pushing (pun intended) a lot of things on the backburner – this blog, repotting my 30 odd plants, scraping together my big book idea, plodding through Roberto Calasso. .......

Babies are surprisingly non-complex. You have to figure out the signals, once you crack that you are on a roll. Babies come precoded and it is just a matter of time before you break it down into the basics – need to poop, need to eat, need to zzz. Funny, I never thought I would enjoy being a mum but I love it, every minute of it, even the sleepless minutes.

Baby Conversation #1
Me: He looks so cute in that weird outfit
Well-meaning relative: No no don’t say that, drishti aango (aka the evil eye)
Me (rephrasing): He looks like a monkey in that weird outfit
Well-meaning relative: How can you say that about your own child
Hmm

Weird Fact: Having a baby the natural route minus drugs is JUST like, pardon my French, taking a dump. I swear! Heck when the nurse was asking me to give the ol’ heave ho she explicitly asked me to “pass motions”..amidst the haze of sweet pain you wonder - "Does she know which way is the exit?"

On Reading
Do post pregnant women dumb down their reads? According to a Telegraph UK survey, they do. Brit mommies toss ponderous biographies in favour of frothy flakey chick lit. Hallelujah so I haven’t scraped the bottom of the barrel yet! Post pregnancy I have shamelessly devoured pulp fiction but only of the detective thriller variety – Harlan Coban and Michael Connelly. Thanks Vivek!!Nonetheless I intend improving my reads once I successfully manage to juggle the pooping-peeing-eating sessions, the pram strolls, the swimming, the cooking and the work (Maternity leave is over, woe is me!)

Sleeping with Shakespeare

2007-09-13T16:17:00.000+06:00

What is wrong with the word 'pregnant' - it rolls off your tongue with a delicious twang, it is succinct, it is pithy and most of all you know what it bloody means! Why can't a woman say it like it is? Why must she stoop to euphemisms and not make the matter-of-fact declaration 'I am pregnant'. Is that a cuss word? Will God strike her down?? Or does the P-word shrivel sensitive high bred ears? I am not sure but honestly 'I am carrying' and 'I am expecting' are so totally half-assed. Er Carrying what? A lotta to the nearest field???

Now I infinitely prefer a 'bun in the oven'..or two as the case may be. It appeals to my Wilkie Collins/Edith Wharton/Austen sensibilities and is vague enough to keep the less informed in a haze of ignorance. But you NEVER get to hear that. I have heard it only once. But all that carrying and expecting is still carrying on. And to that I add my latest gem 'She is in the family way'. I should hope so, it is not pleasant having a child out of wedlock.

At the risk of sounding self-centred, I cleared my MA Lit with a first div! Huzzah! On a sort of related note, and this was before my results were declared, I have been going to bed with Shakespeare. Eight pages down 'Taming of the Shrew' and I sleep like a babe. SS has this soporific, lulling effect but then I am still on the comedies :)

BOOKS I AM READING

My vote for the most horrendous book of 2007 or at least read in the year 2007. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. A pretentious, pompous, lame attempt at merging a travelogue with a thriller Kostova falls flat on both counts. Dubbed as a 'chilling thiller' - it is about as chilling as yesteday's pudding spilt on the tarmac. Appallingly silly not to mention tiresome, I have never read vampire lore this asinine and my non-fictional book on Vlad the Impaler positively gallops after this bit of plodding drivel. The days of judging a book by its reviews are long gone. What beats me is how Kostova wangled those dazzling recommendations.

Offsetting this canker, is RK Laxman and his quirky autobiography: 'The Tunnel of Time', if you enjoyed Narayan's 'Malguidi Days', you can trace his inspiration from Laxman's life. However the best books I have read over the past month are definitely the 'Girl who Played Go' and 'The Comfort Woman' (See previous posts).

The Post Secret Movie

2007-08-17T23:48:00.000+06:00

By far the best website I have ever visited, and keep visiting - they are out with a fabulous mini movie on YouTube. I like to imagine everyone has a secret that they nurse and nurture, confront and eventually release - at some point.

About 10 years ago I got a call from a random stranger who picked out a number from a phone book. Or so I figured. He was depressed and suicidal and just wanted to talk to someone, I do not remember what he said or how long he spoke. All I remember was the thumping of my heart, I was scared witless. After what seemed like ages, he thanked me politely and hung up. That's it.

I want to think he is still around.

Cick here for the Post Secret Mini Movie on YouTube
Or visit http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com/

People are a whole lot braver than we give them credit for.

Ditzy in Delhi

2007-08-11T13:57:00.000+06:00

I wish I was one of those prolific writers brimming with inspiration. Or then, perhaps, the more common species of pathetic blogger who airs out her every grievance. But there you go, here I am – deliciously uninspired and plain lazy.

1. My Delhi stint is proving to be a whole lot more tiring than I bargained for. Been here for just 2 ½ days and I have broadened my horizons by learning -

2. More than 2 people stumble across my blog and one actually reads it and wants more, thanks Jumping Translocation

3. Jetlite serves food. I joyfully stowed away my apple and bikkis and gratefully embraced the kababs (or whatever it was masquerading as meat)

4. A potential father can develop a sympathetic bulge to match his 8 month pregnant wife's belly.

5. I disappeared off the face of the planet aged three. According to my baby book. Apparently writer's block runs in the family. I have my genes to blame.

6. Discussing marital problems on your blog is 'de rigueur' according to a certain nearly-30 juvenile I have had the misfortune of knowing.

7. Childhood enmities run deep. Jolly and Saks shared a table for the first time in a decade, we have Nirula's hot chocolate sundae (aka HCS) to thank for it. Unfortunately my hands were so clammy fiddling around with the peace pipe I didn’t do justice to the diminutive delight. Preets plowed on - oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

8. Delhi traffic is amazingly beautifully choreographed. It's a visual delight. Try driving in Vizag.

9. Getting a duplicate driver's licence is a wee bit easier than planning a 30 day trek to Ladhak.

10. You should never carry more than 500 bucks whilst visiting Dilli Haat. Not accepting credit cards is the best anecdote to compulsive shopping binges.

11. Cancellation/rescheduling fees for Low Cost airlines is 750 bucks + the air ticket difference. Paying 40% of my Spice Jet return to reschedule..boo.

12. People 4 years my junior at school are balding. Scary. Sorry K.

13. My mum stole my TO KILL A MOCKING BIRD. She showed me the name written on the first page, my 10 year old scrawl on the second page didn't merit any attention. I grudgingly conceded defeat.

14. My baby sis paid 40 Euros for a real nice haircut which works out to about 6 haircuts in Indian currency.

BOOKS I AM READING
In-flight blitzed through NO. 1 LADIES' DETECTIVE AGENCY (Alexander Smith) - sweet and imminently forgettable but I have yet to complete it. So much for the International Book of the Year. Ignored TENDER IS THE NIGHT (Fitzgerald) – perhaps later but the plot of a schizophrenic who ruins a marriage hits closer home than I imagined. In comparison Jap/Chinese/Korean authors are brilliant, have three lined back to back...currently reading THE GIRL WHO PLAYED GO (Shan Sa) that Anusha/Mom highly recommended. Also love Kazuo Ishiguro and Banana (Yup it's true) Yoshimoto not to mention a host of other confusing names. Other books on my current reading list include WAITING (Ha Jin) and COMFORT WOMAN...trying to squeeze in THE HUMAN STAIN as well. On a crappier note, my man in Petersburg canot dig out any of the Russian folktales (the illustrated books) - the one he did dig out did not feature gorgeous pictures and worse Baba Yaga. I will have to console myself playing with Matruskha dolls. No sign of Victor Dragunsky either. I miss the USSR publications!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Free Again

2007-06-13T10:11:00.000+06:00

I ‘fess up, I have been hiding out the past 4 days ODing on commercial crap. After two months of Emerson, I succumb to baser instincts - I built up a tottering pile of books that I will read for no ulterior motive and thanks to Venk I pre-ordered a copy of um, er…..{embarrassed cough} …..you know that Potter thing.

I was scraping the bottom of the barrel when I caught myself balefully eying a five year old’s Happy Meal donkey. But that was before I saw the Green Ogre fall flat on his monstrous gut. Damn, Shrek the Third makes a funeral dirge look reasonably amusing. The plot (which has more holes than a sieve) is so seriously unfunny it makes you weep – more so if you’ve just paid through your nose at your neighbourhood-obnoxiously-expensive multiplex. But you will see it anyway. As will I - with 4 and 5.

The plus point of all that studying is I have discovered some darned cool authors/critics and the fact that a fairly large chunk of poets are not snivelling-nosed whiners. Poets I like – Dylan Thomas, Robert Graves and Browning, Toru Dutt, Phillip Larkin and Donne and Plath’s less important half Ted Hughes (incredibly dramatic). Authors discovered – Woolf (non-fiction), Thoreau, Raja Rao. Authors/Dramatists re-discovered – MK Anand, Hemmingway, Karnad, Arthur Miller. It is kind of bizarre seeking out religious symbolism in ‘Lord of the Flies’ but never mind that.

Am already lagging behind a week in deadlines. A pox on mercenary employers who hover like vultures and swoop down the moment you surface for a gulp of fresh air.

My folks are off to Germany and Austria whilst I remain in beauteous Vizag coagulating to runny jell-O in the wretched heat.

Books I am Reading - Sort of

I liked Bonfire of the Vanities and Man in Full. Am hoping ‘I Am Charlotte Simonns’ matches up though the idea of a doddering old Wolfe writing like a hot-blooded PYT doesn’t really match up. Scouring my bookshelf stuffed with books I buy but never get around to reading. Dug out the Historian (Kostova), Brief History of the World (Bryson) and Howard’s End. Not to mention half a dozen others…am I addicted to hoarding? Help, Also re-visting Asimov’s Treasurey Science Fiction bumper book. Sorely disappointed they’ve knocked off yummy Sherlock ‘Brett’ Holmes from the History Channel.

Exam Fever

2007-05-07T12:07:00.001+06:00

Here's the deal. I am lazy when it comes to updates and finally I have a real reason. Exams. For the three of you who visit my blog, am out of commision till the 10th of June after which I promise to be more regular. I sat through 3 minutes of Krish yesterday between Barkha badgering a hapless family (a member had fallen prey to a fake encounter killing) and the Vanzara going-ons. Premeditated planned slaughter is one thing but gunning down somone (even an innocent) in the heat of the moment is something else altogether. A call for policemen NOT to kill is bizarre....can one stay resolute while being peppered by enemy gunfire? Isn't that the same as telling army men posted in sensitive areas to hold their gunfire just in case a shephard is ambling by?

On a happier note, I am floored by BACON'S ESSAYS. They are awesome...my favourite is OF ENVY. For a guy who was pulled down on corruption charges he has a lot to share on TRUTH..:) I can't quote et verbatim but here goes -"Truth comes at the price of a pearl that showeth best by daylight but doesn't rise to the cost of a carbuncle that showeth best in varied lights". 'A man who lieth is brave before God and a coward towards men".

OF ENVY

Ways to Save the Planet

2007-04-25T11:06:00.000+06:00

For the 23rd of April.

The 22nd was Earth Day as Mithun reminded me. It's imperative we reduce emissions aka the proverbial carbon footprint,

The Do-able Stuff
- Quit leaving appliances on standby mode
- Quit overcharging cellphones
- Refill bottles instead of buying new plastic bottles
- Switch off the monitor when the comp isn’t in use
- Use public transport or walk wherever possible
- Take your own shopping bags when you go grocery shopping
- Use newspaper trash bags
- Opt for trains instead of flights
- Pooh pooh at folks who use the lift (esp folks who live on the 2nd and 3rd floor). Lot of practice on that front.
- Switch to CFLs. Expensive but they do land up slashing electric bills considering 90 percent of the energy used by regular incandescent bulbs is lost as heat

The Psychotic Stuff
- Bathe Once a Week
- Flush Once a Week
- Petition for all cattle to be shipped to Mars (see 'What on Earth')
- Shun fans, lights, A/Cs – live in darkness
- Leave food out in the sun to cook
- Starve on cloudy days

The Why Stuff
Harsh white CFLs are synonymous with sterile office environment. Are yellow CFLs asking for too much?

Folk horde Spencer bags. I should know. I do.

I occasionally work for a Wood Magnate. I reassure myself that he is mainly into veneers that he sources from sustainable forests. Ah..the guilt.

The ‘What on Earth!” Stuff

Cattle release vast amounts of Methane through ahem..certain necessary body motions.

Scientists are embracing some bizarre ideas to reduce global warming - like the NASA giant sunshade idea or the forest of extremely ugly artificial trees that convert carbon dioxide into oxygen or for that matter seeding the ocean with irondust to boost plankton growth (that will reduce CO2 emissions). Then again, all great ideas stem from a moment of madness.

Carbon free celebs who go on gigantic tree-planting missions are causing frogs to croak…quite literally. Go figure!

Sydney, in tandem with WWF, conducted a one hour voluntary blackout recently that cut daily energy usage by 10.2%. Well, India is definitely in the eco-warrior league - considering all the energy saved during our (non-voluntary) blackouts.

Have I Been Gypped

2007-04-17T11:02:00.000+06:00

Someone once told me that meaningful writing stems from an acute longing or acute depression, I am not sure which. I daresay, numbness isn’t the hallmark of great writers.

Well, here I am back after a longish break (mostly spent waiting for the muse to come knocking at my door) and boy have I been gypped. One hyped book and one hyped movie later, I am definitely wiser.

I read the NAMESAKE and could barely get through it - Boring, trite, insipid. INTERPRETER OF MALADIES (Lahiri's debut novel) was infinitely better. Nonetheless I hopped across for the movie hoping Irfan and Tabu could breathe some new life into a jaded theme. Big mistake. Though on a positive note, the acting and direction is smashing.

While the Namesake proved vaguely entertaining, I cannot get over the fact why pseudo intellects gush over Amitava Ghosh. Sure, he is learned and sure, he can clump together a mean description of the Sunderbans or erstwhile Rangoon, but when it comes to fleshing out characters, he sucks and how!

My second venture into Ghosh territory ‘THE GLASS PALACE’ was as disappointing as ‘HUNGRY TIDE’. (Post on that here). Giving credit where credit is due, Ghosh is amazingly lyrical and is brilliant when it comes to transcribing history or describing a place, but he fumbles ineptly with the plot and characters. The book begins evocatively enough - slowly and alluringly, but midway Ghosh hits the fast forward button and what could have been an engrossing novel becomes instead a bland narrative. There is definitely something wrong with a book if one has to struggle and I mean really struggle to complete it.

For the record I gave up on PALACE after page 374 but that didn't stop me from sneaking a peek at the last page (ah…an urge I have withheld for nearly a decade) where I came across the most bizarre love-making scene ever. Do they have an award for that, along with the Bad Sex in fiction award? ‘Rajkumar discovers Uma’s dentures are clamped within his, staring in round eyed befuddlement at the pink jaws that were protruding out of his own – Uma leant forward and fastened her mouth on her own teeth and they shut their eyes….’

I have nothing against love-making at all ages, but do you have to shed your dignity along with your clothes? Actually you do, but that is besides the point and anyhow that wasn't my crib about the book.

Books Worth Reading
Re-read THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA (Hemingway) after more than a decade. A book that left no impact on me as a kid, moved me to tears as an adult. Ditto DEATH OF A SALESMAN though minus the tears (Arthur Miller). Also got my hands on an antique edition of WALDEN (Thoreau) - The author lived for two years in a self-made cottage by a pond to prove a point – You can live simply by shrugging off materialism and dependence on others. Um…but he ‘borrowed an axe’ to construct the house and I think the land was borrowed as well. Well, it's the thought that counts:)

Poets In Us

2007-03-27T23:26:00.000+06:00

If I could write even a smidgen of poetry I would be a neo-romantic. I had pictured myself as a nihilist, unsentimental realist in the vein of the deliciously cynnical Philip Larkin or an outspoken erratic Ted Hughes.

But there you have it...as I was reading Dylan's 'Poem in October' and 'Hunchback in the Park' it struck me with the force of a slap. Honestly, it was enough to turn my stomach. I am a nostalgic fool fervently pressing down, with gentle fingers, faded memories of my life back in Gulmohar Park, Delhi. Back when life was so amazingly uncomplicated except for a burden called school.

If I ever got around to writing that dratted book it would be about us - a pack of vagabonds flying kites near Harivansh Rai Bachchan's house hoping that one would snag and we would finally find out if Bachchanji really did have a rooftop swimming pool. It would be us carefully cultivating Famous Five and Secret Seven mannerisms, looking for hidden islands and obvious mysteries. Us, climbing trees and sending garbled torch signals house to house....us splattered across different cities, still in touch and so mundanely adult.

"And I saw in the turning so clearly a child's
Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother
Through the parables
Of Sunlight
And the legends of the green chapels.
And the twice told fields of infancy
That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine"
- Poem in October (Dylan Thomas)

Why a venerable old gentleman should soak in a rooftop pool is anybody's guess but for us that was the epitome of all things unattainable - a rooftop that was was probably dotted with sodden junk and Amitabh's rusting baby pram - but we never did find out and perhaps it is better this way.

Blast frm the Past - Nostalgia Trip on this blog

Where Are the Soviet Books
To Kill a Mocking Bird
Give Me My Monopoly
And just a bit on poetry. I have changed...having come to appreciate poetry courtesy AU
Crabby Poetry

Monthly Ramblings

2007-03-14T00:10:00.000+06:00

Feb to March has been a bit of a crazy ride and I am not too sure if I want to get off or sit it out. The holiday is well and truly over. Back to battling the deadline scourge that infests my waking hours.

Lately, whenever I pick up a book, I feel guilty about ignoring the ponderous tomes I am supposed to peruse if I have a chance in hell of passing my MA 2^nd year – corr. Nonetheless I went bookshopping recently at PAGES (VIZAG) and met this amazing chap who is a book consultant! Notch that up with DJ at a rock./retro joint and food taster at the Zodiac Grill. What wouldn’t I give to be a book consultant though in my humble capacity I suggest books at a local library – how else could I have got my hands on ‘Cell’ hardbound...hyuck hyuck!

His name is Kalanidhi ("Reading is a Lonely Passion") and on his recommendation I added ‘The Historian’ to my ‘On Writing’ (Stephen King) and ‘Manticore’s Secret’ (Samit Basu). Have to get around to reading ‘The Historian’. Meanwhile another generous soul has lent me a crispy clean definitely unread edition of ‘The Glass Palace’ (Ghosh). My cup runneth over.

Top 10 Random Ramblings over the past 1 month

On Writing is an *&^% Indian Edition. It does not have the winning short story I read in the international edition, Damn damn damn……dammmmmit
Pan’s Labyrinth: The first adult fairytale I have seen. LOTR doesn’t count right. Btw what is the difference between a fairytale and fantasy? Do Goblins and trolls bridge the gap? Highly recommended but brutal…really brutal. Loved it. 96% on Rotten Tomatoes. I am right.
Flushed Away: Anyone with a yen for animation has to go where the sun don’t shine – down London’s sewers pervert. Ah I dine in anticipation of Ratatouille. Btw doesn’t Disney’s stills for ‘Meet the Robinsons’ look like last year’s toilet paper?
Weird Dreams: A rocket shriveling up my innards, I woke up sweating and actually touched my arms to check for sizzling flesh. Add to that being shipped off to Russia in my house. Scary shit. I used to control my dreams.
Marie Antoinette: Mellowdrama sheepishly admits she likes period drama. Sat through this fluffy gorgeous absolutely scrumptious production for the cakes and the clothes. Btw the scene where Dunst changes her shoes has a pair of Converse sneakers in the foreground. Probably the part where Sofia Coppola nipped out for a cuppa.
Firstandsecond.com: What the heck, I send ‘em a cheque, they claim they have Raja Rao. They don’t receive the cheque and say all the books I want are out of stock. Crap!
Suffarage of Elivra (Naipul) is giving me the heebijeebies. It is a nice book, entertaining but irritatingly repetitive. Give me House for Mr Biswas and Flag on the Island any day
Sherlock Holmes: Ah…Tuesday’s is the only day I watch TV for more than 26 minutes. Estimate news works out to that much minus the ads. Mmmmm.....Jermey Brett on the History Channel. Useless tidbit gleaned from rival Brett aka Sherlock lover – Brett appears holding Hepburn’s arm in 'My Fair Lady'.
Post Secrets: I check out this site every week and every single time there is something I can relate to. Am I that dysfunctional? Help.
Emails: Are a pain in the ass. More so if the rude recipient does not reciprocate. Cold turkey time – have been Msn and Yahoo chat free for more than a year. Gmail/chat and Skype is the way to go.

Been Awhile

2007-02-19T18:24:00.000+06:00

My brother tied the knot with Mukta in a ceremony that juxtaposed tambhi tradition with just a dash of Oriya flavor. The marriage of cultures proved to be surprisingly entertaining – more so when the vadiyar (Pandit for the unthambis) got his dhoti in a twist at the constant conch blowing. And even more so, when the conch blower, embarrassed by all the attention, developed cold feet and began sounding like a certain snotty nosed uncle paarping into a handloom hanky. I preferred the elephant.

The journey from Vizag to Hyderabd to Mumbai had its moments –
Hyderabad-Mumbai (Kingfisher)
Costing the same as Jet, Kingfisher was pretty cool– right from the attendant hovering solicitously by my elbow at the check-in to the natty tellys on every seat. So what if they only replayed Star, Zoom and Mallaya’s face? By the time I realized those radio channels do not really work, we landed. Honestly do those headphones work? Hmm..

Mumbai-Hyderabad (Deccan)
Except for the fact that some genius had left half a roll of crumbled bread carefully wrapped up in a newspaper on my seat pocket for me to scatter on my lap I had little reason to complain. One air-hostess actually cracked a smiled. A real smile! Her make-up flaked.

Other Assorted Highlights
Oldies Still Goldies: Watched TCM the three nights I was in Hyderabad. Cornball comedies and sappy b/w still appeal to me. Maybe I going soft in the head.

Acres Club, Chembur: The whole of Dharavi could be housed here and you would have room to spare. I was dead impressed, I don’t think I have seen so much of open space all together at one place in Mumbai. Ever.

Junkt: The jazz band we heard at Kala Godha (Mumbai) – maybe I should google em out, and follow their career. Then again maybe not.

Laxmi Woolen Mills Compound (Lower Parel): My office (Hungama) scraped the bottom of the barrel with this new place. It is humungous but after Raguvanshi and the proximity to the malls, this area sucks. Add to that the Hungama drop-off with sexist tendencies –only the women get dropped to Mahalaxmi station, the guys walk. Heh

Black Friday on V-Day with Amma: The movie is stunning..it really is. As for the OST, I have had it for two years now but you have got to hear Indian Ocean live. What is the real truth anyway?
"History isn't what happened. History is just what historians tell us. One good story leads to another."
- A History of the World in 10½ Chapters

Books I have been reading and re-reading
Like Water for Chocolate: If you like Allende and Marquez you will like this. Read it for the fourth time. It is positively scrumptious. Btw the movie which I saw post reading the book the first time round is also worth a watch.

The History of the World in 101/2 Chapters: Hilarious and thought-provoking – from Admiral Moses with his flotilla of sorry animals to the stowaway woodworms that give us the lowdown on the deluge, the book only deteriorates only towards the end when Julian Barnes goes on and ON about love. Anyhow an entertaining animal case, his take on the truth behind Gericault's splendid ‘Scene of a Shipwreck’, a ship full of Jews, a strange hostage system that parallels the Ark animals’ fate all make up for it….the book is a smashing read. Thanks a tonne Vivek!

Writer's Blah!

2006-12-24T00:25:00.000+06:00

One of the greatest mysteries of the modern world - how on earth do NaNoWriMo participants plug in a whopping 50,000 words in 30 days? Sure it boils down to 1,666 words a day which is doable provided you have the plot, the story, the idea, the characters, the beginning and the ending at the tips of your fingers....Or at least you have the seed of the idea germinating in the cosy windowbox of your mind.

Me? I have trouble knocking together this excuse for a blog. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon. I chose the latter complete with excrutiating deadlines and well, that's that. It is difficult indeed writing for nothing.

On a Serious Note
Why is our basic Indian justice system so flawed that miscreants get away in the lower courts only to get hauled up by the higher? Manu Sharma gets what he deserves and the hostile witnesses are going to get pulled up...but seriously without a witness protection programme would you speak out? Especially considering the guilty would probably buy their way out only to come baying for you blood? Would you stand up for integrity and justice and honour, or pocket the money and maintain a diplomatic (and infinitely safer) silence? Will it only be high profile cases that grab our attention while rural atrocities languish for lack of attention?

On a Lighter Note
Read this completely insane news piece in the Hindu (of all the newspapers) sometime back - about an American who farted on a short-haul flight (within the US of A) and promptly lit a match to dispel the stench. The flight was grounded and the woman reprimanded. Which brings me to two things, what the heck was she doing with a box of matches on a plane?

I thought matches were banned along with blow torches and hair gel and silcon transplants. Clearly this was a lady of refinement, a retiring wallflower who was willing to go to any lengths to detract attention from herself...and as luck would have it, nearly everyone who reads the teeny newsprint spirited in the obscure nether-regions of the newspaper knows who farted. The poor, poor, poor thing.

Just read HUNGRY TIDE (Amitav Ghosh) - The Sunderbans never seemed as enticing or as rife with danger. Though Ghosh is absolutely no good at sketching human characters - they seem like caricatures, mere cut-outs without a soul. Frankly I wouldn't have given a hoot if Kanai and his aunt Nilima filled a hungry tiger's tum or if Pia swims with the fish...really, my sympathies lie wholly with the mangroves. On a more generous note I could squeeze in two ounces of goodwill for the foolhardy settlers..

Solitary Swimmer

2006-11-22T16:02:00.000+06:00

“It isn’t the best time to be walking away from the sport but it’s my time”
- Ian Thorpe

Quitting when you are still ahead is a frightening prospect for an athlete who has only known one world far removed from, well, the real world. Thorpe’s decision has the sporting world in a spin but I admire the guy and wish him all the luck in the world.
From an article in the Hindu (by Rohit Brijnath) announcing Thorpe's retirement -

“Few pursuits are as solitary and confining.In practice, there is no mirror like the weightlifter has, no opponent to spar with like the boxer has. There is only the bottom of the pool and a black line as lonely as the swimmer”.

I couldn’t have put it better. Swimming is sweet melancholia and I wouldn't have it any other way.

What's News?

2006-11-18T12:10:00.000+06:00

I have scant respect for television as a medium of communication. Only seconded by the Times of India….

The outcry over getting the Jessica Lal/Matoo case back on track may have had its benefits but when the victim isn’t a young good-looking professional, then it ‘aint news.

I don’t see the media getting their knickers in a twist about booking Bhotmange’s daughter’s murderers. And what of poor Gudiya? She subsequently remarried and was pregnant with her second husband’s son when the first (supposedly dead) husband reappeared. NDTV swooped down on Gudiya as did all the other news channels delirious for sound bytes. They dragged her family members into studios and thrust mikes into her face demanding, “Which husband do you choose?” - anything to feed our voracious voyeuristic appetite. Poor Gudiya really didn't have a choice, the Shariyat and the media did the choosing for her.

Anyway to cut a long story short, Gudiya committed suicide. I daresay the inhumane media coverage was one of the not-so-insignificant factors that drove Gudiya to desperation. Her death wasn’t deemed newsworthy enough. It found a mention in annews column on the 10^th page of a daily.

Bhotmange, whose family was brutally killed, doesn’t want a Government job, he wants the murderers hanged. But then, he is a poor Dalit who dared to send his children to school and college, and who dared to dream of a better life.

I really don’t know what we can do to change the system or rid India of a deep rooted social malaise. Writing about it in a psuedo Mulk Raj Anand-Raja Rao way is all we ever seem to do – and that includes me. Is action being taken, I am not sure – the media isn’t covering it anymore you see.

‘The Untouchable’ by Mulk Raj Anand tells the story of a single day in a young boy’s life. He cleans latrines only because his father does. An extremely sensitive portrayal Bakha wonders ‘Do people consider us dirty just because we do dirty work?’

An Indian Fantasy

2006-10-27T21:34:00.000+06:00

I am hooked to Ashok Banker’s RAMAYANA series; appropriately I was on Book 6 KING OF AYODHYA a day before Diwali. I never thought an Indian could handle the action fantasy genre but Banker is surprisingly good and so is the editing. I spotted just two copy errors. Spread out over six books. Honestly, I am floored.

My pseudo-religious fervor nicely balances out with Bill Bryson’s THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE THUNDERBOLT KID. Absolutely hilarious, Bryson is a riot! Being an American kid in the 50’s isn’t all that different from being an Indian kid in the 70’s – after all 1950’s (all-American) conveniences were just about trickling into India of the 70’s.

Diwali was spent in a haze of smog and condensation in Hyderabad. We didn’t burst any crackers and thriftily gaped at our neighbours’ dazzling firework display. Also spent Diwali mulling over past misdeeds and decided I would get around to writing a detailed Andaman’s report that would help clueless wannabe travelers for eons to come..or as long as the WWW stays put. Will be up soon on my other blog.

Information on the Andamans (and I mean sensible travel friendly useful info) is hard to come by. Besides I harbor tender hopes that my blog pops up on a google search if I tap this rich vastly unmined territory. There is no such thing as a Good Samaritan.

About the RAMAYANA Series
Fed on a staple diet of Amar Chitra Kathas and telly Ramayana (which I watched with quiet fanaticism) Banker’s version is a treat - a fast-paced graphic thriller if you will pardon my French. He has culled together Valmiki and Tusidas’ versions among others and I for one never knew that each retelling was so different. Tulsidas portrays Sita as a sobbing half-wit while Valmiki’s version praises her as a strong-willed princess. The infamous Lakshman Rekha is not mentioned in Valmiki’s version at all. Go figure!! For more visit Banker's Blog

Andamans Ups and Downs!!

2006-10-12T16:11:00.000+06:00

The days of unlimited connectivity and superior speeds are over. I am stuck with a crumbly 20 hours account and am resigned to horde my previous minutes and count micro-seconds. Hopefully that explains why I never got around to making an Andamans posting. Will gradually get around to a more detailed posting on my other blog and meanwhile here is our trip in a nutshell. Pics up on http://coorgbreak.blogspot.com/

We just had 8 days in all and that was about 22 days too short:) I recommend Havelock and Redskin and a whole bunch of other places I couldn’t visit to anybody who loves the sea and snorkelling and diving. If you can’t swim. It’s not worth it…really.

Up: The roads from Vizag to Chennai: Smooth!!!!!
Down: The stretch where traffic was diverted – apparently hay dries best on highways

Up: Air Deccan
Down : The In-flight pamphlet they have the temerity to call a menu.

Up: We congratulate ourselves on grabbing seats on the left side. You get the best views from there.
Down: The view is obscured by clouds and visibility is 2 inches from my nose.

Up: Gorgeous, gorgeous Andamans awaits
Down:As do we –for the blessed ferry.

Up: Havelock all the way!!!! Our islander tout is super efficient.
Down: Only two places on the island accept Credit Cards. Both are appropriately ultra-expensive.

Up:Havelock’s Beach No 7. Firangs and calendar perfect views abound.
Down:Havelock’s Radhanagar Beach. Bongs and squalling kids abound.

Up:Havelock Stay - Eco Huts, Wild Orchid, Bay View… Barefoot for its aesthetic appeal.
Down:Barefoot Jungle Resort: 4 grand for a night and cornflakes for breakfast?

Up:Cellular Jail by day
Down: Cellular Jail by Night. It rained and rained and rained - they restarted the show thrice.'

Up: Ross Island and RedSkin: The fall of the Raj and awesome snorkelling respectively
Down: Jolly Buoy: Mostly coz it was closed for 6 months.

Up:The New Lighthouse at Port Blair
Down: The Taj - a Seafood Buffet and only fish on the menu

Up: Mt. Harriet, the breathtaking, amazing panoramic view
Down: The leeches you carry along with you to the top

Up: Elephant Bay on Havelock…the best place to sight coral and this gigantic fish that freaked me out (it wasn 't a ray)
Down: The hike to Elephant Bay: 2 kms of mud till my kneecaps. No one told us not to try this in the wet season.

On a parting note, it was SO WORTH IT and I will be back:) Couldn't dive and snorkelling was a bit of a downer coz it was cloudy. Second time luckier perhaps?!

Andamans Dreamin'

2006-09-19T21:54:00.000+06:00

Yesterday I played out my ultimate fantasy. If you are expecting the perfect orgasm or something, this is the part where you start feeling cheated.

This is my blog and my fantasy so here goes - Girl, alone. In a bookstore. With unlimited cash. And it gets juicer..she can pick up anything she wants, no holds barred.

I sort of give back to the community (or so I pretend) by volunteering at a local library once a week and being the only volunteer with a yen for books I was given the awesome responsibility of stocking it up! Five hours of all the books I ever wanted. Heaven!!

Anyway from one strata of the heavenly kingdom to another. All plans to the Andamans are on, tentative travel schedule on ROAD TRIPPING:: COORG AND BEYOND.

Car still at the cleaners. Drat and double drat. Should be getting it by Thursday. Please pretty please or it will be a bumpy ride by bus to Chennai.

Smashed Cars

2006-09-17T14:18:00.000+06:00

After having driven 8000 kms cross country over the worst terrain possible, our car gets smashed 800 metres from our house. The irony of it!

Ah well, the dreaded “new-car-meets-with-its-first-accident” jinx has been lifted. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Insurance is covering it and we might just make the weekend drive to Chennai - A place I abhor and try my best to avoid. But a necessary evil. Flights to Port Blair operate from there.

This year has been a rather strange one. After hitting rock bottom at the beginning of the year, and well, pretty much getting smashed (not THAT way) I figured I might as well do stuff I have been talking about for years but never got around to doing. Coorg, the MA, the Andamans…it’s all working out and to think it took a whole lot of wallowing in despair to get till here.

I can’t stand ‘self-help-masquerading-as-fiction’…but funnily enough one such book I did happen to read (mostly on account of no other books behind around) does spring to mind. Veronika Decides To Die. Not an earth-shattering read but the concept got to me. Honestly, it does take a nasty upset and then some, to get you moving. It’s a necessity; maybe it has something to do with evolution…minus that occasional high dose shot of despair the species would stagnate.

Having been to Lakshadweep, I can't wait to get to the Andamans. Will be doing a thorough recci - diving, snorkelling spots etc. So if anybody is interested to know more...mail me when I get back. All details will be uploaded on my psuedo-Travel Blog. Travel tips welcome!

Mocking Bird

2006-09-07T17:07:00.000+06:00

I cried when I lost TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. It was this battered old edition with a yellow cover and my father's name neatly printed in his careful hand on the front page. I have read that book at least 6 times and each time I see a bit of my life in a forgotten paragraph.

Maybe it had something to do with my dad being Atticus and me being Scout. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Boo Radley lived down the road, a horrific Down Syndrome afflicted boy who would insist on lunging at us terrified kids. He wanted to be friendly, we didn’t know any better. Not until the kids from A Block threw stones at Faran. Then he was one of us.

We fought his battles for him. He never understood local politics. B Block and A Block were separated by a rift - a scary boy shaped rift. I wonder if Faran went back to Afghanistan and remembers the rag tag bunch of kids who trailed him, scurrying away the moment he came lumbering towards them. If I were him, I would want to forget us, never mind the bloody battles and the black eyes.

My Dad is Atticus, he still is, he always will be.... my friend says every girl thinks her dad is Atticus. Not every girl reads, so I know he is wrong. My dad is as reasonable as Atticus and never forced me to do a thing, he just explained the consequences, the decision was mine and he respected it.

There are some books that make you cry, and some make you remember and well some are so stupid you wish the publishers had sensibly burn the manuscript before unleashing the monstrosity on an unsuspecting public that judges a book by its cover.

To Kill a Mockingbird is different, it's a biography of every adult on the face of the planet. Every adult who was a kid once and forgot what being a kid is about. The Soviet Books and Harper Lee do have something in common, they hit home. You know what sort of a grown-up you ought to be.

Who Needs Crabby Poetry

2006-08-28T16:59:00.000+06:00

There is something about kids’ poetry that grabs me. For starters it is almost always funny and as far as I can make out the poet is not a pretentious twat. And even if he is, he is pretty darned good at not coming across as one. Though some poetry is fairly dark – Nash for instance.

Honestly what is with these wannabe poets who insist on bombarding the world with their crabby cribs? Am I interested in your shitty upbringing and Freudian complexes? I should hope not. I have problems of my own and these I write in a ridiculous outdated diary that will never be publicly unveiled let alone find its way into a blog.

Seriously unless you have a medical condition that requires community help, spare me. If you have to kill yourself, I advise electrocution.

Silly rhyme favourites: Shel Silverstein, Lewis Carroll, Ogden Nash and a whole lot more. And if we ever get to books : HH Munroe (SAKI) and Oscar Wilde any day of the year. And yes I do read Eliot and Shakespeare’s sonnets mostly because I have my second year MA to complete. Check my previous post. I never did find Wodehouse witty - silly yeah. Sue me.

I'll share your toys, I'll share your money,

I'll share your toast, I'll share your honey.

I'll share your milk, and your cookies too,

The hard part is sharing mine with you.

© Shel Silverstein

Celery, raw

Develops the jaw,

But celery, stewed,

Is more quietly chewed.

© Ogden Nash

Pluto Demoted

2006-08-25T12:10:00.000+06:00

It's official now, Pluto has been demoted, stripped of its elite planetary status. (See Previous Post) Lumped with the lowly, Pluto now bears the title of the politically incorrect 'dwarf' planet.

My Very Educated Mother can heave a sigh of relief, she will not be pointing out dwarf planets like Pluto, Charon, the aesteroid blah blah in the near future.

For the moment 'My Very Educated Mother Just Showed Us Nine'.

Cosmic Chaos

2006-08-24T13:04:00.000+06:00

My Very Educated Mother Just Showed Us Nine Planets. Surely one can never forget one’s planets unless one is American.

If 2003 UB313 is to be a planet, and Pluto is not, if Pluto’s moon is to be a planet as is the asteroid Ceres what in the high heavens will my very educated mother show me?

Is Pluto a planet or just a rocky lump of ice -these and other universe altering questions are keeping astronomers and sky gazers in a tizzy not to mention printers, publishers and billions of kiddies who will have to come to terms with the fact that the Solar Sytem has not nine, not 12 but perhaps a whole truckload of planets.

The cosmic chaos started with the discovery of 2003 UB313 (aka Xena) – larger and farther away than Pluto. Then came the International Astronomical Union (IAU) decision to DEFINE a planet. (Apparently a large-sized round object orbiting the Sun that got us through Grade 1 is not good enough).

Whatever, but I sure as hell hope they have someone ready with a neat mnemonic before they unveil the Universe’s new additions.

For the record, more Americans can identify Superman’s home planet than name the planet nearest the Sun. And in other weird space news, the Chinese Government is blasting seeds into space in the hopes that cosmic radiation modifies the seeds which in turn will improve the crop yield back on Earth. Some 2,000 seeds are saddling up for a two week mission aboard the Chinese satellite Shijian-8.

Do it Like the Chinese

2006-08-19T17:09:00.000+06:00

A friend of mine swears by acupressure for her real (and imagined) ailments. She gets tips on the phone. Apparently simply kneading fingers has set right what modern science and an MD in medicine couldn't.
Duly impressed, I rummaged around for my acupressure fix - a certain pair of Chinese spherical shaped objects which I could define in a far easier word but this is not one of those blogs.

Anyway, these objects are called health um..spheroids and rotating them in the palm of your hand strengthens your immune system, relaxes wrought muscles and generally gives you a feeling of calm strength. They also make this pleasant chiming sound that is quite yummy. Acupressure set to music that calls for only hands-on experience. Super.

So far I have put in ten minutes of rolling the spherical shaped objects whilst reading the newspaper - Inclusive of 2 minutes of dropping them with resounding thuds. I stare at the little silk box, admire the painted spheres and try to get my fingers off the keyboard long enough to relax them in what the pamphlet claims are ‘miraculous ways’. I feel healthy and immune to trivial ailments. There is something about red silk and ancient China. Imagination aside, this ought to go a long way in making my fingers more agile - All the better to type dear.

For the record Tata Broadband sucks, I am constantly having connectivity problems and worse, they have a monopoly in this part of the world. Here’s the latest - I registered a complaint for an error 691 (an authentication problem at their end) since then I have got an error 619, error 718, a remote computer doesn’t respond, an error 678 and some other crap that I am hoping the great virtual dustbin swallows up. I have run the entire gamut of Tata Broadband error messages. Am I blessed or what?!

Give Me My Monopoly

2006-08-11T12:49:00.000+06:00

Monopoly is about the money - those tired tattered notes that you sneaked out of the ‘bank’ when the banker wasn’t looking. Those ridiculous little red and green house-hotels, the silver shoe that no one wanted to be, the train stations and the coveted real estate....our games stretched endlessly, sometimes lasting more than a day. And when night came, the responsible banker would stash away the loot while we of weak moral fiber plotted on how best to raise siege. As Monopoly celebrates its 70^th anniversary, some bright spark figured the game needed a facelift.

So they axe the money.

THE money.

There will be debit cards – Visa branded. It’s easier taking over a board game than ensuring James Bond puts it on his Visa. Oh and did I mention there is a (Visa) branded electronic card reader to record all transfers. That’s exactly what we want, a board game that needs batteries.

Why the new Monopoly might just work
- The debit card is realistic enough to be swiped at Life Style.
- The electronic reader, worth a few dollars, can be doctored to read all cards (thanks Korula)
- The shoe is being replaced by a mobile phone. One doesn't mind being a mobile phone..I think.

Why the new Monopoly won’t work
- Looting a bank vs punching in numbers...punching numbers is so much more fun.
- "How the hell did you become a zillionaire?" "Er..I must have hit 0 twenty two times."
- Batteries for a board game. Batteries that you will most likely flick from your remote. And we know how that ends.

Where are the Soviet Books?

2006-08-08T17:11:00.000+06:00

Last night I sat up flipping through books I grew up with – figuratively speaking. I was digging them out for a kid I like. This was a stab at re-educating her and showing her Blyton and Rowling aren’t the only ones. There they were – the What Katy Dids and the Little Women and the Black Beauties. And right behind were the Russian books. Yup I am from back when 'Faraway Tree' was still, well faraway.

When I was 6-7 the only English books available were the horrible IBH productions or the gorgeous, illustrated books procured from floating Soviet circuses and travelling book exhibitions. I am linguistically challenged so obviously they were translated versions. ‘The Adventures of Dennis - Twenty Years Under the Bed’ (Victor Dragunsky) and ‘When Daddy was a Little Boy’. They are stories about real boys, kids who know how daft grown-ups can be. Man, I love them…and you know there is nothing childish about these books. I can read them again and again, and I learn something new - mostly what sort of grown-up I ought not to be.

None of that flying broomstick shit, no fluffies, no slave elfs and none of that hogwart hogwash, these are kids the way they used to make ‘em. Before the telly and the Internet. The kid I once was – cept I wasn’t a boy. Where are these Russian authors? Were they deported for their insidious views? Or do they thumb through their books and reminisce on life behind the Iron Curtain. Where are the ‘Uncle’ books?

I cannot believe I actually found The Adventures of Dennis online. God Bless Google. Read this chapter

Rain Plays Tricks

2006-08-06T14:08:00.000+06:00

I live in a house that doesn’t spring leaks. My first in six years of being associated with the Navy. My joy finds an outlet – mostly of the gloating and nodding sagely while others moan nature.

My cupboards are not soaked in three inches of water, I am not airing out clothes after a hard day’s work and best of all the walls are not crumbling cream cheese. North Andhra Pradesh is caught in the throes of a cyclone that beat's Mumbai's rains hollow any day of the year. Seriously. I lived in Mumbai for over 5 years and this is my first season in AP.

My half chewed pencil and Internet Radio (GOD BLESS VIRGIN CLASSIC ROCK) keep me company as I gaze at my computer screen waiting for the elusive muse to come knocking. Two deadlines, three story ideas and the germ of a book, that my friend says I ought to nurture lovingly (until it grows into a full blown virus) torment me. But it’s all good. Like fishing last weekend in turbid harbour waters from a barge. Ignoring the huge green board that says 'Anyone caught fishing will be prosecuted'. Four of us spotting fish that trail enticingly around our bait but refuse to fall for it. Bagging red worms from the localites and not catching a thing. Except for my friend who caught a paavum fish ...so paavam we had to let it go. Chatting about that camping trip to Araku now that the rains have set in.

Visions of holidays yet to be taken. Anandamans or Arunachal and getting more ambitious - Turkey or Italy? I want to go to Coorg again in December and I want to drive down the Konkan coast. Or perhaps go back to Dharamsala and of course Palolem in the spring, the rains, the summers!

Mundane, stick-in-the-mud good sense prevails - the bane of my existence. Will settle for a camping trip to Araku, 100 kms from here or another fishing expedition preferably in cleaner waters. Definitely month end. There are no takers besides one friend and Anand who really has no choice. Ashwini is leaving for France to learn wine-making. We had some good times - from Lakshadweep to Solang Valley, I will miss her.

As for the other Navy folk here - they give dishwater a complex. I miss Mumbai and the hordes of people I knew who were game for camping and trekking during the monsoons. I miss the ghats and the ghads.

The Breach that Wasn't

2006-07-28T14:30:00.000+06:00

Hallelujah...all's swell in the blogging world, I can finally access my blog without the hassle of proxy servers. Indian Prime Time Telly was fairly entertaining yesterday. After ages. Two girls and one guy out on a lark - drive up to the Prime Minister's House. All the news channels were yelling themselves hoarse about the mother of all security breaches until the PMO piped up saying it wasn't a security breach at all and most people can sashay up to the second gate on a regular basis.

I couldn't get over the massive security breach which wasn't. The funniest was the NDTV 24X7 newscaster's self-satisfied, smug, self-congratulatory smirk about the exclusive 'interview' with the mysterious girl driving the mysterious Sonata. Haha..the driver turned out to be an air-headed airhostess ( a job she probably no longer holds since 12:00 hrs) who said she wanted to meet the Prime Minster...just coz he is. Er..okay. Now if only the enterprising reporter had asked her if she knows WHO the Prime Minister of India is. That would have sent the TRPs skyrocketing.

Help Me See!!!

2006-07-26T19:41:00.000+06:00

I can edit my blog but I cannot view it. Brilliant. My provider is Tata Indicom....

My friend at Times Now says that I ought to have patience and the Government knows what it is doing. I am sure...but as about a gadzillion Bloggers pointed out, there are ways and means of getting around the ban ranging from www.hidemyass to starting a new blog elsewhere to hell..I dunno, my patience wears thin.

This clamp on mass media harks back to the Emergency era and is definitely my first taste of Governmental restrictions. I guess I am being a tad bit "melodramatic" albeit the mellow is all but dried up. If anybody has any suggestions as to how I can view my blog, lemme know..please.

Of Mice and Frogs

2006-07-07T16:00:00.000+06:00

I hated 'The Rescuers' but this is the bee's knees. Bogged down by a tottering backlog of work (mostly piled up because of the realisation there is one sport I can watch on the telly) I haven't been updating this blog. Assuming a pic does speak a thousand words, I think I have said enough.
Photo © National Geographic. The rains are here alright.
Obviously the frogs they wedded in parts of Madhya Pradesh all cooperated and copulated.

Vizag Visitor

2006-07-01T13:19:00.000+06:00

Hurrah I get my first real visitor. After being unceremoniously offloaded at Hyd airport last week, my Cartoon (Network) pal Swati finally made it to Vizag. The weather conditions were apparently right and there was no proverbial cyclone brewing but boy did it rain. We drove to Bheemli – the 24km route from Vizag is one of the longest and most gorgeous beach roads in

India

.

Bheemli is also the site of the oldest Dutch settlement on the East Cost and cemeteries that ‘house’ pirate graves. But how the hell does one translate pirate into Hindi or Telugu?! Lack of communication skills resulted in our poking around a horribly run down but rather quaint Dutch cemetery. No sign of the Jolly Roger. (PIC Below: View from Dolphin Peak very near my house)

Sunset of my Life

2006-05-31T13:47:00.000+06:00

VIEW :: From my balcony
Vizag is gorgeous and green. The rains have set in. I love this place, I really do. My metro wellwishers want to drag me to a nuthouse considering I have always lived in Mumbai and Delhi and no one, not even my mum, hell even me (or is it I - even an MA never gets these basic differences ironed out) never in a billion years figured I would settle for a pokey lil' city. That goes to show, you can surprise yourself. The Sun going out isn't that gloomy.

A Floating Book Exhibition

2006-05-22T17:20:00.000+06:00

Christianity + Spreading Knowledge = The World's Largest floating book exhibition

The World's Largest floating book exhibition, housed in the world's oldest (still sailing) passenger ship, made a stop over at Vizag. Doulos is manned by volunteers, some as young as 19, who pay for their stay onboard, sail around Europe, Africa and Asia and spread goodness in the form of concrete schools in deserts, free medical check-ups in Chennai and a lot of other stuff that looks nice and comforting in print. The PR propoganda is on the official site here. The Ship's dossier/press kit claims the ship is nearly as old as the Titanic. Um not the best of comparisons but I will let that pass.

Day One : Went there as a regular tourist gawking at the stuff that is meant to be gawked at. The kiddie section was brilliant but the Christian books and bibles were a forbidding prescence - looming over everything else. My friend Korula points out perhaps they are into conversions. Hmm...

Couple of Days Later: Go there as a psuedo-journalist. Am writing an article and am given the grand tour topped with coffee and bikkis in the VIP lounge. Notice a seminar going on, attended by localites. The PR lady says it is stress management or something as vague as that. The woman spearheading it is the Director of the Christian Revivial Mission. Hmmm ..

In the bowels of the ship I see posters trumpeting 'Jesus Saves You' or words to that effect, PR lady shrugs if off saying, "Ooh this is just for fun, nothing to look at." Sure. I wasn't allowed to take a pic of the poster. Anyhow...that's that but I do intend getting in touch with the Christian Revival Mission. But first I gotta finish my clean, secular, kiddie article on what fun it is to be sailing on Doulos.

What's your Secret

2006-04-14T15:08:00.000+06:00

I had this tee I painted. I wore it to college a few times. It was two sizes too big but the design was eye-catching - lilies on two panels copied from a Monet print if my memory serves me right.

Anyway I sold it. For 500 bucks at People's Tree (Delhi, CP). A fortune back in 1996 for a college kid whose only source of income was covering the campus beat for newspapers that did not pay. Talk about washing your dirty laundry, it got sold within a day. Some foreigner in hicksville USA probably wears it to bed now.

Not much of a secret really, I gloated about the devious deal like any other conniving college kid would. This is the kinda skeleton you can air every once in a while...not like the real dirty laundy that never gets washed although POST SECRETS is a great step in that direction. A sort of virtual confessional box POST SECRETS showcases the best post cards they receive. I love it mostly because it's black and funny and sometimes so cheerless it makes me feel great about my life.

Waiting for God who?

2006-04-11T00:33:00.000+06:00

I saw the play 'Waiting for Godot' ages ago along with a lot of bespectacled Kafka spouting NCB regulars and pretentious Xavier Lit Soc types. I thought the play was a drag, I laughed at all the wrong places (no one else was laughing at all) and generally made by ignorance fairly apparent. Okay so now i have read it and am clued onto all the symbolisms and it isn't even remotely funny...any longer.

Especially since the Waiting part hits closer home. Waiting is what Estragon and Vladimir detest...it is the wait that kills. We are CONSTANTLY waiting for something that really never materialises. And if it does it is mostly not to our liking. We wait for the perfect man, wait for him to pop the question, wait to get married, wait to have a baby, wait for a divorce...and this is just one example in our world of absurdities. You say waiting is a sign of hope, waiting reflects despair.

Truly if you are waiting for something, it is pretty likely it will not happen. Call me superstitious, meanwhile I wait for a comment on this post.

Everybody's a poet

2006-04-06T22:46:00.000+06:00

I never thought I would appreciate poetry but it is not all bad or all pretentious aka cafelitarati. Of course it is mostly what has been prescribed as part of the course;) Poetry should be upfront like clean prose and it really should quit being so egostical - TS. Eliot advocated impersonality of poetry, modern day wannabe poets could take the hint and quit focusing on their sorry lives.

Mermaid, Dragon, Fiend - Robert Graves
My Last Duchess - Robert Browning

The Great Vowel Shift

2006-04-04T22:11:00.000+06:00

Kids used to put make-up to look older (mostly to get into cinema halls showing A-rated movies - they were strict back then). They grew older and began using make-up for just the opposite effect.

No big relevation there but it sort of applies to my life, not the dolling up bit but the fact that I have actually got around to doing my MA (alebit correspondence). Am I the same person who couldn't wait to get out of college and get into advertising? Does age do this to you?? AAArgh and crazy as it sounds - I actually WANT to study and it's not as if I don't have a choice. Two negatives make a postive. Pigs will fly.

Am I one step away from senility? Besides what earthly good is an MA in my field. None. But working from home, this is the one time I could have a go at it, so there you go - that's my explanation. Besides there is this whole body of literature I wouldn't have touched with a bargepole otherwise. I am no longer petrified of Yeats, Chaucer and Shakespeare....and I am the receptacle of totally irrelevant but nonetheless interesting info like-
1. Why Latin, Celtic, Scandinavian and French crept into the English Language
2 . What the Great Vowel Shift is all about
3. That Jacob 'Fairytale' Grimm was a respected philologist
4. The world's coolest Lit site is this one - Sparknotes.com

While none of these are ice-breakers and I doubt if I could squeeze in the importance of the Great Vowel shift in party banter ..what I can tell you for sure is Asterix and Caeser's Gift uses dialogues from Hamlet...and no it is not TO BE OR NOT TO BE.

Coorgi Learnings

2006-03-09T12:11:00.000+06:00

Observations on a 3000 Km Coorgi Roadtrip
There will be a more detailed write up in my new 'travailogue' coorgbreak.blogspot.com when I get around to it - I return enlightened -

Only two people in the whole of Coorg wear saris the Coorgi way. I counted.
The road to Hyderabad is dotted with strange structures in the midst of vast tracts of paddy fields. Far away from civilisation and any technological advancement, these are our future engineers.
Bangalore is a cesspool of dinky cars and petrol fumes
The Reliance Pumps with their massive A1 eateries make great pitstops. You can bathe there for 15 bucks and eat huge dosas for 10 bucks.
Coorgi weddings rock. - home made wine, home made Irish cream., fudge, cakes, heaps of non-veg…….besides Coorgi women are gorgeous, there is no priest, the men look awesome in their Coorgi get up....more on this later on my other blog when I get around to making a posting.
Tigers usually cross the path of all Coorgi’s, whenever they are merely skirting the perimeters of the Nagarhole sanctuary, intent on getting to Mysore.
Tigers shy away from outsiders unless accompanied by aforesaid Coorgis.
When in Coorg, do not stay in the capital (too touristy) instead check it out for a day and stay on a coffee plantation – preferably a homestay. Or camp on a plantation…some of em offer camping space.
Unfortunately getting food when on the move OUTSIDE Medikeri is a killer. None of the homestays offer food to unexpected visitors.
Orange County is a little Lego township-estate with fake Tudor cottages, nice landscaping and a fancy pool. Been there, saw it, didn’t stay – mostly cause a single night’s stay was our entire budget for the trip.
Stay at Faith Cinchona (Kutta) with the Uthayas – they arrange surprise forays into adjacent Wynad sanctuary ;). Contact em on 08274244659. www.coortrails.com is also very helpful.
The outskirts of Bangalore have camouflaged maha-fancy NRI estates (eg Trans Indus) that cannot be detected by the naked eye. The colonies are inhabited solely by maids carrying cellphones and speaking fluent English.
Why does Chennai have outlets called MARRYbrown – sounds like a Panju named it
Covering a distance of 800kms from Chennai to Visag in 10 hours IS possible – we didn’t hit anything.
The Indigo Marina is a hardy car. My respect for it has grown in leaps and bounds. Besides it made a nice bridal car (See Pic Below)

Coorg Snapshots

2006-03-08T16:12:00.000+06:00

(Top to Bottom) ::The Hanging Bridge to the island Nisargadama :: Pam and Roshan in Coorgi getup at the wedding :: Seeking Chettali in Coorg :: Our Marina attends a Coorgi Wedding

On the Road Again

2006-02-19T12:37:00.000+06:00

I haven't made a post in awhile. I am trying to limit the time I spend on the computer - I er..um popped a capillary in my eye. I blame bloggers with a fondess for point size 7 .

As the red splodge slowly clears, am contemplating starting a new blog - a more desi Rough Guide mostly because we are planning another road trip - a bit more relaxing than our 'Amazing Race' Delhi-Vizag jaunt. Sure, in the past year we haven't done much but that doesn't mean we won't do more...

2005
Goa (train/rent a kinetic)
During the Monsoons - 5 Days
Rating: Smashing: skipped the beaches but totally worth it
Travelled to the villages - The interiors of Goa are absolutely gorgeous during the rains. Discovered Cafe Fernando nr Ponda Village - the most amazing restaurant you would have ever seen - I promise ya that.

Delhi-Vizag 'ferrying the New Marina home' Drive
During/Post Monsoons - 3 Days Flat :: Dist : 2500 kms
Rating: A pain in the bum literally, but great fun..(too rushed tho)
Across Rajasthan, MP, Chattisgarh, Orissa, AP - MP, Chattisgarh, Orissa - the ghats are stunning, roads are pretty decent 'cept in Rajasthan where we had an awful time and in MP where a bridge gave way.

2006 : Planning Ahead
Vizag-Hyd-Mysore-Coorg-Conoor-Madras-Vizag
During: 22nd Feb-5th March:: Dist : 2900 kms
Rating: DUNNO YET
The bait is an authentic Coorgi wedding in Mysore, but that is just the excuse. Have been wanting to go to Coorg for more than 8 years now, a friend and I did the Bangalore-Mysore-Conoor trip ages ago but had to turn back just as we reached Madecari mostly coz our parents had the police on our tail. (We were too broke to call back home and they thought they had lost us to the hills).

Coorg is astonishingly expensive - we are taking a tent and will pitch it in someone's estate if the situation gets out of hand. A detailed review to follow when I get back. The nice part is we have a decent digital camera so at least I will have the pics to back up our travels/travails. Until March then.
On the cartoon furor, my sis Anusha sent me a link to professional cartoonist Dary Cage's Blog -it has the latest updates not to mention the 'fatwas' issued against the cartoonist. His cartoons about the Muhammad Cartoons are a riot - pun not intended. Caught a neat movie over the weekend 51ST STATE - has ANYBODY heard of it coz I sure hadn't and was pleasantly surprised. Sorta a Pulp Fiction meets bad ass Kill Bill chick movie. Thanks for that Korula

Cartoons Published in Egypt?!!

2006-02-14T14:49:00.000+06:00

A friend of mine came across a very interesting link regarding the cartoons that has the entire Islamic community in a spin. This is posted by a Cairo based Blogger -

"They were actually printed in the Egyptian Newspaper Al Fagr back in October 2005. I repeat, October 2005, during Ramadan, for all the egyptian muslim population to see, and not a single squeak of outrage . Al Fagr isn't a small newspaper either: it has respectable circulation in Egypt, since it's helmed by known Journalist Adel Hamoudah. Looking around in my house I found the copy of the newspaper, so I decided to scan it and present to all of you to see."

Cheers Sandmonkey, I hope this is the real thing - and thanks Nick!

President Fleet Review

2006-02-11T23:11:00.000+06:00

The First Ever Presidential Fleet Review on the East Coast - in VIZAG!

Had the massive good fortune of bagging a pass for the final rehearsal of the President's Fleet Review here in Vizag. D-Day (12th Feb) is off-limits as only VVVIPS embark on the actual PFR though I could go to RK beach to see some half assed demos, illumination and fireworks. Nah...too touristy.

THIS was the real Mc.Coy Sailed on the Presidential yacht (INS Sukanya) - and crossed all the ships at anchorage as the entire ship's company stood at attention and doffed their peak caps to the Presidential ship. Bloody impressive.

BELOW :: INS VIRAAT India's only aircraft carrier, the white splodges are the almost 1000 crew of sailors and officers saluting the Prez.

ABOVE: Also saw the super gorgeous INS TARANGINI - India's only sailing-training boat. Unfortunately the sails were replaced by the ship's signal flags (decoration for the Prez).

FOOTNOTE: Abdul Kalaam is gonna be the first Indian president to step aboard (not to mention DIVE) in a submarine. George Fernandes was the first (and only) Indian defence minister do dive on a sub. While Kalaam's 'dive' on the submarine SINDHURAKSHAK is being catered to with hors d'oeuvre and bone china, Fernandes got no such frills coz the Commanding Officer of the sub wanted him to realise what the average submariner goes thru. The CO was pulled up - hmm...so much for a reality check.

Comedy in the Muslim World

2006-02-07T11:34:00.000+06:00

Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World - What makes muslims laugh? I dunno but it certainly isn't satire. If a series of cartoons in a Danish (or was it Norwegian) newspaper could raise such a furor, it makes you wonder - how many of those protestors have actually SEEN the cartoons? But then hey, how many read the Satanic Verses before baying for Rushdie's blood?

The Ed of the newspaper refuses to apologise, the office workers have been issued death threats, there have been bomb scares and muslims worldwide are turning their collective noses up at Danish cheese. Many venerable institutions including the Washington Post and The New York Times have depicted Jesus, not always in the best of light.

I believe in a free press, though lately even that has taken some beating. Sure, there is no such thing as free press but surely the editorial is entitled to its opinions. But then again, I could be wrong. It's a no-win situation.

So what is the big deal about these cartoons? I scoured the net and this is the best I could get -"The cartoons include portrayal of the prophet wearing a time bomb shaped turban and show him as a wild-eyed, knife-wielding Bedouin flanked by two women shrouded in black."

Traditionally Islam bans the depiction of the prophet as it could lead to idolatry. But apparently this is not what has our fellow Muslims pissed off. Meanwhile 'Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World' will take a lot of looking..

The Boston Globe Editorial is worth a read. Check it out

Rangeen Basanti

2006-02-03T18:40:00.000+06:00

Bhagat Singh got a trial, Karan, DJ, Suki and Aslam didn't. Was the irony intentional?

One of the finest movies I have seen in recent years 'Rang De' struck a chord somwhere. Perhaps it has something to do with having studied in the North Campus and hanging out with friends at unlikely places. Or then again DJ was the epitome of so many guys I knew at DU and JNU - a guy who is terrified to quit the campus where he is well known and face the world where he is a nonentity.

I could identify with a lot of things and stomach only so much - IHC a college (WHOA!) not to mention Pataudi's Palace a ghar. To be honest I didn't see the twists coming and that by itself is a big plus. Add to that the lack of melodrama and the fact that Aamir did not hog the camera. Now if this had have been a Sharukh Khan or a Kamal Hassan movie, Sukhi and the rest would have been relegated to the wings as the slavering sidekicks. Aamir is a fine actor - so is nearly everyone in this movie.

"Take No Survivors"
Apparently such an order is illegal even in the Defence Forces let along the Rapid Action Force. Code Red be damned a junior officer can refuse to follow such a command and yes, he won't be court-martialled. Also the bit about political prisoners having to be provided with newspapers still holds true.

For a more detailed review check out JAM Ed's take Here

VISAG or VIZAG

2006-02-01T18:31:00.000+06:00

A vigalente (Hyderabad based) blogger pointed out that I spell Visag wrong. Ah, don't I know that, but it never struck me anybody would notice. Especially considering most people I left behind in Mumbai haven't the faintest clue where i disappeared to. Years of editing appalling articles has its repercussions, the abhorrence to the Americani's'ation of English has its pitfalls. But yup - henceforth I shall stick with VIZAG - in the dim hope of mellowdrama being thrown up by a search engine (on page 88). I googled it, how sad am I?

God bless online radio, dunno what i would do without it. Tune in to Virgin Classic Rock or play it on Windows Media Player. Reading 48 Rules of Power (Robert Greene) - the first 'self help' book I have ever actually read - the usual gyan but interspered with historical references - pretty neat. I surprise myself.

Surviving Summer

2006-01-29T18:31:00.000+06:00

I have just been informed, for the 14th time, that this season's must have is an A/C. Apparently non-Andhraites are mostly ill-prepared for the scorching summer and shrivel to prune like textures. Meanwhile it is still a bit nippy and I spotted a 'harcore-Puneite-forced to shift-to-Visag' in a thick sweater yesterday. Ahem! The nice thing about the Indian Navy is it is SO convenient - you meet all the flakes in one place. And the nicer thing about Visag is, they are ALWAYS around to entertain you.

The Dead Body Guy

2006-01-27T12:21:00.000+06:00

"Help me live my dream....let me play dead." The Dead Body Guy is no wannabe actor - in fact he does not want to act at all. The latest is, he has actually bagged a role quite literally - in a body bag. You gotta love the guy!

There are enough people vying for attention, and if you read about the guys who dropped their pants in a subway somewhere - they will strike again. Their agenda? Cause scenes. My personal favourite - the fake U2 On the Rooftop Concert.

"Did I mention that this whole time we were being filmed in High-Definition Wide Screen for Japanese television?" MUAHAHHAHAHAH! Dunno if it was even better than the real thing but it sure as hell was funnier!

Narina Vs The Alienist

2006-01-24T13:00:00.000+06:00

It took a shift from Mumbai to Visag for me to realise the art of living..

Why bother with expecations. Really - not only do you save time (the time spent carefully building/harboring those precious illusions)but hey, you are always pleasantly surprised when things look up.

Take this book I picked up at the library - THE ALIENIST - Caleb Carr. Never heard of the author, the cover and the size (600 pages) looked forbidding and the story set in 19th century England sounded suspiciously like Jack the Ripper. But once I waded through the first chapter it was absolutely kickass!! A definitive must read - this is detection at its best using pure psychology - well before fingerprinting, Social Security Nos, DNA reports and body reconstruction sorta ruined the genre for me.

Then again, I saw the CHRONICLES OF NARNIA...being a CS Lewis fan since I was 8, it was a defining moment. Ah well, yes it was beautifully rendered, hell, Mr. Tulmnus even looked liked the illustration in the book and the ghouls and beasties were awesome! Funnily enough I didn't quite enjoy it. Perhaps because it dragged or maybe it was because Susan was a sod and Peter a wimp. Not to mention teeny Lucy who looked like a squashed adult.

Edmund was the only one who seemed relatively human. Anyhow loved the witch - was it just me or did she look like Cate Blanchett in "Elizabeth' - neat dreadlocks.

Beach Mein

2006-01-06T15:05:00.000+06:00

The beachs are AMAZING. This was taken from Dolphin Hill - a naval area near my place - my folks never really digested the fact that Visag aka Visakapataman is pretty. The only thing terrible about this place is the lack of entertainment and the ridiculous road sense the average Andhra-ite possesses. Maybe it's coz the village is still getting used to being a town. People use the road divider as footpaths and amble onto the road when the urge hits 'em. Oh and they DO NOT BUDGE. Thankfully I have experience. I have driven in Delhi - where there are cows.

Who says Visag Sucks?

2006-01-05T18:18:00.000+06:00

When I first announced I am moving to Visag, someone at work asked me, "Which country"..hmm that spoke volumes ...and considering this place is barely marketed and rarely written about - I think I have a muse...a VISAG blog that will put this place in the world map. Well at least India's map and considering they have opened a Big B here, my work might just get easier.

Far Far Away

2005-10-11T16:18:00.000+06:00

I should feel ashamed of myself, considering I have ignored this sad stab at a blog for as long as I could. Anyway, here I am in a different city light years from Mumbai. I came with no expectations and now I love it - well so far so good. And it isn't really the boondocks - they have a Cafe coffee day, heaps of five stars we can actually afford, a lounge bar - heck they even have a Big B outlet. We are on India;s map. Here is what I have learnt in the past few months -

1. Money isn't everything, not if what you are earning is the jam. Not if you are in visag!
2. Freelancing rules, the trick is persistence and spam.
3. I can drive - and I am not scared of traffic!! Hurrrrrah, drove close to 700 kms from Delhi to Visag...went up to 120 kms/hr. I am good and I didn't even know it!
4. The Indigo Marina is a damn comfy car - takes some getting used to.
5. Stealing a Gemini from a Naval submarine and going for a joyride around the Visag harbour is awesome - even when you almost get run down by the fleet when you run out of petrol.
6. A Huge big bookself is this season's must have accessory. WHAT WAS I DOING ALL THIS TIME!
7. Beaches are real pretty especially when viewed from a hill top with a vodka in one hand.
8. Barbeque on Doplhin hill view point one has its disadvantages, everyone now knows us as the noisy group with a large marina and an effective sound system.
9. Babies are fun, adopted or otherwise as long as you are not changing the diapers,
10 Visag makes everyone a bitch to some degree - me? I am busy freelancing ;)

2005-03-28T16:00:00.000+06:00

Hanging out)

2005-03-28T15:57:00.000+06:00

The peaks of Mahuli

These are a few of my fav scripts

2005-03-28T15:54:00.000+06:00

I hate twiddling my thumbs and staring blankly at the computer screen, both of which I have been doing a lot lately- my assignments having mysteriously slunk into that deep, dark recess of workoland.

So I scoured the net for some of my favourite movie scripts.

MOVIE SCRIPTS
- www.script-o-rama.com
- www.simplyscripts.com

It was a pleasant surprise to stumble across the script of 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' - an 80's comedy that instilled in me strong values - namely of putting one over the principal, bunking school and whizzing off in a red Ferrari.

WHY THE MOVIE ROCKS - MY FAVOURITE quotes
Ferris, my father loves this car more than life itself.
Ferris Bueller: A man with priorities so far out of whack doesn't deserve such a fine automobile.

I do have a test today, that wasn't bullsh**.
It's on European Socialism. I mean, really, what's the point? I'm not European. I don't plan on being European. So, who gives a crap if they're Socialists? They could be fascist anarchists, it still wouldn't change the fact that I don't own a car.

Trekking to Mahuli

2005-03-14T15:15:00.000+06:00

Mataji Travels - The Minutes of the Meeting
Date: 12th-13th March 2005
Mataji Tour Operator: Ivan (Henceforth referred to as TO)
Mataji Members: Dhanoo, Ashish, Nitin, Rama, Manesh and Shikha
Destination: Mataji’s Mahuli

Ashish has a book on trekking that gives us our first BIG tip about our experiece-to-be: ‘When you reach Mahuli yell Mataji and this amazingly benevolent lady will emerge from the shrine and see to your food at no cost.’ We are impressed by this pearl of wisdom and vow to yell Mataji at every temple from Asangaon to Mahuli.

7.06: Ashish and Dhanoo on the other side of the tracks, we are waiting for the local train at VT Station. The boys discover I am not carrying the booze and nor is anyone else. Hopes pinned on Ashish on the other side.

7.08 : Ashish yells, “Arrey mahuli mein wineshop rahega” - dammit it!! (Will there be booze available at Mahuli?)

7.20 : We all manage to grab space together. Chap selling tiny torches for 10 bucks, which actually work. Manesh wallows in self-pity the rest of the way - his 90 buck (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) torch has conked out. Muahahah.

9.30 : Asangaon Ahoy! TO wants us to walk along the tracks. We want to follow the road. For once TO is right. We are impressed with his immense knowledge.

9.50 : We come to a signboard where (in 10 foot letters) is marked the way to the Jain temple. Which will lead us to Mataji. We point out same to TO and are reprimanded. “I KNOW THE WAY OKAY!!” We follow him, TO asks every truck driver in sight the way. We are sent back to the Signboard. Our faith in TO is visibly shattered.

10.30 : The Temple of the Gods We see the flashy Jain temple (with Bhojanale). We scoff at this gaudy display of luxury and excess - we move on.

11.30 : We have reached a temple, no one in sight. We manage to find an inhospitable old lady trying her best to ignore us in an adjoining hut. She is not the real thing. We are disappointed. Apparently Mataji is in Hawaii and this lady shows no signs of benevolence or free food.

12.00 : We eat buttered potatoes and burnt to a crisp mushrooms not to mention Cup Noodles!!

12.50 : No body is snoring coz no body is sleeping. And just when we do fall asleep we are awoken by a strange scampering near the wicket gate. Ashish and Manesh on either end are the first targets so the rest of us aren’t too worried.

7.00 am : The trek to begin! TO does a detailed reconnaissance – “We have three points, where do you want to go?” Our faith is reinstated.

9.30 : Dead tired but the view is kickass. Dhanoo low on sugar and not feeling well so we decided to call it quits, the top isn’t far but still. TO most upset, in his “30 years of service” he has ALWAYS reached his destination. We remind him the last time he was here he only made it to the stream near the station. He points out huffily that THAT was the destination.

9.30 : We start heading down, we are worried about Nitin’s mental state - he smells rice.

11.00 We are back! We pray to the absconding mataji for an auto. It is bloody hot and we cannot trek the 15 kms to the station.

12.20am : Hallelujah! Our prayers are answered - We sight an auto. – Jai Mataji!

Hungama's Sit Down Comedian

2004-12-23T11:14:00.000+06:00

She-who-must-not-be-named is a certain somebody at work who is so funny, it hurts. Some instances of her (displaced) wit in action. Read at your own risk, if anybody knows more Pinchuisms, don't be shy...add 'em. Will give ya credit!

I was so pissed off, I SENT her a piece of my mind

The event is taking place in my backside (backyard??)

You don't know? She has frilly hair (Curly+Frizzy)

Gee you don't have hair, is your mother bald?

You should have been with Kalpana Chawla.
...Er she is dead
Not where Kalpana is now, where she was then

Specs are Speaks, Copy Check is Choppy Check: (Dyslexia abounds)

He is a Big Shit in this company (Shot Shot!!!!!!!!!!)

After marriage I will BE a New leaf altogether
Um..don't you mean TURN a new leaf?
But Why will I TURN a new leaf I will BE a new leaf

You don't have a maid? So you are the maid?

World Press Photos

2004-12-20T10:49:00.000+06:00

Went for the photo exhibition at the Express Towers - it started off innocuously enough. Three of us, chatting, laughing, commenting – my friend being the photo expert at hand, pointed out the finer nuances.

And then we came across the Indian Award winning photo (a boy crying as he informs his parents about his sister's suicide, the body in the background). Not particularly well shot, even a bit fuzzy if you ask me…but apparently it did the trick, it captured the moment – the mark of a true photo journalist. Is this what it is, standing around and clicking a boy’s despair? There was nothing even remotely brave about it. So what was the big deal? It was just sheer lucking stumbling into this photo opportunity, but what deemed it award worthy?

In contrast the award winning International photos were astounding. From the jungles of Africa to the war in Iraq– we had no words, what could we say. The three of us split up, we could not even make eye contact – it was that personal. The photos were shocking, yes – affecting – absolutely but what really depressed me, more than the abject misery in those images was the sheer intrusiveness of that lens. Yeah it's all in a day' work, but I guess you need to develop a certain callousness to get those pictures right.

Sex in the City

2004-12-02T16:04:00.000+06:00

One privileged school, 2 stupid kids, one sleek camera phone – the act captured for posterity….hell almost or until the next gen of cam phones replace the existing.

Heard this disturbing bit of news from a Delhi friend when I was on the net. Help I am disconnected from the grapevine - I never watch the telly, I do not read the TOI…

gurpreet says:
i saw the clear video
gurpreet says:
the woman is happily doing her job with her shirt off
gurpreet says:
and she's in school uniform too !!
gurpreet says:
everyone does everything today.... the asses should atleast do it responsibly
gurpreet says:
the bimbo didnt bother to check if the guy was taking a video

Ok so we are a nation of voyeurs. Isn’t the whole world? We are parasites feeding off spent blood and the miseries of humanity. Only because it makes our existences seem so much more - well - safer, nicer, wonderful??

Just read the ‘Bonfire of the Vanities’ and it was a damn good read, especially the bit about the mind being treated as an open cavity where the entire village dwells. Without the jungle, without the village, there are no minds. Social animals..that's us and for those who want out there is no escape...the curse of the global village!

Isn't a blog another voyeuristic spinoff? I don't want to know the sordid details of your love life and hell, you sure don't want to know anything about me. So why bother? Er..really?? Why?

2004-12-02T15:48:00.000+06:00

Shack on extreme right cut from the picture wuz ours. Shacks at Palolem wonly Rs 300 per night - loo sharing basis

Stuck in the Bogs of Time

2004-11-17T11:53:00.000+06:00

Back from a fabulous vacation and stuck with an assignment that smacks of Post Summer Holiday Blues - 'Write What you Did'. Aaaargh!!

Looks like I will be doing that along with other earth shattering activities like
1. Sort out my CDs
2. Paint the Kitchen
3. Chuck the ratty clothes
4. Call up the obscure uncle who might leave me his fortune someday

See, this is the problem, it all sees so simple and so obvious yet I shudder to do it. Okay so I could blame it on ADD - my mainstay, but there is so much to do...starting with those 4 library books that are overdue. Where does time fly? I don't party, I don't get stoned, I don't even work late so what gives!!

1: Cut down on sleep? A possibility, but it screws your system
2: Multitask some more. Nah...already do that and it is NOT helping!!!!!
3. Create a time table for Weekends. Have my chore list on my fridge with NO TICKS
4. Live for the moment, enjoy what I have. Sounds most promising

Perhaps I plan too much and then that fear bogs me down. That is the only conclusion I can draw:( If anyone out there has any ideas...HELP!

Trite and (I'm) Prejudiced - THE JUDGEMENT

2004-10-11T17:21:00.000+06:00

Bride and Prejudice - Unveiled: The review is in folks
(Saw it in BLACK- 150 bucks for a bloody 40 buck seat..maybe that is why I am pissed)

What It's About: Apparently inspired by Jane Austin’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ ‘Bride and Prejudice’ is no ‘Bend it’, hell it ‘ain’t even close to Chawla’s brilliant ‘Bhaji on the Beach’.

Unabashedly Punju and blatantly Bollywood, this noisy 3 hour (was it, sure seemed like it) movie just trundles from one miserably choreographed song to another with Ash batting her baby blues and playing a total numskull. I don’t see her going the Hollywood route where there are enough gories with pretty eyes who CAN act. Well, let’s face it, the lady can’t even begin to emote – talk about zzzzzombies.

The Story: Liz (Ash as Lalita) hates Darcy (Hendersen as Darcy) – she thinks he is stuck up, such a phirang and a brat, she misunderstands his intentions and falls for the charms of an unsavoury backpacker. Rest of the movie is about how Darcy shows her the error of her ways. Ho Hum! Lalita’s ma (Nandira Babbar) is easily the show stealer, she is fabulous as the loudmouthed, crass Punju mom. Anupam Kher is the wallflower for a change - you hardly hear a peep outta him.

The Good Stuff: Meghnaa’s nagin dance, Mr. Kohli trying to woo Lalita, the baywatch type lifeguards doing a Bollywood shimmy, the bloopers as the end credits roll – yup you have to wait that long to get your jollies.

The Lousy Stuff: Ash Ash and Ash – she sucks!! The songs are godawful, the script a bore and hey this might impress the phirang junta but sorry, we have enough unpalatable Bollywood fare as is, we don’t need a crossover to add to the mess.

The Rating: 2 = 1 for sheer effort and enthusiasm + 1 for seeing the Phirangs gyrate to tacky Bollywood type songs.

Beneath the Sea is where a fish should be

2004-10-09T16:58:00.000+06:00

I guess I am in a great mood 'cause i actually found this funny:) Love this song, like the band..and hey whaddya now that Goa mailer i worked for wasn't in vain. I might really actually totally be going, Come on Hungama, we have GOT to goah!

Story of a man,
Who decided not to breathe.
Turned red, purple, then blue.
Colorful indeed.
No matter how his friends begged,
Well, he would not concede,
And now he's dead.
You see, cause everybody knows,
You got to breathe.

But, oh God, Under the weight of life,
Things seem brighter on the other side...
Lighter on the other side...

Big Eyed Fish
Dave Matthews Band

Funny Days and Sundays

2004-10-08T16:44:00.000+06:00

There are some days and then there are SOME days like yesterday when I had to conjure up a script in a scant 2 hrs. Anyway, today made up for it in more ways than one - a string of funny incidents and being appreciated..ah, who doesn't like to be thanked.

Like in the morning I had to go to the derm for a particularly pesky problem (foot woes) and accordingly he made me cool my heels for 2 ruddy hours - hell, the skin had healed by the time I got my appt. Anyway on my way out I had to cross the Gynae ward and HALP what DO I see - a heavily pregnant friend (who by the by I have been trying to avoid) who hollered,""WHY DIDN"T YOU TELL ME"..er what? That I have athlete's foot? Hehhe..anyway her bashful husband was appropriately mollified.When I get pregnant I will put up a billboard OK.

2004-10-04T15:07:00.000+06:00

Lakshadweep - Been there, Did Dive - October 2003. Wish I could go there again

Make a Wish Foundation

2004-09-30T10:58:00.000+06:00

Here's the deal, the 10 things I WILL DO - before I die, 36 is a good age to die. But then when I was 14 I thought once you cross the dreaded 25 you have lost it. When you are on a first name basis with the aunties of your neighbourhood (ie. you refrain from calling aunties-aunties) you KNOW you are nearing ur 30s.

My laundry list of things to do before I kick the bucket.

Not in order of preference

1. GOGOAOGOGOA

2. Travel on a bike on a shoestring budget - n one backpack only

3. Go White water rafting again and again and again

4. Get that tattoo after I get inoculated for Hep. a b - can never be too sure

5. Scuba Diving in the Andamans - I wanna be a qualified diver!! A pox on my weak eyes if only I had 6 by 6 god given vision

7. Make a superhuman effort to be nice to bastards

8. Have a daughter and NOT discipline her...at least not in that dictatorial fashion. WILL be a friend no matter how messy she is and who she dates.

9. Be more patient and calm - er..this is a WISHlist aint it, so sue me

10. Get a hold on my imagination, esp considering reality and fiction is getting all mixed up. Did I or didn't I, or waassit my fertile imagination. Dreaming in techicolour is a curse - at least if I dream in b/w i could seperate fact from fiction. Oh yeah also read more sensibile literature - non-fiction and not utilise same only for bed time reading.

Singing the Blues

2004-09-22T12:48:00.000+06:00

Tsk tsk...stooping to cliches does not forbear any good. Damn why do people conform? Is it because they are too scared to be themselves, is it because they have to coz what will blessed society say otherwise. Or am I just ranting coz I can't even though I want to..er maybe. I don't know that is what really scares me and hell I am not bloody 22. I ought to know! Quo Vadis? Hehe.. I am in a LOUSY crappy mood and it is NOT getting better. Ahem though cough cough, do note I abstain frm profanities. Promise to cut down on the F**K but hey I can't go cold turkey completely so sticking with bloody and damn. And right now I am bloody damn hungry, so I am outta here like a bat out of hell with the mood to match.

Work is a Beach

2004-09-09T12:55:00.000+06:00

I am working on a mailer for a company that is trying to "create excitement and generate a postive response" for a conference in Goa. GOA!! GOA!!!!!!!!!!! Goddamn it what kind of gits work over there anyway? Probably the kind who live below rocks and crawl out for sunshine once a month.

The total lack of response on my end in seeing this blog kickin' is probably because this is what I do for a living and I have to conserve my energy for the day ahead. Apologies all around but who the hell is reading this anyway?

Hehe..I want to see Dhoom, I want to see Phir Milenge. So sue me. I do happen to have good taste having thoroughly enjoyed Kill Bill 2. Work is a killer, they kicked out one copywriter, another had a bun in the oven which is doing fine by the by and here I am - the last crusader with her one standing soldier.

Spidey 2 - All Web. No Fly

2004-07-24T11:02:00.000+06:00

Saw 'Spidey 2' and surprise despite the hype and the hoopla I actually liked it - all frills, no story.

Spider-Man 3 in a nutshell: MJ divorces Spider-Man for his one fling too many. Green Gob aka Harry uses peer pressure to get Peter on his side. Peter undergoes therapy as he comes to terms with his schizo self. MJ puckers up for a return.

Highlight: Discovered quaint eatery behind Regal called Bayside Cafe: totally worth it and remember you read it here first - they never advertise.

Random Ramblings from an Easily Distracted Individual

2004-07-22T15:12:00.000+06:00

I have junked my distress diary for a blog and cold turkey certainly isn't pleasant. I miss the feel of the paper, the smell of the paper, the splotches of ink on my fingers. This is so much more ...er antiseptic? Well I am on zen mode, go with the flow and besides this is fun coz now I get paid to post...hehe during office hours. Currently I am not depressed or low so the words aren't quite flowing. Wasn't it a wise man who said that dejection is the trademark of a writer? Hehe..for instance would Wilde have been quite as prolific if the world hadn't treated him as a freak? Hmm...food for thought..which reminds me how the hell did they come up with that one. Can you picture the brain like this salivating mouth digesting facts and churning out crap? Ah...but I digress once again, My train of thought takes a detour.

Now getting back to what I had in mind. People are morbid - excessively so. I have these friends going through some rather messy divorces/break-ups and the space monkeys want all the details, grappling for every juicy morsel that comes their way. Goddamn it - live and let live : doesn' t work in the smaller towns. I shudder to think I might get reduced to one of them if I shift to Visag or Kochi. Brrrrr...may my bones crumble and my intestines shrivel before THEY GET ME.