Neither! Simbly Bored...

6 weeks

2008-02-07T09:38:00.000+05:30

6 weeks to complete a quarter century of living.

6 weeks before I meet for the second time the person I'm going to marry.

6 weeks to plan and look the most beautiful I ever have.

6 weeks to figure out what it means to be single.

6 weeks to be daddy's little girl.

6 weeks to having mommy pamper me with threats and a lunch box.

6 weeks of thinking of me and me alone.

6 weeks before I'm a daughter-in-law.

6 weeks before "home" means something different.

6 weeks to enjoy living in Hyderabad.

6 weeks before I have to worry about mundane things like groceries. (well maybe 10 weeks for that).

6 weeks before I pack up everything in this room and leave.

6 weeks of work before I quit (well, actually, thats only 5 weeks of work).

6 weeks of watching soaps on Sahara One.

6 weeks of shouting at my parents to let them know how much I need them to take care of themselves.

6 weeks of keeping the name I was born with...

6 weeks of madness...

6 weeks of uncertaininty

6 weeks of solitude

6 weeks of nervousness

6 weeks of dreams

6 weeks of anticipation

6 weeks of wondering

6 weeks to grow up.

6 weeks before my life changes forever...

Sisterhood

2008-02-07T05:12:00.000+05:30

For a long time, I always wished I was the older sibling instead of the younger one. I always associated being the older one with being more free. I associated it with being ahead in terms of living, experience, and well... There's an awful analogy for this one (sorry Johnnie) It's like finding a car ahead of you on the road that you want to overtake but you just can't no matter how hard you try.

But when I spend time with Avu, some of that frustration seems to vanish. She just reminds me of myself two years ago. And to her I can pass on some of the more closely guarded secrets of survival in a horribly maddeningly hostilely strangely wonderful world... And to her I can talk of life and hopes and marriage and frustration and dreams and plans and tell her... Hang in there girl. The next two years are not going to be quite as bad as they look from where you are. And I can see how far I have come in the last two years...

We seem to be quite clear in the way we define certain relationships. The ideal Parent-child relationship. Husband-Wife too... And friends. Ideal friendship we call it. But we never seem to have a definition of what ideal siblings are like. Are they supposed to be friends? Do siblings behave in a certain way? Does being born to the same parents become reason enough to love each other all your lives in a way you don't even understand or can never really begin to define? I have no clue.

But I do know that in life, some bonds are not defined by blood alone. Some of the people I have been closest to, some of the people I have never really had trouble understanding, the people I have shared a bit of myself with are the ones with whom I don't really have to.

Maybe it's the having to that makes all the difference. No one ever told me I had to do something and got away with it...

Shopping at Charminar

2008-01-28T09:11:00.000+05:30

Sure Sign I'm Getting Married...

Sure Sign I'm Still a Kid...

I think I really do need to grow up in many ways...

Confidences...

2008-01-22T01:14:00.000+05:30

I feel like a fool sometimes... Given how much I believe those I believe. And the supreme confidence I place in my belief that I'm as important to them as they are to me. I fall flat on my face a lot of times. But that doesn't prevent me from getting up and trying again.

But somewhere, with every confirmation of the fact that very few people share their lives with you as much as you share yours with them, my faith in people erodes.

I wish people were a little less self involved sometimes. I wish people would sometimes think a little about others too. I wish people would be a little more aware of the impact they have on someone elses life. And I wish friends were really as easy to find as I dream they are...

That's Some Girl!

2008-01-17T08:16:00.000+05:30

''She's the kinda girl that will call you on your bullshit. She isn't afraid to dance and she offers to pay. She doesn't decide before a date whether or not she's gonna kiss you; she's not earnest, yet she's not completely ironic either...She orders dessert and she can be ready in ten minutes...''

No no. That's definitely not me. That's about someone I know from school. But reading that made me think. What would people I know write about me?

Any opinions?

The Little Green Dot

2008-01-14T01:02:00.000+05:30

The first few weeks at work were unnerving for me. I can handle work I have never done before. I can handle making friends in a place where I know no one. I can handle being stared at as a specimen in the zoo because of being "Sastry Sir's Daughter". But what I cannot handle is being left out in the wilderness without any contact with friends. Messengers were out. Meebo was out. Blogger was out. What was I to do?

For a while, I felt isolated from the world. As though all my friends were out there getting on with their lives and I had no clue what was happening. But strangely, when I do have the chance to ping people, I find that I don't really want to. What is it about that little smiley or green dot next to a persons name on a display that makes the whole thing so oddly comforting or reassuring?

I think that as people, we crave company whether we actually admit it or not. We could have no trouble making friends, but at the end of it all, we really want to sit with out little group of special people and know that we can share a moment of lightness and a few brief words of conversation. There used to be hangouts when we were in school and college. The corner table at the canteen, the dosa wala under the big unidentifiable tree, the bus stop, the playground, or wherever else... Things move a lot faster now. In two years, most of the people I know have moved on into new jobs, different cities and in some cases different countries too (me included). But as time moves on and we get ever so caught up in our lives, the one thing that brings the same reassurance is the little green dot next to a persons name.

I sign into gtalk on my phone now. And it's literally a pain to chat so I rarely do. But I still can't bring myself to sign out. Because to see those people where I can reach them is a wonderful feeling... :-)

If

2008-01-11T21:45:00.000+05:30

If I had a choice...

If I could afford a car instead of taking public transport

If I could afford to eat apples flown in from across the globe

If I could afford unlimited utility bills If I could dress how I like by just adjusting the thermostat a little

If I could afford to buy the 15 rupees sambar kit (cut vegetables packed in stryofoam and cling wrap) off the shelf

If I could afford to buy instead of repair...

Would I do what's right for the planet?

Sometimes, I think we expect the Americans to be saints...

What I Got in the Mail Just Now

2008-01-09T01:02:00.000+05:30

Please follow the link below and support Team India.

It's a one of an important news channel in Australia.Here's the link. Please vote NO to support India.

news.com.au/poll/1,,5007133-5032443,00.html

Please Vote "NO"

No Comments...

Are We Raceist?

2008-01-08T03:44:00.000+05:30

Casteist, Regionalist and Colour Conscious? Perhaps.

But Raceist?

Deserving Happiness

2008-01-08T00:51:00.000+05:30

Don’t you feel you deserve happiness after everything you’ve gone through?
But nobody ever said it was going to be easy. You get in trouble if you think somehow you have magic fairydust put over you when you were born and the fairy godmother said, ‘this child gets spared of any pain.’

Here's where I read it (during my post lunch google news surfing)... Nicole Likes to Stay Humble

It's quite an odd thing because it reminds me of the thoughts that were in my head last night. Questions that have no answers. It is true that life doesn't really make sense without pain. And it is also true that it's pain that brings out sides of you you never knew. But is it possible to ever really forget something that hurt deeply? Do the scars really go away? Or does it all surface at odd moments of vulnerability reminding you that nothing is real?

After Mumbai

2008-01-07T21:17:00.000+05:30

After Mumbai

A number of thoughts arise... Are molesters beginning to believe that there's safety in numbers?

Should some men be subjected to being groped and abused in public?

Should senior police officials be given a feel of what it's like to be verbally and physically abused?

Is this the crime of the season?

Are these men really so desperate?

Can we pass a legistlation that prohibits drunk men from being out on the streets just for the heck of it?

Will the safety of women become such a concern for us that we will not be allowed to step out of home anymore?

What would happen if we continued to kill baby girls and the gender ratio became (a realistic possiblity) 2 men for every woman or more?

Absolute Confusion

2008-01-04T20:40:00.000+05:30

All right then... Someone tell me this...

What is a pure crape/crepe sari? What is the difference between Georgette and Chiffon and which is more expensive? What does an antique finish mean? How do you recognize a real Kanchi Pattu? How can you tell that the zari is 100%? How do you recognize a high end Pochampalli sari? What is the difference between a Venkatagiri and a Gadwal weave? Which is easier to maintain? Crepe or Chiffon? Does net really look elegant in a Ghaghra?

The one who answers most gets a prize!

I Like This one...

2008-01-04T11:18:00.000+05:30

Movie on Benazir

Random Thoughts

2007-12-28T21:02:00.000+05:30

Religious fundamentalism

Benazir Bhutto

Perceptions

Theories

Obvious Truth

Fabricated Lies

History

Wishlist - II

2007-12-28T02:09:00.000+05:30

[begin crib]

I want...

A couple of days to all alone when I can be with myself, pamper myself and just return relaxed and with clear skin

Someone to handle administrative details of planning vacations, tickets, trips and such like

To not worry about foreign exchange

To skip my appraisal at work...

To not appear a constant whiner.

When I think back, I realize that in the last two years, the only real time I spent by myself doing nothing was one day in Bombay.

I just want some time by myself. Aaarrrghhhh!!

[end crib]

Wardrobe Woes

2007-12-27T19:53:00.000+05:30

A long time ago, I turned anti-consumerist, anti-clutter and all that sort of thing. And I wrote this: http://merablogpadho.wordpress.com/2007/02/10/the-happiness-sale/

Then, a few months later, as the proud owner of a clean wardrobe, I wrote this: http://merablogpadho.wordpress.com/2007/05/19/girlie-gyan/

Now, on the verge of getting married, as a proud owner of a collection of clothes-that-have-last-through-the-ages, I write this...

Before we begin, let me hasten to add that the two posts referred to above are not contradictory. The 'ideal wardrobe' is more about essentials than about numbers. It's about knowing what you want to wear than about actually having more than you need.

This said, let me now talk about the problem at hand...

I am about to get married (those who didn't know this yet please raise your hands!). This in essence means that I shall be under public scrutiny for about three days. So, I have had to shop for saris of all kinds. From ultra heavy jhatka gold to light weight no gold please! This is a collection of about a dozen saris, none of which I shall either wear or carry with me once I move out.

I have a few weeks of vacation after that. This means I need jeans, capris, t-shirts and kurtis and all that sort of thing. All my jeans are now ripped at the hem at last. While I interpret that to mean that they've reached the most respectable phase of their career, my mother views it as an inability to provide her daughter with clothes that are not torn. Add a couple of pairs of jeans to that shopping list then...

The last t-shirt I bought was quite a few months ago. All t-shirts in the wardrobe have either been absorbed into moms collection of dusters or will be by March. Same goes for the kurti's. Add items to shopping cart.

I've had a new job for the last three months, with a new dress code of salwar kameez (formals, actually, but no one around seems to be wearing them). I wear only the cotton, run colour, need starch and hand wash variety. All salwars are worn out, and have not been replenished for a while. I need to spend a couple of weeks playing good bahu, cannot wear jeans. Add low maintenance salwar kameez to the list.

Has a pattern begun to emerge? I believe it has. No woman worth her mascara would admit it, but here I do. I need clothes, but I am in no mood to shop... Why do guys have it so easy?

Quote

2007-12-19T10:40:00.000+05:30

The easiest and the hardest thing to believe of friends perhaps is that they will still be around by the time you return from your journey into yet unknown realms of madness...

Reality Meets Illusion

2007-12-19T03:00:00.000+05:30

So, he asked...

Main kyon kar raha hun, jo main kar raha hun

I replied...

My take, it's always simpler to keep the context of the illusion in mind but pretend everything is real... That lets you eat a lot of chocoalte and later pass off the prosperous waisline as maya ;-)

It reminds me of a song I sang a long time ago... Raag Shankara, I think it was... (I still haven't figured out how to add hindi to a wordpress post, please excuse)

Sab Praani jan aat jaat hai
Koi Na Samjhe Maaya Bandhan

Quite Profound

2007-12-18T11:14:00.000+05:30

Having magic doesn't make anything easier, she said. "If everyone were given a wand ...," she started. (Spotting one fan with a wand, she pointed to him and added as an aside, "You've already got one! I hope that's not trained on me!") "... The world would be strangely similar," she continued. "Because nearly everyone, and not just because you're Harry Potter fans, would want to use it for good, to have fun, to look after their friends and family. But a small number would think, 'What's in it for me?' And that's the dark side of human nature, which remains the same whether you have a wand or not. We'd have exactly the same problems. Cruelty. Bigotry. Oppression. That's what Harry's fighting against. Not magic."

Everyone is Special...

2007-12-18T04:17:00.000+05:30

So, I was trying to give this guy some gyan on how to write essays for his B-School applications and I said something rather profound.

I said, stop getting so caught up in making yourself seem special to the person reading your essay that you forget what you're trying to say...

That was all right. But what I said that I'm really proud of was... Everyone is special. But no one really is... So tell them who you are and let them decide whether or not you're good enough for their school.

Sure, there are the exceptionally gifted few. Academically brilliant, can talk the hind leg off a donkey, dance with grace, good on the sports field, play a variety of musical instruments with obscure sounding names and sensitive too. But just how many of them are there? Few enough to allow the word 'exceptional' have a real meaning is my guess.

The majority of us are what I call normal. We all have a few talents, a few priorities, do well at some things, not too well at others and all that sort of thing. Academically brilliant but introverted. Extroverted but foot-in-the-mouth. Talented but not determined or dedicated enough. And so on.

What is important is to realize that there is still something that you and you alone are good at. And nothing can take that away from you.

At the end of it all, when I look at all this SOP writing, higher education and all that jazz, I realize that it's important that you stay true to who you are. It's important to realize that you might not be exceptional, but are probably gifted. And, realize that it's as important that the school fits you as you fit it.

Heard Somewhere...

2007-12-18T02:33:00.000+05:30

Future generations will remember that we were the people who communicated mainly through bullets

Memories of 2007 - I

2007-12-17T21:31:00.000+05:30

Some of my best memories of 2007 are moments spent with a most wonderful friend. It might make sense to some of you looking at it. Or, it might not. Either way, there are some very nice pictures that you might want to see... :-)

memories.pps

The Chocolate Goddess

2007-12-14T20:59:00.000+05:30

Couldn't have said it better myself ;-)

Committed with a K

2007-12-13T05:01:00.000+05:30

So, I'm sitting in an auto near the Khairatabad Junction this afternoon. With me are two (male) colleagues. A beggar woman comes to us and starts her usual rant about money and blessings and suddenly says "God will keep your pair happy".

Instead of sounding funny as it usually have, it sounded mildly offensive! I've never been the kind to get overly upset when there is no real reason to. And it was quite shocking that I reacted so violently (I snapped at her saying there's no jodi here for God to keep salamat). Perhaps I was just irritated by her constant begging (very likely) or maybe (shudder) I'm now committed with a K.

What do I mean by committed with a K? I mean committed in the Ekta Kapoor style. Perhaps the next time you see me I shall be wearing a foot long mangalsutra, a maang full of sindoor and my hair in a bun... :P

I'm being excessively dramatic, of course. But "Committed with a K" can feature on the same list as PVC. Quite an insult if you know what it means... ;-)

Academic Overachievers

2007-12-12T10:49:00.000+05:30

So... I come from a family where everyone has multiple academic qualifications. Dad has three, my brother has three, bhabhi has two and doesn't seem to want to stop there and Mom is the one I'm proudest of. Amma went back to study and got a BEd after almost 20 years of being a 'housewife' and went on to teach after that. And now, I'm marrying into a family of doctors. And The Fiancé will be one too. Though not the medical kind.

And me? Much to the annoyance of many of those listed above, I'm happier working than pursuing academics. I'm happier dabbling in a lot of things than pursuing that "One Passion". And much happier reading, writing, giving gyan and just generally enjoying vast and varied interests.

I just don't have the kind of focus it takes to excel in academics. (I can see a lot of black clouds looming in the horizon now). I hasten to add to that. I am not trying to say I have no focus. Because I do. It's not that I'm satisfied with the mediocre. Because I'm not. But I think I'm just trying to say that I should have understood what I wanted out of life the day I took a music book to IIT coaching class instead of vice-versa.

I get to hear a lot of words thrown at me all the time. Scattered, confused, no direction, no focus, lazy, no sense of priority, no passion and all that sort of thing.

But of late, I have been forced to acknowledge what I am just not sure what I want to do with my life. Every time someone asks me the question, "What do you want to do?" I have given a different answer. Sometimes I say I want to do a PhD (just to see how they'll react), sometimes I say an MBA, sometimes I say I want to become a consultant, sometimes a trainer, sometimes (only half jokingly) a housewife and most of the time, I give the answer that can be most easily laughed away. I say I want to be rich.

But the real answer is, "I Don't Know"

The Shy Bride

2007-12-12T00:58:00.000+05:30

The Fiance was full of giggles today, watched as he had the video of the 'engagement' a month after the real thing. Why? Because I spent about ten minutes of the entire ceremony looking at something other than the floor, my bangles and my feet. You Tube worthy he called it.

What are the forces that turn confident, intelligent and smart women into Simpering Savtri's? I list some here...

1. Hoardes of people you don't know staring at you
2. Multiple cameras right in your face
3. A 'costume' you don't recognize yourself in
4. Approving looks from the grown up's
5. Weight of the flowers in your hair
6. Self consciousness at being the centre of attention

And most of all, the finality that this is for real and it's FOREVER.

Living With Psoriasis

2007-12-10T23:55:00.000+05:30

It's winter. I'm stressed out. And it's time for the annual skin shedding ritual. I mean skin shedding literally because I live with a disease (fortunately very mild) known as Psoriasis.There are all kinds of gory tales that can be told about it. Most of which can be found here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psoriasis
http://www.psoriaticdiseases.com/psoriaticdiseases http://www.drbatras.com/html/skin4.asp#psoriasis

Living with a chronic condition is never easy, as many will testify. To know that you're not completely normal or worse still, not completely healthy... It's not easy.

There's an uncertainity to it. You don't know when it will flare and why. You can't be sure whether you'll wake up in the morning and see a new lesion somewhere. If you'll run your hands through your hair you might just find that you're losing hair because the condition has worsened. If you run your nails on your scalp, you might just draw blood.

There's a lot of embarressment attached to Psoriasis. You might go to get a haircut only to hear the beautician suggest her new anti-dandruff treatment. You then have to patiently explain that it's a skin condition but it's not contagious. You might wake up one morning to see the entire pillow covered with flakes. You would probably drape your jacket on your black chair at work because people would otherwise identify your chair as the one with all the white flakes on it.

There are a lot of restrictions. You don't eat things with too much protein, you try to not get stressed, you take medication everyday, you put up with smelly coal tar preparations, you have a propensity to get a lot of other skin infections because immunity is low, you don't wear dark coloured clothes on days when you have a flare because it would look terrible...

It's not easy to admit that you have psoriasis. That's the trouble with most skin ailments, I suppose. We're a society that judges on beauty and but also says that it's shallow to worry about looks all the time which is what a person with Psoriasis technically does all the time. That's probably the worst of all (especially) for a woman.

A person with Psoriasis is usually constantly accused of making too much fuss over nothing (especially if it's mild). People think a skin disease is not the worst thing that could possibly happen, and they're right. What people don't undertsand, however, is that it makes it a lot more difficult for somoene to come out and share what they're feeling on a bad day. It's hard to come out and say to even a close friend that here is something that makes me feel hideous, that is unpredictable and uncomfortable and difficult to live with.

The discomfort is real. The stress is real. The insecurity is real. And the fact that the person needs a little reassurance now and then is real too.

Living with Psoriasis teaches you one thing. It teaches you to empathize with someone elses troubles even if they seem trivial, self inflicted or imaginary to you.

How To Please The Goddess

2007-12-10T08:19:00.000+05:30

Pappaji Ka Dhaba

2007-12-08T02:40:00.000+05:30

It's been a long time since I went to Abids. Almost three months, I guess, considering it's only WW and I who think a trip to Abids is fun :-)

So three friends from work and I, we went out to lunch and walked almost two kilometres in the afternoon sun to eat some good food. We went to Pappaji Ka Dhaba in Abids. A place where you can see the tandoor churning out rotis before you reach the "family section".

It was a nice afternoon. Good food, friends, conversation, me in a completely giggly mood, pathetic jokes and mind blowing lassi... It was one of those afternoons that you'll carry with you for a long, long time without being able to do justice to it in words...

Friends at work and lazy afternoons are back at last. And better still, I've finally gone back to being eccentric at work and I'm feel like myself at last :-)

ps: ww... you're irreplaceable

What I Really Really Need... well, want not need...

2007-12-06T09:52:00.000+05:30

Here's a wishlist. I want...

Stuff that cannot be sponsored:

Admits from a couple of universities

A long and endless conversation with The Fiance

A smoother work life

To not have to wear bangles

Stuff that can be sponsored (evil grin followed by flirty look):

Good dark chocolate

A Good Coffee with fun conversation :-)

New look

New wardrobe of work clothes that are not as behenji as the salwars I wear everyday

New shade of lip gloss

A dozen pink carnations (sorry, they were sponsored less than a month ago)

A pair of really cool shades (prescription lenses)

A backpack that doesn't look like one new mothers carry

A shopping spree in Abu Dhabi

My phone bills...

Stuff that comes for free but I still can't seem to get:

The contact details of a good tailor

Time to read a good book

What is all this in aid of? Well, it just might make me forget the pre-wedding jitters that seem to have hit a few months too early...

Lucky Draw

2007-12-04T04:23:00.000+05:30

World AIDS Day was on a weekend this time, but it's still AIDS week, so we had a short speech and a pledge with candles today. All very solemn.

And in the middle of this, there was a stall by ICICI Bank where they had a "World AIDS Day Lucky Draw"...

I could probably draw all sorts of atrocious puns out of that. But I was just too depressed. Lucky Draw? Is that what we've reduced HIV/AIDS to now? Perhaps it's a little stupid to expect sensitivity from a Bank of all things. But I'm rather agitated... Some things should just not be commercialized.

Kids

2007-12-04T00:50:00.000+05:30

I guess it's kinda old news. But it's something that never ceases to make me indignant. It's kids! How can you make toys toxic?

Only One Sister

2007-12-01T04:07:00.001+05:30

That's what they all say to discourage my brother and me from constantly bickering.

Brings me to the very important question, if he had two sisters or I had two brothers, would it be all right to argue then? :P

Only One Sister

2007-12-01T04:07:00.000+05:30

That's what they all say to discourage my brother and me from constantly bickering.

Brings me to the very important question, if he had two sisters or I had two brothers, would it be all right to argue then? :P

Three and a Half Months

2007-11-30T02:10:00.000+05:30

Three and a half months and I will be a married woman. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about how we put off decisions based on timelines.

Over the past few weeks, I've been putting off making a lot of decisions because I feel It's simply not worth the effort because I have to change again in three months. Should I take guitar lessons? Should I join a good gym? Should I start a new skin care routine? Should I make more friends at work? Should I go on a vacation? Should I expend the energy it takes to make my boss happy? Should I really work at work? Should I start doing something new? Quite strange. By themselves, everything seems trivial. But the ramifications are sort of huge...

And one of the most important things that has been bothering me... should I move from Blogger to Wordpress just because Blogger is blocked at office? I know it doesn't seem too huge on the surface. Seems a rather trivial decision. But it's not. If I move, I've really moved. And the biggest move is the comments. One of the things I've really been missing is replying to comments. By the time I go home and login, I've forgotten what I wanted to say and end up just approving the comments and leaving things at that...

The blogspot url has been a part of my identity for two years now. And that makes the decision even harder to make. But I think three months is a long enough time to lose readers and lose interest in blogging. Move I shall. People, welcome to Wordpress... :-)

Shifting House

2007-11-29T22:31:00.000+05:30

This blog has been moved to Wordpress

Please update your RSS feeds (if any) :-)

I'll be able to reply to comments better from there.

2007-11-27T22:49:00.000+05:30

Why VikJ and I don't share the same cubicle anymore...

Xai: You're always looking at your computer. You don't even hear me the first time when I call you!

VikJ: (spaced out): Well, that's because I'm usually working on something important.

Xai: (injured voice): And you think what I have to say is not important?

VikJ: (too spaced out to realize what's coming): What could be so important? You're just usually offering me chocolate or something.

Xai: (injured, wronged and accusatory): I'm sharing my chocolate with you Vik. But I guess it's too much to expect you to understand.

VikJ: (wanting to get it over with): Look, lets talk about something else. Did I tell you the boss offered to take me to Deccan Pen store? He said he picked up a few brilliant vintage pieces from there.

Xai: (hurt and incredulous): I thought you don't like old stuff.

VikJ: (just plain incredulous): When did I say that?

Xai: You didn't come to see the Charminar with me when I asked you to come...

VikJ: (exasperated): That is completely irrelevant to the discussion we're having.

Xai: (gushing emotion): And what is the discussion Vik? Why don't you just say it straight. You don't like me anymore, do you? You make fun of the chocolate I share with you. You don't have time to go see the Charminar with me... You don't hear me when I call you... I should have read the signs... If you really liked me you would have bought me chocolate...

VikJ: (clueless): Look, it's not how you make it out to be.

Xai: (emotional): Then how is it Vik? How is it?

VikJ: (wants to get on with work): I don't know! You seem to have all the answers. You figure it out yourself!

Xai: (made up her mind): All right. I will. I'll just go find a new workstation.

VikJ: (pondering software architecture): Whatever...

Xai: I will. (leaves)

VikJ: (a few hours later): I need some chocolate... Where did that girl disappear?

Well, that's not really the reason... But I wish it was... It seems so much fun!

Emoticon

2007-11-22T22:01:00.000+05:30

Your Emoticon is Grumpy

Maybe you're having a bad day... or maybe something just upset you. Either way, you're definitely seeing red!

WhatEmoticon Best Represents You Right Now?

What Friends Are For?

2007-11-22T21:56:00.000+05:30

Friends are for cheering you up when you're low.

For making you laugh when you're too serious.

For making you realize life and troubles are the same for everyone.

For making sure you look good before a party.

For giving you a perspective on pimples.

For giving you a whack on the head when you're acting strange.

For eating popsicles with.

For sitting on the beach and talking with and losing track of time (and mirchi bajjis consumed).

For making them buy you flowers and watching them smile when you give them away to little kids on the bus.

For helping you fight battles you should be fighting.

For keeping your dreams safe when you stop believing for a while.

For asking things you want to know about but didn't know who to ask.

For listening to.

For making you feel good knowing that you brighten someones life.

For being there for.

For remembering forever even if you don't really know where they are or can't recognize them anymore

With whom you learn share, learn to accept and learn to love...

For the one who asked me how you define friends when you grow up...

Also for all my friends :-)

Relationship Maintenance

2007-11-22T11:56:00.000+05:30

Try googling for "high maintenance girlfriend". Then try googling for "high maintenance boyfriend".It's astounding. There's an msn quiz right up front that professes to tell you whether or not your girlfriend is "high maintenance" but there's nothing to find out if your boyfriend is!
It doesn't stop there. There's more. If you google for high maintenance and boyfriend together, you're more likely to find a girl wondering why her boyfriend says she's high maintenance than anything else.

I wonder, what is it about society in general that makes women wonder a zillion times whether they're high maintenance or whether they expect too much from their partners while there's no such standard for men?

I refuse to believe that women tend to demand more from relationships than men. (Or vice versa. I'm not a male bashing kind of feminist). But maybe they're just a little more likely to change a lot of things without noticing it.

Maybe, just maybe, as women, we are highly conditioned to give without measuring but equally conditioned to measure how much we take.

Thoughts?

Another Happy Birthday

2007-11-19T23:04:00.000+05:30

The blog turns 2 on Nov 26th. Isn't that wonderful?

Two years, 292 posts, 589 comments. That's quite an achievement, at least by my standards. :-)

I have been thinking about all the nice words I've heard about this space. People who read my blog who may or may not comment. People who call me if something sounds 'off' on the blog. People who I don't know, who leave comments. Strangers who read this blog with more regularity than friends who need to be threatened. And a host of other people. I wish I could put a name on some of the dots I see in my stat counter map. I really do.

Who are you in Bombay? In Delhi? In Purdue! Microsoft, UAE, a dot that once appeared with regularity right on the equator... I wish I knew who you all are.

As I move from single to committed to married, I think of the many different ways my blog has helped me transition, not the least by helping people understand who I really am.

Even at the risk of sounding pompous or weird, I want to say a huge Thank You everyone who reads this blog.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for being there. Even as little red dots on the map. There were many times when I wanted to quit writing and close this blog. But I promised myself that as long as this page gets even one 'unforced' hit a day, I shall keep on writing. And I did. :-)

I hope this blog celebrates a lot more Happy Birthday's!

On a lighter note, what changes would you like to see here?

It is Not a Mess

2007-11-09T22:20:00.000+05:30

It is a Rangoli!

Happy Diwali!

Remember the ad? :-)

Comments Please

2007-11-07T20:48:00.000+05:30

What's the fun of writing a blog if there are no comments? :-(

The Little Girl

2007-11-03T00:20:00.000+05:30

A little girl aged about seven and a half came skipping into the room as her mother sat at the table having lunch. The visitor at the table went unnoticed as the little princess clutched her nose, gave an impish smile and said, "Pooh! Stop that smell!" The smell being that of papads being fried a little too well in the kitchen. And then, before the grown-ups could react, she leaned closer and whispered to her mother, "I'll tell you something that will make you stop eating at once. There's a smelly dead rat in the garage!" And she ran away giggling.

The visitor absorbed this whirlwind in her little green uniform, her tunic just about reaching mid-thigh, her ponytails from the morning undone, her still baby-soft hair falling down her shoulders, the fringe falling in her eyes and glint in her smile that said, "I'm up to something, but I won't tell you what!" as she bounded over to the balcony watching something no grown-up would ever be able to see or appreciate. And ran all around the house and then came and sat down at the table for lunch. The visitor still went unnoticed. She giggled through the meal, threatened mischief in every gesture and unable to bear it anymore, the visitor blurted, "You know, I really like you!". And for the first time the little girl didn't know what to say.

She shared her chocolates with the adult who liked her (not just the ones she didn't like but also ones that she did like) and gave her best smile.

She clung to her mom all the way down the stairs once lunch was done. And when her mother said to her, "Take off your socks, they'll get dirty" she replied, "If I take them off, my feet will get dirty."

It was quite some time since the visitor met a little girl who seemed like a little girl and not a miniature grown up. It was quite some time since I went back to being seven and half again. With all the freshness and giggles that come with being young. I take pride in myself for not abandoning the child in me. But this little girl... This little mischievous imp... What can I really say about her that would not kill the spirit of being seven and a half?

Waste of Time

2007-11-03T00:05:00.000+05:30

It's an hour’s drive each way to work for me. I have never been used to long commutes (An hour is long enough for me) and this ride would unsettle me in the beginning.

I tried doing a lot of things while riding in the train or sitting in the back seat of the car... Reading, writing, listening to music, planning for the day or analysing it, discussing ideas with my father, sometimes going as far as completing my daily face cleansing routine on the way back. But it just didn't seem right.

Anyhow, after several attempts at ‘accomplishing’ something while in the car, I asked myself... Can you not spend two hours a day with yourself and your own thoughts for company? And it's rather surprising. Because we spend several hours in the company of people we like and don't like at home and office and we have, of late started to call the whole thing "Quality Time". But when it comes to spending time with ourselves, giving ourselves our own undivided attention, we seem to falter... Why?

The two hours I spend with myself everyday seems to me to be the best gift that I give myself. Better than my "I Love Me" diamond ring, better than the Namaste London music I allowed myself to actually buy because a song was stuck in my head and waay better than other assorted indulgences. In these two hours, I find myself thinking a lot. And clearing a lot of thoughts that crop up in my mind. I find myself catching up on a little sleep, a little dreaming, a little brainstorming of the non-work kind, thinking a little about the things that I want to do (like maybe a little embroidery. I suddenly find myself wanting to weild the needle) and all sorts of things. And when I step into office in the morning, I find myself completely alert and productive. And I'm not as cranky and irritable when I go home in the evening either.

Sometimes, I guess, the best thing to do is to just be. Everything falls into place with that...

Believable lies

2007-11-01T23:15:00.001+05:30

The beauty of the internet lies in the fact that no one trusts it to work completely; thereby making the statement "I did not get your mail" an entirely believable lie...

The beauty of being a call center executive lies in the fact that no one can see the Voodoo doll on your desk; thereby making the statement "I was glad to assist you Sir, have a nice day" an entirely believable lie...

The beauty of being a gyan giver by profession lies in the fact that no one knows for sure what they're asking; thereby making the statement "I need some time to do some research and analyse the data" an entirely believable lie...

The beauty of marriage lies in the fact that your partner would invariably expect either too little or too much; thereby making the statement I don't know what I need to do to make you happy" an entirely believable lie...

The beauty of being a classical singer lies in the fact that there's more pressure on the listener to appreciate than the singer to sing; thereby making the statement "This is an extremely ancient raaga not known by many" an entirely believable lie...

Acid Attack!

2007-10-26T19:51:00.000+05:30

So, I've been reading Google News in office on a regular (read through the day) basis while thinking about work. The most entertaining of the lot is the CNN-IBN feed. The journalism is so outrageous that you forget to get emotional about the news...

There were two things in the news today that made me sit up. The first was this:
A man was sent to prison for life because hethrew acid on the face of the woman who spurned his advances and in the process blinded her and reduced her to a mass of flesh and bones for life.

Sometimes, I wonder, do Bollywood movies encourage deranged men to actually go ahead and act deranged? After all, Bollywood does glorify the pursue-till-she-falls for you attitude... I have always wondered if they really think women are so stupid as to fall for a guy they find repulsive just because he persistantly keeps at it. But the movies say that it works and I am willing to bet that a lot of desperate men are willing to try anything.

Anyhow, this is the second bit of news...
"Smoking in public lands SRK in trouble"

"...Images of Shah Rukh Khan inhaling smoke were shown on Doordarshan during its telecast of the Twenty20 cricket match in Mumbai on October 20. The national television channel's telecast of such outrageous images is another act worth condemnation," NOTE general secretary Dr Shekhar Salkar said. ...

True, he's a much adored star and all that sort of thing. And I personally belive that smoking in public should be made a non-bailable offence. Found smoking in a public place? Put them in prison for a month or two. No questions, no defence, nothing.

But the bit that shocks me is the moral policing that they attach to this smoking business... outrageous images? That's taking things a little far. I mean, we've come to a point where ad's for deoderants feature hoards of frustrated, bikini clad, seemingly sex deprived women running towards the source of a supposedly "erotic" fragrance. I think smoking just pales in comparison.

So that's my bit for the day. Nuclear deals, fires, war, mass murders and corrupt politicians slandering each other are all so passe. Things like that are too big to get outraged about. Bring on the local news, I say!

He Said...

2007-10-25T00:08:00.001+05:30

When we cannot enjoy cartoons, we are almost dead.

And that, is one of the many reasons I'm marrying him.

Expectation Management

2007-10-14T21:41:00.000+05:30

One must remember to separate dreams from expectations.

To not chase unrealistic dreams is not to make a compromise. Compromises are made on expectations, not dreams.

A Lil Advertising

2007-10-14T16:59:00.000+05:30

Marriage Market is alive and well again with a new author. Please do visit...

Random Thought

2007-10-13T22:02:00.000+05:30

Here's a random thought that's been playing in my head for a couple of days now.

Can The Ideal, through its ignorance of imperfection give an indication of the actual the same way The Actual allows a glimpse of The Ideal through the very evident flaws that define it?

Sharing

2007-10-06T20:02:00.000+05:30

I've always thought that some things are too intimate to be shared. Dreams, secrets and marriage market and simbly bored are the most important of those.

In the span of a few weeks, I've shared them all, well all those but simbly bored. And I find myself feeling good too! Maybe it's sharing things that are close to the heart that make us happy. Or maybe feeling happy makes us share...

Airiness and Gyan Giving

2007-10-03T20:25:00.000+05:30

Someone said to me on the last day of my first job, "There's more R than D in R&D these days. But we must strive to make it profitable". And with those words ringing in my head, I moved out of development and into R&D.

Three weeks into my R&D assignment, I realize the depth of the guys words. As intellectuals (both, genuine and pseudo), sometimes, we feel that our job is only to throw up ideas and let someone else catch them. Yet the beauty of an idea lies not in its intrinsic marvel but rather in it's feasibility. How an idea grows from "great idea" to something that changes things in however minute a way is what makes it so exciting!

We are all guilty of letting brilliant ideas be wasted through sheer laziness, I suppose. But it's now that I realize what my brother meant when he always shouted in his bossy big brotherly fashion, "Talking is not enough, sister, results! Results are what matter!" Why do they have to be older and wiser I ask you! :P

Do you Know?

2007-10-02T22:40:00.000+05:30

Do you know the feeling that you get when you know that you want to do something and you think that you're doing the right thing, but at the same time you know that someone is going to be hurt by what you're doing but you also know that one needs to make a trade off... And you know that by making a tradeoff you might feel some remorse later but you feel that now is not the time to think about what you might feel later or you might just feel bad enough to not do what you feel you should be doing...

So... Do you know that feeling?

If you do, you're probably female. But if you skipped reading after the first two lines, you're probably male. :P

Dedicated to the kid who's just about discovering women.

Fortified with Vitamins...

2007-09-28T20:24:00.000+05:30

Ramzan is here. And I couldn't have picked a better time to shift to an office in Nampally :-)

And I can see the Haleem boards all over. Here are some of my favourites:

100% non-veg haleem (very, very clear)

Chicken Haleem (with fluorescent chicken on the advertising banner)

Pure veg haleem (umm, isn't that a contradiction of sorts?)

Panch Ratan Haleem (who was that talking about communal harmony?)

And, my favourite... Pure Dry Fruit Haleem - With Vitamins!

The Planet Called Bombay

2007-09-15T16:18:00.000+05:30

Why is the place filled with people who're always running? Why is the place so dirty? Why are there plants growing out of every wall there is? Why is the place overflowing with people? Why are there such few chai shops? At least, I didn't see as many as the eye is accustomed to...

People walk instead of taking shared autos (this whole business of confining autos to the suburbs, not nice) People really, actually walk! Why would you want to walk when you can get there faster and easier by sharing an auto or a taxi? A concept beyond the average Hyderabadi, perhaps. Everyone looks alike. All buildings look alike, there is a grim sense of determination and purpose in everything. What is it they're up to?

The answers are deep and mysterious. For someone used to doing everything in Nawabi style, I guess it's rather unsettling to see that the other extreme of the spectrum is just as real as yours... Imagine taking public transport everywhere you go. (shudder!) Imagine no chai every hour from a kettle perpetually on boil... Imagine, just imagine (don't if you can help it) keeping traffic rules in mind when you drive! Just terrible. What is the world coming to?

For the average Hyderabadi, it's like being the only kid in a party full of grown-ups :D

That's what Bombay is. It's about being grown up. It's about being serious about life. It's about knowing where you're going. Life is serious business. "Light le?" Did I hear you right? Pata bhi hai? Bulb lagane ke kitne paise lagte hain?

annotation @dkd903
I spent less than a day in Bombay... Hardly qualifies me to comment on the city, chronicled here is my first impression of the planet.

every city in my opinion, has a soul. Bombay has one too, and tangible spirit as well!

My intention is not to hurt the feelings of any mumbaikar. Just wanted to bring out the contrast between the lifestyles of the two cities. Who's to judge which is better? Not me, for sure... :-)

Ha! At Last!

2007-09-15T12:21:00.000+05:30

I think I'm done scaring people :-) I rather scared myself in the process...

So, I'm back from a long holiday. And in full work mode. Lots of ideas will follow. :-) Will move on from mushspace.blogspot.com :P

But it was brilliant while it lasted :D

Half a Couple

2007-09-10T18:09:00.000+05:30

It's been a long time since I used the phrase, but it was the first that came to mind as I was chatting with a friend this morning.

I was thinking about the last two years that are well chronicled in this blog. And I was thinking about the years that are to come. And it was quite an interesting chat.

Her: i almost told my parents yesterday dat i've had enough start hunting but again stopped myself somehow being led by a guy makes me feel defeated i feel is this what i am worth?

Me: it's a universal thing. but i realize that it's not about being led by a guy.
somewhere, by being born into a conservative brahmin family, we are bound by a lot of rules
we can break the rules, no issues. but then, we can't, or at least i couldn't cross a certain line
i just cant do something my parents are not happy with

Her: yeah,we cannot do that
i very well remember u telling me in canteen one day... that no matter how progressive we become at the end of the day we'll have a hum aapke hain kaun wedding and not a sakhi (saathiya) wedding

me: lol wow! i really said that?
im proud of myself

Her: :)

me: so it's like that. i feel that maybe i struggled too much to assert myself
i kept waiting for "jaa simran jaa jee le apni zindagi".
but that happens only in the movies

I guess it's the most honest I've been in the last two years. Time after time I see the same question crop up. What does it mean to give up what you want to do to make your parents smile? And is the smile worth it if you feel that you made a sacrifice for their sake?

Half a couple is what people view you as at a certain point of time in life. Someone to be matched with the other half in order to live a fulfilled life. But that's not all there is to a girl's identity!

At the same time, I now realize that given that we exist in a certain kind of setup and the limits of the setup, it would be wisest to choose an alternative that allows you to do what you want within the framework than fight the system. Fighting the system is fine, but only if you're prepared for the price it comes at. And it's obvious that for the last two years, I was not.

Is it such a defeat allow marriage to be your escape from a constraining environment? For a long time I thought it was. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I wasted two years fighting a battle of principle that I couldn't really win. And fought a battle that existed solely inside my head.

I realize that it is not such a failure to let a guy help you accomplish what you've always wanted to. The confusion that you're in, the time that's spent brooding, the stress that you feel, the frustration of not being able to do something more useful, the feeling of watching the world pass you by... They're worse than what you would feel in knowing that there is someone without whose support you could never have made it. And the right guy is the one who lets you accomplish it all knowing that you couldn't have done things without him but not for the reason the conservatives believe...

No. Marriage before establishing a solid career is not as terrible as it looks to be...

Whoo Hooo!

2007-09-10T11:52:00.000+05:30

You Are 66% Sexy

Your Sex Appeal Is: Extremely High

You're very sexy. You just have that certain something that takes over a room.
You know how to attract, entice, and keep whoever you want. You are truly appealing.

How Much Sex Appeal Do You Have?

When

2007-09-10T11:27:00.000+05:30

When you login to your mail with a confidence that there will be at least one mail

When you begin to think that you got a higher paying job only to pay your phone bills.

When you suddenly realize that you're capable of blushing.

When you try to write a blog post but can only think about the last conversation the two of you had...

When your IQ seems to have dropped a few points

When you realize that the life of a phone battery is finite after all

When other people seem to fade away and become more important all at the same time

When you go to a place and wonder what it would be like to be there with the other person

When mush doesn't seem offensive

When day-dreaming seems to be the norm

When friends say "payback time"

When the future becomes more important than the past

When there seems to be endless time and possibilities

You know...

For the one who inspired this post.

Upside-Down and Smiley

2007-09-02T22:34:00.000+05:30

When I changed the display picture, it was with hope. That I would move out of the muted pastels of the older picture and into the upside down craziness of the new one.

I think it worked. :-)

I feel like a little kid again. Full of excitement at what is to come and full of lots of hopes and turning my upside down, and enjoying it...

I Quit

2007-08-28T23:40:00.000+05:30

I quit my job and am temporarily unemployed until I take up my next job. I feel old in some ways. Second job. Wow!

There are a lot of hopes and dreams attached to this new one. Very unlike the first where I entered with no hopes at all... Strange? I know. It is strange. But that's just like me, isn't it?

I find it strange that I feel more relief than nostalgia at leaving. I find it weird that I cannot really think about some people positively. I just feel brilliant that I left them behind... Can people really be this nasty and petty? So petty as to make me doubt myself? And the answer to that one is, yes. They can.

It's no good to spend all your life with others like you. Someday, you need to go out there, get bruised, see how things can be and then decide who you are. What you will do and what you won't. I'm really glad about my first job for teaching me all this. I learnt to be ambiguous, to talk differently to different people, send out the feelers required to understand equations, to use those to my advantage, to play martyr when required, to be bitchy where needed and not lose myself as I do this.

Is it the same everywhere I might work? Only time will tell. Meanwhile though, I'm way wiser and smarter than I was 2 years ago...

Because I also learned to be proud of my work, to not code than cause a bug, accept mistakes with grace, share the blame, go home even if the project is on fire and tell a good manager from a bad one...

A Day of Laughter

2007-08-28T23:36:00.000+05:30

It's been a long time since I laughed as much as I did today... I didn't realize I missed it this much!

Good day. Bodes well for the future...

Space...

2007-08-24T23:38:00.000+05:30

To think

To absorb

To reflect

To fear

To wonder

To imagine

To just be...

Space is hard to find. The need for it is hard to explain. But I do know that I badly need some. It's been a stressful few weeks... Perhaps months. And I see yet more stress ahead. It's at times like this that I wish it was as easy for me to share as for many others. But it's not. The only way I know to deal with things that play havoc in my head is to think, obsess, imply and play the ostrich.

For the first time in my life, I find myself defending my judgement. And for the first time in my life, I feel a fear for the future...

Sadness

2007-08-24T22:39:00.000+05:30

So, another young life came to and end today. Literally. A young man, bright, cheerful and wonderful is no more. I barely know him. I might have seen him from a distance, nothing more. And my mother knew him a little better. But the news of the loss reduced her to tears. And I know what she was thinking. It was the same as the rest of us. Let no mother be so unfortunate as to witness the end of the life she has nurtured both within and without her.

Ephemeral. That is the word to describe us with respect to the universe. But that does little to console a grieving mothers heart.

There's a dialogue in Athadu. The old grandfather speaks of the son he lost in an accident,"They say I will forget with time. But he's not a memory to be forgotten. He was my life."

Where Do Ideas Come From?

2007-08-23T23:09:00.000+05:30

Where do you get the ideas for a blog? Someone asked. Well, here are some good places:

Take a different mode of transport. If you travel by car, catch a bus. If you travel by auto, catch the train. Or better still, walk! Perspective changes brilliantly. And that is usually enough.

Try reading something drastically different. The more you read, the more same things will seem. There usually tends to be a grain of an idea connecting whatever books we pick up. Read something drastically different. And well, you can be "inspired" by an idea. :P

Make a new friend. Another intellectual discussion/bitch fest, another idea!

Change your fragrance. Well, all right. That's just a good way of picking up a new friend :P

Take an exam every once in a while. The more creative excuses you make to not study, the more ideas you'll get...

Start a blog. Oops, that's what we want ideas for! Well, start by reading blogs. You're sure to think you either thought it up before or could write it better. Either way, ideas!

Think up imaginative curses. Someone cut you off badly at the signal? Imagine an unconventional bodypart you'd want to injure and why. Someone playing politics at work?Imagine how you'd want to take their happiness. Food bad at cafeteria? How do you want to trouble the chef? Idea!

And if all else fails, look at your blog stats. A dip in hits indicates it's time for a new idea :-)

The Wait for happiness

2007-08-20T14:59:00.000+05:30

"The Wait" That's what I would like to call it.

Why are we always waiting for something to happen to be happy? Ask anyone the question, "Are you happy?" and the answer comes back, "I have no reason to be happy." And I ask, do you have a reason to be sad, though?

It all comes down to that. Is happiness the absence of sadness or is sadness the absence of happiness?

It differs from person to person. Happiness, smiles, contentment, satisfaction... These are all very subjective. For most people though, life is neither happy nor sad. Almost as if all the positive and the negative neutralize exactly. In equilibrium. Yet not balanced. The ones who fall sick out of boredom more than anything else.

For me, it's always a matter of perspective. Things can always seem overwhelming. After all, who knows what the repercussions of my actions may be? But when I take a step back and look at it one little bit at a time, I find a sense of peace. And an awareness that such intricacies are the work of a higher power. It's times like this that I am drawn to the Three Questions of Tolstoy. So similar to the philosophy of the Gita. The only thing to do is what needs to be done. The rest? Well, that's governed by the laws of destiny and karma, isn't it?

Right now is always the right moment to smile. Like a friend said, "Smile... tomorrow will be worse!" Profound quote, that one... :-)

Indian Idol - III

2007-08-11T22:48:00.000+05:30

Deepali the sweet was kicked out today. And the judges were shocked. I was not.

Why is it so difficult to believe that the audience had no taste when they voted out the only one who did not sing on the theme given? Of the three who were named the worst, one sang completely off the theme, one sang mostly off the theme (Emon's song from Lakshya was inspirational, not patriotic) and the third acted waaay too smart (Ankita) for anyones taste.

There's always sense in votes. Or that's what a democracy believes. And that held true today too. One just needs to scratch a little below the surface and not dig too deep.

Why did India Shining not work? Because the villages were still dark. Why did Chandrababu get voted out? Because the monsoons failed. Why did Deepali say goodbye? Because she sang an irrelevant song.

It's the psephologists (is that the right spelling?) and the critics who end up shocked. Because they think too much!

Quote

2007-08-09T22:14:00.000+05:30

Whether the head is screwed on right or just plain screwed is often not the
easiest thing to determine...

4:15

2007-08-06T23:33:00.001+05:30

I cannot belive I woke up and was dressed by 5:00 today... Blogworthy this... :P

Old, Old Song...

2007-08-04T11:54:00.000+05:30

पंछी से छुडा कर घर अपना
तुम घर को अपने ले आये
बंधवाया प्यार का पिंजरा जब
हम भूल सारे गम मुस्काये

जब प्यार हुआ इस पिंजरे से
तुम कहते हो आज़ाद रहो
हम कैसे भुलाएँ प्यार तेरा
तुम अपनी जुबां से यह ना कहो

अब दूजा जहाँ में कोई नहीं है
हम तो तुम्हारे हो बैठे
तुम कहते हो कि ऐसे प्यार को भूल जाओ
भूल जाओ...

24 and Invincible

2007-07-22T22:57:00.000+05:30

Age, Failure and appreciation.

Death by a coconut falling on your head.

Shiny red cars whizzing by.

Tridev playing in Shalimar.

Everything turns out all right for Harry though George loses his ear and Molly Weasley kills.

Some things are just not meant to be understood.

Here's something from the first blog post of this year...

If I do a million things, some which are prompted by my judgement, others which are not; some that I want to, others that I don't; some that I believe in, and others that I scoff. They would all still be done the same way. If a few hundred of the million work, it's enough.
I'm not going to sit on an armchair speculating on which things to do. It's a waste of time. I'm not going to sit on the shore giving gyan. I'm not going to justify my fears with reason.

I have heard from a great many about "[at] This point in life..." and I have pondered a great deal more than I had to. And the way I see it, life doesn't really change. People do.

At 17, I wrote 6 entrance exams and cleared just 2. At 22, I got a job in the second place I applied to. At 24, I would probably get a job wherever I wanted to...

What changed? Am I suddenly more successful? Or just more careful? Or a little of both?

I learn from experience, and experience teaches me to not do certain things, but if I base every decision on experience, then what happens when my experience gets out-dated?

Life is simpler than it looks. It's easier than it seems.

Invincible we never are. Infalliable, thankfully not. Invulnerable... is impossible. Impervious to surroundings? Incapable of it.

It's all about thinking, moving and smiling.

- For Bhai

2007-07-17T14:23:00.001+05:30

what does it freakin' matter either way?

रहमान-गुलज़ार

2007-07-17T14:19:00.000+05:30

जागें हैं देर तक हमें कुछ देर सोने दो
थोड़ी सी रात और है सुबह तो होने दो

आधे अधूरे ख़्वाब जो पूरे ना हो सके
वो ख्वाब फिर से नींद में कुछ देर बोने दो

Of Boredom and Sexual Frustration

2007-07-17T11:47:00.000+05:30

This post has nothing to do with either. Just wanted to check the profanity filters on the proxy :P

Outstanding Comeback

2007-07-16T22:22:00.000+05:30

Yes. I was being a bit (possibly extrememly) juvenile. Proclaiming to the world at large that I have "issues" by closing all blogs.

But it was and still is a much needed break. The last few weeks have probably been the darkest of my life so far. Because I believed myself incapable of smiling let alone rejoicing at the joys of someone who I once deeply cared for and even loved. I found myself wondering when my turn would come. I found myself analyzing the lives of people around me; people I love who I believed were happier than me. And I found myself turning hostile towards the people I would do anything for in the blink of an eye. I found myself building the walls again and keeping everyone out. Even innocent bystanders who hope for some entertainment on a well written (hopefully) blog expecting no more and no less than a daily dose of timepass. And I found myself struggling to remember who I am and what I stand for.

And in these weeks, I have stood firm in wanting to be alone. Alone to figure out some things. And alone to bewilder over this side of me I discovered.

I wonder if I am making any sense.

I realized that I don't feel 24 anymore. Many times I feel older. And sometimes I feel younger. And that is what bothers me. Can you be old enough to understand more than someone way older than you can't? Or is it just plain stupid? And if you do think the same as them, does that mean you can't be 24 and invincible (credit to bhai for that phrase) anymore?

Somewhere deep within, I feel sad. Sadness is not the right word. Sadness is way to expressive and doesn't go deep enough. Sadness is an emotion. No, what I am in is a state of mind. Meloncholy. That's the word I am looking for. And it's driving me over the edge.

Do I feel lighter for having said it aloud? No. Not really. I just feel a tad pathetic.

And old.

I feel tired, old and burdened.

And I feel lost.

Why I'm Addicted to Ceasar IV

2007-07-16T22:20:00.001+05:30

Because I can build. And what I build seems to prosper.

Closed

2007-07-05T16:43:00.000+05:30

###Under
Maintenance###

The author.
Not the blog.

The Smell of The Rains

2007-06-27T10:17:00.000+05:30

The most beautiful thing about the rains is the smells they bring. The smell of the rain hitting the earth. The smell of fresh grass. The mild smell of damp, dry leaves. There's the smell of clean, fresh air. Of the pakoras and (mirchi bajji) frying everywhere. The smell of chai or good coffee as you sit by the window and watch the rain. The smell of bhutta being roasted on coal. The smell of the temple, just a little damp and musty making it seem more mysterious than ever. The smell of palm trees...

Step out of your home and take a sniff. The monsoons are here at last... :-)

Remote Control

2007-06-24T00:09:00.000+05:30

When God gave us one life to live, He also gave us the desire to live every other life but this one.

I see three reasons why we do.

The first one, is simple. You just think you cannot do what the other person is doing. This point being proved by the recently engaged cousin of mine who gushed, "I hope you do your MS. I might be getting married, but it would feel good to know that you're achieving something!" Whoa! Reality check! Babe, Marriage is one of the biggest achievements in life.

What amazed me, though, was that this girl meant every word she said!

The second is the living for someone else because you know they're wrong.

Think about the roads you drive on everyday. How many times have you cursed bad motorists? But in wanting every auto and indicab driver to drive the right way, you pretty much decide that you cannot survive in the framework created by them, so they need to change!

Think about the well meaning parent. The one who decides long after the "child" is an adult how much she should save, what she should buy, who she should hang out with, when she should get married, who she should marry, what toothpaste to use, when to sleep and so on. Well intentioned? No doubt. Well timed? Most likely not. Required, NO!! Not the kind of control most parents aim for, anyway.

No, the kid does not need to change. Not one bit. Either you survive in his world or quit. You might have the more sensible idea, but you should stick to living your own life.

The third reason is probably more common than we think it is. It's I will live your life for you because I own it.

Again, the classic example being the obsessive parent. You are my kid and I will tell you what to do and you will do it. It's not just parent. It could be partner, friend, boss, whoever. And most of the time, this kind of control is subtly veiled by emotional blackmail. "You're big enough refuse your mother now, huh?" kind of blackmail.

It's always simpler to live someone elses life. No matter which way you choose to do it. To start with, there's lesser risk. There's also the feeling of being "needed by" or being "happy for" someone else.

But at the end of it, it's a sad, sad thing to do. Why live someone elses life when you can live your own?

Why Do They Call It...

2007-06-16T17:49:00.000+05:30

March 2007

June 2007

Land Development?

Why Is Being Simple So Complicated?

2007-06-08T23:54:00.001+05:30

For instance, this blog post on complicating simplicity might itself run a few hundred words, I really do not know...

There are a lot of things that I need to do in life. Study, get a PhD, slap a few people, get married, see some places, learn languages, get some new skills, understand a lot of things, forgive a lot of people, forget a lot of hurts, relive some brilliant moments, raise kids, take my dad to watch the Wimbledon Final...

And simple as each of those seems, each is a project in itself. Something that takes vast amounts of time and energy. Something that will impact your whole life. Well, most anyway.

And I'm a thinker. I analyze things to bits. And most things I need to do are things no sane person would ever do if they thought too much. But when do you cross the line from cautious to control freak? From careful to paranoid? Xai to Hamlet?

Testing all Elements

2007-06-07T15:30:00.000+05:30

Normal text

Bold text

Italics

Link

Image

Quote

Unordered list:

three

four

Ordered list:

three

four

Expectations - II

2007-06-07T11:21:00.000+05:30

I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who believe that professional and personal are two completely different things. I disagree.

I spend about eighty percent of my waking time in office. And I spend this time so that the remaining twenty percent is spent in comfort. When I work, I do the best that I can possibly do. I put in time, energy, creativity and intelligence. And these are personal too. In short, my work is important to me as a person.

The place where I distinguish between the so called personal and professional, however, is when my work is put out for the world to see. That's where work is work and criticism of the work is not criticism of me, but rather of the way the work was done. Just like singing a song. Just because you slip a beat or a note while singing you do not become a bad singer. And if there are ten bugs and a million mistakes, by all means, they deserve to be listed out. But this does not mean that you're a bad worker. It means you did this piece of work badly.

This line of distinction is not clear to most, not even to the higher-ups and the star deliverers. As a person, as a manager, as a colleague and as a professional I am entitled to only judge the piece of work against the standards specified. The quality of work depends not only on the skill of the worker but also on the level of specification. What are the parameters you are judging by? What are the standards that you expect? What is it that you really expect of the piece of work? When a piece of work does not meet your level of expectation, the first thing you need to do is understand if you communicated it correctly. And if you did, by all means, criticise. But the only thing you're entitled to have expectations from is the level of work delivered; not the method of working; not the brilliance ot the worker.

We work within a framework. How a person performs within the framework is not an indication of how good or bad a worker s/he is and certainly not an indication of potential.

Like my dad says, of course there's dignity in labor, but there's only so much you can achieve with a broom. :-)

You Can't Talk Vedantam On an Empty Stomach

2007-06-06T22:33:00.000+05:30

The fun thing about relatives is watching those who don't get along. :-) My favourite sparring duo is my spiritual-reiki grandmaster uncle and leftish-very real cousin.

Reiki uncle is the kind who talks spirituality at the drop of a hat. I'm sure you've encountered the kind who just won't leave The Gods alone. By leave them alone I mean he can't go into a temple, just close his eyes and pray. He must talk about the "vibrations", the symbolism, the stories and all the paraphanelia (gibberish to me) that goes with it.

Cousinji is a very socialist, no nonsense, down to earth guy who believes in The Gods more because the belief is a part of his culture than anything else. You can be sure he's religious. But you will not catch him praying. Sorta like me.

The fireworks start when they both meet. Here's how it goes:

Uncle (U): I like the vibrations in your puja room, though I think it could have done with a different flooring - one that would not conduct energy so easily.

Cousin (C): What do you mean by vibrations? Do vibrations occur because you pray there or do you pray there because there are vibrations?

U: Depends, son. For example, all reiki channels believe that the cosmic energy exists for us to direct. But there are places where the energy is strong and one can feel it...

C: So, what you're essentially saying is that anyplace is a good place but some places are better?

U: Ah you young generation simplify everything. For instance... (launches into long anecdote ending with a grateful admirer crediting uncleji with improving the quality of his life) Spirituality must not be neglected in life. (If lucky, no story follows)

C: I agree. Spirituality must not be neglected. But at the same time, should material well being be ignored?

U: Look at (insert random wastrels name) he may not be prosperous. But he has a moksha sthanam in his jatakam (horoscope predicts moksha) Could we ever aspire for greater fortune?

C: Perhaps, but don't you think he should be fulfilling his responsibilities first?

U: Why? There are always materialistic people like you... and me (added as afterthought) to take care of the material comforts of life.

C: But what if everyone went his way? What happens to dharma?

U: It's not dharma that drives life. It is karma.

C: I really don't understand what you're saying. For if everyone neglected his duties in life and went running after a God each, civilization would come to a standstill.

U: It is greed that runs our civilization. There is nothing wrong with it stagnating. We must try and live a more meaningful life

C: Now I'm lost. But I wonder if you would be speaking this way if you didn't have a pension and sons in the US depositing dollars in the bank.

U: (splutters)

C: Let's face it uncle, one can't talk vedantam on an empty stomach. And those who can are not among us. I suppose thats the thing about life. You should be but you can't and you can't unless you do...

The Directory of Names

2007-05-31T13:41:00.000+05:30

I've been trying to curb a habit lately. That of dissecting the names that appear before me.

Over the last few years, I've become acutely aware of the demographics that are at play in a culture like ours. And it is ever so easy to take a name and trace it right to the roots.

Of course, one cannot but distinguish Ram from Rahim and Rose; but it's the subtler distinctions that I am talking about here. Should the Acharyas and Bhattacharyas be considered any different from the Choudhary's? Are the Rathore's different from the Noor's? Is a Sharma different from a Sethi?

The first divide that I encountered was that of North and South. On an average a North Indians have two names, while South Indians have three (or more). Or so the kids in school believed. For years I felt lost without a so called surname and joined the ranks of the dozen or so Khattas and Khattis around. When you introduce yourself to someone from the North of the Vindhyas, they would ask you, "What's your family name?" and someone from the other side of the mountains would ask, "What's your initial?"

As a South Indian growing up in the North, I would feel an inordinate and inordinately irrational sense of joy when I encountered the name Reddy. Here was living proof that South Indians, and specifically Andhrites (the tams seemed to get by with their fathers' names), could have a "proper" last name too...

But time passed and the demographics got more intricate. The Sharmas and Sastry's seemed different from the Reddy's and Choudhary's for no real reason. Surnames and diet preferences seem to segregate the thread wearing from the non thread wearing; (though as per the shastras the latter should be negligible in number). And now comes the "big question" what do you do after you make the distinction?

Yes, you can group the Sastrys and Shastris and Sharmas and Sharmas and Pandeys and Mishras and Dwivedis and Chaturvedis and Acharyas. But then what? Does that change anything? Not really. Would you stop being friends with one? My grandmother might, but I wouldn't. Would you not employ one? Of course you would, if you're right in the head. But the divide exists nonetheless. And that is what disturbs me. Ah, an

Acharya, what would he know of running a business, some say. But what makes you think that a Patel is any better?

Names are dangerous. They lead to sterotypes. You can't look at a person and tell what they are or are not good at. Why should we look at the name and decide? I've decided to consciously try and not separate the demographics from the name for a while. And I want to see if I'm any worse off for it.

Girlie Gyan

2007-05-19T16:12:00.000+05:30

I was clearing my favourite drawer today, the one that contains all the girlie stuff. And I did some listing out. (my favourite activity, appears productive without actually being so)

What does a girl really need in her wardrobe and her makeup/accessories drawer? A question that's baffled mankind for centuries... Here's my take:

Clothes:

Five saris (heavy, flowing, transperant, wildly printed and all extremely sexy)

Five kurtis (for lazy weeks. include a white chikan one that you can team with blue jeans)

Five salwars (for everyday wear when aunties/grannys are around)

Five captioned T-Shirts (for the prove a point types, like me)

Five normal, plain, slightly oversized T-Shirts that can graduate to the gym and then sleep (by which time they would have also acquired a degree of sentimental value), preferably one or two flicked from a guy :P (for feel fat days)

Five extremely girly tops

One pristine white, well cut, just the right curves, formal, button down shirt

Five pyjamas (for those who prefer do the laundry once a week)

Two pairs of shorts (to laze around in)

Two pairs of jeans (that last a month without washing)

One pair of formal trousers (just in case)

One pair of cargoes (for weekends)

One pair of capris (for weekends and to show off smooth as silk legs)

Absolutely NO Embroidered Jeans!

Shoes:

One pair of floaters/comfy shoes that go with all jeans

One pair of dressy heels

One pair of sandals that that go with most salwars

One pair of comfy sneakers :-)

This list of clothes and shoes doesn't, of course, count the dress up stuff. :P

Make Up:

Compact (the right shade, please. Grab another shade if you've tanned to avoid looking like ramseys B grade Bhoot)

One clear gloss

One pink gloss

One shiny glittery thing (for dress up evenings that can be worn over other colours too)

One red lipstick, preferably non transferable (coz it will be worn on occasions where you might carry an oh so tiny purse that will not hold the right touch up stuff)

Lip liners if you have the patience, the right shade and know how to use it. Most of us don't and look like disasters

One neutral brown lipstick, neither glossy nor matte (that can be worn to work)

One shade of glide on lipstick that does justice to your complexion

A six shade eye shadow compilation that will double as highlighter when worn with the right brush (that starts with a silvery white and ends with a dark brown) wear multiple shades only if you know how to blend. again, most of us don't have the required degree in fine arts :P

Eyeliner

Kajal (for casual summer evenings)

Mascara (for dress up occasions. there are better things to do in office than worry about mascara)

Foundation and concealers are for the babes who wouldn't be reading my blog :-)

Accessories:

Two pairs of studs

Two pairs of ethnic dangling earrings

Two pairs of funky dangling earrings

Whatever neckwear you prefer

One witch like ring

One normal ring

Bangles of all types (matti, glass, metal, yellow metal, bracelets)

Cute anklets

Two good belts

One pair of good shades that complement the face

Three bags (one fancy party type thing, one all encompassing backpack that holds gym clothes, emergency chocolate and more and one normal thingie)

Necessities:

Face wash

Face scrub

Light moisturizer

Sunscreen

Moisturizing Cream

Effective cleanser

Deoderant

Emergency Supplies (hope to never need them):

Anti pimple cream

Off the shelf face pack

Blackhead removing strips

If you've made it till here, please note that I've not talked about hair care in this post :P

A girl should own and definitely know how to use this stuff (especially the sari ;)) but whether she actually uses it... ummmmm... well...

The Stars

2007-05-16T09:52:00.000+05:30

Many a worried parent has made a trip to the family astrologer (yes, there exists such a concept) carrying a horoscope on yellowing paper (25 years is a long time) and a heavy heart.

And the astrologer has, true to the last rudraksha on his body talked about the evils of shani, rahu and ketu and insisted that things will be better two years hence.

The parents return, and it is now the turn of the family priest to play the role of saviour. Milk, oil (if its shani we are talking about) all sorts of grain, lamps, black, white, red or whatever-the-colour-he-demands cloth and of course the usual flowers, camphor and incense are procured and offered to the offending celestial body.

Suddenly, the fates smile. The visa (if its a son the parents are worried about) or the bridegroom (in case it's a daughter, plays same role as visa, though) appear and cause much celebration in the family. All is well and the holy men were right. We must do this the next time something goes wrong.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for astrology. Anything that helps you make an honest living (or in the case of our family astrologer, who sits on the mountaintop dispensing advice for welfare of society, fruit) is fine by me.

But what bothers me is the hullabaloo they make over the poor planet with rings. Seven years of hardship, they say. Fine. But do you think you could have a brilliant life without hardship? Has it ever occured to you morons that possibly, just possibly, it's the so called hardship that brings out the best in you? Humans are a species who celebrate pleasure. I'm no masochist myself, but somewhere, I believe that it takes all kinds to make a good life. A dash of shani, a whiff of rahu, some trouble with mangal (and a tree for a husband like Aishwarya Rai) Guru smiling beatifically from above... Everything. I'm sure when the Gods gift us our destiny they make sure that you get everything you could ever possibly want, but none of it for free.

Why all this fuss over a few bad days or years? You're alive, healthy and strong. That's what really matters. Right?

Yet Another Blog

2007-05-15T16:41:00.000+05:30

I read a lot. And everyone who knows me knows that. I carry a book with me wherever I go irrespective of whether there are realistic chances of being able to read it or not.

I have wanted to keep track of the books I read for a long time, more for myself than anyone else. I've given up writing on paper since I started blogging, so anytime I feel the need to record something, I blog it :-)

It's not too much of a comments blog, but readers who have the time, patience and energy to read another of my blogs are welcome to do so. Click Here to get there

Hmmm

2007-05-11T10:10:00.000+05:30

WHAT KIND OF AN IDEA ARE YOU? Are you the kind that compromises, does deals, accommodates itself to society, aims to find a niche, to survive; or are you the cussed, bloody-minded, ramrod-backed type of damnfool notion that would rather break than sway with the breeze? The kind that will almost certainly, ninety-nine times out of hundred, be smashed to bits; but, the 100th time, will change the world.

Complete post here

The Night Before

2007-05-10T21:17:00.000+05:30

Do you know the feeling you get the night before a huge if you fail you really fail exam? (If you don't, wow!)

Imagine the feeling you get the night before a major exam the classes for which you regularly bunked because you didnt like the prof. Then, at about 6pm, you find out that the syllabus covers three text books, not one... And, about thirty people who flunked last year are re-taking the exam.

As you think about that, it might explain to you why I'm here, in office still, awake and coherent at this hour.

Jaagte Raho? Is that the phrase I'm looking for? :P

The Patriarch

2007-05-09T14:27:00.000+05:30

I've always maintained that ours was an extremely good looking clan. This is how the 70 yr old head of the tribe looks. He must have been a hell of a heartbreaker in his youth...

Why Xai is an Engineer

2007-05-07T22:19:00.000+05:30

When I was four years old, I wanted to become a teacher
Then I actually encountered some :P

When I was 12, I wanted to become an architect
Then, I fought with my drawing teacher

When I was 14, I decided to be a singer
But my parents made me come back with them from Banares

When I was 15, I wanted to be a lawyer
My dad was a little vehement though

When I was 16, I found myself writing an IIT exam
It wasn't for me, but it made my parents smile

When I was 17, I wanted to run away from Vizag
But IIT refused to be considered an asylum for runaways

At 21, I was an unwilling engineer
But they saw no harm in inducting me into the software fold

At 24, I feel stifled
They say it's the pay that keeps you here, though I cannot really be sure

But I do know that I feel a sense of void somewhere within. Like I perhaps betrayed my true calling. Should I have got a degree instead of a diploma in music? Should I have rebelled and become an architect? A teacher? A lawyer?

Or would they all have made me feel the same way?

I know I would make a lousy doctor, accountant, receptionist or athlete... So I know it's not just the grass-is-greener syndrome...

What is it that I really want to do? I wonder. Earlier in the evening, I found myself wondering if it's too late...

I'm too old in the head, I realize. Perhaps not too mature, but just a sense of oldness that I feel.

I realize I need to find a passion. Something I would like to live for. Not achievement, power or money. Just something that makes me wake up every morning and smile. And think, what a wonderful day, so much to do...

Official Brilliant Day Post

2007-05-06T21:37:00.000+05:30

Smiles

Talks

People

Typical Andhra Meal

Hugs

Friends

Ice Cream

Drive

Charminar

No Worries

No Stalkers

Space

Myself

Peace

At Last...

From The Fighter in Me

2007-05-03T16:41:00.000+05:30

My Dear Little One,

You are a fighter. And you know you are. I know it's that oversized heart of yours that gets you into trouble sometimes; pushing you into things that your head doesn't think are right. Yet it is that big bruisable heart where all your strength lies. It's that heart that makes you want to give people a chance. That keeps you from being a cynic despite seeing all the mediocrity around you. You know and I know that it's having a heart that keeps you bonded to your family, to relatives who come in all shapes and sizes, that makes you want to help those who hurt you and generally be a better person than many others you know.

I know that it's your heart that hurts now. All through it's own fault, and knowing that makes it hurt more. For doing some things for family. For giving people chances that they do not deserve or earn. For holding people in higher esteem than they deserve, for baring your soul to strangers in shiny shoes, for listening when the other said nothing, for saying so the other might have something to hear, for hoping despite odds, for dreaming dreams for those who clearly did not deserve to feature in them. It's that heart that made you willing to re-think career plans. That made you re-think your way of life. That made you believe for a few misguided moments that you could live a lifetime with someone your family believed was right for you.

It's that heart that causes all that trouble. Can you live with that?

Somehow, the alternative seems frightening to me now. What would you become if you let go of the softness and the hope? Harsh, cynical, critical, bitter at the age of 24? When I see you today, what you have been for the last five weeks, I don't like it. I see the signs of you starting to lose that optimism that drives your heart and I feel terrible to see you that way. I would rather see you sad, heartbroken, taking more blame than you deserve and seeing more good in people than there actually is than this way... The girl quite a woman succumbing to blame games.

Yes, he treated you terribly. Yes, he doesn't deserve half the chances you got. Yes, leaving code that needs to be delivered and decking up for a cup of coffee with a stranger instead is a terrible waste of time. Yes, you deserve better than someone who notices the superfluous, who doesn't have the courtesy to call, who cares more for the image he projects to grown ups than how he treats the girl he's contemplating marrying. Yes, you saw more potential in him than he can ever imagine by himself. Yes he's not the man he could be. But what's more important is the man he is and the man he wants to be.

Tell your sad little heart that despite everything that was done to it, it was what it was called upoon to be. Know that in allowing yourself to be hurt, you have shown greater strength than you could have ever shown otherwise. It's this pain that makes you a better person. You know now that despite all that you see, all that you hear and all that you're subjected to, you can see the best that can be.

That my love, is strength.

I know you will smile once again. And I see that you are. You deserve someone who makes you smile, who makes you feel like a princess, who can make you laugh, who can make your eyes dance who can bring out the best you can be. Because nowhere will he find someone who already sees the best that he is.

I will not say it's his loss. But I will say that it is your gain that you escaped a permanently bruised heart.

Love
Me

ps: a bit of this post is for the perfectionist who helped me find the strength to blog again and not think about who's reading. thank you.

Tell Me

2007-04-21T21:20:00.000+05:30

Let's make this interactive for once (since comments have reached a new high)

Q: What does it take to run away and never be traced?
Ans: Passport, resume, a couple of lakhs and a map?

Q: What does it take to cheer yourself up?
Ans: Some space, no people, a chocolate fountain and a blog rant?

Q: What does it take to tell a guy that he's an absolute moron?
Ans: Some courage and a whammy of a mail (and some innovative suggestions on where to jump from)?

Q: What's the one question you want to scream to people around you?
Ans: What the f*** do you want from me?

Q: What's the one way to numb the meaninglessness?
Ans: Do blogthings :-)

Q:
Ans:

Akbar's Bridge

2007-04-19T09:57:00.000+05:30

Jelaludin Muhammed Akbar, Guardian of Mankind,
Moved his standards out of Delhi to Jaunpore of lower Hind,
Where a mosque was to be builded, and a lovelier ne'er was planned;
And Munim Khan, his Viceroy, slid the drawings 'neath his hand.

High as Hope upsheered her out-works to the promised Heavens above.
Deep as Faith and dark as Judgment her unplumbed foundations dove.
Wide as Mercy, white as moonlight, stretched her forecourts to the dawn;
And Akbar gave commandment, "Let it rise as it is drawn."

Then he wearied--the mood moving--of the men and things he ruled,
And he walked beside the Goomti while the flaming sunset cooled,
Simply, without mark or ensign--singly, without guard or guide,
Till he heard an angry woman screeching by the river-side.

'Twas the Widow of the Potter, a virago feared and known,
In haste to cross the ferry, but the ferry-man had gone.
So she cursed him and his office, and hearing Akbar's tread,(She was very old and darkling) turned her wrath upon his head.

But he answered--being Akbar--"Suffer me to scull you o'er."
Called her "Mother," stowed her bundles, worked the clumsy scow from shore,
Till they grounded on a sand-bank, and the Widow loosed her mind;
And the stars stole out and chuckled at the Guardian of Mankind.

"Oh, most important of bunglers! Oh, my daughter's daughter's brood
Waiting hungry on the threshold; for I cannot bring their food,
Till a fool has learned his business at their virtuous grandam's cost,And a greater fool, our Viceroy, trifles while her name is lost!

"Munim Khan, that Sire of Asses, sees me daily come and go
As it suits a drunken boatman, or this ox who cannot row.
Munim Khan, the Owl's Own Uncle--Munim Khan, the Capon's seed,
Must build a mosque to Allah when a bridge is all we need!

"Eighty years I eat oppression and extortion and delays--
Snake and crocodile and fever, flood and drouth, beset my ways.
But Munim Khan must tax us for his mosque whate'er befall;
Allah knowing (May He hear me!) that a bridge would save us all!"

While she stormed that other laboured and, when they touched the shore,
Laughing brought her on his shoulder to her hovel's very door.
But his mirth renewed her anger, for she thought he mocked the weak;
So she scored him with her talons, drawing blood on either cheek....

Jelaludin Muhammed Akbar, Guardian of Mankind,
Spoke with Munim Khan his Viceroy, ere the midnight stars declined--
Girt and sworded, robed and jewelled, but on either cheek appeared
Four shameless scratches running from the turban to the beard.

"Allah burn all Potter's Widows! Yet, since this same night was young,
One has shown me by pure token, there was a wisdom on her tongue.
Yes, I ferried her for hire. Yes," he pointed, "I was paid."
And he told the tale rehearsing all the Widow did and said.

And he ended, "Sire of Asses--Capon--Owl's Own Uncle--know
I--most impotent of bunglers--I--this ox who cannot row--
I--Jelaludin Muhammed Akbar, Guardian of Mankind--
Bid thee build the hag her bridge and put our mosque from out thy mind."

So 'twas built, and Allah blessed it; and, through earthquake, flood, and sword,
Still the bridge his Viceroy builded throws her arch o'er Akbar's Ford!

- Rudyard Kipling

Losing Touch

2007-04-16T10:49:00.001+05:30

वैसे तो मेरी हिंदी कभी अच्छी नहीं रही है। फिर भी, मुझे लग रहा है कि जितना स्चूल में लिख-पढ़ सकती थी अब मैं वो भी भूल रही हूँ। राम प्यारे मिश्रा जी को पता चला तो वो क्या सोचेंगे? वैसे, सोचने का वक्त भी कहॉ हैं उनको? वो अगली बैच को icse में एक प्वाइंट दिलाने कि कोशिश में लगे होंगे :P । स्चूल के दिनों में तो हर शनिवार के दिन शुद्ध हिंदी में "क्यों बच्ची, काम बनाई हो?" प्रश्न का समाधान अवश्य देना पड़ता था। टीना और मैं प्रेमचंद कि depressing कहानियाँ पढ़ते थे। बोल्ल्य्वूद गीतों में सुने नए शब्दों का अर्थ मस्तेरजी से पूछते थे (वैसे, हमने ऐसा कभी किया नहीं, पर ब्लोग में लिखने के लिए सब कुछ जायज़ है)

शायद मैं यह कहना चाहती हूँ कि मैं न हिंदी ठीक तरह से सीख पायी ना तेलुगु। हिंदी यह कह के नहीं सीखा कि वो मेरी मत्रिभाश नहीं है। और तेलुगु यह कह कर नहीं सीखा कि मैं पैदा तो बिहार में हुई थी na...

अब तो बस, ऑफिस में एक UP वाले MBA हीरो को लीन मारने के में ही हिंदी का प्रयोंग करती हूँ।

क्योंकि वो अल्ल्हाबाद संगीद समिति की music theory परीक्षाएं भी तो नहीं रहीं जहाँ हम बिना कुछ पढे राग परिचय खोल कर नक़ल के जवाब लिखते थे।

लगता है अब चलचित्र देखने और railway station (उसकी हिंदी क्या है) में बिकने वाले बीस रुपिये के डरावने नोवेल पढ़ कर ही हिंदी सीखनी होगी...

आज के लिए बस इतना ही। नमस्कार।

Oopsie!

2007-04-14T21:53:00.000+05:30

This is what deserves to be written in hindi on my blog. My favourite filmi line ever from bluffmaster:

बात करनी हो बात कर। धंदा करना है ना धंदा कर। गोली चलानी है ना, गोली चला।

Close second: मैं लैडीज्ञ लोग के साथ शॉपिंग नहीं करता है। पता है क्यों? भव तोल ज़्यादा करती हैं।

Blogger in Hindi!

2007-04-14T12:26:00.000+05:30

मेरा नाम ज़ाईः है। प्यार से लोग मुझे Sam भी कहते हैं।

बहुत दिनों से इच्छा थी कि मैं हिंदी में भी ब्लोग कर सकूं। आखिर ब्लॉगर ने मेरी सुन ही ली...

थिस इस अ रेअल्ली कूल फीचर।

मेरा मतलब है, this is a really cool feature :-)