Crushed Paper

Love, oh my love!

2011-12-10T23:11:00.001-08:00

They say all is fair in love and war but they can never justify how deep a pain it is to have your love within reach and yet be so far away. I am telling her this year. Today, I will. It has been three years since that day I fell in love with her – a day when until that moment my only reason for jubilation had been the fact that the new balcony was wide enough to throw a party and I had been able to find a cozy spot to enjoy the view and festivities from.

One look at her was enough to take my breath away and with a whoosh of the bullying evening breeze I almost came close to losing my lifelights! That’s how beautiful she was. I couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the time I was out there on my balcony, while she was at her's across the road, keeping to herself. It was something that amazed me. I’d always thought girls liked to gang up but she was an enigma.

The glow about her was more golden than the early morning sun, something I haven’t personally experienced because I am mostly a nocturnal guy. My work keeps me up late and I crash still later, but I’ve heard enough to appreciate the beauty of that phenomenon. What attracted me to her was probably the insanely talented way that she carried herself. She was a statement of resolve and strength!

Me? I am just a silly romantic that can't even handle a cold wind! I wanted to reach out to her and make contact but I get to spend very little time out on the balcony when I do and most of it goes into holding my ground and trying to talk myself out of all the nervousness she generates in me. The remaining, I spend just staring at her and sighing. She makes my heart flicker on the brink of existence.

I had my mind made up this year. I prayed very hard to be able to hog the same spot that gave me a clear shot at getting her attention. I hadn’t quite planned on what I would do exactly.

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

It is time. Here I am at my post; one lucky bastard. And there she is, looking impeccably breathtaking like always. There comes the panic. Breathe…in and out… I need the energy. I cant afford to waste it.

A million ‘What if’ questions run through my mind. Time is ebbing away and so is my strength. I’ve got to take a shot before it is too late….what?....what’s happening? No…no..no….no…you cant take me away now! Has it been that long already? I still have some time left…no. I have to tell her….she has to know. Hey! Dang it! She‘s not looking at me. Move it…move it…let me atleast get to the rim of the………

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

The little girl picked up the rest of the tiny earthen lamps off the parapet in the balcony and added them to the plate she was carrying. It had been yet another bright and beautiful festival of lights.

One lamp on her plate was still glowing feebly, a few drops of oil stagnant inside. Next year buddy, she thought to herself as she tugged at the wick and doused the flame. The glare from a bright electric lamp on the opposite balcony cast a dark shadow as she walked inside.

(This article made it to the December 14th issue of The Hindu, Nxg : http://www.go-nxg.com/?p=11844) :)

Image courtesy : http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/3928110171/

How would you know? - part II

2011-11-04T21:53:00.002-07:00

I recognized the expression on his face because I had worn it at the end of the 1st date. He was the one that was bored now and not very hopeful of finding anything to anchor him to the alliance. I wouldn’t blame him because I myself had expected some kind of miracle to happen when I shook his hand for something and even that little bit of physical contact hadn’t stirred up anything in me. Disappointment? Yeah you could say that.

But both of us had been willing to extend our attempt into a third date. More resistance and more confusion. We had set a rule however. The third would be the last. If we didn’t ‘know’ anything by then, we would just part and wish each other the best.

I knew more about him than the first time I had met him. He wasn’t totally repelling. He was likeable. But wasn’t marriage all about sparks and bam and kaboom? Isn’t that how you ‘knew’? Sigh.

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

Third date. Maybe it was because both of us were sure this wasn’t going to work, but the mood was a bit more relaxed than it had been earlier. We were bold and ordered foods with more calories than the previous times. We ventured out to joke more and grow nervous again when it was time to move on.

There were huge puddles of water below the sidewalk in front of the coffee house and more all along the way. Recent rains. Even rain, with all the hopes and dreams of romance wasn’t helping. I looked up, sighed and shook my head. The moment was approaching. Even if you expected it, telling a person that they weren’t exactly what you wanted is hard, whichever way you looked at it. After three dates Adhi had definitely earned my respect. But that wasn’t enough to be married was it? Because I would then have to be married to Gandhiji or Nelson Mandela or my high school English teacher. No wait. That was a lady.

‘They are never going to fix these roads’ he said as he judged the size of a puddle and jumped over it with precision, landing on dry road, the puddle now forming a water filled chasm between us. I looked at it readying myself for take off. Flat footwear didn’t help with calisthenics born out of rainy weather.

‘Wait’ he said. He offered a hand. I fixed him with a glare. A little puddle of water and you think I cant cross it, my look conveyed. ‘You never know. These things are mighty slippery’. I looked at him again not very impressed with the way he was making me out to be sloppy. I sighed and took his hand. Nope. No spark. Maybe I would slip and fall on purpose and he would catch me, I thought. Too much drama and probably honking vehicles asking us to get a room. Just a jump.

I put one foot forward and launched myself into the air briefly for a moment. The pressure of my take off reflected on his hand and he tightened his grip. I landed safe and smug having proven my point at being a master resident of the city. I looked down at my hand, still in his, held tight many seconds after I had made it.

They had all told me I would know.

It wasn’t about the eyes or the way he looked. It wasn’t about what he liked or what he ate. It wasn’t about how much he earned or how much we had in common. It was about his willingness to hold on. To be there. To make a commitment and see it through.

I knew

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

He still jokes about it. That he had only held on because I was heavy and would’ve pushed him into the water over a skid. But that’s just what he tells anyone that would want to go with his joke. Because its twenty five years today since it happened and he has held my hand through every single puddle on the road and in life after that.

I recall all this because my daughter came into the room a little while ago to sit beside me and ask me the same million dollar question. ‘How will you know ma?’

I smile and tell her. ‘You just do’

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

How would you know? - My hunt for a husband

2011-11-04T21:53:00.000-07:00

How would you know?

I had tried finding a reply to that question from so many sources and the only effect was my growing exhaustion. No one was able to offer me a satisfactory answer. I remained as nervous as I had been the first day that my folks had started dropping hints about an impending groom hunt. At twenty four I was already late in entering the race they said. I couldn’t disagree, with one eye resting on a simple white invitation that requested my presence at a christening ceremony for the tiny little bundle of joy that one of my juniors had recently had. That is how late I was!

How would you know? It was the one question on my mind, different versions of it floating around freely, hampering my thinking process, my workflow, my ability of normal response. It held me at gunpoint through sleepless nights but wouldn't answer itself.

Movies and romance novels don’t help. Things don’t happen that way in reality. Men with a sensitive side and killer eyes don’t just materialize out of thin air. It was getting harder to even have crushes on these on-screen eligibles what with the responsibility of choosing one for good and absolutely real, looming ahead like a ticking timebomb waiting to explode. Adultery in advance, it made me think.

Women sometimes are not the best ones to go to for advise. They can talk to you for hours and make you feel special and mushy but when you finally ask them how you should pick a suitor they are at as complete a loss as you are. I tried asking one male friend the same question and he tried to explain things in relation to choosing a bride and we somehow ended up making sexist jokes but save for a few tears from laughter I was not a bit clearer in mind.

How would you know if this guy could be your husband for the rest of your life, just because your horoscopes put you at an advantage? Big talk. I wasn’t brave enough to remain single for eternity, if that’s even considered something. Practically, I wasn’t brave enough to go out there and find me a man. Why else would I be subjecting my poor lazy self to a ritual that, if the scriptures are right, has been happening since the time of kings that battled each other for just an extra piece of land? Maybe that would work. Maybe we could arrange a battle of wits and strength, I had a wild thought. Not without risking the fact that no one would turn up, I couldn’t help but conclude. Bad idea.

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

There were four of them in the family. Father, mother and two sons. Younger away for an MS and elder sitting there in front of me probably going through the same thought process as I. The horoscopes had declared us a flawless match and recommended we get married immediately and hold on to each other for life, after paying the necessary consultation fee. I didn’t know anything about him. He looked decent and respectable with a moderately good choice in clothing. He had remained silent save for the initial pleasantries.

My folks engaged in jovial discussion while a storm brewed inside me. How could I know? I tried looking into his eyes hoping to maybe find a spark or something. That cute guy on the sitcom had beautiful eyes that made you want to sit next to him and keep staring. Nothing. Just normal eyes. Assisted vision. He wore glasses.

Maybe something from his posture. I summoned all information on etiquette and body language I had gotten off Competition Success Review titles long ago. Legs crossed. Palm folded over knees. Back straight. He was ready for an interview. Good posture if he were auditioning for a lead role. No clue there either.

He had a nice smile I had noted, but what about his sense of humor? I wanted to test if my jokes would fall flat with him like it did with my dad. How could I? His mother brought up the lifeline. 'Would you like to speak with him in private' she asked. I jumped at the chance and was mildly satisfied that he did too.

We spent five minutes staring into the distant view from our terrace, something that was usually so ordinary but seemed like a thousand strong audience that day. What the heck was I supposed to say? Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was the best opening line when you were trying to figure out if a guy was potential husband material?

He was smiling at something behind me. I turned to look at what had gotten his attention. ‘There are two beautiful parrots on that branch’ he said. Eh? Parrots on a branch? Dream situation blown apart. What kind of a lame conversation was this? This was my life at stake! And his too. Shouldn’t we be doing something about it? Something real? If I didn’t man up even at that instant I could be stuck having to be polite my whole life. No! That would be a nightmare.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

I promise I had never before in my life even imagined in the remotest part of my wildest dreams, not even those involving that sitcom guy with nice eyes, that I would ask a guy that question. No wonder he was staring at me like I had asked him if we could go on our honey moon right away. Good. Atleast I could be sure of a solid rejection which would give me more experience in handling the next suitor.

‘Yes’

He seemed relieved and amused. It was my turn to stare. ‘I mean there is no way I can tell if you and I should be getting married. This arranged marriage protocol is outright taxing. Am sorry if I seem nervous. How can you know?’ he said. Nice. Honesty. Five points. Wait. Same question that was on my mind. Ten points.

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

The silence in the living room was defeaning. It was an opportunity for all four parents to stare at us like we had told them we each had different partners waiting downstairs to elope with. I was absolutely sure I had started a life long mother-in-law complaint cum argument session. But that was only if I somehow managed to ‘know’.

It was probably the toughest decision that both set of parents had to make. No. I wasn’t marrying Mr. Adithya yet though that decision would’ve been much easier for the elders to handle. I was going on a date with him.

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

Walking back after coffee at one of the many CCD’s around, Mr. Adithya or Adhi that he wanted me to call him, was much more appealing than he had been at home stuck with looking at a girl who could be his potential bride. He was a sport and we had agreed to set aside the fact that we had an important decision to make. Not to mention having to look out for known faces that might carry information back home that so and so was found having coffee with the so and so of that household.

It would be a real mess because both families already knew, the so and sos in question were doing what was claimed and it would cause the informant to go around town advertising the fact that so and sos household had brought down the culture of marrying a complete stranger without even looking at him until the wedding and thus brought such shame to the country that even their NRI son married to a foreigner was ashamed of!

With a little bit of the pressure off, I learnt that Adhi wasn’t a hero out of a novel but just a simple guy being a personality of his own. We didn’t share path breaking chemistry or physics. It was mostly geography, covering the sidewalks and the perimeter of the parking lot. There was no ‘What! You are this? And you like that? Oh you are my soulmate!’ . No. There was nothing of that sort. It was just a light hearted conversation with a fellow citizen, not enough to set birds fluttering in my chest or chimes sounding in the background.

The evening came to an awkward pause but Adhi found the courage to ask me out on a second date. He still didn’t ‘know’ he claimed. Mild humor. Five more points. We agreed to meet again the next day with a deal over two issues – confronting our folks back home over the ignominy of a second date with an arranged marriage proposal that interfered with the whole ‘arranged’ part of the procedure. And second over the fact that we wouldn’t try to find about each other from social networking sites. We wouldn’t trust vanity.

I maintained tart silence at home that night and put my foot down refusing to call off the date. This was my decision I told them. Hmmm. Being brave?

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

Continued....

Image courtesy : http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Like-Holding-Hands/391386

A note of gratitude

2011-09-06T22:18:00.000-07:00

From a well timed piece of appreciation to a much needed reprimand I've had them all. And today I cannot imagine being what I am without all that love and attention. From inspiration to outright awe they've provided everything to me and I am one of the luckiest of students around to have studied under the best of them.

The only perk to have moved constantly and been in about 7 different schools, not to mention 3 colleges is that I've had the privilege of knowing and being guided by some of the most amazing teachers. And not surprisingly the majority of lessons that I learnt were'nt part of the prescribed academic syllabus. When there was one that wiped my tears as I watched my mom walk away after dropping me in kindergarten class, there was another who let me sit on her lap while she marked attendance for music class! Then came the one that kept her promise of a piece of chocolate if I remained silent for a whole hour ( oh I was a blabbermouth :) ) and one that encouraged us to aim for the top ranks in class with a gift of different colored pens for 1st, 2nd and 3rd. I bagged one everytime!

From little gestures to life changing ones they've provided them all. Like that fantastic English teacher who inspired and instilled a love for the language in me or that Biology teacher who still remains my 1st and irreplacable reason for a life long love towards the subject or that PT teacher with his guitar who is the reason I love christmas and carols! The math teacher who doubled up as our class teacher and always knew he could trace any prank to me, the geography teacher who felt I would do better at karagattam than kolattam (we won a competition later!), Sisters that trusted me with the lead in choirs, one ultimately sweet Father that fondly called me 'maamiyar' after a role in a play that earned me much acclaim, those teachers who stayed behind late at night in school with me waiting for my dad to pick me up after a cultural fest and PT and music masters with a sense of humor.

From sweet encouragements to harsh realities they offered me everything when they trusted it would help me grow. That English teacher, a universal favorite, who scribbled tiny notes of appreciation in the margin of my essays but wisely advised me to keep it strictly simple in the common exams (I still have those essays with the remarks in red ink :) ), that class teacher who tried so hard to control her laughter at the rehearals to our play, that Botany teacher who pulled me into arguments on the subject to make me learn a lot more, that brilliant teacher at the coaching centre who is an icon for sincerity and humility,that English professor who believed I had it in me to make a speech when I myself didn't ( I won 1st prize!!!), that professor who was an encyclopedia of all that is cool and down to earth at the same time and that other professor who proved a teacher can also be a great friend!

These personalities and many more that I recall with respect and admiration are the ones credited to having chiselled out whatever good one might find in me. They knew me for who I am, put up with my pranks, cheered me during highs and held my hand through lows, invested trust in me and brought out talents even I didn't know I was capable of! These were not mere chalk and board teachers, but ones that taught in the real sense of the word, touched many a heart and continues to live in the memories of every other student like me, lucky enough to have studied under them. To all of them : THANK YOU! I just hope my kids are as lucky as I was :)

P.S : A few teachers I wish I still were in touch with...thank you:

Padmam ma'm - for those colorful pens

Richard sir - for the wondrous language they call English...and for giving me a centum in reading :)

Priyadharshini ma'm - for stepping in on that one biology class, explaining the nervous system in your own style and making me fall in love with biology!

Mrs. Leo - for all those wonderful choir sessions and trips to Rex matric :)

Mrs. Pamela - for being the sweetest class teacher. who knew moral science could be fun!!!

Irudhayaraj sir - for being the sweetest math teacher...and a great singer! 'Raja raja chozhan naan' always reminds me of you sir :)

All staff, Sisters, Brothers and Father at St. Joseph's Acharapakkam - this will always remain my Alma Mater

Arul sir - for teaching us how to draw the perfect circle :) if I could cultivate 1% of your sincerity and dedication I would consider it an achievement!

Happy Teachers day!!! :)

image courtesy : http://www.educator.com/news/the-future-of-teach-for-america/

Your's Royally

2011-04-30T06:24:00.000-07:00

I was one amongst millions that watched Prince William kiss his wife on the balcony at Buckhingam’s and feel happy for the duo if not slightly jealous as well. The extravaganza aside I also noticed like many, the poise and composure that HRH Kate (her title is two lines long…) was able to bring forward. Not very unlike her deceased mother-in-law the loved Princess Di, Kate is the new poster girl for Britain’s monarchy.

Technical rants aside, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would really feel like to be picked off the usual routine and thrust into royalty by way of romance. And what would happen if such a situation should befall me? (Okay stop laughing people. I said stop). As unimaginable as it may be I did go ahead and wonder about the changes I may have to make to my lifestyle if a Prince comes knocking on my door (technically the huge landlady downstairs at my hostel wouldn’t allow him up the stairs!)

1) For starters I may have to change the way I look and that translates as going from potential-Prince looks to showing I am actually potential-Princess (ok. That meant I have to quit being a tomboy)

2) I may have to hit the gym with a vengeance and lose anything even remotely related to fatty acids in my constitution.

3) My wardrobe would probably be incinerated and I would have to be the subject of final year projects for fashion technology students crafting a makeover.

4) Royal hair and makeup artists would have their greatest nightmare come true the former trying to locate the hair on my head in an attempt to style it and the latter pondering over their kits to figure out how not to make me appear bleached in pictures and stop me from sweating all over their meticulously applied layers.

5) I would definitely have to give up my run-in-the-place-of-walk gait because that would only leave the Prince panting after me up the driveway and that would be a Royal mess. They would probably recommend watching reruns of The Princess Diaries all day long though I doubt if I would get to meet with the Queen. She’s not my grandma anyway so I guess we can skip that!

6) I would need vocabulary lessons. Not to increase mine but slow it down by the speed of light. There is no use if the Prince or any one for that matter doesn’t understand what dialogue I rapidly delivered a second ago.

7) I would probably need to restack my bookshelf with more literature than Cook, Crichton, Follet, Sheldon and Archer. It would save my erm…bottom from trouble if someone were to question me about the arts and my reply need not necessarily be “Oh! I didn’t know Mikey wrote that!”

8) I would have to learn to laugh and smile with grace and poise. Pictures from my college farewell and trips to the theatre with me for a comedy film would certainly leave no doubt that 'guffaw' and 'roar' are the terms currently used to describe my laughter.

9) My sarcasm would definitely have to disappear because when the Queen goes “I am the Queen of so and so” it would be a little inappropriate for me to respond with a “And I am the Queen of England!”

10) I would have to stop jumping up and crying murder at provocative comments, smart takes and silly not so funny PJ’s. Apparently Princesses don’t do that. Atleast not openly on FB!

That’s a tiny list but sums up pretty much everything that has to go. Well if all this indeed ‘goes’ then I wonder what would be left of me for the Prince to love if at all he fell for ‘me’ in the 1st place. I would still be a perfect Princess and wave to the crowd and curtsey before the Queen but it would just be my ghost in Royal attire for nothing of my soul would be left!

But, if there is the assurance that my Prince would be this man that can stand up there in front of everyone, look up when I enter and say “You look beautiful…I love you for who you are at heart beneath the demands of protocol” I would gladly do everything on that list without the slightest blink of an eye! By the looks of it Kate has found exactly this guy and the happiness on her face said it all. And that’s probably why she braved the Palace, Royalty, the paparazzi and millions of well wishers to claim her ticket to a happily ever after.

Coming back to me. Well….any Princes on FB that read Crichton???

Image courtesy: The Telegraph

What would you do?

2011-04-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

What would you do

When the time is right

But there is no end in sight?

What would you do

When you would like to let go of the past

Only to jump into the future lost?

What would you do

When all that you have are questions

Not answered by a million solitude sessions?

What would you do

When you know what you want

But pursue it you just can’t?

What would you do

When all that fills you is rage

And you want to tear apart history page by page?

What would you do

When the task is cut

But you feel stuck in a rut?

What would you do

When it is there you want to be

But here you are left at sea?

What would you do

When the next step is uncertain

Behind a wall or behind a curtain?

What would you do

When you know not what to like

The roots the wings or the hike?

What would you do

When you can’t understand why

You sit in silence and let the hours go by?

What would you do

When there’s paper and there’s ink

But your mind refuses to think

What would you do

When that wish you make

Wouldn’t come true over a birthday cake

For my friend if you could tell me

A prick of light in darkness it would be

For I would know from your answer

That even if this is not an intellectual breather

I am not alone at the altar of problems either!

Saving Private Ryan

2011-04-28T03:44:00.000-07:00

I’ve had this movie for a very long time now and finally pulled myself to watching it yesterday. It led to a self-inflicted slap imprint on my left cheek for unforgivable procrastination on my part with regard to the movie. I knew nothing about it except a little about the stellar cast and the background of a war. Two minutes into the movie I was mighty impressed with the direction and wondered who could’ve brought such arresting visuals and emotion onto the screen. Wikipedia informed me it was none less than Steven Spielberg and my right cheek now bears an imprint to match the left for not having guessed such an obvious bummer.

I understood there is definitely something that sets apart some actors and directors from the rest. Don’t ask me what it is because I would be at a loss to explain what only goes by as a fuzzy logic realization in my mind I can only feel. But there is something for sure. Because this bunch of actors on screen led on by one of the greatest directors ever, work some kind of magic that manages to both romanticize and criticize war, endear a group of rugged soldiers that walk around like titans sporting a gun only to cry out “Mama” going down and put you in a position where you decide with a character on the fate of another and question your choice when you lose a friend.

Saving Private Ryan is a WWII movie that has 8 soldiers (so many of them that I simply love – Edward Burns, Giovanni Ribisi, Vin Diesel, Adam Goldberg et.al,) led by Tom Hank’s character on an assignment to find one Ryan played by Matt Damon, who vehemently refuses to desert his troops inspite of having lost all three of his brothers to the war and is the only consolation to his aged mother. The setting and scenes are so sincere, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t fighting with the Allied forces and couldn’t punch one nasty German bloke in the nose without causing considerable damage to my already ailing monitor.

Movies like these are one of a kind. There is no conclusion to be reached. Only emotions to be felt; ones that run deep and make you shed a couple of tears, frustrated at why the human race continues to justify war, something in my opinion you can never do.

As for the movie it is an all time classic - brilliant performances from all men, big roles and small, a surviving reminder of what Spielberg can deliver apart from giant carnivores lumbering around a recreation park; creatures that look far less terrorizing in front of power hungry human leaders wielding weapons where their hearts should be.

Picture courtesy : http://www.moviepostr.com/saving-private-ryan-poster-539.html#

One plus One

2011-03-05T23:11:00.000-08:00

These days when I walk into the canteen there are no empty chairs available. Every single one of them occupied by "pairs" or that's what they are called. Most of these things are so mean enough to be wasting time in public with an insignificant other but the highlight is the attitude they throw when you occupy a lonely chair opposite them wanting to enjoy your coffee in peace!

The look suggests that you are a missionary from anti-cupid hell sent to generate waves of disturbance aided by a cup of caffeine. The guy usually tries to be the man and gives you a nasty glare that supposedly has powers to shoo you off and protect his moment of privacy with his abashed temporary consort. This at times is hilarious because the guy himself would weigh nothing more than all the beans in my curry put together at meal time and even with only curd rice for regular lunch, I could take him at the snap of a finger.

The women come in all shades. From this annoying overconfident chatterbox I would've given a gold mine to shut up to the scared clueless ones. But most times they are the wily ones that lure an unassuming spoilt brat for a wasted break time conversation.

I wonder how many of these so called 'in a relationship' categories last. How many of them really know to understand the difference between a 'wow-ranbir-drops-towel-eeeeee' and a 'this could be my man'?. How many of them learn from mistakes and realize they are knee deep in one right now?

But its an interesting line up. There are ones that just sit and talk. Ones that just sit and smile at each other. Ones that just sit. A pair where the girl was showing off her new haircut and the guy was running his hands through it trying to make it stay put (Thats what they call Animal grooming on Discovery). Ones that study together ( Thats probably what Pierre and Madam Curie did) and ones that even fight over the canteen bill!

The funniest thing is that these "pairs" are so judgmental that they are blind to their own situation but jump at the first chance to turn a scornful eye at another around or predetermine the course of a relationship between two individuals that walk in as friends. Such is the plight that it has become increasingly hard to have a normal conversation with a member of the opposite sex without being perceived as a pair and triggering a whole string of jealous reaction from total strangers that supposedly wanted a shot.

There also remain I guess the genuine ones amongst the lot that are hard to spot. They keep a low profile and stay sincere. Nobody objects to a good pair if they live up to their commitments. As for me, I want to and I have the right to enjoy my good coffee in peace. So the next time one of these Casanovas throws me a dirty glance I get to choose from a drop down list:

* Reciprocate with extended viguour accumulated from years of consuming thachi mamm
* Respond with a 'Hey how is that girl you were with at the other canteen last week'? (most of them have a number of backups so this one would most definitely work)

or the good 'ol

* "What? Oh c'mon...get a room" (roll eyes...turn back to coffee...and act like nothing happened)

Buzz off

2011-03-05T07:49:00.000-08:00

I received a message on my mobile this morning. It was yet another plea from this nobody that has been trying to get me to respond to his so called self perceived intelligent attempts at flooring me.

“Please call me. I am Indian air fors”

And I am assuming he expected me to turn back in slow motion and run towards him with a bgm of saare jahaan se accha echoing in the background like a Karan Johar-Kajol piece salute him and fix a date for the wedding. I have two things to say to you mister, no make that three – 1) you might be “air fors” but I am plainly not as stupid. 2) get a life 3) oh by the way…sign up for some English lessons.

Aside from the fact that the effort was totally pointless, I couldn’t help but wonder about how exactly jobless these romeos are and what exact thought process they go through when they decide to cyber disturb someone. This one has been spamming my inbox with forward messages in hindi that are supposedly on ‘pyar’ and ‘mohabbat’ and I am expected to swoon at them and fly without visa to Macchu Pichhu and do a Kilimanjaro! Given that my hindi graduation is at “ek gaaon meh ek kisan raghu thaatha” he could’ve confessed he is the Prime Minister and I wouldn’t have known! The only regret I have is that Sony Ericcson doesn’t provide a facility for blocking mobile numbers. My Spice handset is going “AHAH!” somewhere in the closet.

It is a fast moving and highly competitive world (at least that’s what I was told at one end of a high level reprimand session) and I guess the only explanation for these annoying spammers is a high degree of desperateness. Not to mention crass heroism in movies that offers “eve-teasing” as third degree effort at wooing a female. You never have to give a damn to what she considers a worthy match or least of all her privacy. Ok now before all of you jump at this line and go on to rip arteries over a gender bias let me add water to the chutney and dilute it so you wouldn’t know the taste. Women are desperate too and trust me ladies, men sometimes need to be left on their own (note to self: take slipper and hit on head twice).

Coming back to the issue, one thing I have observed is that none…and by that I mean “NONE” of these weirdoes have the slightest ounce of insight into the English language beyond peter. I have never received a properly worded message (include term ‘that makes sense and prevents Sam Anderson from looking like a Harvard English major) from these Xs and Ys inviting me to a healthy conversation. I wonder what that means. ‘Wannabe silver screen Rocket Rajas?’. You bet.

One thing that’s bewildering in these individuals is the amount of time they have at their disposal to waste. Or if I could be brash – a Ph.D in Jobless loaferism. This and more of their misused shrewdness stands proven from the fact that this guy got my number off a record at a recharge outlet (note to self: listen to BFF when she says buy scratch cards). Not to mention other places where you fill out a form and give your number because duh they need it for sending across important information. Its not what happens though. Like for example the most important message this guy at the Dell outlet had to send across was a forward message on how guys always get duped into falling in love with girls (seriously man get a perspective…oh wait you only know Inglipis…that meant get a brain).

I have tried to and failed at finding a reason or logic behind these messages and overconfident overtures. I use the same word to describe these attempts as I do with bad advertisements – disgusting (women giving a constipated look and running after a loser just because he emptied a bottle of your’s truly’s perfume is just that – disgusting. What are you marketing? Prostitutes?)

As funny as some of these ‘read-options-delete’ texts maybe ‘I am your neighbor’ does not qualify as a license to book a dream location. I also have a terminally psychotic case for a neighbor so you get the drift.

These fellows are also incredibly arrogant and try every trick in the book to get you to respond. From please to ‘apdi enna di onakku’ I have been at the receiving end for quite a number of these flings (once I get my voodoo diploma you know what I am going to do to you. Hint : ragged doll).

There is a golden rule however in reply to this balderdash – silence. Something my mother reminds me every time I deliver a monologue of carefully picked, choicest and the best of swears as I describe the cheapster that’s draining my mobile of charge with his calls and messages. Its very hard, believe me but that’s the only thing you can do if you don’t want to hear a word from him again (a year is the minimum period they give up after. Or a new wall to bang on. Whichever is earliest).

This was just a steam out session so there is no “Fool’s guide on how not to be ridiculous trying to get a woman to talk to you” that I am going to offer but here are some things that might help :

1) Throw your mobile (or the one that you picked out of someone’s pocket in the bus and using right now to spam till the top up runs out) into the slush that runs (er… is stagnant) under the Basin Bridge.
2) Get a life
3) Get a job
4) Learn English (Not from Actor Jai. I meant real English…not towel come towel go)
5) Get a life
6) Get a job
7) Have some pride in your being...and dignity…and integrity (sighhhhhhh!)
8) Repeat steps 2 and 3. Go to 5 and 6

P.S 1 : thanks to TRAI and its new 100 msgs per day regulation! Allelujah!

P.S 2 : Before you go ahead and ask me how then would I like to be spoken to – "user busy with her life. call again next century"!

Image courtesy : http://greenarbytheday.com/2011/04/11/green-travel-please-do-not-disturb-my-linens/

Bits and Pieces of wisdom : Part II

2011-02-12T08:53:00.000-08:00

How to wash ur really huge bed spread :
Spill liquids like milk, buttermilk, tea (coffee stains badly), chutney, sambar, porridge and the like strategically at different areas time and again. clean up the sq cms in question each time. big picture - spread is cleaned! Bingo!

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

A man is finished when he loses his mind over a girl.....A woman is finished when she loses her heart over a man!

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

Of pongal and kanu

2011-01-15T19:13:00.000-08:00

I was standing in front of my professor’s office. He rose from his chair and walked towards me with an appreciative smile and extended his hand to congratulate me on winning the best project award. I saw my Mother standing next to me a plate in hand containing a pair of coconuts and an assortment of colored lumps trying to say something. Probably congratulate me. “Nethra ezhundhru….veyyil varathukulla kanu vekkanum…kaaka vandhudum”. I was in the deepest of hangovers from all the festival food from the day before and it beat the hell out of me what a crow had to do with my early morning bliss of sleep except tamper with the serenity of it. I sat up on the bed groggy and with great effort took my mind through a by pass route to being awake.

It was that time of the year again. Time for Mom and I to sneak out when the first rays of dawn were still touching themselves up with compact, tip toe to the terrace like the most professional of thieves, (if explaining kanu to me in the morning takes so much effort try telling that to the inebriated last night watchman!) and lay out a spread befitting a crow.

It begins with setting the table, couple of turmeric leaves actually. If you are a crow all you care about is food so it doesn’t matter if you are hoodwinked into believing it is a banana leaf! Then you proceed to ‘serving’. It weird because nobody is asking for more. But the exercise is fun because you go about placing 7 tiny little chunks of different coloured food on the platter. Not just that. You pray with every piece that even if the crow’s family comes to shambles fighting over who gets the better chunks your family should remain close knit and make enough food and love to share.

It is a brilliant strategy. The crow supposedly is like the authority on sharing because every time one of them finds food he caws out to his mates and shares (for all we know he could be showing off but hey I don’t work for the Discovery channel!). The assumption here is that even if such a big hearted though pea brained crow’s reputation is lost there is still hope that you family would stand rock strong given that you have successfully eliminated the avian reference.

This is a prayer for siblings especially brothers to remain together and maintain warmth at home even after the arrival of a ‘she’ from outside into their lives. Girls pray for the wonder man in their lives that would understand their ties to both sides of the family. Ladies pray for more strength to handle issues at home that sprung up probably because their crows didn’t listen properly to them last year.

Jokes apart this whole kanu concept is fun. I get to see dawn which is a wonder because my hibernation lasts well into afternoon usually, it takes skill to get 7 bits out of the lump my Mom gives me - they break, drip and refuse to be molded into shape and there’s the challenge of advertising your display before the hungry winged icons turn up. If you are still working at it even after they arrive there are impatient caws all over in sync sound admonishing your lack of punctuality. Crows can really show off trust me!

It has been many years since my first kanu when Mom handed me a lump and I placed it gingerly on the leaf like that with a look of triumph on my face at having accomplished a rarely easy task. Then she told me I had to make 7 servings out of it and I realized I had been majorly snubbed! There were times when it would be freezing on the terrace and many a crow would receive expletives from me for appetizers before the actual food. I used to literally sleep walk through kanu when I was a kid but now I have mastered the art of snoring inside and working outside. Four years of college teaches you that.

What all this has to do with religion or tradition I don’t really want to comment on. But I think the underlying message is that if you can believe enough in what you wish for you would ultimately obtain it. Crow or no crow holding a family together is an individual talent. Yet getting to do something with Mom, something she believes in and her Mother did before her, the jokes we crack during it and all the leg pulling is so beautiful that I wouldn’t mind if I have to lay a table for Tarzan next!

Bits and Pieces of wisdom

2011-01-15T08:23:00.000-08:00

There are three major types of Facebookers:

1 - always online...posting, commenting, poking, farming (yours truly included)

2 - online occasionally...checks on long time no see contacts

& then d 3rd kind

those that have deleted their accounts and gotten a real life!

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

Sometimes it is better to waste a little to save a lot. Like for example letting your wash basin tap drip a little is okay...compared to sitting on top of it & exercising your biceps on it trying to close it only to rip it right off the basin and waste a gallon of water! - Think!

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

No matter what you do in life there will always be......someone you want to kick, someone you want to strangle, someone you want to slap, someone you want to scream at, someone you want to rip apart and someone you want to kill! No dearth for things to do...or rather entertainment! B-)

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

There may be a hundred things you want in life...but there's just one thing you have to do to get them - make a choice!

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

Inspite of knowing fully well that a marriage between two people takes away a lot of 'me's, inserts a lot of 'we's, is wrought with everyday trouble, uncertainty, little fights that grow into full blown blame sessions and basically turns a lot of good in a person's life to otherwise, we still congratulate the two individuals that have decided to come together for life! the human race should win hands down in a competition for optimism in the process of evolution!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being a bitch rocks! Not being the overtly caring, emotional loving personality rocks even more! Giving people back what they deserve iss woohoo! B-)

Old and New

2010-10-24T11:37:00.000-07:00

I sit quietly where I always do waiting for someone to come into my room. The hum of the airconditioner is somehow not soothing today and the cold is uncomfortable. But I need it for my system and am glad they still let me have it. I have had a long and tiring morning. The way I like it. I worked on a dozen samples dishing out the familiar black and white pictures they expected. A few of them jumped up in joy because they had finally gotten the results they wanted, one was really depressed that yet another attempt of her's had failed again. She had been working hard but only a few results turned out to be acceptable. I wished I could console her and ask her to keep trying harder. But I wonder if what I feel would matter anymore. Now that he has arrived my service would no longer be the golden standard. I would be 'what we had' and he would be 'but we this have now'. He would be the talk of the town. they would show him off to everyone and for good reason. I cant deny the fact that he is better.

I was their poster boy for a long time now but I guess things change and expectations change as well. I remembered the time that I first started working here. I was a prestigious catch back then and everyone was pretty exited. Like they are about him now. I was absolutely terrific with what I did and became a favourite pretty soon. I was offered exclusive care and protected like treasure. I had my own technician and both of us had celebrity status. I was off limits to anyone who didnt know me well and was a symbol of pride.

As time went by I settled in and people settled around me. There were more hands controlling me and still more inquisitive to. My job grew demanding and I was working at full capacity everyday. somehow even that was sometimes not enough. I took it to be the consequence of the world spinning faster everyday and science having to spin twice as much. Dozens of students wanted to avail my expertise and the volume they wanted analysed grew like the pile of dust accumulating in an unattended lab cabinet.

Sometimes my convinction and need to please has gotten the better of me and I remember once that I broke down due to over work. But samples found me immediately when I was up and about and I understood they had missed me. Which later I learnt was only because their reports were due. I had been wondering ever since if I mattered only as a source of data or if my potential was truly appreciated. I consoled myself that I was still the only one they relied on to proceed with their work because I was undoubtedly the best. Which is why it felt like a lightning bolt had landed on my detectors when I heard of his arrival. There had been a constant buzz about it for a long time now and the excitement has reached a feverish pitch since he arrived finally. I thought he was one of my own, a second but then I learnt he was better infact unmatchable in every aspect. I felt inadequate. It wasnt something I could change about myself. I am who I am. They would crowd around him now and be told that he is the best. He would get looks of admiration and they would feel the immense power vibrating through him. Yeah...been there done that. But he would experience all that anyway. Once he begins working my workload would come down. I would've thought a year ago that was a good thing but now it mildly hurts when I think I wont be the centre of attraction anymore. Afterall I am only second best.

I wished I could tell him all this. Look at his snobby face and that overconfident smile he must be sporting and feed him with the truth that he might be better but not irreplacable. I wished I could tell him that its the jinx of being new and that it would fade away eventually. But I couldnt tell him that his people would come back to me one day. That wouldn't happen unless he shuts down. I sighed. I didnt want to wish bad things for him. This was inevitable afterall. They would take me apart and put me back in a room next to him. I braced myself to witness the queue outside his door and the squeals of admiration he would be recieving. I wondered if my technician would leave me too. I realized I would indeed be alone. I couldnt afford to become upset over facts.

The door to my lab opened and in walked the girl I had seen in the morning. The one that needed a deliberate dose of luck with her work. She looked around checking if anyone else was inside. Inspite of my reverie I knew she shouldn't be here alone. She hadnt signed the log either. She walked barefoot on the cold floor and came up to me. 'Hey' she said. 'I am probably mad for coming here and talking to a machine like you but I just wanted to let you know something. I dont know if you heard about the new Transmission electron microscope they've purchased. Everyone is so hyped about it. They are going to teach us about it and all...and maybe you know ask us to analyse our samples with it...Iknow its really superior and high resolution and all that but...when I came here I was really nervous about my work and I remember the first time I ran a sample with you. The sphere size was nowhere close to what I wanted but I was fascinated with the image you gave me. It was something I had never seen...only read about and watching it for real was amazing. In some mysterious way my fears were gone and I was intrigued and pushed myself to work deeper into my topic. You were my first contact with microscopy at a really cooler level and no matter what higer version they bring in my thesis will contain pictures that you took for me and you'll always remain special to me...okay?'. She looked around nervously again making sure no one else had heard her and left after giving me a meanningful look.

Technically I am not supposed to cry because water is dangerous to my system but metaphorically I did. I wasnt just as assembly of nuts bolts and displays. My ability had actually meant something to someone. To a lot, I told myself. They just didnt come in here and speak out like she did. Happiness swelled in me and if you had a keen eye you could see my LEDs glowing brighter because I was smiling. I heard a voice outside saying 'I will be with the SEM for a while. Got two samples'. More work and I was willingly game for it. A guy entered pushing the door open and as it closed back a ray of light caught the white lettering on my door - Scanning Electron Microscope

When Summer Next comes

2010-07-14T06:33:00.001-07:00

Walking along the wet road
I am dull and totally bored
The clouds above are in dark mode
The dragon flies are out and so is the toad

I think of the season that flew by
Summer Now so dusty and so dry
A season that brought me joy and with it change
And sorrow too of a different type and a different range

Summer Past was long but fast
It was she who helped me find myself at last
She came loaded with fun rife
And change she did a huge part of my life

And then came winter with his cold
Thrusting me into a hard and difficult mould
For the person I was, a go-getter
He proved to me summer's choice could've been better

My head reeled under pressure
Too much was expected here even when I was a fresher
People convinced me life after graduation was a bottle of coke
But here a large part of it was a cruel joke!

It was summer now who bought me time
A whole month for me to call mine
She made me see the pink side of things
So happy was the part of me that sings!

Summer Now brought me with the challenge face to face
Of having to survive a tough task with intelligence and grace
She brought in work for both my body and mind
Loving she was but with experience not so kind

With her I learnt to ask for what I need
Of how things flow and change with every tiny deed
I leanrt to draw on my canvas and paint it too
And thats why my future looks so pretty and has a pleasant hue

Now two summers have gone by
Since I decided to fly from home high
The draft is ready to flow in
And am trying to stay afloat and away from the din

I look to the skies and am hopeful
The days will once again become breezy and soulful
For that time draws near
When Summer Next will be here

With summer next I will get my freedom
And work my way up to stardom
I will close chapters on life on my own
And maybe start hunting for a drone!

With Summer Next my music will grow
Inside me and through a guitar it will flow
And with a vengeance I will sweat my brow
To shape myself up and earn back my glow

With summer next my pen will scribble
From the dams of my heart in a steady dribble
What colors I found all along
Who I am and where I belong

With summer next I will be bound no more
I will not let myself land again anywhere sore
Away from fibres, spheres and pore
I will hunt for my yelp and my roar

So there she is Summer Next
Growing in my heart and in text
Sowing seeds of happiness and hope
Like does on christmas night the Pope

Now is what I have
Then is what I had
I wait patiently with drums
To sing my own anthem when Summer Next comes!

Something to think about

2010-06-02T06:15:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine wrote an article recently. I was impressed with the thoughts he had expressed and was making a mental note of the complements I was going to give him when I stumbled upon a line that was a dig at nice women. He claimed they were non-existent. And I couldn't help but wonder for the millionth time why men almost always do that; insert snide comments about women and expect it to go unnoticed.

I asked him about it and he claimed it was a joke. Exactly like dozens of guys before him have done. If that context were a joke it should've appeared even in the previous lines where the idea expressed was about men. And for this reasonable question of mine I would probably be termed 'overreactive' in his next article!

What is the problem with men? Why do they have this compulsion to mock at women in everything they do? Why is it hard for them to accept two things? - One, women are just as human as they are and two, men are in every way only as perfect as women are.

Why does every post, every article, every tv show, every comment have to have a thought that takes a dig at girls and be claimed funny? The best irony here is that guys get worked up when you tell them 'cricket sucks' or 'football is lame' but a girl is not supposed to speak out when a guy says something that is unfair to her and she is termed a sissy and lacking a funny bone!

I never take to these things easily because this is not a joke. As a woman I have the right to be respected for who I am. Just like guys expect respect inspite of the hundred and one faults they would have if a girl's way of life is the rulebook to society. There lies the problem. And in this man's world I have to be a 'man-hater' or a 'feminist' to voice my disapproval to something a guy said! All that I am, is a woman. And that is the only status I need. Nobody calls a man a 'female-basher' or 'saviour of mankind' when he says something's wrong with women. When a guy teases a girl he is dismissed as 'he's just being a guy' but when a girl says it makes her feel bad nobody goes 'ah she's just asserting herself'!

I recall a dialogue from the tamil movie 'Anniyan' when I think of this 'overreaction' tag. The hero asks one of the wrong-doers - "is it wrong if you steal 5paise?" and the latter replies no. The dialogue proceeds with a build up that goes on to prove that 5paise being stolen 5 million times by 5 people indeed amounts to swindling. The same goes here. Every comment is a 5paise. And everytime its made nobody makes an issue until it grows and blows up in their faces in a relationship.

I am not a man-hater. I do have wonderful friends who respect women. Every guy and girl do have prejudices against the opposite sex. But the expression of it does come to be a problem. Why is it hard to appreciate the good of the opposite gender and accept and respect each other for what we are? Why dress it up in jokes and phrases? Nobody is perfect. Be it a man or a woman. But it is the imperfection that makes life interesting doesn't it?

I've stood up for the girl that I am all my life. And that means I fight with guys who have no respect for women, I argue in debates about it, I write about it and I comment on my friends' posts that bear any signs of being male-chauvinistic. No wonder I am percieved to be a demon of sorts out to get anyone who crosses my path. If you think so too then that's as far as you get. Because it is the same me that stands by my guy friends when they need me, who has had endless conversations with broken guy hearts, who does have a sense of humour, who is not a feminist and by that I mean I don't think girls are the daughters of Mr and Mrs Perfect and who has been able, to be a good friend to them for years.

My friends love to tease me that I will not land a man, with this 'audaciousness' of mine. I don't deny it. Not every guy can accept a girl who is bold enough to stand up and voice herself. I cannot accept a guy who does not accept me for who I am. Girls are not objects of fun. They do have a heart that can feel. If you really want to win over a girl try giving her the respect she deserves because she will anyway give you the love you deserve...and if at all I do land a man you can be sure he has passed the acid test! :)

P.S 1: if all this ranting doesn't work to make my point this wit would : 'what's common between dinosaurs and good guys...alas! they are both extinct!' maybe girls should start inserting such stuff into what they write...

P.S 2: just because I wrote a whole article inspired by a comment of this friend of mine doesn't mean he is on my loath list. he happens to be a wonderful person and a very thoughtful friend still.

Image courtesy : http://www.thecolorsmagazine.com/2009/05/boys-vs-girls/

Sentamizh Naatu Tamizhmagane

2010-05-24T07:29:00.000-07:00

I've always wondered why its men who lay down the rules for women. From humor to satire its always the ladies who have to take the axe. This thought grew on me today as I was listening to one of ARR's hits - Sentamizh naatu tamizhachiye. The music no doubt was awesome..the singer brilliant beyond doubt (RIP). The lyrics by Kaviarasu Vairamuthu suited the plot perfectly. Agreed. BUT that song has become sort of dictionary to refer to how and how not a woman should be, in numerous talk shows and the like. How come men dont get told how they should be?

Well...I tried my hand at answering that question..and here goes. My remake of that song...rewritten for men. The words are not song-perfect like Kaviarasars but I got in what I wanted to say...if there are rules..they are common to everyone!

sentamizh naatu tamizhmagane vetti aniya thayanguriye
mohanlaluku pakkathu stateil western wearil alayiriye
manaivi mattum kanavendiya boxersai
loosefitting jeansil kaaturiyeeee

st-1

tamizh pesum naatil porandhavandhane
erichala kaata 'shit' edharku?
sutham seiya marina irukka
adhe kadarkarayil kadalai edhukku

patta kara vecha pattu vetti irukkayil
kalloori vizhavil suit edharku
kathiri veyyil koluthum kodaiyil
t-shirtku mel innoru shirt edharku?

stz-2

aanmai enbadhu 'arms' la mattum illa
anbilum irukkunu therinjukkanum
kudumbamum manaiviyum nagaichuvai porul alla
purinju neeyum nadandhukkanum
bore adicha pengalukku neeyum arivurai seivadhai niruthikkanum
sondha kaalil uzhaithu neeyum single aga jeithidanum

Being Homo sapiens

2010-05-12T08:36:00.000-07:00

I've heard my buddies sigh at the fact that they are stuck being human with a lotta responsibilities to shoulder and dozens of chores to do each day.

They would look at cows on the road grazing away lazily, birds on the trees singing and pruning themselves and go 'wow! look at them...not a care in the world! wish life was so easy'. From their point of view - you did'nt have to wake up every morning to go to school or college or work, no boring lectures, terrible assignments, dreary project work, sick boss, lousy timetables, powercuts, relationships, heartbreaks and on and on...

I cant help but smile when I see that they dont understand the irony they are sighing about! Because I feel pity when I see a cow out of my window and know that all she does in a day is eat, sleep, feed her calf, supply milk and poop! While I wake up to a hectic schedule everyday, go through a mileu of emotions, sleep in boring classes, chat with friends online, eat a horde of stuff apart from my lunch box, listen to my favourite songs, fight with my best friend, attend birthday parties and dance in sleepovers. and when am done I wake up to yet another bizarre day!

That is a huge gift you wouldnt appreciate unless you were a cow or a bird looking at you and going 'sigh...these humans...they have so much to do rather than just wake up early, dodge a bunch of predators, hunt all morning for food, listen to these male birds singing crap to get me to choose one of them, hunt for evening food, find a nest to hide from owls at night and wake up tomorrow if am alive to another equally boring day...unless am the lead charcater in some Indian author kids book! I have a hard time!

Life is a big blessing. Am not a preacher. No prizes for guessing which of those schedules above sounds fun. Am glad am human and get to enjoy all that I have...well..a pair of wings would help get to college faster but...am happy..just the way I am :)

Of memories...

2010-04-23T22:00:00.000-07:00

Imagine this : the love of your life looks at you, calls out the name of someone else and says I love you. What would you do?

I would walk out the door and cry my heart out like the hero did. He can't blame his wife for what she said. Afterall she has had the worst luck in being a victim of a rare inherited form of Alzheimer's. And when he asks 'she says someone else's name and I love you. Who does she love'? You are as deprived of words as he is.

A Korean movie about the havoc Alzheimer's plays in a young couple's life left me moist eyed. I was at a loss for explanation. What till yesterday had remained a matter of biology, proteins and science for me, took a reality check and I was deeply disturbed. The heroine is not at fault...she does'nt even remember herself anymore.

I've spoken about Alzheimer's during classes and like all fans of research pontificated about finding a cure for it. But that has always been a thought..a memory...and to think I have nothing to protect me from losing the ability to recollect it one day sends a shudder down my spine.

Imagine not being able to find your way home, to remember people, names, numbers, happy moments, sad moments, fights, hurt, love, laughter, your dog, your favourite color - NOTHING plainly. Imagine the pain that someone who loves you would go through watching you at a loss.

Imagine waking up in the morning and not knowing where you are and who you are, losing your short term memory faster and your long term memory following close behind. Like the doctor in the movie said - a mental death before a physical one?

I watched the agony the girl went through as she struggles to comprehend what happens to her and her husband yearning for a miracle that could fish her out of her pain. Imagine the sorrow he goes through when he takes her to all the places they've been to and she remembers nothing? Imagine how it rips his heart when he reads a letter she writes when her memory is back for a while and she realizes what she is putting him through and leaves the house.

Watching the movie made me realise that the greatest gift we all have is the ability to remember. True it hurts when a memory brings nothing but tears but think about it..down the lane if you had the choice between a blackout with your mind and a pot pourri of emotions ranging from excruciatingly paniful to enormously happy what would you choose? Alas! Alzheimer's doesnt wait for you to decide.

Its one thing to lose loved ones to death...but its a whole other form of suffering to watch them run around with no clue about anything or anyone.

This was'nt the melodramatic love story where the hero wastes away with the memory of her or there is a 'miracle' that brings her back and they do a duet. NO. This was real. This is what happens to people with Alzheimer's. To men and women who've been loving parents, husbands, wifes, grandparents and now have no recollection of having been all that! There is no protein Kleenux that can de-clog circulation and restore life for those poor souls or answer the huge WHY in the minds of their near and dear ones.

Am no Nobel laureate and I'm not a social worker either talking about Alzheimer awareness. This is just what I was contemplating enough to feed my lachrymals. Love completes a person's life but it also suffers at the hands of biology. Like the hero says...you never know how creul life can get. I felt guilty for the times I had employed Alzheimer's in jest because there is nothing funny about it in reality.

A lot of diseases cause pain - cancer, AIDS you name it. A man can cry out loud from it because he understands what he is going through and remembers times he was better. But what can you do when you don't remember what you should be doing and what you should be screaming out loud for??

Am gifted with a wonderful life like many out in the world. And I've realized that I get to live, love, forgive and remember what I have while I do....

I sincerely hope science finds a way to conquer this disease. I would be glad to help if I can...for now, I pray for everyone to remain healthy, aware and happy...

P.S: This is a Korean movie titled "A Moment to Remember"

Image courtesy : http://lovehkfilm.com/panasia/moment_to_remember.htm

MiLaPaNeGa

2010-04-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

The title sounds funny does'nt it? Then imagine how it would sound if your toothpaste were to have that as a name. But 5 of us girls would buy every tube of paste if it were named that. Afterall it was something that earned us gangsta status in senior school :)

Well..well.. am talking about an Adzap competition that a bunch of us (mirna, gayatri, preethi, lavanya and I) won hands down at an inter-school cultural fest during our sophomore year at senior school. I still can't stop smiling when I think of that day.

We got together at the last moment..as a team and worked out a framework for the act..am still stunned at how I picked up toothpaste as an example to explain the rules to my girls and how we ended up having to sell exactly that to the crowd!!! Preethi and I almost scaled the ceiling jumping when we picked up the lot.

5 minutes is all we got to rise to fame and rise we did in absolute style...what with Gayatri doing a Nambiar act and a TR limerick thrown in...it was no surprise the whole school turned up to watch us in spite of the bell signalling the end of recess resounding in the distance. We had the audience laughing their heads off!

When the results were announced they just told us plainly that we won OBVIOUSLY! :) Hearing a crowd of people screaming out your name (the name of your school in this case) when the judges go ' any guesses for the 1st place' is something any performer would trade anything for. We were lucky enough to experience that!

We won the prize alright..but more than that I loved what I experienced that day - team work, friendship and pure talent that only the gifted possess..my girls showcased just that...flawlessly!

There was another thing that was ultimately special. We were the only team comprised entirely of girls and we raced up to number one over an all - guys team. The judges came up to talk to us and asked what had inspired us to give such a wonderful performance...I would remember our answer to eternity - "its generally thought that comedy is a man's forte. we wanted to prove women could do it equally well too" :)

Love u girls...and miss those wonderful days of stage play....the best times of my life!!! three cheers to MiLaPaNeGa

P.S - MiLaPaNeGa is an acronym for Mirnalini, Lavanya, Preethi, Nethra and Gayatri :)

Souped

2010-04-15T21:57:00.000-07:00

For almost everyday that i've been at Tanjore, i've been in soup. No not the philosophical 'mess' soup..but real hot spicy soup. There's a stall nearby where a really friendly lady makes it for us. For someone who was this ''eee-roadside food-bad water-salmonella-dysentry'' nutcase, I certainly drink soup by the liter these days.

Maybe because its the only thing that's easy on your pocket and worth every bit...or should I say spoon. And it comes with a perk. There's one flavour every day. It goes like this :

Monday - manathakali
Tuesday - thoodhuvalai
Wednesday - mudakkathan
Thursday - vallarai
Friday - poondu
Saturday - vaazhathandu
Sunday - mushroom

Okay am not using this chance to dish out the choicest of swears...those are names of herbs and spices that are added to the soup one per day. Its a fact though that the soups either look a beautiful green or a dull grey no matter what you presume to be added to it. I've mastered the art of reciting the menu so much that people actually call me up to verify if they got the day's soup right. Am known rightly as the soup-paithyam. Justified because when others demand Temptation bars, beers and multi cuisine treats for birthdays I plainly ask for soup!!!

Its a refreshing art...the art of drinking soup...after a realllllly tiring or dreadfully boring day in college getting back to a cup of hot steaming concotion that indulges ur taste buds and prepares you for the late night movie you are going to watch on your laptop...ahhhh bliss!

P.S 1: there are also 2 other daily flavours - the vegetable and mooligai (a mixture of medicinal herbs)

P.S 2: i told you the lady is pretty sweet so if you are in the mood for a mix go ahead...stir up all three flavours of the day :)

Kids!

2010-04-14T23:05:00.000-07:00

I had the chance to visit my native for 'tamizh puthandu' (tamil new year - hah! take that Caeser we have our own calendar B-)). It is a village called Varagur by the way..about 15 kms from Thiruvaiyar the birth place of Thyagarajar.

I met up with a bunch of kids (sighh..ok..am an adult) my very distant cousins. Two of them were 'graduating' from kindergarden and one was in the 5th grade. I was walking around the sanctum with one of the UKG graduates :P (who is a sweet bundle of cuteness and goes by the name of Anandavalli :)).

She told me she was very close to the temple and the deity and has been visiting 'right from when she was a kid'. Her tone was very serious and she implied that her tryst with the temple was THAT long! She wasnt sure I understood how important a member she was at the temple. So she said...'I've been visiting since my U...K...G...'. like UKG was smthg she did before getting a double post doc and the nobel :P.

I was terminally amused at what she was saying...rolling on the floor of my gut laughing at her innocence. But a part of me ( hey I agreed am an adult ) longed to be so carefree...so innocent and full of life. To ask questions that are very fair but to which no adult wld have replies...to sing at the top of my lungs and get lauded equivalent to ARR for my scream...sigh....kids!!! good times...good times!!! :)

Poked

2010-04-06T23:50:00.001-07:00

Ok...this is serious : there's something called 'poke' on FaceBook....a crude version of the old 'saami kanna kuthum' technique...except that you use an online network to deliver an electronic pokey illusion...I wanted to try it...it goes like this:

you click on someone's profile

there's the Poke X icon

you click on it

thats when you recieve the most threatening message you could ever have faced : You are about to poke X..he will be informed about this on his homepage

Things around me started to go into slow motion...my past flashed before my eyes...I felt like a warrior on the Indo-Kargil border about to make a decision that would change my life!

With a nervous trembling finger I hit poke

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

??
??
??

I thought something huge would happen with smileys and graphical images appearing all over my screen...my id getting blocked by my college server...and I was gearing up for the worst...

There was a prompt on my screen

You have successfully poked X

That's it??

Not even an OUCH???

I realized the obvious : AM SERIOUSLY JOBLESS AND ABSOLUTELY INSANE...

Whats the point of the whole poke idea?? vetti 1 telling vetti 2 that am vettier than you are at this instant???

Now I wonder : 1) why did a dozen friends torture me into joining FB a congested version of orkut??

2) why did I accept the invites?? :P

3) why am I a regular now??

Well my 'realization' pretty much answers question 3...coming to think of it now...one sweet cousin of mine put me up to it...for some reason long forgotten...scrabble I guess...(dont worry you still are one of my favourite cousins! :P)

P.S - 1: as with the step by step poke experience...if you can put up with something as @#@^%$# as poke, you wld infact call the instructions intellectual

P.S - 2: the finger image that appears for poke is distantly funny....

Sweardom

2010-03-15T23:48:00.001-07:00

There is nothing like doing something to perfection. Like laying a table for instance. Everything’s neatly arranged and the sheets are bleach clean. You start serving and that’s when you accidentally spill one drop of greasy gravy onto the spread. That pleasant ‘all is well’ piano bgm playing in your mind stops abruptly, your smile snaps off instantly and you go “Aww @#$%$#%^$^” You swear. And yes that’s the same thing you do when the milk goes sour, the dig bites a chunk off the paper, there’s graffiti on your car window, peak traffic, your boss is early, your pen refuses to ink on the night before an exam, you are happy dancing in your room and hit the bedpost hard and on and on…Life is cynical and it is true what you wish for happens. Why would someone want to hit the bedpost, you ask me. Exactly. No one does. But it does happen and your mind knows there’s a lapse of control and it snaps.

That little fact fuels your anger and you let out steam with a well-meant fully powered swear! This is a human being’s way of making it clear that he was in no way responsible for what happened and he’s as defeated and perplexed as you might be when taken unawares. In addition to the above stated obvious swearing also stems from frustration, impatience, boredom, defeat, irritation and any other unpleasant state of mind you can add to that list. This would explain your reaction to that imbecile who never gets anything you say, a computer prompt that gives an estimated 5 hours of download time for a movie you desperately want, the same prompt that shuts down after 99% download with an error message, when you wait for a long time to meet someone who isn’t going to turn up, a colleague who kisses up to the boss or a loud death metal song next door when you are trying to read.

Like it or not everyone swears. Some swears are international while some are personalized. Common swears you might hear are probably ‘shoot’, ’crap’, ’WTH’, ’WTF’, the F-word, the S-word, ’SOAB’, ’goddamn’ and a whole lotta combinations of these basics!

Man has sworn for eternity. He did in the past – from grunts to grrrrrrr in the caves, he does now – you can Google for every one of those swear words replete with dialect versions(!) and he will in the future – maybe something like ‘in the stinking name of superconductivity’ or ‘ son of radioactivity’ :P.

A phrase I read somewhere says anger is one letter short of danger. True both ways – whether you explode into an uncontrolled reaction at the source of your anger or if you are an amateur at meditation and try to hold it in. It would only come out stronger later. So maybe swearing for a moment to vent out isn’t bad after all… (It is better indeed to learn to dissipate your anger).

Did I just write an article about swearing??

The Green Water bottle

2010-03-15T23:47:00.000-07:00

After an hour of roaming in the streets a little after noon last week, I came home visibly tanned and perfectly cooked like a sausage in a microwave. My eyes were taking their own time to adjust out of the bright sunlight and I was sweating enough to supply the Cauvery delta with salt water. The cap I wore was steaming and the ceiling fans were on a vow of slow-motion. Summer is finally here and as much as I love it, it comes with its own non-negotiable perks. The constant thirst for instance.

As I sat fanning myself with a newspaper my mother brought me a lifeline – the green water bottle. No, that’s not the name of a Booker. That’s what I like to call the watermelon. God must’ve been one heck of a thirsty Guy when he created the melon. Men owe Him a big thank you for this fruit that springs up when Mr. Sun decides to hand out rays of early summer.

With a thick shell to block out the hard sun, the melon packs a burst of water within its red confines. So much that the water can’t wait till you take a bite…half of it is already out by the time you cut open the big guy. If you are in a big hurry to quench your heat like I was the other day you wouldn’t mind digging into a huge piece allowing the red chunks to melt in your mouth, run down your throat, until steam billows from your ears and your body cools down leaving a bunch of seeds in your mouth, your nose and chin wet from the bite.

If you are the melon crazy type like I am at other times, then you would sit with your mother as she carefully slices open the green guy and cuts away the red portions de-seeds them and drops them into a bowl….or at least intends to but that piece has long made its way into your tummy and a while later poor Dad has only two pieces left for him (grabbed artfully from you by Mom before you gobbled it up)!!

If you are the I’m-lazy-to-chew type then you would love a melon squash with a dash of mint and a few drops of lemon and if you are a toddler the green shell would make a nice crown to play with! This wonder fruit and his brothers (the musk melon packs a mini-ocean inside) are one of the reasons why summer is fun! A cheap, healthy and natural way to beat the heat. Now, when I venture into the heat knowing there’s a green water bottle back home…I would dare say “bring it on!!!” Happy summer! :)

Movers and Shakers

2010-02-25T02:31:00.000-08:00

A couple of years back whenever I was on the highway I used to look at these huge buses (Air buses as they are called) driving past and there would be two thoughts on my mind - 1) who would want to travel for hours in a claustrophobic bus? 2) wow! They look majestic..with nice seats..wish I could go on a ride sometime. Yes. Conflicting thoughts. My wish came true however with me moving to Tanjore. That means quite a number of trips by bus to home and back.

Now, I was thrilled the 1^st time I traveled by an Air bus. Excitement clouded my judgement and I loved the ride. Then comes the 2nd trip and you start to notice reality. Air buses are of two types. Private owned and Govt buses. But they share a dozen commons.

Trips are mostly scheduled for the night and if you are not an expert at infant-sleeping like I am you’d have a strenuous ride.

Rule no: 1 – try getting a window seat. That way you get good air (sometimes could blow your head off) and you get to anchor your head onto the window so you wouldn’t slide down the seat. Which brings us to

Rule no : 2 – all buses by default have seats shaped into an angle that appears no where in geometry with the sole purpose of making sure you come sliding down your seat 10 secs after you have hoisted yourself up! (the ‘ol Tom and Jerry trick).

Rule no : 3 – never expect peace at night. There will most definitely be some movie playing all night, especially the loud ones that educate you on villainism (‘How to be a villain for dummies’). The driver and the conductor will be locked out at the front and listening to the 80’s classics but no, YOU have to endure the ultrasonics.

Rule no : 4 – if you are a germ freak stop being one immediately. All night-riders pull up for pit stops where the rest rooms or rest-whatever-structure that is will make you wish you could go blind, deaf and insensitive to smell all at once. But you have an 8-hour drive in the night and you are not exactly a Yogi to control your impulses. That’s the only time I wish I were a guy!

Rule no : 5 – most bus drivers are wannabe pilots and since they’ve been denied a stick they try to make do with the bucket of bolts you are traveling in. If you are blessed with the kind of roads I get to travel through sometimes, you might even have the privilege to get your femur interchanged with your neck bones or your vertebra in pieces!

Then there are the usuals. You are a goner if your neighbor is any of these - talkative, religious, fat, smelly, flirtatious, tossy in sleep or has a high decibel snore. I’ve had friends tell me they sometimes get bitten by bed-mites! Mosquitos are denizens of any bus and I’ve never been this fond of repellent-creams before.

These aside I love everytime I travel by bus. Am nocturnal and the night amazes me. The wind in my face, my favourite song in my i-Pod, a bar of chocolate in hand, thinking about everything I wanted to simply because I have time at hand and most of all the fact that am going home – Ah! Bliss.

P.S: don’t ask me about when I come back…

Image courtesy : http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?t=907864&page=54

Make a wish

2010-02-25T01:15:00.001-08:00

I was standing at my window talking to the stars (Yes. The night sky is my best friend and I talk to stars). Suddenly there fell this bright one from the sky…rather across the sky – one that is known as a shooting star! Now, this fellow is supposed to be rare to appear or at least rare to spot unless you have quick reflexes. So legend associates magic with him and the simplest form of it is that when you spot a shooting star you are granted a wish.

That’s phenomenal considering how much and how many things each of us wish we had everyday. From time to money, clothes to princes our lists keep running long enough to make a toilet paper roll the size of earth! Given that it should’ve been easy to make a wish with my star-wild card. These wish things are tricky. Making a wish is like practicing law. You can never cover all the loopholes. So there’s no asking for a 100 wishes and recharging your wish account at the 99^th wish! All you get is one wish and choosing wisely is up to you.

Frankly I was stumped! For a person like me who actually maintains a wish list it should’ve been taken a blink of the eye to come up with one but I was just puzzled trying to prioritize what I wanted the most. A powerful wish deserved to be special and obviously targeted at something hard to get. But at that instant the hardest thing I could think of was getting my lab work attested by a strict prof before the deadline and I felt it wasn’t worth a star’s grant!

The seconds passed by and I could'nt pick on one thing I wanted to wish for. ‘a pretty dress’? – I’d have to wish for that with my Dad, not a star. ‘world peace’? - ya right. Am not Miss Universe. ‘a week’s holiday’? – special classes later? No thanks. I still hadn’t decided what I wanted Mr. Star to give me and I could actually see him up there giggling at my plight and holding up a sandglass to indicate my wish-time was slipping away.

I hit upon one thing I wanted finally! It was pretty complicated and it took me 5 minutes to get it out right but a wish is a wish. As Mr. Star tumbled away a 101 things came to my mind neatly organized by priority in MS excel format color coded based on degree of desperateness! So much for an above average IQ. A guitar, GATE qualification, An i-Pod – how difficult is it to remember these basic short term wishes? Well no luck trying to get Starry to come back. He’s probably laughing at someone else’s confusion somewhere else. Never mind. There are millions more up there waiting to fall.

What did I wish for? Nah! Can’t tell you. Not supposed to until it comes true… :)

Image courtesy : http://crimsoncorvus.wordpress.com/tag/rhyme/

Like a movie

2010-02-23T20:27:00.000-08:00

One of my professors was once pretty annoyed. The reason being, we couldn’t recall a dozen facts taught to us in the previous class. And to prove to us our incompatibility the professor chose the age old analogy – “ when you can remember a movie sequence after a single viewing why cant you remember academics?”. The answer is quite simple. Our brains are saturated or should I blatantly go ahead and say – bored.

It’s a scientific fact that the brain can take in things and understand continuously for upto about 30 minutes. After that irrespective of how good or bad the class is it all goes over the head.

A movie stays in better memory for a while because it simple has everything that the brains loves to remember – moving objects, colour and sound. Plus you don’t have to mug the details of the movie to be able to write an essay answer for 15marks later. Try doing that. Watch a movie, better still, one that you know you would like and try writing down every single scene you watched. You’d at the most get a dozen sequences right. And those would be the ones that made a great impact upon you. Probably some PJ, a good shot, a stylish roof top fight, a catchy tune or a signature dance move or dialogue! Think about the movie after two days and you would’ve forgotten most of it!

I wrote movie reviews for a friend’s website and I had to take notes for doing it lest I forgot what I saw(absence of a photographic memory is one of the reasons people like to keep copies of movies to watch over again :) )

Monotony is what would best explain why students find it real hard to focus and remember what’s being taught. Add to it the pressure of having to perform in exams. The brain hates being told what to do. If you want to make it work you have to get it interested. The same works good for a movie too. Try watching a dozen movies of the same genre back to back. You’d want to run after a couple. Your mind automatically shuts down.

Feeding your brain is like feeding your tummy. You feed your stomach with too much carbs it takes up rapidly at first, then slows down and faithfully makes you a slob and you go hunting for XL sized clothes! You feed your brain with text, formulae and concepts all day, by the time the bell goes the 1.5kg weight in your head is snoring. The trick to stay slim is to eat but eat small quantities of food number of times a day. And that works with the brain too. Try jamming half hour sessions of stuff you have to learn. Put it together in colorful notes, post- its, pneumonics and anything else that’s fun you can get your sleepyhead up and about! Alas! With an alarming volume of textbooks, references, papers, assignments, projects, records and other blah-blah to complete and a hundred exams to take whoever would listen to you when you say ‘make learning fun’!

Another obvious difference between watching a movie and attending class is you don’t go to the movies everyday but you have to maintain minimum attendance. Sighhh….

Kindergarten classrooms are all colorful. Why do you think they are? Kids are taught with rhymes, songs, cards, blocks, show & tell etc., Somewhere down the lane there’s too much to learn and too little time before you have to start preparing for entrance exams and the same lovely kids are taught and expected to mug. Doing that all your life and being evaluated for it does make it hard when you are asked to remember the basics now during a PG. All I remember is the alphabet that I learned from a colorful book with huge font!

Am not quite sure whom to blame. The system? The students? Their parents? The society? The pressure to be the best? What’s the point anyway when even after graduation most of us don’t know what we should be doing?!

If classrooms are fun learning would automatically be fun. I still remember pictures from lectures done in PowerPoint. I remember what a couple of jovial professors taught me way back, I remember stuff that I learnt out of interest…the brain remembers what it likes rather , what you can make it like.

The conclusion remains that it’s definitely not even a long shot at comparison between a movie and listening to a lecture. Same brain, same logic, prevalent facts. You just got to make things more endearing. If I were to become a teacher someday I would just like to get a class full of brains hyper interested…like a good movie would!

Warm and cozy

2010-02-18T22:01:00.000-08:00

My uncle built a new house recently and threw a customary and sweet housewarming party. A day of wholesome joy, long-time-no-see-meets and a religious start to building a home was what it turned out to be. A long and hectic month of planning and organizing preceded the success of that day and the whole family pitched in to help. Now being the nephew (ahem!) I had my own huge share of the responsibility cake to handle and my batteries were fully charged for it.

We were headlong into the proceedings even before the sun had hit his 1^st snooze and the mother-calf duo worshipped as sacred were taken around and inside the house to invoke the Gods of prosperity. The little fellow spared us some brooming as he gobbled up every single flower around him..early breakfast I guess!

With the heat from the homam rising, one by one relatives and friends stared to arrive. Hospitality was one of the things on my plate and soon I had to set my heels to full-spin as I went about receiving people and making sure they were attended to. Now that might sound demanding but with the fact that I hadn’t caught a glimpse of most of them for years (that would explain the ‘you were this tiny when I last saw you’ comments) I was thrilled to the point of jumping up and down to be doing it.

Families are huge but Indian families in addition are unique. There are cool uncles, trendy aunts, Dumbledorish grandparents, at least a dozen cousins and a dozen more noisy Dennises! In all they create this heavy atmosphere of love and togetherness like a huge pulsating heart. Add to it an artery of 1^st name friends who’ve been with you for so long that they are a part of the family picture.

Watching my people, feeling the good vibes and listening to the laughter and chatter, made me feel gifted – to be part of it all. The food was exemplary and added a classic finishing touch.

With an exhausting day behind us I could feel the love, happiness, optimism and good energy resonating in every corner long after everyone had left. I realized that the house was en route becoming a home. If this is for a private gathering at home, no wonder the world looks up in awe at the big fat Indian weddings!!

Its in the papers!

2010-02-04T21:44:00.000-08:00

It’s a lazy morning. As usual you want to strangle the shrill alarm but you have to go to college and its time to wake up. You sit up in bed and check out your mobile’s inbox sleepily. There’s a good morning you scroll through and the next message makes you scream and jump up in delight and your roomie hits you on the head thinking that you are the alarm! What wakes you up? A message from a friend congratulating you for that write up of yours that has made it to print…an extra pitch to your scream – you won a prize for it too! And there begins your special day of glory. There’s probably only one thing that can match the endless joy that writing brings with it – seeing it in print. You know your article by heart but you still read it a hundred times and somehow it looks better when published!

You message every single contact on your list about it and one by one they start responding. From “good one” to “I’ve no idea how you cook up something so brilliant” you get all sorts of comments. The ones that turn the thrill up a notch are those good-hearted, sharp-eyed friends who have read it even before you told them. You try to do normal stuff like wash up and get ready but there comes this bunch of calls – from Mom who’s proud of you like never before, from Dad who’s not surprised you made it because you are “his kid”, Grandparents and uncles blessing you for more such feathers to your creative cap and from a couple of cousins and friends demanding a treat to celebrate!

You manage to make it to college floating on cloud 9 to be met with your friends there and the niceties continue. All day long your mobile keeps beeping and the keys spelling thank you are over worked!

A few review your work, a few compare and contrast it with earlier ones you’ve written and few even quote from it!!! Friends tell you that a friend of their cousin’s friend like your work!

By the time you get back home you are feeling like someone handed you the Booker! Your look sweeps the room and you find them - a pen and a paper. Those two that made all this possible. A familiar sense of satisfaction flows through you because you’ve decided to do the obvious : Write about the experience. You sit down at your desk and forge the usual and powerful connection between your mind, heart and the pen…a few pages filled, you pick up your article to read it for the nth time before you go to bed, a huge smile and a heavy sigh conveying wordlessly how thankful you are to be in love…with an art called writing!

Calling....

2009-11-19T23:02:00.000-08:00

I am sitting in a corner of my hostel room. There goes the 1^st ring. A shrill tone of ♫♪ Siragugal Vandhadhu ♫♪ echoes in the corridor. Occupant A next door. She attends the call and starts the now famous walk-while-you-talk (thanks to Abhishek Bachan…what an idea Sirji!). Then comes a crude mumbo jumbo remix of the Airtel tune and occupant B steps out to walk on the other half of the narrow corridor. She has left the door open and her roommate, Occupant C is already on a call. This one is probably a fan of MJ because she is doing an almost-moonwalk inside the room…or maybe its just that the room is so small and she is pacing frantically that it seems like gliding! Span left and there is Occupant D running in circles around a bag of snacks lying on the floor, an N73 pressed to her ear.

Occupant E has joined the traffic on my side of the corridor and throws me a smile before she continues to scream into her phone “naa dhaa appave sonnenla” (“I told you that already”). More occupants and many more ringtones blaring out to them. This is an every night routine. It’s a clear proof that the world is small and connected. Very well. Its fun watching these people. They walk, strut, run, jog and even jump over piles of footwear along the corridor, so intent on their conversations, avoiding banging into people by sheer instinct! I said its fun observing because these people are diverse – in language, slang, emotions and magnanimity with words.

Proceeding along the corridor, I can gauge the gist of the talk just by looking at the faces – an open smile: ‘1 more week mom, I’ll be home’! A sly smile – ‘hah! I found out about your BF’! Blushes – ‘heyyyy! Am I that beautiful?’ Contorted sad face – ‘why should you end it? Give me one reason’! (poor thing...lost love) Furious – ‘that git! And they call him a lecturer’! There are many more I could make a dictionary of. You’ll find these people everywhere when it is phone time – leaning on the door, ferreting in the corridor, exercising in their rooms, staring out the window, in a silent spot of the darkest corner of the staircase (shhh…romancing…DND),sitting on the stairs (sometimes like a Golu display, one on each stair) and I know of one who even sat on top of a Western loo closet sick of not getting privacy!

These souls talk to a variety of people –mom, dad, brother, sister, cousin, friend, fiancé, ex-s, lover, customer care(!), talk about an enormous range of topics (my one page vow stops me from listing out) and in a wide range of languages! Sound waves move from “Solluda” to “yep…that’s right” to “nyan paranyittillo ahdi” to “pichakara dog e” (kids don’t read this –unclassified vernacular :P) to “@##$%^$%$#!#^$^%I&^*&” (er…that was high speed Telugu and Kannada. I lack de-encrypting grey cells! ) to “acha..baad meh baath kartha hoon” ( “talk to you later”. Wont hang up in less than a solid hour after this!) .

The decibel level would start with a beep and a ring, proceed to a babble of voices, to an unintelligible chaos, to perfect ‘all hell breaks loose’ and go down in steps as one by one they disconnect, stop talking, stop walking (and running and jumping and exercising) and retire to their rooms…content with sharing what they wanted to. After all that’s what sets us humans apart as social animals isn’t it? We talk. We love to! Oh and by the way, those isolated occupants in the dark corners…shhh still talking). I’m done writing. Got to study and then…♫♪Yeh ishq hai..baite bitaae♫♪ oh! That’s my mobile ringing…excuse me . “Hello! Ya ya..tell me…”

Hostel sweet Home!

2009-11-13T20:30:00.000-08:00

This one also made it to The Hindu, Nxg, Jan 21, 2010 :)

The best thing that has happened to me in quite some time is my admission to SASTRA, Tanjore for a PG. That means am staying away from home now…at a hostel...all by myself! :)

Many friends of mine told me hostel life was too good to miss. Instinctively I’ve known all along they were right and I’ve always wanted to stay alone too! Maybe because I had fantasized too much about this life I was thrilled to the point of screaming silently on the terrace in joy! To someone who doesn’t know me this might seem sadistic – me wanting to be away from home. But folks no…I have a very loving family behind me. Sweet and cool parents and a cozy home. Then why, you ask, would I be insane to leave it behind for a while? Because I’ve never been away from it. Never been on my own. I’ve always had mom pampering my taste buds and dad trying to instill discipline in me for the simplest of things. Proximity to the source of advise is inversely proportional to its execution! :P so a slob I was. But I always knew I wanted to fly away from my nest for a while and feel the thrill of living independently ( well its not quite that now…dad still finances me). I’ve wanted to prove to my folks that I could be the discipline daughter they’ve wanted me to be. And am doing all that right now! :)

Its been three months since I moved out and life here is bliss! How , you ask. Because I have a hundred and one things I have to take care of for myself by myself apart from college work. But the food? Thank Heavens am not fuzzy about food and honestly at my hostel its definitely above average so for me its wow! Home sickness? Surprisingly I haven’t shed a single tear all these days B-). Friends? Everyone here is one. Am known to be a chatterbox so the credit to a dozen new nicknames around here goes to me :). I eat healthy! (too lazy for fruits at home. Routine here) I monitor my cash (my parents are both into accounts management ) my room is spic and span always (half the credit goes to my sweet roomie) and my laundry bag never comes under stress (back home it was ripping at the seams often!). On the whole my life has taken a change for the better and I feel in control. Am responsible for myself here and there is no feeling to match that sense of satisfaction. I love it.

We get delicious soup at a stall here, there is a tiny supermarket enough to find the occasional junk food and our college canteen rocks! Am living every moment here to the fullest! These will definitely be some of the best days of my life and they came in at the right time to ease out some rough spots I faced a while back.

I dress better these days :) ,watch movies on my laptop(don’t tell my mom :P) and even find time for craft. The only downside maybe? A lot of ants! But we found ways to keep them off. Now that I know what its like to be away from home, happy as it may be, I want to get back one day…and when its time to go I will get to appreciate Home sweet Home better than ever. But for now hostel life rocks! :)

http://www.go-nxg.com/?p=6853

Why are my articles so lengthy?!

2009-11-13T20:26:00.000-08:00

This one made it to The Hindu, Nxg - 6th January :) yay!

http://www.go-nxg.com/?p=9418

When I was in high school there was an essay competition to choose a student representative for carrying the Olympic torch as it passed through India. The moment my dad told me about it, I started writing. I wrote 6 sides and still was a good 4 pages away from completion! That’s when my dad mentioned the basic condition – it had to be 300 words! And I had half a novel ready! My torch was extinguished as I realized I had a huge problem – I can’t write short and concise articles! My material for that essay was good. Definitely different from what the winner had written (short of course!) but had exceeded the limit by just a million words. I have close to 30 articles and poems that I’ve written. None of them in a dearth for words!

I wonder if its some kind of electrostatic attraction between my pen and my brain because when am in the groove it goes at top speed like a seismograph sensing a powerful earthquake! I don’t write articles everyday inspite of having a lot of things to write about (that explains why my diary is swollen to 10 times its size with just hints I jot down daily!!!) but when I do feel a work coming on it’s a few minutes of rapid and serious writing and bingo I’ve exhausted a bunch of papers! I’ve always felt my mind and heart working as one when I write. Like they seem to know what exactly wants to be put into words. That’s hard to control. I’m a person who gives heart and soul to anything I do and writing definitely tops my list.

People who read my works tell me they are good but my mom always points out with a sigh that they are obviously too lengthy to be read by anyone without forcing them into it! Pras would agree vehemently…every time I mail him an article he has a lot of tweaking to do with the font size to make sure it doesn’t run off the page! My blog suffers the same plight.

I love expressing myself and thanks to that they always turn out to be magnanimous. That’s my style of writing – replete with sarcasm, humour, confusion, anger and what not. I reasoned with myself that all those things needed pages to explain (couldn’t convince myself to write short) but then I found one guy who did exactly that and still kept his articles to half a page! Sudhish Kamat and his movie reviews in The Hindu! Each one is a treat for anyone with good humour! That’s when I started thinking if someone else could do it, I could do it too! And I started reading blogs belonging to my friends. It turned out that ‘someone’ was ‘everyone’ apart from me! It was around that time our own Pras woke up from his intellectual slumber and started filling IK with his own write-ups (sick of running behind us – the others who promised to contribute!). They were brilliant! Short and sweet, they were a perfect expression of emotions spot on. I realized that was the secret. To write, write and write...whenever you feel like it. That way what you want to say comes out at the right time and you don’t have to wait for it to accumulate sufficiently and end up writing XL sized articles! One tiny reflection at a time brings about the same reaction and increases your article database too. Pras I know your secret har har! So that’s it. I’ve decided to try and write concise stuff. This should be a start :)

This doesn’t mean the lengthy ones won’t happen but I’ll reserve them for once-in-a-while. Wish me luck guys! :)

P.S: this one didn’t go over a page! Yay me! B-)

Silence

2009-11-13T20:17:00.000-08:00

Amongst the one too many gifts that life has bestowed upon man there is one that doubles up as a tool to find answers to the million questions swirling around in his head. Ironically this gift that I ‘talk’ about has the ultimate power of keeping the vocal chords on a leash. It is silence!

Seldom used, many wise men consider the gift of silence as an art which is perhaps why they call it ‘practicing silence’. Contrary to the popular belief, silence is not the treasure only of saints and monks. Almost every single English adaptation of a Chinese or Japanese warrior genre movie would have a minimum of two characters that are silent and hence powerful and graceful, in stark contrast to a blabbermouth who would most probably be the hero and goes ‘Whoa! Dude you are cool’! When the fighter slashes up a dozen bamboo sticks midair!

Does silence really give a person so much control? That would be a vehement yes! Spiritual language uses a liberal dose of terms to define the effects of the silence-habit, right from channelizing your chi vibrations to as much as transcending your soul and attaining salvation! But since am yet to sell my Ferrari and become a monk, I thought I’d just pen down my interpretation of silence to the extent that my death-metal repellent brain could fathom!

To the layman silence would simply mean the absence of sound but truly Webster goes only that far. Silence is a whole new world! A wonderful and completely different experience. Silence is when you choose to stop adding your part to the milieu and start to listen to other sounds around you and counts like a form of respect shown to them. It is in itself a new genre of music!

Men and women keep up talk most of the time because of the inherent fear that silence brings with it. Talking gives a sense of fitting-in and lets a person realize they are alive and well…but true living is from the inside and the true sign of living is listening to the sound that the heart makes against the ribs rising above the chaos in the outside world. Silence is a secret understanding with all forms of life…a channel of communication and with focus can be put to creating harmony.

To put it simply it’s such a great relief to shut up for a while and take notice of all the crap that you sometimes deliver. When you take stock of that you’ll be amazed to know how much energy you can conserve!

Hatsumomo in Memoirs of a Geisha says “sometimes the best reply is silence”. How very true! Millions of students around the world would agree with me unanimously when I say its better to remain silent for a few minutes rather than walking the plank giving the wrong answer to a prof’s question in front of the nerds! :P . Maybe it was a wise student who said “silence is golden” and with today’s market rates, that amounts to a fortune!

Silence gives you a sense of calm and the power of observation. Bird lovers need to stay silent if they love to watch a flock…a group of cool dudes remain so for the time they can hold their wisecracks in front of a girl!

Silence gives you interpretations…like they say ‘calm before a storm’. The unspoken word is what differentiates wisdom from stupidity. I read somewhere that words are like toothpaste – something that you can’t put back into the tube once taken out. Silence is a form of beauty. It’s a style statement. It lends mystery to a person’s character and intrigues others to no bounds. No wonder heroes of the kind that pops a silent cigar and goes ‘uh huh’ are more interesting than the kind that drives you up the wall with a half page dialogue for a Hi!

I sometimes go on a silent spree…friends of mine would snigger at that statement because am a paler version of Geeth (of Jab we Met fame) but they know it’s true. And when am at it I usually end up talking a lot on the inside holding debates with my heart and mind trying to find answers to many accumulated ‘Why’s. Through that silence I find it easy to love, reason and forgive. It’s when I spend quality time with myself so that every time I talk after that I could try and make more sense.

In all the half hour I took to writing this article, I listened to the soft hum of the fan overhead, the babble of kids on the street, the gentle breeze romancing with the mango tree next door, couple of biker dudes riding their tyres flat, a distant horn, a yelping puppy, and a lot more subtle sounds. I spoke not a single word because I was busy listening…and for once I realized there are other sounds apart from my own…sounds that need appreciation…the language of silence helped me do just that. Life comes with bgm after all…you just got to sync yours with it! Cheers! :)

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

2009-07-24T01:52:00.000-07:00

Two years of a faithful wait for the movie made me as happy as Harry was on his 1^st visit to Hogsmeade when I took delivery of the tickets to watch Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince at a multiplex with one of my close friends…also an ardent Potter series fan! Right from the 3^rd movie the scriptwriters had taught us fans to get used to them twisting the original tale and doing away with parts of the story that we considered significant…but inspite of the warning David Yates’ HP 6 left me broken hearted as I found yet again that this was a director who made a story of his own…my rant about the movie goes thus :

For all ye Muggles who think ‘its jus a movie’ :

Harry Potter is a teen wizard (yes he can do magic n stuff) who has returned to his school with best friends Ron and Hermione for his 6^th year. His headmaster Dumbledore takes him through preparations to face and ultimately destroy the baddie Voldermort who in the past killed Harry’s parents. It’s a story of revenge that has a good dose of friendship and in the case of this movie a lotta adolescent love. The visual effects are mindblowing and the movie boasts of a cast comprising some of Britain’s most talented actors.

For all ye who live through the pages of JKR’s classic series:

At 1^st glance this movie had an awesome trailer. It was dark as expected and came with great sound and visuals. In person the only thing that lived up to the trailer was the CG work. Anyone would give it a 20 on a scale of 10! That’s how terrific it was. The grounds of Hogwarts, the cave in the midst of the ocean, the Inferi…the breathtaking collapse of the Brockdale bridge! Tim Burke and Tim Alexander deserve the “awwww” that those scenes get! Kudos! The overall music also was good.

Coming to the story…well logically the movie should’ve been based on JKR’s work but seems Mr. Yates took liberty to change quite a lot about it. Trouble is those parts left out took the soul of the movie with them. Let me elaborate:

~ The 6^th book takes a major reality check as this is where the magical world extends to the Muggle world – the Muggle minister is warned of Voldermort’s rampage and Dementors are creeping out normal people too…Yates is content with just showing the faces of a dozen Muggles when Brockdale comes crashing down…nothing is spoken about it later anywhere!

~ Narcissa and Bellatrix head to Snape’s and during the conversation that ensues Bellatrix ends up making the Unbreakable Vow! Any one who has read the book would know it is Cissy who has to make it coz she is the one requesting it and Bella is only a bonder. Also in the book Cissy goes to Snape to plead with him to save her son…a mother’s plight that her son is being revenged for his father’s mistake. In the movie Helen McCrory as Narcissa merely enjoys a glass of wine makes the vow n leaves like its an everyday job! The beauty of a mother’s love for her son even when she is a Death Eater seems totally lost on Yates!

~ Everyone is aboard the Hogwarts express and Harry wants to spy on Malfoy. Harry uses instant darkness powder to distract them all so he could get onto the luggage rack. Nothing like that happens in the book! Yates made it that way so as to avoid the Slughorn party on the train! Ok…minor change forgiven. But what happens next had us all stumped! Malfoy jinxes Harry out cold covers him up with the invisibility cloak and Luna finds him through her Spectrespecs coz as she claims there were Wrackspurts all over him! The book had a more non-insane way of finding Harry! Tonks does it! How much more simple can it get and what was the point of changing it?

~ Jim Broadbent was a new addition to the already talented cast. But sadly all that he got to do in the 2^nd part mostly was stare stupidly and go ‘eh’?! Slughorn’s character could’ve done with a lot more polishing!

~ The worst betrayal ever according to me came in the form of Michael Gambon as Dumbledore in movie 3. And that punishment continues! To those eyes that had the privilege of watching Richard Harris as the greatest and most respected wizard of all times, Gambon is a mismatch. No offence to the talented actor but he simple doesn’t fit into the scheme. I felt it then but alas am not in charge of casting! For playing DD Gambon is short, doesn’t have crystal blue eyes that seem to x-ray you when he looks at you, talks a lot(!) has zero humor, jumps about from place to place like he is a 6-yr old (DD is close to 150 yrs old)has just a few locks of hair and oddly has some kinda band tied to his beard! I regret Harris’s death every time I watch Gambon on screen. If only he could’ve held on till the series was done! If I had a time turner I’d bring Harris back! Gambon just doesn’t fit the bill. Guess we should blame his granddaughter for it coz it was she who told him that she would stop talking to him if he refused the role! Kids!

~ Another sentimental fact that Yates seemed to have ignored is that DD wears half moon specs! Gambon is seen sporting it only in a few scenes (even in movie 5) …add that to the list of ‘how un-Dumbledory’ he is. He is hunting down Horcruxes with Harry and maybe took it off for the ride…you suggest? Well…just take a look at the cover picture of the 6^th book and you’ll know that even when there is a ring of fire encircling him and Harry DD still has a gleaming pair of half moons on his crooked nose!!!

~ The climax fight between the teachers and Death Eaters seemed to have jumped right out of Yates’ mind! I read in Wikipedia that it was removed to avoid monotony in the next movie! That fight forms a crux of this film and would’ve brought put amazing performances from the likes of Maggie Smith and moreoever the 6^th book was as much of the action genre as it was magical and a duel would’ve only made it more grand. Us fans could’ve been lucky to witness more of the brilliant CG!

~ There is no funeral for DD!! Again Wikipedia quotes the makers’ reply that they took it off coz it had no connection with the rest of the movie! My comment to that would be that none of the crew members have understood anything about what people feel towards DD! We don’t love him for no reason Mr. Yates and the least you could’ve done was give him a decent sendoff! The best and most cynical irony here is that the producers took so many pains to make a gigantic dead spider…jus for 3 characters to watch it as it lay dead on its hinds for a quarter of a minute in the movie! It would’ve cost less to have made a white tomb and a dozen people laying flowers over it…but no Mr. Yates is the man! He opts to give DD a mobile phone-torch send off like fans do in a music concert! Everyone holds their wands alight for a while!

~ I saved up my take on the supposed romance in the movie for last coz I have jus 2 words for it “outright stupid” ! There was absolutely no necessity to show Lavender and Ron kissing every instant. It didn’t matter even in the book. Everyone new Hermione would end up with Ron anyway! Mike Newell handled it way far better and more subtle yet powerful in the 4^th movie…

~ Bonnie Wright would probably be wondering what the heck she was doing in that movie! Coz there was absolutely no justice done to Ginny! One moment she is kissing Dean and the next she is dropping hints to Harry that she loves him and lo and behold she is kissing him next! Sheer stupidity! Not a single soul…and by that I mean Yates, Radcliffe and Wright seems to know what exactly is going on between Harry and Ginny and what they are supposed to show!

~ The Burrow getting burnt - sequence doesn’t appear in the book at all! It was absolutely unnecessary and made no point at all. And there was not the slightest mention about it anywhere else in the movie!!! That is Yates’ biggest problem! He just leaves sequences unfinished and to the imagination! Thankfully JKR is deprived of that talent! She always ties loose ends together in her books!

~ Adding a couple of nonchalant errors – in the movie Snape tells Harry the truth only in the end (that he is the HBP) but in the book logically Snape suspects Harry has his book when he performs Sectumsempra on Malfoy! That also appeared in the movie but Yates left Snape ignoring the person behind the curse! It jus shows how lagging the script is. No one seemed to take care to make sure the sequence has a flow and made sense! Sloppy work!

~ There were 3 insanely stupid scenes : One in the opening where Harry checks out this waitress at a café and along with DD stares at a picture of a model on a huge banner at the station…I sincerely think Mr. Yates could’ve put his film reel to better use like enacting a funeral for DD instead of inserting such totally pointless and irritating scenes. By the way that was the excuse to leave the Dursleys out of the movie! Two where Ginny ties Harry’s shoe laces! Almost every one in the theatre went WT* coz that’s how idiotic it was! It was like watching a ‘60s Tamil movie! And isn’t it obvious to anyone who reads the book that Ginny is more level headed than that! Three when Ron is in the hospital and Lavendar Brown comes rushing in and pours out her jealousy over Won-Won in front of DD, Snape, Slughorn, Harry, Ginny and Hermione! The staff just watch on as she rants about her love! For the love of God Mr. Yates please get out of your Imperius curse! Someone is making you humiliate yourself! And coming to think of it I guess even Steve Kloves (scriptwriter) had his memory modified! Coz in no other way could someone who wrote a crisp script for the 1^st two movies come up with the rest! There were changes in those two movies too...but they did not destroy the main line or turn out to be stupid….good times!

~ There was absolutely no mention about Bill and Fluer! And nothing was said about the romance between Tonks and Lupin! Yates was determined to do away with anything that would make a fan happy I think!

Phew! Now that am done with the brickbats I do have some bouquets to handover…

~ Yates managed to insert a good amount of Quidditch into the movie! Thank u just for that…

~ The best always remain the best - Robbie Coltrane as Rubeus Hagrid, Mark Williams and Julie Walters as Arthur and Molly Weasley respectively, Alan Rickman as Severus Snape, David Thewlis as Lupin and Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix Lestrange remind us yet again what true talent is and why we are all in love with the world of Harry potter! I bow down to each of them! Their performances can never be matched!

~ I’ve never been a fan of Daniel Radcliffe. He was cute enough for HP-1 n 2 but I still feel someone else could’ve done a better job at Harry. Yet it seemed to me that Daniel did put up a good show in quite a few scenes!

~ Emma Watson was a universal favourite and she lived Hermione to the hilt till maybe the 4^th movie…the 5^th saw her losing a bit of interest in the franchise…and to me she’s lost most of it in this movie….she still is brilliant in a few sequences but that cute little curly haired nerdy angel seems to have taken a long vacation! This is why some kids should never grow up!

~ Rupert Grint does a decent job…like Ron he seems to have a gift for growing considerably with every passing day!

~ Dave Legeno appears as Fenrir Greyback and with excellent make up fits the character to a T! He is tall and muscular and every bit savage...not surprising given he was a bouncer before he took up acting!

~ The only actor who has my heartfelt appreciation this time is Tom Felton for his perfect portrayal of Draco Malfoy. I had judged Felton as ordinary in the 1^st couple of movies were he was jus a prop when Radcliff ran away with all the good scenes but seems like Felton got his pay off in this movie. His expressions were brilliant towards the climax when he faces DD and is stuck between having to kill his headmaster or getting killed by the Dark Lord for failing in his mission! Tom great job! Keep it up!

~ Like I already said the music and sound in the movie were good though I felt a lot of bangs were unnecessarily loud!

On the whole…it was nothing like the heaven of magic that the 1^st two movies created…but still we got to see a couple of characters we love on screen…and with the special effects it wasn’t hard to sit through the movie. But the magic was missing...ironically yes...there were wands, broomsticks, spells, hexes, jinxes and even a singing phoenix but the magic of the entire concept was missing! And the fact that the 7^th movie lies in the hands of David Yates only makes me wish that I make myself ready to face a similar experience yet again next year!

On a scale of 5 I would rate it a 3 ‘just’ for the CG and Felton’s act!

this review also appears here : http://inversekarma.in/movies/reviews/harry-potter-and-the-half-blood-prince-2009-review

Mills and Bane???

2009-05-25T02:15:00.000-07:00

I created a record of sorts last month. I listened to a whopping number of my friends narrate stories of their love. Some of the lucky ones told me confident happily-ever-after stories, some told me they have entered into a commitment hoping for theirs and quite a few not so lucky ones told me the person they chose did not choose them in return.

I felt very happy and thrilled for my buddies who had found success in love – a lot of them were the oh-I’m-not-the-falling-in-love type ;). Love is by far the 2^nd most beautiful feeling in the world ( I rate a mother bearing a child 1^st) . The way someone who is not your blood understands you and accepts you for what you are, can leave you feeling amazed in only two kinds of bonds – friendship and love!

All those moments of feeling special, holding hands, stealing a quick glance, the shy smiles, and the whole new shades of brightness that show up on faces lighting up the eyes…a treat to watch in anyone smitten!

Flip 180° and I could see the brave faces that my love-slain friends were trying to put up. All those things that I mentioned for love were running through their minds too but instead of making them smile it made them cry as they crumbled under the pain of memories they carried. True. Love hurts like nothing else on earth when lost. Very true.

They say love is blind and I agree – blind enough for people to fall for someone who is not the right match and blind still to fall out with some one who is a potential soul mate!

As much as falling out with a person hurts, it is not the end of the world. I was thinking of this as I lent a shoulder to the troubled souls to cry on. A million questions were running through my head. My friends are genuine and gentle people. Fun to be with and ready to do anything to get a buddy out of trouble. Then how did they fail in the game of love? How could someone not see the sincerity behind their feelings? Or did they miscalculate the feeling and maybe it was just Cupid’s 3^rd generation cousin getting some arrow practice? What about me? I too am one of those stay-away-from-love types. Will I crash and burn too?

As I got thinking about it I remembered Morgan Freeman in the movie Evan Almighty. He says “when you ask God for something He does not give it to you wrapped in a parcel. He gives you opportunities to get what you want”. And that struck me as true. Especially with relationships. Maybe that’s what all this is about. This isn't something to be counted as a loss. It is to show how much love someone is capable of…to show that a person isn’t afraid of commitment. To make them appreciate themselves so that when true love comes along they could grab it with an open heart!

Loving someone is not about turning into a villain or a bearded-bard if they don’t love you back. It’s about feeling happy for them and caring for them exactly the way you did before you knew how they felt, because love is not something to be conquered or to fret about if lost. It is to give and give unconditionally! And those of you who have decided to breakup…do it gently…everyone deserves respect and love…more so the person who chose to love you!

For those buddies of mine who lost an early wicket in love, cry as much you want to, for the times you believe to be lost…but when you are done, feel happy for those precious moments that you bagged with your loved one…as much in the past they may be…they are still yours to keep…make new memories with your life…my suggestion – don’t be afraid to fall in love...but don’t be scared if you fall out either!

As for me I hope I don’t have to endure Cupid’s cousin and wish that the master marksman would find my knight in shining armour for me…but even if have to I would know that its not the end…I get to love someone and I would do that no matter what! At least they can be sure of one person’s love always!

There are two thoughts I’d like to quote…one from the tamil movie 'Sillunu oru kaadhal' where Bhoomika says “if you love something and find that some one else could take better care of it, how could you not let it go?” and an anonymous reflection “if you love someone and they don’t reciprocate, wait for it grow in their heart...if it doesn’t be content that it grew in yours”!

As hard as it may seem to accept these matters of the heart, they are true, right and special. To all those in love, wish you all the luck in the world…and to all those with a huge sigh…hang in there fellas! Cupid’s hitting town any moment now! Cheers!

(This article also appears here : http://inversekarma.in/crushed-paper/mills-and-bane)

Mind it!

2008-12-26T00:12:00.000-08:00

(This article was judged as the 'best in the issue' in my college magazine last spring :) )

“C’mon man cough up a few bucks!” there goes the last piece of evidence you had to prove you get pocket money. Well…all for a friend. But doesn’t it get too much? Sometimes don’t you feel like saying “c’mon give me a break!” Friends in flesh and blood are a necessity by default. What pleasure it is to be seen in a gang, flaunting the latest fashion, putting up a big smile, thumping shoulders and clapping hands. But isn't there something we are missing inside ourselves? At some point zoological friendship seems to be lacking. Do they really love me? Are they here just for fun? Will they support me always? Questions do pop up. Now let me tell you, I agree completely that there are people who would die for their friendship. This article is not about those divine bonds. I’m just trying to reach out to those who laugh in a bunch and still feel empty.

Have you ever talked to yourself? In front of a mirror? Have you listened to the wonderful things you felt about yourself? Have you realized how good a friend you can be to yourself? You were gifted with a best friend right from the moment you came into this world. A friend so true and so sincere that only the worst moments of your life uncovers him/her. Let me make it a him for reference. This friend I call ‘the mind’ – you call him whatever you want. Do understand – the brain is what thinks; the mind is what analyses and reasons. This best friend of mine and yours too deep inside will laugh and cry with you - truly. No amount of happiness or sorrow is déjà vu to him because what matters to him ultimately is you and you alone. There are no other commitments for him and the sole purpose of this friend is to see you through the complex maze of life as lightly and as successfully as possible. Hey! Am not getting preachy. This friend is flexible. Make him be any form you like – a cuddly bunny, your idol, a nice face you like – anything! Name it and he’ll cater to you, as you like. Now isn’t this what Calvin is doing with Hobbes? This friend is also as practical as you are. He’ll giggle with you, comment on your dress, that boring lecture, that cute guy/girl – anything. Just for you. And he expects nothing from you. Just be happy and ‘live’ life he would say. He’s protective, loyal, trustworthy and most of all completely secretive and extremely comforting. He fills that big void in your life. This would happen naturally when you are 60. Then you realize, Aah! I had him in here” He was always there. I just want to tell you , you can enjoy this friendship right now. Throughout your life. The more you get to him , the more he’ll make your life real. He’ll not climb the dias and start with ‘my dear comrades,,,” but you will realize the truth of life as suddenly and yet as beautifully as a dewdrop on a lotus leaf. He’ll be the first one to hug you when you win, to tell you that you are gorgeous, to shed tears for you and feel heavy when you are sad, to shake you up and comfort you saying “It’ll be alright. Don’t give up” , to tell you how it hurts when you hurt someone. He will tell none else. Forgiving is his USP.
I cant show him to you. Nor can I explain what exactly he means to me, but I have given you a sample. I’m glad I found him and he’s happy to have stepped in early. It feels heavenly listening to him and I miss nothing and I don’t feel lonely anymore. I still have my group of friends but with my best friend, I appreciate them better and they love me more. I’m being moulded by a trusted friend. What more could one ask for? I’m happy that I am in safe hands and surprised to know that it was inside me. Spiritually they call him ‘conscience’. Nah! I just call him my best buddy!

(This article also appears here: http://inversekarma.in/crushed-paper/mind-it )

A Reason to Smile

2008-12-22T01:53:00.000-08:00

Hey!! this one made it to The Hindu- Nxg, 19th march 2009 (thursday) :)

http://www.go-nxg.com/?p=4149

Am planning to mail this article to a popular tabloid in d near future :)

The shrill ring of the alarm on my mobile brought me crashing down tunnels of darkness, the other side of which I had shared with Tom Cruise seconds ago, when he promised that he would marry me..(and no, our kid will not be named Puri)!. I sat bolt upright on my bed and stared directly into my dressing table mirror just opposite…that’s an everyday event..waking up, staring into the mirror, getting my heart almost stopped looking at the ‘thing’ that I woke up as!! – tousled hair, that could do well with a board saying ‘under war’, the most sheepish of expressions on my face, trying to figure out if I was waking up or going to bed…but, that day it was slightly different…sitting upright I stared into my mirror and actually smiled!! yup! And then I thought about it….why did I smile? Unfortunately, being a rocket scientist’s niece didn’t help..so I found my way to the bathroom and tried to squeeze out paste into what my mind told me it recognized as my brush!...I looked up into the mirror above the wash and again..I smiled! A feeling of niceness overpowered me and I actually started humming a cute tune. Two minutes later I was again wondering, what was it that made me smile! No luck! I went about packing my bag and all the while dancing to the mysterious cheering charm in my head, with an invisible partner, who seemed to not mind my treading on his leg! I wasn’t challenging the niceness now…My spirits were quite high and by the time I was ready to get to college I should say I was behaving like the winner of “guess who became a princess overnight” !!

I got to my bus stop and somehow the expertise our bus driver has with finding the filthiest place to park our bus felt like the greatest joke on earth and I jumped over a puddle and raced three flies to finish first at the dung line that was a step away from my bus! I dropped onto my seat and smiled hard…that was fun! One by one my friends got on and thanks to my Oh-so-smiley day, I complemented my Not-so-friendly busmate on her dress (which by the way was nothing Prada). My best friend travels with me and she gave me a Ok-what-is-happening look and I did nothing but smile ….she smiled back, finally happy that her theory stating that I am an ISO nutcrack had finally come true! Maybe it was true! I didn’t mind being a nutcase…not on that day!

I hopped onto the steps of my department and blew out a loud Good Morning to anyone who would listen! The day was good or so it seemed to me…the first 3 lectures were trying to top the list of anaesthetics but thanks to the mysterious spirit inside me..I took pleasure in counting the number of ‘So’s and ‘What’s that my Prof was using..( he made a whopping 282 in 50 minutes!!). Lunch was when my humour took top form and me the jester, was jesting and got jested in return! My folks tried to ask me and find by themselves the reason for the laughter pandemonium I was creating….their hypotheses ranged from brain damage to boyfriend-breakup-shock-greycell-loss !!! On the whole no one cared about what we ate because we had so much fun that filled our hearts up with joy! I had become an infectious organism spreading my smile…I appreciated pathogenensis like never before!

The evening bus journey saw me at the centre of a tasteful audience cracking jokes and pulling legs! By the time everyone got down our stiches were threatening to tear apart…and I was damn hungry! I got home and found it empty…but that didn’t bug me off..it turned my enthusiasm up by a notch! I banged and rolled with the vessels and cutlery and made myself a crude imitation of a sandwich, which the Chef (my mom) would’ve claimed as a fake from as far as the end of the street! Bah! Who cares?! Frankly I didn’t! it was my smiley day and nothing bothered me….Assignments seemed funny, deadlines made me laugh and tests made my eyes water due to the sheer hilarity! I sang a horde of songs picking whatever tune that came to my mind and by the time I sat for dinner, Dad was appreciating every dime he spent on buying the earplugs! But hey! It was my day!

I finally proceeded to put down everything in my diary…maybe to skim through in the future and wonder why I had such a lunatic day!!!

As I finished penning things down, I came back to that ineveitable question – why did I smile? All day?......and then I thought…. Maybe its just one of those days you cant explain…but I remembered the joy and laughter that I was able to spread because of the vibes inside me and I felt…if that’s what I can do…then I don’t need a reason to smile!

for you my friend!

2008-02-21T05:50:00.000-08:00

For u my friend
I was walking down the avenue,
My mind in a mood for review,
Back I went to the lovely times,
Numerous were the rains and sunshines.
I remembered the road well,
It had loads about us to tell,
The way we plucked early flowers,
And tucked them into tiny covers.
The way we used to bundle up the touch-me-not,

The dew from it on our fingers like a blot
I remembered the trips on our cycle we took,
The fellow with our weight wholly shook.
I remember the times on a lonely ride you fell,
And tears pouring down my cheeks without a word to tell.
I remembered the way we played football,
You wouldn’t join us until given a call!
The way we tried to brave ghosts,
And swung around lamp posts.
I remember the way we held hands,
And came sliding down mountains of sand.
School or not we didn’t care.
Nothing mattered when together we were there.
A bond we built so tight.
And believed was forever right!
You were me and I was you,
Differences to say apart were very few.
I am at the end of the street
Crumbling under my shoes the leaves throw me a greet.
It shouldn’t have happened.
A different chapter never opened.
Destiny did us apart.
‘Thinking about me’ had a start.
It has thrust us apart so fast.
And long I do for the past
I see life’s lovely sights,
Go through many a festival of lights.
But burn do the lamps only dim,
When my heart’s alone and really grim.
I look up and see the beautiful crackers they burst,
But I scan hurriedly around me for you first.
With you life was different.
I love it that way.
If the mistake was on my side,
I have no sorries to hide.
I give them all to you,
If you will give me the cue,
That you will be back with me.
I long for the day,
When you will say,
We’ll never be apart again!
Then we’ll walk through the road to the flower we kissed,
And catch up on all that together we missed!

crying

2007-07-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

Never make fun of a person who cries,
He'll never forget it till he dies.
You do not know about his anguish,
His sorrow or his dearest wish.
He might be crying for his loved one,
With whom he smiled and had enormous fun!
He might be crying for his friend,
Who with those tears appreciates him as a God-send.
He might be crying for his people,
For things he cannot change, that lie down subtle.
He might be crying for nature,
For the present that buried the past and is destroying the future.
He might be crying for that stranger,
Seperated by thousands of miles and in danger.
He might be crying for the moon,
That will vanish in a fortnight soon.
He might be crying for that lepard,
Who with his limbs might've made a good shepard.
He might be crying for the unnaturalness all around,
Enacted with finesse round after round.
He might be crying for not being able to reach,
Those in need of a soul and a master to teach,
The colors of life-
With words action and sound.
He might be crying his heart out, for all those who don't address their pain with a shout.
He might be crying for his own soul,
That lies beneath his masks role after role!
He might be crying for his heart,
That knows not to stop loving after a start.
He might be crying for his lost love,
That he thought was protected under a golden glove.
He might be crying for the scars in his spirit cut deep ,
That makes him toss and turn in his sleep.
He might be crying for not knowing what is right,
Or wanting to do something even if his psyche puts up a fight.
He might be crying for silence,
Or for the want of a crowd.
But cry as he might he is not weak.
Don't you dare call him a freak.
If you can, give him a shoulder,
Help him vent out, climb the boulder.
For he needs not criticism, he is not an object of fun.
He is doing all he can not to break into a run,
And burn himself inside the sun.
He will cry now but he will be back.
He might be shaken ,he might be calm,
He might not hold the solution in his palm,
But his weight is gone and his heart is alive,
He feels clear in his head like after a long drive.
He will now work like he wanted,
Because he knows, nothing he wants is for free- granted.
For all mortals who think crying is cowardly,
Its better to cry than kill yourself inwardly!
All you need is more strength,
To help you cover extra lenghts.
You cannot do it when your heart is heavy-
Quit pretending you are cool and you are savvy.
Because its ok to cry and let your anguish fly,
Never make fun of a person who cries
Because now you know it makes him live before he dies!

my best buddy

2007-06-15T10:43:00.000-07:00

ah! well...look who's here..well hello every1 out there! this is another novice makin' her entry into d blogger's world..aw ok cut d crap...fine..i thot i'll start off on a gud note..i love making friends 'n u have 2 hear abt my best buddy.. i was talking 2 my best buddy 2day.i was telling him abt my life, the years i've come thro' after my school life..d way it wasnt gud as i had expected, d way i still managed 2 find some friends, i went on 'n on abt many things. he just let me talk.never interrupted.he was patient with my constant chatter so much so that he didnt even bother abt d bunch of bees fighting around him! he is sweet lemme tell u 'n has a pleasant lush face.he is extremely tall (a fact that i envy) 'n muscular (ahem!). he's always got a bunch of flowers for me 'n if not that a hearty laughter! that is something i love abt him. his laugh wld not mock at u or run into ur veins 'n activate ur lachrymals. it will b as if 2 say "oh! my dear kiddo!". it was a fatherly gesture that i found myself comfy with. i saw him first when we moved into my dad's office quarters. we both became friends instantly.something abt him struck me 'natural'. when with him u wldnt run around for breath. i cld see him at his place from my window 'n he was always an early riser. his scented early morning greeting was something that i never missed. he wasnt that active on d ground so when i wld run abt 'n play he wld just sit back 'n enjoy.when i did well he wld applaud 'n when i goofed up 'n turned an embarrassed face at him he wld chuckle 'n let it pass! i've always found him comforting..i used 2 sit with him when i prepared for my exams 'n he wld maintain a tart silence. the ambience always made me feel intelligent. when i needed 2 relax he wld become light hearted 'n we wld chat for sometime. i always felt he was more closer 2 god than me.so i wld request him to pray for me 'n shuttle out for my exams. he's been there for me every moment.when i cried he wld surround me with his love 'n i wld get pacified instantly. when i laughed he wld join me 'n that always shook him up completely! there wld b tears of joy like dew drops in his eyes. i used 2 wonder if the happiness was originally mine. i've moved out of the quarters now but he's still there. he's quite attached to that place. he still loves me 'n whenever i go over he'll b d first 1 2 welcome me. 'n d 'ol story wld begin again! there were numerous times when we've been together 'n i've felt the peace in him flow thro' me. not 2 worry. he'll be there as long as i'm here. he's sure 2 b around for another 100-150 years....ya.what?..uh! oh! well..u r wondering ..um.. my best buddy is a eucalyptus tree!! honestly! wat were u expecting???!

(this article also appears here: http://inversekarma.in/crushed-paper/i-was-talking-to-my-best-buddy )