Well, I'll be damned!

Appalled.
Thats what I am now.

http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/sanjeebmukherjea/262/2126/rajini-the-blogbuster.html

For some reason, I not only find this blog repulsive but also sad, in a sense that our country has to put up with a shit-load of racists like this.

Not that I'm a confirmed Rajini fan or a Dravidian-fanatic (except when its Rahul Dravid we're talking about), but its the constant battering of the so called 'Dravidian' race (the dogmatic way of referring to the southies) like they belong to a completely different lineage.

What in heaven's name are these guys trying to do...that too in a public forum???
Friggin Racists!

Life's Lesson #120707

Thou shalt not be proud of thyself for bringing down the Mainframes.


Corollary: Lets just keep ourselves out of trouble, shall we.

Go Figure!

Lets see..

5 Jumbo Jangiris/Jilebees (Courtesy: Surya Sweets, Mylapore)
2 Raj kachoris
2 fat Samosas
1/2 packet of mixture (the other half being devoured by yours truly the previous day itself)
1 big Mango
3 Vaazhapazhams (Bananas for the un-informed in Tamil)
1 packet of Top Ramens Smoodles
1 Packet of Krishna Potato cheeps

...All this in addition to the customary 'Rasam' and Curd rice with vendakkai-poriyal ; A combination I can't do without before hitting the sack.


Well...if you're still here and haven't fainted yet, you could read this too.

Today, most evidently, I had a diet any model would die for (or actually, die with).
What model, most of my friends would crave for this sooper combination of food-items considering that some of them have really transformed into Divine-Goddesses ever since we got out of college...all this while I'm radically turning into a plump-kush-ball.
They all have the will-power. And I don't.
No,actually its the other way round....I have all the will power to gorge in all the food I set my eyes upon ...while tragically, my friends don't.
(slight call for SOS here!)

Off late, I've been forced to confront this insatiable urge of mine that makes me devour anything I can lay my hands on and this activity of eating like theres no tomorrow, is performed by me with such elan you know...absolutely no guilt, no remorse...no prudence over the dire repercussions I have to face once all that I've gorged in, has turned into un-digested (or digested...whatever!) fat which gets deposited in all the unwanted places (not like there are many wanted places...but I'm not getting into all that).

The fact that I'm unable to refrain from thulping in everything I see (well..almost everything, I most conveniently happen to stay away from healthy food. damn!) doesn't really seem disturb me as much as the fact that I am un-perturbed by my over-indulgence.

Too complex a sentence? Lets re-word it.

The very fact that I'm shamelessly un-perturbed by my herculean appetite, perturbs me and I seriously don't know what I ought to do about it. I'm always hungry. Period.

Do scientists have a cure for hunger?
'Well,of course you nitwit....food', you might say.
But isn't that my problem in the first place?
Too much food?
Aren't we back to where we started?

hmm...ok,I don't intend to publicize my problems over the internet (yeah right..thats what this blog was for, anyway). To his own, each problem (That would have sounded much better in Latin.Ignorance..hmph! )

Anyways, I'm working on it.
Well, ok...its not really a nerve-wrecking problem 'n all, when benchmarked with poverty in Somalia, venal Governments, Global Warming, and unmarried girls in my family .... one or two words of wisdom and encouragement will do ;)

Until then, all I can say to myself is..

Goooooooooo Figure!!

Calvinized

Some Trip (..or why you should just walk it all the way)

My office-mates scattered all over India (Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta, Ahemedabad 'n Bangalore to be precise) had decided to meet up in Madras for a nice holiday over the weekend. The itenary involved visiting Thirupathi followed by a trip to Yercaud.
Simple.
Yeah, I wish!

This trip would have been just another trip if we had planned it meticulously for which I sincerely advocate people to plan their holidays in future in such a way that, they are unplanned to the last minute.
Chaos is good fun, I've discovered. :D

Before going about this journey, let me introduce you to some of our key players in this trip.

1. Pradeep - our mystery bus that did everything but move.
2.Mr. Muthu, the Bus owner-Who seriously ought to close down this incompetant bijjiness of his and perhaps join another software company. I’m talking to HR-TCS for a fair opening.
3. Fate (without which this trip would have been just another trip)
4. Us crazy juntha-Need I say more.


12:30am Thursday : Night out at Anchal’s.

Bombay, Guj, Calcutta ‘n Delhi guys turn up at Anchu s place…Takloo (who was not yet takloo), his friend Sudheep, Sahil, Tosh, Chacha, Raman, Paro, Bhaumik, Yudee, Chirag, Nikhil, Chirag Patel,Anchal Surosa Shyamala ‘n me..
boy, seeing everyone under the same roof would never feel the same. After doing some exuberant screaming, shouting and catching up we head to the nearby TCS office for tea at some ungodly hour 4am. The bus is expected to arrive at 5am. We re all ready leave.

Thrusday, 7am
Its 7am We’re STILL ready for the bus to arrive. Calling the bus-driver seems tougher that talking George Bush into joining Indian politics.
But oh well, we have our cameras and ourselves to have some fun.

Some one ‘n half hours, 21 phone calls and ten photos later, the bus finally arrives.
And following that, is the grand entry of Saaaaaaaaaaaai ;) (Applause, applause!)



Friday 10AM, Pradeep
We re on our way to Thirupathi…. It feels nice not to be cramped up in a bus like we used to in Trivandrum. Lots of space….lots of talking..and a bit of sleeping. (Sahil also caught up on a bit of sleep if I do remember ;) )


Friday, 12:00 pm Thirupathi
Blore guys arrive…PayDay, Naveen, Jimmy and Veena (PD’s friend) are welcomed with much excitement. We move to the local bus-stand in Thirupathi to board another bus which will take us to the hill-top (the temple being on a hill). Topic of discussion during our ascent up the hill was Jimmy’s new sexy cell phone-one in black with one of those tooth-pick types you can poke the screen with.
Some good fun there.

(flanked by Naveen, Raman, Bhaumik 'n Tosh)





3pm Thirumala, hill top
It isn’t too cold, neither is it too hot. We walk to a public hall where we can keep our stuff in lockers and freshen up. We’re all set to head to the temple after that.
But not without some lunch at a nearby restaurant. Sahil-saab very dutifully took our orders and we were all now really ready for the temple J

Friday 5pm, on our way to temple
2 official takloos originate at this hour.
Takloo and Parimal (like one talkoo was not enough in our gang :P)
Chacha, I presume will now be the style icon in Mumbai ;)



The queue is long.

Very long.

Free-dharshan has a notorious reputation for making people wait forever to see the lord. What follows the long queue is a room which houses something like 200 hundred people and makes us wait for another for 5 odd hours.
But trust me, waiting has never really been this much fun.
Imagine 20 people cramped up along the steps which can customarily seat 12 people. Absolutely no space to even lift your hand and scratch your head.
Activities during this wait, involve fervently discussing Tosh’s romantic engagement [;)], Chirag’s 4 day wedding, Sahil’s childhood love stories, and hitting Jimmy’s face every 3 mintues. (ask chacha)

Friday 8pm, inside waiting room
Paro faints.
She feels bad about it later….sweet girl
I seriously don’t know why she feels guilty.
I’m sure all of us would have dropped in that claustrophobic ambience in some time anyway.

Friday 9pm, inside waiting-room
We’re tired of waiting but we still have to. So,now we all plan to sing. I sing Lukka Chuppi which sparks up some laughter for some unknown reason. Unknow then, known now (reasons please contact chacha and Takloo)
We’re still waiting for darshan.

Saturday,12:30 am, Temple
Darshan time.
We scramble in the stampede to get darshan. Its just some 9 seconds of viewing the magnificent lord in his chamber, but the darshan was worth all the waiting. Defintiely.
We move out of the temple and have dinner at a place that’s ready to kick us out in any moment. I don’t blame them. It is really late.

Saturday, 2am, bus-stand
We move to the bus stand there and do what we do best.
Wait.
This time, we re really bugged as its night, its dark, we’re tired and we have no roof above our heads…waiting isn’t exactly what we like doing now though we’ve gained enough expertise in it.
Some try to sleep..some continue playing an exciting word game (I like word games J )while some just stare into space…wondering if there is a bus that’s going to pick us up after all.

This was taken that night when no one even bothered to look at the cam :)




3:30 am, in bus-stand
That’s it. No more waiting. Some action here please…so Sahil/Chacha/someone goes to a nearby public hall so that we can rest in it while we wait. We all rest and almost sleep.

3:40am
Pradeep arrives. Talk about perfect timing.
On our way to Salem, then on to Yercaud….yaahoooo!!!!!!!

Satuday, 9am, in Pradeep
We’ve left Andhra and are at some place in Tamil Nadu I’ve never even heard of before. (Yes I’m a Tamilian, not further questions )

I wake up to see a load of people still sleeping in the bus. Chacha apparently hasn’t had a wink of sleep all night.
Poor fellow…. This guy ‘s an organizer all the way. Peedee,Veena ‘n I promptly leave to the wash-rooms in the bus-stand nearby and later realize, that was a futile waste. I cant brush my teeth there and that fact disturbs me to a great extent.

The bus moves from there VERY VERY slowly…and soon breaks down.
Fine, no problem.. happens to buses, so no problem. We get down, and wait for the driver to be back.
I discover that the place we’re in is called Thirupathoor.
We call Krati (whos in Yercaud now) and tell her we’re on our way and we ‘ll be there in another 3 hours max.


Saturday, 1 pm broken down bus
After an hour of waiting the driver takes the bus and we’re off. But this time, we move MUCH slower. Sooner than later, he bus breaks down. Again.

This time we’re really pissed off. The driver begs for one more hour. JUST one more hour and he promises the bus will be ready. We comply and decide to have our lunch.

Saturday, 3:00 pm, back from lunch
We return 2 hours later..the bus is still not ready. Driver begs for 3 more hours.
Anchu ‘n I frantically call up the owner, Mr.Muthu and ask him what the hell is going on.
Krathi calls up and we tell her we’re on our way to Yercaud. :D This game really was a lot of fun.

3:30pm, near the broken-down bus
We decide to send the entire lot in a TATA Sumo to Yercaud while the 5 of us (Anchu, chacha, Takloo, Sahil ‘n I) wait beside the bus and settle things out with the driver. We’re proud for having sent the rest of the lot “safely” on their way to Yercaud.
Krathi is impatient…but we tell her its just another one or 2 hours.

After some talking, yelling, thinking and agreeing…the 5 of us decide to send the bus back to Chennai and settle the money matter once we get back to Chennai.
We get into an Ambassador which we pay a fat lump of money to take us to Yercaud.

Finally, every one s going to Yercaud.
Or, that’s what we think.

Saturday 5pm, White Ambassador
Doing some major time pass in the white Ambassador, discussing quite a few thing. Good fun.

But the climax is getting a call from the Sumo guys…saying that their gaadi just broke down and even better, their gaadi has crappy brakes.

We (the white Ambassador juntha) laugh our gutts out thinking of their fate, while we merrily move on towards Yercaud.

Saturday 8pm, WhiteAmbassador
We reach Salem ,some 1750 metres below Yercaud (which is at the hill top )
The driver stops.
And tells us we can get down.

Ambassador Juntha: ummm….why have we stopped by the way?

Ambassador Driver: Because we’ve reached the end of our journey.

Ambassador Juntha: Umm….. Mr.Driver, hello!! We paid you for Yercaud didn’t we?

Ambassador Driver: You paid me for Yercaud ‘Road’. This is Yercaud Road.
So please get down.

Ambassador Juntha: What the @#$%#%^!

After some yelling and shouting and tonnes of laughing (I think I broke a few bones laughing there) we pay that stupid driver and looked for other means to getting to Yercaud. I think I lost hope of reaching here.
Krati calls up..this time genuinely asking us if we’recoming to Yercaud. We tell her we’re on our way.




Saturday 8:30 pm, bus-stand in Salem
Finally a bus.
A bus.. that moves, a bus that wont break down, a bus that has brakes and most importantly a bus that’s taking us to Yercaud. Aaaaaa…we’re a happy lot. Meanwhile the Sumo people are luckily on their way despite their brake-less gaadi.


Saturday 11 pm, Yercaud, hill-top
All of us meet at Yercaud. Sumo guys, Ambassador guys and Krathi. (Krathi along with Dhari and Shreyans)

Aaaah….finally!!!!
Hooooorrraaaay!!!
Everybody has something to say about the journey. Krati is thrilled. She’s waited the most. (14 hours to be precise).
We have a camp fire.
It rocks. Biggggg time!!! One of Sahil's rare appearances ;)





Next day.

Sunday, 9 am, Yercaud
We leave the cottage and have breakfast. The mini-van we’ve arranged for is such a darling. It takes us to places all over Yercaud without absolutely any trouble.
It doesn’t break down, it didn’t demand for extra money, it doesnt crash.
We have a mind-blowing time in Yercaud.
Trekking was just A-W-E-Some!!!!
Krathi leaves with her friend. The rest of us carry on.

I’m not gonna say much about the trekking part as I feel the photographs will do more justice J
(but just one thing though…a big thank you for those guys who helped me all the way up to the farthest point in the trek. It felt magical for having made it that far..Naveen,Raman,Chirag,Shreyans and the rest…couldn’t have done it without you guys!)


(At the top. No we arent lying down :D)



Sunday 6pm, Salem
We’re done with Yercaud and we’ve all made it to Salem in one piece.
The journey downwards exposed the Yo! side of Nikhil Ravi.

His Eminim-style rap ‘Dono maja karengae’ rocked….. though I had to get all that translated by Tosh later ;)


We have to bid the Blore guys good-bye. That’s is the tough part. But the tougher part is yet to come.
Arranging for transportation to Chennai was not going to be easy at the eleventh hour.
Running around here n there..to the Railway station n stuff deprived me of a chance of saying a proper good-bye to the Blore folks.
All of you…u guys rocked yar…serisously!!
PayDay…sweetie, you’re a chocolate!

8:30 pm
Sahil, Anchu n I run frantically to the railway-station to book tickets…found them, paid for them… done! We’re gonna go ta Chennai, confirmed…hooooray!!!!!!!

Monday morning, we bid some of the Bombay guys farwell…I was incapable of being too senti then because of the tension for finding a decent means of transportation to Anchu s flat.
Love you guys!!


I stop here.
(I hear a sigh of relief but let me just pretend like I didnt hear that.. ;))
This was indeed a very long mail and I really appreciate it if you read it this far.
If you didn’t, no problem, I still love you guys no less ;)

I look back at the last 96 hours and I wonder in bedazzlement at the dynamic-factor in life and the enormity of unpredictability it has in store for anyone who is willing to accept it as it comes.

What I learnt or rather inferred, was that there are some things in life we have absolutely no control over what so ever, and in such cases we just have to patiently watch the turn of events – you’ll be amazed at the way things turn out when left to themselves.

It just goes to show that good times are not about what you do, when you do or how you do it; but just the people you share your moments with.

And now as I type this on my lappy listening to Roobaroo from Rang de basanthi with a smile on my face, I have a feeling of content and deep satisfaction that I have quite a bank of memories to dwell upon for some time to come and that I have some fabulous people to share them with.





Love you guys.
More than ever
Mayth!!

Life's Lesson #70623.....

Happy bosses maketh happy juntha

(Though the converse is very seldom true)

Shivaji - I rest my case

I've never actually been a Rajini fan. Never really liked him all that much.
But I’ve seen it for myself now.

There is no denying in it anymore and now I'm forced to eat my own words.

Rajini-kanth…Tamil-Nadu’s sooobar-star. You can love him or you can hate him…but you certainly CERTAINLY can’t ignore him.


The Tamil-movie industry has an uncanny way of reminding its faithful patronizers who the 'boss’ still is (pun unintended) and now the prejudiced-section of the audience (a part of which I was, till a while back) can no longer sit at home and twiddle their thumbs while the entire nation (and I read, the whole world too) gazes in bedazzlement at this high-budget phenomenon from Asia.

I know. Rajini has grown old and is now rather squidgy around the edges.
I’d be lying if I said that I found him to be sinfully sexy with/without that magical make-up and fluffy wig of his.
Yep, he no longer can do those eye-catchy dance steps with sooper jhatkas & matkas because of which his dance steps are tragically limited to the ‘bulb-dance’ sequence (college’s ragging routine which involves hand-movements analogous to the activity of screwing/unscrewing a bulb)

But all those cons just seem to vanish out of sight when he delivers those lines of his with unmeasurable attitude and class knowing that the audience is going to lap it up for whatever ludicrous content it may bear.

I perceive Shivaji- to be a beautiful movie for more reasons than one.

a) Shankar. Need I say more.

b) A not too-serious-yet-rather-striking theme based on giving your mother-land your
very best ; even when shit happens (Which is quite a lot these days).

c) Money money everywhere in every frame of the movie. Lets you get in touch with the surreal part of reality.

d) Raghuvaran. An small yet honest role that reminded the Tamil audience of what this fine actor was and is capable of doing. Every movement and line had a genuine feel to it. He definitely deserved this. And much more.

e) The wardrobe.
Man! Mind boggling stuff there...couldnt take my eyes of Shriya's attire. Manish Malhotra has delivered to this movie more than he ever would and could to Bollywood itself. Shriya is here to stay and she's climbing up up wayyyyyy up.

f) Cute humour... Enna vicha Commedy onnum pannaliyae, Kids paakardidu Pogo; Shivaji kitta vechikkadae gogo :P Vivek, your my man!

g) Music. A.R. Rahman. I'd be wasting my time if I wrote anything here.

h) Songs.
For their resplendence and overtly ostentatious choreography. You’ve to see it to believe it. Karan Johar’s got some records to beat here.

i) Rajinikanth (well of course...who did you expect here..Paris Hilton?)


I thoroughly enjoyed this movie despite detesting logically-depraved movies.

This one is exclusively for Tamil folks...and they simply love it.
Typically entertaining, typically Rajini.
And thats all that matters.


Amen.

For a Name's Sake

The Namesake would have been just another book I scrambled to read in a hurry in order to avoid paying a customary fine to the librarian (who of late has considered making me one of the library's official stakeholders for the fat income it gets out of the fine I pay).... if it weren't for the profound retrospection it gave way to.

Retrospection, on all those times as a kid when I'd wish I had a cooler name or at least an easier one to call myself by so that I wouldn't have to repeat my name some 5-10 times to all the British kids and teachers at school.

Having your name mutilated by the Indian masses is one thing (Mythili, Mydeenee, Maydilee,Megini...yeah, I've heard it all) but having your name shrunk to the size of a month of the year and being called that by everyone including your teachers is another; and this certainly is not my idea of 'cool'.

My name was a serious issue for me when I was in Junior-School more so because of the cute names my friends in class would have. Even the Indians in my school had short and chic names.
I remember Kajal Pai being a hot favorite and I secretly liked the way it sounded as opposed to the 3-syllabled first-name I possessed followed by yet another 3-syllabled sirname......too much for Non-Indian standards.
And too much for a sensitive 7 year old.
There were seriously times when I'd ask my mom if we could change my name...and she'dlook at me incredulously and ask..again?

Unlike the book where in Gogol changed his name from a un-cool one to a cool one, my name when I was a kid was changed from a simple one to a complex one. This bugged me for quite some time. (long saga...might blog on it sometime. Or then again, maybe not)

But yes, my detestation for my name did die down soon.
I moved schools. The Indian School, to be precise.
I was no longer the strange kid with the weird name.
I discovered that Indians (especially South-Indians) have the innate ability to name their children with the longest of names and I was no longer left alone in the dark.

Ah, those were the days (loud sigh)....where the smallest of things would leave me excited!
I'd go running home to my mom (well not really but I'd like to think so) exclaiming, 'Ma! There's a girl called Hamsavardhini in the neighbouring class' and I would count my fingers while I chirped Ham-sa-var-dhi-nee in glee.

(Note to self: keep topic of blog in mind while blogging)

Ah right..so what was trying to say (somewhere) is that, despite the initial apathy I had for my name, I'd begun to love my name . The very sound of it...and very way its written in Sanskrit and in Tamil; Not because of its uniqueness or anything or because there are perhaps only a hand-few of 'me's in this world.... but because its my identity and its perhaps one of the few (or only) decisions my parents have both harmoniously agreed upon.


On reading The Namesake, I felt grave pity for Gogol. (the protagonist of the book who apart from leading an unfortunately-loser life, changes his name to suit the American way of life) ...pity, because he'd turned down his father's most precious gift to him...an identity, with a solid meaning to cherish.

I sometimes fear that there's a Gogol in all of us. Inside me.
I could categorically dismiss this thought as seeming absurd...but I don't know.
I really don't know.

You know that its just NOT your Sunday at the Movies when...

1.You plan for an exciting meetup at Sathyam expecting some 15 people; where only 7 turn up.

2. You rush like a maniac across the roads of Chennai and park your vandi outside the theatre gate just to get there on time; only to discover that your quite early than expected.

3. Watching a movie turns out to be a visually tiring experience leaving you feeling as though you've faught a battle against the Pirates from the movie.

4. You spend half your time gaping at the screen wondering what the hell in going on out there; and the rest of the time waiting for the pop-corn to arrive.

5. You've been dumped with a life-supply of pop-corn and what easily seems to be one-litre of ice-cold Coke which you struggle to drive down your throat throughout the movie; only in vain.

6. You've sat through the movie for 180 minutes and you still don't know what the movie's all about.

7. You leave the theatre just to find that your vandi has been towed by the Chennai Police; on the grounds of parking in a non-parking area.

8. Your friends accompany you in travelling another 2 kms to get to the Police station to demand for your vandi because your the rightful owner (hell, yeah!).

9. You pay up and eventually don't get a receipt. Ahem.:D

10. You decide to cross the road and park at Spencer's Plaza with Vikram, Shyamz and Surosa...for a blissful sandwhich at Sub-ways and a good stroll at Landmark.

11. You think to yourslef,

"Aaaaah....all in a day's work.
Shouldn't all Sundays be as invigorating as this?"
:P

It spreads inside you and outside too

There is something about the word ‘cancer’ these days that gives me an instant gush of fear about the profound uncertainty of ..life. Uncertainty manifests itself into a whole new meaning when taking the word cancer into consideration.

Now, this is one disease which hits us when we’re in the pink of health and when most unexpected. The sad part of succumbing to this wicked-disease is that, its perhaps the only one (apart from tumor which again is another form of cancer) which defies Newton’s 3rd Law of Motion
"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”
(ok….serious misinterpretation of 11th grade Physics I hear you say, but wait…hear me out I say)

I’ve always thought of diseases to be a result of some perceptible cause. I’m not saying that its karmic ‘n all, just that you can account for every state of illness, injury or disorder that you endure. Everything can be accounted for.
Everything has a concrete cause.
Everything.

Except Cancer.

So far, from what I’ve seen, cancer can hit absolutely anybody.
Regardless of whether you live a tobacco free life or whether you own a tobacco factory....Its just as random as the grading in one of my papers in 6th sem.
Anybody.

This very thought hits me with a sudden spasm of sadness and anger considering that we humans, the most intelligent and powerful species in the Universe (disregarding any probable signs of extra-terrestrial wildlife out there ) are incapable of confronting and curing something very much science related as opposed to a tsunami (which man possibly couldn't control or evade); despite the colossal advancement we’ve made, over the years, in the field of science and medicine.

Doesn’t it haunt you when you realize that there’s a probability that you might be in a position to confront something you can’t understand or account for?
Something you can’t reason with or bargain with?
Something you can solve or resolve?
Something that brings irreplaceable sorrow and loss that spreads across a family or an entire generation,like a cancer (pun intended).

I would mention the various intriguing causes to cancer listed in one of the sites...someof them absurd, but fascinating just the same...
But that’s not what I blog for.... No. I don’t discuss useful information :P(that you should’ve discovered by now after reading some of my informatively-prolific blogs, O tolerant reader).

I’m still baffled by this medical-enigma and all I wish to say is that.. ..No one deserves to be killed unless he legally deserves it or illegally wants to.

Its one thing if you are diagnosed with malignancy after puffing a fat six-digit-number of cigarettes (die smokers, die!) but it’s totally different thing when your diagnosed with the same while/after living life abiding by all the protocols of perfect healthy living; when it suddenly hits you like a bus.

Life has so much it can unravel.
Sometimes, the best-est of solutions to any confusion in life could lie in answering a simple question… Will you have fun while resorting to it…?

Because at the end of the day, you should be proud of what you’ve lived for and lived through… and not how long you spend doing just that.

To Smt. Vatsala Nagarajan whom I love and respect with all my heart. Its not fair what life (or otherwise..) does to fabulous people like you.

Life's Lesson #74567.....

A Scorpio forgives....but never forgets..

And I'm as Scorpio as they come.

Calvinized

Had to.

My Helmet's Redemption

...Our Government has finally done it.

The Law now has it that car-drivers not not strapping their belts (Aww...don't give me any crap about trouser/pant-ka-belt funny-guy..Tamil-Nadu Policemen aren't THAT dumb.THere! No legal hassles attached) and two-wheeler drivers driving without a helmet, will be caught and prosecuted.

Bwahahahahaha...(Evil laughter)

hmm....Lets see...this new Law-thingy does insinuate a few things.

Ayy) I hunt down that big-fat-ugly-red helmet of mine from the cob-web laddened archives of my house (despite learning a lesson the hard way ) and put it out for a while in the sun, to make it more head-friendly (and more spider not-so-friendly)

Bee) My mom takes our car to the garage to fix all the belts in the car even the ones at the back,so that they..come, when pulled (the very way well-behaved belts should behave)

See) Now this is something I'm not so sure about. Should pillion riders be donning a helmet too? I'm quite concerned because I always have someone or the other behind me everytime I ride my vandi.


Well, if yes, I'd very happily share mine..but I don't intend on getting prosecuted in the near future,thank you very much. And for some wicked reason I don't intend on investing on another big-fat-red thing;even if its for you, darling.
So, that brings us to a point of uncertainty in Point#See.

But ...hey, there is a good chance that we don't get caught for my pillion-rider-not-donning-a-helmet.
I'm quite fast on the roads and I could just Vrooooom! past the pot-bellied men-in-white.
My pillion riders love me! :)
(I can say what I want...Its my blog!)

But I'm not getting all jumpy and thrilled by that optimistic-notion because the probability that we're gonna get caught on the road with me maneuvering my loyal blue 2-stroke vandi for reasons apart from you not donning a helmet, is tragically quite large.

So either way you 'n I are meat, sweetie!
(that still brings us to a point of uncertainty in Point#See)


Never mind..

At this moment when early cab drivers,lack of good sleep, unfinished documents,an mp3 player that needs fixing and an impending Quality Audit at work ,are issues to be considered, 'Point#See' doesn't really gain top priority in my things-to-worry-about list.


There!
Well...whadya know? This country IS getting better after all...'n I'm so proud of it.
Now, if only the idea of a ban on auto-drivers' reckless driving could sink in.

(But who listens to me! Bah!)

;)

To Crib or Not to Crib..

Corporate life and its very overwhelming side-effects (plenty, on which I shall elaborate in detail later..if you haven't had enough of it so far, that is) have been one of the prime factors of inspiration (if not the only) for the genesis of my blog.

You know... I've read blogs on politics,societal hypocracy,college pressure, family knots,patriotism and some on improving your culinary skills too and all these blogs would be really enticing and not to mention, insightful.

I'd always wonder what I would blog on bearing in mind the multifarious topics that will interest both me and a common reader so that one day an arbit reader would exclaim out loud.. 'Ah good blog! I should definitely come back and learn more.'

But try as I might, I am exceedingly incapable of refraining from centring my blogs around the common-denominator, 'Work'.
And it doesnt stop with that..

From work, springs more work...which leads to pressure...which brings us to tension...taking us to dissatisfaction, and eventually my most favourite comfort-zone, 'cribbing'

Ah, cribbing!
Now don't you uncategorically dismiss this act as a trite activity.
Judgemental you!
hmph!!

Convincing and captivating cribbing comes only with practice and how convincingly you enthrall your sympathizing audience depends on how well you've mastered this art (and of course the sort of people you're subjected to at work...but thats just a tag added-on for humour. Or is it?)

I for one am the indeclared Mistress of Cribbing. Why, in fact, 'crib' is my middle name (after whining, fusspot, and lazy-bum of course)

And you know what?
Cribbing is contagious too. In a fun sort'ov way.

How?
Well...picture this...you wouldn't want your life to sound all mega 'peachy' over the phone when your poor friend's stuck at work with absurd timings, a crappy home...with crappy roomates...with an abominable boss..not to mention the miserable pay she might be getting.

So what can you do?
You can't undo her crappy life-style...No siree!
But what you can do, is make your life sound a little less chirpy...just trying to make your friend feel better, if not good.
So you do an itsy-witsy bit of cribbing in front of your depraved friend.
Like a harmless drink in front of your boss.
No harm after all.
Its not going to change anything anyway.

Thats harmless, steadfast and unadulterated cribbing for you. :)

The problem only rises when this becomes a habit and when you blame all your problems on one soul reason.
This is whats called 'uncool' cribbing
That is when you need an urgent metamorphosis on your outlook on life, in general.

hmmm....so much for uncalled-for philosphy-preaching.
(Please dont hate me for this)

So...will my blogs be worthwhile and constructive henceforth??

umm.... Next kosteen please :D


A forward I accidentally happened to read. Somethink to think about.
Always..

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-
conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel.
It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with the adminperson, it was the savings in time.
As PM, he had so many things to do.

He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use.

"Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.

Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.

"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today everything is getting computerized."

"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.

He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling pass.

"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things outside."

Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it." For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex."

"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.

"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in.Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do not sweat.
You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing."

He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.

"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrency; data integrity, locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"


The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such things."

"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"

"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now."

It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The man had to be given a feel of the heat.

"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the user wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."


Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self- realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't know what it is to be in the line of fire."

The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization.
When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.


"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.

"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of us were alive."


"You are a..."

"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety."
"But my captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded."


"His own personal safety came last, always and every time. He was killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now, as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire."

Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes.


The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.

"It was nice meeting you sir."

Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly as if by impulse,he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute.
It was the least he felt he could do for the country.


PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight.
For this and his various other acts of bravery he was awarded the Param
Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.

Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!

Life's Lesson #300507.....

Leave all your attitude at home when dealing with the Management.

Now tell me…

Am I weird just because I sit on my office-chair with my legs crossed ?

Am I pretentious just because I prefer the Queen’s Language to any other?

Am I confused just because my blog says so?

Am I unromantic just because I’m not in love?

Am I content just because I’m not ruthless?

Am I a narcissist just because I love myself?

Am I egoistic just because I think I can?

Am I a spoilt-brat just because I’m the only kid?

Am I a push-over just because I’m accomodative?

Am I aggressive just because I want to get my work done ?

Am I your friend just because I tolerate you?

Am I callous just because I don’t tell my dear ones how much I love them?

Am I cruel just because I have no control over my temper?

Am I a sissy just because I like pink?

Am I selfish just because I don’t wish to share my make up?

Am I vain just because I’m obsessed with my kajal and mascara?

Am I a nice person just because I let you have all the paneer from my dinner plate?

Am I a snob just because I don’t make the first move?

Am I meek just because I don’t rebel?

Am I self-centred just because I don’t volunteer to do your work?

Am I asking for too much when I want some time for myself?

Am I lazy just because I demand a sound 10 hour sleep?

Am I indifferent just because I don’t remember my best friends’ birthdays?

Am I stupid just because I don’t get things instantly?
(Don’t answer that, thank you very much)

Am I jobless just because I put this post up?

Are you, just because you’re reading this?


So many questions…so little time..
Life is unfair.

But Tell me…So what?

Life's Lesson #564855.....

A fever doesn't let you sleep for nuts....
How many ever sheep you try counting.

I'm learning...

I dunno.
Life, over the last few weeks has become unexpectedly hectic and overwhelmingly flustering.
Thanks to the work-factor I’m a part of, I’m able to keep the insanity in my life live ‘n kickin .
(Goooooo WORK!)

Lets see… lots of deadlines sprouting up, lots of tension in the air, lots of planning, lots of talking, lots of midnight tea, lots of strategy making, lots of strategy re-making, topped with lots of timely goof-ups, lots of laughter, lots of tempers flashing about, lots of frustration, lots of cursing (:D), lots more laughter, lots more midnight tea……….
Yep, quite a lot I’m seeing here with my naïve inexperienced eyes.

The team of ten I spend an average of almost 60 hours a week with, is the most heterogeneous and amajjingly bindaas kind of team…. and can be quite a handful to deal with when I'm tensed and under pressure (which is like…always)

Every day is a new day (well duhh..) but I've come to learn that you don’t always start on a clean slate. You do carry some baggage on to the next day, whether you like it or not.
So I’ve learnt to play it cool….chill, sit back and watch the fun (purely figurative mind you. Can’t afford otherwise)



Something makes me think of this song at this moment.

I'm sittin' here in the boring room
It's just another rainy sunday afternoon
I'm wasting my time, I got nothing to do
I'm hanging around, I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder

I'm driving around in my car
I'm driving too fast, I'm driving too far
I'd like to change my point of view
I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree
I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just another lemon tree

I'm sittin' here, I miss the power
I'd like to go out, taking a shower
But there's a heavy cloud inside my head
I feel so tired, put myself into bed
But nothing ever happens, and I wonder

Isolation, is not good for me
Isolation, I don't want to sit on the lemon tree

I'm stepping around in the desert of joy
Maybe anyhow I get another toy
And everything will happen, and you wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just another lemon tree
I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree
And I wonder, wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see, and all that I can see
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree..

Fools Garden



I’m work-under-progress.
I’m learning.
It slow and crappy.

But I'm liking it..
:D

Ah...

...My first 15-hour day at work.

Am I on fire or what!

:P

A Sip of Coffee for the Beginners' Soul

I was stuck in a meeting this morning with some angr(ej)y folks at work and the amount of continuous yada-yada-yada blah-blah-blah I was subjected to, is just inexplicable.
It was past my lunchtime and this meeting just never seemed to end.

I was beginning to feel hungry...and restless...and fidgety....and agitated...and jumpy, and irritated to say the least 'coz my tummy was now making funny noises and let me tell you, you don't want to be within a 10 metre radius from me when my tummy is no longer under my control.

I was desperate. I'd keep eyeing the door waiting for a miracle to happen.. like for instance, someone coming through the door with lunch on a tray or the bell ringing signalling that all activity ought to stop.
(Bell???? At work?? Anyone having the feeling I skipped college and joined work straight away from school??)

Just when I was I beginning to lose all hope a fellow enters the Conference Room with a tray.
Prayers answered!
Talk about wishful thinkin...Boy, that was quick!

But wait...a tray...with cups?
Tea??
At 01:30 pm in the afternoon???
Who, in his/her right senses would serve TEA in the afternoon?????!?!?!?!?!?!!?

Fine whatever....I gazed hopefully at that tray while it was gracefully but friggin slowly taking its turn round the table.

I grab that cup when I get the chance.
Sip...lick....mmmmmmmm

No...more like...gulp...lick..gulp...gulp...gulp...mmmmm...(burp)

That drink was well deserving...Big smile on face.
But wait..this wasnt tea....this was...wait..its like something I've never tasted before.

Coffee.
Coffee....It was Coffee!

By George!

I drank my first cup of coffee ever, unknowingly that too....shattering all my ancient apprehensions on caffeine, throwing my prejudice against poor-'ol-coffee out the window.


And, you know what?
It didn't taste all that bad.

Think I'll give this drink a try once in a while.
(I'm still loyal to milk and tea though)

Anyways.....
Well...whaddya know....looks like coffee,most definitely, is my cup of tea after all:)

A Song for the Heart

The radio played Anne’s Song a few days back.
Its been more than a decade since I’ve listened to this song and I’d almost totally forgotten what it was like to listen to the most romantic song ever (not that I have a single romantic bone in my body but still)

I remember having listened to this song over ‘n over again some 14 years ago till I could sing it in my sleep (and also till the tape got stuck in our old fashioned tape-recorder which had be thrown out by my disgruntled mother who was disappointed that her 1980’s-ka tape-recorder didn’t last another decade or two.)

There are few songs that please your ears and even fewer songs that go an extra mile in making you a happy person.

Have you ever felt the need to listen to some songs over and over and over again…because of the tantalizing effect they have on you; Some songs which haven’t really been played anywhere in ages, but make you sit back and allow yourself to bask in those abandoned and disremembered tunes the moment the blessed radio or the doordarshan plays them one fine day;
Or some songs,where all you have to do is just listen to them once…and you can feel your heart smile from inside.

Music in its varied forms has always captivated me and I say this at the risk of sounding clichéd. But I, like everyone else, have a set of songs that mean more to me than just rhyming words and addictive tunes.

Paradoxical as it may sound, I don’t have any if these tracks in my lappy or my new Ipod (what better place to flaunt it than here) save one or two of them thanks to the bulk of the population that’s gaga over KK’s voice.
(that would ideally include me by the way)



My hitlist (in no particular order mind you) for eternity would be thus and will never ever be subject to change.

(Well, that’s what I always say :P)

1. Blowing in the Wind - Bob Dylan
2. Hari Tum Haro – M.S. Subhalakshmi
3. Anne’s Song - John Denver
4. The Boxer - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
5. I am a Rock - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
6. Jane Vaalon Zara -Dosti
7. Scarborough Fair - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
8. Yesterday - The Beetles
9. Vanchathonuna set to Raag Karnaranjani-sung by T.N.Seshagopalan
10. Tu hi Meri shad hai
11. Enda Mutho-By Saint Thyagaraja set to Raag Bindumalini sung by T.N.Seshagopalan
(Actually all songs by TNS but I’ll restrain myself from giving too many details)



Now will yours truly, at least now, take some efforts in loading some if not all of her favourite songs into her lappy?

Well…

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

- Bob Dylan

Lets Talk About Making an Impression

Funny what you put yourself through JUST to make a good impression.
Even funnier how things blow up on your face at the end of the day.
Life, Bah!

Picture this, my boss asks me to send one of those neat meeting invites you can create in Microsoft Outlook for a meeting over the phone, to brief me on some Client-Fundas I ought to be aware of, and in turn enlighten my team.


So ,Friday evening, the excited me fixes up a decent meeting-invite (first time you know.. )all properly worded and stuff, keeping in mind the time-zone-complexity involved in this entire scene.

Meeting for 1 hour.
11:30 am, afternoon, on Sunday.My time
2 am. His time.

Comfy for both my boss and me.He doesn’t sleep early on weekends.. he said so himself.

Nice, meeting invite accepted also.
Done.
Not bad na?

So, Saturday afternoon, I ask myself if I have to do some reading-shmeeding, just to go over the company’s policies, so that I don’t sound like a complete jerk on Sunday’s meeting.

Its all about making an impression, remember?

Its Saturday evening, and I haven’t yet bothered to read through any of the relevant pdfs in my mailbox.
Bah…Procrastination!!
Oh well, its probably genetic by now.

Saturday night.
Will not be smitten by the procrastination-bug.
Will-power.
That’s the spirit.
I read all the pdfs in my mailbox…so that I can smartly say… 'Yes Boss, I know that…Oh yes, that too' :P


Fine…apart from that, the least I can do is get a decent note-pad and a pen..that writes (That combination is a luxury in my house…trust me). And to make the call even more convenient on my side, I hunt for my long-lost earphones, so that I don’t have to tilt my head during the entirety of the call.

The checklist before I hit the sack that night….infrastructure, all set.
I’ve told my grandparents not to summon me and make me run any errands for them from 11:30 hours- 13:00 hours.
Rite, done.

Yep all set.
Am I prepared for a meeting or what!!

Sunday morning.

Yawn….stretch….yawn yawn..

Lets look at the clock....
AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!

Meeting with boss!!!!!!!!!!!
Frantic hunt for cell under the sheets….missed calls.
Missed calls!!!


Christ…I just slept through a supposed-to-be-meeting with my boss!!!!!!

As if things weren’t ‘great’ enough at work!!!

(Don’t believe me? Check the post downstairs )

I sit on my bed…...and think.
And think.

Any more smart ways to make a good impression??

Its a 'Crazy' night out there

Night!

You know, these timings sort of bring out the worst in you. No wonder God programmed all of us to sleep through this time entirely and wake up when the world is devoid of darkness.
Boy….we have one hellova focused fellow up in the skies, I tell you.

Not an axiom I’m coming up with, but with the exasperating experience I’ve had over the past 4 weeks, I think I’m entitled to form my share of judgment.

Night…There are only 3 things you can, ought to and should be doing at this time.
Sleeping……Studying… and thirdly ,well..I’ll leave that to your imagination (ahem..)But I seriously don’t think ‘work’ ought to come anywhere near this list.

People are like the skies…they turn their shades in the absence of the sun.

Wait, did I say people??

I don’t wish to make a universal statement on the global juntha. I’m not that old-and-wise to comment on Human Behaviour ‘n all.
But comment on myself…yes that I can do very well.
I’m beginning to understand myself better every day….Or, every night.
(Night shifts remember? :D)

Let the unit of measurement of Human-Tension, for this discussion, be….say, Litres.
(Might sound crazy but do bear with me..)

If the average tension level of Yours Truly, on a normal working day, be 40 litres..
Night shifts bring up my tension level to a whooping un-precedented 400 litres.

Profound self assessment over the past few weeks has lead to the final conclusion ….. that, I’m unimaginable crazy under pressure.

The funny part of all this is that…my poor project mate is having to bear the brunt of my flaky temper and eccentric idiosyncrasies.

I end up losing my cool and screaming at him every other day…and also shamelessly apologizing every other day.
Crazy crazy cycle this is .
Amazing patience this fellow has… man!!!!!!!!!


Today, …we had quite a lot of documentation to do. It was around 2:30 am….’n we still had miles left…when I totally lost it..and screamed at this Mr. Fellow for not helping me with the doc’n . This shameless act of loose temper was followed by the customary goofy apology I deliver with great ease. This time with more style and élan.

Our crazy crazy conversation goes something like
this…
(Anyone here feeling that I’m using the word ‘crazy’ more often than not )

Oh well..Koi baat nai…read on


(I walk up to this fellow’s seat)

ME: Ravi..
RAVI(eyes anticipating havoc): Ab Kya?
ME: I’m….I’m….sorry .
RAVI(Non-chalant look): Ya, I know
ME(with over-whelming guilt ): Hey..lots of documents…all unfinished business… all drove me visibly insane.
RAVI(sarcastically): Really? I didn’t notice.
ME(detecting the tint of sarcasm):Ya, Whatever. We’re ok na? Not angry or anything na?
RAVI: Ya ya..go go..do your documentation.
ME(alarmed at his shameless reply yet grateful for not being mistaken ): Ya ok..

And I go on to do documentation at some goddamn time at the middle of the night…while Mr. Fellow, is doing some non-documentation work.

That’s what I call style man.
(Or ishtyle… whatever :D)

Now I sit at home…in front of the lappy, at 5:30 am typing this mail…. Asking myself ….is life, or more specific, work, worth all that tension…and all that apology???

Really…..like what Sahil (my friend,philosopher 'n guide) says…all our problems, in a broader perspective, disintegrate to be minute atoms in the Solar System called Life… So why bother ??
We just have to remember that …In the end, it doesn’t really matter.
(Copyright: Linkin Park)

So…Tension Kai ko lene ka?

Woman's Day...or something like that

I seriously fail to understand what this day is all about.
This 'Women's Day'
Forgive me,but I really am a dumb girl.
My logic is generally acknowledged to work in the most bizarre of ways, so I don't wish to impose it on all of mankind but I still feel that I have the liberty,if not, the right,to proclaim what I'm ponddering over.

With due respect to all the women of this world (a dignified fraternity of which even I am a part of) who feel that this very day has its own significance in the calendar, let me say that I cherish this very day and I do agree,we certainly are a unique species and I don't wish to disprove or antagonize you.

But still, I go on to ask... What exactly are we trying to prove to the world here, on this special day?
The existence of women?
The importance of women?
The crucial and indispensible role we play in the circle of life?
The significance of the weaker sex?
The compassion thats an intrcate part of us??
The extent to which we can make a difference in the society?
The equality,if not the superiority, of the Women-species V's Men-species?


This is something that has always irked me on the dawn of every 8th of March, every year, ever since I was able to think clearly on my own; uninfluenced by the shadow of my parent's and society's thought processes.


Gandhi-Day, Nehru-Day, Netaji-Day..yes understandable.
You pay homage on that one day dedicated to them, bcause you certainly can't remember them everyday.
They are indeed great souls, yes, but come on, they're dead people.

But Tell me...Are women something to be remembered and celebrated on just ONE day in the calendar?
Is that ALL we are???
Somethin to be remembered?

On this day, 8th of March, We thank the woman for being who she is....
while for the rest of the year we watch, in total helplessness, man beat his wife, a child scream at his/her mom, girls harassed on streets, adults throwing their aged-parents into old-age-homes, young girls(and boys)forced into child labour, female-infantiside
We watch all of this with total indifference and non-chalance.


Women have suffered in the past and have been submissive till the dawn on the 19th century.
Yes, women didn't receive the appreciation they deserved in the past.
Yes, women were looked at with scorn and contempt, as useless memebers who could contribute nothing to the family except food and off-spring.

Now things have changed.
But only in a superficial level.

A deep look into the interior villages of India can bring the entire country to shame at the way women are looked at and treated.


Women can't be thanked on just one day.
We are beyond all that.
We have to do something more.

We ought to kick this hypocracy of 'Celebrating Women' out the door...and deal with serious matters.
Are women being treated the way they ought to be, in the real world?

Is a women free to walk out into the streets of Delhi at 11:30 pm without any element of fear?
Can a woman walk into a police station and file a complaint against one of the police-men working there...without anticipating an attack on her family the very next day?

When she can...that will be a revelation and definitely my idea of a celbreation.
That will be my 'Woman's Day'.

Untill then....we can just wait and watch.

Happy Woman's Day!
8.3.07

Helmets are a girl's best friend

Hi Logon!


(The bulk of juntha who read the first line as log-on, please take a long coffee break, come back and start all over again)

Hi Ppl...

I love my helmet!

Hope you guys are doing splendidly well this fine Friday morning!
Bet you hundred bucks that half of you readers spent at least 11 seconds this morning, on your way to work, marvelling at how fast the last one week has sped by, and how last Friday just seemed like....a few days back.
Well...Thats 'Corporate Life ' for you.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Amen to that.

I, for one, have actually stopped cribbing about my life. Cool na?
I mean....me, the goddess of complaints...NOT even bothering to make my life sound more crappier than someone else's ...wow, indeed a transformation, I might add.

Well lets just put it this way...
Splendrous architectural ambience,ravenous appetite, delicious food, money in the wallet, jovial team-mates, friendly boss, so-far-interesting job (touch wood), decent project, good pay (yeah rite!!), and enthusiastic 'ol me.....
All this sums up to form an ambitious and explosive combination.
Yeah....Thats what YOU might think...but..hehe.....I've STILL found some reasons to crib. ;)
Lets just hope that the light at the end of this tunnel is goddamn bright. ;)
More about my reason-to-crib in my next mail. (Yes, there's more where this came from)


Right....Just a few days back..... I was sitting on my living-room sofa with my legs crossed and eyes gazing at the ceiling (Legs crossed on a sofa...yes,I know I'm weird), and thinking to my-esteemed-self ...
' Ah, Life is stagnant. Stagnant indeed! You need some thrill Maythini ...Something out-of-the-blue....Something that would make you say, Oh yes....That day, god!! Remarkable! I'll never forget that day!! '

hmm....Funny how life ' misinterprets ' what you mean, in the most inexplicable of ways.
How?
Wait....I shall explain.

(I still love my helmet though)

Yesterday,after a good day at work, and a quick conversation with Takloo, I was riding my Scooty home...speeding quite a bit, unable to curtail my excitement to see my father who'd just come home on a 2 week vacation.
( Okay..not speeding a bit, quite a lot actually. 65km/hr is quite a speed for a poor two-stroke engine, called Scooty's Engine, to bear)

Nevertheless...I was just approaching my abode... When I spot a huge garbage bin at the centre of the road.

Let me quickly describe what these blessed 'Garbage bins' in Madras look like.....They are huge, unattractive, stinky, 3 feet high, 2 feet broad and 2 feet long... dark green in colour (which makes them look practically invisible at night time) and last but definitely not the least, a necessary evil.

Ok...My mind took a microsecond to register the presence of the garbage bin ahead and the fact that it was far too opaque for my Scooty to just drive through...So I make a sudden jolt to the left, to circumvent the obstacle.

But to my surprise what do I see on the road....Oil !!!
Yes, oil!
Oil spilt all over the place!!!!!

Ahhhh.....So THATs why the garbage bin was placed on the road as an obstacle...To act as a speed-braker, for people who might skid on the oil that was spilt in front of the bin.

Ah, the irony of late realisation!
Too late!

The oil had already done its job....and my Scooty skid majjjjorly with me on top of it. (Picture Hrithik Roshan in the former half of Kaho Naa Pyar Hai...Its always nice to have a dramatic effect in a story thats being narrated)

I fall..my bag falls, myScooty falls...bigggg scary fall !! People come running....blah-blah-blah!
Had bruises allover..but head, untouched, depite falling head first on the road.
My big fat ugly helmet had saved me.
Helmet saved me.
Helmet helmet helmet!!
God bless my helmet.

Helmet helmet helmet......You're something I wont forget...!!
(Think I'll compose a song and dedicate it to this incredible piece of plastic...or metal....or whatever!! )

So...How am I going to conclude this piece of blah-blah?


ONE: Be careful what you wish for. I did get my memorable day after all...But with a sadistic sort of thrill at the end...which, at the end of the day, DID make me say....Ah! That day...I will never forget! (For all the wrong reasons)

:D

TWO : Always love thy helmet.

:)

My Best Friend's Wedding

(Something I wrote a few months back…old stuff can’t hurt)

My best friend got married yesterday. Kal meri yaar ki shadi thi.

This was a special wedding for me for TWO reasons predominantly.
First of all, this would allow me to witness the most important ceremony in my precious friend's life, whom I've known ever since I began to crawl. Those were the days when she'd bite me and I'd cry.(Or was it the other way round, I don't remember).

Secondly, this was my first ever North-Indian wedding.

'The Raos and The Rathis welcome you' , read the big hoarding at the entrance. A confederation of two communities. Thats just euphemism for 'A Love Marriage'.
(I need not mention who one of these names reminds me of )


Much against all speculation, my mom gave me her usual mommy-ka-funda's on how girls nowadays, have the audocity to stand up to their parents and demand what they want(or what they think they want).
Culture this....tradition that...preceeded by the usual 'When I was a girl...' story.
I think my mom covered everything, a normal history book would cover, within those 35 minutes we travelled to the Mandap.
Moms, I tell you, have the innate ability to talk forever, regardless of you paying heed or not. (But I Still love you ma!)


We reached the mandap an hour earlier because the bride was afterall 'our' girl, and we wanted to help around the place, if not just perform the trite(usual) come-smile-eat-smile-leave routine. I found a lot of my friend's parents there, whom I hadn't seen in some gazillion years. All of the mommies gleaming in pride because all of their daughters were married off in great splendour.
What is their hurry I secretly exclaim, but who listens to me!


While I was in my own dream world, (Sahil would know what I mean ), gaping at the grandeur and the melange of colours with which the mandap had been decorated, there suddenly was an army of women cascading themselves to ME shooting out all sorts of questions,which drove me crazy,like ...
'Ah Maythini, when're you going to get married' and ' Maythini darling, your's should be the next wedding'...blah, blah blah blah blah!


I gave them one of those 'Will-your-highnesses-please-mind-their-own-businesses' look, topped with a vibrant smile just to cover my distinct exasperation, while my mom gave me a desperate look, signalling me to be polite with these aunties.
What is it with women and weddings, I ask while I shake my head in defeat.


Suddenly there's this loud drumming noise which startled the entire crowd. Really loud. And everybody goes rushing to the entryway. I go there a few minutes later to see what the crowd's flocked over there for, and I see the groom arriving on a horse. A horse!!

God..it was soooooo adorable. Really!!! Reminded me of the scene from Kuch kuch hota hai, when Salman does an entry on a donkey. :)


My excitement (considering that this was my first non-southie wedding) was clearly visible in that crowd while I was watching the 'scene' intently. Some of the ghar-ka women even let me take the front row seat in watching the celebration. Watching all the girls and women dance there, brought out an insatiable urge in me to go out there and join them in that circle, but my shy-demeanour got the better of me. (As if I'd go there and dance anyway).:)


The second phase of drumming, a few minutes later, was for the bride. She arrived in the traditional Marwadi red attire surrounded by people holding up a carpet of garlands.
God.. She looked stunningly beautiful. I'd never seen my friend is such a graceful and bewitching form before.

Man, girls grow fast!


Finally after doing a mini-chit-chat session at the mandap with the bride and the groom, I descended the alter to watch the bride walk around the whatever-you-call-it 7 times with my jiju.


This ceremony, was then succeeded by the traditional southie-styled ceremony to honour the girl's side. The contrast in these two nuptual(wedding) ceremonies was ever so striking that it set me thinking on another plane; On how varied and beautiful our country's cultures areand perhaps how EVERY girl (and fine, every boy) could have both kinds of ceremonies in their wedding. Gives the wedding a wholesome feel. As ridiculous as it may sound, it certainly looked like a whole lot of fun there. (I'll write on this, sometime during this lifetime)


My friend was getting married to the bloke she loved...something I wouldn't dare do even if you held a gun down my throat....Cheers Aruna!

So..what is my point to all this blah-blah afterall???


'Love' is a feeling, that doesn't smack you at your face when you want it to. Different people find love at different phases of their lives.
But when you think your even 'close' to falling in love, no matter how long you'veknown him/her, no matter how he/she would react... Express it explicitly...Just go for it.

Go for it like, you'd go for a chocolate brownie behind a glass panel...just plunge and indulge without second thoughts.
Trust me, you'd rather vent the feeling out of your *system* and face defeat , than live your entire life wondering what would have happened if you'd just tried.

I dedicate this mail and my arduous hours of pondering over what to write, to..

Deepak Nagar whose just got married....
Aruna (Rao) Rathi, who's unknowingly, the sole inspiration behind this mail...
Those of you in love
Those of you being loved...

Celebrate Love... the most genuine and un-pretentious fashion.

Happy Valentines Day!!

14.2.’07

Yes sir...Thats me!

Hi , welcome to my blog.

You're permitted to do some extraneous browsing while reading this cos this is my first blog and I cant promise you any nail-biting excitement. Not yet at least.
A wee bit bout me.

I did my schooling in Padma Seshadri Bala Bhavan and passed out of College of Engineering Guindy, Anna University.
I have nothing more to say about this college than what has already been said by my friends and seniors.Please don't believe a word they say.
My college rocks!
End of story.

I do like making new friends (contrary to the image I portray otherwise) but I'm afraid I cherish only a few of them. Very few of them.

I crib a lot. 'A Lot' would ideally be an understatement here.
I know that life isn't all that bad. But cribbing makes it better.

I like rainy days especially when they're a good alibi for no work. Heck...I love rainy days!

I like pink. This blog was originally pink but due to popular demand (or readers threatening to file a complaint against me for trying to impair their vision) I had to transform its theme into my next best colour, green. It wont stay this way for long I tell you.

Listening to 'Anne's Song' by Denver and 'Scarborough Fair' by Simon-Garfunkel with my eyes closed is Nirvana to me.

I'm extremely loyal to my blue Scooty and any insult to that frail 2-stroke vaahanam will not be tolerated.

I'm highly unstable. Or maybe I'm not.
Wait..Hang on a sec, I'll get back to you on this one.

I love curd rice.Any of its derivatives would make me a happy girl at the table. Period.

90% of my friends would declare that I'm a confirmed extrovert.I'd prefer to agree with the 10%.

Pink really is a very nice colour. I really think the juntha should give it a chance.

I'm weird.
Yes.
But please do close the door behind you.

I hate coming into work where no one says hi.
Its not really protocol to say hi or anything, but comeon.. its just a hi.
How impoverished would that one word leave you?


I'm grateful to my parents for not contemplating adoption when I became quite unbearable. Parenting is not that easy my mommy tells me. I pretend like I don't know why.

I think of my friends 24/7. I cant comment on that being mutual though.

I like my Fridays like everybody else. Planning for the weekend sure stirs up some excitement in me, but I hate admitting that all our plans blow up on our face.

I don't really adore animals. They're cute and shouldn't be harmed 'n all, but thats it.
Does that make me a bad person?

I always remind myself I'm not doing what I should be doing..or worse, what I want to be doing. It takes a lot of courage to do what you want to in life.
I haven't the courage, yet.

Pink looks great on women. Just like blue on men. Don't disparage this colour anymore. Thank you very much.

Sometimes swearing does lift all the smoke from inside you. Its like having a bubble-bath after a long weary day. Its just #%^#$%^@ when your mom's beside you and asks you to repeat what you just said.

I'm me.
Just another blogger.
Just another girl.
Just another person.
Just another brick on the wall.
Thats what I keep reminding myself from time to time.


Take care...and always thank the lord for the roof above your head.
Ciao!