Sandhya Renu

Dear you, please say a little prayer for me...

2011-03-14T01:07:00.000-07:00

I don't entirely know God. But I think he exists somewhere...

somewhere in the insides of a good soul and that way, maybe I do know him.

And maybe I do know him from the stories I have seen happen around..

And maybe I do know him from the love I have experienced from many...

If you are here on my page, reading this and if you do know him,

please send a little prayer...

please...

for my mom..

for I don't know how to live a life without her...

And I go on another trip - this time to kings and kingdoms...

2011-01-25T13:12:00.000-08:00

Okay. If not anything else, it does sound pretty auspicious to kick start ‘blogging 2011’with a few words on this exotic place of history, art, beauty, wealth and of course, some fine, age-old spirituality, all plaited into a beautiful, small town called Thanjavur in native fondness or Tanjore in the modern sense. I would never have had to deal with this new wisp of mine that craves to revisit the place if I hadn’t had to stumble upon on a recent episode of ‘Off the Record’ on NDTV-Hindu where this book ‘Thanjavur – A Cultural history’ that looked magnificently crafted in details and pictures, was discussed.

But then, Thanjavur (I choose to spell it like this; that way I know authenticity does not always need change with time or succumb to an easier way of dealing with) is, after all, deeply luring in the way it is built. And I say ‘built’ in the pure sense of it. A thousand years of legendary living that has evolved in the town around the iconic Brihadeeswarar periyakovil, to me, is a thing to marvel at, an experience to experience not just visit, a story to read about, a place to relish in travelogues.

Till about, well, many years ago, my only tangible memory of Tanjuvur had been this simple but aesthetically done work of a clay doll. She was a dancer, or so was dressed, about 5 inches tall, adorned with copper colored jewels, smiling in eternal bliss like she had visited heaven and befriended God; and kept nodding –which I felt at that point was a little snoopy - like she meant, ‘I know what you are thinking’. She was pretty old but the glow on her face still gleamed, like it was preserved. So in stunning dancer-like body, she came out smiling, when excavated from under the old heap of bundles of jute bags that lay cast over the attic, for I’m sure about at least a decade, at Achi’s house. It was one of those psyched up summer days and God knows all the mass of antique smelling filth I was cowered in.

Anyways, the catch always smelled better, looked better. That noon, while I beamed in pride and drowned in fantasized images of kings and palaces and dancers and mughals that came to life thru’ Achi’s stories, an awful lot was told to my adolescent pair of ears, which by the ways – I mean the stories- have now and then come into diligent suspicions of forgery. But she was a brilliant story teller at the end of the day. I couldn’t dare question that.

So, a pretty long time after that summer, I got to visit Thanjavur, this time, in real. It was probably ten years ago in a summer that brings back vivid memories of a month-long, hot and a very summery road trip I made with mom and dad. I remember us driving a long way from Pondicherry and still fuddled by the French charm of it when we arrived in Thanjavur, pretty much by dusk, tired, relieved, intrigued…

The Thanjai periyakoil deserves at least one whole day of your time – to put it briefly - if you were in some mood to go after the brilliance carved, engraved and painted across those admirably tall walls. The humongous statue of Nandi that welcomes you as you enter, kind of sets the trailer of what you can expect. But I felt, everything simply got bigger and so wondrous from that point on, that I felt the whole ‘Big Temple’, (as it’s now called) is a great story teller in itself. And then you actually get to experience for yourself, the myths and the tales about the legendary Cholas (who were architectural by taste and were the ones who built the temple) that surmounts the entire tone of the temple. Later, of course, as the kingdom (Wow – Did I just use that word!?) changed hands through other rulers, the style of life, changed or, well, evolved, so to say.

And that’s one thing classic about Thanjavur – the styles of art that evolved over the years through various dynasties from the Cholas to the Marathas to later the Mughals, are clearly evident for you to see in any real Thanjavur product available in the market– I mean – you may not find it all around the town this day(but of course, right!?), but if you went to an original Thanjavur art gallery, the diversity in their range of instruments, books, tapestries, ornaments, décor is quite – I don’t know – ‘exquisite’ - for lack of a better word.

This temple we are talking about here is way more than a place for spirituality. She's pure art. She’s a part of the UNESCO World heritage site, she’s abode to the tallest temple tower in the world and she just celebrated her glorious thousandth birthday! I don’t even own a good piece of book that authentically brings out the beautiful old tales of so many mystic truths about this town. Now, isn’t that reason enough to do something about my sense of appreciation for art? Of course ! So I sign into Amazon, in hurried temptation and sweet reminiscence of good old summer trips, to order myself a copy of this famous book they were talking about on NDTV and holy cow! What did I find? A well reviewed, beautiful looking title priced at a MODEST $109.50 !! So I sigh, try and convince the 30 minute old art lover inside me that it’s probably not all that worth it and sign out, promising never to think about it again.

But seriously, a 109 dollars ??? That sets another record of having found the most expensive history book I ever wanted to buy- not that I am fond of collecting history books, but I'm just saying. Well, anyways, you know, I’m fine. Thank you very much!

Oh, and one more thing – there’s a great place just around to try out one of the most amazing Chicken Biriyanis. Ever.That, you know, however doesn’t really go with the sanctity of this post, so I’ll come back to it later.

If not movies, what could the world use to connect Spain and maybe Mauritius?

2010-12-18T02:19:00.000-08:00

The most beautiful things in life are inexplicably simple. They remain the most basic to human existence, which is why even in today’s times of celestial changeovers, love stories still work. In a pounding tone of a testament, arrived early this year, one such movie that will stay for a very long time to come in the hearts of movie lovers. By the middle of a snowing December, as I watched ‘Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya’ again in remembrance of the best movie experiences of the year, I realized, I almost let the year pass by without making a memoir of the ones that were so heartily endearing this year.

2010, of course, saw some dynamic flashes of – as they say - contemporary cinema. From the gigantic Avatar to the simple and brave Udaan to the heart touchingly simple and real ‘Angaadi Theru’ to Toy Story to the most recent masterpiece, Social Network, 2010 undeniably did its share of filling our ever evolving quest to experience good cinema. I am sure there were other great ones that I missed. So I won’t rate them in any potential order, not even in order of my personal preference. They all belonged to different kinds. But I guess what I am trying to say here is that, of the entire lot, Vinnaithaandi varuvaaya, to me, seems the simplest, the oldest, the most impactful.

It’s amazing the kind of effect this outrageously clichéd subject of the Goddamned love can have, again and again and again and yet again on people. I mean, who else other than us, Indians would know better how many million times have they tried to show in million bizarre ways, what love was!? But, it still works. Amazingly. In a strange, illogical, beautiful way. I couldn’t help but smile in contented agreement, after watching this movie, that, even by the turn of the first decade of the 21st century, there’s nothing more that fills our heart than some good, old fashioned love. It’s probably corny but hell, it’s true.

This is in tribute to one such good work of cinema. In a way, it’s nice to wrap this year up on a note of love – it may not be the best movie of all time but it’s certainly going to be a beloved. The way the love happens in the movie, the way it does not after a point in time, the music and the perfect little ending where they let the love be what it was and move on to life is perhaps the story of every other someone you will find by the curb of the street.

Because we’ve all been in love or will be or are hoping to be and would still hate it and love it at the same time for a thousand beautiful reasons.

Madurai - there's a lot more to it

2010-12-14T20:34:00.000-08:00

                  Today, while the evening is sinking under an outrageous temperature of -4 degree Celsius, and I have nothing but a dead old plate of lettuce to consider for dinner, I am dreaming about one of the most heartwarming feasts I have ever – I’m sure – had.

It was sometime by the wry end of an Indian summer when we were on a road trip by the lustrous looking, newly smartened up NH7. If you had been driving long over the same road during the pre-makeover days, you will know what I am talking about. The new NH7 is a driver’s perfect Indian dream. So, anyways, after what seemed like a glide of a ride from Nagercoil to Madurai, we hunted around – late in the night - utterly famished – but still unwaveringly unanimous (all of us and that was quite rare) - for this little, old place that – stories said – was a rare treasure to a food lover’s soul.

Hmm..so we did arrive at this dreadfully rusty looking, almost invisible (no boards, no flashing lights!) rugged building that stood on not more than 500 sq feet of ground in its entirety which included the family room, of course - the only one, about 5 * 5 (I’m serious), in size, which by a hair's breadth could seat about six hungry people.

We looked around and beamed in pride - We were at the unbelievably popular(for the what it looked like) ‘Konar Mess’.

With the infamous stories we had been religiously collecting about the restaurant, we were not surprised. Not even when we saw a string of dimly lit wagons along the whole street outside Konar Mess, in which, we later heard, the big wigs of the Madurai circle (dons/dhadhas included) dined. Uh –uh! I think we were far too starving for any surprises.

When the table was, at last filled with what we had been craving to see, in sheer glee, we let our tongues drop flat onto our plates. And then followed an evening of a south Indian delight of meat!

          My favorite was the Kari dosai – a kind of ghee-roasted dosai with fried, spicy, minced mutton filling – the most popular pick of the menu. To soften the crispness, Kari dosais are traditionally accompanied by a small bowl of mutton gravy – simple and authentic. As we began nibbling those pieces of wonder down, we let a gush of pride roll over in honor of the experience.

So then I dived into what was considered yet another sin-not-to-have by the Konar-mess-lovers-club. So next appeared on the table, a plate of steamed idiyappam with the accompaniment of a bowl of Mutton Chukka (Mutton Chukka varuval to call it, in native fondness) that rather smelt like a tangible mesh of the best assortment of south Indian spices.

It looked dark, rough, kinda jagged but tender to touch. It was not the typical chukka I had believed I was a fan of. There was definitely a secret ingredient, I could just smell it.
I didn’t ask; didn’t feel up to it. But ever since, I almost gave up ordering chukka elsewhere.

Ohh! And - Of all the bites of intoxications we blissfully indulged in, that night, Mutton Kheema (I can’t precisely remember more details of what I ate this with) deserves a pat on the back too. It wasn’t my order and by the time I wanted to, they ran out of it.

            That’s one grave misfortune Konar mess can mercilessly inflict upon you. You need to be quick enough to let the orders move in to your table. They vanish from the pantry at the blink of an eye and you do not want to go through the depression of watching the last plate land up on your neighbor’s table.

As a traveler that cannot just hop onto Madurai every other day, trust me, that, can be pretty heartbreaking!

There can only be one king, the others either retire or aren't good enough, yet

2010-11-20T23:36:00.000-08:00

It’s a cold Saturday night in November, a little past one. Some weekends, I don’t really like to sleep. Not quite early. So in a pretty romantic spirit, I wandered around my living room and slowly into rugged thoughts and eventually, when I was badly in need of some source of sound, I ended up rummaging thru’ the collection of music I fondly made this year. Not many. Just about three to four, thru’ the entire (well, almost the entire) year. The most beautiful of it was the cover of ‘Vinnaithaandi varuvaaya’ – such a pretty poster, it brings a smile of love to even the most unromantic. I played the newest in the list – the unplugged version of ‘Aaromale’ in the mesmerizingly classic voice of Shreya, released in the collector’s edition of the album, last weekend.

                    I had listened to it, maybe three times since it came out. But tonight, alone in the living room, with just a faded incandescent bulb in stunning silence, I could literally feel the song simply fill – and I really mean it when I say ‘fill’ - every ounce of air in the room. It runs about four minutes and a half, with a subtle violin and a few underplayed strokes of guitar in the backdrop. The first time, it felt different. The second, it felt completely different. It’s amazing how Rahman’s music transforms into totally new sounds of art during nocturnal hours. I played it a third time. And a fourth and maybe about ten more times.

                  When it finishes and leaves you at the hem of the silence again, it kind of rings - maybe resonates from the inside and the only thing you feel up to is going back to it and experience the strange, unearthly feeling all over again. It's, in a way, bizzare. Such a simple piece of tune, taking your entire, musically challenged mind all the way to a cosmic, perhaps, godly place.

                Many a time, especially during such hushed nights, when I listen to Rahman’s tunes, I feel a strange - I don’t know if it’s right to say, but – sort of a connection. In what way, I have no clue. But I just feel it. It’s like reading your favorite author and you kind of know the words that would follow in the next line.

Perhaps, one could never explain what magic Rahman's music unfailingly carries. As a raw soul that practically grew up listening to Rahman, I think this is what it means, in a personal sense, to me   -

Without music, we would have but been a mere ensemble of flesh and other anatomical parts.
Without Rahman, we would have but been mere victims of rusting commercialism of music, Indian and western.

The most beautiful time - quite literally !

2010-11-18T18:55:00.000-08:00

In my list of 100 awesome things to do in life, I think this should show up somewhere in my top ten – the feeling you get out of the entire experience of destination-less driving during the time of the gorgeous fall. I mean - nothing but mindboggling colors all around. It’s like a dream, only absolutely real!

How do I describe this? Hmmm…Imagine how you might feel when you blend in softened sweet butter with cream and caramel to strawberries? Hmm..not a very fair equivalent, there.

But the leaves! My God! What the hell happens to them around this time? They wither so beautifully and blow around the town in - here's the magical part - yellow and burnt orange and deep red and purple and faded pink and ...

anyways, sometimes, when the feeling measures off to a strange, unexplainable place, I don't get any words in my throat. This, I guess, almost makes one such hell of a feeling. So I would rather stop and simply say -

They die so gracefully, I mean the leaves, that it melts your heart and makes you want to bottle them up !

It's that time of the year, again.

2010-11-16T08:45:00.000-08:00

The calendar is probably one thing you should never look at if the age-old adage ‘Time and tide wait for none’ fills your stomach with a viral guilt. Didn’t we just step into this year, like, a few days ago ?? Hmm..a few three hundred days ago, I guess. On an unenthusiastic personal point, this time of the year can get extensively antisocial with my psyche – speaking out of several exemplified instances of alarming personal examples.

My brain just retards and goes on maybe a long drive to live with the sea turtles where it doesn’t return from until probably Christmas, when there’s better scope for emotionally engaging activities like eating more slices of cake than any other time of the year. I run away from my cell phone. My reading interests practically die. I live on hot chocolates until they make me sick and watch more movies than ever, from under the blanket. I wear mournfully old, pathetic shoes that have dingy, dangling stuff (who even makes them anymore?!). My writing however bounces back in a renewed psychological spirit which utterly frightens me. (You see? Another exemplified instance of alarming personal example).

I think I should be more interested in deeper introspections under such times but what basically happens, I guess, is that I simply hibernate.

So, it’s that time of the year. Again. And no matter how much I listen to Greenday or Hoobastank, it’s still gonna be a lousy winter. At the end of the year though, I am gonna bounce back with a terrific contradiction of what a beauty it is to end the year with a snowy christmas.

At Book People, this weekend

2010-10-10T18:37:00.000-07:00

- Reading and signing ! Here’s to what started to seem like almost a meltdown - Three cheers and keep them coming in more spirited bottles, God.

So, all you (which is - only very,very few as of this date) people that I know in this still alien but beautiful town of Richmond, please find your way to the store at five on Saturday.

So, I guess, see you there, right?

Book People, Richmond, VA

ENDHIRAN – The pre-experience fiesta!

2010-09-28T17:37:00.000-07:00

And the countdown to what better be(!) a feverish cinematic experience has kicked itself off in all the glorious spirits – I’ve decided to run pretty high along!

Because, here’s what I am ready to binge in – our ego – in all logical sanity –does deserve a second chance after the Sivaji debacle(! - again) – Here’s my freakish why – And all this is besides another irresistible, self-invited attempt at pulling out that spare neuron out of Shankar’s brain (which we believe he’s born with). It’s a movie-lover thing that we simply cannot go blind over !

Anyways-

One-and the safest bet of all - Shankar’s sensibilities – we are hoping against hope that he did sit over his book of learning while the world was recessing, on what went wrong with his last experiment with, well, the almost same team . If he tragically didn’t, God save his divine status quo in the critics books.

Two-and this has to be the trump – the world class team involved – from the visual creators of Avatar (and terminator! and Jurassic park!) to our very own masters of the soil – Rahman and the late Sujatha .

Three – One of the best thinkers Tamil Cinema sadly had to let go of – the late Sujatha’s writing - So this movie ought to live around a story despite the gig and the unavoidable need to cater to the mass. It was born out of Sujatha’s head, something that has not often gone wrong.

Four – And Finally – the demigod himself ! This probably could make one of the last sparkling moments of the incredulous journey of RajniKanth, the phenomenon, no other star has experienced. I’m touting for Endhiran for a very good chance for the man to begin his humble sign off from limelight. So, give us a last Rajni- experience while you can and move around as you hear younger voices (but still the claps). Maybe you are done. Almost!

And lastly – here’s what we might be missing – Sujatha’s dialogues. A better cinematography (not that Rathnavelu could go bad under such expectation but where did Ravi K Chandran or P.C Sreeram have to go!?) and the classic Thotta Tharani !

I will keep away from commenting on the music. For those who had to hiss under the breath(like me) in devastated expectations, come on, it’s Rahman, after all and he does need to make compromises with a Rajni film. But who knows? It might just get grander on screen.

In utter and complete hope that my spirits hold up high, in the same (if not higher) ecstasy, after I come out of it all, I am going back to the syndrome now.

If it lets me down, I am gonna give up on nobody but you, Shankar – YOU !!!!

Another sweet review

2010-09-18T18:53:00.000-07:00

- from Sarah Norkus, author of Eleventh Summer(which is a very beautifully told tale of a painful childhood), Until the wind changes and now The Secret Diary of Sarah Chamberlain.

- 'Really enjoyed reading 'Sugar Spring Tales'...very good introspective writer. I could feel the joy, anger, or pain of the characters through their thought processes. My favorites stories were Autumn Leaves and Train Tales.
Renu has a gift for writing and I look forward to reading more.'

A deeply felt word of 'Thanks' to you, Sarah !!!

eleventhsummer

'Pasanga ' - a native gem

2010-09-15T19:26:00.000-07:00

Some movies paint some long lasting love over your heart – for the simplicity, for the huge heart they carry and for, as we say, the simple goodness in their soul.

This wonderful little movie ‘Pasanga’, with its small-home-big-heart theme, found its way straight into the favorites of 2009, after winning so many hearts and now the national award.

I'm feeling a heartfelt sense of joy – it’s a movie that gives you an earnest trip back to those simple roots of living!

Way to go, Kollywood !

*

Forget 'title', what's that thing?

2010-09-13T23:14:00.000-07:00

I haven’t met anyone or experienced anything in the last four hundred odd hours that could have stood the remote chances of throwing in some random seeds of inspiration in me.

I feel blank.

Yup. After about twenty minutes in plain, blank nothingness to drag to this line, I’m convinced I do. What am I waiting for? An angel to slide down the sky and hand me a magic wand and kiss me in the forehead !? Gosh. For God’s freaking sake.

But actually, as a matter of everyday thing, what sort of sign is it when you have checked sleep out that door on a cool, moonlit night, because you wanted to spend some time in the living room listening to Savage Garden with a bowl of hash browns, but the song that a decade earlier sent warm butter across your heart, does – nothing, now and you realize, to shitty misery, that you have been scraping that empty bowl too long.

Honestly, what are we supposed to do when the infamous inspiration is hiding under the dead? - Mine might have slipped right off my wrist.

Sorry, I’m running fatally low.

No. I just ran out, actually

*

And things do move on ..

2010-08-29T08:23:00.000-07:00

A few words from the first glorious review of ‘Sugar Spring Tales’, from the ceremonious hands of Linda Heinrich, author of Jason’s Helmet.

- just finished reading the book. Wow! It was delightful. At first I had a problem with the adult endings, but after awhile I enjoyed sitting back and letting my mind wonder about what would happen next in the lives of these characters.

After we left Richmond, we drove to Toledo and then to Charleston, West Virginia. I read to my husband while he was driving. He enjoyed the stories also. I can certainly see this book in a gift shop.
...

Linda – Here is a clichéd but genuinely heartfelt ‘Thanks’ for all the encouragement and most importantly the kind smile you carried when I first got to meet you.

Visit Linda Heinrich here.

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It's good to halt every so often before moving on..

2010-08-24T22:03:00.000-07:00

"If we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny"
- quoted from the movie 'Serendipity'.

Sometimes, life takes you on a beautiful trip to places where you’ll find yourself. And you’ll discover a little something that nobody knows about you, but yourself. And when it happens, against all audacities you have ever clung on to, the best and the only thing you can do is throw your arms up in the sky and let everything that’s supposed to happen – happen, beautifully.

New York City is one such sign of a dream that merrily smiles back at you in all the right spirits of life, with such passion that a tear of hope will occur to even the most unbelieving of hearts. Amidst and under the overwhelming dreams of millions of souls that step into this city for making life bigger or to bask in the sheer joy of experiencing the seductive charm of the place, this glorious city is a woman who is artistically majestic, classic and tender – like she’s warmly taking you into her palm, giving you all that you had hoped for. And you feel alright about everything. Yet again.

It felt like some abstract beautiful life again to live thru’ this one week of some of the very best and the most exhilarating moments I’ve had in a long while. Falling in love, all over again, is probably what had happened.

Here’s to this little city of the world, that is romantic in the pure sense of what it means .

Here’s to life and all the little stops we make by those destinies that were waiting for us to arrive.

Here’s to love -

Video - Northern Sky - Beautiful Moment

*

Of life and its tentacles..

2010-08-08T22:06:00.000-07:00

.... Had been at the much hyped Hanover Book Festival, this Saturday. Typically lived up. Exactly like the end of other much hyped sensations that leave us like thawed peas – pale and wrinkled ! But there is one thing I came back home with. Met, among a bunch of others who had a platter of books to their credit, the lovely and warm Sarah Norkus, author of the successful ‘Eleventh Summer’ and the graciously sweet Linda Barron Heinrich, author of ‘Jason’s Helmet’. Both Sarah (Sally, as she is fondly called) and Linda accepted copies of ‘Sugar Spring Tales’ for an honest review and almost moved me to dramatic edges of surprise by offering me signed copies of their hugely successful books as – here’s the brilliant part – a token of encouragement!

Spending more hours walking around the tables of authors like – gulp! – Joanne Liggan (who also organizes the event every year) than at my own, kind of unshackled the staggering tensions of a newborn. It’s a big, big world of millions of brilliant writers! Save my dreams, dear Lord !!

In other news, I’m psyched up (in an uncertain way) about what the world is raving about. ENDHIRAN. Sure, I can’t help jiggling over kilimanjaro. And Boom Boom fires up some wildly cosmic imaginations under my nose. Yet, here's the thing - While I’m bobbing my head in utter defiance to every Rahman-loving soul, I can’t help the shagged doubts underneath. Remember the gig around Sivaji? I’m hoping Sankar did attend his classes on learning from your own mistakes.

AND - My blog needs a visit to the spa. A tired looking daisy hanging around the Babylon of a mud-brown backdrop is just not happening!

*

For the love of Cinema.

2010-07-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

When I had nothing exhilarating to do on a not so happening Monday evening, I let my fingers rummage through an old carton stacked with DVDs, rusted and shagged. Out came a few, in dusty masses of dirt, strands of my long curly hair and an ancient stole. It must have been left in abandonment for, well, a really long time, because I couldn’t remember using that stole and the curly strand of hair brought some weird nostalgia of days spent over cursing my hair.

So, I dug in deeper and picked a random plastic case which under the same dispersion of dust, read, ‘Khamoshi – The musical’. It had a poster of Salman Khan and Monisha Koirala, smooching. And despite the presence of Nana Patekar’s too-realistic-to-be-romantic face on the same frame, the poster somehow made up to appear romantic. There was a time when I loved this movie, so dearly. There was a time when I would come home from school and play its music, every evening for an entire month. And then one day, I couldn’t take ‘bahon ki’ or ‘Aaj me ooper’ anymore; so I moved onto other fascinations. Thirteen years later, simply glaring at that picture was still a warmth-inducing feeling. I did not end up watching ‘Khamoshi – The musical’ that evening. Over years, it has slowly glided out of my all time favorites though sometimes during conversations about good Bollywood, I still love to say ‘I love Khamoshi’.

Movies have been quite a staple of a food in my life. In everybody’s life, I suppose. There are some, I love, love and love. On this piece of random blog rambling today, I thought I’ll remember a few of those, in honor of my ‘love, love and love’ for ‘em.

The list is not complete; there's a few more I have adored, loved and love to love. I can't believe I haven't included 'Alaipayuthe', 'Anbe Sivam', 'Jurassic Park', or ' Christmas Carol', perhaps for the lack of words(and space) (and your time) to describe the beauty.

Not sorted in any particular order.

1. Anjali

The first movie to ever leave me struck with wonder of what movies were all about. I came out of the theatre, in tears which warmly remained so for a long time afterward. As an eight year old kid, I didn’t quite understand or pay detailed attention to the beauty involved in this cult Maniratnam-craft. All I knew was that I wanted to go, watch this movie again, smile, rejoice and come out of the theatre yet again in tears which I did, after a week and some hardboiled cries of plea at dad’s knees. With abundance of great cinematography, music, dialogues and the essence of Maniratnam’s portrayal of human emotions, twenty years and probably about several hundreds of movies later, Anjali still stands rich and classic in my list of favorites.

2. Roja

For everything about it. And there is one thing I want to put outside and beyond the word ‘everything’ here– THE MUSIC. With Roja broke out a volcanic eruption of a new era of music. But I had no idea. It was simply customary in our family to watch a Maniratnam movie; so we went. You know, though some Maniratnam movies arguably do not stand completely honest for a ‘family’ watch (with the erotic pudhu vellai mazhai, Roja was strictly outside a PG-consideration), we nevertheless did go. Dad had said he read some rave reviews about the music. I was still humbly naïve then to have asked who the music was by. After the movie, we went straight to an audio shop and did ourselves a favor by investing in the audio cassette that went on to make history in world music. Every household in my neighborhood, Tamilian or not, music lover or not, dutifully added Roja to his/her treasury of music. And every time I watch this movie, there is one thing that slightly gets more handsome than Aravind Swamy and more attractive than Santosh Sivan’s gorgeous landscapes and better than Maniratnam himself – the music that I am still head over heels in love with.

3. Titanic

But, of course!! If there are souls in this world who do not like Titanic, I respectfully think they could be probably psychopathic, blank, selfish or antisocial. Even if you were all that, you would still want to bow to the magnificence hiding behind Cameron’s multi million dollar head. I mean, it’s TITANIC.

4. Dil Chahta Hai

I remember watching this movie on a girl’s night out, at a friend’s place, through silent, wee hours of the night, over casual conversations. Over the first few minutes of the movie, we stopped conversing; only occasionally opening our mouth to let out a chuckle, a mild gasp or a content smile. The silence carried on heavily in my mind long after the movie was over. And I am honest to God when I say this – the next morning when I woke up, I emerged better a person; I wanted to start life all over again, Dil Chahta Hai style. It still helps me resort my thinking when I know I have to break off the pessimism that sometimes clutters up in life and restart. If you are reading this and haven’t seen this movie, I beg you with folded hands to do so. And do so every time life sulks. It’s worth every second.

5. Ratatouille

For the magic, movies can make us experience!!For the beauty of colors ! For the love of animations we all grew up on ! For the lusciousness of the sexy Italian food ! For the beauty of Remy !For the love of the genius called PIXAR ! For the love of cinema !

*

Any particular word to describe this ???

2010-07-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

You know, just as you think you have eventually made it to slowly bounce out of the phase of your life that was smitten by doubts and fears and questions , there surely comes another point, virtually looking like a gasp of fresh breath but ruthlessly restoring the same doubts, fears and the same itchy questions, into your soul.

Great people leap through it, to greater heights, to better places in life where they would later preach about how determined they stuck through to win over the bloody hiccups (basically, I’m guessing , it’s the same cloud of fears and doubts and questions).

But what about the not-so-great people? What about people like me, who life likes to dabble with, quite generously? What happens in stories like mine?

I’m talking about this book I wrote which I went wandering in the streets of publishing world with, seeking people who might just want to take a look at what the shit I am gabbling away about. Who cares? The world is fast becoming faster and slow heads like me - I mean, how fast do I have to run?

Well, ‘The Reading’ at the writers club this weekend went okay, literally. Because all I could manage, within the realms of my limited capability was to READ and sell – here’s the freakiest part – ONE copy of ‘Sugar Spring Tales’. I mean, ONE !!?? Out of a whole bunch of people who nodded away ?? And I had these fantasies of….

….well, anyways, let me not get deeper. Life is bloody strange.

Later back home, as I couch-ed my aching soul under a blanket, with a huge red bowl of microwaved popcorn on a particularly somber Saturday evening, making up to watch ‘How to lose a guy in ten days’, one of my old-town buddies pops up on the phone, saying, as-a-matter-of-factly, ‘Look, I ordered your book and all that, but if it is gonna end up being anything like your soppy blog, I’m gonna have you refund.’

How soppier could life get?

“I’m just kidding. Let’s hope your book is unlike you.” She chuckles.

But, like Julie Powell, in her book says, ‘Can we NOT look at the brighter side, for once, please?’

Will be reading ..

2010-07-12T09:45:00.000-07:00

..and hopefully signing at the Chesterfield Writer's club this saturday (Jul - 17th).

If I pick myself up to the point of holding a sale record of five copies that day, I would come back home to a toast !!!

In other news, a few good souls did actually order my book online. How can I tell you that I'm trying my best to remain humble on my ass while the spirits are soaring up in the sky !!!

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you !!!

Sugar Spring Tales

2010-07-05T16:32:00.000-07:00

is now available on Amazon -
http://www.amazon.com/Sugar-Spring-Tales-Sandhya-Renu/dp/1451537204/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1278472345&sr=1-1

Also, on createspace -
https://www.createspace.com/3438540

Please, please, please - buy a copy - You won't be utterly dissapointed - I promise !!

Are you listening ?
Anyone ????

Life – a dream down !

2010-07-01T21:38:00.000-07:00

It feels crazy, sort of emotionally destabilizing ! In the past twenty eight years, six months and twenty seven days, if there has been something that I was unbelievably sure of, it is this simple dream that I dreamt, over and over, night after night, so many times. And today, as I am writing this, that dream is quietly sitting next to me, folded into 160 pages, covered in an angel white glossy wrapper, titled ‘Sugar Spring Tales’. I don’t exactly know what is going through my mind. As I said, it’s kind of weird. But this experience of a year of writing and living with that dream has been liberating, heart-wise.

SO – that is that ! But after tones of hopelessly optimistic calls to various book stores, libraries and book fests around my new town, I came to terms with the fact that nobody damn wants to buy it. I will hang on though – her highness pride is something I have decided to let other times have of.

The book will be available on Amazon from next week for $5.99.
As for this moment, it is sitting for owners on

https://www.createspace.com/3438540

So buy it, if you feel like it. Please.
It only finds meaning at the reader's hands.

Would make a big deal of difference to my life - real big !

Meantime, I shall wander around the streets of hopeville, to find that gracious soul who would, for a change, smile, when I tell him, "I am a freaking new author. Could this lame soul please have a little room amidst these millions of books written by masters and geniuses ?"

If life is beautiful enough for that to happen, I will let you know.

At the very last, Thanks to you for reading this, for reading some of the most horrendous but true ramblings I made you read ! And Thanks if I have succesfully sowed in you, a feeling to just damn buy it.

CoFfEe Is NoT mY CuP Of TeA !

2010-06-04T08:03:00.000-07:00

- or so to say for a filler !

As on today, life is like the weather at the Smoky Mountains - hazy, with a tiny glint of oblivious adventure !!
Who knows where I'll land up next...

'Aaromale' - Hey, you CANNOT miss this one !

2010-02-19T15:06:00.000-08:00

I am sucked in - straight to the bottom of some cosmic world (or whichever world people go into while like, in serious meditation or filling themselves with sinful alcohol or anything as indulging). This stunning song, from 'Vinnaithandi Varuvaya’ is to blame for!!!

Deeply a sad song and the instruments cry along. But unbelievably, as they say, soul stirring ! Alphonse has simply wrung his soul out to this song. It's a hushed cry of love - will only get into you with repeated listening - but that's typical of Rahman. The entire album is typically Rahman - experimental, over the coup, subtle (as it is becoming lately), slightly playful !

Go - sit in the middle of a silent night, with a pair of great speakers (you don't want to miss out the magic of the instruments) playing out Aaromale – it’s a freaking piece of seductive pleasure! Good Lord! This is pure experience of music!

Thank you, Rahman. Thank you for hanging in there for a staggering 18 years and still being - sweetly - The Best!

The aftermath of snow can leave you in strangled moods

2010-02-12T21:27:00.000-08:00

There are days when you feel absolutely fine with your life and there are other times when you couldn’t care less. And it’s not like being torn between a scrumptious looking chocolate parfait and pineapple flavored cheesecake, on a rare trip to your favorite restaurant. I mean, that’s a very difficult choice.

But if on a Friday night, after the neighborhood has cuddled into sleep, you are skimming through pages of an age old book that hasn’t made any sense to you, so far, but you hang on to it anyway, with some Ilayaraja songs playing from youtube and the endorphins haven’t quite come to work yet, strange for a Friday, then something just doesn’t feel right. I have never been an Ilayaraja-person. And if a book doesn’t engage me after 20 pages, to heck with it, I am done. For over a couple of seasons, I have been arguing with my own abilities to think right, find what I want. If it’s change that’s at the door, buzz off, I am not ready yet. And if it’s age, excuse me, can you not see that I am trying to make something out of my twenties before they become just rustic pieces of a photo album?

I guess some things don’t really care for your opinion. Age, for instance. But maybe, you can play around with the choices, like deciding to embark on a scavenger hunt, looking for your dreams. Some things utterly confuse me. For example, me. Why would I still want to run away from the idea of becoming a mother, after almost four freaking years of dwelling in holy matrimony? That’s weird, if you are brought up in a society that equates being thin to underprivileged financial standing. My friend's mother stared at me in disgust, followed by faint pity, like she just discovered that I had been undergoing treatment for mental impairment, when I told her I hadn’t thought about babies, yet. Is it entirely my fault that all my cousins and friends (well, almost) just came back pregnant after about two months of being married? I mean, that’s just not fair on me!

But under such scenarios, what I think works, is just sigh your agreement. Sometimes, in utter honesty. Like the song ‘ tendril vanthu ennai thodu’ that is making some kind of magic out of my speakers, right now. It belonged to the eighties, probably seventies. It’s Ilayaraja. It’s from a movie I haven’t seen. But what the hell? It’s just a brilliant piece of art. And it makes perfect sense during these random after-dark hours on a Friday. There’s no arguing with that!

Resolutions - I am gonna stay away from them this year

2010-01-18T13:12:00.000-08:00

Alright – I shouldn’t be totally let down here. I go out of my inconsistent way every once in a while to get consistent. Failing at it invariably is a sad but true story of my life – that’s fine, for now. But as the year cracks open – wait, it’s a new decade and everything, I am going to pull my socks up and do what I believe God knocked into me because he knew I almost suck at everything else. Let me start this year off with a ‘Thank you’ for making myself believe I have something I could, may be, kind of, sort of, do – writing!

And this time, I am shredding the horizons. This blog has been a starter, most wonderfully! And I hope I don’t let it die. Blank spaces, make better alternatives for a canvas done not so well, so I shouldn’t be bothered about having let this blog stay blank while I was undergoing creative impairments.

Okay – First things first. 2010 has been officially marked as the ‘dream year’ in my diary. For one reason, I have picked up the guts, shedding all my fears and diffidence and questions and some more of them to become an AUTHOR !!!!!

I am just hoping it’s not too early to put this out here. But those of you who do check this blog out (I know that’s not gonna be more than five or six or seven or may be eight, but sadly not more), please wish me luck. I need oodles of them!!! I am gonna try and fill in my progress up here.

So if things go blessedly well, by spring, I will have in my hands, a little something that I will keep near my pillow for the rest of my life – MY BOOK !!!!

Happy New year, guys !

Wake Up Sid, for God's sake !!

2009-11-21T23:07:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while you need a movie – a good movie, that’s like a warm bowl of soup to soul – that has slices of baked veggies, meat to chew and rich broth to fill your heart in the right places.It stimulates, embraces and brings back to life the cells inside us that we often forget the existence of. And then it reminds us of those small moments that slowly become worthy enough to be called ‘Life’. There, if you come to realise, lie silently inside, so many little such cells that we leave behind with every birthday. And in this big, big world, sadly, I have no many reasons to believe such movies come by that often.

What’s new? Umm, nothing. Two people no different from you and I, yet beautifully different from each other. So? Umm, nothing again except that I can vouch for my belief here that, everyone, anyone can see a bit of him/herself in one of the protagonists of the movie. A phase in life that unwittingly transitions life from a frivolous and a safe place which had friends and fun and truck loads of ease over to a more thorny, duller looking world surrounded by people who you sometimes can’t believe are part of your daily life. Can we please agree on that?
If you haven’t yet, please grab a DVD (if newer movies took over in theatres), or – hate me for suggesting this - sneak into a pirated weblink ‘coz for heavens sakes, we need such movies.

In other news – my ipod is obliged to be nicer to me for getting featured in 3 consecutive posts for I got it richer by a song – ‘iktara’ from this movie. Some songs strike gold in your ears and dangle like ear-rings wherever you go .
Beautiful one !

In the crust of a sleepless night.

2009-11-19T13:28:00.000-08:00

I am wandering around my tiny living room at 3:56 AM. Have been up since 2, I guess.

Pigged out on a bowl of left-over grapes, read for an hour, reloaded my ipod and arrived at being clueless to what else I could do, trying to keep at the nightly hush, so I don’t disturb my peacefully sleeping husband. I admit, sometimes I doubt my own levels of cerebral stability. I just like to call it, umm, let’s just say - hyper.

There are times you completely want to immerse in yourself – trying to redo the basic stuff that you thought you were made of and man, there has been a handful of moments when I have felt the desperate need from the roots of my heart to rebuild my entire self, all over again. This is one such phase, I just know it. What has changed is my ability to respond to such moments. That I no longer linger around my bed fighting sleep or being a mute spectator to meticulously detailed free shows my mind offers, about my life or just numbly laying there, terrified to move, glaring into darkness for, god, a bad long time, is a change that has merrily swung by. I am surprised I could ramble into the kitchen, hunting for a midnight snack, or open my laptop and write away the thrill of living thru’ such hours or simply settle to a couch with a book that makes me want to smile between lines.

What’s intriguing is that even at his hour, I am not in constant hunger to go back and have what I never did, in the first place. That’s untypical of me. How many people can say that? :)

This tiny red thing that changed my perspective of relationships

2009-11-17T15:18:00.000-08:00

My ipod is in failing health – or it just resorted to pretend that way until I show mercy to reload it with a breather of changed tunes.
I had come to this full-blown understanding after I unearthed it beneath the fairly thickly coated carpet underneath the mattress underneath the blanket underneath the comforter. There’s no way I could have dumped it this deep even during my plainly semi-conscious, nocturnal moments where music is the only thing that shares my bed. Sometimes I get this feeling that this cute little, two-year old red fixation has gotta be the bravest companion I can count on through days I just want to pull my hair out, for it has survived the most malicious attacks from the hottest barbeque sauce to being run over to soap-soaked bath tub to obsessive playing to reeking laundry bags. Actually, it has gone thru’ much more.

There are things that become part of your body – count the cell phone out but my ipod has become something I can’t be without, even if I’m not plugged to it – I just need to know that it’s quietly lying in there, in my bag. It’s like having in your pantry, the oldest wine in town – humble smugness!
Now that I do comprehend its feelings, I have to respect what it needs the most – some redoing of its musical matter!

Leave the hitches of technological advancements to people that suck at being able to have the sheer fun of it - Man, you have to have an ipod.

Square peg..

2009-11-13T07:12:00.000-08:00

alright, in a round hole – Me in every clearly describable sense of it!

It’s petrifying to see how people bend themselves to round-er pegs to fit in more easily, some even go out of shape. I should just quit giving away pieces of time and much larger peaces of mind to extended families who think the nicest thing to say to me is how a respectable woman my age should already be a mother or at least pregnant and how they think your avant-gardism is clearly heretical and a path to failure.

Honestly, I am quite with them on the being-confused part. But, really, who isn’t? Living in an already explosively-populous world where you get to hear at least a couple of breaking news every month, of some one your mom knows, getting pregnant and trying to reassure your mind of simply staying steer-clear can be stressful !

The world is round! What am I to do with the square peg I am born with?

Memoirs on memories

2009-11-04T11:02:00.000-08:00

"There's no fence nor hedge around time that is gone. You can go back and have what you like of it, if you can remember." quotes, Richard Llewellyn, in his book 'How Green Was My Valley'.

If not for this damn thing called memories, we could have sold our souls off to deals heartlessly materialistic like ‘moving on’ and just be fine about it. Agreed, it's change that we all live by every day and may be with even the best, best-ever loved times, there comes a point when we actually want change, so the sweetness and all the good things about what we personally experienced with it does not become a carcass to carry around, in our minds.

What's my point here, especially when I am presently sailing thru' a pretty smooth life, with a job I am, at last happy to go to, a pretty neat little apartment I wouldn't mind spending my weekends at if malls declare shut, a husband who advocates feminine independence and if you ask me, the best of all, no babies with screaming capabilities potentially matching with the Kakapo, waiting to assassinate my late-twenties over dirty diapers. Phew, that's neat - here's a toast in honor of not having all that I always wanted to stay away from.

So why the heck does some things left to rest in peace pay unforeseen visits, making live-able days, tad heavy? People come and go, but not all leave pictures you want to store up. Okay, that was plain stupid. I know my posts are getting vague, talking of no particular incident or a person, also a clear indicator of the hazy transitions happening within. I should be worried about it, I think.

On the other side, I am right now playing host to some of the intense memories of my life and don't really understand if I should do something about it rather than being a meek spectator. Now, that’s the problem when you are trying to strike a balance between heart and mind. Sometimes they both are right and they are both forceful, but just straight opposite. I know they'll fade off again and life will get back to being wildly a glib until probably the next time. But isn't it actually trying to tell me something? I have this weird feeling that it is, just that I can't figure out yet. Well, atleast my blog will keep a memory of my random trysts with such experiences.

If some things in life have to come back as hard hitting as memories, why did they go away, after all? Okay- don't answer that.

I know - because goddamnit, some things just need to end; like this post.

on road to, I don't know where..

2009-11-02T18:39:00.000-08:00

It may not sound spiritually accurate but I think I have found my word. If I need to be honest about the pursuit around it, I could get really dramatic. Because, it was dramatic – the whole point of me wanting to read the book again on no particularly sensible grounds and getting jammed over the same point where it talks about having your own word and all that nonsense and then me blogging about it and lastly the most hilariously alarming fact – finding my word in just about a week after. I seriously now have to consider this point I put in rollick in one of my earlier posts – may be I am really possessed, in which case, I guess I better buck up to face more truths, knocking my door.

I wish I could write about it, I really do, albeit a personal menace to many of the (best possible) practicalities I live with. ‘Cause it just feels damn good. But still, I might risk some of the finest luxuries I have. So, let’s just say, it will for now remain within the walls of restricted premises, which, by the ways, is just me in this scenario. I wanted to write this much because I had to express here the divinity of having realized another face of my own soul. I wanted to reassure that there is an answer to all that we seek. Yea, that's what it seems like. Probably.

I think it would be worth a try to dig whatever-that-has-possessed-me now a little deeper so I don’t have to be flabbergasted with myself in future.

I am just going to choose to believe here that my family or atleast a part of my family who check my blog out won't invite me to gunshot on reading this. Sorry, guys.

Okay, that was dramatic enough; anything more might make this post a big ass of itself.

I promise I am not drunk but whatever this is - is just bloody hell of an experience- Per se.

What's your word ?

2009-10-26T09:22:00.000-07:00

If you have read ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ by Elizabeth Gilbert, this would have occurred to you. If you haven’t, well, on my guesses to a normal soul’s path of life, it might still have occurred to you – What’s your word?

According to the book, everything can go coupled with a word that best goes with it – everything -a person, a place, a book – just everything. It’s said to be more natural than we think.
Like, let me try -

-India – people
-Home– heart
-Fridays – boon
-My best friend – hysteria

- See? Simple!

Actually, it doesn’t sound that complicated in theory – a question you would have to answer in just about a word, just about what hits your mind, I think it should be - heart, before blinking off – what’s your word?

So why does it confuse the shit out of me, in practice, in real, into my face???

When I read the book a year ago, I decided to pretend I hadn’t read that question – after intensely going thru’ oodles of deranged hours on the couch, thinking about it, well, like you had guessed, to no answer.
For, again another deranged reason, I am re-reading the book, this time, with a wider eye for all that I missed during the first.
A word – okay, not necessarily about the type of personality you possess – it could be a thing that’s like a hymn to your soul, that breathes in and breathes out, that lives in your heart, that comes to life in dreams during those soundest sleeps, that without which you would not be you! And the truly magical part about it is-you gotta trust me on this-that you may not know it exists – but it does.

- Well, at least I like to believe it does even if I haven’t come to terms with it.

Play it safe – the book convinces that it’s ok not to find it even if you set out on a hunt with just all the honesty you could harvest from deepest roots of your heart. But you will, one day.

Now, fortune telling could be a different ball game, but I trust on this one – I will, one day. I hope, I will – damn, what the devil can the word be ?

I'm sure many of you might give a smug opinion that why would anyone give a damn. If it's so - good for you ! It keeps you from hysterical limits your soul can scale up to - umm, well, never mind!

I swear to God - this ain't normal

2009-10-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

Okay! This is crazy ! This is the first time ever - ever in almost 3 whole years of blogging that I have something for a consecutive day of having posted another something.
I am cured of long-term ailment from potential numbness .Yea, that’s gotta be it !
It’s like a drug that went straight to my brains on an over-dosage run. I am hyper – I am really hyper – What the hell is wrong ????

I met a little someone today who embraced that inner soul – sweet smiled, noodle haired, dressed like chic – you know the type. You pass a stealthy look and gulp a ball of awe until you hear them talk. No, wait – much against the normal cases, she just got better when she talked. Between silent gazes of waiting for her turn in the long queue at the microwave, she smiled and nodded as if in perfect unison when my box declared a long 2.5 mins to heat. I hate it when the queue behind me stares down, waiting to jump right on after I move. Scary! Now, let me get back to this angel - I said LITTLE, because this lady behind me was not some five-foot-six-inch masquerade of wholesome good looks. Well, she had the good looks but she was probably just about 3-foot-not-more-than-3-inches composition of life. I honestly do not go beyond a smile at such impromptu-bonks but she ought to be different. She was. From what I gather from the 2.5 mins we stood there, she simply seemed more comfortable than psyched-up with the way the world moved. Why would she otherwise take another sweet 10 seconds to let me know that she loved the way Indian food smelled? But that was it. I couldn’t manage more than a humbled Thank You! And here am, writing about what was her name ?

This I am guessing is not the first time I am taken to a road of inspired-creativity by a woman. There have been quite a few instances in my history when I was completely consumed by the beauty and goodness of such female souls. Now, is that okay? I hope it is – because I am freaking straight but why am I quite in love with such stories? What's with a few counts from the male community who will make good story-pieces on my blog? Well, atleast.

But that’s not what I am worried about. What is more serious at this point is the spooky hyper self that has possessed. I am just hoping I don’t have to take a pill or something to get back to normal state of having nothing to write about. If I live life at this rate, I am gonna crash into total madness !!!

One of those hyper evenings, it is

2009-10-20T16:25:00.000-07:00

So –

I have always had this intuitive guilt when I take myself on a shortly long sabbatical from blogging - but that’s not why I am writing.

The town, after 3 beautiful weeks of celebrating color (also reminding us again of why we should not contemplate suicide) went paler and thinner (after the leaves bade good byes) today. Winds have taken their time of the year, indicating – ‘get aside, I am gonna show what it’s like when you disrespect nature’ – yea, understandable –every dog has its day – I should say season. The depression dawned on me when I had to wear my first weather coat of the year. But that’s not why I am writing either. I hate winter !

I met another lady who hates winter much more than I do. After wriggling off the misty beads that found home on her jacket-braced arms, she shook her head in frustration, looking behind her shoulders, the hazy morning. “It makes me sick” , I tried to offer solace. She shook her head harder – I didn’t know if she agreed or hated me for talking about something she hated.
“Oh, try driving up to work at 4:00 Am everyday, honey. You haven’t seen anything yet”.
- Really, there are things I need to say thanks to.

I have for once in these many years, started listening to my body. It’s like coming of age. So no more shrugging off the tiny aches or reactions-to-my-hysteric-nothings or even cravings. I want to listen to them all and understand (tryin to) something that embodies me – my soul – my life. Guess the work out sessions are playing their influence – good to know – I wouldn’t have known my own heartbeats otherwise. These are things worth your time.

Last Saturday was Diwali. It wouldn’t mean a lot when families and friends are seven seas, seven mountains away. So mind half goes – who cares – why bother anyway ? But I think it’s the hangover of the changes that I want in myself these days, that I decided to celebrate it anyway. It ended up, well, half fun, half frustrating. Fun because we had surprise guests who stayed till midnight and frustrating because they went “oh, dear, you really shouldn’t have bothered living half a day in the kitchen for a biriyani that tastes like this !!!!”. It went past me I guess - am more into the meditative trance now. (What!!???)).

Over to matters that matter right now – I really, really have gotten back my love for writing. In fact it’s a little over the board this time that I am already thinking of compiling my short stories for my yet-to-be-titled book. When it’s too much, I know it’s like a just-opened can of beer and before the fizz dies, I will Shut up !!!

So much to live for...

2009-08-17T21:09:00.000-07:00

How many times does life offer you free shows of real-life romance? Well, I am talking about couples who are connected by this most-overused-word-in-the-world, love. It must be prompting to think ‘all the time’ because you see couples everyday who hold hands, kiss, laugh together, rub against each other, or the worst, make out outdoors. But how many of them make you feel life is indeed worth living?

For the first time this year, we had a rainy evening and I stopped by Taco Casa to see what’s that people so love about watching downpour from behind closed panes. I waited for a planned thirty minutes for my husband which stretched onto another thirty, sitting by a window table, trying to enjoy the rain which I honestly couldn’t. There was this guy who I don’t want to describe physically because he later proved to be more good looking by heart than by his looks. We had something in common. Both of us were waiting for our partners but unlike me, he was sipping on a drink. No ring on the left finger. I was sure he wasn’t married coz as far as I have seen, it’s considered a sin in the US for married men and women to be not wearing rings. I doubt if he thought about me the same way because I wasn’t wearing my ring either or my wedding chain but I am married. After a sore hour of wait, Aravind texted me saying he’s stuck in traffic. I thought I should just go ahead and respect what my tummy wanted. So I started on my sandwich occasionally looking around to keep myself entertained. That guy was on phone. Another thirty minutes later, I wanted to leave the place coz waiting for Aravind does not always give me planned results. On one side, there was me, impatient and wanting to leave and on the other side, there was this guy who not for once from the ten to fifteen times that I noticed, wore an impatient look. Okay, 10 more minutes, I thought and looked over at the other table again. He wasn’t there. Before I could assume that he could have left, I saw him walking over to the entrance of the restaurant which by now was fully occupied. When he came back, he had his hands on the shoulders of a very, very pretty girl. So he wasn’t mad at her for being late. He couldn’t have been coz she just was so pretty. She smiled but apologetically seemingly for having had him wait for long. He smiled in return but with apparent love. They walked back to their table and the sight of them together made me smile. They were the prettiest couple in the restaurant but sadly no one seemed to notice, except for me. I pretended to be occupied with my phone but that minute only the corners of my eyes worked. They made such a lovely pair, I wanted to tell them. I was tuning up my ears to eavesdrop on them but it was way too noisy for me to even get close. Finally, I shoved my phone on the table and with a deliberate gut, turned to boldly look at what seemed to be the most beautiful couple I had seen this season. They were talking. Like they say, love is beyond words or languages, this couple really didn’t require either. They were talking but with their hands. I think they call it the sign language. He was capable of speaking, of course. She was not and he used a language she understood. For the next one minute, I sat there, gazing at them, unmindful of the point that I was intruding their private space. But I just didn’t care. I couldn’t find a word to describe these two people who sat right across me, so in love, so beautiful and so much more beautiful because of what they had and what they hadn’t.

I wanted a gulp of water to tone down my emotional flow that moment. I turned away to the window though I didn’t feel like and may be for the first time ever, the rain outside seemed just perfect.

Oy!

2009-08-12T16:33:00.000-07:00

Luckily happened to land on the sound track of Oy! while hopping over the latest releases in Telugu and am hooked to Seheri. Toshi, I didn’t know you even existed. It’s totally your song. There’s always something soulful yet intelligent about Yuvan’s music, don’t you agree? The album marks a collage of frisky and dreamy tunes, well except for Anukoledenadu. If only that were as impressive as the other tunes, Oy! could have elevated Yuvan’s paradigm. Anyways, Sidharth is as charming as ever on the songs and I can’t think of a better singer than himself for the title track. Shamilee??? Where did your allure as Anjali pappa vanish? Her presence doesn’t do anything to the gig of Oy! or is it because Sidharth steals the show? I don’t know how the movie fared but as of now, back to the replay icon that goes Seheriiiiiiiiii….

The world dedicates this day to people who make your life...

2009-08-02T13:40:00.001-07:00

There's someone in your life who voluntarily opens your fridge, takes that last piece of cake you made three days ago, tastes and goes "Ewwww......you made that and ate all of that. It tastes awful". Well, protesting doesn't always win with those who don't care how dark your weaknesses are. But smile on, you got a friend.

If you can call someone at 2:00 AM and tell him/her you met a hottie today, not for once feeling sick about disturbing his/her night, you've got a life 'coz you got a friend. It comes at a tiny price of shushing him thru' his cursing for doing so, though.

Remember a time when the chaai tasted just plain boring? Yea, you by all probabilities were having it alone then. If chaai is just another reason to walk over the clock with those who you call friends, talking about stuff that mean nothing but linger in your hearts forever, life just got richer.

You are separated by a decade, a thousand miles and those inevitable changes. Memoirs and dusty photographs make just what you call the gone-old remains of a great relationship. If one such memory tickles your senses and makes you wonder if it does the same to the other person, you still got that friend, beyond the time and the distance and the changes that fell between.

If there's a reason I want to go back to school or college, despite books that are frightening and teachers who are born grump or to simply to get back to those days under the hot sun, it's only friends..

Up.

2009-07-24T16:52:00.000-07:00

If it’s Toy Story that defined animation in its colorful spirit, if it’s Finding Nemo that told us underwater experience is much bigger than what Disney movies had shown us, if it’s Ratatouille that made animation pictures one of the most loved genres, it’s now Up that redefines and breaks the conventional protocol of movie-making. With Toy Story began an era of two dimensional animation pictures and the world wanted more and more of just one thing – PIXAR.

Easily, they could have hit the top notch of commercialism by remaking a number of old classics. However, Pixar refreshingly and healthily stuck to making original and beautiful stories. Sitting in a Pixar movie, one can’t help wondering if there could have been a nobler story told in a nobler way. It’s also tough to debate what made the movie beautiful, the story or the presentation! But I think, if you ask Pixar, they would trust the former. Why would we otherwise not mind watching a Pixar movie more than once and still find ourselves in tears and laughter and a light warmth in our heart?

Up, in one word is ‘beautiful’. But this has always been the only word I have used to describe any Pixar movie. The most beautiful part is the almost-silent relationship shared between Carl and Ellie and one spontaneously feels the loss after Ellie leaves. Their photo album would leave anyone craving for a few more seconds to have a good look at the pictures. Every picture in that album of Carl & Ellie’s is simply a piece of art.

While Up may not be as deliciously cooked as Ratatouille or as fast paced as Cars, it is definitely another hydrogen balloon Pixar can proudly fly under. It’s a cakewalk to review their movies since the word ‘bad’ seems unheard of by Pixar. The simplicity, the goodness, the beauty and the soul Pixar movies carry is something world cinema, animated or not, definitely requires. With every movie, one can’t wait longing for the next one.

Pixar is a genre, an era, a brand synonymous with the word and the world of animation.

crooning to being comfortably numb..

2009-07-22T11:45:00.000-07:00

It was rusted
The 6th string needed some tweaking
Lay in silence, cast off and muted,

I dusted away the cloudy tar
It shined underneath,
My first guitar

It was young, scarlet and supine
When dad bought it,
We played it with grandma’s wine
On Sundays after church

I once gifted it to my boyfriend
On a new year’s eve
But took it back, the next
To it, all my beings cleave

But times changed
And I quit playing the strings
Though as age brewed
Memory of first love clings

It is still young, scarlet and supine
I played a stroke
Fell in love and played it with grandma’s wine,
All over again.

Punch Lines

2009-06-27T18:12:00.000-07:00

the most excruciatingly true and hard ones people have tossed over me.

1. You don't get ratings for the stuff you do out of your project. Your rating directly graphs to how well or unwell you perform in the required area - my manager on my defiance to claim better ratings for all the hop-on-the-wall kind of activities I was involved in, outside project ofcourse.

2. Wow. From Elf to Santa Clause - My cousin on seeing me after a couple of years (Reference made to my hair).

3. You know what. It really pisses me off when you don't give a damn about how brilliant I am in the game - my friend on winning chess against me for the millionth time.

4. Whenever you are sad, just look at the mirror and say 'I'm so cute'. But don't make it a habit because liars go to hell - my brother-in-law, everytime I sulk.

5. It's a Friday for God's sake - my team mate on having asked to kindly get to work.

6. After a few minutes of slient gape. But I think it's wonderful you didn't get promoted, at least you'll stop flaunting how good you are at work- Mom (that was the meanest one I ever got)

7. There's no need to be alarmed. We will reach the destination soon, if we don't just try and float around a little longer - The announcement that sent creeches down my body, on flight to Mumbai.

8. I bought you a beaded bracelet with all the money I had when we were kids. Now we are grown up and you can't even get me a diamond studded bracelet. You are such a loser - Another cousin on suggesting the best ways to spend my first pay cheque.

9. Me to my 10 year old neighbor Sam: And they lived happily ever after.

Sam: You just ruined the suspense. I thought they were going to unite.

Me: They did.

Sam: Then how can you say they lived happily ever after??

10. It's unfair to leave cigars out when you visit the smoky mountains. You know the mountains might just feel a little insulted - Another cousin to his wife.

The Train Story - 2

2009-06-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

It was past midnight. We had hit Coimbatore late by an hour. I was trying to transcend from the coma my mind was in.
“Is there a problem? We are here for more than what it normally takes” I told Mr. Dad who seemed the only other soul in my compartment, awake. He shrugged and returned to his magazine. Mr Dhoti took the upper birth. The kids were buried in blankets. Their mom amused herself with some nicely orchestrated snoring. I checked the time and hoped for an arrival no later than 10:00 in the morning. After fifteen more mystifying minutes, the train started rolling much to my relief.

There wasn’t any sleep hinting to rise by me. For the hundredth time, I squinted on my watch which adamantly went at its own pace. My eyes took a ride around as much as they could see. Mr. Dhoti’s birth was left alone to a blanket. I immediately checked on his luggage. Gone. He couldn’t have left, was here last station. I climbed down to stretch my legs and made way as I saw Mr.Dhoti walk by. He walked erratically, holding the edges of the seats and concentrating on his feet. I waited to ask him if he had moved his baggage but he climbed upto his birth and diligently slid inside the blanket, never attempting to throw a glance anywhere else. I peeped down the lower seat again and there was no loosely knotted bag of his.

Some noise aimed my way took me out of the thoughts about Mr Dhoti’s baggage. It was the ticket collector. Why is he wandering about at 2:00? “Do you have a problem?”, he frowned at me.
“uhh, no, no, I am fine.”, I insisted though whatever happening that night in the train seemed of questionable diligence.
“Why is the train stopped here?” I threw back one at him.
The TTR lifted his gaze from the papers and went “We have some problem. I don’t want anybody outside the seats till morning.”
The calmness with which he spoke left me at a loss for words. But I just went up one step anyways “Why, what’s wrong?”

Though his appearance presented friendliness and his tone floated within what anybody would call calm, the force with which he had thrown his second glance convinced me it was time to go.
I turned to the seat when he came close and said ”We have a report of some smugglers sneaking in. That shouldn’t worry you. Everything is in control”.

Everything is in control? You are telling me there is a gang of muggers in the train and you are telling me not to worry!! I was about to pass out. I pulled my trembling knees together and hid myself under, well under what, that thin translucent blanket.

The ticket collector stood there, as if to make sure I didn’t pass the news. I didn’t feel up to any conversation. In fact, I didn’t feel up to anything. The train was on the move again.After what seemed like an era, five minutes crept out and this thought suddenly yanked me out of seat again. Mr. Dhoti’s bag!

“Ssshh, Hello”, my voice was feeble with fear but I couldn’t get away with the news just like that.
With great effort I pulled myself down again and tapped on the feet of Mr. Dhoti. He didn’t seem asleep and responded promptly to my call.
“Yes?”
“Uhh, just that, umm, did you move your luggage? It’s not there under the seat. Just wanted to let you know.”

“It’s there”.
“Uh. No, it’s not. Actually, I..”

“It’s there. I mean the bag”, he cut me across “but what was inside has gone. Somebody stole it or it has gone on its own will.”

“What? Gone on its own will?” Was he nuts!? I am telling him his bag has gone missing and he is responding as though it would return from an errand at the toilet.

“Well, you could report it to the ticket collector. Actually you know”, I couldn’t resist the urge. "there are some burglars in the train. You just need to be careful.”

Mr. Dhoti decided to stay with silence. For a moment I grew suspicious of his looks. Could he be the real burglar? If so, would he harm me because I knew? He would. As if the night wasn’t enough with surprises, his looks gave me the chill, the freezing, numbing chill from my throat to spine. My tongue did some favor momentarily.

“Ok, just thought of telling you. Things are in control.” And I let out a silly grin as though to convince him.

He looked at me for one more time and buried his face in the pillow. His looks carried some reproach which threw me back to the seat and I finished some water left in my bottle in one swallow.
In desperation of needing some sound, I almost cried when I heard a boy’s voice from outside chanting ”chai, coffee, chai..” It’s morning!!!! A part of me screamed. I wanted to break open the window glass and throw my head for some air but more than anything, I wanted to use the toilet. For the fear of so many things my imagination warned of, however, I still clung to the seat. My watch showed 4:50. There was an aged couple from the other box collecting their toothbrushes. Nobody from my compartment seemed to care for a tea. With fear clutching my throat, I checked on Mr. Dhoti. He wasn’t there, nor his blanket, nor his pillow. He had left. That was a relief. How many more minutes for the day to break?

The world seemed normal a few minutes later and everyone was up and talking and laughing in the slowly piercing daylight. May be it was a dream. I am just a silly girl. I treated myself to a cup of garmagaram coffee and looked over the top birth. Even if Mr. Dhoti was a smuggler, he is gone anyways and I should soon be out of this. The mom complained how little sleep she had and for the first time, she seemed more funny than annoying when I thought about the non-stop snore which was the only sound that rang around my ears the whole night.
She smiled at me and went on to her kid, “Get up Ammu, we are getting down in the next station. Pack your things. See, you left the bag open after taking your snacks. She zipped it up; sat next to me and hopped onto a conversation. “Are you getting down at Raichur?”

“No, Chikmagalur”, I smiled

She kept talking for the next ten minutes. As her destination was declared arrived, they left amidst what I felt like a thunder of noise. Most of the passengers from that compartment got down at that station.

There weren’t more than a handful of people in the whole boggie. An hour to go. I was almost drowning in the summer tales of Calvin when he takes Hobbes for a fishing afternoon.

“Good Morning.” The ticket collector planted himself in the seat. He was gifted with a smile that no one could leave unattended.
“Good Morning. So everything fine now?”

“We cannot say anything yet. But considering we had a smooth night, things shouldn’t bother anymore.”, he sounded positive.
After my watch promised fifteen more minutes to arrival, I said, ”whatever.I am gone in fifteen minutes.”

He returned a smile and got up to leave.

Some things in life bring great depth of joy even if you don’t get anything out of it. It was such a moment when the train slowed down to stop at Chikmagalur. I picked my bag and as I was about to hop, the ticket collector wished me a great stay.

“Thanks”, the spirits were up and alive again and that prompted me to ask “hey you never told me what the smugglers were doing here?”

With a tone that lacked expression, he went on looking straight in my eyes, “Ohh, it was those jungle rogues again. They sneaked in a dangerous cobra. Of course, cobras go for a million bucks in the hidden markets.” And then he sighed. “Those assholes. They will pay for it one day.”

I thought I didn’t hear it right and then I thought it meant something else. My knees pushed me to just flee but my brain automatically threw words at him “you mean, a cobra?? A snake?”

He nodded mildly and continued “Yea, it’s really huge.You would have seen it only on Discovery”. Garnished it with a smile.

He didn’t have to say anything more. My heart had stopped functioning or it functioned beyond a healthy rate that it was hard to feel. Like a tray of well served wine, it all ran thru’ my eyes - The man, his bag, his empty bag, , the mom’s bag that lay open all night, she had zipped it up and taken it home and stronger than all of this, his words, “it would have gone on its own..."

I thought I would faint. Everything around me felt like creeping. More than anything else the double shouldered bag that weighed down my back seemed to vigorously crawl thru’ my spine.

I dropped the bag and picked some life to move forward. I could. Great. I could move. I didn’t dare stop. Every human being in the railway station that day appeared like crawling, creeping, poisonous creatures we called snakes. I ran out of the station to find a friend waiting for me.
“You are late.” He said, looking behind my back to see if there was someone else.”Where are your bags?”
“Let’s go.” I said.
We boarded his car and he started on one these silly pranks they played last night. I didn’t hear anything more. Well, there was one thing that kept ringing loud enough to deafen the world,
“it could have gone on its own...”.

The Train Story

2009-06-13T18:37:00.000-07:00

I would rather live for the journeys that make great tales than get stuck in destinations that absorb you like quicksand. It was the year 2001. The world had slowly roosted off the millennium fizz. Summer was hot but vivid; perfect season for real life adventures and I was already in the midst of great plans.

The throbbing joy in the mind was insatiable; having dealt with the semester, travelling to a town I haven’t visited, two weeks of rollicking around with long lost folks whom I loved to call friends-summer is my best season of the year. I already had news from some of those long lost friends that reservations were done for a three day stay in Coorg.

Good byes bade to mom n pop. Bag stuffed under the seat. I picked up the new three-volumes-in-one summer edition of Calvin n Hobbes. I started to feel hungry but saved the only packet of Lays for a hungrier, lonelier, sleepless, middle-of-the-night part of the journey. Amidst chaos strictly catering to a railway station, the Bangalore express started rolling on time.

Getting lost (after you have boarded your train of course) in the views of an Indian railway station is something travel-loving Indian souls will understand. Those last minute chorus good byes to the kin from everywhere and promises to call after arriving, the constant train announcements with beeps in between, the chai walas hurrying in hope to find that one customer who will make them business, people running from platform to platform – it is an experience to travel by the rails in a country thriving with people.

There was a family to share my compartment; a couple with two kids. The teenage son seemed to shut himself away from the world with his music. Then there was this little girl who kept grilling her irritated mom with all sorts of questions. The man started turning the pages of India Today, the moment he took his seat.

“I told you we would leave tomorrow! At least we could have travelled by third-AC. Now see, we haven’t even got a window seat. I don’t know how to put up with the heat. Ammu is already sweating heavily, see?”, the lady indirectly gave us a prelude of them occupying this compartment. Her mood went further hot after an elderly man in dhotis politely took over the window seat from her, claiming it was where his ticket pointed. “Shut up and eat your biscuits, god knows what they’ll bring for dinner”, she went on to her daughter. I was wondering what was more difficult for her family to put up with, the heat, the third class or her temper.

The elderly man looked grim. I grinned at the thought of having seized the other window seat and decided to enjoy the chill that hit our faces from the outskirts of Nagercoil. Twenty minutes later, the lady, let’s call her the mom, went manic again, yanking me suddenly from a world of my own. A half filled bottle of juice in the daughter’s hand and the trail of the flowing juice under the seat explained enough. “You can’t keep the bottles on the seat Ammu. Finish them or put them in the bag if you don’t need”.

Calvin and Hobbes was sliding from my lap and I thought it was time I opened it. The elderly man checked on his bag which looked like a loosely knotted rice bag, you know the one you will find in the kitchen store room.

He wore a cotton shirt, looked very simple and preferred to rest his chin on the window bar. Night slowly crawled in. Mom had packed chappati and chicken curry, the thought of which shut off my comic book with a thud.

Lights were on; I could hear the incessant chatters and laughter from all around except my immediate neighborhood. I looked around in hope of exchanging a nominal smile with those whom I had travelled with for the past three hours. Nobody seemed interested to look back. I thought I would move on to fill my tummy. It was a beautiful summer night after all.

Let me conclude this part here and save the actual story for the next post, cause I guess cramming everything up here will 1)make this post very lengthy and 2) take away the essence of surprise.

The night held a package of the most bizarre thing I have experienced in summer train journeys.

100, finally…

2009-06-03T15:15:00.000-07:00

My Blog: At last, you hit 100. Other bloggers have hit a triple century, started supplementary blogs and even ..

Me: Hold on, at least I did. Time to toast!

Blog: You know we should be doing it more often.

Me: Toasting ?

Blog: Yea, like for instance, when you change your blog templates! It happens way more frequently than the number of posts you do.

Me: Shut up; anyways, tell me, which is the best post of mine so far?

Blog: Tough to choose, since there aren’t really great ones. But I really liked your last post; the one on what you thought.

Me: Really? I thought that was cool, too. A little philosophical, here and there.

Blog: Hold on. Most of your posts are quite dreary anyways. When I talk about posts, I generally mean the pictures; the one you had on the last post, that’s the best picture of yours you have ever published. Very thoughtful!

Me: How mean !

Blog: I mean what I mean. I have the right to say what I feel; am a blog after all.

Me: Aaargh! That's enough. We all did evolve from monkeys.

Blog: You did.

Me: Anyways, tell me what’s the best part about being my blog?

Blog: The best part about being your blog is that I don’t get disturbed by posts too often. You peacefully let me hibernate most of the year.By the ways, haven’t you finished the book yet? The one you have joyfully put under ‘UNDER THE READING GLASSES’.

Me: oh, I did. 10 pages and the book went back. Not my kind.

Blog: Now that you have hit 100, let me ask you. What has been the best part about blogging?

Me: hmm, actually, when I started to blog..

Blog: Yawn. Forget it, I don’t want to know anyways. Will you post this chitchat too ?

Me: Good idea. But now that you have mocked me enough and more, I am leaving here.

Blog: Wow! You are quitting blogging?

Me: Keep dreaming, I said I am quitting this natter.

Blog. Good for me. Would you care to listen to just one thing I’ve got..

Me: What? That you would be better off being someone else’s blog? Well in that case, ..

Blog: No, that’s not it.

Me: What’s it?

Blog: Congratulations on hitting 100 !

Me: Than…

Blog: Now, just go.

I thought..

2009-05-26T19:28:00.000-07:00

If Life is the biggest school I am enrolled with, I am obliged to do and redo the greatest piece of homework, every night. Things I learnt transform into new things altogether after I believe I have caught them neatly printed in my learning book.
For instance,

I thought life was a risky gamble. You play it safe; you win. But it turns out that the best way to live life is by experimenting with it.

I thought movie titles were a prelude to the movie. If movies were to be judged by their names, I would never have chosen to watch Monsters Inc.

I thought days in July seemed longer because of psychological reasons. Some kid’s book told me it’s because the earth is closest to the sun during the month.

I thought Punjabi food was the most overrated Indian cuisine, with the annoyingly extensive usage of ghee in chicken. I was bowled over when I saw plain strips of ham baked in honey, eaten lusciously as one of the best celebrated food in America.

I thought failure is what I feared the most until I was introduced to boredom.

I thought actor Arya did not deserve a hot seat in the Tamil films. I opted to change after Sarvam.

I thought if you didn’t have a Barbie doll in your childhood, it was a shame. The recent adulterated styles of Barbie furnished an aversion in me.

I thought to be cool, clothes made a great part. Now, clothes are great but to be real cool, try brains.

I thought Pink was a girl’s color. I refuse to change ; so those film makers who get their heroes wear pink suits, please, for the sake of basic way of life, be aware, pink IS STILL A GIRL’S COLOR!!

I thought Autumn was something to be experienced in the western countries. You should take a drive on the Coimbatore-Palakkad highway during August-September.

I thought time played a good chance to chill between farm duties. But it proved to be a rear-view mirror. Objects are closer than they appear.

I thought it was better to have a job that paid than to be friends with nothing. I say, it’s much better to make something out of nothing than a job that pays but sucks.

I thought fashion magazines were a cool heap of pictures to lose yourself into. Well, that was long ago. If you ask me now, there’s nothing worse to waste your time and money on than fashion magazines.

I thought I would never look for those old cassettes I used to love when I was a kid. When we stripped our house of the clutter, I fondly dusted them and put them back though I no longer owned a cassette player.

I thought the queen of England was an evil witch until I lately stumbled over some great writing about her life.

I thought Mathematics was a simple art of numbers which required only a basic knowledge of multiplication tables. I scored a 16 on 100 in class 9. I have hated Mathematics ever since.

I thought the Internet was the best medium to touch base with the world. A kid-neighbor took me by arm for a run on the grass and asked me, “ do you know the best thing to do ?” My silence replied for him and he went “to take your shoes off and run on the grass”. That meant something.

yeh dosti na ho to, kya phir bolo ye zindagi hai...

2009-05-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

We were pretty edgy those days. But then anybody having to put up with an evil boss is doomed to negative mood fluctuations. That’s considered normal biological reaction. So to put out the fire that was burning in our eyes for weeks, we decided we would use the weekend to wash out . After about 100 suggestions and debates, we chose this serene beach that was in the suburb of the city. Nothing to complain, it came with a resort and Smith knew the place very well. Thumbs up, everyone. Friday evening. Happy weekends-Byes- Have Funs, exchanged. We were six in the gang. But Titto always gave a don’t-you-do-that-to-me look whenever we tried to woo him with a plan. No gimmicks could buy him. So that reduced us to five-Smith,Pinks,Lav,Meerkut and me. Considering having and not having Titto would literally mean the same, we were quite fine and decided not to push him. 6:00 PM; Smith was talking about when she would come to pick us all the next day. She was the chauffeur of this so called self-propelled vehicle. Commutation was never a question as long as Smith was there. So getting back to the plan, discussion hit heights on when we should leave and things to do and the like. Meerkut was lost in google images, as usual.

Lav had other plans but because we threatened him, he agreed he would come, though the flip side of his brain was seriously working on how to wriggle out. I am sure of this because he didn’t turn up the next day.

“Meerkut, 9:00 AM ok?”, I asked

She threw a look which seemed to say whatever, just get lost.

“Meerkut?”, Smith went

This time she put a face like she has committed some serious crime.

“God, Meerkut, did your program bomb?” Smith raised an eyebrow. She was in no mood to bid bye to her Friday evening and do some binge recovery.

“Nope, nothing actually”.

We let out a sigh of relief and continued our discussion.

“Actually, “, Meerkut started

Meerkut was called “The actually Meerkut”. You wouldn’t find any sentence that came out of her, with out this word actually.

We paused, when Meerkut says actually and stops, it’s not good news.

I clenched my fist,prepared to give a blow, if she were to say she was not joining us for the trip.
“Actually…”, Meerkut went for the second time.
Nobody said anything.

“My dad wants to see me sooooo much”. That sooooooo was long enough for my fist to tighten harder and my breath to wheeze faster.

“Would you mind if I just drop out?” And she put up a face like that cute puppy on that Pedigree ad.

Meerkut is basically beautiful but under such occassions, beautiful faces didn’t really count.

That’s it. I was going to say something real bad that she would never talk to me again.
Smith gave a pat on my arm, something that acts like aspirin for that gushing headache.

“How can you..” I started
Meerkut held onto the puppy face.

Smith did the talking. For a while, they were talking.

It was our first weekend plan after months and we were so desperate to get some break. It seemed like a Monday morning when Meerkut came up with this reason to back out. GOD.I hate it when girls throw tantrums.

I sat there pretending to work, hating Meerkut for being so daddy’s girl, but all my senses were fixed on what Meerkut and Smith were saying. I wondered how could somebody be so calmly responding when someone busts a plan like this at the last minute.

Finally, I saw Smith hugging Meerkut. She gave a peck on Meerkut’s cheek and said, 'it’s okay sweetie, you go on'.

What the heck? They looked like they were exchanging congratulations like you do when marriages are fixed.

Meerkut turned to me. I turned away. I am not good at handling such situations.

Finally, Meerkut picked her bag, pretended to put an apologetic face again, and hugged Smith with a smile as if Smith was the one who let her free from a plan to clean the city’s drainage.

Titto didn’t come. Lav wasn’t sure. And now Meerkut, gone.

I was as angry as a tiger, okay, tigress, when Smith came to me, smiled and said it was ok. I put a face which said how could she do this and how could you let her go.

That’s Smith for you, she can understand everyone even if it meant getting ditched at the last minute.

She was helpless, she had to go (Smith’s version of Meerkut backing out).
She ditched us (my version).

So I thought the plan was down in the dumps; no point sitting across the beach and making faces at your own shadows. We were not the Dil Chahta Hai trio, you know.

But the next morning, Smith and Pinks were at my door, right at 9:00 AM and guess what, we drove like Schumacer, ate like that famous Peter guy (who broke records for maximum eating), sang like American Idols, cycled like (I don’t know any renowned cyclist’s name) and told each other stories from our own lives as the sun made a face to go down. By the end of it, I felt, it was actually like that song in Dil Chahta Hai, though Meerkut,Lav and Titto were terribly missed.

That was one of the best days we had. I thought it wouldn’t happen. But that’s Smith, for you; she makes things happen.

Meerkut and I did not talk for a week but made up after she brought us all a yummy chocolate clad marble cake.

After so many days, so many changes, I am sitting here alone today, missing those beautiful moments which really did not mean much then, but make my life a lot richer when I think of ’em.

With all my heart and love, Happy Birthday, Smith !

The musings by 'The Muse'

2009-05-05T20:41:00.000-07:00

She calls me ‘The muse’. Of course, I obviously do the harder part of creative thinking and imaginative writing, while she simply types out whatever I tell her. But basically, I am a mouse; a simple, intelligent, frustrated hybrid of white and gray. For as long as I can reckon, I live inside the head of the self proclaimed author of this blog, who steals my identity and regenerates my ideas, conveniently stamping those under her copyrights.
I love being me. It’s cool kinda being the pool of ideas to someone. It makes me feel good. Actually, it MADE me feel good. Yes, when she used to write something, sometime in the least to mention. I had a purpose. I loved to think. And always did my ground work on what to write next. I’m pretty smart, thinking, trying and raring to go. And like any other mouse, I loved eating coconut flakes and oatmeal. I thought I had a good life to live until my brain attained self actualization one day to realize the fact that this girl I live in is nothing bigger than a sleepy head!!
I mean, she has got a BIG head and a bigger nose, none of which serves any purpose to her existence, except for the breathing part to hold her alive. But if I had that big a nose, I would take a course on the art of sniffing and become like that little rat in the film Ratatouille. I would have written a book for my fellow mice family on how to think and lead better rat lives.
She stopped eating coconut and oatmeal, two of my favorite food. She says coconut is unhealthy and oatmeal makes her sick. But the real reason, I repent not being able to shout, is that she is one lazy bum to shred coconut into food. If coconut is unhealthy, god forbid those gummy jars of mayonnaise that sucks the life outta me every time she gulps down. And I have to run like crazy all over because it makes me sick!!
Okay, coming back to writing. After truck loads of motivating speeches and inspirational quotes about how those people do so many things in life and still manage to do what they want, out of sheer frustration, on this New Year’s, I renounced the idea of getting her to write. She wouldn’t anyways. And when she sits to write, her head turns towards her right shoulder (I have always wondered why she does that; come on, I sit on the left side of her brain) and gawk with a blatant look as if the words had promised to just break out of the wall on her right side!! She sits there so long gaping at the wall that I eventually fall asleep and then she leaves, sighing and wagging her hands that, I got a writer’s block today.
As if she writes great stuff every other day!
It’s like a yardstick rapped up on your knuckles!
It’s like that monster -website’s ad where you are actually a star but stuck up in a job that sucks!
It’s like you are ready to do homework, but the teacher wouldn’t give any!
I am exhausted and I have given up !! I am just done with living inside this dork-head.
So if there’s a soul out there who can be gracious enough to adopt me, then please, here I am, waiting to be all yours. I am pretty smart, quick and funny. Well yea, if you are a coconut lover, then I am more than willing!!!

Like I have always read in fairy tales, I am here, hoping and waiting for my foster soul.
Yours,
The Muse
(Actually, I would like to be called Sir. Wicky Ratington)

Sweeter than chocolate, softer than butter..

2009-03-19T20:54:00.000-07:00

We sat in that rusty pie shop,the first time we shared an evening. The one on the 4th cross street, just two blocks away from where I lived. I have always been here, ever since I got to know pies and cakes. He was shy and that was nice. It was a first time, for me with a boy and for him in that pie shop. I waited for him to choose his favorite. “What do you like”, he asked me.

“ Umm, I have already placed my order and you?”

“An apple pie, with some melted yellow cheese and a coffee”, he winked at me and smiled at the waitress.

That made me smirk, rather sheepishly but I pretended to be such a cool person.
He had been my neighbor for four years and sure he would know what nuts I was made of or he didn’t care. But I knew his; bike lover, jogger, weekend smoker, shoe lover, sexy stubbles, black hair, clean nails, cute smile, well, pretty much of my kind, except for the smoking part.

I liked him and every one in my life knew that. Why didn’t I tell him? Because he had someone else in his life. Why am I here today then? Because we both were at the pie shop, in two different tables, alone and didn’t know what to do when our eyes and smiles exchanged greetings.
The table looked so clean and round that it was like a painted canvas when it was filled with our pies and coffee. My Coconut cream cake did to me what water does to lungs after an exhaustive jog. I wanted something bar my slobber to stroke my throat. It’s ok, I felt better and asked

“How come you alone here?”

“Why not?”, he replied with his pie and a smile and yet managed to keep his mouth half closed.

“What happened to you girlfriend?”

“What?” Alright. Those days, it wasn’t so easy or cool to be talking about love affairs, you see.

I munched on my pie and went, “your girlfriend, I have seen you here with her”.
He waited for the pie to be patiently swallowed and said “We are not together now” and gently smiled.

It was like how you felt when a plane you are in, takes off. Suddenly, the coconut cream pie and the raspberry sauce on top of it was the most exotic thing to eat in the whole world.

“Hmm, it’s wonderful, you should try it sometime”. The cheese neatly dripped and fell in place on top of his apple pie. Ohh yea, it must be. “The coffee goes well with it”, he said, sipping.
Nodding was the only thing I found sensible to do.

“I may be moving out of this town soon, will miss all these”. Smile intact, voice cool, he said that to put out a moment of joy that was gushing inside my veins. Yea, best things in life are free and come in small packages.

Fifteen minutes and a few heavy heart beats later, I decided I should leave. There was no point sitting with a guy who seemed to have his life all sorted out. I knew he didn’t feel the way I did for him.

I paid though he insisted that I let him.

I picked my bag, smiled at him and got up “Listen, there’s something I want to tell you. I have always liked you. I have known you for some time. And I think you are..” I didn’t have a word to complete it but went on “Anyways, I think it doesn’t make any sense now. If you ever think you like me, just give a call. I smiled like I would to a friend. “Bye and have a good life”, and walked off.

He called me from where he was.

“Hmmm ?” I didn’t know how he felt but I was pretty cool to just move on.

“I don’t have your number”

“Why do you need?”

“To tell you I like you”. He still sat there with a paper napkin in his hand. The only other thing I
could see in the entire world was nothing. Taking one sip of coffee as if to feed some reality, he smiled, yet again.

The usual chaos went on in the café’ with laughter and the clatter of coffee mugs, my heart tickled and that moment seemed just bloody perfect.

A year later.

The waitress passed on a warm smile saying, ”Apple pie with melted yellow cheese and two coffees?”

And we replied in unison “Yes, Please”.

One is not born a woman, one becomes one.

2009-03-09T18:10:00.000-07:00

--Simone de Beauvoir:
A popular foward, I customised in my own thoughts and then words.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Read a few great books which changed her thinking, taught her how the earth moved and kept her company during lonely times

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
A handful of friends outside her family, whom she can trust any day

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Travelled alone

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Had a career for herself at least once in her life

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Presentable nails and hair

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Clothing that she finds herself beautiful in

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Dreams about her future and some guts to make them happen

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
One pair of jewel that her grandchildren will be proud to call their grandmom’s

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Her own collection of music, books, recipes that she is willing to share

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Fallen in love

*****
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
How a bank account works

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
At least one perfect dessert to make on any occasion

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
To shake hands gently & firmly with a man

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
To smile at a kid even in times of distress

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
To trust herself beyond anybody else

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
Her parents’ birthdays & anniversaries

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
At least one story to tell the kids the way they like it

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
God. Believing or disbelieving him is a different question altogether.

Sometimes when the day is dark...

2009-03-03T21:34:00.000-08:00

...the only way to light up the spirit is by hugging the memories and smiling over’em.

Moments of my life I lost my heart to..

*A month off in Chennai during final year, all in the name of project

*Icecream in Corner House,Bangalore
*Those rides in college bus.

*Late night phone calls that used to sometimes last till dawn.

*Staying over with friends, watching movies, playing and talking all night.
*Gulab Jamuns,especiailly the ones made on the eve of Diwali.
*First movie, bunking class
*Rides on Scooty

*A R Rahman's creations

*Group studies right the day before semester
*Morning walks in Indra Nagar,Bangalore

*Chilli Gobi at Nandinee

*Alaipayuthe, the movie
*First days on Orkut
*Chilling out over bajji with Smith,Meerkut n Pinks
*Afternoon drives with Smith & Meerkut

*Vacation after 12th standard school

*Life with BUGFRENTS

*Idlis with ghee from MTR,Bangalore
*Drives in Bangalore
*Westlife

*Bushra's friendship

*Backstreet Boys

*The warm aroma of Cookies from Forum,Bangalore
*Movies at Forum
*View of New York in the night from plane
*Mountain Dew from College canteen
*Vaseegara song from Minnale

*Denzel Washington in Crimson Tide,Siege
*Munnar
*Orange Souffle

*Undomestic Goddess, The book

*Evenings with music in a crowded park
*Princess Diana
*Evenings in Beasant Nagar Beach
*Dove chocolate

*Holi at Pune
*Jacqueline Wilson, the author

*Walks thru' MG Road,Pune
*Early morning bus rides through the suburbs of Nagercoil
*Barbie Vanilla Cake flavored perfume
*Madhuri Dixit
*Cricket World Cup, 1996

*Sunsets in Beach on December 31st
*Everybody Loves Raymond, TV Series

*Evenings spent at Jaffrin's house

*10th std trip to Kodaikanal
*Chilli Beef
*Kenny Rogers
*The Beatles
*Friday evening drives to Nagercoil
*College,College,College & College, every minute of it.

1 2 3...Tiramisu !!

2009-02-24T19:55:00.000-08:00

Pic courtesy :Google (but o'course ! )
Now, I am not slowly starting to invoke any recipes onto my blog or even attempting to copy them from cookery sites/blogs. Though I must attribute a major chunk of my idle hours to those brave efforts spent over studious references to some cookbooks & websites in my steaming hot kitchen, trying to form an edible mass, I am not a gourmet chef and I don’t blog recipes. There are zillions of great bloggers who are good at it. But I just wanted to tell you this. If you have not yet tasted this Italian classic lady love that stands tall among the best loved desserts of all time, you have missed something your tongue will adore.Do find out a decent Italian restaurant that serves authentic Tiramisu (I say authentic because it has to have the lady finger cake, the coffee liquor and the marscapone cheese and these are not easily available). Try it and you would be happy you did. Of all my times spent on hungry scanning of recipe pages and and pantry experiments, I always wanted to try out a genuine Tiramisu and never could. I finally could make it,hmm, I wouldn’t really say make IT ‘coz I couldn’t find the marscapone cheese (used ordinary cream cheese mixed with whipped cream that makes a substitute) and skipped the liquor. So, this was somewhere close to Tiramisu but not exactly it. Talk about over held temptations! I was driving around and my car wouldn’t move past the entry point of this Italian restaurant. And yea, my tummy roared in joy with the feel of first byte of the much awaited dessert tickling down my body. There you go one..two..three, an affair to ditch other crushes for, if you own a sweet tooth, just like that !

What more....??!!!

2009-02-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

Hip Hip HURRRAYYYYYYYYYY !!!!

United 93 - Not just a movie

2009-02-15T15:57:00.000-08:00

Not many a time in your life do you get to watch or read stuff that you know will linger in your mind for the rest of your life. The impact is higher if the story happened for real. 9/11 is a topic of emotion, fear and heroism. Having always intrigued by the details and controversies about it, it sometimes disturbs me that the fourth plane that never hit the supposed target does not always prominently get featured if you pick any major documentaries/movies/videos on 9/11. United Airlines 93, was a plane that had onboard a rebellious bunch of Heroes who actually saved,well, yes they saved the United States of America.
This movie left me shaken as it cruised thru’ some REAL action, with shear tremor of what it must have been for the passengers who rose and fought the terrorists no matter what the outcome might have been. The lump in the throat just wouldn’t go, detaining an emotion that was filling every part of me with respect (if that’s the best word I can find) and awe for what those guys dared and did.

For hearts that want to go dig out more on this, this is just a few among many sites that hang out there.
http://www.flight93crash.com/
http://www.nps.gov/flni

You CANNOT just miss this movie(http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi653656857/), for it has a soul, so real, so heroic and it tells us by its every spirit, so plainly that real heroes are always amidst us, with us, within us.

Bowing in respect to all those who lost or lived through 9/11.

Dilli 6 –

2009-02-07T20:57:00.000-08:00

I waited for the album to spread thru’ my veins so the review doesn’t get slapdash. What a way to start the year for Rahman ! First the golden globes, then the Oscar nominations and now, Delhi 6 !
I did check out the soaring reviews the album has already received across critics and fans alike. I couldn’t really put it on the same plate of Rang De Basanti or slumdog millionaire which happen to be the only two other compilations Dilli 6 is compared with. Curiosity aside for the second Rakesh Om Prakash Mehra-Rahman combo, Dilli 6 did not sweep me off my musical feet completely but it did make them swing along the tunes. I certainly do not consider this Rahman’s best.; but nothing less of a great mix that tempts you for a replay which by the ways is the only way (I mean the replay part) to get used to Rahman’s music.

The songs are listed in order of my personal preference.

1. Rehna Tu : Jazzy, funky, playful and light. I wouldn’t know how to call this track exactly but this is one that gently pats your senses in the middle of the night. Rahman’s music transforms into something else when listened to during the depth of nights and this song really took me to the mid nineties and I felt like getting rewinded to his magical kya kare from Rangeela. Rahman’s voice soothes the mild percussion as Tanvi & Benny Dayal support him from the chorus. A song to get lost into, thinking of the mystical wonders his music has always created.

2.Dilli 6: Starts on a stylish anecdote on Delhi. It doesn’t rock you from the word go, not even through the first half of the song. But the song picks up pace as the guitar mixes slowly but strongly into the rap. Yeh Dilli hai mere yaar…bas ishq mohabbat pyar…,to me it felt like defining Delhi with the word that describes its life the best. Delhi captured completely in its true essence. A sure-to-be anthem amongst Dilli janta.

3.Masakkali: None of Delhi 6 songs has a tremor. As I saw the first song of the album titled Masakkali, I was waiting for some heavy guitar and drums to hit the speakers.But the song surprised me with some soft keyboard setting the stage for a very light romantic number sung in the slipshod voice of Mohit Chauhan that easily takes control of the song. Am glad Rahman used Mohit Chauhan.

4:Gandha Phool: I can’t remember the last time I listened to a traditional north Indian folk in Hindi cinema, perhaps one like Radha kaise na jale from Lagaan.But Rahman doesn’t restrict the tune to plain folk. The slow beat shows fusion at its best but the true flavor of the song is easily taken away by the soft whistling with the bird humming along with the chorus towards the end. A must-listen if you crave for the beauty in Rahman’s Fusion experiments.

5.Arziyan: Right from the word go, this song will capture you in all its spirit and will leave you swaying and singing along in a chanting-like feeling. If you liked, Kwaja mere Kwaja from Jodha Akbar, you are sure to love Arziyan. Javed Ali and Khailash Kher set your mind on a cosmic state, kissing your eyes with a drop of tear as you feel music, with this song has almost attained nirvana.

6.Dil Gira Dafatan: Again, a song to be captured in its true essence at nights. I don’t exactly know but it coincided perfectly that I listened to Dilli 6 again and again over my lazy nights. It’s a song that makes you just close your eyes and listen to the mystical mix of percussions. Ash king; I don’t know him but more than his voice, this is a celebration of the instruments that dance in the backdrop. A song that puts you in a meditative trance.

7.Kaala Bandhar: The beat that follows the initial humming almost took me to Yuhi Challa from Swades. But wait, it’s a rap, yea, a dance number but with soft beats. The singers’ (Naresh Iyer,Sreenivas & Karthik) voices blend neatly that at some points, you are not really sure who is singing what. May be Rahman has gone past his days of rocking the floors with some heavy guitars and drums for peppy songs. Despite the racy pitch the song carries, it still is soothing to the ears and foot tapping at the same time.

8.Tumre Bhavan Mein: To complete an album that has folk to rock to rap to classical to romantic light, this one just fills the gap. A prayer, that remains unadulterated with pure rendition of vocals. Not a commercial number, but a soul filler for music or Rahman lovers.

9.Bhor Baye: Am not a lover of Ghazals or Hindustani classical but the song powerfully brings out the talent in Shreya Ghoshal along with Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan. I would stay away from reviewing this as it would be not a good deal to comment on genre I have not listened to or shown interest in.

I was wondering what better heights could Rahman scale up to after his first ten years of music that remade itself. By early 2000’s, I felt he probably was relaxing at the passenger seat or was getting exhausted of his own magic. Rang De Basanti put him in a different light, welcoming him to a whole new era of Rahman-redefined ! And now, he has gone higher with tunes that scoop you up to an ecstatic state but don’t block your ears with any loudness. It’s like growing a few ages up. Hanging around this new horizon of music would keep me happy for a long time, but may I ask, what better heights can Rahman go to ? :-)

Ulle...Veliye

2009-01-29T21:25:00.000-08:00

King, Queen,Ace,Jack,Queen,King,Jack,Ace,Joker; it looked like a realm of rich but grim royals. “Ulle…veliye…ulle…veliye…ulle…veliye…” vellamani’s voice cut straight to the attention of the puny crowd that surrounded the deck of cards that were neatly laid on the ground.
Nithu(Nithesh, my 12 year old neighbor)squatted among other adolescents around the cards. Pretending to nudge Nithu on his back, I hopped to take a keener look on the cards. NIthu didn’t turn.

I pinched him.”Mcchh….what?”
“Nithu…what are you doing here?”
Nithu didn’t reply.
“Aaaaaahhhh, King kedachuchu paathyaa….podu…ulle…veliye…ulle…veliye…ulle…veliye”, Vellamani took the game on.
“Mcchh…Nithu”
No reaction.
“NITHU”

Vellamani looked at me indignantly but couldn’t release his anger as his lips continued to chant ulle…veliye.

Do I know this guy? Yes, he’s the sweeper turned watchman and now runs errands for almost every one in this apartment complex. He has become a household possession and that gave me the liberty to respond to him on the same tone he carried on his face.

“Vellamani….ennathu ithu…chinna pasangle vechu cheettadittu irukke, athuvum kaasu vechu”.
“Akka, ithu super-a irukku, neeyum vaayen, it’s fun”, Nithu answered for Vellamani.
“Iru…un amma kitte solren. Vellamani, unne thedi Shobana vantrukka”. I knew this would silence the game. Vellamani turned with an appalled look. He would have punched me on my nose, in his imagination. Who cares, I stopped his damn ulle…veliye.

Shobana was not there actually but her name usually threatened Vellamani. So I used it profusely whenever the situation with him needed it. Shobana, his half sister and a hazard to his mind’s peace. They always fought over everything and Vellamani complained she took away everything he had.

“enge irukka”, a sigh, a frown, a moment of closed eyes in silence precedented this.
“Ange, front gate pakkathule”.
He stood up and left without saying anything to the kids.
“Ethukkuda kaasu vechu veleyadreenga. It’s wrong”, I said authoritatively to the dissapointed crowd. They looked somewhere else, ignoring in all respect what I just said.
Three hundred rupee notes, four fifty rupee notes and one twenty rupee note.
“ivlo kaasu yaarodathu?” I didn’t expect an answer. So I picked the money, counting.

“Five Twenty rupees !!!! ” I looked around hoping no one would answer so I didn’t have anybody claiming the money. Yippe, a piece of me said.

“Cut it !! Yaaruppa anthe ponnu…Intha character script le illeye, Vellamani enge?” ,that wasn’t from void. There was a man, about twenty feet away, in goggles. I looked at him, there were few more, behind him, beside him, everywhere and there was a camera. And it was running. The cameraman did not move.

I didn’t actually but believed I understood. I was sitting there, squatting actually,with cards laid out, some cash in hand and surrounded by a mob of brood who pretended to be naïve, all captured neatly in a running camera.
“Vellamani poyittan,Sir.Namma itheye eduthukkalam. Different a irukku Sir, Teenage ponnunge pocket money kaaga, Mangaatha velayadrange.Different ana concept, sir.”
The man in goggles observed me, only his goggles didn’t fit in his ears.They were half dangling on his nose. I had watched enough television to understand he was the director of whatever crap they were shooting.
“Hmm…ok”, he said,”inthamma…apdiye ukkanthutu…konjam..dialogue-e sollu”
“Dialogue-a!?,Excuse me, I am not acting” verum kaathu thaann vanthuthu
He smiled as if he sympathised and turned to another man who stood beside,”yen pa, intha ponnu dialogue enna?”
“Ulle…veliye…ulle…veliye…sollu ma” he shouted from there.
I think Nithu understood what I felt like.
“Akka, come on, dialogue e sollu” , he nudged me
Veliye….Flash, some yellow light beat hard on my face.
Ulle, I felt queasy, or at least that’s what I remember.

A few days later on TV

“Pocket Money sambaathippatharkaage indraye teenage pengal seivathu ennenne, paarungal intha vaaram, ULLE VELIYE! , oru dhidukkidum report”

Nithu’s mom never let him talk to me again. None of the kids were allowed to, from that day.

These reality shows, I am telling you.

After Beethoven, it's A R Rahman !

2009-01-24T17:38:00.000-08:00

The musical mastermind of our nation will be present at the 81st Oscars this year. What a proud moment for all ARR fans. After the golden globe, all eyes are now on unarguably the most prestigious entertainment award ever. As far as the album goes, I haven’t digested it yet for none of ARR’s does digest until the songs dole out into the veins with repetitive listening. As a girl who grew up listening to ARR, adoring him more than any movie/sports/music icon ever, here’s sincerely wishing for the genius to bag at least one out of the three nominations.

My first few friends of the year..

2009-01-20T20:56:00.000-08:00

I always remember the first book I read every year. Last year it was Five point Someone and though I wouldn’t term it a superlative experience, I am grateful for the smile it had on me between pages. I am not an avid reader but out of about not less than twenty books I pick every year, I finish only about three to four at the end of it. The rest don’t last beyond twenty pages. I have this conviction that if the first twenty pages of the book are no good, the rest aren’t worth a try and there ends my search with a sigh ! But my journey continues and I become a kid again when I run thru’ the aisles in a book shop or in a library getting fantasized by those hundreds of thousands of stories sitting around me, the colors and the pictures on them, the feel of running my hand on the sleekly arrayed shelves, the smell of good old wood logs that just got pulped into fresh papers! Ohh my, a book store is just the place to get lost !I picked these three to start my year with, well, I still get attracted first by the cover of books. Managed to reach 29 pages of Garden Spells and slowly as the story unfolds, it seems like there is this usual damsel protagonist who has a handsome neighbor. So..not again, please, but the reviews say otherwise. It has really got some fantastic reviews. So I am gonna stick to it at least for another thirty pages, hoping it’s not a chick lit. BOOMTOWN Chang’s Fireworks Factory is twenty pages down. This is for the kid in every one. It’s about this fantastic fictional town called Boomtown where everything is just so exciting. Haven’t gone beyond a page of Hog Wild but I like to trust the reviews. As of now, back to the thirtieth page of Garden Spells.

A letter, a wish and some memories

2008-12-28T18:21:00.000-08:00

Dear 2008,
It’s sad that I haven’t even found good number of chances to mark your name down on papers and you are already leaving. It just seems to me that you arrived only a couple of months back. That's life I guess, Well, Ohh, by the ways, Hi dear blog ! I guess you, by now, may be quite used to the sluggish, erratic frequency of my writing art. Anyways, the letter is intended to kiss good bye to the year and let me get to that straight.

You had been kind in general, except for definitely, the bomb blasts that shook the cities throughout the year. Can I tell you that our faith, particularly in our national security is getting depleted blast after blast, year after year. You have played host to so many such terrible incidents and you will be remembered in sadness for that. Not a good thing, you know. God, if you are listening, please buy yourself a good quality gun and shoot those morons flat without having to think about if it is right for god to be using guns and everything. I hear a pen gun is what the terrorists may use. I don’t really know the details of it but please go for it, it’s okay. This world needs some clean-up and all we end up doing most of the time is cleaning our own clothes and bodies when there is heavy loads of trash laid out there all around.

Keeping aside that, the world is slowly waking to the horrendous effects of the killer, Global Warming. Thanks to scientist and analysts who finally shed the truth to the world. Can you believe how much damage we have caused already? But leaving the causes in the past, I hope everyone understands how much important it is to do our part to save the world, things as little as turning off unneeded lights and electronic stuff. May the years that come see more earth-friendly humans and less of robots.
Well, I guess personally, dear 2008, you had been really sweet to me. First of all, I was not working but still earning for the entire first 6 months. I still consider this the best part that has happened to me in my career. Second of all, you gave me a chance to do what I wanted to do from the core of my heart but did not dare, well, dare enough may be. But finally, one day, hands rigid on table, eyes straight on my boss, I told him, ‘ I quit’. You have no idea how blessed I felt right after doing it. You have pocketed in me, some plenty of time to do things I always wanted to but never found the time for; It’s like saying Hello to myself all over again. This period of my life is the best holiday I have ever had. Thank you very much.

Thank you very much indeed for keeping my family, friends, neighbors and everybody else in my life safe and healthy all through the year. One of my friends says you don’t say Good-bye if you really wish to see the person again, instead you say ‘see you’. But I know I will never see you again after the midnight of Dec 31st. So, all I can do is give you a peck on the cheek and look up, with a prayer in my heart to keep the goodness flowing. God, I really really wish and hope you bless us with a peaceful and a safe year ahead. Happy 2009 !

I me and more..

2008-07-03T19:47:00.000-07:00

I took this from Anju's blog. But as I did it, it seemed to take a long time. Yea, someone rightly said the longest journey is always the one inwards, into the soul.

I am: pretty light with temperament.
I think: we need to slow down once in a while and lay our neck back and take a deep breath.
I know: I am not too target-oriented.
I want: to be the editor of a life-style magazine, have my own boutique, own a fabulous looking home, travel the world.
I have: a great blessing in the fact that I am capable of letting go of things.
I wish: people were more considerate about being kind and nice
I hate: it when cars don’t slow down to let the pedestrians cross or when you type a nice,long message on office communicator and the respondent just says back a ‘k’ or a ‘s’.
I miss: College,a few of my friends,Bangalore,
I fear: being left behind in the rat race.
I feel: a sense of vacuum inside my own self sometimes
I hear: people talking, the incessant hitting of keyboard, someone’s sharp heels giving a tap-tap on the ground
I smell: the mixed fruit juice that I had over lunch
I crave: for times I can just chill out with friends, with a drink and talk about anything under the sun
I search: my hair brush, my mobile, my hanky for about 4-5 times a day
I wonder: how life will be in a couple of years
I regret: having fallen into the box of being a computer engineer.
I love: Grilled Chicken with mayonnaise, coffee with chocolate sauce n whipped cream, being home on Saturdays listening to music, friends (both the TV Series and real-life ones), Early morning coffee with mom n dad , the aroma of flavored creams, AR Rahman’s creations, Sunrise from rooftop, to smile, to be me,to live and yes to love.
I ache:.when I don’t see value for relationships.
I care: not to let go of any relation I have, friends & family despite the disagreements and differences.
I am not: carried away by any kind of advertisements. I buy only for the value of the product.
I believe: that if you love life, it will love you for sure.
I dance: pretty good I say, but on the stage in front of people, my legs always tremble.
I sing: hmm, pretty ok I believe. Aravind asks me to sing some songs again n again, so I guess am not pathetic.
I cry: but I make sure no one sees my tears.
I don’t always: like something that the majority of my folks like.
I fight: sometimes to get over my insecurities.
I write: my heart out.
I win: occasionally
I lose: more than I win, but that’s how life is, it’s ok
I never: Use the F* word
I always: get up hoping for some miracle to happen that day, every day.
I confuse: myself more about why I wouldn’t just decide
I listen: to everybody’s opinion.It kinda puts things in very different dimensions.
I can usually be found: very easily around.
I am scared: of darkness, lonely nights, reptiles, spooky movies
I need: the power of mind to make the best of what is on life
I am happy about: feeling the warmth of love every now and then..

Home,Life etc...

2008-06-29T15:48:00.001-07:00

The weekend was excruciating. I had a hard time cleaning up the mess my home went out to be after a month’s negligence. But at the end of the day, it’s great to have your place all tidied up and organized. May be I should capture a pic of it, not all often do I get to see the neatness I have of it. This is my world, it lodges all the craziness that maketh me. Sometimes I feel I should be more kind to it and think twice before flinging things all around and just go mad looking for them the next day. Okay, the triumphant emotion I sense after I find what I had been looking for is great, but the time and the emotional vagueness that form the saga of running all around drains some valuable life out of me, uuff ! Talking of it, one of the most beautiful feelings I go through every day is to come back home from a tiring and mundane day of work. It’s a blessing to have someone waiting at the doorstep with a smile to collect the milk packets that often are on the whim of eloping my handhold. That was my maid and am really thankful I have her at home. Or more truly, I am thankful there’s nothing or nobody that hauls me out of bed every morning, asking what’s for breakfast today. I enjoy cooking though, the tang of vegetables and ghee as you sauté them, the flavor of ground Indian spices, the aroma of the whole experience of cooking for the soul is blissful; it’s just that I can’t do it everyday as part of my daily chore. I cook for a hobby and that offers me the love to experiment. I recently discovered some exotic ways to make coffee. Ohh yea, Bru has come about with a wide spectrum of flavored coffee mixes. All you need to do is mix with hot or cold milk, shake up and sip ! I am pretty skeptical ‘coz the last time I tried Bru Cappuccino, it didn’t come closer to an actual cappuccino. This post is seemingly streamlining my ideas to kitchen. Shuffling up, music is the other companion I keep at home, my hubby being the 1st one, I must say. There is this channel named Rosebowl that treats us to some decent music and movies with comparatively fewer number of ad breaks. I guess the channel is aired only inside Trivandrum. I saw kelly clarkson’s video for the 1st time on this channel yesterday and she is more like Hilary Duff, isn’t she? Whatever, it’s time to wind up the day and my blog is blushing red after the fruity make over. I like this change, all reddy n goody ! Change, that’s one thing I can count on, let alone the humdrum timetable that boxes us in everyday. When we wake up tomorrow, there’s something or somebody new, ready to say Hello to us. If it wasn’t for change, life would have buried itself down deep in the woods when things shook up the whole of everything a couple of years back. Love, Life and all, it’s great to be alive, ready for the next change. Drr…trr….that’s me unconsciously sucking my empty cup. My hot chocolate has vanished into my tummy long back. So for now, Good night.

Dasavatharam...

2008-06-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

After almost 2 years of hyping the expectation levels in people, I was nearly sure this is one movie I would catch up with in a theatre, just to treat myself to the sound and visual effects in full force. I went to see the so-called magnum opus of Kamal on the 3rd day of its release and returned with a lot of questions racing thru’ mind. First of all, I flatly deny the tag hanging on to the movie - this is NOT anywhere closer to be called a Magnum Opus of an actor who excels in quality equally with world cinema. So what if he takes 10 different avatars? That does not qualify the movie to a safe place in the critique’s court. The plot is strongly purposeful; a biological warfare which loops in world class scientists, CIA-turned terrorists, FBI and even US president George Bush. I took a while to make some sense out of the flow of the plot from a 12th century diversification between the vaishnavites and the Shaivaites where Kamal plays the steadfast Vaishnavite who leaves his family behind and dares to die because he does not want to say ‘Om Namah Shivay’. The only link this thread has with the movie is the point that the massive sculpture of Lord Vishnu which Kamal is tied with and dropped into Ocean is thrown back to the shore by the Tsunami waves, about 8 centuries later.

The movie is an entertainer, sure, from start to finish. But that's just the least that has saved it from hitting the below-average mark. It's a visual kickshaw, no doubt. But when the flavor goes high with ingredients like the genius in Kamal Hassan, there'sn't much that satisfies his intelligent fans apart from the magnitude of hardwork that has gone into it from the editing and the visualization part. For me who has grown up admiring the brilliance in Kamal's movies, the word 'Classic' just fades away from the plate that carries his master pieces on serious subjects like Kuruthipunal or Mahandi or Nayagan or a delicacy of humor like in Micheal Madana Kama Rajan or Sathileelavathi ....the quality these movies carried in every respect of Cinema is just adorable. What is more incredible is the point that the beauty of this was achieved when we did not have super eminent technicians like Ravi Varman or PC Shriram doing the work behind the cameras. PC Shriram was part of Kuruthipunal, though, I believe When it is a magnum of a few intelligent minds making a movie, people do not expect anything less than an Opus and only when the product of the combined work strikes out all the records it has set in the hearts of movie goers, I would call it a Magnum Opus. I believe I have seen more in Kamal and that's my solid base to expect more from him. If you attempt to take viswaroop with 10 different avatars, it's just another slot in the Guiness Records for you, alright and Congratulations for that but sorry that hasn't helped me stand up and give a standing ovation at the end of it like I wished it did. Kamal, good job but Dasavatharam is definitely not a splendor that any Kamal Hassan-lover was expecting it to be.

Will you be my Hero ?

2008-06-19T11:39:00.000-07:00

Aren't black men scoring high over whites when it comes to their screen presence ? I was watching 'The Siege' and couldn't resist acknowledging the fact that nobody else could have done the character of Anthony Hub Hubbard other than Denzel Washington. Now my 1st statement could be called racist because I used the word 'black' to address someone. But how in the world would I rephrase it ? Speaking of it, Denzel is not really handsome if you visualize him to be one of those middling man walking against you in a crowd. Would you notice him ? So what's it that which makes him, well, look-able when he says 'Drawp the gun naaawhh' . His attitude? His dressing ? His style ? His Voice ? Or simply the power of his character ? Wht's it in a person that tickles the oomph-thing in the opposite sex? A friend of mine has turned away from so many good looking faces of wanna-be prince charms simply because she didn't feel the bang on the 1st go. That made me ask what would I look for in a guy ? I donno.....not much...my kinda guy...well is just simple with words, straight with thoughts and comfortable with the pace the world moves on !! The most handsome men I have met in my life are not completely great looking, they just got that style factor somewhere in the way they live. A man needs to have a sense of hygiene of course, of himself and his things, but hey, this is a human thing, irrespective of the gender. I think the 1st thing I would look for in anybody is the sense of cleanliness in his/her thoughts and words. Men in my eyes appear more handsome by words than their looks. I wouldn't care for his eye color or hair texture or complexion as long as the only jewel I find on him is the watch, the mobile too, yea. I am not going to be a staunch critic here but do men really think wearing neck chains and ear studs and colored hair and crappy lettered Tees will give a go with gals ? I think world has moved on from Bappi Lahri and Aerosmith.
The best way I have felt (I wouldn't use the word judge because I am a strong believer in the fact that being non judgmental is the nicest way to have friends) to understand a man's attitude is to talk to him when he's accompanied by a girl, his friend, his sis, his wife, whoever but that somehow exposes the best and the worst in him. He has got the best of brands layered on his body , alright, but if I find his hands scraping the girl for nothing more than a physical reason, I would just feel pity both for the girl for having him in her life and for the brands he's wearing coz they helplessly are sitting on the wrong person. A man should learn to keep his romance and religion private. If not, try movie and politics ! The two are always the dice to watch out for the style in men, all types, intellectual, articulate, stylish, romantic, brave, well dressed and very importantly and more in politics, Witty .
And yea, if you think making a sleazy mock of everyone around is the coolest way to be humorous, get lost.

It was too long, but I had to come back !

2008-05-29T08:26:00.000-07:00

Tuck-Clack-Tup, yeaa,, my engine must have dried up of friction, that’s ok continue flying. Hmm……(Wide grin), my paws accentuate the movement of my body to move on top gear. Gliding through the clouds, who said the city burns during May!! Am feeling like sliding on ice…oohh, that must be the white skies. Whatever, it’s all nice…I have had a pretty wonderful flight…. So far..! Tuck-Clack-Tup…again now what the hell is that….the noise nudges me to turn around…myself…and…what rubbish…my wings are gone !! My feathers…..my bird-like body……Gosh….I am no more a BIRD !!!! And I am dropping down…to the hub of cemented trees and the world of racing creatures !!! THUD-THUD-THUD…oh mine, leave my knees alone, they are already ruptured ! Nobody to help, grumbling, I lift myself up, Yea, I know dreams always have a horrendous end!! These weird ones I say !! And ho, my monitor dutifully flashes the words as I grumble over the aches my keyboard gave my forehead. I frown but manage to read them …….“Welcome Back to Blogging !!”

It's beautiful to fall in love..

2008-03-12T22:05:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write on this one because Smith (Smitha, that’s what she is actually, a good friend at work; if you have been a regular reader of my blog, she features occasionally on my posts and almost regularly on comments) is leaving her spinsterhood for good. Now we get to see her only hitched to either phone or gtalk all the time and wear a naughty smile throughout ;not to blame her, it’s a long distance courtship that they are building, so things could only be slow and steady and they are. I hope she enjoys it all, u know all the sudden changes life brings about; all the frenzied plans to buy this and that, go shopping almost everyday, make plans for the wedding, get lost over too many advices and suggestions as to what to eat and what to leave, choose colors and jewels and eventually feel utterly puzzled if the choice was right. The pre-wedding season could drive you crazy and make you feel beautiful at the same time. But beyond all, it’s the feeling of slowly becoming someone else’s that makes it all wonderfully warm and soothing. Wishing you both a wonderful love. For the moment, Smith, go on, take a chill pill and watch these movies so you could set the floor ready for the candle light dinners and long drives and who knows, may be you could watch them together..
Sleepless in seattle, Jerry mcguire, vivah, when harry met sally, love actually, hmmm..I would keep updating this list as and when I remember more; they could be of help to learn to blush more easily, not that the blush that sweeps your cheeks now when you are on phone is bad. You just need to learn to be comfortable with it ! :)

Last night I dreamt of you,

2008-03-04T00:58:00.000-08:00

like every other night. I know you will dismiss this with your indignant, ‘there you go again’. But hold on, I take my last attempt to collect all those illogical thoughts and put them on paper, for the last time so you could try and make out what it means to be in love and yet lonely. All these days, I was crazy about you and everything about you that I almost missed to realize that I could never ever be your love. I hoped only falsely that you would understand one day and things would be fine. You didn’t and I am not complaining. Perhaps, I should thank you for molding my belief in love. I probably didn’t know that it’s not love to just keep writing letters, like I always did and feel okay about you crushing them all. I wonder if there was no love, why did you have to read them after all. I love you so much that it now hurts badly to keep loving and keep getting ignored in return. I saw you in the café with your new found love, last evening. And trust me, it did not make me cry. For a moment, I felt alright seeing you smile with another man. I am not bitter, really. I know we would be 50, 60,70 someday and it’s nice to wish for all that we want to be. I don’t even know how life would be with out thinking about you or insanely trying to attempt another letter or a gift which I hoped would could change your mind .I hate that I am clueless, but I have had enough that I want to just leave you with your life and I don’t really care what ever comes of it, my life or yours and it seems like a damn good idea to move on. All the letters and flowers that you eventually chucked out, I am happy you did and there’s nothing that reminds me of you or how insane I was. I want to sleep the nights out, hugging the pillow, and go fishing with some wine and party with friends and play squash. I haven’t experienced it in years and oh man, I haven’t had a Life all these years. With this I am gladly burying all your memories and when I wake up, I want to go back to life and be ready to hope that one day I will have my girl, I am yet to meet. Any day, you don’t have to think about where the hell I would be in life for you know, I would be fine though you wouldn’t see me creeping on you with my letters, right now, and am going back to some sleep and wouldn’t really invite you to my dreams. So, just relax.

PS - I felt, melancholy takes better shapes in the hands of a male and I have written like a boy; hope this is set straight. :)

A Promise for Christmas - Valentine's Special

2008-02-13T19:32:00.000-08:00

I rush into the hospital and find Gennie talking on the phone. She points at the doctor’s room gesturing Dam is in there and pulls my hand down to sit next to her. “He’s alright, Mrs. Parkinson. Please don’t let this worry you too much. He’ll give you a call once he’s out of the doctor’s room. Yes, sure, Take care”.

“Dam’s mom, she wants to come and it’s…”

“Hw’s he now ? ” I sharply cut her across

“Dam is doing ok. But they say he might need a surgery on his right elbow. The car hit him on his hand while he was trying to get out of the driver’s seat. “

I sigh out my aggravation and ask her if she has got enough money.

“I have paid for the x-rays and stuff but I think we’ll need a lot more”.

I quickly leave for the ATM. I offered Gennie a bottle of water when I got back. She took it gratefully.

“Anna, there’s something else I want to tell you”.

“What?”, I ask her, sipping the water bottle.

“Did you know that Dam is a cancer patient? ” She says that so casually that I can’t really make out if I heard her right.

“Wh…what ?”

“He is, Anna. And I found that out myself only today when he told the doctor. Dam is leaving New York, the next month. Says he wants to just move on ”

There is this sudden gush of tears bombing out of my eyes and I can feel my heart shrinking thinking about what I just heard. I can’t hold the bottle firmly and drop it eventually. My fingers are trembling. I can’t even blink. I am shocked to the degree that I feel like slapping Gennie for giving me this news.

“What the hell…” I don’t know what I am saying.

Gennie holds my hands and tries to appear composed. But I can see tears in her eyes too.

“Don’t worry, he will be ok.”

I bang my neck against the head rest of the chair and look up at the blank ceiling.

“No body knows, not even his mom”, Gennie continues but I wish I didn’t hear anything.

All these days, all the fun and silly things we had shared. I have only seen Dam in the brightest of smiles. Every moment of hell I gave him and Gennie about my relation with Kenny, I know I have hurt Dam so many times because I was hurt myself and I couldn’t take it when Dam or Gennie tried to console me. I was always snappy and cranky and insane whenever we talked about Kenny or my life. And Dam would tease me at the end of it all saying I finally gave Kenny a chance to live and I would sometimes slap him. All this and more when he knew he was having this dreadful disease ? He was always listening to me like I was the most important person ever and all I have given him back is my share of truck loads of problems and a little companionship.

I sigh and close my eyes. For a moment I don’t see anything, I don’t see life. Perhaps Dam didn’t tell me about his little secret because he knew I would ignore it just like I had ignored him, all these days, all my life.
I curse God for putting people through the worst of life, but quickly remember Dam telling me once that God never puts us in problems; we choose our own mistakes and God goes through the toughest time trying to pull us out of it.

Dam was leaving ? Where would he go ? He doesn’t have anyone save his mom. Is there anything I can do ?

I lay there for hours, thinking and not understanding. They are doing the surgery on Dam’s hands. Gennie fell asleep for an hour.

I wipe my cheeks and feel a numb coldness and tears.

I look around. It must be almost midnight. The clock showed 11:15. I can’t believe I was sitting there for 5 hours. I pull myself out of the chair. I suddenly think of Kenny and the easiness with which he broke the marriage. I think of Michelle. I think of Dam. I think of Gennie. I walk across the hall and hold the window sill, gazing out meaninglessly. I see a church and some people gathering up for the midnight service. They are hugging each other, kissing. I can’t see more because eyes are welling up and I look up at the skies, stand there until my knees were tired.

“Ms Gennie, Ms Anna”, that’s the call from the doctor.

I turn around with a jerk and see Gennie hurrying towards the doctor. I don’t hear what the doctor is saying. But he’s smiling at Gennie and she turns back to give me a Thumbs up. For once in so many hours, I take a deep relieved breath and wipe my tears out and slowly walk to the room.

Dam is awake, smiling as joyfully as ever. “Did I make your Christmas eve adventurous, ladies ? “ He chuckles.

I wait at his bedside and smile, touching his arm. “Hey Anna, what’s up honey. Did Gennie tell you I was dead ? “ Gennie was laughing.

“Are you leaving” I crawl up closer to his face. Dam’s smile fades, he looks up at me seriously.

“Where?” Dam manages to hold the smile.

“Are you leaving the city, Dam?”

He doesn’t respond. He looks at Gennie who looks apologetic.

“Dam I am asking you “ I sound angry

“Anna, see, some things are better left unsaid and you.. “

“I am so sorry Dam, I am so sorry I am letting you go. I am so sorry I didn’t know”. I cry and lean across his chest. I can slowly feel his hands on my hair.

“Anna, I just thought I will let you live”, he continues to chuckle.

“Yea, Thanks Dam, you can, it’s your life. But I’ve just got a small gift for you.”

“Wow, for Christmas ?”, he exclaims “ I just hope it’s not another crazy kitten that crunches into me all the time”

I suppress my laughter. I had gifted Dam a barmy kitten, last Christmas.

“No, it’s not, but it’s gonna be yet another crazy being that will torture you for a life time ” I smile

“Ohhh no”, Dam groans “I know ! A puppy this time, right ? ! Anna for GOD’s SAKE, I HATE PETS “

I continue to smile.

“What, where’s the damn thing” He is curious.

I move further close that I can now feel his breath and whisper into his confused face

“here” And I kiss him, gradually feeling his hug tightening and tears flowing. But there is no grief , I know. I look into his eyes. For the first time, I have seen tears in his eyes. He still looks flabbergasted. He hasn’t taken his arm off me.

Wiping away his tears, I hold his hands and say

“Merry Christmas, Dam”

He still can’t speak. And he struggles to shift his gaze to Gennie to get her word that this is not a dream.

Gennie is smiling in tears.

I turn back and go “Merry Christmas, Gennie”

Tears get faster on Gennie’s cheek. She comes closer, kneels down by the bedside

“Merry Christmas to both of you” She somehow manages amidst tears and smiles .
- Concludes.

A Promise for Christmas - Part 2

2008-02-04T19:11:00.000-08:00

I bite my lips, irritated. Why on earth does Gennie have to call me NOW and on some restaurant’s number.
“Thank you, I am coming” I mumble to the waiter;I can’t hide how irritating this could get.
I swiftly walk up to the reception, pick up the phone and answer
“Gennie?”
“Anna, oh my god, I finally got you”
“Why in the whole world did you have to reach me on this number?” I control my temper to make sure my voice does not get loud.
“Anna, I have something important to tell you”
“You couldn’t call me on my blackberry?”
“Your blackberry was switched off. Anna listen, Dam met with a car crash”
I flip my gaze from my blackberry, which I took out to check if it was switched off to the receptionist. I can’t make out what Gennie was talking about.

“What? Dam? When ? Gennie, what are you saying?”
“Yes, don’t worry he’s out of danger. Dam was giving me a drop back home. I got out of the car to buy something and I don’t know, the car was hit and Dam was bleeding. I took him to the hospital. They are looking at him. Anna, I want you here right now” Gennie sounds nervous yet strong.
“Fine, I am coming, which hospital?”

Gennie is a strong person, I know she can handle things pretty well. But I need to go. Oh my God, Dam, what the hell. Thoughts just whisking through my mind and am unconsciously walking to the exit.

“Anna” , Kenny stands right in front of me looking very concerned.
Perhaps he can make out something is wrong.

“Kenny, Hi”, I don’t smile and pretend serious and confused.

“Is every thing alright?” He comes a little closer.

Michelle joins him from the table, smiling at me.

“Yes, umm…I mean not really, Hi Michelle”

I gather guts and decide to leave “See, I am sorry, am in a hurry, I have to leave right now “

“Ohh, of course”, Kenny replies, “I hope u have all the help”.

“Yes, fine, thank you”

And I start walking.

“Anna”, I hear Kenny again

What now, I turn back.

“I am sorry but Merry Christmas to you “

“yea…Merry Christmas to both of you”, I can’t believe I managed that.

And take a cab, straight to the hospital.

Dam Parkinson is my colleague and a good friend. In fact, there is friendship between us to the extent that Dam and I hang out causally and he has helped me with a lot of issues in life. Gennie Whitefield is my roommate and she’s a common friend to me and Dam. Dam is handsome, intelligent and extremely funny. But I genuinely can’t pull myself to spend too much time with him because Dam is in love with me. Yes, he has proposed and every time I speak to him, I can make out his effort to hide the love from his eyes and therefore it’s not always smooth for me with Dam. In fact, I have been razor sharp with him when I knew I saw love in him. I think I can’t get over my breakup with Kenny . It’s insane. But I do not think I could ever remarry. The cab stops in front of the hospital making me blink about how long I have been thinking about Dam. I take my wallet out and feel a few dollops of tears drop into my hands.
God, please keep Dam safe.

- Anna's snags will continue

A promise for Christmas.

2008-01-29T19:44:00.000-08:00

The last time I was here was for the eve of my last birthday, when Kenny finally said he wanted to get married to me. For a moment I couldn’t believe him, ‘cause Kenny is someone who doesn’t usually give in to anything that easily. He was holding my left hand and I could see a glee of love on his face in the candle light that spread graciously from the White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle cheese cake on the table. For the umpteenth time I smiled at my super strong confidence that Kenny was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was leaving for California the next day and I wanted to put a pause to everything and just stay there, staring into his eyes. I was going to miss him. Two weeks was not a small thing, you know.
“We will get married by the end of Jan; that’s like about 3 weeks from now ?”, he was smiling intriguingly and I didn’t respond. I couldn’t take my eyes away and think.

“Anna?”, he embraced my palm and I was forced to come back to the real world.

“hmmm…yea…you were..hmm..saying..something ?” I was embarrassed at my own dreamer-attitude.

“Good gracious, Anna ! “, he was still smiling and I had to make my ignorance up and smile intelligently, like he was the one being ignorant.

“I was talking about getting married by this month end. 3 weeks from now, how about that?” , he continued ignoring my attempt to appear smart.

” Hmm…yes, that would be fantastic, I..umm…I just can’t believe you are saying this, are you serious Kenny ?” Now this time I was again looking into his eyes but not with passion, I wanted to see a sense of assurance.
He only gave his trademark smile again and I couldn’t ask for more. I trusted his gestures more than his words. Sometimes I had this strange feeling that I was just trying to personify the man of my dreams in him. But it couldn’t be true, or I believed so, because it’s not really a year since Kenny and I were a couple and am here again at Cheesecake factory in New York , 11 months after I married Kenny and 4 months after we separated. I sit here thinking of the changes that year has brought about, single, married and divorced, broken and mending, my emotional ride through out the year.

It’s the eve of Christmas. The city is a spectacle. There is this red feeling of love that just blooms around in here every winter. I walk in looking for a private kind of place and choose a corner table by the window which lets me stick around for hours, watching the world go by. I look through the glassed up walls. It’s nice to see people making merry. Happier faces, forgetting the stress and work, the cakes smelling yummier and hotter than ever, snow just kissing away the blues of the year, Churches getting ready with lights and carols, Christmas is just too beautiful.

“Good evening and a Merry Christmas to you ma’am, would you like to have something”
I look up at this man standing right beside my table, offering me a menu which has a tiny wreath attached and he is wearing a Santa Claus hat and a very warm smile.
“Ohh, yes…umm..Thank you” I politely take the menu and he leaves. I decide to go for a club sandwich and a Peach Smoothie.
As he comes by, I find myself in a hurry to close the menu and place my order. I avoid his eyes when I tell him I would like the beverage along with the sandwich. It has become a habit to avoid anybody’s eyes who smiles at me, these days. Broken heart, you know.

I resume my gaze through the glass and suddenly flip my mouth open, my elbow slips off the table. It can’t be. Oh gosh, this is insane, it can be…HIM. But it is and truth always turns hostile with me, always. Kenny Witherspoon, my ex-husband and his new-found fiancée Michelle Blossom enter Cheesecake Factory hand in hand, fully in love. He says something in her ears and she turns pink and gives him a soft little push. Oh my GOD, why does it always happen with me? I must scuttle or he’ll catch me. Kenny and his girlfriend saying hello to me ! I would rather die than make myself a fool in front of them. I look for my phone and pretend to dial a number and hurriedly flip off the seat. I hide my face in hair and fumble for an exit, not daring to look up or straight. Oh yes, thank god I can see the exit and Kenny hasn’t seen me or he would have called out my name. For once, I escape. Relieved but still wheezing, I hold the handle of the door to just flee when I hear “Ms Anna … “.
It was like a lump of thunder banging across my chest. For an instance, I think I must just move on. I am still gripping the handle of the door not looking back. I open,
“Ms.Anna Sweetmore” . It’s clearly loud enough for anyone in the restaurant to hear. I have no choice but to gulp in the remaining energy, close my eyes and turn around forcing a gentle smile into my own face. I can’t pull out my voice but I manage a

“Yes ? “
“Ms. Anna Sweetmore ? ”
“Yes, it’s me “ I look through the corner of my eyes for Kenny and he looks shocked and surprised. I am obviously visible beyond question.
I heave a deep breath, convinced that Kenny has also made out that I was trying to flee the place, seeing him.
“Am so sorry ma’am”, continues the waiter whom I had placed my order to, “there is a call for you at the reception”.
“What ?”

“Ms. Gennie Whitefield is on line”

-- Anna will be back

So far, so good

2008-01-22T01:19:00.000-08:00

So….I seem to have quit getting bamboozled over not finding anything inspiring enough to write about all the time. Looks it’s alright if life gets a little sluggish. I am getting at ease with the luxury of getting paid for doing things that I only love at work. Anyways, I am kind of getting over the vacation-mood and seriously want some venture to be set in.

And the year so far has been okay enough. With all the resolutions and careful learning that I jotted down over the year end, I felt I usually lost the vigor of the New Year by the second week of it.

Kicked off my 2008 with a year end shopping spree. So that was loads of a reason to smile at the New Year. I bagged like 6 T-shirts for the cost of 3 and some junk stuff that would otherwise normally get stuffed into the closet forever (this time I am determined not to bury them there).

It's like, by the start of every year, I get a year older along. Yes, I turned 26, this Jan. With all the twists and bends life is riding on, I can’t do anything more than just nod when people tell me “You are a big girl now, get more responsible”. Sighing apart, it was a silent confession over the fact that ' ohh, yea, I am a big girl now”.

One of our buddies is back from a short term abroad visit and you can’t tell how much we’ve been waiting for her return cause so many celebrations had been put on hold until she came. Though it’s quite sometime since she returned and we have already resumed our plans, which were on the back burner, I want to give her a proper welcome-back, ’Smith, welcome back, it’s so nice to have you with us again’.

So, that’s kind of it; the year that just unwrapped, pretty cool, I’d say. And that made a post for me. Must say I am getting the attribute to keep my blog busy.

And by the ways, caught up with the music of Jodha Akbar and it’s a class of its own; you know, rustic, royal, mellow (some tracks) and easy on the ears, a pick for
hardcore Rahman fans like me.

With all due respect to those gorgeous models...

2008-01-14T05:11:00.000-08:00

Kingfisher calendar of 2008 is an album of sexy lasses in swim suits ???? I mean, it’s some news that has chilled down a bit now, I know. But, was that even necessary for a calendar?

I had to shut close my mouth (which formed a bog O in disgust, of course) when some one just peeped into what I was looking at, wonderstruck. Before I could make myself clear as to I was NOT wonderstruck by the curves of those ladies, he was off and I can’t really imagine what went thru’ his mind. (Imagine, me flipping pages of pictures of girls in bikini, with an expression that probably seemed like I was….oohh gosh, that made my embarrassment for the day).
Anyways, planting the focus back, yea, Couldn’t Vijay Mallya think of anything more attractive to make the days of a year? Blame it on Bollywood, for glamorizing the confidence of going almost nude; let nudity be confined to movies or pageants where the body does the talking. But to have a calendar from a brand that so far was, well, de-glamourised yet stayed in style, this is definitely not so cool. Come to think of guys who can actually go wow with a smile, waking up to these pics every morning, I feel a sense of plain mockery. Probably, they were the target, Kingfisher focused. Forget about those picturistique scenes on nature, What happened to the photography that can talk or question the mind and still sooth the eyes. If Vijay Mallya considers the easiest way to reach people’s eyes is by sporting a handful of beach wears, it’s either a pity that our society is looked down as an easy victim to skimpy clothes or Kingfisher falls prey to the western glamour. There’s the class who still remain classy, with taste, you probably didn’t see us.

First post of the year.

2008-01-10T00:30:00.000-08:00

And there I go !! Tagged for the first post of the year by Bungi.
Self enlightening, I say !!

1. What did I learn?
I learnt that credit cards are like those one-night stands which could leave you with momentary pleasures but are extremely capable of sucking out,throwing over your due balances SMSs every morning. And you know your account is already running low. So the next time someone calls up and offers me a FREE credit card for a lifetime, I am gonna hack his brains with the same one he offered me last year and bury the card forever !!!!

2. What did I accomplish?
Well, I still have the to-accomplish list that I prepared for 2007 in shape and untouched. But, hey, it can’t be that bad. I must have done something. Yea, I, umm….lemme skip this.

3. What would I have done differently?
What WOULD I have ?? I would have done hundreds of things differently, given the chance to go back and live it all over again.

4. What did I complete or release?
A year in my 3rd company.

5. What were the most significant events of the year past?
Trip with mom n dad after a long time
Invested in an apartment
First anniversary of being married
Made some good friends
Brought back some lost friendships
I tried out quite a few things I’ve always wanted to like I tried making breakfast when my maid was away, I tried more glass painting, I baked. I might have not been successful, but who cares, am happy I did !

6.What did I do right?
Ignorance !!! I ignored so many silly things and just moved on. That made a lot of difference.

7. What were the fun things I did?
A lot ! Surprise weekend family trips, hanging out with friends, staying up all night, watching back-to-back movies, making a mess out of so many things I cooked, fighting with the hotel manager for reasons he was innocent of, playing pranks on buddies and a few more may be.

8. What were my biggest challenges/roadblocks/difficulties?
I don’t know; sometimes I have this fantasy for starting my own dream job which gives me a come-down-to-reality kind of hiccup when I think of my actual work. My job and I have fallen out of love. I need to look for new destinies I want to travel to. That’s the challenge.

9. How am I different this year than last?
I would say I want to take some responsibilities. You know, get careful with money, clean up the house more often, spend the best time with family and enjoy myself more. But it’s too early to judge how different I am this year. Things have just started.

10. For what am I particularly grateful?
All the love around me. I am rich with a handful of fantastic people in my life. The joy, the strength, the care, the fun, the comfort, the peace, my life is blessed.

Another year gone...

2007-12-26T23:18:00.000-08:00

And the end of another year ! Sometimes I stop and stare at Life cruising along, least bothered about if I am able to keep pace. The race is on with a mob of rats and am doubtlessly one, racing, sometimes not knowing where. Wish to stop and take a road, not wandered on by my straying footsteps. But then, they are not too sturdy, my feet I mean. I get bored easily and my volatile mind wants to try too many things. Anyways, I am just sitting here, thinking about the emotional ride I was on, through out 2007. By the end of it, I gasp at the number of mistakes I had done, so much to learn from and the least happening, so much to do and more importantly so much not to do.

The year has been kind, overall. It’s like life taking a more meaningful dimension altogether with newer relationships every year. Family and friends, some new, some gold and old, aren’t they the sole reason for the beauty of waking up to face another day with a smile? Life is void, sans love, yea, with years,I realize it is. Imagine being part of a crowd and not knowing a soul !That cannot be life! All my insane philosophies apart, I feel so thankful for having people to love and be loved beyond conditions or limitations. So grateful for keeping my loved ones out of all the horrific mishaps and accidents and bomb blasts, over the year. It spooks the hell out of me to question or imagine how guaranteed safety could be. My friend says, don’t question, don’t imagine, just thank god we are doing fine today. That’s probably the way of being happy.

Adding to the wish list this year would be a strong will to actually do things that bring in joy and meaning and purpose to life and not just sit and stare and do the talking only to the computer. When I do not want to reach any place the train is going to, why would I just have to be in it ? I wanna step out and make my own road, taking for granted I will still have the money to pay my bills.

I am learning to let go of some of those memories, which are sometimes too intense, in a nice or not-so-nice way. I wish I could be more forgiving towards life as life has been to my mistakes. Perhaps I am growing. I can feel the slow transformation of turning into a young woman from a careless girl. I wanna fill in more care, strength, peace, hope and love to my soul, letting life add grace to my age.

At the end of it, Thank you and good bye to another fantastic year, you made me a bit wiser. Scooping up some hope, I wish the year gets so wonderful and adventurous and beautiful by all means, bringing the world to be at peace with itself.

I wish every one more of the best gifts of life, this year and every year to come.

Taare Zameen Par

2007-12-24T02:58:00.000-08:00

Did I just sign off with the best movies of the year after watching Chak De and Jab We Met ?Yes I did and looks like I was far too much in haste while doing so or that was just a superstition, sarcastically drawing a line on Indian Cinema. But I had to hold my breath and gasp in adoration because I just saw one of the most wonderful movies I have ever seen !!! Taare Zameen Par is something every one, in a child's life MUST see. The little nuances that mould a child, the tool a teacher has in making a great human being, the most sensitive and emotional bondings a kid develops with his family and a lot more that goes into the wonderful experience of growing up, the movie has captured it all in a way that must be seen to feel. A gem and a clear product of the genius in Aamir Khan, Taare Zameen Par has proved good cinema does not really require to follow a conventional formula, it just needs to reach the heart of a simple viewer, by way of a fantastic story, life takes us through.

College, A Memoir...

2007-12-17T01:58:00.000-08:00

I was in a scurry sorting out the books I read this year and stumbled over the college slam book, memories and friendships, signed and closed. Four years since it was last touched, yes, time hasn’t really permitted me to re-read those notes from the best years life could offer.

I lay on the couch, swirling a couple of strands of my curly hair and feel this trwaing-trwaing roll of white faded curls in a plain backdrop, taking me through these intense moments of college years; the best life has given me thus far.

The beautiful me - Haven’t you had this sudden transformation of getting conscious and more chilled out about your looks, as you enter college? I did, and I think it’s natural with all ‘cause until school was over, we were so used to projecting ourselves like nerds, you know, plaited hair, uniform, those boring black leather shoes, bags weighing our spines down all the time and all that. Nothing mattered more than marks those days, nothing at all. Thank god, I was finally rid of being an ugly betty. It was thrillingly fun to take time in the mornings to dress up and leave hair loose and wear all sorts of colored fabrics and head to college with a bag which carried more of CDs and fun books to exchange. This is the phase that actually made me feel the girl in me.

The first love – Well, they say, no matter how much life thrusts you with, the memories of a romance, which worked or did not will linger on for a lifetime. And I for obvious reasons, was not surprised when thoughts of those moments bubbled up, triggering goose bumps and a sense of bliss only love can bring. Waiting for each other in the class, exchanging boxes of chocolates, turning with a reason to talk to a friend but stealing looks, chit chatting on the phone till dawn and not being able to wait to get to college to catch up again, staying in the classrooms after college hours with a friend to guard the entrance, experiencing the beginning of what romance is, the special meetings arranged over annual and symposium days, the anxiety over a mysterious future, the last day of signing up autographs and bidding goodbyes, promising love for a life time and all the mix of joy and thrill and fear and strength and loneliness and longings, life can bring when you know you are in love, I don’t know if there is any other experience in life which takes you through a steep and exciting ride of emotions as much as love does. It’s been 8 years since I first had this guilty instinct warning me that I was falling in love. I didn’t want to, but eventually I did like every one else. The memory is still so very precious.

Friends - You finally learn to sit back, put an arm over your friend’s and let go of anything that used to scare you till the end of school - books, teachers, classes, labs, assignments, marks ,you just forget them all and smile. Those lunch hours, when we would sit on the fence, laughing over the silliest things in the world, forgetting the test assigned for the later half of the day ; the lost stares we would give each other while giving a test, I remember scribbling down the recipe of Vanilla Cake so studiously for an Electronics and Design test, simply to save the “you-people-are-hopeless” kind of look from my teacher ,which made my best friend burn in despair ‘cause she thought I was actually giving in the answers ; the nick names we used to carol around for almost every one; ganging up to spend some sleepless nights on the eve of exams, I remember calling up pals like at about 2 or 3 in the night, to discuss subjects; sighing out the relief on clearing semesters, partying over any and every reason with the little pocket money dad used to spare, oh gosh, why did College have to get over ?

Movie Reviews for the week.

2007-12-13T21:14:00.000-08:00

Jab We Met

I really had this smile on through out the movie. Amidst all the movies that have come out recently on confused and confusing boy-girl relationships, Jab We Met was like licking a melting cone ice cream. Simple and sleek, romantic and beautiful. Though with the obvious shadows of DDLJ in some parts, Jab we Met is the best one I could catch in 2007, absolutely. And yea, I never thought I would love Kareena in a movie until this one.

13 going on 30.

Jennifer Garner doesn’t look juvenile enough to me to do romantic comedies. But 13 going on 30 was the pick for her. It’s completely imaginary. I mean, having a 13th birthday someday and the next morning you find yourself to be a 30 year old and successful and thriving and rocking??? Ridiculous isn’t it ? But that’s what she goes through and I liked the adventure. A pick for one of those Saturday evenings when you don’t really feel like going out.

Ice Princess

A fantastic theme! Do what you really want to do with life. But the whole story as such did not really keep me to it, probably because they couldn’t add more fun to the seriousness of the theme. And the characters, I felt lacked a little strength, especially Casy’s (the female protagonist’s) coach. And yea, the story is by Meg Cabot? You know the author of the Princess Diaries series. Well, perhaps not all books look good when translated into movies, I say.

The Shringaram about Chennai.

2007-12-10T02:07:00.000-08:00

People, people every where, not a soul to stop around; that’s Chennai in a phrase to me. Every time I visit this place, the space has crunched further and people have expanded mercilessly beyond what the city can hold. Time seems to be a friend, long forgotten and nothing seems to stop to at least sigh. I don’t really care if you head up against me in the road as long as you don’t damage my car. I have no reason to tell you have been driving like mad because everybody does. People and more people, I was one among them and I had to like every 5 minutes, push myself a little harder to keep with the pace; when I had to place order for my food, when I had to ask the cab driver if he would take me to a place, when I was using the ATM or when I was paying my bill, there is a natural fast belt that keeps life on the move in here. Chennai, I would say, is a people’s city, the growth, the uplift in life style, the ever increasing space-constraint and all the facts that make the city as wonderful as it is, well, I can only think of one reason, people and more people.

It’s a cool December week, slowly creeping over the weekend and thankfully the climate plays a friendly host. I do not know the city. I don’t think I would ever, but I pretend to do so, conveniently when I speak to people and I believe it is to safe guard the lie that I knew the city and you couldn’t cheat. “This is not my kinda place, ma” I heard myself tell amma when she was talking about how quick the returns would be if you invested in Chennai’s real estate. When I told her I would rather invest in a place like Coimbatore, I saw her sigh and I think she told appa that I was hopeless in building money. Yea, that I am, I always knew that.

But strangely and almost always, I feel at home when I stray around the streets in Chennai. And coincidentally I have rarely had to put up with the city’s summer, prompting me to count another reason to like or dislike the place. I think I like it, I really do, but not in comparison with the other cities I have lived in. I expect more space and a relaxed pace to live life. I wouldn’t want to spend more time traveling than I would in the actual destination. I wouldn’t mind if it was crowded. But I need to have that time to stop and talk to a person, if in need. I don’t know, Bangalore is nothing short of crowded either. And the traffic is crazier because there is lesser space. People sprint for a hide-out which gets more crowded on weekends than how an office would be on a week day. I still have a never-ending crush for the place.

There is something new Chennai has in store for my each visit. The new mall Citi Center resembled Forum to me but surprisingly less crowded. I think I feel nostalgic about Spencers every time I visit and hence would choose to say Spencers remains the hottest spot to hang out despite getting a little older and withered. After hanging around the multiplex-and-branded-stored-malls for a day, it was and it has always been excitingly convincing and tiring at the same time to bargain and do street shopping through Pondy bazaar. After all, what would a trip to Chennai mean sans buying loads of goodies.

After a couple of days of romancing with the Singara Chennai, it was time to pack off and leave. On my way back from the city, my cabbie wants to know if I belonged to the place. I smile and give him a No. We were driving through Sterling road, Nungambakkam and the lights and the hoardings were brilliant.
“Can we reach in one hour ?”, amma asks him looking at the blocked traffic. He politely says, ‘I will try ma’ and the next half an hour he took us through the shortest but bumpiest routes possible, or at least we believed, to avoid the wait at signals so we get to board the flight in time. We smile at him thankfully after paying and he asks “inime eppo varuveenga?” (When will you come again)”.
“Varuvom, seekrama”, Appa replies (We will, soon ), signing ourselves out of the city.

Yet again, I get convinced by the truth that this is the thing that brings life to the popularly favorite Chennai, its people.

Top 10 reasons why I am not blogging much !

2007-12-05T00:02:00.000-08:00

1. Sitting jobless at office. This is not intriguing ‘coz when I really find time to do things I love, I don’t end up actually doing them. I can do things only when I make time out of the crazy schedules.

2. Reading, I have been into this 1-800-where-r-u series by Meg Cabot at office (now that I am actually jobless at office, there’s nothing wrong keeping company to a book, you see).

3.I find my fellow bloggers have become a wee bit sluggish too . I think I am losing the move-on spirit. Now, that’s not an excuse, I know.

4.Life seeming to have slowed down a bit, there isn’t much inspiring me to write about. May be I have learnt to love the I-don’t-have-time-to-breathe days. I could draw inspiration from my own crazy self.

5.I can’t stop mulling over why don’t I just quit this profession of writing software.

6.It’s discouraging when you know you just can’t and you can’t really get over it especially when you have all the time in the world to think about it.

7.My machine crashed yesterday and I had to let go of some of my important e-mails, let alone my favorite music and pictures.

8.Someone just asked me if my cat died. And I was like ‘WHAT?’. He didn’t bother to explain, but I guess I look like sulking over my cat’s death, but HELLO, I don’t even HAVE a cat !!! (Finger to self- That’s not a reason for not blogging).

9.I think I have really loved Enrique’s Insomniac. I have been hanging over it for the last one week, thanks again to no job at office.

10.I think I have come to the most factual part of it all. It’s insane, it’s dreadful, it can win your boss’s hatred for you. It’s called laziness and it has been my best friend for the last one whole week.

The last few days and my life !

2007-11-27T02:56:00.001-08:00

Call it the influence of Harry Potter and the deathly Hallows but that's how I felt like naming the post. Yes, finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, finally and it made a good read. After a lingering stretch of nonstop hunt and action and threat and a few very quick and unexplained deaths and some violence here and there, it was all well in the end and that was quite relieving. The author after a dreary 5th and an ok-to-read 6th series has patched up in the final book with a number of surprises and twists .The last chapter, after the strenuous read, was the funniest!!

Sunk in for an evening movie on DVD, after a long time, yesterday and it left me and my sis-in-law utterly bewildered on how can the director think of such a logic-less story. We had a good laugh, though, over the obviously stupid way the entire story progressed. I am talking about the recently much-expected-but-bombed (oh no, not Sivaji) movie Satham Podadhey.

There’s this new pastry shop out here in Trivandrum, called Square One Home made talents and this is slowly becoming my weekend hide out. You wouldn’t find too many variety eateries in this city so I don’t blame the sweet-tootheres to find it a welcome place despite the very heavy rate they price the pastries at. It manages to graciously burn my wallet with a profound hole. I don’t know, they have got this limited but scrumptious collection of some home made pastries and treats and I like it somehow. The waffle with maple syrup (I had to repeat it to myself studiously quite a few times so I could ask for it confidently the second time) is really amazing. For those who wonder at the word like I did for the first time, waffle is a wafer-like bar (harder and sweeter than wafer), baked and consumed hot and maple is a leaf that grows in abundance in the US, especially during fall.

And yea, they banned You-Tube too at office, after Orkut. Not too many days, I think, before they come up saying, sorry but we have found too many obscene usage of yahoo and gmail and google.

But anyways, that’s about it.

Whoever said the internet has made the world smaller…

2007-11-20T21:57:00.000-08:00

Wait a minute, the statement could be proved wrong, thanks to the customer care given by the Indian Airlines and Indian Railways.

Just assume you are left with no choice but to treat yourself with some annoyingly careless customer care, wouldn’t you expect the least of regard for your time and money?

Had to factually chase both the help desks, undoubtedly and unsystematically managed by the government, to get after all one ticket cancelled from my itinerary.

Indian railways online helpdesk : Thanks for contacting IRTC customer care, please press…blah blah…or 9 to speak to the customer care executive…
It’s ringing. I am ready with all my transaction Ids and other details I expected them to ask for , it’s still ringing, I assume the executive is busy on another call, it has been ringing for 25 seconds, I frown, The ringing tone gets transformed to a DDLJ title song, I say ‘nice, they can keep the callers entertained’, the music plays for about 10 seconds and whorls back to the normal tring-tring; I get bored; Wow, I can hear a voice, but wait, it says ‘ we appreciate your time, our executive will be with you soon’, I wait patiently; tring-tring; ‘Sorry your wait has exceeded the limit’ ; they throw me out of the call; I flip my mouth open, aghast; dial again and the same thing follows through my Call2; I don’t give up; Trial 3; no luck; Trial 4; still no luck; Trial 5 Luck worsens; call gets disconnected before connecting to the customer executive; I go determinedly vengeful; dial up the help desk to complain; I am in queue again, undoubtedly people are so natural to have complaints with the way things have been progressing; I wait; call disconnected – Total number of calls 6 ; Total time wasted – 38 minutes ; I silently curse the government and decide to try out Indian airlines cause I had to cancel an air ticket as well.

This is relieving. I immediately get connected !

Me: Hello, This is Sandhya, Could you please cancel one of the e-tickets …

Beep beep beep

Me: Hello, This is Sandhya, Could you please cancel one of the e-tickets that I had booked for the 6th of Dec …

He: Sure, ma’am, please give me your PNR number
Me: (Glad at him responding), it’s R***

Beep beep beep

Me: Hello, This is Sandhya, Could you please cancel one of the e-tickets that I had booked for the 6th of Dec
She: Pls give me the PNR no: ma’am
Me: it’s..

Beep beep beep

Me: Hello, This is Sandhya, Could you please cancel one of the e-tickets that I had booked for the 6th of Dec.
I was trying to speak to the customer care executive for about 3-4 times now and the call was getting disconnected.
She: I am sorry ma’am, Pls give me the PNR no:
Me: Its R*****

She: Thank you. Your ticket cannot be cancelled online.

Me: (Fury slowly igniting through my veins): I can book the tickets online but can’t cancel?

She: No ma’am , you can’t.

Me: What do I do now ?

She: You have to raise a request and mail the helpdesk. They will send you an application form. You have to fill….

Me: (now gravely desperate for a positive answer). Sorry, That might take time. Could I go to the city office and do the cancellation myself?

She: The city office will do only the postponement of the tickets ma’am.

Me: Is there no other option of getting my tickets canceled ?

She: No ma’am

Me: (confidently irritated): Alright, can I have the mail id?

She: Sure ma’am, it’s….
Beep beep beep

..........When will this change?

Tagged again !

2007-11-19T03:33:00.002-08:00

Thanks to Santosh for saving the puzzlement on what to post today !

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night?
Quite a few, dad, my sister in law, Aravind’s granny.

2. What were you doing at 0800?
Taking a shower.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Working !!! .

4. What happened to you in 2006?
So many things…got married, moved in to a new city, broke my arm…

5. What was the last thing you said out loud?
ohh..anything…I say IS loud…I think I said ‘Bye ‘.

6. How many beverages did you have today?
One.

7. What color is your hairbrush?
Pink

8. What was the last thing you paid for?
Marker pen.

9. Where were you last night?
Airport .

10. What color is your front door?
Coffee Brown.

11. Where do you keep your change?
In my bag, in a box in my showcase, in the car, which ever I access frequently.

12. What’s the weather like today?
Outside, it’s kinda ok, inside , I am feeling blue

13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor?
I prefer a combo of butterscotch n chocolate.

14. What excites you?
Almost everything.

15. Do you want to cut your hair?
Nope.

16. Are you over the age of 25?
Yes.

17. Do you talk a lot?
Yes, but only to people I am really close with.

18. Do you watch the O.C.?
huh ?

19. Do you know anyone named Steven?
Nope.

20. Do you make up your own words?
Yes, sometimes..

21. Are you a jealous person?
Nope.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’.
Anju.

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’.
Kumaresen.

24. Who’s the first person on your received call list?
Aravind’s dad.

25. What does the last text message you received say?
That my bank account is running low.

26. Do you chew on your straw?
oohh, I hate that.

27. Do you have curly hair?
Yes.

28. Where’s the next place you’re going to?
back home from work.

29. Who’s the rudest person in your life?
None !

30. What was the last thing you ate?
Chicken Noodles.

31. Will you get married in the future?
huh ? of course, not.

32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks?
haven’t seen any in the last month.

33. Is there anyone you like right now?
anyone ?? I like about hundreds of people.

34. When was the last time you did the dishes?
may be a month back when my maid was away.

35. Are you currently depressed?
not exactly depressed, but a little , hmmm..., should I say lonely ?

36. Did you cry today?
Nope.

37. Why did you answer and post this?
Reason1 : I wanted to update my blog
Reason2: I usually oblige to invitations.
Reason3 : I badly needed a break from the 4-hour long analysis I had been through.

38. Tag few people who would do this survey.
I think Scribbler hasn’t taken it. So am choosing her. !

She thinks I am crazy ! Damn !!!!!

2007-11-13T03:55:00.001-08:00

Doesn’t it usually claim the heights of sanity you are bestowed with when you deal with people who think you are actually nuts? Have I made it sound complicated? It IS, I know. And it’s maddening to concede that my sanity has been consumed by a person who cooks for me and takes care of my house. I have, with all due respect to my own conscience and her job, tried to make this lady understand that she works for me, not the other way round. But today, I helplessly crossed the threshold when she refused to listen to what I was trying to say for the 100th time. I mean every time there is something I need to tell her to do, she has this horrific body pain (which I later genuinely translated to ‘laziness’), claiming she had just done the work the previous day and starts making faces that throw questions on me like why am I talking utter nonsense so repeatedly with love. She tempts me so much to politely show her the way out, so many a time, but considering the fact that it’s annoyingly difficult to find a new maid , I know I will dig my own grave if I ask her to just leave. But today, after she started nagging non-stop for me using up some of the usually-not-used dishes, I was almost in tears, saying, “but why not..; but of course..the dishes are mine, the kitchen is mine, the house is mine…but her strong sadistic high-pitched voice killed mine. Those who complain I talk loud would be surprised, but it’s true and I contentedly decided to tell her “ma’am, your service has been terminated”. She will go by the end of the month (sticking to the monetary agreements), but I am sure she will fight her best unto death to eat up the remaining crumbs of my sanity till then.
Aaargh…for maids !!!

Let there be light to guide us to joy.

2007-11-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

I am on the splurge of blowing out my money on welcoming the brightest festival of the year. I am kind of getting lost in bewilderment at the inability to choose cause of the sea-like clothes in any textile shop or while crazily noting down the dessert-recipes to experiment, the season for sure lights up the festive spirit in all its might and light.

Diwali is celebrated, in honor of the day Lord Krishna defeated the demon Narakasura, although in the north, the reason is essentially the return of king Rama to Ayodhya after his endeavor with the punishing woods. Whatever the reason, the true quintessence of the festival in all means is the reinstatement of the fact that the Good wins over the Evil, no matter how feeble the good might seem. (Does Rama seem strong enough to win over a ten-headed Ravana?; but he did and books know how.)

May this Diwali bring in peace and light and hope and love to the world!
Happy Diwali !!!!!

around the corner..

2007-11-02T01:22:00.000-07:00

‘So, what’s the program for Diwali ? ‘; the question of the season. With all the hype and shopping ads built around this occasion, my heart has become only stronger and matured to accept the fact that I am going to be working for Diwali. My leave balance has hit such a level that I cannot dare ask for it. Sigh. If you planned to flick another off on Friday, clubbing with Diwali, you got it all wrong babe, the management knew exactly what you were up to and they said, for the goodness of a long weekend, let’s work on Diwali and save the celebration for Friday. There was this huge clean-up mission I have started to work on cause they say, goddess Lakshmi visits your house on Diwali. Well, I didn’t want her to take back her blessings seeing the state my study room was in, so I rather got into the mood to please her, cleaning up the muck myself. It would be fun to back home and celebrate with the whole family. New clothes and sweets and crackers; ohh, the ones with more lights and colors and less sound and smoke I mean. Why smoke up the city with loud bombs when the terrorists are already celebrating Diwali most time of the year. And yea, I am reading Harry Potter and the deathly Hallows(yes, finally) , saving the last few chapters to be read on the eve of Diwali, so the celebration this year would be for the victory of Harry over Voldemort, at least for me. Only joking to keep me forgetful of the fact that I am going to be hitting my key board hard when the whole world would be having fun. Mercy Lord!!

What's wrong ?

2007-10-30T04:36:00.001-07:00

What’s so wrong about dropping Dravid for a couple of matches against Pakistan? As far as my memory swirls, there has always been drop and pick-up-later panoramas with every Indian cricketer. This is not even close to being a drop out. The team is announced just for the first two one-dayers and they said Dravid was simply rested. So why so much hype around the news? Guys in the media, please chill down. It’s quite irksome to flick through a handful of news channels talking about the same thing over and over again like it is the gravest thing ever happened ! Does Doordarshan telecast news yet? I’ll have to ask my cable operator to broadcast DD with a wee bit of more deligence. I wish to go back to the good old days. Or does he already ? I never bothered to stop over. Sigh.

A Love that was arranged - Concludes.

2007-10-25T05:35:00.000-07:00

They talked about it again and again and finally decided to stop slogging over the discussion that found no solution.

They left the place when it was almost three hours, sitting there, and as they sauntered slowly, both of them were looking away from each other.

Anju’s mind was on a rove, that night , thinking whether she was taking the right step.
The discussion had grown to be a debate and eventually a cause of worry to both of them. They had spent hours talking on the phone. They had gone out, shopped and dined together and felt good about it all.

But this seemed to define and set limits for their future.

‘May be Ram cannot compromise. May be I am being too adamant to adjust Am I?. May be… May be we both cannot get along well. May be, arranged marriages always have opposite priorities. ’ It was an endless list of maybe’s that tormented Anju the whole night. And she was intrigued by the fact that she was taking the subject a lot more seriously than she would have otherwise and she had to put herself one final question , was she in Love with him ?
‘Damn, No. What the hell. I hate men and I don’t want to get married and I am not compromising on my career . My job means the most to me.’ She concluded and fell asleep, whilst the dawn cracked.

“Papa, I want to talk to you”. Anju said in a mushy voice, the next morning.

Anju’s father looked at her intriguingly.

“Papa, I want to quit my job. “

There was a silence and she was embarrassed by it.

“What are you saying baby. I know how much that means to you”.

“Papa, I hate to leave it , but …”

Anju’s mother walked in, looking at her grimly

“I want to travel with Ram. He would be away on work most of the year and I think it’ll be a dire thing to lead a lonely life, after marriage”.

There was silence again and Anju desperately wanted it to be shattered as she was astonished by her own words and the smile on her parent’s face.

“You don’t need to, dear”. Anju’s mother helped her break the stillness.

“Ram had called up in the morning and he told us he has decided to switch his workplace that would keep him here for at least a couple of years. He said, he does not want to be flying around the world, while you are here .”

Anju could not deem what she was hearing. Her eyes were wide open and she wore a surprised smile.
“Anju dear, we are proud to see you both ready to compromise for each other.” Her father patted her.

Anju ran to give Ram a call.

“Hello, Ram here”, came the answer.

“You changed your mind ! “ , Anju’s voice was still mushy.

She could not wait for an answer but Ram kept mum.

“I did not want this relationship to be tested too much”. He said, finally.

“Neither did I, But you said you wanted to go”.

“That was until the moment, I fell in Love with you “ , came the reply.

A Love that was arranged - Part 2

2007-10-22T05:16:00.000-07:00

She worked for a school, with the administrative department. She loved kids and loved her job. And she was so happy to spend the evenings either shopping with her mother or chilling out with her college buddies. She felt coerced at the thought of being pulled away from the life she was too acquainted with and more threatened at the thought of spending the rest of her life with a stranger.

And as she drove, she sighed at the fact that the day had finally come, when her parents would want her to get married and have another life. She thought about her college days. She had been a freak, back then. There were always some conceptions on marriage, on her mind. She had never been in love. Sometimes she wondered if she would fall in love and then get married. But she had never met a guy, she thought she admired. Anju had a few good friends, a couple of them boys. But they were just friends and the friendship to her was too noble that she never in the wildest hallucinations saw any of them as her boyfriend. A smile surged over her lips as she remembered two other guys who had proposed to her in college and the way she had just whisked both the proposals off.

And a couple of days later, they met. Anju and Ram were sitting in the park , as their parents decided to take a stroll around.

Ram smiled at her. “ I don’t know what to talk .” He smiled again.
” Mom and dad and more particularly my brother and bhabhi have been pestering me to get married for sometime and I managed to flee the whole idea. But now, they seem to have grown aggressive. And here I am, talking to you. “ He looked at her and they both smiled.

“So tell me, tell me if you don’t like me “ he tried to joke.

“Honestly, I have never given serious attention to the idea of getting married. “ Anju said, ” And mom and dad have not discussed it with me either, until they met your family. I am just happy with the school and home. But yea, Life cannot be the same through out. And they finally made me say yes to meet you up.”

And they talked for not more than 40 minutes. The chat invited topics on their interests, friends, the latest movies in town and their favorite restaurants in the city and then they badly wanted their families to come back.

So that was it. Anju did not have an answer when her parents asked her, later that night, if she found him boring.

“Mom, all I know is he’s a business analyst with an IT firm and he’s looking quite good. It’s too early to decide and besides we did not talk on getting married” .

The next morning, there was a call from Ram’s father saying Ram was ok with the wedding. And Anju’s parents were thrilled when she said,
“He seems ok to me. And if you people want to go ahead with the plans, I don’t want to say no” .

They could not believe what they had just heard. They were elated and Anju smiled.

Later that evening, Anju received a call from Ram. He sounded matured on phone.

“Listen Anju, they asked me If I liked you and I said yes, because there was nothing to be disliked about you, as long as our meet went. And I heard from pa that you have no issues as well. But I know it’s too early to commit on something as serious as marriage. Anju, err, if you want to take time before deciding, I would never object and besides, we did not talk about our life together. I mean your plans and mine.
Would you be comfortable quitting school. I mean, I would never ask you to, but
my work involves a lot of traveling. So I think, we need to talk over a few things that might crop up later.”

Ram said quite a few important things and Anju felt he sounded very serious. And she wondered if he was basically a serious person. And they talked for a couple of hours. But at the end of it, they had not convinced themselves that they were doing it right, because there were issues to be talked about and resolved if they wanted to go ahead with the wedding.

Ram somehow had the strange feeling that his career might disturb Anju’s and that would be a problem. And he was sure Anju would be thinking the same thing.

So, it was a fortnight, an engagement ceremony and few jaunts that had all happened between them.
There were more smiles with every meeting and once Ram tried to tease her, when a bunch of teenage school chaps giggled , as they recognized Anju, with him.
The evenings slid in as they indulged in more conversations and coffees and as the night got lit up, they realized it wasn’t too tough after all, to talk about life to a person who had been a stranger, till a few days back and would be the better half for the rest of their lives.

Anju knew, they both still had questions for each other, and more importantly to themselves. Sometimes she wondered if Ram was the kind of guy, she would be comfortable with and she frowned as she doubted if Ram was going through the same thoughts.

And this day, they sat in the coffee parlor and tried to talk about their Life together.

Anju told him she loved the school and he understood she wanted to continue working.
She felt too joyful to be involved with the kids. And there were events coming up and few big plans. She was expecting a promotion to the management unit. Her MBA had groomed her managerial skills finely that she was sure she refused to think about quitting work.
They both had careers they loved and that would draw them in two different directions. But they appreciated that they had decided to talk about it.

They tried talking of making compromises. But eventually, acknowledged the fact that they could not, as far the career was concerned.
They liked each other and had enjoyed being in each other’s company.

“But, this is Life, Anju. We need to settle on compromising something for us to think of a sharing a life” , Ram said, this time on a very serious tone. “If we cannot give up on something, I think it would be better to part ways, before issues get tightened:”

Anju looked at Ram in surprise. Was he hinting at calling the wedding off.

“Are you sure, you would not be able to postpone your trip or change your job ?” Anju wanted to know.

“Of course, I can’t, the most I can do is try and get another job that would keep me here”

“Can you do that ?”

Ram did not answer for a while.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to do that. I love my job”.

-- To be continued

A love that was arranged.

2007-10-17T04:35:00.000-07:00

“And so will I be “, Anju replied when Ram told her scornfully that he would be a lot more occupied with his business assignments, for the next one year.

She looked at him, took her eyes off and smiled, in perplexity over the Life that was arranged and hoped to be bloomed between them.

This was the fifth time since their engagement, Anju and Ram went out together. They were in a coffee parlor, down the road where Anju’s workplace was, to discuss the plans they had for their wedding. The first few times they met, they talked about the list of friends to be invited, the count of days they would be off work for, the places they would visit post wedding and the places to shop. They had enjoyed the conversation and they kept it light and friendly.

But this time, Ram seemed to be too keen on his agenda for the next year. He would be away at his client’s location for five months, immediately after the wedding. And he wanted to know if Anju was interested in accompanying him.

“The new project, I am sure, will keep me traveling around for a while. I am off to Australia, in about ten days after the wedding. Might take five months until I return.
And I will have to fly again in another month. Anju, I don’t want to amuse you, with all the travel stuff. It could get tiring. But I leave the decision to you. If you want to come with me, then we need to get your visa processing initiated and you’ll need to decide on your job” .

Anju gazed at him. She did not have an answer. She did not want to have one.
And she hoped Ram would understand her silence. Ram looked away, thinking his plans might have intimidated hers. They sat in silence and watched the world go by, bending down occasionally to sip their coffee. This was the first time, since their two-week courtship, they had talked less and felt a bit uncomfortable.

Anju and Ram were engaged for a week now and had known each other one week before the engagement. To both of their apathy, it was arranged. Their parents had met over a common comrade’s wedding and the tête-à-tête deduced to the point of getting their offspring meet up. If they would feel ok with each other, things would be great. And that is precisely what had happened.

“Mamma, I don’t want to get married now. And I am not meeting anybody. I can’t believe you just fixed up something as important as this with out even asking me ! “
Anju was in plain anguish, over what had been discussed to be arranged, when her mom told her two weeks back about the proposal that had come up.

“Beta, we are not forcing you for this, in any way. We are simply asking you both to meet up sometime and see if you can get along at all. I promise that will be all. “

Anju’s mother tried to put her hands on her daughter’s cheeks as they spoke the same thing for she did not remember how many times, that day.

“And If I don’t like him ?” Anju snapped.

“We are not even going to think about it again”. Her father assured her, as he gently pressed her shoulders, from behind.
Anju sat there with a cranky mood and managed to listen as her father continued.

“We are never against your wishes, sweetheart. And we have always loved to see you live by your choices. But now that you don’t seem to have anything else on your mind, why not give this a try. Just a try and that’s it . You are 24 and mom and I feel this is the right time for you take another big leap in your life. And who knows, this could be the best thing to you. “ he smiled as he looked longingly for a positive gesture in his daughter’s eyes.

Anju replied. “Okay. Bu if I don’t like him, don’t even bother to pull me again to this crap, until I decide to get married. “

“Never, never”. Anju’s mother’s voice was relieved.

Anju smiled at both of them and picked her bag as she checked on her watch, ready to leave. And she drove off in her two-wheeler.

--- To be Continued

For the love of it and me

2007-10-05T04:32:00.000-07:00

You are fortunate if you can reach out to a pair of sneakers when you know you are good at running and are raring to go. Your sneakers could be your cubbyhole to walk on the muck, to run graciously on the patio or to casually give a jaunt along with a fellow adventurer. They are of use, anyways. But the roads you choose to walk on, says not about the fortunes you make but all about you and the swashbuckler in you.
The sneakers I have adventurously chosen to ride with is this experience called blogging. The roads I enjoy to walk on are instances from my own life, inspirations I derive from the world around me , my dreams and imaginations, my work of ramblings, possibly politically correct or incorrect or just about anything that makes sense to me. As a baby, when I entered the world of blogs, I was lost in wonder to see the bold and positive expressions of talent and imagination in each one of us. Some blogs made me scowl in disgust, I must say. But my take in general on the whole blog world was ‘wow, why didn’t I discover it till now! ’

After about half a year of being a blogger(I started extensive blogging only this April, though I had an account created since last December ), I feel nourished to have groomed the writer in me and to have found people who make me smile sometimes in adoration sometimes in humor sometimes in empathy sometimes at the mere fact of how astonishing it is to experience the freedom to be yourself with what you want to say and to remark on what others have to say about themselves or the world or me. I read other posts and most of the times it happens so that I don’t realize that it has brought a sense of worth or joy to my day until I finish reading it. I blink and go ‘Wow’. Sometimes when I read and unconsciously hit the last line of the post, there is still a smile on my face, shrugging off the fact that I have wasted 5 mins of my life reading it. But the experience was worth the smile, anyways and hones the sense of responsibility in me to continue what I have begun, for the good of my own soul and the people who invest time and energy to read my thoughts.

I blog because I know there are things to be shared between people who think alike and who think differently.
I blog because I believe we all have fascinating stories happening with us, all the time.
I blog to independently express what I feel and face to accept what you have to say, even if we disagree. I call that maturity and am glad I have it.
I blog not to win hearts but to share the intellect that you and I are blessed with.
I blog not to get offensive or obnoxious about the world simply because I have a page of my own and some people to read it but to be transparent and clear yet careful and responsible about the freedom to express.
I blog because this is a fantastic world in its own, making me experience life altogether again.
I blog because I love the writer in me.

I look up at the road ahead with joy in heart and love for the feeling of walking, jogging, trekking, trailing on my own road with this new pair of sneakers I have found. Wow! A long way to go !

Battle in the War

2007-10-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

It was a lousy dusk
Clogged by the mundaneness of a war

A war battled on for time so long
and losses so huge

Grasses shed blood and stooped low,
paying homage for brave were the souls
that lay but flesh now so numb
numb with the war, numb with death

It was a war that warned of danger
but never of the end
It was the body and the soul in it
that they had to offer to the war and to the fellow warriors

And it went on until they died
leaving their dreams behind their hopes ajar
and Love so incomplete

The loss brought little difference
to those who woke up to fight again
for they knew they would be killed soon, as well

But they battled to keep the spirit in their souls
To hope to go back home ,
to live onthey battled anyways.

Now, this will not go to the Trash can!

2007-09-27T04:32:00.001-07:00

After having shared with you my familiarity with books-that-you-start-to-hate-once-you-read experiences, I must talk about this. Something that has come to my relief after a long wait. This book is called ‘The Hindi Bindi Club’.Caught a glimpse of it on http://www.curledup.com/. The synopsis was catchy and that lured me to read it. Well, I never had to regret, really. All about the relation between mothers and daughters, migrated to the US from India who are confused, torn apart between cultures yet prudent about themselves. A cache of some very warm conversations, thoughts and yes some scrumptious Indian recipes. Now, I am not gonna deny completely on the point that it is a girly book. It is in its own way. It however stands out in the way the strength of characters are projected. A good Tea Time read !

Up, Up and Away

2007-09-25T04:36:00.001-07:00

The best fact about mere existence is that Life is full of surprises all the time and I wouldn’t be surprised if this truth is declared the soul spirit that keeps me going.
Anyways, it wasn’t a smooth ride all the way, for the whole of fortnight and to cream it up, fever from the deep down jungle has kissed me down. Sometimes it makes you feel nice to cruise through the tough times, loving the resilience that life has bestowed you with, isn’t it? Quite a handful of advice, suggestions, some serious instructions and some scorn, but there is a kick out of moving on , racing along with a smile on your lips and faith in yourself .
Life will get back to normal, that’s assured. But you would have a greater sense of strength.

All said, my life for sure has slowly turned to normal and above all, I am back to blogging !!!

2007-09-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

My friend requires a laptop of about 40GB hard drive, 3.5", 1.44MB Floppy Drive (Modular) and the likes with atleast a period of 3 years warranty. Would Compaq presario be a good choice ? I personally would suggest Sony VAIO. I donno to choose between the two.

GioVane

2007-09-10T05:15:00.000-07:00

That’s what we christened our Team with for the week long events/competitions scheduled between 4 different teams at my work place. They made me do a write up on why ‘Giovane’ as a Team name, which is to be presented over the first event, ‘Team Branding’.
And this is what I did about it. By the ways, Giovane is an Italian word, meaning YOUNG. The phrase within quotes is a flick from ‘quotable quotes’ .

It takes faith in the young heart in you to determinedly stay young even when Life moves on to bring in a higher count to your age. "There is an innocence within me that already knows how to trust my Higher Power, to cherish life while holding it lightly, to live fully and simply in the present moment. I will allow that part of myself to come forward and nourish me as I continue on this journey”, That was an extract from the book ‘Courage to Change’. And if I were to redefine it, I would look within to derive the sense of light, radiant and bright.

Life can’t stay young forever. But the mind within can even outlast life. I can trust the power within myself. I must be a big boy. But I own a flair for my innocence. I must be still young. I can look ahead at the future with courage, thanks to the experience Life has given me. But I will forget tomorrow while I play this moment to the fullest, thanks to the young heart in me. I am so focused on the target, the victory that I want to make. I can feel the maturity in me. But I love to see the spirit in my opponent and enjoy playing with him. I can feel the kid in me. Life will grow old , but I never shall , I only want to grow UP. I am eternally young. I am GioVane.

Oh, a Welcome Change !

2007-09-05T05:05:00.000-07:00

I saw Chak De India and it’s absolutely brilliant. I mean to have come up with an attempt to make a bollywood flick with king Khan (me not particularly a Shah Rukh fan but I think he’s really talented), 16 average looking new girls and a story that whirls around the national yet one of the least popular sports of the country , I think, is so brave and positive. I loved the movie and the Indian sprit drawn about it, especially during the 60th Independence celebration season.

So all those movie makers and money lenders who firmly believe to go by the conventions of film making, think about it, the latest sensation is of stories on sports. Chennai 600028 is another fresh change I recently enjoyed. There is fresh air around. Isn’t it? To me , as a fair appreciator of good cinema, I am loving it.

Princess of Hearts, 10 years on...

2007-08-31T04:34:00.000-07:00

Ten years on and I still feel a sense of dampness when I watch her videos or read about her. With so much to reveal and so very much to hide, I have always been really snoopy about what was it with this lady that made her quite extraordinary.

Wasn’t she a real princess who genuinely tried to use her influence and power in a way that mattered? Reaching out to the helpless and the needy and maintaining her sense of poise and smile despite having reportedly a broken home with a very unhappy personal milieu was truly princess-like. I mean, she could have still made some news if she only made royal appearances at the Wimbledon finals every year and hosted regal dinners to the most illustrious political folks from the world. I remember to have read somewhere that only out-of-no-choice did she let herself indulge in social activities to flee from the trauma she had to experience from her busted marriage. All the same, she did, whatever for, and continued to go by her heart’s choices and that made all the difference in the world.

You will always be the best real fairy tale princess the world has known, rest in peace!

I am okay today, but tomorrow could be anybody's.

2007-08-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

The news is now outdated as there very well might have been other devastating calamities that would have rocked the lives of other innocents. It’s a heart breaking truth to digest that human life is no more guaranteed to rest in the warmth of peace and safety.

I was nerve wracked to see several naïve lives being torn off in the Hyderabad bomb explosion, last week end. The politics as I could see however finds its home in the hearth of security, after claiming no hands what so ever in the happenings around them. What the devil does the terrorists need after all ? Our lives? And claim what? May be this is something we have repeatedly asked ourselves to find no answer. Life has been kind enough to count us out so far from such barbaric misfortunes. But it’s terrifying to think of how long will I or my loved ones get spared. I get cynical about the government of the largest democratic nation when I come to think of how safe I am tomorrow. May be this is again something we have repeatedly asked ourselves to find no answer.

In the least after we have lost, like always I could only silently send a prayer, may God bless the families of those whose life had been seized off for nothing by a mob of ruthless folks and may the souls of every one who died, dies or will die (God forbid) at the hands of such cruelty in the world rest in peace.

It’s Onam !!

2007-08-24T04:51:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of the year in Kerala when you find almost every one in the traditional wear of cream colored sarees/dhotis with silky weaves of golden zari, gleaming lustrously.
Schools and colleges have shut down for the yearly Onam holidays and children are thronging the streets in full spirits.

Florists and weavers have turned intensely joyful for their business just flourishes to the maximum, this season. It gets me wondering to look at the quantum of flowers imported from the other states during this time of the year, alone.
Corporates in Technopark have been making merry for the whole of last two weeks traditionally marking the onset of the Malayalam month ‘Chingham’. Everywhere you turn, there are competitions of Athapoo, wherein people make floral Rangoli, Thiruvaathira, which is a traditional dance by girls around the athapoo and onam songs .The festive sipirt is in full swing all around the state and if you do want take a jaunt around Kerala, there must be more eventful excitements of Boat races and Onasadhya (Festival Feast) happening all around.

Nonetheless, Onam marks the homecoming of the beloved King Mahabhali who won the hearts of people for love, generosity and humility. I hope and believe the true essence of celebrating Onam is to mend again the sense of caring for fellow human beings and be truthful to the self and then you wouldn’t need to look anywhere else for God.

Hmm…that aside it’s a visual treat that I get to enjoy being a non-keralite and the most wonderful part of it all is that we have a 4-day long weekend up ! I am blessed !

Too many,Thank you , A good one please !

2007-08-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

This is the umpteenth book I am chucking after having been half way through. It is annoying because you have spent about 3 to 4 hours of your life, reading it and through the middle of the book you discover the story is taking you nowhere and you don’t particularly agree to the persona of the protagonist and so, well, you decide to go ahead and close the book down for good ! Anything wrong ? Nope, but it happens almost all the time with me. Yesterday, after having reached about 280 pages in a 500+ paged book called ‘Wedding Day’ by Catherine Alliot, I had to scowl cause there was nothing more to the pages I read than how things were on page 1. I usually make a profound research on the book and its reviews on the internet before I decide to start reading it, cause I think we need something more on the blurb of the book other than the excerpts from the story and the usual, ‘New York Times Best selling….’ blah blah. A good book is that which keeps you guessing what would be happening next and should eventually prove your guesses wrong, irrespective of its genre. And if book review websites can sometimes surprise you with the high star ratings they offer a book, which might seem just mediocre to you, perhaps it’s better to take the good old way of walking through the bookshelf and letting the instinct randomly choose one. But then again, I run a risk of picking a bad one.
Too much for being choosy, I say.

Dave in INDIA

2007-08-20T04:21:00.000-07:00

Dave is eccentric after his plans for the valentine’s day had taken terrific response from his estranged parents. Fed and Sophie had in all ways decided to sit and talk things out for once, for they could in fact realize that out of every one in the world, Dave undeniably still fancies for their ‘Red Tulip Cottage’ to come back to life again with the trio . Despite all odds that has taken the relationship for a toll, Fed and Sophie do miss the life they had together, somewhere implicitly. It is just that they could not get as expressive as Dave.

So Dave finally got them say Yes to venture out for a holiday. And the choice wasn’t too difficult, with Dave always wanting to visit India, (he would naturally have the urge to meet the one who created him, right?, pretty obvious ! ) . So here they go, all packed and seated in Air India from San Francisco.

Fed and Sophie are not particularly comfortable yet with each other, though.

Air Hostess to Fed : Would you like some Tea/Coffee , sir ?
Fed: Some Tea please

Air Hostess to Sophie : And you ma’am ?
Sophie: I am fine, Thanks

Dave hisses to Sophie : I’ve read it’s not really a hospitable gesture in India to deny a welcome drink.So, go ahead and accept it, mom.

Sophie : I don’t feel like , Dave. Now stop acting like the know-all, alright ?

Dave to the Air Hostess: ‘Namaste’, my mom isn’t really keeping well. She cannot take tea or coffee at the moment. I’ll have a cup of coffee, with milk and about half tea spoon sugar and some honey, please.

Airhostess: Of course , Is there anything else I can help you with ?

Dave : Nothing for now, Namaste

Airhostess : Namaste .

Fed : Since when have you started liking Coffee ?

Dave : I still don’t like coffee, dad. That’s for you .

Fed : Really ? Thanks, but I have had my share of Tea, so you really don’t have bother, Dave .

Dave pours in the coffee into Fed’s emptied Tea cup and terrorizes him that if he doesn’t drink the coffee , he would pee right on Fed’s T shirt.

After a while

Fed has gone sick after having had treat himself to a mix of tea and coffee and that has kept him disappeared from the seat for quite a while.

Dave is indulged in a magazine (Sophie is sleeping), when the beautiful airhostess offers him a pillow.

Dave: Oh, Thanks .

She offers him two more , possibly one for Fed and Sophie, each.

Dave: No Thanks, Mom doesn’t really like pillows and I don’t think Dad would be back soon to sleep.

Airhostess: Alright

Dave : That was a wonderful coffee, by the ways. Thank you.

60 and still young !

2007-08-14T06:01:00.000-07:00

60 years of freedom to be ourselves and it’s truly historic !

It means so much to be part of a nation that has emerged from the grapple of an alien governance to the largest democracy in the world. Economic reforms, Industrialization, international capitalism, IT boom, there has been so much happening and I wouldn’t really know but I am damn sure there is so much to boast of and am extremely proud of it.

And oh yes, they always remind you to focus more on the areas to be worked on, especially in times of celebrating your strengths. On a more serious note, we know there is a long, long way to go and India, after all the restructuring that has been positively happening over 6 decades, still remains a developing nation. I wouldn’t really deny if someone told me, the growth has particularly made the rich richer, ok, may be not, the poor poorer, but with the population shooting up helplessly beyond an accommodating limit and all the fancy development happening with the metros, there is a lot more to be accomplished to strike a balance between the urban and the rural India.

Keeping faith in APJ Abdul Kalam’s dreams, I would love to believe that India would indeed turn a superpower by 2020! But 13 long years cannot build a super nation by itself and that’s perhaps the reason why you and I are still young and raring and faithful. Some one beckoning and we cannot be away.

At this moment, though, I feel like just carelessly whisking off all the imperfections that we live with (No nation is perfect, right ?) and I am raising my glass with all festive spirit in tribute a nation that is a beautiful blend of good and bad, right and wrong, dark and light, success and failure, you and me !!

Saluting my country that has a big heart and a deep spirit, we call it home to the world, INDIA !!

Tagged !

2007-08-13T04:31:00.000-07:00

I must do this because Gomathy and Chriz have got me tagged.
I am reckoning a few things about myself/my life which are/were either special or funny or embarrassing to me or simply something to remember.

1. I used to hate eggs when I was young and would stealthily chuck my morning eggs onto the farthest horizon possible, and simply would pretend like I had them all. This did not go on for long ‘coz mom was intelligent enough to figure out from my happy face that I had not really had them, or I wouldn’t be happy at all.

2. I want to fuse all my likes into one point and that could get pretty long. I would try and get this done anyways. I like people who are warm and friendly yet honest and genuine with others (I am always enthused by human behavior), loneliness (sometimes), getting nostalgic with memories that bring a smile, changes in the way things look, music, experimenting out various things that might be beyond my capability (I might fail most of the time but I enjoy the experiment anyways), face cream, reading in candle light and quite a handful of things more.

3.I sometimes wonder at the change in me, that has taken place over the years. I mean, I have had my own share of time when I really used to feel uncomfortable with new people, new place, new timings etc. But I now I have learnt to enjoy them.

4.I am writing a book (yet to be titled). Yes, so that should hopefully make me an author, sometime this year or the next.

5.I am really scared of water bodies. I once, out of sheer enthusiasm, got on to some steep water slide and almost got drowned and I thought I had been swept by water to the deep sea. It was so embarrassing and I felt ridiculous when I was lifted off the water by the guards and I was screaming like I was getting pulled out of the Atlantic ocean.

6.I once fell flat on the road while walking alone but had to pull myself up and resume walking like nothing had happened. I was embarrassed to the core.

7.I had known Aravind for about 7 years before I married him.

8.I donated blood today for the first time and I feel awesome about it.

Now I don't think I have anybody from my Blogroll, who is Untagged yet. Every one whose blog I read are already tagged.

May be, Gomathy, should I just end the game here ?

Just Like that . . .

2007-08-09T04:30:00.000-07:00

My Job is running for the last 20 minutes (I am a software engineer, so I frivolously choose to go by the common techie man's phrases) and am here, hitting enter every five minutes and slowly feeling a sense of fulfillment, as I see my files getting successfully loaded .

Meanwhile, my Life around me at this moment is nothing really exciting but interesting and it goes like

1. I had got a new cubicle mate, yesterday and we got instantaneously friendly with me having to help her with the installation of printer and the like, but today it’s a new face again (I don’t know where the other person is ) and I haven’t even said a ‘Hi’ to her yet. She looks really, well, grouchy.

2. I am listening to Rang De Basanti after quite a long gap and wow, I love this album.

3. It’s almost 4:00 and Smitha and Pinko (my team buddies, ok, he is actually Jisho, but we call him Pinko, for reasons best known to us ) should be here anytime now, nudging me for the traditional ‘coffee Break’ .For me, it’s the heavenly Banana Fry break.

4. I want to tell my manager that I will be on half day leave tomorrow, but I am sure she is gonna look straight at me like I am always here to give her a headache.
(May be I should just bunk ).

5.The flowers I got for Friendship day have gone pale. But I don’t feel like taking them off my desk. They were given with so much of Love.

6. I have just taken about 2 sips of water today (Gosh, I’m gonna have to suffer from dehydration).

7.Yipppee….My job has completed fantastically with zero errors !!