Sunshine Over The Mountains

Come take a seat in my time machine

2012-02-13T22:51:00.000-08:00

The other day I went to the local flee market (a.k.a Sarojini Nagar) with my mum. Usually one has to hunt through many disastrous pieces of clothing to find something that one likes, but that day proved lucky for me. After spending months thinking about getting some dresses made, replicating vintage ones I'd seen in blogs; I was pleasantly surprised to find a few at the flea market! The fitting was not perfect for the two that I got, but that's nothing that couldn't be repaired.

The weather in Delhi has been quite relentless this past week. The days warm up for comfort, and provide a perfect picnic atmosphere. However, the nights go back to reminding us that winter hasn't left the building (thank you, thank you verymuch). So to make use of a sunny day, I brought out one of the vintage dresses today. I also wore mum's old sunglasses, that are big and beautiful, and really comfy. The whole outfit made me feel like I had taken a trip back to the 70's maybe, and I loved it.

I find myself drifting towards vintage more and more these days. Whether it be art, interiors, blogs, books or in this case, clothes. I get the feeling that one really can't go wrong with holding on to bits of the past. It also excuses my pack-rat like behavior!

The self photography session went from normal to sepia toned to a take on movements in only a few seconds. I blame the dress.

DIY Paper man

2012-02-09T04:42:00.000-08:00

Another day, another DIY project! Well the other day I was rummaging through a desk in my room (I seem to have gotten into the habit of doing that) and I found an old paper craft book which incidentally belonged to my brother. It had a lot of lovely shapes in it, so I thought I would try it some day. I must admit, paper art is not the easiest thing for me, since one has to be very careful and gentle with the paper, two qualities I certainly do not possess when it comes to craft projects. But after a few trials, I did get it right, so I share the technique with you.

What you will need: Craft paper (I used white since it was readily available at home in bulk, but choose any color), A Scale, Paints, Brushes, Water bowl, Glue, Paper cutter, Scissors.

Cut the paper into a fairly large square. It will become much smaller after all the folds. It is pretty confusing to explain the technique in words so I have illustrated it below.

If you have trouble while making it, don't fret. Take a fresh paper and start from the beginning.

Once I made the final body and head (it took me a while), I glued the open spaces between the paper. This isn't really needed as the structure is quite stable, but I wanted it to be more firm as I wanted to continue to paint it. I chose stripes, like shown in the book, but I chose to paint it green and white. It is always a good idea to pencil in the pattern before painting, because personally I get absent-minded and end up making mistakes, which I suspect many people do.

It is also a good idea to paint the back of the puppet. It looks less messy that way. Once the little guy is fully painted and dry, it is time to decide where to keep him! If you feel like making him do some acrobatics, it's quite simple.

Just use some old rope that may be lying around and a single hoop (like a singular earring that has lost her mate). Put the rope through the hoop so you have something to hang it by. Make holes in the arms of the puppet and knot the rope into it. Your hanging paper man is now ready!

You can keep him anywhere you feel he'll be at home. I for one think think he enjoys the curtains, with all the sunlight streaming in.

There's a story in these pages

2012-02-07T07:12:00.000-08:00

As I rummaged through my house looking for items I knew I was never destined to find, my attention went to some old books that have been lying on a shelf for ages. I then spent the next hour or so going through these books; carefully reading the old yellow pages, examining the cover and the embossing of the titles and marveling at the beautiful illustrations on some of them. It was crazy of me to think of getting back to the work I was actually in the process of doing at that time!

There is something about an old book that is always intriguing. Much like an old door (another fascination of mine) it looks like it holds a lot of mystery. I stare at it and wonder what it's story would be, apart from the words written in it. The pages were once milky white and the smell of ink was still fresh, but that was many years ago. I think of all the people it might have met, before finding a spot of quiet oblivion on my book shelf. Each tear and discoloration was a part of its character, and added immensely to its beauty. And with all that and more that I held in my hands, I was of course, tempted to take a few pictures.

The first page of 'The Story Of My Life' by Hellen Keller

I used to love reading Enid Blyton books when I was little. This is a very old edition of one. My favorite part in her books was when the children would go on a picnic and eat scones (imagine that). Somehow all the food she would describe that would bring so much joy to the characters of the book seemed so appetizing.

I was only able to go through a few books before I was rudely awakened by my own conscious to get back to work. One day I plan to sort out all the books in the house, which will be a very painstaking task, so I'm not in a rush. But coming across these books was certainly the highlight of the day.

Sick on a Sunday

2012-02-05T06:40:00.000-08:00

Being ill sure helps in giving you rosy cheeks

Isn't it the worst feeling to be sick on a Sunday? I am a freelancer, so the whole concept of weekdays and weekends doesn't really apply for me. But I am always aware of a Sunday, and the rules of the day (being as lazy as possible) still hold true in my head. However, this Sunday was a major disappointment, and I spent most of in a cold medicine induced sleep-coma in bed.

Now I am awake and neither have the will or the want to go out anywhere. So I am spending the remaining few hours of the day reading 'The Catcher In The Rye' by JD Salinger. It is helping me recover as much as any controversial novel would.

My bedside table is my nurse today, with all that I may need, including an old ceramic dog I fondly call Wooster (as in Bertie Wooster from the Jeeves series. He looks quite gentlemanly to me). In this drug induced state, I find a great desire to plan out my next week. However, all the visuals that come to mind are running on a treadmill while reading, and eating a hearty veggie salad. And I think writing about such topics would be as boring as actually doing them, so never mind.

I recently finished reading The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde. I had read a part of it in school as a part of my English syllabus and always wondered how the story ended (don't ask me why I waited so long to find out. I won't have an answer). But in it, a character talks about having created a fictional friend called Bunbury, who is eternally invalid and is a perfect excuse to get out of social obligations (he called the act 'bunburying'). I would be the perfect Bunbury for someone right now.

I should hop back to shape in no time, no I'm not fretting about it. Here's hoping everyone else's Sunday was not a let down.

DIY Rustic photograph holder

2012-02-04T00:43:00.000-08:00

It all started with books. A friend told me about Flipkart.com, and when I checked the site out I was amazed by all the books it had to offer. In fact, it had every book in my wishlist. And a few days after placing my order, there they were waiting for me at home! After the initial excitement of receiving a parcel in the mail (Isn't it a lovely feeling?), my focus turned to the box it arrived in. I don't know what my state of mind was at the time, but it looked a little like a window to me. And so it began. I found it a great recreational activity, extremely simple and a welcome break from the computer screen. So, here I share it with you all.

Items Needed: Cardboard box, Paints (depending on your color scheme), Brushes, Mixing palette, Color pencils, Craft paper, Scissors, Glue, Stencil. Additional items can be anything you may want to work with, including shape stamps, post-its, lace, etc. And lastly, don't forget the newspaper!

1. Paint the cardboard box depending on your chosen color scheme. I have a soft spot for a blue door against a white wall, so those were the base colors I used. Be generous with the paint, covering any and all prints on the board. Don't be afraid of it being uneven; it works well with the final look if it isn't close to perfect.

2. Once properly dry, paint the general outline of a door in front as well as on the back of the board. You can stick to the conventional hue of your color scheme, or go crazy and use a totally different color! Remember to wait for each paint layer to dry before you proceed to the next step. Use color pencils to give the texture of wood on the doors. If you have trouble visualizing this, take help from a picture of an actual door.

3. Stick the lower end of the box with the parts replicating the door. Also stick the top to make it look like a sun-shade. This is the basic look of your holder. Now is the time to let those creative juices flow. You can stamp a pattern on the main frame, or you could use craft paper. I used a red craft paper to cover the frame, and cut out a creeper to give it some texture on the side. The doors can be left bare to give the look of an old window, or can be made a little more interesting using post-its. The lines from the Pink Floyd song 'Wish you were here' are stenciled on to mine.

If you feel the frame looks too simple, there are many more things you can do. For example, cut craft paper in the shape of plants and stick them to the back of the balcony. Colorful threads can be used to give a more arty look of clothes wires. Lesson to be learnt, don't limit your imagination.

I am very happy with my little blue window. I find it a perfect way to display old pictures (something almost everyone has in excess) as well as some interesting looking postcards I collected, which otherwise would be tucked away in a cupboard. It now holds a welcome spot in my room.

Oh, Most dazzling precious treasure

2012-02-02T09:12:00.000-08:00

As pretty as doorknobs

I have now become a permanent visitor of Hauz Khas Village. This is why, when a friend asked me for a location to meet, it was the first that came to mind. After we met, had a hearty lunch and some scrumptious desert, I took her around the unending maze that is this place. I also took her to Khazana India, which I had discovered some time back. A shop quite aptly named (Khazana means 'treasure' in hindi); this room of innumerable art and artifacts is a delight for anyone. One can spend hours going through all that it has.

The owner, Mr. Sarna was nice enough to allow me to quiz him for a bit. Being in the export business since the 50's, he recognized the talent in the artist's hand at the time and collected various items of beauty. He also accurately predicted that in the coming years the art of the hand would slowly trickle down in existence, which made him treasure his possessions even more. With time, his collection of valuable memorabilia grew and he felt the need to send them out to the world again. This is how Khazana India came into existence.

As I sit with Mr. Sarna, he talks about the different antiques in the shop and the passion with which they were made. As he points out things around me, I am pleasantly surprised by his knowledge of all that he owns. I ask how he manages to do so, and he smiles and says it's because he picked each item out himself. He has such a personal connection to each item in the shop that he fails to name his favourite. He does, however, mention books kept in his office, such as an autographed copy of A History of India by Jawaharlal Nehru and the 11th edition of the Britannica. He talks of a self synchronized wall clock from the 1970s, which he is determined to fix. Lithographs from the 1800s are probably the oldest items there.

When he's not working, Mr. Sarna loves to travel. With a list of places so long it puts me to shame, he roams around the world and always picks up antique items that he feels are beautiful and appealing. A reason for this is the current fusion of Indian and Western taste. Another step in this direction is also a restaurant opening right above the shop. Being consistent to his love for vintage, he plans to decorate it with his acquired treasures (including fans with wooden blades from the early 1900s). If the energy of the restaurant is anything like that of the shop, it is sure to do well!

Khazana India is filled with almost everything one can think of, but my personal favorite is the big stack of vintage Bollywood posters. I am currently in possession of two such posters, one of Khilona (starring Sanjeev Kumar) and Guide (the Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman classic) The first is painted in a style reminiscent to Impressionism (yes, I know a little about art movements). The other is sketched bright and loud. And I am in love with both of them.

In the light of day, You better change your crazy ways

2012-02-01T07:02:00.000-08:00

This should be sufficient to explain the title of the post

It is officially the first day of the second month of the new year (try saying that one really fast) and I'm sure you will agree that January went by way too quickly. I have done a fairly good job keeping myself busy with a combination of work and play ( I will not mention the ratio of course) and I am sure February will not disappoint.

In the past month I tried my best to document most things through photographs. I have a pretty decent camera at home but have never quite used it. The blog gave me the perfect reason to familiarize myself with it and I had a lot of fun. The excitement of my new toy did result in some stray photographs that couldn't be featured either because they were a little silly, or were irrelevant. Now I look at them in a depressing folder titled 'Rejects', I think at least some of them should get a moment in the light. So here are some of the fellas that didn't make the cut last month.

Have a good month, everyone!

And do the hip shake, baby

2012-01-29T10:29:00.000-08:00

On a sunny day like today, wearing an owl necklace may not have been most apt but the little fellow stared at me in the morning with those big black eyes and I decided to take him along. Being Sunday I half expected to spent the day under the blanket (unlike the last one). But my body seems to have adapted to the weekly routine and I was up and out to join Flavor of Art yet again for a day of sketching. Today we went to a college holding a painting competition for children, and tried some quick human sketching. The pleasant weather and warm sun made it a perfect day to be out.

The open field was a sea of yellow caps; children completely absorbed with the task of painting something unique. They took their work very seriously and were determined to have their names called.

A rather funny sight was the barrier made for the parents. They weren't allowed beyond a certain point and many stood on the other side looking concerned. Some came ahead and shouted out to their kids, but were promptly told by the organizers to step back. It was a good idea because the children could then concentrate solely on their work, instead of answering some pretty inane questions shouted out from across the field.

The event reminded me of ones that I participated in, many years back. However, compared to the lovely things the children made today, my work was quite uninspired. Their work today ranged from social issues to landscapes and portraits. It was amazing!

Lastly, on my way home I heard a song on the radio which pretty much got stuck in my head (as always). After some searching it turned out to be 'Shake your Hips' by Joan Osborne. The original is by Slim Harpo. I found myself bobbing my head and singing along, much to the curiosity of the traffic around me.

Hope you all had a lovely Sunday.

Bookworm Posts: The Raja Is Dead

2012-01-28T04:40:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned before, the number of books I read last year really put me to shame. This year I plan to read many more. I don't want to lose out on all the extremely interesting literature that is out there on account of my own laziness or habit of procrastination.

The beginning of the year was celebrated with a short trip to the beach with the parents. Apart from the five bottles of sunscreen I carried in my bag, I took along The Raja Is Dead by Shivani Singh. The book, which was brought home by the big sister when she was in college (so about 6 years back. Yikes!) had been lying in my book pile for the longest time. So I figured it was about time I gave it a read.

The book is about the time right before Independence in India, when royal families were aware of the impending change in the country but were weary of the change in their lifestyle. The caste system was still strong with the Rajas holding the top spot. The plot, however, is a work of fiction set in the royal household. As the name suggests, it involves a murder and almost everyone is a suspect.

I really enjoyed reading this book. The narrator is the granddaughter of the raja, who finds herself stuck in the middle of a royal mess. In the heat of the situation, she decides to find the culprit.

The manner in which the practices of that time were described by the narrator, in almost a matter-of-fact sort of way, made it very easy to visualize the story. The characters felt real, even though one wouldn't find them very easily in modern India. The mystery of the murder was a little loosely held in the book and at some parts I found myself a little anxious. But the mixture of charm and pretentiousness of the royals made up for it.

The mixture of a good read and a great surrounding made it a wonderful vacation for me and the folks. I had reached a level of saturation with the city and was extremely happy getting away from it for a few days. It was a good start to a new year.

Moral of the story: Adventure sports are fun

2012-01-26T10:55:00.000-08:00

Happy Republic Day! (and I am now officially addicted to making gifs)

Today being a national holiday, many of us woke up much earlier than we usually would on a working day to travel to the outskirts of Delhi for some adventure sports. A brainchild of a bunch of extremely hardworking individuals; the plan was a wonderful one and involved about 30 people in total. The patriotic spirit of the owners of the destination was evident with the Indian flag merrily flying in the wind. I tried clicking a few continuous shots. However, the crisp wind made it very hard for me to hold still!

The area had some very interesting activities lined up for us. The first was rappelling. Now I am aware of the daredevils out there, and I salute them. However, I will be one of the first people to admit their fear in situations involving coming down from great heights, especially where the person on top looks about as big as your thumb when viewed from below (yes I measured.) Rappelling was one such scenario. The fear didn't consume me though, and I managed to travel down without any scrapes or bumps on the way.

Rule #1: Don't look down.

As we waited for our turns, a herd of goats passed by the mountain top. One of them hopped around us, jumping from boulder to boulder, finally stepping on to the steepest one and calmly looking down like she was standing on a stool. Such a show-off!

Rule #2: Use all the safety equipment you want but no one can outshine the mighty goat.

Rule #3: The person handling the ropes is your new best friend.

Apart from rappelling we drove quad bikes around a large, dusty track that made me feel like I was a part of a chase around the desert in a movie (Isn't it weird how we can imagine ourselves doing crazy things, but only if it were a part of a movie or show? The control the screen has over our minds is alarming!) We also played a game of paintball. We were given a specific number of pellets to fire, and I was one of the first to finish mine aiming and not hitting players of the opposing team.

The day was spent quite productively, if you ask me. All of us who went to the place shouting and laughing came back half asleep. It felt nice to get out of the city for the day, like a mini vacation from it all. I hope to get some more pictures of the activities from people. After the initial shots, I was unable to take many more. Whenever I do, this post will be the first to be updated.

Long live the nerds

2012-01-24T10:18:00.000-08:00

This is my first post under the label 'Self Expression'. To give a little back story I would have to travel to November of last year. I had completely forgotten about Halloween, for which I had thought of dressing up in a weird outfit to shock random strangers at a public place like the mall. So, to make up for it, I used various items I could find at home (dad's shirt, formal vest, hat, etc.) to dress like Clark Kent for my first day at a freelance job. I was pleasantly surprised to find that absolutely no one mentioned my outfit (they probably thought I usually dressed like that). Not only did that day give me an idea for this blog, but it also reinforced my belief that self expression is a wonderful thing.

Coming back to today, the event I was to go for was, for a lack of better words, totally nerdy. So, to make the experience more fun, I decided to 'dress appropriately' for the day. Imagine my disappointment when I found out (once I got there), that the event has been shifted to tomorrow! And that was after finding the perfect parking spot and proudly smiling at the guy behind me who was also eyeing it. The day wasn't a total waste, though. With a long list of to-dos in my head, I was half relieved by the change in date.

I love my specs! My grandfather says I look like the Indian version of Betty from Ugly Betty (Jassi)

Nerd away!

Patterns galore

2012-01-22T10:37:00.000-08:00

Humayun's Tomb, New Delhi

This Sunday was spent quite productively. Having followed the group Flavour of Art on Facebook for the longest time, I decided to finally get over my Sunday-morning-routine (waking up, telling myself it's Sunday and falling asleep again.) to join them. The decision proved to be the right one as I met a bunch of extremely interesting people, explored a monument overflowing with history and got to brush up on my amateur sketching skills.

The moment I entered the complex, I walked to the main structure. After spending some time watching the other people there (it's a habit to observe people's behavior in various environments, to a point I assume is quite improper), my attention was drawn to the architecture of the monument. The most prominent thing I noticed about it was the variety of patterns used in the construction. I curse myself for forgetting my camera at home, but I did get a few shots from my phone.

Pillars and window screens on the main structure

Many components like pillars had a mixture of geometric patterns and patterns from nature. Some others had seemingly hap-hazard shapes which made lovely pieces of window art when repeated. The ease with which the elements were used by the artisans of that time amazes me. They feared no shape, a disease that often plagues many of us.

Six-pointed star in various parts

Six-pointed star above the entrance and exterior arches

Another interesting aspect is the use of the six-pointed star in the architecture. At first what seemed like a simple use of a common shape, the star was found above the entrance and gracing the cenotaphs (empty graves with the real one in the basement), and I soon realized that it probably held some cosmic importance..

Apart from the structures, the morning tryst with nature was very refreshing. The place is a sanctuary to birds like mynas, parrots and hawks; who very frequently invaded the skies (I wore a hat.). It was a treat to visit the garden tomb of Emperor Humayun (which research tells me is the first one to be made in the Indian subcontinent!). Here's hoping next Sunday upstages this one!

Eleven things in 2011 (Part II)

2012-01-20T02:29:00.000-08:00

A continuation of the previous post. And to update the ones who have just joined in, its the second part of a list of things done in the last year.

6. Helped paint a wall: Having had a pretty long absence from the paint brush (I tried my hand at oil painting in the school days. My lovely subject- my pet labrador!), it felt nice to get out and paint. A friend and I decided to make an island with musical instruments and paint it bright and loud. We even wrote our names right on top so that anyone who saw the psychedelic island knew it was ours. Another smart strategy (can't take credit for that) was to paint right next to the name of the cafe, so that our masterpiece featured in any pictures taken of the wall. ;)

7. Visited USA and lived the tourist life: What started as a trip to attend a cousin's wedding (first wedding in my generation :)) turned into a typical tourist life for 3 weeks. From clicking pictures next to celebrity imprints and visiting enormous theme parks to visiting famous restaurants and posing in front of popular attractions; we did it all. My favorite part of the entire trip was the last week, which I spent (sans the folks) with my sister in New York. I got to explore the city, eat a lot of scrumptious food and meet many fun people, thanks to her.

8. Felt humbled by the universe: It's a pity we weren't taught about the universe in a more interesting way in school. From what I discovered, its fascinating! I stumbled upon some videos by the History Channel on space, and it kept me hooked for the longest time. Understanding our place in this universe is an important thing. For one, it is extremely humbling. If all human beings understood how minuscule they are in the grand scheme of things, they would get over their pride of being 'the superior species'.

9. Experienced some time travel: No, I didn't invent the time machine, but I did get to relive some of my childhood days for a while. My sister visited New Delhi twice last year, and any time she comes it feels like we are transported back to our school days, minus the hassle of studies and such. We crack the worst jokes and laugh like crazy, sit on the couch all day watching stuff and eat all the unhealthy food Delhi has to offer. Ok, maybe its much better than the school days.

10. Ran a mini marathon: I have always wanted to run a marathon, a full 42 km one. However, I must be realistic about my inability to do so...now. Delhi hosted its annual half marathon and I was totally excited to take part (as were my brother and a friend). What started from a desire to run the 21k soon became the decision to run the 6k because of a lack of training. However, the whole experience was very eventful and buckets of fun. We ended up running atleast 10k, the remainder of the distance being spent looking for the start line! The confusion also lead to us running a part with the half-marathoners and getting pictures clicked like we had done the whole thing (no wonder we looked so fresh and happy). It was also a wake-up call for me to be a little more fit, which I work on...occasionally.

11. Held on to the things that matter: A not-so-routine cleaning of my belongings at home lead to finding items from my childhood that literally got me bawling like a baby. I am a self proclaimed pack-rat, and I try to let go of that quality. However, sometimes it leads to the most wonderful findings. The memorabilia found now holds an eminent place of display in my room.

The new year brings with it a new slate, to be filled with atleast 12 interesting things to note done. This time I plan to start early. How about you?

Eleven things in 2011 (Part I)

2012-01-17T11:44:00.001-08:00

Taking inspiration from the numerous blogs I follow, I decided to list down some of the notable things I did in the past year. The number was chosen for obvious reasons. At first, I worried that the list might not get completed (thereby reinforcing the smidgeon of doubt in my head that I have infact, become really dull). Thankfully, it did, with a few things not making the cut. Phew! For the purpose of comfortable reading, I divided the post into two parts. Here's the first.

1. Moved from Pune to New Delhi: 'It's weird how some things turn out.' If I were to narrate anything about my life, I'd begin with that sentence. The beginning of 2011 had me make some major decisions related to my career. For various reasons, I decided to leave my job in Pune and head back to New Delhi. A big part in this decision was a desire to test out the variety of work I could do as a freelancer. It was heartbreaking to leave a city with so many memories and such dear friends. Pune has given me some of the best days of my life, and I will love it forever. But I have no regrets about my decision.

2. Became a part of an impromptu photo shoot: I am always ready to be a prop in my friends' artistic visions. Luckily for me, two of my closest ones turned out to be quite talented. My best friend from college (and roommate for four years) transformed her interest in makeup into a career choice. My best friend from school deflected from an electronics major to take on photography! The two of them got together for a test shoot and I was more than willing to be a part of it. The theme was a mixture of sinister and naive. It was a lot of fun.

3. Reinforced my confidence in writing: I have always been drawn towards the pen and paper (or more accurately, the keyboard). However, with no background in the same, I always wondered if I was good enough. So, too see if I was, I applied for a job as a writer at one of the most popular magazines in the world, Cosmopolitan. The day I was told I got the job made me happier than a room filled with sundaes! I never did take the job (for reasons I won't go into now) but it did make me feel great.

4. Attended some really interesting exhibitions and events: Delhi didn't fail to show me its cultural underbelly. Having heard about it like a myth, I was and am hellbent on defining it (to myself) as something besides unsafe, pretentious and polluted. So, along with a friend or two, I discovered the talent it possess. We attended photography and art based exhibitions, watched folks jam it out in drum circles and took part in rallies to reinforce the things that mattered.

5. Read ten book and reviewed five: It shames me that the number is so low, and in the following year I hope to quadruple it, but I did get to read a variety of books, and was given a chance to share my thoughts on some of them. Helter Skelter is a wonderful online magazine that is gracious enough to ask me for my opinion. You can check out my latest review on the book, Hot Tea Across India by Rishad Saam Mehta.

More to come soon. :)

New year leads to a new look

2012-01-17T02:28:00.000-08:00

The new year is upon us, and we have all, whether happily or otherwise, welcomed it into our lives. Those of us who may be consumed by the whole 'world coming to an end' drama, I suggest should make 'Live today, worry tomorrow' their personal anthems. I, for one, feel extremely inspired this year. One of the results of this is a whole new look for my blog! The reason for this is simple: I was bored of what it looked like earlier (I wish I could have had some profound reason for such, but that would be whole lot of b.s too early in the year) . The work is a constant one, even though I see the finished look near the horizon.

A task which I considered minor did turn out to be quite a mammoth, mostly because of my own indecisiveness. I would find a theme to install online, proceed to install it and figure out the html codes, make many many changes in the html (all trial and error) and end up disliking the look in the end. Then I would start from scratch. Finally, I am set on the basic look of the blog (for now).

Apart from my blog, I also find myself anxious to learn new things. These range from interpretative dance and sign language to interior design and sewing! I haven't made any of these my resolutions since that term has received too much negative press in the past decade. Instead, I call it my wish-list for 2012.

Wish you all a happy new year, and here's hoping we make the most of it. :)

Surviving the holidays

2011-12-03T08:37:00.001-08:00

After months of being hounded by writing.com to take part in their daily quick writing contests, I finally succumbed. The prompt given was 'Surviving the Holidays'. I immediately thought of a character for the story. Psychologists and some such enthusiasts will concur that this character stems out of my own personality, but it does not. I personally love the holiday time, full with decorations, gifts and well wishes. It is a joy to be completely focused on celebrating.Can't say the same for this guy, though. Here's the piece I wrote:

I open myeyes to the familiar smell of winters. The warmth envelopes me as I dread thenext few seconds in which I must find the mental strength to step out of bed.Just like the swift motion of removing a band-aid, I jump out to feel the piercingchill for a moment, and then slowly regain myself. It’s the beginning of December,which means that Christmas and New Year are just around the corner. Others maylook forward to the inane excitement of it all, but as you may have guessedby now, I do not. I find no specific reason to celebrate something that hasnothing to do with me, and affects me in no way. If you ask me, the holidaysare just a man made scheme to make a quick buck from a sea of unsuspecting guineapigs.

If you thinkthis sunny disposition of mine is a recent development, it is not. I have notsuffered a devastating blow in my life, not yet at least. I am just one ofthose rare people who are above anything else; realistic. I look at a glassfilled with water, and call it what it is, a glass of water that is probablyfilthy by now with everyone staring at it wondering if it was half full orempty, but no one actually drinking it. Growing up people would lovingly referto me as junior Grinch, and I would smile and say ‘At least I get all thepresents for a while.’ This loving reference changed into a scornful comment asI grew older.

Today is oneof those days I find myself excessively honest. It is lunch time, and I alreadytold my mailman that I would get my mail faster If it were dropped whiletransporting and dragged to my doorstep after being stuck to people’s shoes,and informed my cook that her food should be given to the lab for inspection ofmutation. They both swore under their breath and walked away.

The holidayseason has that effect on me. I find it a pain, and people are well aware ofthat. Maybe that is why I am never invited to any parties, or asked toparticipate in any gift giving. It’s all for the best I suppose, I doubt Iwould like anything people gave me. And vice versa.

Wishlists and what-ifs

2011-10-30T13:00:00.000-07:00

Today I finally registered for a marathon in Delhi . Ok, since I found out about it late and had no time to train for it, I will take part in a really small part of it. But I will be a part of it nonetheless. Now I see myself running the NYC marathon soon (but then again, I see a lot of things in my head. spooky.) The excitement got me straight to the park for a jogging session. The amazing weather our city is seeing these days made the trip all the more delightful.

As I was jogging and trying my best to keep my mind off how little stamina I actually have, I thought of all the things I have wanted to do. In college, a burst of enthusiasm got me to list many of them. As the years went by, more things were added to the list than subtracted. Running a marathon was one of the first five.Today I wondered what stopped me from actually doing said things. I wondered as I admired the pretty parrots on a tree. I wondered as the dog outside the fence was sniffing the ground. I wondered as I noticed the little drawing on the board next to the entrance. Then, just as I passed a couple of aunties gossiping, it struck me. 'Nothing is stopping me!'

I, like many, am a creature of habit. But like many, in my head I hope to do a whole lot. The result of this is that I have a big list of what -ifs and why-nots, and an embarrassing list of 'I did its'. What stops me is probably one of the key factors of what makes me 'human'. I make excuses for why I didn't learn an exotic dance, or haven't taken the time to paint the wooden patch in my room; but in the end I lose out on a whole lot of happiness. The joy I feel when I think of the marathon approaching is proof of just that.

What is the solution, you ask? Well even if you don't, I will tell you. There is no solution. Just as the guy who walks in front of me will always spit a few inches away from my shoe, and the auto wallah will always overcharge, the rest of us will live our lives, occasionally doing something we wanted to for a very long time, and otherwise doing what we always do. It may sound disheartening, but its our own choice.

I for one hope to get out of this routine that plagues me. And maybe I will. Here's hoping all of you do as well.

New york, baby!

2011-10-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

As can be predicted, I fell in love with the big apple. Apart from admiring the intensity and stamina with which the people there live their lives (including my elder sister), the city itself seems to be breathing life into whomsoever resides in it. I spent about two weeks there, and the entire time went by in a flash. It was only in my second week there, one spent living with my sister, did I really get to explore the city. Every morning I would set off with a metro card and some cash in hand. I would travel by subway (which apparently is the proper way to address the mode of conveyance. no one calls it a 'metro') to a certain point, after which I would walk. And in the process, I think I walked around the whole of Manhattan. It didn't feel odd for a second, because hundreds seemed to join me wherever I was walking to!

A special mention must be made of the great variety of scrumptious food that the city has to offer. I know, coming from a city also known for its food, this quality shouldn't strike me as extraordinary. But as I see it, a beautiful scenery must always be appreciated and the same holds true for good food. New-yorkers are proud of their bagels and pizzas, and they sure should be. Add to that a slice of cheesecake, and you're pretty much set to take your role as an over-weight couch potato. I hoped to see a whole bunch of chubby people around said food (to free me from the guilt of overindulgence), but another thing that the people there seem to treasure is their physical fitness. The fact that I was constantly overtaken by business folk talking on their phone certainly helped to prove it.

I left the city with a mixture of feelings. I felt proud that I had crossed most things of the mental checklist I had prepared before I went there. I felt relieved that I only experienced the good things the city had on display, while secretly wondering if I would have managed to survive the bad. Most of all I felt sad, for leaving my sister whom I had the most wonderful time with, and the fact that the next time I enter the city I certainly will not enjoy the luxuries I took for granted this time around.

A much-needed break from routine

2011-08-22T12:33:00.001-07:00

Ever since I have started working as a freelancer, I have found that this choice is sometimes synonymous to being a recluse. I find myself stuck in my house, staring at the laptop for days on end. The idea of going out cannot enter the mind till the job is done, and unfortunately as fate may have it, the job is never done!

So the fact that I was given the opportunity by my kind parents to join them on their trip to the land of the yanks was received in the obvious jubilant manner. Since that time, I have looked forward to this trip, maybe even given it a little too much importance in my head. Subconsciously, it is a chance for me to let loose and be the clumsy-and-lost fool that lives trapped inside me right now (Creepy, I know)

After all the anticipation, that day arrives in a little more than a week. Out of the many plans I have made, one important one is to document the trip in a manner that really excites me - in a journal with a mixture of sketches and words. That's right; the first of hopefully many travel journals. Before starting the journey, it is customary to map out the itinerary, so here is where all I will be going.

Books...books...books

2011-08-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

Well, I will start this post with a big apology. I know I haven't been too regular in updating this blog, and I have absolutely no excuses. I have been suffering from a lack of inspiration.

Getting back to the post, for some time now, I have been trying to read a variety of books. Each book was chosen depending on the state of mind I was in at that time. For example, for the days I reminisced about the days of childhood gone by, I chose a book about Roald Dalh, the master storyteller. For others day when I mentally exclaimed 'The world is crazy!', I chose One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. I also picked up Old Man And The Sea to have something to associate with the wonderful animation I have seen. Gearing up for some travel abroad, my book of choice now is Unaccustomed Earth. However, what precedes the joy of possessing a new book to read, is the activity of visiting the book shop!

There's something about spending time at a book shop that can be very calming for some, including me. The idea of being surrounded by all this literature, with the millions of stories and plethora of information can seem quite overwhelming. However, it is always the good kind. One is enveloped by the smell of paper and is excited by the variety of colors of the different book covers, all joining in to create graphical harmony.

It's safe to say it is one of my safe places (the place you imagine yourself in, while meditating). The only thing left to do now, is meditate!

A story in progress...

2011-06-29T14:18:00.000-07:00

Here is a tiny part of a story I am currently working on. In the days to come I may modify it beyond recognition or even scrap it completely. But at this point, here is what it is.

He woke up to the sound of rain. Glancing out of the window, the whole sky was filled with parallel lines of water, all flowing in unison. Some people felt greatly at peace watching rain, and others complained of the inconvenience it caused to their daily routine. He felt nothing but indifference.

The two bedroom, one bathroom, hall and kitchen unit was his realm of existence. To step out of it was a desperate attempt for survival. Whenever he did so, it was to stock up on items he needed. For him, it was like travelling to outer space; putting on an unnatural suit, planning the mission, following it diligently, and under no circumstances straying from the predefined path. The thought of it made him nervous, and he regretted the days that led up to it, trying his best to delay it as much as he could.

His days were all the same. Breakfast was a quick bowl of cereal and coffee, sitting at the dining table and staring at the painting hung across it. Every time he looked at the painting it seemed different. Breakfast was then followed by bathing, grooming and dressing as if he was going to office. But he didn’t go. Anywhere.

The rest of the day was spent out on the tiny balcony attached to the hall of the house. Sitting there and watching people pass his building. Watching children rush to school, get back and then soon run to play. Watching stray dogs roaming around the roads, wagging their tails at the security guards, who proceeded to pet them and give them bits of bread. He listened to the domestic habits of the people around him. He could hear the afternoon soaps being played in the apartment next to him. Little arguments couples had over futile matters such as a person’s tone. Elderly people coughing and spitting out phlegm. The people around him saw him observing them. They earlier tried to smile and be neighbourly, but when they got an uncomfortable response they wrote him off as a case of mental imbalance and proceeded to ignore him. In all these years, not one of them had seen him smile.

Plans...and the lack of execution.

2011-06-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

I am a self proclaimed planner of my own life. In fact, I have taken on this role so seriously that on an almost daily basis, I think of something else I really should be doing. Whether it be tiny little things like trying to get up earlier in the morning (I like to think I work in a different time zone, which is why my timings correspond to that) and following a daily diet to more long term ones like what I want to do in life (yes, that too changes on a daily basis); I have found myself making new goals for myself regularly. One such day as I was reading random articles, I found a piece on how we should never reveal our plans to anyone, otherwise we never do it. Tried it. Didn't work.

As I hung my head down in shame and nodded disapprovingly at my habits, I got to the next part that said that most people make many plans and most of those are not executed. So, I'm not alone! It's true, I guess. We all make plans that somehow don't happen. We think of wonderful trips with friends that leave our heads the moment a new topic is brought up. We decide to start a hobby we had kept on the shelf for years, start said hobby, and proceed to make excuses for how we can't keep up with it. We make statements about how our lives will be in the near future, but secretly get dissuaded by our fear of failure.

I wonder, why do we all plan so much? The closest answer I can think of the fact that the future, near or distant, is largely unknown to us. Sure, we have our routines. But we are also aware of the fact that tomorrow is what we make of it. The thought of the freedom to do what we want leaves us with wanting to plan it. The truth is that there's no solution to our predicament. It is in our nature to do so, and we will continue.

I hate to end this thought on such a inconclusive note, but then again, there is some appeal in the unknown, right?

Birds of Pray

2011-06-19T11:53:00.000-07:00

One moment I find myself holding a pen and paper, trying to think of some ideas for a design/writing task that I have encountered, and the very next moment I find myself doodling. Stuff like this. Just as my mind is telling me to shift back to work, I think of colouring the doodle. I am quite happy with the outcome though. Be back with more soon!

So true....

2011-06-01T13:00:00.000-07:00

The recent days have seen me doing some random sketching. I have also been reading a wonderful ebook, called 'Hey Whipple, Squeeze This!' by Luke Sullivan which talks about copy writing for the ad world. In it, the author mentions a quote by the novelist Isaac Singer, which inspired the sketch.

Troubles of a Superwoman

2011-05-24T12:25:00.000-07:00

I happened to come across a 'flash fiction' contest on a website. The prompt was that the character is a superwoman who is terrified of kids (Irony, when will you stop pursuing me?). The most challenging part of this seemingly casual topic was the body constraint of 200 words. As I came to realize, a) I write a whole lot more than is needed and b) Editing is a pain in the posterior. So, here's what I entered:

There I stood, face to face with my biggest fear; children. ‘Hold on’ I stuttered, as I grabbed hold of the end of the roller coaster they were stuck in, and pushed it to ground level before it could plummet. The three preschoolers were sitting in the front, which made it possible for me to manipulate the back. The second I brought them to safety, I ran at lightening fast speed, getting as far away from them as possible. I had to stop myself when I realized I had entered a different continent, at which point I ran back to the amusement park, to assume my role as a spectator of the event.

People cheered, chanted the name of my alter ego ‘Miss Magnificent’. They looked around to see where she’d disappeared. At this point, they might have glanced at me adjusting my spectacles and tidying my hair. But they wouldn’t suspect me to be her. To the public, I was a regular newswoman, noting down an act of heroic proportions. Maybe if they had x-ray vision like me, they’d see the shiny blue and green bodysuit under my regular formal clothes.

Five Things You May Not Know About Me

2011-05-18T05:13:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the idea that people today have overlooked the basic concept of 'getting to know others', I was wondering what I would say were the five things that a distant friend would not know about me. Here they are:

1. I am obsessed with my weight. Yes, I am one of THOSE people. Growing up, I used to be on the chubby side. The same was true when I entered college. The first year of college was spent sampling all the delicious cuisines of the new area (Pune, India). This certainly didn't help my situation. So, by the end of the first year, me and a very good friend of mine decided to join the college gym. It took both of us three years to lose all our baby fat, but we did it. Since then, my biggest fear is getting it all back!

2. I may be a Leo, but I'm a closet Pisces. Whenever some one has asked me my sun sign in the past, I have told them and they have proceeded to respond in the same way. A look of slight confusion, a repeat of what I said (Oh, Leo?) and the words 'You don't seem like one.' It's true, I may be born under the sign, but I mostly have the qualities of a Pisces (quiet,a little lost,random....) It's not a problem, I get to celebrate two birthdays then, don't I?

3. I really enjoy fashion blogs. I can easily call myself uneducated when it comes to fashion, and I don't take a lot of effort to look good when I leave the house, but I do enjoy blogs where people put up pictures of what they wore. These people are from all around the world, and wear all kinds of wacky combinations in every day outfits. It is very interesting!

4. I can have anything with peanut butter. My favourite breakfast spread is dosas with peanut butter. I also have it with biscuits, chips and parathas. Fun fact: Peanut butter is awesome. (And even though I love peanut butter so much, I don't like plain peanuts. Weird.)

5. I am shit scared of ghosts. I do enjoy a good scary movie from time to time, but if it really freaks me out (which in most cases it does), you will find me clutching the pillow, closing my eyes and muttering 'I don't want to see any ghosts' many, many times. I will then proceed to sleep with the lights on.

I'm sure everyone has such things about themselves. Noting them down turned out to be quite fun, so I would urge you all to try the same.

Can you repeat the question?

2011-04-28T13:02:00.000-07:00

Does life imitate art? Or art imitate life? Well, today I found myself imitating both! Ok, I don’t mean to confuse people, but right now I seem to have confused myself. What I meant was that today, I went for an art exhibition. I am no art enthusiast, let me just clarify. However, not knowing something has never stopped me from doing it, trying all the time that I blend in the whole time. Sure it may lead to some truly embarrassing situations. But the secret in those cases is: Grab any evidence that it ever happened, and deny it if asked.

Anyway, let’s get back to the topic. The topic of the exhibition was Logarithm of Light. It was an abstract representation of graphs, using bright colours and different media. I know, heavy! The problem with such subjective topics, for me personally, is that I tend to get stuck trying to understand the work of art. I stare at it, till it becomes an optical illusion. Then I blink, rub my eyes, and stare again. My mind tends to drift, and after a while, I realize I wasn’t even thinking of the painting any more.

And that is exactly what happened. As I continued to stare at one of about 30 paintings in there, I entered a state of suspended animation. I wondered what it would be like to put people on exhibit, telling every one how quirky/weird they were. I have met so many such specimens in my life already, I could surely think of some who would fit the criteria of display.

For example, one could read ‘The exhibit shows all the qualities of being an intelligent life form. However, when examined and interacted with, it was found that she lacked basic sense. When told this, she proceeded to giggle and flip her hair.’ Now such an exhibition I would instantly understand!

Mentally present or not, I did enjoy the experience. Needless to say, the artist (who was present at the exhibition) thought I was a very deep thinker, who was examining each painting intently. Ahh… Mission Accomplished!

When poetry lost its mind....

2011-04-23T13:08:00.001-07:00

Ok. So as I go through my last posts, I realize that I may unintentionally be passing off some of my irritation on to the Internet. And that's not the purpose of this blog, is it? Why make it serious, when here's a chance to be funny!

So the other day, with lack of any intelligent thoughts in the noggin, I wrote a poem (I imagine all the poets of the world shuddering at this very moment). So, for every one's amusement, here it is.

When I was 5, I thought a while, that playing was all that I'd do
But then the girl, next to me hurled, and just like that I was through

When I was 12, I thought, Oh well, at least I have a jump rope
Then I skipped, and badly tripped, and lost all skipping hope

When I was 18, I thought a scene, in which I was the lead
But sadly still, I found no will, film makers with no need

Now I am 22, a sad old shrew, and I look back fondly and sigh
And wonder how, I got here now, and how fast this time went by.

Yes, I amaze myself with my eloquence.

Annoying puddles

2011-04-22T05:35:00.000-07:00

I am not a person with too many complaints. In fact I usually live my life with the ‘If it makes you sad, move on’ mantra. However, one of the things that always has me fuming is watching people stain the roads with their bodily fluids. I don’t mean to be uncouth with this statement, but most of you will surely agree with me.

I don't believe in taking a vehicle everywhere, so usually walk short distances. And whenever I do, I can spot more number of spit marks on the ground (increasing in number as I walk) than people on the road. So bad is the situation these days that it would take a person more effort to dodge these disgusting puddles and avoid bumping into people who are publicly urinating than it would to stay clear of traffic.

As I am thoroughly disgusted, I also wonder what it would take to make these people stop. I came up with only a few ideas.

Firstly, they could be told that a higher being frowns upon them every time they dirty the streets. This higher being would of course, have to be some one along the likes of Amitabh Bachhan, since religious blackmailing rarely works these days.

Secondly, they could be told that doing such things spreads terrible diseases. I’m sure a rumour as such would do more good than harm. And if not, there could be a prompt follow-up saying that ‘after doing tests, it was found to be incorrect’.

I remember the time when Cyrus Broacha of MTV Bakra fame, would walk up to people urinating at the side of the road, and ask them 'Bhaisahib, yeh aap kya kar rahe hain??' as a part of a show. Silly as it was, it did make me smile wickedly, and think 'Serves them right!' Its a shame the show got cancelled. I assume someone out there (probably a closeted road-urinator) didn't find it quite as funny.

Copy Cat

2011-04-17T06:19:00.000-07:00

When one thinks of comparing our film industry with Hollywood, one of the things we all thing of (if not shout out loud) is Imitation. People have the right to disagree if they please, but might I remind them of the name of our industry (B-ollywood?!)

Recently an English movie, starring Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston was released here. After watching its trailer, everyone (me included) was shocked at its resemblance to a David Dhawan directed, not-funny-but-just-plain-lame movie. 'Has it finally happened!' I gasped. Has foreign cinema suffered such misfortunes that it must look to Mr. Dhawan for inspiration? Even the thought of it left me stunned.

The world of imitation cinema flashed before my eyes. I remembered Bappi Lahiri's Aooa Aooa, and how much fun it was to sing; till I heard its English original 'Video Killed the Radio Star'. I thought of all the songs Anu Malik had copied, making me want to sit him down and ask him, 'What the hell is wrong with you?' The movie Khamosh came to mind, which was a terrible copy of a brilliantly thought of English movie, Identity. And no one can forget the ridiculous conversion of Will Smith starrer Hitch, into 'Partner'. And those were just a few.

However irritating it was, we had all come to accept the habits of our industry. Some even thought of it as a charm (about as charming as a pimple). And then to see this trailer...you can't blame me for being dramatic. However, it was soon reported in papers that this Sandler starrer was a remake of a Broadway show. And just like that all was right in the world again.

Don't get me wrong. A lot of work done in our industry is very good, and it could be possible for others to want to do the same. But lets be honest...the day movie makers looked at Mr. Dhawan for good cinema...will be a dark day indeed. :)

Absolutely, Mr. Singh :)

2011-03-02T13:50:00.000-08:00

The other day was spent with a good friend in a book store. I will be shameless in admitting that we have a favourable pastime of sitting there and reading books, even though it is in fact, not a library. But in our defence, they do make it very easy to do so, what with the coffee shop they have in it.

My book of choice was a recent one by Khushwant Singh. It was mostly his views on different occurrences in his life. In all that he wrote, he was upfront and brutally honest, and no matter how supposedly controversial his views on some topics were, I couldn’t help but agree.

He talked about his career in writing, mentioning the qualities it takes for a person to survive in the business with integrity. He also mentioned how he gathered numerous threats for the views he professed, and how that never stopped him. He talked of the people he had met in his lifetime, the ones he came to respect and the ones whose views he didn’t relate to. He spoke of his love for women, scotch and Urdu literature (not necessarily in that order :)) It was all, truly stimulating to read.

Out of his many topics of discussion, one was death. What I really liked about his views on the subject was that he didn’t for once try to explain his interpretation of it. He said that being the age he was, with his peers and many of his comrades already out of the picture; it is inevitable that he would think of it. But when his time came, he wouldn’t want anyone to mourn, because that was something completely unnecessary. A poem he referred to was,

Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea…

Twilight and evening bell
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness and farewell
When I embark…

Mr Singh seems to have gathered a lot of public attention in his career, mostly for how uncensored and unapologetic his views have been. I can imagine him actually enjoying his defiance to popular belief. And even though I may not be aware of all the controversies he caused (I plan to do a lot of researching), I have come to respect him immensely.

Can't Stop Dancing

2011-02-05T01:15:00.000-08:00

After a long hibernation, I looked at the prompt on 'Writing.com'. It was
Write a story or poem about someone dealing with something that he or she cannot control
Just for a change, I thought I'd give a poem a shot. Now I am no Emily Dickinson, but I did have fun :). Here it is:

I wake up in the morning light
Contemplate my busy day ahead,
And then to my utmost delight
I dance my way right outta bed

I get ready for office in a rush
Take a bite of toast and a coffee swig
And even though I may be running out
I always have time to do a little jig

All day I sit at my desk and work
Never getting a chance to leave my seat
But there’s always a song stuck in my head
And the music makes me tap my feet

It’s something I just can’t control
Believe me; I would if I had a chance
It doesn’t matter if I’m happy or sad
Or grumpy or sleepy, I must dance

It’s not a particular form that I pursue
Just a random movement to a certain rhythm
People may stop and stare, or call me a freak
But I just do a little boogie and happily ignore 'em :D

Never Again!

2010-11-22T03:58:00.000-08:00

Since I was old enough to understand, my mother would tell me not to pick up random things. And since I was old enough, I have been picking them up. Not that I am a kleptomaniac or anything, I do keep these things back. I just like to lift them, examine them intently and put them back as they were. 'You'll break something!' my mom would shout, everytime we entered a shop and I wandered away. It was her instinct to wrongly predict the worst that could happen in any situation. She, however, considered it a positive quality.

I too considered my habit of lifting things and trying them out as a positive. That was before my visit to Miss Jane's. Miss Jane's was a vintage shop, a few blocks from where I stayed. People who cleared their closets after decades, or others trying to get rid of memories of people past, would give in things, for a minimal compensation.

I enjoyed going to Miss Jane's. The products in the shop were always eclectic and most definitely unique. I had probably lifted and examined three- fourths of the shop, the remaining being items out of my reach or too big to lift. That particular day was found with new clothes in the shop, which I promptly ran to. While looking through the various dresses, all of which I wanted to buy, knowing I wouldn't wear a single one of them; I came across a beautiful hat. It was purple, with green embroidery along the sides.

As I put it on and looked in the mirror, I noticed a purple tinge on my skin. I took it off and examined it in the mirror, but it seemed to have gone back to normal. Again as I put the hat on, my skin turned purple, and this time, the colour was accompanied by thin lines, running like veins along my body! I quickly removed the hat and looked in the mirror to find myself completely normal. As I examined the hat, along the lining was a tag which said, 'Make me arty.'

As I walked out of the little shop, I thought, ' Mom was right.' It is safe to say I will never touch something I don't plan on purchasing, ever again.

Whale Explosion (A Blubber Blunder) !

2010-11-13T01:41:00.000-08:00

The Internet serves many functions, which we are all aware of. So I will not sit down and list them, when I'm actually supposed to be working (granted, I shouldn't be blogging either). But the biggest purpose it serves me, is getting me out of a frump on an otherwise lousy day!

So, as I surfed through my saviour on a usual, dull morning, I found what is called 'The Whale Explosion' and as the name suggests, it was disgusting.

Just to lay the ground work, as many as 200 whales get 'beached' in a year. This means that they come too close to land, and eventually get swept on to it. Most of them die of dehydration, or due to ill health. Its a natural phenomenon, and cannot be blamed on anything in specific.

On 12Th November, 1970, just as such, a sperm whale died on one of the beaches of Florence in Oregon, USA. The officials in charge of cleaning up could not figure out what to do with its carcass. So, they came up with a brilliant plan. "Lets blow it up", they shouted (thinking that the body would just evaporate into the sky along with the blast particles) I really wonder how not one of them thought about how their master plan might have flaws. But they didn't think and ran to get whatever explosives they could get their hands on. And eventually, they blew it up!

As is obvious, they created an even bigger mess to clear, with pieces of blubber flying almost 250 ms! A few pieces even fell on cars and damaged them. To this blunder, the officials then announced, 'Well, at least in the future, when faced with such tasks, even if we do not know what to do; we will definitely know what NOT to do."

Here's a video of the fireworks (or blubber works) that was caught by a very enthusiastic news reporter.

I think it is now very safe to say that the world is made of ALL sorts of people. :D

Witchy Love

2010-11-09T08:44:00.000-08:00

A short piece on a topic given by Writing.com, which was 'A young witch falls in love'

The water in the cauldron had begun to boil. It was the right time to put in the octopus legs and dried lizard tails (with a hint of crushed spiders, just for flavour) to make the soup, according to the recipe. But it kept boiling and evaporating rapidly. In the next room, Sheila sat at her desk day dreaming. She was in charge of dinner tonight, but she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to hear the black cat meowing frantically in the kitchen.

Sheila had always been different. From the time she was able to walk, and was promptly handed her wand, she knew she wasn't like the others. Sure she could caste spells all on her own, and just recently she had received her licence for riding a broomstick. But any witch could do that. She had a quality which put her aside, and made her stick out like a sore thumb in a sea of black, pointy hats. And that was her ability to love unconditionally.

Her parents noticed it from the time she was little. The way she looked after all the white mice she was given (instead of using them for practicing her spells) had deeply concerned them. And when they heard from her school that she refused to turn a fellow student into a toad for spilling her juice, they worried even more. But she had managed, and had learnt all the tasks she needed to, very well indeed.

Now that she was all grown up, they felt it was time for them to find a suitable wizard for her, which they mentioned to her in passing the previous day. And this was the very fact that made her so sad and lost that day.

Now I know what you're thinking; a loving witch as such would be thrilled at the prospect of marriage. But she was not, because she had already met her true love and she knew she would never be able to marry him.

He was a delivery boy. She had taken a fall while riding her broomstick, and that too right into his tiny truck. Since it was Halloween time, he had not questioned her elaborate outfit, and had been a complete gentleman in helping her out. He was short, pale and had teeth sticking out of his mouth, just like the white mice she used to take care of! It was love at first sight.

Since then she had followed him on his route everyday, from quite a high distance to be noticed. She watched him in his brown shorts, as he delivered all the various items on his list as efficiently as he could.

She never tried to meet him, because she knew it was of no use, they'd never be together. So she just sat there at her desk and thought about him. And how he'd never know who she was, how much she loved him, and why any girl he liked from that time onwards, would suddenly look like such a toad. ;)

Ek Chatur Car...Karke Shringaar ;)

2010-10-18T10:41:00.000-07:00

I went out with mom the other day. Just as we were dodging the usual traffic, i.e people walking on the road looking anywhere except the front, auto rickshaws which look like they are in search of someone to squash, and riders randomly spitting; there it was! Standing majestically beside a local lemonade seller. Oh and it was fine!

I got a few shots of it on my phone, but nothing can explain how wonderful it was to see the true essence of our films splashed on a car. And to make matters even better, it was an ambassador....a car which brings back numerous fond memories for me.

A few days back, I was reading my horoscope in a random magazine. It said many things which turned out to be true. It said that I would travel. It also said that cash would come into my life, and promptly leave (oh so true!) Then it said, 'For those who look out for love, you find find it in the most unlikely places.'

And so I did...I fell in love with this car :)

Asking the Right Questions

2010-10-06T12:41:00.000-07:00

A short story I wrote for Writing.com. The prompt was, 'The title has to be Asking the Right Questions.'

She came and sat next to me everyday, as I read my morning paper in the garden. I guess she thought me to be a knowledgeable person, considering the fact that my glasses were what they called vintage, and I don’t believe in dying the grey hair that have sprouted on my head. Maybe she thought I was once a woman of substance, who defied the standards kept in our world that men were superior. And now when that age of defiance had passed, I could be consulted on how I reached that point in my youth.
Whatever the reason was, she would be there. Like clock work, the minute I would sit on that cement bench, and lift the daily news, I would glance to my left and she’d be there.
One day as we performed the same ritual of sitting next to each other, she turned to me and asked me, ‘Do you have any regrets?’ As I looked up at her from above my glasses, looking quite like the typical school teacher I’m sure, she explained. ‘It’s just something I have been asking myself, so I thought I’d ask you as well.’
I took just a few seconds to answer this. And the reason was that I had asked myself this question many times. I said, ‘Honey, I will always have one regret in life. And unfortunately, I will never know what it is.’
As she looked extremely confused, I went on. ‘There will always be a person I met in my life, whom I loved and didn’t express it to. There will always be a place I always wanted to visit and couldn’t go. There will always be something I did, which I felt bad about later on. But all these I don’t regret, because all those were my decisions, and I accept them. But this feeling of regret will still be a part of me.’
‘So, how will you find out what it is? ‘She asked, eager to give this discussion a concrete ending, like a school girl watching a teen flick, waiting for the protagonist and his love interest to have that final climatic kiss.
‘The only time I will realize what I regret in my life, is when I am about to die, and my life flashes in front of me. And that’s what scares me most about death.’
I smiled and went back to reading the latest news. I could see her sitting and staring into space from the corner of my eye.
She never asked me any questions after that. But she still came and sat next to me every day. I guess it’s true what they say- some habits are hard to change.

Old Souls, Old Doors...

2010-09-26T01:25:00.000-07:00

The other day, I went to the city for printing. After sitting in an auto for what seemed like a whole day, and running from one place to the other holding three standees and my bag (which contains every thing a human brain can think of), I finally got a break for about half an hour before I got the material back. So I decided to explore the area, clicking random pictures of old doors.

Old doors fascinate me to no end. The way they are structured, the colour, the chipped paint, the broken pieces of wood, the whole sight is just so interesting. Plus, if you stand and stare at one for a while (make sure you don't end up scaring the people who live behind it), it seems like it has a story to tell; which is what I love most about it.

Here are a few of the many, many shots I took.

Let it be noted that a) I am not a photographer, even an amateur one...b) My camera is the most basic digital kind you can find.

(click image for a view of all the old beauties)

The first shot. And so the obsession began!

Notice the colour combinations. I'm sure this would be one of the only situations they would look good :)

My favourite door in the bunch.

All in all, it was a lot of fun. :)

As someone once said....

2010-09-17T11:08:00.000-07:00

There seems to be an overflow of spiritual thoughts these days. Everywhere we go, we run in to them. From social networking sites, to bill boards, even visiting cards. Every one has a saying they heard or read somewhere, which made complete sense to them in a indirect way and they are eager to share it with the rest of us. Now, I can understand how quotations like these can make a person really think and understand spheres of life they would probably have overlooked. One glances upon a long, yet meaningful saying and thinks, 'Hmm...that's true...' But at the end of the day (or rather, the end of the sentence),it really doesn't make much of a difference.

Of course, I am no one to judge, and I completely respect any one's right to try and live a better life by being as spiritual as they can be. And I do admit that even I enjoy reading such things some times. But one must wonder...how long do such inspirational quotes stay with us? An few minutes mostly. And in other cases, a few hours or even a day. After that, we continue on the way we were, with said quote hidden somewhere in our sub-conscious mind. And that is till we read the next one.

This topic in my head, makes me hold on to it as though it were a chain. Next, it gets me thinking of the people who say things, which go on to flood the written world. To be completely realistic (it helps to deviate from your regular loony self sometimes), I would say that these quotes are thought of by people for three reasons.
The first (and probably the rarest)is when the person truly believes in the topic of his preaching.
The second is when a person wants to release some feel-good thoughts into the world(which is a good thing of course).
The third (and probably the most common one) is when a person wants to be remembered.
We live in a time where, even if we forget which movie or show we were watching, we still remember the dialogues in it. So it makes sense for people to say things, just so that they can be remembered through them.

To think in such terms (i.e to doubt the positive things we see) would be to acknowledge how truly twisted the world is. But then, to be more like my usual self, maybe its not. Maybe its just me. :)

The Wait

2010-08-30T12:27:00.000-07:00

Write a story about keeping someone waiting a terribly long time for an appointment.

Everyday I sit and wait. Sit patiently on my old withered chair which even though has lost all its charm, is still my favourite. I sit and stare at the tree across the road, because thats the last place I saw him.

It was late that night, when he came to drop me home in his cherry colored, vintage car. He called it ‘vintage’ in an attempt to stop the other person from calling it what it actually was; rusty and broken-down.

He told me he’d call me the next day, and we’d meet. Maybe we’d go for a movie; there was a good one playing at the local theatre in town. I smiled and said, of course. I could feel the cool breeze around me, brushing my curls off my face. I hoped it didn’t rain right then. After all, I had spent the whole of the previous night preparing for just how I’d look when he left me home.

It was magical that night. Because all that I wanted to hear was said in that look of his, in his smile and in mine. The next day I waited near my phone, jumping at the slightest sound that came from that direction. But it didn’t ring. It grew dark, and I waited on my favourite chair, which then looked brand new and well kept. I waited for him, but he didn’t come.

I heard that same day that a young man had been stopped on the road by a gang of hoodlums. He had been stripped of his belonging, and beaten to death. He was driving an old, red car. I knew it was him.

Since then, I sit on my chair, and stare at the tree. Some part of me thinks maybe my eyes will act as a time machine, and I will be magically transported back to that moment when he smiled at me and I smiled back. Just maybe.

Then again, maybe its too early in our human existence for that to happen. Till it does, he makes me wait, and so I do. Just so that one day, I can feel the cool breeze against my curls. And when that time comes, I hope it rains.

Morning Moosic

2010-08-15T22:03:00.000-07:00

A short piece I wrote, on the topic 'Write about someone who talks to his/her plants.'

Every morning I am woken by the sound of someone singing. That may seem like a very pleasant way to be woken from your slumber, but believe me, its not. This is because what that woman does barely comes on the line that divides singing, and screeching. She lives in the apartment below me, and thanks to the wonders of modern construction, which gives great emphasis to looks, but completely takes common sense out of the equation; her balcony comes right under my bedroom window. Every morning, she wakes up, gets a small bucket of water and comes out to water her plants. I curse the gentleman or lady who told her it is good to talk to one’s plants, as it makes them grow stronger.

And talk she does! She starts by asking her rose bush how it is doing today. The fact that is doesn’t reply gives her no hint to stop with the questions, as she merrily continues. She proceeds to ask her money plant if it will hear a song. Unfortunately for me, it doesn’t reply. So she thinks for a second, and clears her throat. And then, from god-knows where in her body, a sound emerges which few would call pleasant. This sound continues for a good 5 minutes, and then she is done.

One day, I decided to confront this self proclaimed nightingale. I jumped out of bed when the sound emerged from below my window, and stormed down the stairs, wearing on my face the angriest of looks. Now I know my doing something like that is very 'un-gentlemanly'. But at that time of the day, we tend to forget all these rules of society.

As I reached her door, I could feel the anger grow inside of me. I rang her bell twice, just to show how extremely upset I was. In less than a minute, the door opened. I was just about to begin my speech on the decency of neighbours, when I saw her.

She was probably the most beautiful woman I have seen, and I am not exaggerating. She looked at me and smiled, and said she recognised me from the lift. I just kept smiling back. Just as I regained my thoughts, I quickly mentioned how I had heard her singing. ‘Oh my, that’s embarrassing for me. I’m sorry. It’s just that I like beginning my day on a positive note, and singing to my plants helps a lot.’ And saying this, she giggled and tilted her head, making her soft, sweet curls brush up against her shoulder.

‘I hope it didn’t disturb you,’ she said.

And to that, all I could say was, ‘No, of course not. Even I like beginning my morning on a positive note. And listening to you sing helps a lot. A good morning to you!’

Write away....

2010-08-13T02:29:00.000-07:00

I entered a competition on a website called Writers.com. Its called Writer's Cramp, and the idea is to give all of us a chance to break out of the eternally elusive blocks in our head, and come up with something. Each day, at noon, a tiny brief is given, and we are given some time to come up with an article (which is supposed to be short). The next day, the entries are evaluated, and a winner is chosen. There is no reward, just a title, as an added incentive.

The topic was: Finding time to do something you enjoy.

What started out as a work of fiction, very soon became a confusing mixture of real and not-so-real. Here it is:

When I was 5, my parents took me for a movie. It was a Bollywood oldie, which was playing at our local cinema house, and my folks thought it would be a good thing for me to start my life as a ‘film buff’ watching an old one (a very modified version of the saying- knowing where your roots are, I suppose). At the time multiplexes were not as popular (most didn’t even exist). Cinema halls were dirty, the food at the stalls was old and decomposed and the seats had more holes than cartoon cheese. All that kept in mind that was probably my best experience watching a movie ever.

I still don’t know what it was. The big screen with the giant people, the exaggerated story of the man and woman in love, or the sound of people enjoying themselves. The whole thing made me fall in love with the art.

Since then, I have seen numerous movies. And it’s safe to say that it is something I really enjoy doing.

A very common dialogue for most cynics is that our life is not a movie. We aren’t always the centre of the plot; we don’t always have funny interesting experiences and definitely the most popular being ‘We don’t always have a happy ending.’ But I disagree with these people (mostly because I like disagreeing, but also because I believe so).

In my head, I am living in a movie, about me. I am the lead, the plot and the happy ending. In fact, it is with this parallel universe in my head that I can carry on with boring routines and dull situations. And now that I give it some more thought, I realize that the thing I enjoy doing, is just that- living in my own sweet and twisted world, and I find all the time for it. It is probably why I enjoy movies so darn much. It reminds me of a different sphere of life- that of make believe.

I am sure my day-and-night dreaming doesn’t make me too different from the rest; because I am sure it is something each and every one of us participates in, just at varying levels. We just don’t realize it, and how it is something we all enjoy doing.

New Beginnings (Well...Sort of)

2010-07-15T04:35:00.001-07:00

I would like to start by conveying my sincere apologies to all my followers. To all those people, who would wake up every morning and jump to the Internet to see if their favorite blogger had updated them about her most recent and random thoughts ( I cannot start to explain how optimistic I am). The reason for my rude absence from the blogging world was that I was starting a new phase in my life. That of a working woman. The only thing is that, though it is a new phase, it is also at the same place I have lived in for 4 years. So one might say, it is a new beginning at an old place.

I must admit it was quite tough at first. The worst part was that a lot of my close friends have left. Many times in the past, I have wondered what that would feel like, and now it has been confirmed that it is a terrible feeling ( I can see the smirks on their faces already). Channeling my dramatic side, I would say that it takes just a tiny prick to burst the extremely comfy bubble that surrounds us, my friends. But then I realize how extremely lame being that dramatic can sound, so I take it back. It isn't that bad. :)

But I guess that's the first step. Realization.

Routine has finally set in. On some days one can even say it has become a little mundane (yes, already). However, I have slowly thought of ways (little things) to make it more interesting. I am also filled with the feeling that I should let things run their course, instead of obsessing about what will happen. So I am doing just that.

I will definitely keep all of you posted about this modified life of mine.

Hope you all have a lovely day, week, month and year. :)

Everyone Smiles for the Camera

2010-06-25T11:00:00.000-07:00

The other day was spent scanning old photographs, with my brother. A task which sounds quite dull, was actually a lot of fun. This was because it gave us a chance to look at ourselves when we were teeny little people, something we both hadn't seen in a very long time.
One of the albums was from my first birthday party. I completely agree with everyone who says that a child's first birthday is a chance/excuse for the adults to meet and celebrate(the child has no idea whats happening) And celebrate they did! Well...everyone except my mum, who had to carry me around all evening, and I was one fat little thing!
While going through the pictures, I noticed how happy everyone looked. People whom we had lost touch with, and now met occasionally in formal situations, were sitting and chatting like good chums. Some we saw had left us a long time back, and some have left us quite recently. I thought about how it was such a simple time, and seemed filled with joy. Being the sorts who thinks about something a lot, I kept thinking about it..
I wondered, how happy everyone actually was? I mean, they would obviously be, celebrating the first anniversary of the birth of an extremely cute baby ;)...but apart from that, there must have been a million things to worry about (like handling the extremely cute baby, and her elder sister?)
Resources were not very abundant, issues always ensued with people, simple times meant simple ways of doing things (which is synonymous to difficult sometimes)...
I'm sure those times wouldn't be completely 'filled with joy' as I thought earlier. Yet, at the end of the day, when the lens is pointed at us, no matter what is going on in our lives, and in our head; everyone smiles for the camera...right?

The 'Seinfeld' Theory

2010-06-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

Being at home and having a lack of anything productive to do, I find myself watching a lot of Seinfeld episodes. The USP of the show is that its a show about nothing. However, one can find all sorts of things happening in it. Maybe that's what I like most about it, the fact that the word 'nothing' is so loaded. Its like saying you're blank when you have a lot of random thoughts squirming about in your head, so many that you can't concentrate on one.

Also, watching all the numerous episodes made me think a little like Jerry Seinfeld. Like...
Whats the deal with people using temperature to describe someone? 'He's a very warm person.'....'She can be very cold'....'You're quite cool'...etc etc....I don't hear anyone saying 'Its a very mean day today'...or...'Wait a while. The food has to calm down.' (Of course what I think isn't funny, I'm no comedian!)

I also enjoy how the show makes fun of anything bad that happens to a person. May it be some one's car being stolen, to someone else dying; there is nothing on the show which cannot be manipulated to lend us a few laughs.

Well, I realize I have been ranting about how great the show is, so I will stop. But I do recommend it for people who have 'nothing' to do.

I'm back

2010-06-20T10:19:00.000-07:00

It has been a really long time, and I apologize to all that follow me (which has gone up...hallelujah!) For a long time, I have felt completely blank on the writing front. However, the other day, I was welcomed to my gmail account with a mail promoting god-knows-what. I did'nt read the whole mail, just the first line. However, this line helped pull me out of the fuzziness. It read, 'Hi Priya! Need inspiration?' YES! Thats exactly what I need, is what I shouted out in my head.

I did'nt really find true inspiration, but the line did get me thinking. Being random is never easy folks, and then after that, gathering your thoughts and coming up with something concrete can be ever tougher than the former task!

So, this post is to inform all....that I am back. And thanks to the lovely people who send us unnecessary emails, I will be writing down my random thoughts very soon!

Happy B'day Shebu

2010-05-06T02:08:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday sweetheart... I love you. <3

The Other Kind

2010-04-26T13:21:00.000-07:00

According to Stephen Hawking, aliens are out there - but instead of seeking them out, humanity should avoid any contact with them. Well, yeah, obviously!
In a recent documentary, the 68 year old scientist says that it is very possible that there exists intelligent life out there, much like us, or rather, more developed. He also warned human kind that this life may just drop in on our planet to raid us of our resources, much like a pit stop for a car, only to move on.
Wow, now that's interesting. I can just imagine all the sci-fi movie addicts jumping with joy, shouting 'Told you so!' to whoever doubted their belief in aliens.
The makers of movies like 'Independence Day' and 'Mars Attacks'(well, maybe not those guys) staring dumbfounded at this news, thinking 'Holy Shit! We got it right..?'
ET fanatics (or their counterparts in India, i.e Jaadoo fanatics) hoping and praying that these aliens are as cute and friendly as in the classic movie.
And maybe all those people have reason to get that dramatic. Because, if their belief in something so extremely unbelievable is reinforced, it gives them hope for all the other things they've been told are nonsensical.
As for the rest of us, who never believed in aliens, and take the idea in a more negative sense, we can keep telling ourselves its not true until its proven (even though we all know that proof isn't always needed for something to be true).
In the context of coming in contact with our extra-terrestrial neighbors, a very interesting thing Stephen Hawking said was, "We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn't want to meet."

Quirks

2010-04-20T07:46:00.000-07:00

I wonder if everyone in this world is just pretending to be normal, trying to fit in, secretly masking an extremely surreal personality. And all the people we call insane, are actually just being themselves.
Such were the kind of thoughts I was getting sitting at the printers for an hour, waiting for them to grossly overcharge me for my magazine. I guess that's what forking over the last of your cash does to you. It brings out your true personality.
But it is something to think about. If we all were to analyze ourselves, we would all find traits we keep to ourselves, that may seem completely loony to others.
I did just that. Noted down things about myself, quirks I possess (because I had a lot of time to kill while they re-did the printing they did wrong!)that make me...well...ME.
1. I talk to animals like others talk to little babies. However, I can never talk to human babies in the same way.
2. I sometimes write random thoughts on my hand, so I can look at it whenever I want. Right now, I have 'faith' written on my wrist.
3. I truly believe in the strength of the mind. It has the power to change circumstances. I also believe in sending people positive energy through thoughts, which is what I do sometimes. So, if you feel a sudden feeling of calmness, or a problem of yours gets solved, it could possibly be me. ;)
4. I have various wild theories about a whole lot of things, all in my head. So many that I could write a whole book! However, I would probably be the only happy owner of a copy of that book, so I won't be writing it any time soon.
5. Sometimes, I talk to God in my head. He never answers, so its pretty much a one-sided conversation.
These are just a few I thought of while I sat at the overpriced printers. I'm sure there are many more, which would make my friend say '....you're weird....' That I am, and proudly so.

Completion

2010-04-07T12:23:00.001-07:00

I finally submitted the story I was writing for a short story competition. I had to complete a written piece within the word limit, keeping certain criteria in mind (meaning I had to try really hard not to be random!)

Writing this story reminded me of all the stories I had started writing in the past, and never completed.

Like the one about mammoths( I really don't know what I was thinking when I started with that story). After writing the first chapter, I realized two things. First, I know nothing about mammoths. And second, I have no story to give them!

Another was a story about a man who finds a mysterious red stone, and when he holds it, he goes to another galaxy. The problem was, I couldn't think of what he did there!

The third and most tragic story I started was of a woman who has to suffer through a lot, but eventually makes it in the world. It was a tragedy because I concentrated so much on her suffering, that I ended up making her the most miserable person in the world. By the time I was done torturing her, I didn't have the energy to bring her out of it :)

So, you can understand why I was a little hesitant in entering a short story writing competition. My past record of trying to write one doesn't paint a picture of a spring day for me. It paints one of a summer drought.

But I finished. And I'm happy. Very soon, I'll put it up for all of you to read :)

Ideal Languages...Really?

2010-03-22T06:54:00.000-07:00

Today I was reading a book called Language, Its Structure and Use by Edward Finegan. In it, the author talked about how through the ages, people have been on a quest for the perfect language. Explaining what exactly that is, he said the perfect language can be of two kinds (as has been decided by linguistic scholars).
First would be one, in which whatever is said is direct and precise. Every phrase or sentence has a particular meaning, and cannot be altered. So this language would be so vast, that it would encompass all the millions (or zillions) of thoughts, expressions, content, and ideas of the world.
Second would be one in which all that can be said is boiled down to one word. He used the word uh as an example. So, regardless of your state of mind, and the emotion you want to convey, or for that matter, anything you want to say, the word uh would be used.
So, both types of ideal languages are complete opposites of each other, and if given a thought, both languages are far from perfect!
The first one is so complex, that it would probably take a person a week to form one complete sentence. It would reach a point where people would rather just keep shut, than go through the trouble of saying 'how are you?' ( if I think about that situation with certain people, it seems quite ideal actually ;) )
The second one is so simplified, that one would lose all interest in language altogether, out of boredom. Every question would sound the same, and all questions would have the same answer. There would be no way to express emotions through words!
Now that I think about it some more, I realize that both concepts have one thing in common. They both result in getting people to stop talking!
So I would concur that an ideal language is one which makes talking, or communicating through words completely obsolete!
Can everyone say IRONY!

Quest for an Interest

2010-03-20T05:47:00.000-07:00

I have realized after a lot of thought (I lie, my friend hounded me into realizing) that I have no special interest. For example, my friend is really interested in make up. So much so, that she has decided to make a career out of it. Another friend has recently taken up photography as an interest, and even though he hasn't made it a career choice yet, it gives him one more thing to do in the future.
Here I sit on my bed and rack my brain to come up with something. And I sit quite blank.
There was a time I was really interested in art movements. And that made me want to start painting. But it never happened.
Then, I thought of learning yoga, as I always enjoyed it. I did learn it to some extent. Then I stopped.
I decided to join an NGO for animals, and learn to deal with situations relating to how to help them. But I didn't.
I tried to dance, but unfortunately, my body doesn't seem to be in sync with my mind. So that's out.
I have done a whole lot of things in the process of finding something to like. So in a way, I have a lot to put in my list of 'I have tried...' But unfortunately for me, nothing has stuck on.
Maybe my interest should be finding a hobby.

I wonder...

2010-03-15T23:49:00.000-07:00

Have you wondered what exactly made your life a success? What is it that would make you truly happy? Recent events have made me wonder.
If you were to actually think about it, you will find yourself completely confused...but if you figure it out, believe me, nothing will give you as much satisfaction.
Give it a shot...or actually a thought :)

Memories....

2010-03-11T04:22:00.000-08:00

Its weird how we forget seemingly important things of the past, like birthdays, or meeting someone, and remember parts of days, which seem completely arbitrary. While reading someone's blog, I came across a post ' My earliest memory'. This got me thinking, and after wondering for a while I could remember mine.
Now even though I'm not very sure about if the memory is my earliest, I do know I was very young at the time.
My cousin brother, who is 3 years older than I, would come over to my place, to spend the night. We would then wake up early in the morning, and take out bikes out around the neighborhood. We would first go to the nearby grocery shop, and buy as much bread and biscuits we could afford from the cash in our money-box. Then we would go around feeding all the stray dogs we could find! After doing that, we would play hide and seek, or have a race, or play some other game, to celebrate the success of our tasks.
Its comforting to know I was capable of finding joy in such things, because that means I might still be capable of it. Growing up and interacting with the world has made me forget the child I used to be, as has happened with most of us.
A friend of mine once said, 'The worst thing a person can do is grow up.' I don't know the originality of that sentence, sounds like something Hans Christian Anderson would say, but it made a lot of sense.
Here's hoping we can all be children once again.

Insanity, you are me.....

2010-03-03T11:53:00.000-08:00

In recent days, I find myself going slowly but surely insane. Since many people out there do not know what that feels like, I felt it my duty to enlighten them. Hence the post.

It all starts with something, seemingly harmless, yet potentially devastating. And that little bomb in the shape of an apple, is a thought. A thought about anything at all, followed by another thought, and leading to a series of thoughts, which in the end have nothing to do with the first one.

The next dangerous thing is imagination. Its like a gun pointed to the head, waiting to get its trigger pulled. And then....kaboom! All the things you can imagine, you do, and this state combined with the fact that you think way too much, takes you closer to being mentally unstable.

That is where I have reached now. Will keep you updated about what the next stage will be. :)

Animal Instinct

2010-01-08T01:42:00.000-08:00

Man is a social animal. Great emphasis on the word 'animal'. Many of us fail to remember at most times that humans, apart from their highly developed Encephalon (i.e brain) and tendency to wear foreign material on our body, are in fact a species of mammals. So, we cannot blame those of us who choose to live like their less developed buddies in the world.
Such was my thought as I traveled back home after dinner. Next to me on the road I saw a group of men, riding in a car, screaming at the top of their lungs. To me they resembled a group of monkeys, chattering and enjoying picking insects out of each others hide. Disgusted at first by the comparison, I soon realized that these people had actually discovered a primitive way to live their lives. And if the lives of apes intrigued them so much, who are we to tell them they are wrong?
I have also realized, after reading what I have written above, that my thoughts have strayed from being random, and are entering a whole new dimension, which seems to be bordering on low-level insanity!

'Tis the Season to be Brand-y

2009-12-30T00:45:00.000-08:00

The other day, my good friend and I decided to go out for a Christmas dinner. To further feel the Christmas spirit, we decided to enter a few shops, if not to purchase anything, then to look at their decorations, or criticize their products (we find a certain pleasure in finding faults in items we can’t afford). As we browsed a certain shop, in which items looked particularly pricey, we noticed that they were also particularly fake!

It makes me wonder. Are people that conscious of brands that they would go to the extent of buying fake merchandise just to fit in, or in other cases, to stand out? At the risk of sounding like I’m anti-society (which I am actually starting to become), I think I answer my own question, when I look around.

I fail to understand the glitz behind these brands. Sure they look good. And after various discussions with friends who understand , I am also told that it gives a person pleasure to own something exclusive. But to spend that much money, money I could use to feed myself for the whole year, certainly does not sound appealing to me.

My friend tells me there are two types of people- those who can afford high-class brands, and those who can’t, and go in for the knock-offs. This saddens me even more, to think that we can define people in only two categories. In my head, I could define them in so many different categories, which reinforced my belief that individuality was given some importance in the world. But I am slowly starting to think that all of that is in my head.

Sure, there are people out there who don’t care. To an extent, even I don't. But in this day and age, where big brands are the carnivores, and tiny little shops are the deer, grazing peacefully, unaware of their impending attack…we the people who don’t care seem to be a dying breed.

Thought of the Day

2009-11-30T02:40:00.000-08:00

Its weird how some thing you spot momentarily can make you think about so much. Like what happened to me today. As I walked in my colony, I spotted this wine bottle, sitting on the windowsill of a house. It looked exactly like what it was...dirty...empty...lone...
Maybe its just a quality of human beings, thinking about things that mean absolutely nothing to what we see. Or maybe it's me. But when I saw it, just sitting there, it made me think of a saying I'd heard a long time back :
'When so many are lonely and seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.'

An interesting thing to think about, if you gave it a thought :)...

Costume, anyone?

2009-11-24T12:29:00.000-08:00

Jerry Seinfeld once poked fun at the villains in Batman, saying that their complicated disguise and surreal personalities made them the easiest to spot in a city, something criminals these days try their best to avoid. Its true, the amount of time they'd take to wear their complicated costumes could very easily be spent fool-proofing their schemes of mischief.
One might argue that the idea of creating a look which became an identity only happened in comics and movies...never real life. But I beg to differ.
When one looks at history, one finds very similar tendencies. For example,
Hitler never decided to change his look, by trying out a goatee or a french beard. He truly believed the awkward little moustache worked for him. It didn't make him look very tough, but it became his identity.
Abraham Lincoln wore a long top hat, which he popularized. People say he kept important documents in it, so it served a purpose apart from making him look crazy tall!
Marlyn Monroe was known for being blonde. She was also known for her affairs, but that's a different issue. Whatever those were, she was still awesome.
Even our very own Mahatma Gandhi chose to make an image for himself. Sure he had reasons behind it. But I'm sure after a while, he also stuck to the look because people started associating him with it. And they must have been extremely comfortable on hot, summer days, walking for peace.
Even today many figures who have gained popularity and importance try to stick to a certain look and appearance. Maybe not as elaborate and over-the-top as comic book characters, but sometimes, quite close....

Life on a Big Screen

2009-11-19T08:35:00.000-08:00

How many of us have NOT pretended like we were a part of a movie, at some time or the other. If you are one of them, you are either boring or unimaginative :) ...
I have seen so many movies now, that I've stated merging the two. Who says life imitates art...it imitates the big screen!
Every time I listen to a song, I imagine it as a background score to some event in my life. Especially if I'm low, then I have a whole list of songs to listen to! And I'm certain I'm not the only one.
We may pass it off as childish or immature, but most of us have thought of ourselves in at least one exaggerated, out-of-this-world, movie scene. Sometimes we may even forget that its our imagination, and have to shake ourselves out of it.
We narrate what we're thinking, what we feel and what we've learnt to ourselves. It seems to put our lives in retrospect, in a way. We imagine some things in our life as reaching an obvious conclusion in the future, even though that might never happen. But we still hope.
I personally, think of my life as a movie all the time. The movie might be extremely dull at times, and I might be the only one sitting in the hall, watching it with a tub of popcorn, waiting for an interval, but I enjoy it. It'd be great if I could watch trailers of other people's lives too.. :D

Darr ke aage entertainment bhi hai....

2009-10-23T01:13:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine is insanely scared of dogs. Every time I see her run and hide behind me to suddenly become invisible to a stray dog, I wonder what she perceives of the dog in her head. I wonder if in her head, this innocent little dog wagging his tail at us has turned into the Tasmanian Devil. I personally am uncomfortable at heights. I wouldn't call it a fear or phobia, but I try my best to avoid looking down a steep mountain (as I am sure a lot of us do for one simple reason: common sense). But when I do look down (I don't believe in common sense :)) I feel like I'm about to fall.
Fear is maybe the most interesting emotion. Its not as over-rated as joy and misery (because those two get way too much importance)
Its used most lucratively in the entertainment industry. A serial showing a group of people laughing at a clown gains no viewers. But if that clown has a hidden butcher knife, which he uses to kill those people one by one, when they least expect it, audiences are glued to their couches.
That's the reason why movie-makers have shown a scary form of everything. Think of a cute, little boy...think of the ghost child in Grudge. Think of man's best friend...think of Kujo.
People write inspirational quotes on how we should all conquer our fears, but the truth is, without fear, our lives would be extremely dull. So would our movies.

Is this the end.....of Legends?

2009-10-15T02:57:00.001-07:00

When the king of pop Michael Jackson died, people in the world pondered over whether this was the end of the Legends. The people who not only get recognition in their time, but are also remembered by future generations of the world for their contributions and distinctive style. People like Elvis Priestley, Marilyn Monroe....
I understand why those people worry. In this day and age, its like every one's out to get FAME. Not so much appreciation and respect for their talent, FAME. And more often than not, they seem to get it. A few examples:
1. A former bar dancer turned 'item' girl has become the most talked about 'celebrity', and after publicly abusing almost everyone in the public eye, and taking part in endless reality shows, she complains about how the media is after her, and how people should 'take her seriously'.
2. Actors are now famous more for their dressing sense and public appearances than their contribution to the art. So the secret to making it these days- a Gucci bag in one hand, an influential person in the other...
3. Even a so-called Swami (or yoga-nut), thinks he should make his opinions heard on topics that have no relation to anything he does. And even then, makes a fool of himself..(Homosexuality is not a disease...greed for money is)
And those are just a few of the many examples that would reinforce the fact, that in our time, there is no such person who will go on to be a Legend. So I join those people who worry.

Fashion Clones

2009-10-12T05:15:00.000-07:00

I have never been one to keep up with fashion. in fact, till a while back, fashion and i were strangers to each other. college and friends (one friend particularly) helped get me in shape a bit, but i still enjoy wearing the faded, slightly ripped t shirt i had when i was in school.
No matter how many faux pas i have made, the thing i like about fashion is that it gives people the chance to explore the different facets of their personality and show them to the world. However, after going out today, i don't think people agree with me.

As i walk through the market of my colony, i see three girls not older than 15 years of age, wearing clothes i would consider wearing to a club. they seem confident, happy even. so i wonder if I'm being too 'old fashioned'. maybe, these girls have found a way to express their personality, which is pretty much harmless. more power to them!

So wrong...as i walk along, i see two more dressed almost exactly the same. same age, same dressing sense....same personality?

The more i look around, the more of them i see. Then it hits me. Gone are the days where we liked the fact that we were different from the rest ( or maybe that was just me). People have decided to dress exactly the same!

For all those deciding to join the cult, here's the dress code I have been able to figure out:
Guys: Extremely baggy jeans worn right where the butt ends, loose t shirt (preferably polo), more gel on the head than hair.
Girls: Skinny jeans/Mini skirts, mostly monochromatic tops, shiny poker straight hair with glittery clips, ballet shoes.

Noticing all these f-clones makes me take out my old, faded t shirt and wear it with pride. And confidence that even if the whole world dressed exactly the same, my ignorance to the whole ordeal will end up being my saving grace.

News from around the globe

2009-10-09T09:56:00.000-07:00

When one thinks of technology or innovation, one inevitably thinks of the Japanese. However, I think their quest to come up with new things to put out has made them a little loopy in the head. The reason behind this being their newest product in the market, the man bra MENZUSUKYANTI.
Available in three colours- white, black and pink, these gems have everything- comfort, removable straps, even place for padding....everything a heterosexual man could ever need....for himself! It's quite ridiculous...the one item of clothing that's clearly feminine (note: not female, FEMININE), they go ahead and market as 'men's'.
I feel no guilt in being judgmental. The people who came out with such a product must have expected it to go on to be the butt of many endless jokes. Especially if it has no functionality what-so-ever. That's right, it is purely for the aesthetic pleasure.
But as I think of a whole bunch of jokes in my head, I stop myself from being too mean and writing them all out. One reason being that some of them are inappropriate for a public blog. Another being that it takes all kinds to make this world. All of whom have the right to go out and do whatever they can to be happy. I guess some of them find the idea of a man in a pink polyester brassiere appealing. :)

Definitions

2009-10-08T12:25:00.000-07:00

As is human nature, one tries to define anything he does. One also asks others to define everything. As was I, asked to define , Design.
This might seem like a perfectly simple task for a lot of people out there, but for a serial 'over thinker' like myself, it was terrible. A professor in college tried helping me and my fellow confused mates with this dilemma by keeping a seminar on 'The difference between art and design' in my first year of college. I'm sure he made perfect sense, if we could only understand what he mumbled.
The uncles and aunties back home didn't help either. They made it worse. For them, everything meant Fashion Design. Product Design was Fashion Design. Industrial Design was Fashion Design. And as for a seemingly vague course like mine (Communication Design)...well, that HAD to be Fashion Design!
Nearly 4 years have gone by now, and i have learnt a lot about what design means....to me. But i still search for its true meaning. And i think that's what makes it interesting....not really knowing.

Retro

2009-10-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

Tried a photoshop tutorial to make a retro poster...modified it to include me (or rather have me as a very large element of the design)...I admit im self-obsessed...

2009-10-03T06:36:00.000-07:00

Word of the day: Delite
Origin: A modified, accented version of the slang term of a person who comes from Delhi (Delhi-ite)
Usage: Stranger to me: Are you a Delite?
Me: Umm....uhh...sometimes, I guess (awkward smile)

Lunar Living?

2009-09-25T07:10:00.000-07:00

The whole topic of there being water on the moon has been really hot in the news these days. The other day, another news channel, broadcasting the issue as BREAKING NEWS, mentioned how living on the moon might be closer than was expected. Weird.

I understand how little children looking fondly at the glowing beauty might say how they would love to visit it one day, but aren't we grown up? Why would we want to leave a place which has everything we need, to go inhabit a completely new, barren area.

Another thing that baffles me is how some people supposedly 'own' land on the moon. Financially prosperous people have paid loads to own their very own piece of it. What i don't understand is who sold it to them? And who gave them the right?

Personally, I think we should stick to our very own lovely planet Earth, and focus on how to make it a better place to live in, rather than looking for ways to run away from it.

2009-09-24T11:19:00.000-07:00

Actually, its not ....

Dawn

2009-09-21T15:01:00.000-07:00

The randomness of the title of my blog is cohesive with the randomness in my head. and that's not an exaggeration. just the other day, as i stood outside the lift of my building, i thought of a questions no one has been able to answer confidently till now (maybe because they were too busy making fun of me for asking the question) : what would be worse, a sty in the eye, or a pimple on the nose?
Whatever is the reason behind these completely irrelevant topics in my mind, it gives me a lot to think about, and a lot to write about.
This is the first post i write, to inaugurate my blog. i hope to write many more .