musings.....

It had to be in Abheri.Of course. Thats like a no-contest. No other raaga can do justice to what this song wants to convey. "Yeppadi Paadinaro" - says that one can only gaze at those saints who praised Lord Shiva - overflowing with emotion in Thamizh.

எப்படி பாடினாரோ அடியார் அப்படி பாட நான்

ஆசை கொண்டேன் சிவனே

அப்பரும் சுந்தரரும் ஆளுடை பிள்ளையும்

அருள் மணி வாசகரும் பொருளுணர்ந்து உன்னையே

குருமணி சங்கரரும் அருமை தாயுமானாரும்

அருணகிரி நாதரும் அருட்ஜோதி வள்ளலும்

கருணைக்கடல் பெருகி காதலினால் உருகி

கனித்தமிழ் சொல்லினால் இனிதுனை அனுதினம்

This post is sort of like a sequel to "Romance in Religious Poetry". So the logical choice would have been to write about the song "Kanda naal mudhal". But since Kollywood took care of that, lets try something else. Now, I know people are going to be sooo thankful to me for this next one. Infact, I was contemplating putting this up at Karnatika or some such place. But in an attempt to keep this blog alive, here it is folks. Something really hard to find on the net. Right out of my now dog-eared "Paatu note", this one is really , really treasured."Naayagan - Naayaki" bhavam is what this style of poetry is called. Something that is particularly relavant to the Vishnu - worshippers. This one is just too beautiful - "Laali Aadinaal" embodies the cosmic dance at the union of two souls, usually sung at weddings.

லாலி ஆடினாள் லக்ஷ்மி லாலி ஆடினாள்

ஸ்ரி லக்ஷ்மி இன்று இங்ஙு

ஸ்ரீ ரங்ங பதியிலே ஆதிஷெஷன் அரவணையில்

மந்தகாச வதனமோடு ரங்கநாதன் - ரங்கநாச்சி

வ்ருஷபாதி திருப்பதியில் வேங்கடெசன் சகிதமாக

அபயஹஸ்த அலங்கார அலமேலு மங்ஙை இங்ஙு

ஸ்ரீ காஞ்சி தன்னிலே கருட வாகனத்திலே

வரதராஜன் சகிதமாக பெருந்தேவி தாயர் இங்ஙு

நாராயண புரத்திலே வைரமுடி மின்னிடவே

செல்ல பிள்ளை சகிதமாக மங்ஙை கல்யாணி இங்ஙு

திருவைந்தி புரத்திலே சிம்மவாகனத்திலே

தேவநாதன் சகிதமாக ஹேமாம்புஜ நாயகியும்

ஸ்ரீவில்லிபுத்துர் தன்னிலே பெரியாழ்வார் திருமகளாய்

சூடி கொடுத்த சுடர் கொடியும் ரங்ஙமன்னார் சகிதமாக

திருக்கடிகை தன்னிலே யோகநரசிம்மரோடு

அம்ருதவல்லி தாயாரும் ஆனந்தமாக இங்ஙு

PS : Thanks mom, for sitting with me patiently to correct my spelling mishtakes like my first standard, "Sangaaa... yevlo spelling mistakes .. nee exam-ke poga vendam!!"

Warning : Serious poetry ahead !

I am peaceful and happy. And contented. Perhaps in stark contrast to my current state,I came across this poem someplace. I don't know what to make of it - except it was probably written one one morbid day by someone who has more on the agenda. Doesn't quite fit into classical lyrical structure of poetry. But there is something about this poem that cries out to get people to read it. So I am reproducing with permission it here.

I am tired

I cannot cry anymore

I cannot fight anymore

I cannot run anymore

Just let me go

To where there is peace

And a little bit of happiness

I just want to be devoid of any sense

Feel,touch, laughter and tears

No more tears.. please .. no more

I don't want to add one single drop to the overflowing ocean

I don't want to run the rat race

I am tired, exhausted

Almost hollow on the inside

Empty me quick

Empty me quick

Atleast then I can turn myself inside out

And let myself get parched dry

Not one bit of moisture

Not one soft tissue

All parched dry in the desert heat

So the heat is felt no more..

No cold, no heat - no uneasy places between

Black or white

Zero or one

Along will come someone else

To fill all the absent places

Or not

For it doesn't matter

Like a collage made of flags statues

One tiny dent in the NY skyline

The big picture doesn't change

It never does.

And the world lives on

It's something about the human self

That is so convoluted

You know you are one tiny insignificant speck

But you still live on

Yearning,hoping blindly

That your life will make a difference to someone else

Knowing it never might, yet living on ....

Another day ....

I sat down to write a post - making a feeble attempt to pen down those wafting , vague ideas into something penworthy. And then Dad called.Sitting miles away from India, their only source of catching up with the latest TN elections was the internet.And as news of early leads started pouring we discussed it all - election promises , caste-based vote banks,scandals,corruption,Jaya TV and Sun TV. We discussed what makes one "Indian" and if there is even a word "American" and if so, what that really means.

And then it all came back to me - elections and political scene - 1999-2000. I was in my final year of school. Tensions, exams, and applications time. Almost oblivious to the blaring loudspeakers,gaudy posters,and larger-than-life cutouts, our lives trudged on. There were some, among us who were daughters of MPs, MLAs and party leaders.But at 16, MTV, Agarkar's posters, and paper rockets on Physics teacher's head held our fancy - competing with timed tests and mugging Sanskrit shlokas.

As the elections drew nearer, we , at home, were hoping for a change in governance.And when a key electoral alliance was forged between a national party and a local party at the state, we knew there was a chance.As days rolled by,this alliance announced their Trichy contestant.Mr.RK was an educated lawyer - a change from your average run-on-the-mill moushtached , lungi clad , sickle-in-hand politicians that Trichy had seen so far - it was a welcome change.For the first time, I saw mom and dad excited to go and vote.

Through all the political uncertainity - bargaining,haggling,deals,scams, and no-confidence votes - came February - of revision tests and exams.And the cricket matches. "To bunk school or not to bunk" seemed to be the quandary of the day, the argument being, that I could watch the match for a while, and then study through the night, since there was not much happening at school anyway.And then I heard it - Dr.S - Trichy's town president for BJP was brutally murdered. Images of yesterday's lunch session-laughter and backstreet boys talk flashed before my eyes - his daughter was my friend in school.

As we stood in the assembly that day , the school principal announced that today was a school holiday due to riots.I came home as my neighbor remarked " So ,you finally get to watch your cricket match in peace today". TV and news channels flashed the news. Some terrorist organization, rise of fundamentalism and all that .The image of my friend and her mom, and her little brother on TV can never be erased from my mind.

Saffron or Green - the story remains the same.Did she deserve an incomplete family for the rest of her life? Did we deserve to lose the bubbly, enthusiastic chatterbox of a friend?What in the world could be more important than a human life? And yes, I was terribly antagonistic.

And then "Dev" happened. IMO, the media IS really, really powerful. It was a tale of two people - a young, energetic young man and an old, seasoned police officer - from different (warring!) religious sects of India.It is a beautiful portrayal of how "politics" and "king-makers" make use of peoples emotions to incite discontent - and fuel their own vote bank.It wasn't jingoistic - no loud claims of "patriotism" and "national integration" - just a heartfelt tale of how two men deal with their own internal belief systems - with respect to their own religions. One of them loses a son to fundamentalists , but learns to view it in third person - not take it personally and hold vendetta towards the perpetrators - rather, learn to abhor the idea of people turning against each other.

So,far from it all, I now know , that accumulated hatred and prejudices don't go very far.

As R says " You know how democracy works in India? Not on the premise that " we are all one" but that "we are all different" - as diverse as we possibly can. We acknowledge this difference, and live our own lives, in our own comfort zones, stepping out when needed.That's what makes us work".

It was evening. The sky was moody, a dark bluish black. It was almost spring, but not quite. An old man walked, with a wooden stick bent like it was affected with bow-leg. The man had a straight, almost majestic gait, as he walked up a winding road. No hurry, no lethargy - just the right pace. As he ambled along, he wore a greyed cashmere shawl around his shoulder to protect him from the remanants of a chilly winter gone by.

This was the part he liked best. The winding road descended rapidly, and one false step could mean tumbling down a hundred feet. But our man, almost oblivious to the impending fall, walked on autopilot. It was almost as if he was in another place, another time, and his body just did its job. Automatically - without thinking, without feeling.

An old, worn out cycle tire,hidden by some dried leaves, a few bottles of plastic, crushed by the few automobiles that dared to traverse this stretch provided a stark contrast to the otherwise uniform conifers. Nestled in the Eastern Ghats, this small little sleepy town was one of India's best kept secrets.Our man walked along, hoping to reach home before dusk, when another world - a world of mythical ghosts and oft-heard wild animals came to life. It is only fair, he thought, that there should be a time of the day when humans retreated, and let the "other world" take over.

(the next part will be continued here)

Ask any kid in the US who the trinities of Indian religion are, and you get a prompt reply "Brayma,Veeshnew,Sheewa"(Apparently they are taught this in high school). Religion, however, changed faces as civilization progressed, and various deities and sub-deites thus emerged.Some of these, are highly localized. For example, down south - one can see prevalance of these three deities - Lord Ayyapa, Lord Muruga and the "Amman" ( as various forms). Lord Hanuman was the deity of choice for the Haryanvis and Rajasthanis.Marathi's swear by ( no pun intended) Lord Vinayak. And the Bengalis have a thing for Goddess Kali.And then of course , are countless "Kaval Deivams" and "Kula Deivams".

A deep-throated Yesudas singing "Harivarasanam" brings back memories of hoards and hoards of Ayyappan tourists in Srirangam every December, on the way to Sabarimala. This deity is supposed to be elder to Muruga and Vinakaya - an offspring of Mohini (who is Lord Vishnu , whose sister Goddess Parvati is Lord Shiva's wife....So from these equations...Wow!!) and Lord Shiva - basically Hari and haran in one. So anyway,Here is the verse.Very evocative lyrics - very powerful singing.

Harivarasanam Viswamohanam

Haridadhiswaram Aaradhyapadhukam

Arivimardhanam Nithyanarthanam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Saranakirtanam Bakhtamanasam

Bharanalolupam Narthanalasam

Arunabhasuram Bhoothanayakam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Pranayasathyakam Praananayakam

Pranathakalpakam Suprabhanjitham

Pranavamanidram Keerthanapriyam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Thuragavahanam Sundarananam

Varagadhayudham Vedavavarnitham

Gurukrupakaram Keerthanapriyam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Tribuvanarchitam Devathathmakam

Trinayanam Prabhum Divyadeshikam

Tridashapoojitham Chinthithapradam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Bhavabhayapaham Bhavukavaham

Bhuvanamohanam Bhoothibhooshanam

Dhavalavahanam Divyavaranam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Kalamrudusmitham Sundarananam

Kalabhakomalam Gathramohanam

Kalabhakesari Vajivahanam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Srithajanapriyam Chinthithapradam

Sruthivibhushanam Sadhujeevanam

Sruthimanoharam Geethalalasam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Things I miss about the only place I can ever call "Home" :

1. The fact that I always belonged. I was loved and accepted for who I was, not on the basis of what people thought were right or wrong.

2. I never carefully worded what I wanted to say, and how I would come accross to people. People always understood where I came from.

3. I could hug my friends any time I wanted, without thinking if it was a girl/boy , junior/senior..

4. I could swear in all possible languages freely, without my friends judging me/getting scandalized..

5. Going out of the way, overboard, crazy - and could still be normal. .

6. MB - where I could change in a room full of wingees, and not care..

7. I could combined-crash with friends, without arousing anyone's lesbian suspicions..

8. I could hitch a ride , and sit in the front bar of the guys cycles - no one would think I was flirting..

9. "Mayira pochu" and "Yetha sollu" were philosophies that were loved and trusted through times..

10. Birthdays were considered special occasions - filled with surprises and cakes , and a lot of good vibes around..

Ah ! Thank God for the good times !!!

Oh yeah ! It was another sleepy day, when you curse day light savings to get used to an hour less sleep. As I slowly trudged my way to work , I heard the bus driver talk about detours because of the parade. The parade, is one of Cincinnati's oldest traditions, and today was the 87th such.

Sponsored by Findlay market, on Elder and Race streets,the parade started on over-the-Rhine, and ended at Broadway(This route is the heart of downtown Cincinnati). It marks the start of spring, and the baseball season. The whole town was painted Red today, with people sporting red hair, red makeup, and even red animals to mark the occasion.

The parade itself , was one jolly event , and people braved the chills to see school bands, Reds fans, and various commercial companies in action, as each one tried to outdo the other's Reds fanaticsm.Meijer's first truck, old style TV and radio antennas,yatches, a bus full of cute 5 -year olds who could barely say "Go reds", a makeshift mobile market and people dressed as pea pods and beans, an Elvis impersonator, a 1952 orginal bobcat - ah! The joys of living in a small, midwestern town !!!

The first game of the season, Cincinnati Reds vs Chicago Cubs, had an added attraction today - President Bush throwing in the ceremonial first pitch. The breakroom of my office on the 17th floor, has a spectacular view of the ballpark, and the river. The big screen would supplement the live action, just in case. Opening day is almost a local holiday in Cincinnati.

Do you want a taste of the American corporate work ethic ? The game was supposed to start at 2 15. And we had a meeting from 2 to 3 today.As we sat in our conference rooms on the 19th floor, I struggled to stop this urge to crane my neck out of the window to see the first pitch.Our meeting went on, oblivious to the fact that there was this country's president , 100 yards away,visible to us, if we would only see!!! Wow!

(An "I-feel-so-grown-up" type comment would be a perfect end to this tale,but I am too swamped ;) !!)

There is this phase of growing up, when the bird flies out of its nest, and discovers a whole new world. A world , different from its own. In that process, you discover things about yourself, and your "home" - somethings you are thankful for, and somethings you want to change about yourself. When I look back at the time I was 16, and I left home to live with new people in a far away land one thing I loved about my home - It always taught be to be open-minded. Especially in terms of religion/spirituality - based notions. The first three lines of this little prayer have always been very special to me, and my family. For no particular reason , I want to post this today.Here is the full prayer.

It was all planned - the proverbial calm-after-the-storm post. I would write a post about Orkut,or a colored map showing "all the states in India/US I have visited". And life would go on normally for everyone around. But then, the more I read about the blank noise project posts, I grew as a person. This was an initiative, not only to bring my outrage to the public, but also to learn what goes on , on the other side of the coin. Therefore, I tried to read all the posts, mainly those written by men. Here are some links of posts, that really modified my thought process. IMHO, I think these men deserve much more praise for coming out in the open about this seemingly "feminist" issue.

http://gauravsabnis.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-am-offended.html Oh really ??? Not all you guys wanna maul anything that resembles a female that comes by ??? Why is this fact so lost on me? Oh , well , maybe because of all those shitty Tam and Hindi movies glorifying the roadside romeo. Maybe because Vijay "puts sense" into Asin , and chides her for wearing a miniskirt.He becomes the hero, and the girl falls for him !!! (WTF??) But anyway, Thanks Dude, for letting us know some men actually get offended by those generalizations.

http://peacefarm.prayas.in/?p=131 Dude , you are not a Bot, you are a real person right?Don't you realise it means we have to revisit the first point in the rulebook "Most Indian men are like this " that our moms taught us when we were twelve :))??? Anyways ! Good post man !!!

Dedicated to the Blank Noise Project :



It was a weekday evening.And especially tiring day, it was a first day of Workshop practice.Athough we were adequately warned about "Smithy guy pawan" and how he had trouble staying within bounds, K was furious. He had done it again.Trying to touch girls in the pretext of teaching them workshop fundas.This of course, led us recounting each of our experiences with street harassment, and other sexual misconducts. Six years later, as I sit down to write this post, I switch off my TV playing the Oscars, and focus. Yes, every single girlfriend I've ever had , can recount atleast one such incident where she has felt violated.

Now I know : You don't have a "past" if you have had experiences like this. Alteast in India, it is a part of becoming a woman - the first lesson you learn, is beware. And its ok to err on the side of caution rather than being naive.

I must have been around 14 years old. I was into inter-school competitions - singing,debate,quizzing and the like. Athough initially it started off as a ploy to bunk classes, the prizes and recognitions got me hooked. It was one such competition, called "Crown Capper" which was then, a big deal. Intensely competitive, and I was thrilled when I won. I rode the bus home. The walk from the bus stop to my home,is a five minute walk through a dimly lit road. I was over the moon, and couldn't wait to go home and share the excitement. A man in a cycle rode by, is arm quickly positioned over my torso. And in a flash, it was all over. I was still dazed when I got home, and I forgot all about the trophy and celebration.Suddenly it all seemed so unimportant. I remember sobbing, and telling my mom, about some rowdy elements on the street. No more. I was too embarrased to talk about this to anyone. I would refer to it as "an incident",but no more. I would recall what my Geography mam would tell us, " .... it just means, you did something to get his attention". For a long time, I went guilty.

Now I know : It is NOT your fault. Stop feeling guilty.It is not your clothes, it is not your makeup(or lack thereof).It is about THEM. Too bad.


I used to ride my "Trendy" to school at 16. One day, it was around 10 in the night, and I was coming home after a rigorous practice test session at tuitions. There is a small tributary of Cauvery that runs a few blocks down from where I used to live. It is dry and deserted most of the time - a typical "Vaaikaal". A man rode another bike parallel to me, and started talking obscene stuff to me. I was soo furious, and at that point in time, my swear word vocabulary was limited to "idiot" "stupid" and a maximum of "asshole", none of which , of course would make any sense to that guy who knew only Tamil. I was angry that I did not know any swear words in my mother tongue, so I could lash out at him. I remember going home and asking my mom to teach me swear words. Only to be told off.

Now I know : A lot of swear words in a variety of languages. I am not a prude. I swear with discretion. Because, there are such people who deserve to be sweared at. Otherwise you become a pushover. If I had to choose between being the "arrogant girl with an attitude problem" and the "doormat", I'd much rather choose to be the former.ANY DAY.

TN express is a huge train, that traverses a considerable cross section of India. It is almost a two day journey end-to-end, and the ride is filled with a wide variety of people. We were a group, about six of us, who usually travel together. It was a usual day of fun and frolic. S, who went by the wash basin to remove her contact lenses, returned to the compartment - furious.It took her quite some time to relate what happened. Our 18 year old brains were thinking - "Well, this is the stuff only mallu movies and boring documentaries are made of". And so,we each went near the wash basin, and checked it out for ourselves. Yes, sure enough, there was a small boy - about seven years of age, sitting at the edge of the door, with his legs spread wide. And a middle aged man, with his shoe-ed foot, stamping the small boy's private parts.We were all furious.

Now I know : Molestation is not gender specific. Or age specific. To me,this has nothing to do with feminism. It is rage directed towards some adults, conditioned by the society to think they can get away with doing all this.

Me and K , in our final year of undergrad. This was the first time we were riding the famous Pilani to Delhi bus to and fro. Our worst fears were confirmed - the only available seat was a three seater. We each took turns sitting in the middle seat. Two "lockies" and a lot of paan chewing and touching "galti se" later, we were relieved when a scientist from CEERI sat by us. He started chatting about local buses, and weather and such stuff. Sometime later, K told me he was trying to put his arm around her waist. She wasn't sure if he realised it.We swapped places, and the same thing happened to me. As the bus approached Delhi, he started enquiring about where we would stay, and insisted he accompany us "to safety" in a lodge that he knew. Our guesses were confirmed.It took a lot of effort before we finally shook him off at ISBT.

Now I know : It is not about illiterate men. It is not about unemployed road side romeos. These people can exist anywhere. In our own midst. And it is not about young men. They come in all shapes, sizes and age and nationality.


Me and K again.After we passed out. On a visit to BITS.We rode the notorious Karnataka Express. Our bay had army men, returning to their stations. Past experiences told us Army men ranked really high on the "likely trouble" index. We each took our berths and switched off the lights. And out of nowhere , this guy's hand drops out of his berth, and sways all the way around, and things started getting nasty. We sat together, awake all night, huddled up to avoid the touching, talked to the TTR the next day and got ourselves shifted out.

Now I know : Sometimes,discretion is the better part of valor. It is better to act intelligently, rather than act hasty in that rush of emotions. Get away when you have to.It is one thing when you are in a crowded bus , when you holler at the miscreant.People notice, and you are safe. It is foolish to try and holler in the middle of the night,in a compartment full of horny men.


Just a few things that come to mind to help be careful :

1.Always carry your cell phone with you.Even if it is to the grocery store next street.

2. Never hesitate to ask for help. It is your LIFE, and "what if everyone comes to know" seems so insignificant in comparison.

3.Be prepared.Take elementary classes in self defense.Beginning karate,kickboxing - anything that helps you feel like you can take care of yourself.If not anything , it is a confidence booster.

4.I dont know how relevant this is in India, but always report any assault to the police. I dont really believe in this "oh, what will happen to my reputation" kinda stuff.


5. There is a thin line between being brave and independent , and being foolish. Act smart.

The bottom line - You can never be too careful. If I can recall these issues of sexual overtures in such great detail, I shudder to think of those people (men/women/children) who have been raped and molested. This issue is even more relevant in India, for two reasons - the excessive population, and lack of a good law enforcement system.But as they say, change is not an isolated process.It develops from within, and then spreads into the consciousness of a whole society. It takes time. And how will a 22 year old writing about it , in the comfort of a heated room help?Maybe it would strike a chord with someone, somewhere - and there might just be a better tommorow.

Tag : blog-a-thon 2006

About a week ago, one of my friends called, and we were talking about plans for the Friday evening. He, being a"he", is the kinda guy who vehementely vetoes watching "Dirty Dancing" and turns the votes towards, some action flick, only to settle for "In-Laws" instead. So anyway, I was telling him how I was planning to watch "Love Actually" , fully expecting some wisecrack about how it was a total mushy - gooey thing to watch. To my surprise, not only had he seen it too many number of times, but he actually totally loves it !! Oh yeah , for all their macho-dacho bravado, men do secretly love "Father of the Bride" and a friend of mine actually weeps everytime he sees it, thinking of his daughters!!!

Admit it, you have spent some Friday nights huddled up watching a chick flick - be it in the theaters,your TV or computer. And whether you are a guy or a girl, you probably have been suckers for these kinda movies - atleast one. I for one , would much rather watch "I do, they Don't" rather than recite scenes from "Matrix". So here goes, the Top 10 chick flicks I've seen so far.(Or the ones I remember atleast, anyway!!)

1. "When Harry met Sally..."

Yeah ! Like it could BE anything else! I still remember this day when a few of us, projected it on the walls of a this place, fondly called "Nizamuddin". Pulling out all sofas and making comfortable beds, three of us watched the movie , in complete silence.... Well, anyway, its a cute movie, a typical "feel good" at the end of a long hard day.

2. "Casablanca "

A black-and-white movie, catching my fancy? I don't think that has happened before. It is a war-torn world, with refugees seeking asylum.Rick is your typical taciturn,cynical hero, apparently excited by nothing. And as usual he has a past, that is revealed when he meets his old flame, but they don't exactly live happily ever after. Plus it has that charm of a small African town , with its crowded marketplace and peddlers. Very nice movie.

3. "Jerry Maguire"

Now before all you guys flinch, yes , it is a chick flick,under the guise of a lot of sports crap. Yup, you have a sporting manager, but that doesnt make it a guy flick. It is still lots of weeping, and kissing , and bonding with the son type stuff. And what was that line again? "You complete me" :)) And that cute little bespectacled kid, tugging at Tom Cruise's legs - that sealed it!! (Yes, I am a sucker for cute kids!I am the kind who oggles at kids at the Mall, and goes "Oh shoooo cuteeee" ).

4. "Hitch"

That dance sequence where he teaches the fat guy to dance - I really think I must have laughed so hard, that people all around me in the theater thought I was crazy. Oh, and the way he hits on Eva Mendes at the bar - NICE!! Not to mention, THAT was when Eva sky rocketed her way into my "Top 10 women I would have flipped for, if I were a guy" list. Plus, it really has some good insights on how to woo a girl.This is the types I would like to own a DVD of.(Tip: Would make a good bday gift for me ;))


5. "Wedding Crashers"

Hilarious. And grown-up fun.(I vaguely remember sitting through this one wondering why Owen Wilson is considered one of the sexiest men alive!)Reminded me of how we used to crash farewells, and assoc dinners at BITS. Its your typical bollywood type masala mix, but a real funny one at that - Guy crashes parties,and makes out all the time, then meets this woman, falls in love, meets her family , gets busted, and then they makeup, and life is hunky-dory all again. (Yeah right !!) But hey ! Thats what chick-flicks are all about !!


6. "You've got Mail"

Well, I was in high school, and had a net friend, who I had a crush on, and then there was this movie. Enough said.

7. "An Officer and a Gentleman"

Richard Gere in a pristine white navy suit (reminded of Ross in friends??)sweeping his lady love off her feet, in the last scene. And a lot of Navy related stuff, like training, courage, strength , endurance and all that. And of course, he is the good guy who wants to honor commitment to this girl and all those related things. Good one.

8. "Erin Brockovich"

Well, technically, this might not be your run-on-the-mill chick flick, although it starrs Julia Roberts, the queen of the genre. But yes, it is about a single mom, strong and courageous , facing difficulties and then has a man who understands her, and takes care of her kids. I remember seeing the real Erin Brokovich on Oprah's and I must say, Julia has done a real good job of it.

9."Elizabethtown"

Okay, so its a lot of Kentucky, and I saw the movie in Kentucky, in a place 2.5 hours from Elizabethtown, too. Its has a sort of a cute midwestern town charm. And how she pronounces "Louisville". And uncles, and aunts, Chuck's wedding and Susan Sarandon's swing dancing. And of course, Orlando Bloom!!

10."Fools Rush In"

Matthew Perry!!
And an unplanned pregnancy, and a marriage. A lot of mexican dancing, and food and family parties. Brothers and dads who watch out for their girl. And of course those dialogues that make a chick flick what it is ... " You don't understand the concept of a family! To you it's something you put up with on national holidays! Love is a gift, Alex... not an obligation..."

There are these moments in life, when all around you is strife, but strangely, almost like divine preordinance, you find that oasis - music that just talks to you. Today, as I sit in front of my 12 inch partner, playing raaga Desh, it transports you to a place where there is no conscious thought - just notes strewn together in seemingly careless fashion , that somehow marvelously arrange themselves to make sense - and beauty.

There is something really beautiful about knowing a language like Thamizh ( YES,that is not Tamil!!) apart from being able to cuss virtually anyone from a co-passenger to your advisor and make it seem like you were actually complimenting their shirt. You can appreciate the fervor of the song, which is only matched by a bold raaga like Desh, to fully convey the tone of the lyrics.

I have tried my best to reproduce the song lyrics(complete with repetitions) in the best Thamizh(and unicode) I can, based on a real raw version that I found on the net. I am a sort of a purist in terms of music, in that I really dont believe in the fancy "sh" instead of "s". A song in Thamizh is meant to be pronounced right, not sankritzed like "shevagan sheer kelatha shevi yenna sheviye". So here is a de-sanskritized version of the song :

Good things about the Chicken-pox :

1. The first couple of days,you think you are in hell.Then you get a hang of it.

2. You can't sleep on your sides or back initially.And there is not much you can eat too.So you are actually on a crash diet and sleep deprived,so you are on the perfect weight loss plan!!!

3. Amazing care from friends and family... its like R & R !!!

4. You get to watch about 16 M*A*S*H episodes a day, with a few Gilmore girls,and F.R.I.E.N.D.S thrown in for variety.

5. You get to sleep a lot after the initial phase, and so you are sequestered in a world of good food,good sleep,lots of TV,lots of books,measured Internet, minimal phone calls.Life , lets face it , is good !!!

Oh, and thanks folks, for all the good wishes and help.Bye-bye chickenpox.I sure won't miss ya!!

Over and Out ,

Sang

Sometime in May 2005, an innocuous email sitting in my inbox announced someone's marriage. It wasn't just someone. It was someone in "the gang". My thoughts wafted to this bunch, a dozen or so of us, closely knit by circumstances or fate,cuddled up securely in a cute little hamlet in Rajasthan,facing our fears, discovering our strengths, living life together,and growing up.These are little snippets, from our conversations over all these years.

"Hey guys, cmon man, we havent really had a lot of fun lately.. It has been two whole days, thats like 48 hours since we all met up, lets go to c'not"

"People, lets play Val-friend"

"Oh-ho-ho guess who wore a bright yellow shirt today and made a fool of himself"

"Hey!! you zuked a test man, you are officially av-1 now, treat treat treat !!!"

"Guys, I am really running out on dosh here, could you just stop washing your hands in coke, just because I am treating !!!"

"Wo-ho-ho.. Check that outsti babe .. she is so totally hawt!!"

" Guys, the most funny thing happened... You know this guy I have a crush on right? and how he always wears the same T shirt, oh I am gonna protest by wearing the same damn color for one whole week till the whole class notices!!!"

"Hey people, this is S and K reporting from IPC. The time , as you all can see ,is 8 30, that means we walked out of a three hour exam in thirty minutes,and K has broken her personal best of 50 mins by a whopping 20 minute margin.Way to go man!! We are proud of you!!!"


"People,another company gave us the finger"

"Oh yes! I made that Job"

" Did I tell you I missed my 10, for the first time?"

" Yes, I have started smoking"

"Oh Cmon, stop it guys, I like this girl. Yes, did you hear that ?"

"Thalai decided to give me 5 recos, did you hear that!!!"

"Yes, that is my breath, I got sloshed yesterday"

" Fine, so now there is someone more important to you than the gang"

" Hope you make a job at PS II"

"Guys, thats admit number 5, no sign of Aid yet "

"Hang in there, you will get over her"

"Its a family emergency, screw the Elliots plan"

" We are there for you, always"



" I am getting married in two months. Hope you can guys can make it to the wedding "

"So this is my India trip itinerary...."

" I have to get my appraisal done .."

"So thats it, this is a commitment for life, I am in for a Phd"

" My PM screwed me ...."

" I am taking Salsa classes... and dating a hot Mexican chick..."

" Remember that salary hike I was talking about ? I got it !"

" Yes, thats what I was telling you when I was chatting with you yesterday, or was it today? I wouldn't know , coz I have been stuck in this lab for eternity"

" My funding chances....."

" Another telecon, I am ripping these bastards apart...."

" An appreciation mail....."

" My In-laws are visiting....."

"He graduates first, and then I graduate, and we both pay back our loans, then go back to India, tell parents about us, and get married by 2010 "

" Another Valdee , and I am still single guys... that joke you guys played on me when we played Val-friend in college? Not funny anymore....."


I hope to revisit and add more to this post as years go by....

Top 8 ways to weather a dry spell , you know, blogging-wise :

8. A long silence. And then a paragraph about how busy you have been lately, asking the readers to hold on.

7. Photoblog : This way you don't have to fill the space with words, you see. Plus, didn't someone say a picture is worth a thousand words?

6. Take one of your half-written drafts, rehash it, add a paragraph about when, where and why it was written and post it.

5. "There is this interesting forward that you guys should read" - always works. And then two months later, the original writer chances on it while googling for his own story, visits your blog, and posts a comment, asking you to remove the post. You, go back and "duely acknowledge" him,link up the URL, and let it stay on your blog anyway.

4. Post a collection of links , which you think are "insightful", "funny" or otherwise "thought provoking" and ask the readers to "please take a moment to read this".

3. Write a paragraph about latest happenings accross the world, but give up in the middle, due to ,well, you know,writer's block, and do a readers poll on this "hot issue".

2. Play with the blog template, tinker it a bit, and post about it.Don't forget the punchline "Readers comments welcome".

1. And the Top thing to do : Meta-blogging. That is, Blog about blogging.How you started it, how each on is different in his/her own way, how you can never be funny, how you can totally identify with xyz's blog even though you are total strangers... well, you get the drift !

In exactly one week from now, at precisely the same time, I would probably be cruising over the Atlantic Ocean at an altitude of 55k feet. I am really not one of those people who suffer from flight sickness, or any other kind of sickness related to travel, but then I don't fancy these long flights, and even longer layovers.Here is one of my unfinished posts , written on one particularly boring layover at the Chicago O'Hare a few months ago.

It was a cold,damp morning. I was dozing on UA 5855,oblivious to the surroundings. A group of boisterious teenagers - not exactly my idea of unobtrusive co-passengers.

"We have an international connection to make" they said to the helpful flight attendant. "All connections may have been delayed due to bad weather too, so you might be able to make it on time". She came back with terminal numbers for all our connecting flights.

"Yours would be c4" she said, with a practised smile that she must have flashed to over a thousand strangers now. "Oh, wait a minute, I think we are landing at c4 too. Where are you going?" She asked. "Calagary" they replied. "You might be continuing on this flight Sir." There was a joyous glee on their faces. "What luck !" they thought.

She came back in sometime, only to tell them that this flight would not continue to Calagary, and so the terminal information was wrong afterall.They looked forlorn. The flight descended.The PA system crackled to life "As a courtesy to other co-passengers who have tight connections, we request you to stand by , and let them pass first".

When you are at the rear end of the flight, that doesn't help much either. They picked their belongings hurriedly,throwing the whole overhead compartment into disarray. One of them glanced through the window. "Oh look, that one over there, just might be our Calagary flight. We may have watched our flight depart before our own eyes!!" they cranked their necks to see a jumbo international Boeing getting ready for a long haul.

They waited, and waited. "Hey we should check if all these people standing before us have connecting flights.." The long haired nerdy teen looked at an old man, "Hey, you dont look like you have a connecting flight!!" they joked, sarascm peeking out from one tiny corner."We are nice people, we swear" they said ,as the semi-amused flight attendant watched.It was almost like a sine-wave graph - mixed feelings of hope and resignation as these starry eyed teenagers waited.

Did they miss the flight at the end? Would it have made a difference if they were at seat 1 instead of seat 16? Did they still make it to their place on time? I wondered.There is not much one can do about flights,and journeys.You miss some, you let some go in front of your eyes. YOu board some,just on time.

And then you travel.And travel. And travel.

This thanksgiving, I am thankful to :

• The power of God, who helped the most important person in my life recover.
• The power of the will, in each one of us. Tommorow never dies.Really, it never does.
• Good health, and FAMILY.Touchwood.
• Friends. Some things just get better and better :)

Happy Thanksgiving !!!

Looking forward to many more cooking disasters,and cleaning hungamas,irrational hogging sprees ,shopping binges, sisterhood nite-outs and more with you !!!

It did arrive today. The idea of free in-network calling appealed to me, and I was looking forward to it.After a midterm break, I unwrapped it, and checked out the polyphonic ringtones and other features. In a few hours, the number porting would work, and I would have the same number, lots of more free minutes, plus free calling to the people I most often call. This was my idea of the perfect cell phone plan.

But then, it did not work. I could either have the number, or the plan. Not both. I was perplexed. Which brought home another truth. I , as a person, tend to resist change. The idea of giving out new numbers to all my friends and contacts, did not appeal to me. I had a thousand different thoughts running all over my mind. The idea of switching over to a non-local number wasn't too inviting. I tried to think of ways to avert it. Plus, this number had a nostalgic feeling to it... all those calls, all those interviews....

Stop it. I told myself. Change is inevitable. You accept it and move on. Or lose out. Embrace change and get on with it. Welcome to my life, America's largest cellular network !!

Call it a side effect of growing up. Call it a side effect of excessive compulsive bloghopping disorder.Call it what you will, I just had to get this off my chest. There comes a point in your life , where you dig deep. And place yourself in the judgement stand, and judge yourself. Sometimes too lenient, sometimes too harsh.Sometimes, sentencing yourself to lifelong imprisonment, sometimes, understanding, and giving yourself that gentle pat. Sometimes you blame yourself completely, sometimes, you wallow in self-pity, thinking"Why me?".

You look back, at all that mistakes you made in the past, all people you hurt , and think, maybe you deserve all this shit and more. You are thankful to people, who have been there, who understand - even those irrational emotional binges that you get into. In all these years, these are the people who have been there, cheering me on, believing in me, pleading me to love myself a little more, asking me to wait for better times.These are people who think I deserve much more. These are people who think I am really special. I have needed these people in more ways I can imagine.

And I have failed repeatedly, to acknowledge their existence, much less celebrate it. I have hurt some, I have failed some,I have been indifferent to others. I have been a bitch, not to celebrate these people. And now, all I am left with is a deep distaste for who I am, and what I have become.I may never have some of these people back again in my life, and I know I ve deserved it completely. People learn from mistakes, they say. Maybe I have become a better person, after all the hurt I have caused these people. Does it matter anymore? I dont know.

You people know who you are. And if it helps in any, any way - I am sorry.

Is it a phase in every bloggers life? A phase when you are caught? It is like someone gagged your mouth shut, and you are too tired to complain.Like this "Water water, everywhere, but not any drop to drink" syndrome. Like you want to babble along pointlessly, but realise you cannot.Either there is a lot to say, or there is nothing.Like at crossroads, you can either stop,pretend this blog never existed, and go on. Or you can choose to stay, and do something about it.

I dont know what happens next, but I sure as a hell wish I write, write and write.

Stay with me on this, there will be better times. Hopefully.

There is something uniquely liberating about posting in the middle of a class.Especially with midterms around the corner. The same way as walking out in the middle of the class is. Or loudly biting your way into a crunchy wrap oblivious to Markovian queues is.

It just brings home the sharp contrast between the way the whole teacher-student equation works in India vs USA. I guess it has more to do with the whole mythology and the Guru-shishya equation. I am not sure I can entirely shake off its effects, but I sure love not having to stand up and fold my arms each time I have a question in class.(Which is not very often believe me!!)

Here is to my roomie's tag : My 55 words .....


Tension mounted by the day. It was thankless and frustrating, and just when he was about to give up and go home - "With all its sham, drudgery ,lies ,deception and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world"- The thoughtful forward popping up from his screen,just made his day.It does get better someday.

There are not many good things a telegram can bring. Especially not when the postman takes dad away to deliver the news.

"Uncle just left to Hyd, maybe he telegrammed to tell us they reached safely" I thought. Big events, and earth shattering news still resided in the domain of "Chitti" or "Bold and the Beautiful" for me. My mundane life would be just that - Mundane.

Disbelief, is the word. As I read, and re-read the contents of the telegram."Wake up sang, It is a bad dream", I told myself. I stared , and stared. It did not sink in. No, this cant happen to us - a quiet family on a weekend - grandma was recuperating, we were all just spending some quiet time after a strenous stint at the hospital. No this can't happen.

He was gone.We were born 40 days apart.We were 14. Flashes from our childhood together - how we used to bring pails of water home for paati to cook,how we sang "Joote do paise lo" from HAHK at the top of our voice, how I was the only one he did not see on is very last visit, a week ago... "Why me?"

My first tryst with death. And pain,and hurt.I was still struggling to come to terms with it.The enormity of it all - how trivial fighting for the remote seemed. I stared at his lifeless body. He was peaceful. Where was he? What was he thinking? Did he know I was standing near him? Did he know how my life would pan out? Is he watching us from beyond?

I visited his grave on every one of my visits.And then they became less frequent. And one day they stopped.He is a distant memory now. I look at his photo - a small passport size photo, yellowed at the edges.

Uncle and Aunt could not go on. Or so it seemed. I was a mute spectator to their sorrow.And then, there was another day, and there was a small little kid, to brighten their lives.

Ha ! How ephemeral human bonds seem. Even the greatest sorrow tides over,the morrow comes, and life goes on.

Spammed inboxes? Spammed message boards? And now spammed blog comments !!What is the world coming to !!!

You wake up,and log on. And just when your fingers get numb from deleting all your bulk mails,you rush to blogdom for a healthy respite. But what do you see ? More investments, houses,mortgage and cars !! Makes you want to beat the shit out of those little bots sitting on the etherworld, and strangle 'em to death. And maybe spearhead an all-out attack on these creatures, a la "War of the Worlds", only , I would be the cool geek who can do it all from a dark,gadget filled room full of junk food and nerdy CDs.

Naa, who am I kidding, let me get back to my comfy chair and continue to surf the net. Someone, somewhere, is engaged in a feirce spam-fight, right now. I dont want to deprive them of their glory in the geekdom.

Until then , Oh ye Dark Spam Gods, spareth me !!

Before you starting cursing me from your already maxed-out-on-software-jargon computers, NO, I am not geeky enough to talk about large binary objects. Not here atleast.

BLOB, is an awesome, cool new idea.Please spare a moment to check this out, and leave your comments.

Love ya !

அம்மா !!! மிக்க நாட்களுக்கு பின் தமிழில் எழுதுகின்றேன்.மெய் சிலிற்கின்றது.

Tamil is considered by many to be one of the toughest Indian languages to learn.With more than 200 alphabets,and their numerous variants,reading and writing good Tamil is still a challenge to me.(Which is ironic, given that it is my mother tongue, and that lived in a state that sleeps,eats, walks, and swears by Tamizh for atleast 16 years!)

So anyway, found this cool tool that helps you write in Tamil, thanks to Piggy. The words above, roughly translated means I am glad to write tamil after a long time.Here is one more try I hope I got right ;)

செந்தமிழ் நாடென்னும் போதினிலே இன்ப தேன் வந்து பாயுது காதினிலே!!! :))

"But then Maadhu Uncle's twins sing so well, maybe you should try going to this music teacher yourself!!"


The three of us , were very excited. We had our new bicycles and couldn't wait to ride to Mrs. M , who lived a whole 15 minutes away.We waited, as she taught a set of "senior" students in her class.

She looked stern, almost cold.Five feet eight, she towered over the average south Indian female, and in some cases, the male too. Hair neatly tied into a bun,she wore glasses,and a set of false teeth that fitted so well, you couldn't tell.

"How about Shankarabharanam varnam?You guys sing well. Sangeetha, you should take care of your Talam,Jay your Shruti, and Gowri, you sing like you have no life. Music, is as much an art , as it is a science, as it is tedious Math.Oh! There comes my grandkid.Look, she is three years old, and she is mouthing swara patterns from Suddha Dhanyasi varnam already!" She beamed with pride.

----

"I have two daughters, I dont regret that I have no sons. I was born into a musical family in Calcutta. I grew up wearing skirts and chasing squirrels. We were brave, we didn't know guys treated us differently.I learnt carnatic music since I was five, from a descendant of Sri.Muthuswamy Dikshitar.I used to live for those music classes.We used to long for those occasions when the december music season concerts were broadcast. I used to walk thirty minutes to my wealthy uncle, who owned a radio, and listen to Semmangudi in concert.Those were some days!" She sighed.

We all listened,some wondering when this old lady would end the nostalgia session, and get on with the varnam.R walked in. Mrs.M was so proud of her.She was the only one,among all her students,who chose carnatic music as a profession.She accompanied Mrs.M on her concerts, and occasionally taught Geethams to kids on their sunday classses. And of course, she was the "Varali"* girl.

----

"I was hardly sixteen when I came to Srirangam. It was a rude awakening for me. I never belonged to this place and these narrow-minded people. I still dont". R smiles knowingly. She must have heard it many times over. "Music is not something you do mindlessly in this class for an hour. It should be a part of your whole being. Did anyone notice how blatantly the newbie hearthrob singer murdered Ranjani yesterday? Vakra swaras add beauty to the raga, but thats a different story..."

----

We had graduated to almost the middle tier of students in her class. Sometimes she let us lead the Sunday voice classes.She even boldly let us learn "Sri Maha ganapathi ravathumam" and patiently suffered, as we blundered out way through Mishra Chapu.

----

----

"There is a Sadhasiva Bramhendrar Aradhana coming up in Nerur. It is a beautiful village near the Cauvery river.And it is a wonderful chance for you to sing on stage"."Manasa Sancharare..." filled everyone's ears for the next few days. We were around thirteen years at that time, and this was a fun trip away from home more than anything else.Our imagination was working overtime. After class huddles turned to a to-do list of sleuthing activities a la Nancy Drew - torchlights,candles, the extra pair of shoes ,cassette players - it took a lot of effort from R before we resigned to the fact that we had to do some serious practising and singing.

----

----

"That was a good show. I am very happy with you people. What did I say? Hard work pays off" She said, holding up the back pages of my music note which said " 16/4/96 - My daughter sang for 1 hour today" - signed by my mom. She really tried hard, to get us sing well. I looked forward to my singing classes. The cycle ride, the company, and more importantly the teacher, who treated us like a friend, on whom she could confide anything.As we entered the class one day, we saw R sitting with the shruti box."Sit down" Mrs.M said. And smiled broadly. "Jagadha nandhaka.." The first pancharatna krithi.The ultimate dream. The single phrase that said , "Yes, I think it is time".I smiled back.

----

"They found out that I was trying to get help, my in-laws. I was pregnant , and weak. I was made to sit in this place,"she pointed to a dark dungeon in her single dimensional agraharam house. "I miscarried, and I was left to haemorrhage for two whole days" .That night,resting my head on mom's lap, I cried softly. Yes, the world is a harsh place to live in, I tried telling myself. But at that particular instant, mom's cuddle made it feel otherwise.

----

It was a very important competition. We were touted as rivals, and this was the culmination. I had to do better.It was about the teacher as much as it was about me. We sat for hours practising kalyani and saveri. "Raaga Alapana is easy.. just close your eyes and go with the flow" she said. I tried.

----

----

I looked at the unfinished "Sadhinchene.." - and my world that slowly changed into World Cup finals,crushes, public exams ,classes,late nights, applications,entrance exams and cutoffs. It gradually took me away from her,and music.She never once complained.

I walked in, a few years later, the cute ladybird replaced by a 60 cc "Trendy" - To tell her that I was going away, far away to the land of camels and sand dunes and that I was excited. I saw the old competitor, coolly sitting in front of her, singing "Bajare manasa .." For a minute I thought "How!!". The conversation eased, and turned to different things.And she resumed teaching. "No thats not the way, it needs to meander up the scale for a split second before reaching the lower octave" she said. They tried it for what seemed like eternity as I sat there, watching them. "No, this is how its done" she said, and motioned me to sing. I hesitated for a second. I hadnt sung in almost a year now.And then "Vrijina vidhooram vishwadharam...".She smiled. I smiled too. I hadn't let her down.

----

Her daughter was in Germany now. She told me how technology fascinates her. She gave me her email id, and told me how she can surf the net, send and recieve emails and even print invites off the web in the local net cafe. She told me how her Germany trip was a big hit, she told me about the temples, the cars, the concerts, the autobahn, and the euro conversion.

----

I walked in, to find a group of young people sitting. "Voice culture is a very important technique , it helps in learning difficult keerthanas", she said. And smiled at me. I waited. We chatted about my applications, my job offers, salaries and Visas. She looked at her students and told them how they should practise "Sadhinchene.." in her absence. Or...she smiled at me. She let me sit by the shruti box, as she walked away."Kanakanaruchira .." in Varali, as the others followed.My twin cousins smiled. I was happy.I am pretty sure she was too.

Just got back from one of those things that make you see why people would think you are a geek. I went on a visit to our Data Center. The tour was for a whole hour, and I totally enjoyed it.

Me and my 18 year old, just-out-of-high-school fellow intern friend had loads to discuss , from movies to,well movies. He is what you would expect to see in an 18 year old American kid.Ruffled hair,anti-establishment,funny and a strong opinion about everything in the world. I must say, It has been quite a while since I met anyone younger to me,and it was refreshing to be with someone who is not uptight about anything,and doesnt try to be politically correct everytime.(Oh and I love the "Wow! you are a masters in computer science, so you know everything about programming!!" bit, although I am pretty sure the kid knows more about macros and queries than I do!)

Plus, I got to relive my teens, with all the movies, and trends, and who is cool and who is not.A Whiz kid, he has been interning at this place, for almost a year now.And the best part - he acts his age.He doesnt try and do the "Oh look i am a Nerd, i am smarter than everyone else around" routine.(That one might notice in quite a few of the undergrad population here.)A pleasure to know, I am sure he will go places!!

Now coming to the good part. The Data center.Housed in the heart of downtown, the facility was built during the cold war years, and has many inbuilt security mechanisms, that make it convienient as a modern day data secure data storage center.This building also houses some federal agencies and hence follows all the homeland security standards - no parking around the building, strict IDing and so on.

Designed exactly for storage and processing purposes, each storey , is one and a half times that of a normal storey.Which means, that if you are looking out of the 6th storey, you will be at par with the 9th storey of the neighboring ones. So anyway,huge silos, robots, processors,tapes monstrous servers, and precise backup mechanisms - Impressive. Weather monitoring systems,huge SANs,emergency backup procedures,security audit procedures and power services - Awesome!

In all, a real good two hours on a Friday morning, to make up for a gussed Chicago trip , and a so-much-planned-but-not-much-happening weekend ahead.

So my baby is here!! She is the cutest thing ever!! Underweight, and comfortably light, you wont feel a thing carrying her. After lengthy deliberations, Dhruti is what she will be called.(Close contenders being Sudeshna,Pamela and Paravai muniyamma!!)

Optimism

Is it because the song is carnatic that I sat up and took notice? Maybe. But the the lyrics, are simply beautiful, the meter of the poetry blends so well with the song.

Ok thats it. There has been nothing else going on in my walking,eating,talking,sleeping,working mind since I started reading HP-6. And now its over. Thats it. I am tempted to discuss the book threadbare, but can't do so without revealing who dies in the end. So I wont.

It all started, one especially sultry Pilani afternoon, in my first year. We were doing this course called "Linguistics" I guess, or was it English Language Skills II ?? So anyway, we were required to do a book review. That was the time HP and the Goblet of Fire simply hogged all the publicity a book ever recieved. And my faithful wingie had an orginal copy of it. Just to see what the fuss was all about, I borrowed the humungous 600 or so page monster from her. Being the Bhawan's night season, there was very little time to devote to what seemed like kids fairy tales. I had Jumpha Lahiri's "Interpreter of Maladies" with me, just in case.

But as I turned page after page, I discovered it was pure delight, and there was nothing kiddish about it. It was about a young man, who feels, who thinks, who acts and makes mistakes. Is it an epic? Are the characters metaphoric? Is it like some modern day Mahabharatha, only with the names changed? I dont know, but I am sure it cast a spell on me. It soo fascinates me that people still let themselves feel good about something supernatural and magic.

I was soo lucky, like many of you who are reading this blog , to grow up reading and listening to Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tales, and of course the whole array of Indian folk tales, and Ramayan and Mahabharath. Later on, it was Noddy, and Big ears, and Enid Blyton's Magic Faraway Tree.These things fuelled my imagination, I used to live in a make believe world of goblins, and elves and princesses. Wow! How simple those days were! You pretended you were on this magic caravan that took you to all fantastic places, and you sailed on a magic carpet with the whole world beneath you!! It was far away from the world of ones and zeros, and deadlines, and phone bills and laundry headaches!!!

But I digress. the point here, is that this book is not a make believe world where everything is hunky dory at the flash of a wand. It is not about a Prince Charming who does these incredible deeds and wows a beautiful princess.(Infact there hasnt been any full-time princess so far!!) It is about a boy who fails in a few courses, gets detentions, plays pranks and enjoys stealthy adventures with his friends.It is school life, and fun and revolt too.(I still ROLF at Fred and George and how they wreaked havoc it Hogwarts!!)It is about the pain he endures, it is about how he tries to struggle, and yet remain human. Sometimes I think it is what Matrix-lovers feel about Matrix. Does the book itself have multiple layers of meaning and allegory? Does it convey more than a normal kids bedtime story does? Will it reinforce the one thing told over and over again through many, many tales worldover since the start of time - "The win of good over evil" ?? Will it tell people, instead, that "hope" is an illusion, and that in reality, cruel guys always win??Lets wait and watch.

I am going back to my temporary world - of talking potraits,Patronuses, and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes :)) Until the charm wears off atleast !!

The ride is scary and bumpy.I have been scared of roller coasters all my life. It is exhilarating when you see someone else on it. When you are aboard, I guess it is sweaty plams, and eyes closed shut in fear. Well, not always, too. I remember this one time, I went with a couple of my friends, on a giant wheel, when we were still in high school. Of course, it took a lot of coaxing and cajoling to get me go with them. The first few times, I thought I would fall off the giant wheel, into the busy street onto some nameless car.But then, slowly, I knew they were there for me, and were holding me tight, making sure I feel safe.I even dared to squint my eyes a wee bit, just to see how high we were.

The wheel went up, and way up, and then it stopped. "Open your eyes Sang, Look at the city, it is soo beautiful!!"

And I did.

The moment was beautiful. I inhaled deeply, and tried to take it all in at once. I tried to delude myself, that it would be like this forever. And then the roller coaster started falling. It was gut wrenching, yes, but I was so thankful I got through it, thanks to them. I was so happy I got a chance to ride.

(Years later)

PART II : Bungee trampoline ?? Seems very exciting, but that somersault mid-air might make me throw up .....

I am not into reading the "hot" list doing the rounds in libraries and NYtimes. I wanted to try this one because a couple of my friends seemed to think highly of it. The reviews said something about Afganistan,and dad- son stuff and the like. "Wow , what an intelligent way to make money!" I thought. Your have an Afgan born, American writer, who writes about Taliban, and human suffering pre and post 9/11, and the good old movie formula of some friendship, and dad-son senti and boom! There you go! You have the right formula to a superhit American novel. This was the usual cynic in me speaking.

After reading this one, I knew one thing. The reviews did no justice to the book at all. They tell you what is written, not how it is written.There are very few books , which deal with emotions and feelings without getting icky-sticky and mushy. There are very few books which make you feel good about having feelings at all. Books that say "Hey wait a minute, this does not need to be a clinical research paper on symbology or anthropology, and you can still like it."A book that says "Hey,this is not a maudlin, tearjerker that you can forget your brains at work to read, and you can still relate to it."

The Kite Runner, is about an intensely personal account of a rich Afgan boy, who later migrates to the US.The political uncertainity , and fundamentalism in Afganisthan, is gently draped around, and peeks through their lives, unobtrusively - not too loud, not too judgemental.It is not Ayn Rand - It does not lash out against ethnic cleansing, it does not push any high flown democracy down your throat. It is not Daniel steele either - It doesnt eulogize the Dad-Son bond.

The one thing that crossed my mind repeatedly as I was reading the book was - "Ok now, something is disturbingly familiar about this book." When I reached the climax, I was able to place it. It was around my fifth standard. My annual exam, and I refused to put down "Swami and friends". At the end of it I cried. This book brings in me the same feeling I get when I read any R.K Narayan. So simple, yet so powerful.

The story revolves around the rich,spoilt, meek protagonist, his dad and his best friend - his man servant. These are everyday human beings, make choices, and live with the choices they make. The choices they make have powerful, and everlasting influence in their lives, in a war-torn country with scant respect for human lives. What is refreshing about the book, is also the fact that the hero is fallible. He does not simply do the "right" thing everytime. He is a silent spectator to injustice. He runs away to another land, and turns a blind eye. He almost lets go of his only chance to do away with his guilt. And then slowly, and gradually , he deals with the ghosts of his past and finds happiness.

In all , a welcome break from the insipid murder mysteries, which , I guess I have finally grown out of. A must read too.

Summer time is finally here. And yes, with the sun beating down mercilessly, the vacation has formally begun. Not having to worry about unreasonable profs and unsurmountable assignments is making me very,very happy.(I just discovered I have a weird way of constructing sentences. I could have well said, " I dont have to worry about profs and assignments, and hence I am happy". But whatever!)


I ride the Metro everyday.The bus route itself, is a pretty interesting one. It traverses a chunk of of Cincinnati's most notorious Vine Street.I travel with a wide variety of people.Conjuring up vivid images of these people's personalities makes up for an otherwise boring ride.Maybe I should start writing a "Metro-logue" to keep track of my encounters with the Metro-kind.


Downtown Cincinnati might not compare to Manhattan by any standards, but I have totally fallen in love with it. A few sprawling skyscrapers(if one could call it that!) interspersed with an array of Malls, banks, hotels - The fountain square and The Great American Ballpark, this place is just so beautiful.Especially if you are standing on the Kentucky side, and gazing accross the Ohio river to see the downtown on a clear, cloudless night.Arts centers,a well connected bus system,novel, themed restraunts,and wide variety of international cusines to dine from - A cozy Midwestern City suits me fine for now, thank you very much.


Well, in other news,my last week was too awesome.Too many movies, books, hanging out, eating food, a visit to the Dayton temple and Panegyri 2005- I am having a ball out here!


Next on my long "To-Cook" list - Gyros and Baklava !!!!Yummm !!!

Oh and Btw,

I fell.

I fell real hard.

I mean toppled. Like tripped and fell.(Something like "head over heels", if you can imagine that!!).

I am not exactly Miss.Dainty in general, but this week, I was on a roll!! The highlight was when me and my manager were walking down 5th street , when I fell bang in the middle of the road. It was an awkard moment for both of us, to say the least.Dusting myself off, I had to come up with some wisecrack to save the situation.Ouch! The knees still hurt!I really have to work on that gait, especially with the high heels now!!

I ve never been a huge fan of forwards or chain mails that make you scroll down through pages and pages of (Infy/Wipro/TCS/Satyam) addresses,insane signatures,and crazy emoticons that by the time you get to the material you are all worn out. Not to be outdone, the forwards themselves have you answer some seemingly brilliant psychology quiz ,along the lines of "Which do you like, cat or lion"(Imagine how many bytes of rubbish data you make those poor dialup modems transmit and the gazillions of money being spent on research to find the optimum way to transmit these bytes !!!) and just when you have raked all your brains and answered it , you are further thrown down to pages of "Keep scrolling to find the answer". The verdict is out even before you emerge out at the other end of the scroll .You just made a fool of yourself.

So anyway, there is this new tagging spree attacking the blogdom. It is nice to see a lot of people write about the same things, and you get a real good idea of how different people answer the same questions.But, would you rather blog about things that you feel relevant to find a space in your blog, than filling out a global slambook, if you will??On the other hand, is it some sort of an orkut-like, "Look I ve been tagged too" thing? But, isnt it also some sort of an indication of camaraderie among fellow bloggers? I don't know the answer to all this , but I am going to try and do it this once.

Tagged by : Kaushik

Total Number of Books I Own: Well, I dont even keep track of the number of T shirts I own , so I dont know the answer to this one. I am not an avid book collector, but I would like to own a huge collection of books one day.

Last Book I bought: Code to Zero

Last Book I was gifted: I dont know why, but my friends have not been huge fans of book gifting!!

Last Book I gifted : Phdcomics !! (Huge fan!!)

Last Book I read: "Introduction to Wireless and Mobile Systems" :))

I am currently reading: "Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown ( Yes, its been beside my bedside for too long now, blame it all on Indy GP!!)

Well, thats a difficult question, I can recollect quite a few from my childhood days though. After a point I guess you become too cynical to appreciate good books :) So, in no particular order :

(And no, that list is NOT, in anyway, indicative of the genre of books I usually read!!And No, "Fountainhead" does NOT find a place in this list, compelling as the book is :) )

Thanks for reading !!! Long live bookworms !!

Given up.Going to sleep now.

Today is a strong contender for the "Worst Day Ever" contest.

Shall write no more about today.

There will be other types of days, hopefully.