Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Hi Handsome!!!!!


Mard bankar ladkiyon wali fairness cream??

Fair and handsome try kiya??

Hi handsome...Hi handsome!!!!


If any of you out there have missed this gem of an advertisement, I suggest that you sit in front of the TV and tune into any of Star plus, Zee or Sony and watch it continuously for Atleast 2 and three quarters of an hour. You’ll surely be grateful to me.

For those of you who have been fortunate enough to see this ad, haven’t you all wondered on who might be stupid enough to actually but a tube of this ridiculous product. Ah well, so did i.

So you can easily imagine my surprise, or shall we call it shock, when I find one lovely little tube resting on my dressing table. I was aghast!! I pinched myself and hit my head against the wall to make sure I t was not a dream. The big red bump on my forehead says it isn’t!.

And guess who spent hard earned money on this ludicrous piece of horse crap!! My very own blood brother. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He has become quite fashion savvy after moving into Chennai, but I never expected him to droop to this extent!!! I tried explaining to him the meaning of the phrase “tall,dark and handsome”, but bozo that he is, he just wouldn’t listen.


Ah well, what more can a sister do? I decided to just shut up, blog about it, and make the the laughing stock of the whole world  :)

Saturday, June 10, 2006

The Answer to the Ultimate Questions of Life, the Universe and Everything


At last I managed to finish “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy”. And did I love it or what.

Started off reading it as an e-book, but had to discontinue as my right shoulder didn’t quite enjoy the whole experience. Anyways, got the hard copy from a friend and managed to finish the 776 pages in just over 9 days.

And did I say that I loved it. One of the most hilarious books I have read, for sure. And a must-read for any book lover.

Below is an excerpt from the book:


”"Hello," said the elevator sweetly, "I am to be your elevator for this trip to the floor of your choice. I have been designed by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation to take you, the visitor to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, into these their offices. If you enjoy your ride, which will be swift and pleasurable, then you may care to experience some of the other elevators which have recently been installed in the offices of the Galactic tax department, Boobiloo Baby Foods and the Sirian State Mental Hospital, where many ex-Sirius Cybernetics Corporation executives will be delighted to welcome your visits, sympathy, and happy tales of the outside world."

"Yeah," said Zaphod, stepping into it, "what else do you do besides talk?"

"I go up," said the elevator, "or down."

"Good," said Zaphod, "We're going up."

"Or down," the elevator reminded him.

"Yeah, OK, up please."

There was a moment of silence.

"Down's very nice," suggested the elevator hopefully.

"Oh yeah?"

"Super."

"Good," said Zaphod, "Now will you take us up?"

"May I ask you," inquired the elevator in its sweetest, most reasonable voice, "if you've considered all the possibilities that down might offer you?"

Zaphod knocked one of his heads against the inside wall. He didn't need this, he thought to himself, this of all things he had no need of. He hadn't asked to be here. If he was asked at this moment where he would like to be he would probably have said he would like to be lying on the beach with at least fifty beautiful women and a small team of experts working out new ways they could be nice to him, which was his usual reply. To this he would probably have added something passionate on the subject of food.

One thing he didn't want to be doing was chasing after the man who ruled the Universe, who was only doing a job which he might as well keep at, because if it wasn't him it would only be someone else. Most of all he didn't want to be standing in an office block arguing with an elevator.

"Like what other possibilities?" he asked wearily.

"Well," the voice trickled on like honey on biscuits, "there's the basement, the microfiles, the heating system... er..."

It paused.

"Nothing particularly exciting," it admitted, "but they are alternatives."

"Holy Zarquon," muttered Zaphod, "did I ask for an existentialist elevator?" he beat his fists against the wall.

"What's the matter with the thing?" he spat.

"It doesn't want to go up," said Marvin simply, "I think it's afraid."

"Afraid?" cried Zaphod, "Of what? Heights? An elevator that's afraid of heights?"

"No," said the elevator miserably, "of the future..."

"The future?" exclaimed Zaphod, "What does the wretched thing want, a pension scheme?"

At that moment a commotion broke out in the reception hall behind them. From the walls around them came the sound of suddenly active machinery.

"We can all see into the future," whispered the elevator in what sounded like terror, "it's part of our programming."

Zaphod looked out of the elevator-an agitated crowd had gathered round the elevator area, pointing and shouting.

Every elevator in the building was coming down, very fast.

He ducked back in.

"Marvin," he said, "just get this elevator go up will you? We've got to get to Zarniwoop."

"Why?" asked Marvin dolefully.

"I don't know," said Zaphod, "but when I find him, he'd better have a very good reason for me wanting to see him."

Modern elevators are strange and complex entities. The ancient electric winch and "maximum-capacity-eight-persons" jobs bear as much relation to a Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter as a packet of mixed nuts does to the entire west wing of the Sirian State Mental Hospital.

This is because they operate on the curios principle of "defocused temporal perception". In other words they have the capacity to see dimly into the immediate future, which enables the elevator to be on the right floor to pick you up even before you knew you wanted it, thus eliminating all the tedious chatting, relaxing, and making friends that people were previously forced to do whist waiting for elevators.

Not unnaturally, many elevators imbued with intelligence and precognition became terribly frustrated with the mindless business of going up and down, up and down, experimented briefly with the notion of going sideways, as a sort of existential protest, demanded participation in the decision-making process and finally took to squatting in basements sulking.

An impoverished hitch-hiker visiting any planets in the Sirius star system these days can pick up easy money working as a counsellor for neurotic elevators.

At the fifteenth floor the elevator doors opened quickly.

"Fifteenth," said the elevator, "and remember, I'm only doing this because I like your robot."





So rush to the nearest book store and get your own copy of the book. And if you are running low on Vitamin M, leave a comment with your e-mail id, and i shall post the e-book(Just hope your shoulders aren't as dysfunctional as mine)

P.S. And if you are wondering what "42" is all about, well, thats the answer to the ultimate questions of the life, the universe and everything. Honest! Swear on you. Even google agrees. Try if you still don't believe...

Friday, June 09, 2006

Crappy Conversations

Uncle giving career advice to a bunch of us:

Uncle: You should all do something innovative!! Research is the in-thing now. Have you ever wondered why there is only Microsoft??? Think big!! Think Macrosoft..

Me: Wow, that’s great!! How about Macrohard though. Sounds more macho na




Brat in the building, standing near his car, looking at the side-view mirror, digging his nose. Spots me looking at him

He: what?

Me: what?


(That’s it!! End of conversation. I went my way and he went about digging further for the elusive gold in his left nostril)




Me and aunt talking about how she is close only to a few of the teachers in her school.

Aunt: I am in touch only with a few of them.

Me: (Touch her and say) Oh, in touch, with only a few of them huh.

Aunt: Podi, not touching touch, I meant lips touch.

Me: Eh??? Ohmigosh!!! What’s happening to teachers these days? Control pliss.

Aunt: Chi, podi. You always confuse me like this. I meant talking

Me: Thank heavens! For a second I thought the brokeback effect had permeated to the portals of your school as well.




My brothers S and P, vetti lot that they are, have one favorite pastime, name-calling. Looks like they had tired of calling each other idiot, porcupine, nincompoop, Neanderthal et al.. So they moved over from the animal kingdom to Geography instead.

S: Mulund
P: Andheri
S: Andheri west
P: Andheri east
S: Dadar
P: Kachiguda
S: Abids
P: Koti
S: Yerragadda
P: Pudupetai
S: Kodambakkam
P: Chetpet
S: Kilpak
Me: SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!


Ahem, yes. They were calling each other names of localities. (And for all those whose sense of localities sucks, they covered a few each in Mumbai, Hyderabad and Chennai)




Me taking tuitions for a kid in the building. 5th std. I was explaining to her about how high eagles fly.

Kid: Didi, how far up will the eagles fly?

Me: Very very high!!

Kid: Above aeroplanes also?

Me: Hmm.Ya I think.

Kid: Near clouds??

Me: Yaa

Kid: Near Heaven??

Me: (clear throat) Well, now I am the wrong person to ask such a question you see. But since I am being paid to answer your question, here goes. Now tell me kiddo, have you heard of agnostics? I presume not. Well, we are basically neither theists nor atheists. We just don’t know for sure whether god exists, as it has not yet been proven beyond reasonable doubt. Ergo, the presence of his holy abode is also very much a doubt. It might be up there, or it might be in the small hole in the tree in your backyard. Who knows! So an eagle might or might not fly near heaven, depending on whether it is located in the small hole in the tree in your back yard! Our god is just the invisible pink unicorn. And our god doesn’t live in heaven. It lives in the little hole in the peepul tree in my backyard.

Kid: Eh???

Me: Maybe you should read the article on Agnosticism in my blog. Things will be a lot more lucid.

Kid: (Demurely) Ok didi





Just as I am trying to doze off one night, ma comes up to me and asks me what I want my IDEAL GUY to be like. I protest and tell her I am too sleepy. She forces me for an answer. I consent and give her a loooong list of should have’s and shouldn’t have’s. And finally for her sake, add that he should preferably be a Pallakad Iyer.

Ma: Chee, why you want all that?

I: (Shocked at the absolute distaste with which she addressed my last requirement) But I added that for your sake ma!

Ma: Ohh. But even then, why all this. And one more thing, maybe you could put up the list on your blog and invite proposals. Atleast one good use that blog will come to.

I: (speechless)

Ma: Nice idea Na. Makes my job a lot easy.

I: For god’s sake, I am 19. It’s criminal!!!

Ma: You are 19 and three quarters. And the legal marriageable age for girls is 18. So don’t say it’s criminal and all

I: Bachaoooooo!!!!!


Friday, June 02, 2006

The last time ever i saw my hips

At the outset, let me clarify all doubts that might have risen in your minds on reading the title. Well, I can still see my hips.

Well, this is my first post for which i am writing a post based on the title instead of the others in which the title is based on the post. So here goes...

Had gone out with cousins and uncle yesterday for dinner. A place called Eden. Nice decor!!!

Anyhow, we ordered the usual starters and main course. Dinner as such was pretty uneventful. Except in the end when uncle saw that we had finished almost everything except the butter paneer dish. He asked us to finish it off, but we desisted because there was no roti to have it with. But so great was his dislike for wasting food that he served the remaining paneer to all of us. Even though he was the only one who actually ate it!!! The waiter did have a tough time maintaining a straight face when he came to clear the table, and saw 3 pieces of paneer on each of our plates :-)

Anyhow, it was time to order dessert. I quickly glanced thru the menu, past the usual milkshakes and fruit salads and double sundaes AND THEN my eyes landed on IT!!! Now, i thought, thats quite an unusual name for a dessert. Yesssir, it was called "The Last Time Ever I Saw My Hips". And did it sound delicious or what!! 2 scoops of chocolate ice cream, 1 scoop of vanilla ice cream, one chocolate brownie, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, nuts, pistachios and a cherry to top it all. Aah!!!

And so i took one last loving glance at my hips, bid them a fond farewell, and dug into this delicacy, finished it in a record time of two minutes and forty seven seconds, took another glance at where my hips were last seen. And thank heavens!!!They still were there ;-)

Hence the title and hence the post...And though i didn't take a camera to the restaurant, here is a pic i got from google, that slightly resembles what i have been drooling over in this post. I reiterate, SLIGHTLY!! The actual one is about seventy six timmes yummier looking..



P.S. Talking about wierd names for dishes, pliss do check out the menu at Eatalica. the only place where you get to eat Monica Chewinnsky, Leonardo Di Chaprio, Halle Cherry, Keanu Cheese et al..

Monday, May 29, 2006

Teri Ishq mein meri jaan, Fanaa ho jaye


Warning: Blogger in highly infatuated state of mind while typing this out. Pliss to expect a lot of Ooohs, Aaahs and drool…


Aaaaaaaah!!!!!! I am in love….And yes, you guessed right... Aamir is the man of my dreams at the moment…And shall retain the position until I recover from my post- Fanaa hangover. Till then, let’s continue drooling on him.

Once in every ten years, there comes out a Bollywood movie that you fall in love with and that makes you want to fall in love. Last we had was DDLJ. And now we have Fanaa. To say that I was all moony- eyed after watching the movie, would be quite an understatement. I was sighing throughout the movie and for an hour after it as well... And even now, though, thank heavens; it is a lot more sporadic.

A quick recap: Blind Kashmiri girl goes to Delhi for Republic Day Celebrations. Meets SEXY tour guide. Lots of sher-o-shayiri thrown in. They fall in love. Do it!!! Girl recovers sight. But boy disappears and is suspected to be killed in the terrorist attack that he, in fact, had master-minded. Flash forward seven years. Sexy tourist guy is now army officer in disguise. On MI-4. Is identified, pursued and ends up at not-blind-anymore girl’s doorstep. Discovers that he has an ooh-cho-chweet seven year old son. Girl recognizes boy eventually and they duly legalize their relationship by performing the nikaah. Girl’s dad discovers he is terrorist and threatens him but dies accidentally. Girl also discovers and the rest, I shall not spoil for you. Find out for yourself.


Now, if you were to be cruel enough to dissect each and every part of the movie, then it might not exactly live up to the hype I have created. But as a whole, a very pleasant watch. Especially after the last movie I saw in the theatre (36, china town- 24*7 I hate the movie!!!), Fanaa was manna from heaven. (Hey that kinda rhymes).

The songs were pretty good too. And the kid was such a cutie-pie. What wouldn’t I do to have a husband like Aamir and a son like that kid...Awww…And ya, all the supporting artistes were pretty convincing as well. All in all, worth watching. So unless you are unfortunate enough to be a resident of Gujarat, go ahead and have fun with “Funaa”!!!


P.S. I have decided to go sight-seeing in Delhi, with the bleak hope that I get to meet a cute tour guide!!!

P.P.S. Just realized that I appear to be a love-struck teen in the above post. Ahem..Not to worry. Have returned to my original sane state of mind after typing this out. Guess I needed to flush all the gush out of my system

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

(T)HE-MAN CHIDAMBARAM (Guest Blog)

Hey people,for all those who have turned up to see yet another 'crisp as a cracker' article or a 'sweet as candy' poem from madam shils' desk,this is sure to be a disappointment for it doesnt come from the creator of this blog herself.She successfully lured me,Abishek , a Loyolite, into guest blogging for her after casually reading this article of mine.Don't know if i would do justice to her calibre and class though this one of my favourites.This is how it goes:

(T)HE – MAN CHIDAMBARAM ("give me the power")



P.CHIDAMBARAM, the union finance minister has always caught my attention for reasons more subtle than obvious, especially his personality traits. People, more often than not relate him to presenting budgets, analyzing economic growth, considering the plight of agriculturists, monitoring industrial development and most importantly regulating the nationalized banks and their functioning, I really don’t blame these people for “CHIDS”, like how I would want to call him, being at the helm of the financial affairs of the country is known for his financial brain.

Usually known for his budgets that are characteristically safe and generally effective improvisations over the previous ones with a few additional provisions tailored to meet the needs of the country and aimed at targeting the growing industry in the economy. The cash withdrawal tax that was included in the budget for 2004-05,received critical acclaim when it was initially imposed but has been able to detect a few cases of black money being withdrawn at will, as witnessed by the bank in Chandni Chowk.

But for a man from Harvard to be well versed in numbers or for that matter efficient in managing resources or formulating budgets or even the language that he possesses isn’t really extravagant for those who hail from the Harvard generally tend to be a part of an elite group of people who stand out and get themselves counted with ease. The managerial or financial qualities or attributes probably stem from the intellectual atmosphere out of the top draw at the Harvard. One of the most sought after Universities in the world should be proud to have produced a man as masterful as Mr.Chidambaram

However it really isn’t these aspects of the man that stir me from within. What strikes me hard, what makes me look up to him is his aura, charisma, poise, patience, simplicity, cool as a cucumber attitude, his aggressive intent which so beautifully manifests itself in a courteous, polite and ever so convincing approach and tactful way of putting things across.

First and foremost, a man who’s spent a good part of his life as a student abroad and that too in Harvard, my dream destination, more often than not is clad in his traditional, ever so characteristic white dhoti and white shirt. Not only does it reflect on his respect for the tradition but also his simplicity. For instance, the parliamentary sessions when he presents the annual budgets reinforce the tranquility of the man and his uncanny knack of keeping this under control. The precision with which he presents the budget is admirable. The steady pace which he follows when he reads his provisions and estimates in the budget, his clarity of pronunciation, the simple unassuming look on his face with a smile ready to break out at the corner of his lips are characteristic or typical to Mr.Chidambaram at the Parliament. His focus and concentration are simply unparalleled. But really a stand out is the way he reacts to opposition or unwarranted claims against any provision in the budget. All he does is to put his hand up in the air and tell them to give him a chance to complete and that he would then give their grievances and claims a fair hearing, with the minimum of fuss or unrest.

When you find Ministers at the State Assembly or even at the Parliament getting agitated or reacting wildly to comments or opposition shaping out strongly against them, CHIDS's approach towards the trouble creators is without much doubt conspicuous. A good example of one who adds to the confusion is Mr.Laloo Prasad Yadav, the Railway Minister is generally ferocious and unwilling to compromise and even does not refrain from telling the speaker “Jaane dijiye unko” ,that is, just allow those who are not satisfied with my budget to leave the place. Such an act from Mr.Chidambaram would be far from a miracle. CHIDS proves to be an absolute gentleman not only in his behavior but also in his outlook as well.

Recently, during his campaign for DMK, the Congress alliance, the Finance Minister was in full flow in Tamil. Need I say that it was a delight to see the man in uninterrupted flow of Tamil to reach out to the masses. It was quite astonishing for me to see him converse with such ease in Tamil and also feel so much at home with it because he definitely would not have much time to talk in his mother tongue, being at the helm of affairs in New Delhi, where his Hindi speaking ability would hold him in good stead rather than his very own Tamil. Many people would say it isn’t a Herculean task to talk in your mother tongue even without much practice. I do agree with it but then to use it to good effect, select the right words, make it sound convincing, simplify the language to the level that can be easily understood by the illiterate and impoverished masses yet keeping intact the purity of the language without compromising on the use of ever so pure words, one definitely needs skill. Thus, the man well versed in English is a revelation in Tamil as well


Even while he was campaigning he seldom raised his voice beyond his characteristically prescribed decibel levels. His poise and composure was very much evident through the course of his speech. He looked like a man with a mission. We often witness political party leaders pumped up, literally shouting on the mike, as aggressive as possible with their speech and their animated gestures and actions almost give the impression that they would assault the opposition so badly that they would never oppose them again. Belligerence is the order of the day for these politicians.

In total contrast to this, Mr.Chidambaram was as polite as possible with emotional outbursts almost missing. All he did was to just state the facts against the then Chief Minister and her carefree approach towards the senior politicians, the government servants and even the Union government. He threw light on how ruthless she was with her attitude leading to haphazard action. CHIDS was simply professional and did not let down his gentleman image even while campaigning.

I do know that the man is subject to criticism and has his own share of it. His wife and son always seem to be in the limelight for all the wrong reasons. Some people do say Mr.Chidambaram himself is just a high-class suave gentleman with all the unscrupulous ingredients, which make a politician. But I personally find it difficult to digest this for he has never given me such an impression.
TAKE A BOW CHIDS

-abhi

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

How shilpa Krishnan Bought it, Read it and Blogged about it


Finally, I got to read the much hyped book by Kaavya Viswanathan. Appa managed to buy a pirated edition from one of the pavement sellers at Moore Market. So that way, if people accused me of supporting plagiarism, I could always say that I was just providing a poor pavement seller his next meal. Now of course, we could get into a full-on argument about piracy et al. But what the heck! When the authors are making billions over their book deals, I don’t find it very wrong that a poor but enterprising Indian tries to take advantage of the situation. And moreover, I don’t like having to fork out four hundred bucks for a book when I can get it for fifty. Well, the title on the cover was misspelled (How Opal Meht Got Kiss Got Wild and Got a Life). But the insides were indeed well pirated (if that is the right word!).

Firstly, lets talk about the plot (At the risk of reiterating what most of you already know). Opal Mehta is an Indian living in New Jersey. From the moment she breathed her first in this world, her parents carefully drafted out a super plan called HOWGIH (How Opal Will Get Into Harvard). So here’s this poor little girl trying to fit cello classes, Spanish, Chinese, French and some other foreign language classes, volunteering at the local old-age home, keeping up with all the school work, editing the school paper, managing her duties as the vice president of the student council, and a whole lot of other things in just 24 hours. So in other words, she doesn’t have a life. Just an existence.

And so when her interviewer in Harvard asks her what she likes to do for fun, she (who hath memorized all the word lists in Barrons) is left speechless. And how do her parents solve this problem of hers. Well, ofcourse with another super foolproof plan – HOWGAL (How Opal Will Get A Life). The three main goals of this plan being to get into the coolest gang in school, to get kissed and to get wild. How this plan is put into action, and the hilarious consequences form the rest of the story.

It’s nothing too deep or profound a book. Just a breezy read which can be finished in a sitting or two. So now let us address the main issue in hand. The whole plagiarism fiasco. Though I couldn’t lay my hands on the other two books she is supposed to have “internalized” from, I did read the passages in a leading weekly magazines. Well, there definitely are quite a few similarities between the passages in question. But what I don’t understand is why such a huge fuss is being made about the whole thing. It’s not like she copied an entire plot or sub plot! Just a few inane sentences here and there. And I do believe her when she says it’s unintentional. Sometimes what you read remains in your sub-conscious and when you happen to write it down, you are very likely to believe that it is original.

And why is only Kaavya being targeted. Mustn’t we even target all this pseudo-music directors we have out here. Shouldn’t we be asking Anu Mallik to pull out all his cassettes and cd’s from the shops considering that none of his successful compositions are originals. And A.R.Rehamn. Now, I am a huge fan of his work, but he is as guilty of plagiarism as is Kaavya Viswanthan. Agreed, these directors must have changed the music a bit by adding an extra guitarist or removing a banjo player. But neither did Miss. Viswanathan copy verbatim from the books in question.

So why is only this poor teenage girl being targeted? Why is the media so intent on subjecting her to such mental torture? Why are they not satisfied when she has apologized publicly and agreed to edit the contentious parts? Why does this whole inconsequential controversy have to occupy centre page in all leading dailies? Why can’t Opal Mehta just kiss a boy without having to worry whether the way she kisses him might be similar to the way someone else kissed in some other novel? Why, oh why???????

Friday, April 07, 2006

Taaja Khabar

Each of us, at one time or another, have heard of the saying "An eye for an eye".But here is a practical demo. Well, not exactly, but almost!

Guess we ought to leave the "A tooth for a tooth" bit to the dentists.

Meanwhile, there are many ways to vent your frustration when you have not been granted the leave you requested for. But should you go this far?

What if the students of today drew inspiration from our "daring" jawans? Guess we would have a lot less teachers and almost no principals at all!!

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Kuch to hua hai

Kuch to hua hai
Kuch ho gaya hai
Do char din se
Lagta hai jaise
Blog mein likhne ko
Kuch bhi nahin hai
Kuch to hua hai
Kuch hooo gaya hai


Yes, you guesed right. me suffering from “Blogger’s Block”. Rack my brains I for something to write on, but they fail me. So I suggest that you kindly check the other blogs on my blogroll. And if you want to laugh out loud, GreatBong is a must read. My personal favourite he is.

moreover, if you have any ideas for me, please to leave a comment about the same.

And I shall be signing off with an original PJ of mine.

“Q: Why did Mr.X take a hammer to a party in which most of the people were strangers to him?

A: To break the ice :-)”

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Four things


Four jobs I've had:


1. My first summer job promoting Britannia’s Malai Chaska along with Archi. Just three days of work but a whole lot of fun.
2. My second summer job promoting Acuvue Contact lens. Lasted a month. Used to sit on the steps and gossip for hours with Serena. Hardly did any work. But managed to procure a pair of contact lens for free.
3. A one month internship in ING Vysya along with Pavi. Again, very little work. Would go spend a couple of hours in the allotted cabin. the people out there were quite friendly and would entertain us by showing us all the forwards in their inbox, playing the choicest of music and offering us chai coffee at periodic intervals. We went to office only for 16days and that too, only for a couple of hours each day.
4. All the little things I do for amma in the kitchen.

Four movies I could watch over & over:

1. The LOTR series
2. The Odd Couple 2
3. Alai Payuthe/Saathiya
4. The Sound of Music

And can’t help mentioning this, but the movie I have seen the most number of times is J.Lo’s “Wedding Planner”. One movie that I love to hate but inevitably watch every time it is aired on Zee Movies.

Four places I’ve lived:

1. Chennai
2. Hyderabad
3. TPG
4. Vizag


Four places you've been on vacation:


1. Shillong and some other parts of the North east
2. Musorie, Nainital and Delhi on a school trip
3. Kerala, puthucode, my hometown to be precise
4. Pune

Four websites I visit daily

1. My two email accounts
2. My blog
3. Google
4. The other blogs on my blogroll

Four things I say quite often:


1. Mast (yup sweths, got it from u only)
2. whattu
3. Shaniyane
4. Bloody

Four Random Facts about me

1. I am an agnostic
2. I plan to kill myself when I turn 65
3. I love nature
4. I would like to become a politician someday

Four things I love most

1. family
2. friends
3. Books
4. kids

Four things that scare me most


1. cockroaches and other creepy insects
2. one of my uncle’s
3. a life without books
4. riding pillion when someone is driving real fast and rash


Four bloggers to pass it on to: 1)Swat 2)Nivi 3)Ganesh 4)Naveen

Thursday, March 23, 2006

The return of the poetess

Well, this was my very first poem. Entered a poetry competition back in junior college just for the heck of it. The topic was "Peace". This was my entry. Never thought i would even get a consolation. Imagine my surprise when i was adjudged First!!!!

Anyway, here goes:


WAR AND PEACE


All is fair in love and war
Oft I heard that said
But what is fair in war
To think of that, I dread

Children crying, innocents dying
Widows weeping, mothers sobbing
Poor little souls-all mourning
Politicians laughing, commoners suffering


War – ‘tis nothing but a mean game
Which ought to put the politicians to shame
Bloodshed – ‘tis but a waste of blood
Which results in an overflow of tears - a flood


I wish one day would come a bird
A white dove, full of love
And show the way to every man
That murder is not all that he can




--Shilpa Krishnan

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Bring home the bookworm

Total Number of Books I Own:

Am not planning to go down to the garage, open the dusty trunk, and take a manual count of my collection. All I have to offer is a calculated guess. Must be ranging from 300-400. This of course includes all the tinkle digests and Amar Chitra Kathas
.
Last Book I Bought:

Dad buys most of the time. Last book I bought was “Kane and Abel” as a B-day gift for S.

Last Book I Read:

“Sex, Scotch and Scholarship” by Khushwant Singh. A collection of some of his best writings. He is one of my all- time favorite writers. Love his “With malice towards one and all” columns.

Currently reading:


“The Great Indian Novel” by Shashi Tharoor. A spoof of Mahabharata set in the late 1800’s and 1900’s, a marriage of Indian mythology and the Independence movement. Quite funny. A definite must-read.

Five Books That Mean a Lot to Me:

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. First time I read it, I didn’t quite understand parts of it. The second time I read it, I fell in love with it. The third time I read it, I swore I would one day create a time-machine, and go back in time just to meet Howard Roark.

Razor’s Edge by Somerset Maugham. One book that has changed my life for the better.

The Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling (mainly the last two and the first four)

Kane and Abel by Jeffrey Archer. An epic novel about the lives of two great men. Superb narrative. Love the sequels to this book as well.

Anne of Green Gables by L.M.Montgomery. Got this one as a prize for standing third in an essay writing competition at school. Grew to admire this little, talkative orphan. Read the book a dozen times. Lent it to someone who failed to return it. Cursed that person to damnation. Please take heart and buy me this book, will ya.


Other books, of course:

A Time to Kill and The Chambers by Grisham,
Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less by Archer
Animal Farm by George Orwell
Truth, Love and a little malice by Khushwant Singh
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
Roald Dahl’s short stories
Amar Chitra Katha series
Five find outers series of Enid Blyton
Mallory Towers series of Blyton again
A Tiger for Malgudi by R.K.Narayanan
Animal Farm by Gerald Darrell
The Wodehouse collections esp. Jeeves
The Day of the Jackal by Frederick Forsyth
The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh
Most of Erich Segal’s books except for Oliver’s story.
Angels and Demons & The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

My All Time Favorite Characters:

Howard Roark: Of “The Fountainhead” fame. Hasn’t everyone who has read the book fallen in love with him. The ideal man.

Larry Darrell: The protagonist of “Razor’s Edge” by Somerset Maugham. A man on a journey of self-discovery. Can relate to him very easily.

Swami: From Malgudi days. If I have a son, I would want one like him. He’s adorable. The actor in the TV series adaptation does full justice.

The Weasley twins: Fred and George are my favourites in the HP series. Wish it featured more of their adventures and less of the trio’s.

Hercule Poirot: The egg-headed Belgian might not be easy on the eye but he makes one helluva interesting read.

Rhett Butler: The only man who could put Ms. O’Hara in the right place. You can’t help but like his spunk.


A Book that Didn't Mean Squat to Me:

“God of Small Things” by Arundhati Roy. I was all excited to finally lay my hands on the much-acclaimed novel, but it proved to be a damp squib. Definitely, the most over-rated book ever. Ms. Roy should instead have considered manufacturing Banana chips. God alone knows why she got the Booker.


I tag S , G , N

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

To be or not to be...

Come March, and it is not just the hot Indian summers that greet you. Apart from green mangoes, March is also the season of exams. From final examinations to entrance examinations, the young nubile mind is put through a tiresome series of mind boggling tests. And finally, one is asked to choose from various options. Engineering, medicine, commerce, literature, economics, legal studies, hotel management, pure science, the list is endless.

“So what do you want to become when you grow up?” Now this may seem like a harmless question, but every time it is posed to me, it gives me the jitters. Yes, I am nearing 20 and I still don’t know what I want to become. I am generally quite quick at making up my mind on most issues, but this particular one has proven to be a tough nut to crack. I have played with a lot of ideas and below is the list of career
options I have considered at one time or the other


• Ice-cream wallah: Every child’s fantasy. Mine as well. So at the age of five, if anyone asked me what I wanted to become, I had the answer on the tip of my tongue. However, I began to see the cons of this job. You don’t really get to eat all the ice-cream you want, you have to cycle around all day under the hot Sun and you have to watch at the other kids eating your ice-creams, while you stood there with a watering mouth.

• Engine driver: Yet another childhood fantasy that remained unfulfilled. One trip to the engine was enough to convince me that I did not want to work 24*7 in a hot, steaming furnace covered in grime and soot.

• Teacher: My mother continues to tell me that I will end up as one. Considering the fact that I was born on Teacher’s day, this is quite a possibility. But I have seen the hell that most teachers go through and I am not sure I am quite capable of controlling the unruly kids of these days.

• Detective: Now, these were the days when my diet consisted chiefly of detective novels and more detective novels. So little wonder that I imagined myself as a Nancy Drew in the making.

• Forensic Investigator: Having graduated from the Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys and Agatha Christie’s, I ventured into the realm of modern day science detectives with the ilk of Robin Cook’s and Robert Ludlum’s. I was quite fascinated by the many ingenuous methods of detecting and considered it a worthy career option.

• Marine biologist: Discovery and National Geographic channel opened up whole new vistas of the marine life and I thought it would be quite fun living in the ocean for a larger part of the year.

• Microbiologist: Heard this name in the passing and thought it sounded quite fancy. Considered it for that reason alone.

• Writer: Somewhere down the line, I realized that even I could write. A little further down the line, realized that nobody wanted to read what I wrote. So I wisely blamed it on a prolonged writer’s block and gave up for good. But by the time I turn 80, plan to come out with an autobiography. meanwhile, am planning to equip myself with a degree in literature.

• Lawyer: John Grisham fascinated me and since I loved to argue, I thought this would be an ideal profession for me. One of the only options that I seriously considered and attempted as well. Sadly, missed NALSAR by a meager 10 marks. That was the end of my legal career.

• Journalist: Though am not that great with the words, this sounds like one of the professions that would really interest me. Still considering it.

• Social Activist/Worker: Feel quite strongly about quite a few causes and sure do want to make some changes in this society. Another option I still am considering.

• Civil services: Am tired about people cribbing about how the country is run. Why the heck don’t they try and change things. Well, me sure planning to give it a shot.

• Politician: Might sound quite disinterested in politics but this is one career option I wish to pursue in the later years of my life. So 40 years down the line, if you hear of a politician called Shilpa Krishnan, it might be me!

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Poetry time

Prose has become prosaic. Time for some poetry now. Well, this is one of my favourite poems. wrote it on a bus ride(29 C) through the by-lanes of Chennai. So here goes -


INDIAN CROWDS


They smell so weird, you say
They smell so exotic, I say

They look grotesque, you say
They are the epitomes of beauty, I say

They are overbearingly affectionate, you say
They have big warm hearts, I say

They chatter incessantly, you say
They are the most interesting speakers, I say

They are dumb beyond words, you say
They are prodigies and geniuses, I say

They make much ado about nothing, you say
They live each day to the fullest, I say

They celebrate every silly occasion, you say
They celebrate the joy of living, I say

They think not twice before conversing with a stranger, you say
They are the most welcoming souls of all in this world, I say

They know not of a word called caution, you say
In god they trust and to him leave the rest, I say

They have the messiest houses of all, you say
Oh! But the most beautiful homes of all, I say

They poke their noses in everyone's business, you say
They are the most genuinely concerned of all, I say

Oh! But they are perpetually surrounded by murk, you say
Oh! But they are the lotus in the swamps, I say

Damn them, they are but brown idiotic Asians, you say
Hail them, they are the great Indian Crowds, I say


----- Shilpa Krishnan

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Agnosticism - My religion

From a very young age, I have found it difficult to believe in the existence of God. Oh! Don’t get me wrong now. I have done my share of prayers and temples and bhajans and poojas but somehow, I have found it difficult to believe in the existence of the Ram’s, Krishna’s, Vishnu’s, Lakshmi’s and the 33 crore other Hindu deities. Nor do I, for that matter, believe in the Allah’s, Rahim’s and Jesus’ of this world.

Growing up in a typical Brahmin family, I have, from a very young age, been taught the required quota of Shlokas and Bhajans. My devout mother used to conduct Bal-Vikas classes for all the children in our neighborhood and I would happily take part, singing glories of Ram and Krishna with great gusto. Those were the days when I believed that if we questioned His existence or spoke ill about anything even remotely religious, Yama Raj would ensure us a place in Naraklok. And that, if I said “Om Shri Ram Jay Ram Jay Jay Ram” 108 times a day, I would surely land in Swarglok.

And having attended a couple of convent schools, I was quite knowledgeable about the ways of Christianity and had gotten quite fond of the peace and quiet that the chapel offered. Moreover, Christmas sounded like one of the best festivals ever.

But as time rolled, I began to question the various things I had taken for granted. I began to question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blind-folded fear. And I found that there were no convincing answers. What kind of God would let the hard-workers suffer in abject poverty while the corrupt got away with all the goodies? What kind of God would let Innocent children be ill-treated and beaten up? What kind of God would allow women to be treated as mere sex objects? What kind of God would allow discrimination on the basis of caste, creed and color? What kind of God would turn the blind eye when all around there was just suffering and indiscriminate bloodshed? What kind of God would fail to take care of those who He created?

I had been taught that God would ensure justice and that, by the rule of Karma, the wrong-doers would get punished in their next birth. But I thought that only the Indian justice system was the delaying type, not His justice system as well.

I wasn’t that great a disbeliever to label myself an atheist. Moreover, they have no holidays!And therefore I suffered a religious-identity crisis. Thankfully, I soon learnt of a word called agnosticism and since it suited me fine, I gladly adopted. Agnosticism simply means that a man shall not say he knows or believes that for which he has no grounds for professing to believe.

I believe that there is divinity in each of us. Being good and doing good is all it takes to bring out this quality. There is no need to worship idols or shed blood – human or animal, in the name of the Almighty. All that is required is a feeling of love and compassion towards our fellow beings.

Few nations have been so poor as to have but one god. Gods were made so easily, and the raw material cost so little, that generally the god market was fairly glutted and heaven crammed with these phantoms the world has suffered far less from ignorance than from pretensions to knowledge. It is not skeptics or explorers but fanatics and ideologues who menace decency and progress. No agnostic ever burned anyone at the stake or torture. I consider it a compliment to be called an agnostic. I do not pretend to know where many ignorant men are sure -- that is all that agnosticism means.

Just to know more about the origin of this term, I googled it and here is its etymology


Etymology: from Greek agnôstos (ignorant), gnosis = knowledge.

The word agnosticism was created in 1869 by Thomas Huxley, British naturalist (1825-1895) who took inspiration from the ideas of David Hume and of Emmanuel Kant. Agnosticism is a philosophy that declares absolute, divine, metaphysics, and more generally what cannot be grasp by experiment, is inaccessible to the human mind and to perception. Consequently, the existence of God cannot be proven. Agnosticism professes a complete ignorance about the profound nature, the origin and the destiny of things. It is a form of skepticism applied to metaphysics and theology.

Already present in the Ancient Greece, agnosticism developed much in the 18th and 19th centuries because of the progress of science that provided experimental results contradicting the religious dogmas and the Holy Scripture like Bible.

God being unknowable, the agnostic cannot come to a conclusion about his existence and consequently considers that it is useless to worship him or to submit to revealed morals that should have been dictated to men.

Buddhism and Jainism are agnostic religions. Protagoras, Democritus, Hume, Emmanuel Kant, William James, Herbert Spencer, Albert Einstein were agnostic. As is Shilpa Krishnan.


Now coming to the reactions of people around me. My parents tried a little to re-convert me but I stood adamant and they gave in. thankfully, I found a few friends who agreed with me and a few others who thought that this was just a new fad I picked up. But overall, nobody was really surprised and my conversion didn’t raise much of a ripple.

Having converted into an agnostic, I could enjoy the best of both worlds. I could celebrate the festivals I thought, made sense. I could mock the rituals I thought were insensible. And I could make all the fun I wanted of the so-called god-men. So I had a galore when the Shankaracharya was charged with murder and accused of molestation. And couldn’t stop telling all and sundry about the Breast baba (apparently he molested women on the pretext of ensuring them their progeny).

All you believers out there can curse me all ye want, but I give a damn cos I don’t quite believe that such a place as hell does in fact exist. on a closing note, I would like to say that even if one might not quite believe in God’s existence, it has occurred to me that God has Alzheimer's and has forgotten we exist.

Agnostically yours,


p.s. check out this joke.

“Q: What do you get when you cross an insomniac, an agnostic, and a dyslexic?

A: Someone who stays up all night wondering if there is a Dog.”



Anyways, here’s an online quiz I took. Now, this might say I have Islamic tendencies, but I didn’t spend the last half an hour typing about my new-found religion, to be labeled a Muslim. I therefore insist that I am a devout agnostic. Even if this test claims otherwise.


Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Islam. Your beliefs are most similar to those of Islam. Do more research on Islam and possibly consider taking the shahadah and officially becoming a Muslim, if you aren't already.

Despite the actions of some - who go against the teachings of Islam - Islam is a religion of peace; the word "islam" means "peace through submission to God." "Muslim" means "one who submits to God." Islam is the third of the three Abrahamic faiths, and it shares much with Judaism in Christianity; its differences are the acceptance of Muhammad as the last and final prophet, and the oneness of God - in other words, that Jesus, though he was a revered prophet, was not in fact God, and only one God exists. Apparently the Taliban could not read (though their name means "students"), because the Qur'an states that men and women are equal as believers, and that all believers should be educated and seek knowledge. Modesty in dress and behavior is required in Islam for both men and women to preserve the values of society and move the emphasis from superificial appearance to intelligence, knowledge, and God.


Islam

92%

Paganism

88%

Judaism

79%

Satanism

79%

agnosticism

75%

atheism

71%

Hinduism

67%

Buddhism

63%

Christianity

29%

Monday, February 27, 2006

Building Blues

From a very young age, I was quite used to moving from one town to another, thanks to my father working in a bank. By the time I was ten, I had lived in six different places. And gotten quite tired of this moving around jhanjat. It is quite a pain leaving old friends and making new ones every couple of years.

So when pa decided to quit the bank and settle down in Hyderabad, I was relieved to say the least. Anyhow, one fine summer morning, we landed in Mount Santoshi Apartments (MSA). My very first time in an apartment complex.

Being the shy kid that I was in those days, it took quite a lot of persuading from my mother to actually go and talk to the other kids. Exasperated, she did the intro while I was hiding my face in her sari pallu.

But it didn’t take me long to become friendly and before I knew, I was one of them, running around the building and screaming away to glory.

Now, MSA was a huge building with 41 flats in it and almost 150 residents. People from all part of the country, living, laughing, screaming, celebrating, crying and loving together. If ever you wanted to view India in a nutshell, this was the place to be.

Anyways, within a month of living in MSA, I had landed myself a part in the annual building play. I was to play Cinderella’s evil step-mom. What a miscast! How did they expect an innocent faced me to pull that off? Well, all I had was one teensy-weensy line. I was to make my grand entry with a cup of tea in my hand, saying- “Oh! My tea is so cold.” and then I was to slip and fall down. Quite a horrid experience. No wonder that was my first and only foray into dramatics.

Well, now most of my evenings were spent playing downstairs for 4-5 hours straight. We used to play all sorts of games ranging from cricket, throw ball, badminton, football, French cricket, 7 stones, hide n seek, sly fox, hopscotch, and a whole lot of other silly stuff the names of which I can’t remember.

Coming to the interesting characters in MSA. Let’s start from the ground floor, shall we. Well, there was Venkat Uncle, my fave uncle in MSA. He used to play with all of us and even help us organize the Aug-15 celebrations. His kids Manu and Mansa were good friends of mine. Then coming to first floor, there was this uncle who was the building chimney, smoking 24*7. Almost everyone in the building had a disagreement, and once in a while we would get to see an open name-calling session, all the uncles in the building against him. Boy! Was it fun or what.

And then there were Shilpa, Swetha. Now Shilpa, being my namesake, was called Big Shilpa while I was called Small Shilpa. And even though she left MSA a couple of years later, the name struck on and I was always referred to as Small Shilpa.

Second floor would definitely be the most interesting. Cos in that floor resided the mad lady. And when I say mad, I really mean it. This lady, by the name Hajra, was really insane. She would do all sorts of crazy things. For starters, she developed an animosity towards Venkat Uncle and his family. Poor things, she would make baseless allegations against them and even once made a police complaint. And oh! You should hear her rabble when she is in one of those insane fits of hers. She would just stand in the middle of the road and shout out all obscenities. Do ask me for a personal narration next time u meet me cos it’s more effective when said in person.

Once, when we were all playing downstairs, she threw boiling hot water on us. To which someone quipped, “paani tho phek diya, shampoo bhi thoda sa phek do na”. Apparently, she once threw knifes and vessels at Chintu, the building bully. His brother Ballu and he were as different as chalk and cheese.

Then coming to the third floor, not many interesting people. There was Nandini, the national tennis player. And then there were raki and sunny. I remember this incident. Once all of us gals were in the terrace and Sunny was standing in his balcony. The positioning was such that we could see him but he couldn’t see us. So anyhow, one of us was waving out this white dupatta and it was late evening at that time. Must have been quite eerie to see just a white duapatta floating in the air cos Sunny darted into his house and wasn’t seen in the balcony for quite a few days.

Now, the fourth floor. This was the floor in which I lived. Had a Muslim neighbor on one side and a Christian cum Parsi neighbor on the other. Now this Muslim aunty would keep advising all the girls to stop playing and start cooking. Her son was like the building Casanova. And mind you, quite an old and married one at that. Nancy aunty, the Christian neighbor was quite fun. Both of us would spend hours to an end discussing books. And I still remember those days we played teacher-teacher, House- house et al with Serena, Merena and Sweety. Ahh!! Nostalgia.

Oh! And how could I forget the watchmen, there was Vittal, an old guy whom we used to love to hate. We would have a competition of sorts to see which one could tyrannize the other more. Then there was Narasimha, a fat, lazy watchman who wouldn’t bother even if we broke all the windows. Then came Bahadur with his Nepali troop. With his relatives visiting him every other day, it appeared as if the whole of Nepal had migrated to MSA.

Phew! This sure has been a long post. Nothing else much about MSA. Shall update when something new strikes. Oh ya, a passing mention on the fun-filled kite flying days of Sankranti, the cracker bursting during diwalis, the coulour-play during the holis, the evening bhajans during Janmashtami and best of all, vinayaka chathurthi. My greedy brother, along with his bratty friends, would tour the locality on their bikes collecting the prasadam from each ganapati idol stand.

Ahh! If only I could revisit those lovely days again!!!!

Friday, February 24, 2006

The Indian Connection

Here are some very interesting questions put forward by foreigners to Indians staying abroad. and here are the witty answers they gave --


Q. What does that red dot on women's forehead mean?
A. Well, in ancient times, Indian men used to practice archery skills by target practicing by aiming at their wife's red dot. In fact, that is one of the reasons why they had many wives. You see, once they mastered the art of archery and hit the target....


Q. You're from India, aren't you? I have read so much about the country. All the wonderful places, the forests, the snake charmers, the elephants Do you still use elephants for transportation?

A. Absolutely. In fact we used to have our own elephant in our house but later, we started elephant pooling with our neighbours, to save the air. You see elephants have an "emission" problem...


Q. Does India have cars?
A. No. We ride elephants to work. (Refer response to earlier question)

Q. Does India have TV?
A. No. We only have cable.


Q. Are all Indians vegetarian?

A. Yes. Even tigers in India are vegetarian.

Q. How come you speak English so well?
A. You see when the British were ruling India, they employed Indians as servants. It took too long for the Indians to learn English. So the British isolated an "English-language" gene and infused their servants' babies with it and since then all babies born are born speaking English.
A variation to the above is a compliment ---

"You speak very good English."
Response: Thanks. So do you.


Q. Are you a Hindi?

A. Yes. I am spoken everyday in Northern India.

Q. Do you speak Hindu?
A. Yes, I also speak Jewish, Islam and Christianity.


Q. Is it true that everyone there is very corrupt?

A. Yes, in fact, I had to bribe my parents so that they would let me go to school.


Q. India is very hot, isn't it?

A. It is so hot there that all the water boils spontaneously. That is why tea is such a popular drink in India.


Q. Are there any business companies in India?

A. No. All Indians live on the Gandhian principles of self-sufficiency. We all make our own clothes and grow our own food. That is why you see all these thin skinny Indians -- it is a lot of hard work.


Q. Indians cannot eat beef, huh?
A. Cows provide milk, which is a very essential part of Indian diet. So eating cows is forbidden. However in order to decrease the population of the country, the government is trying to encourage everyone to eat human meat.


Q. India is such a religious place. Do you meditate regularly?

A. Yes, sometimes I meditate for weeks without food and drink. But it is difficult to keep my job, because I have to miss work when I meditate
like that. But the bosses there do the same thing. That is why things are so inefficient there.

Q. I saw on TV that people there walk on burning coals. Why do they do that?
A. We don't have shoes. So we burn the bottom of our feet to make it hard so that we can walk.


Q. Why do you sometimes wear Indian clothes to work?

A. I prefer it to coming naked.

Q. How do you celebrate Thanksgiving Day in India?

A. By roasting an American....

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Random Stuff

10 years ago

I was nine. That was what- 4th standard. So that would mean I was in St.Marys in TPG, a sleepy town in Andhra. Thanks to my short – term memory, I don’t exactly remember much. Grandpa passed away that year. Had gone to Bombay for the vacation – first trip to Essel World. And that was the year my tryst with Enid Blyton began. Used to wonder why none of the elders appreciated Blyton much anymore and swore to remain loyal to her, come rain or shine. Have failed to keep my promise.

5 years ago

In Hyderabad now. Lovely place. 9th standard in NPS. School was fun. Building was even better. Spent roughly four – five hours a day playing downstairs with the other kids. Also, realized that I was visually challenged. Brother’s poonal (thread ceremony) in village in kerala. Superb vacations. Went for sailing and riding classes as well. And started serious reading – the grown up novels, that is.

Last year

Last year was eventful. Bad memories exceed the good ones though. Law classes and C.A. classes wee fun while they lasted. Best vacation ever – to the north east. shillong in particular. Kaziranga wildlife sanctuary was a visual treat.

Yesterday

Was ok. Got up early. At around seven. That’s very very early by my usual standards. Was niece’s choruun (first time eating solid food ceremony). Wore saree and all.. Had loads of fun. Nice sadhi chapadu. Pavi had come home in the evening. Sat in the beach for a while. Pleasant. Then decided to make chocolate milkshake for the both of us. Thanks to the mal-functioning mixer, was splattered with milkshake. Guess that’s how it feels to use the new chocolate Lux. Re-reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.


5 yummy things

Death by chocolate
Roti with paneer butter masala
Hot hot jalebis
Cold cold pineapples
Veg biriyani (only the one rajji’s mum makes)


5 songs I know by heart

Jana gana mana
Vande mataram
Old mac-donald
Raindrops on roses
A guy is a guy


5 things I’d do if I had a lot of money

Buy landmark
Tour the world
Buy a patch of forest and build a tree-house for myself
Build a school for street-kids
Convert all the money into 1 rupee coins and swim in it like uncle scrooge

5 places I escape to

The park
The terrace
The beach
Pavi’s place
Can’t think of a fifth one

5 things I’d never wear

Bright fluorescent green
Low-rise jeans
Multi-colored robes
Leaves
Accessories with skulls or dragons on them

5 favorite TV shows

Friends
Caroline in the city
The O.C.
Malgudi Days
Just for Laughs Gags


5 things I enjoy doing

Reading
Hanging out with friends
Watching movies
Nature walks
Playing with babies/kids

Favourite toys

I have none.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Jogger's Park





As I have already mentioned in one of my previous posts, I go regularly for a 30 mins walk in the park next door. Now, apart from walking, I also indulge in one of my favourite pass-time, “People Watching”.

Even as a little child, I have always been fascinated by the many faces around me. I always try to guess the story that lies behind each face. This hobby of mine has helped me through many a long waits.

So anyway, coming back to the subject at hand- the people in the park. Now most of you might be wondering what kind of people might be there in the park – apart from the joggers and a bunch of kids. Ah..You couldn’t be more wrong. Every park is a universe in itself – containing many a species ranging from Homo sapiens to animals of all sizes and shapes.

Let’s begin with the Homo sapiens, shall we. For starters, you do have the serious joggers. The ones that are quite regular, dressed in tracks, tees and sneakers. Usually, they come alone, sometimes accompanied with a walkman or Discman (FYI I belong to this category).

Then we have the kids. These little devils come in all shapes and sizes. There are the quiet ones, the naughty ones, the pesky ones, the ones with running noses, the ones with sand all over them, the ones which wave at you for no reason, the ones that bawl out loud if you so much as pat them on their heads, and the ones that make faces at you.

We now move on to the adults. Starting with the elderly…Well, now this park has many a grandpas and grandmas who frequent it. Usually I am quite capable of overtaking most of them on my daily rounds. But wait, there’s this one super-athletic gramps who is always many a step ahead of me. Phew! I have tried many a time to race him, but tried in vain I have. And yes, there’s this Punjabi grandma who has taken quite a liking for me. She makes it a point to come greet me every time she sees me and spends a good 10 mins talking about all things sundry.

My favourite category now – the middle aged. These are the most interesting to watch. For starters you have these aunties puffing and panting in synthetic salwar kurtas (teamed with Adidas and Nike) and smelling like last night’s raita. Mmph!! Then there are these bunch of Muslim aunties, walking in burqas. For god’s sake, there ain’t any Taliban here auntyji. I feel hot in my cotton sleeveless top itself, they sure must be roasting.

Moving on to the love-birds. Nah, not the colourful birds da, but the cuddly, mushy romeo-juliets and laila-majnoos. Most of these love-struck couples are regulars. Same place, same time, same bench, everyday. And do they occupy all the benches or what. Here am I, puffing and panting and in need of a bench to relax myself but alas, each and every one of them has been turned into a lover’s nest. I sometimes have a good mind to click their snaps in compromising poses and send them to their families. That should keep them away from the park and it’s benches for quite some time.

Then you have the vetti porikis (for the non- tamilians, vetti porikis translates to jobless, useless, good-for-nothing idiotic boys). They also do nothing much apart from lounging on the benches, making passes at all the female species. Che Che..

And on Sundays, you have a whole new range of species. Sundays usually mean family outings, and thanks to the over- crowding in the beaches, many families have decided to switch from sea to grass. So we have whole families trooping into the tiny park dada, dadi, nana, nani, ma, pitaji, chacha, chachi, bua, tau, and a jing-bang of bacche log.

Now let us address the part that greatly interests the teenager in me. Yup, I am talking about eye-candy. Sadly for me, this park doesn’t offer much of the species labeled “cute-guys”. There’s this one who comes on Sundays. And this other who comes with his grandma everyday. But nah, they aren’t all that cute. Now this sure is one endangered species. Babes, you have aplenty in the park. But hunks, ah, sorry to disappoint you dear girlie. Search elsewhere.

And how can I not mention those that come with their cameras in tow. Yup, the park is quite a popular shooting spot. Every other day, you get to see a bunch posing for the camera. And for some strange reason, they seem to think that I am quite a good photographer cos I have been asked to do the honours quite a few times.

Oh and how could I not mention the grumpy care-taker of the park. He gets all heated up if anyone as much as steps on the grass and don’t ever let him see you with a ball or bat in your hand.

Well, I guess that’s it about the menagerie in the park. will update if I come across any other interesting specimens.

Till then,

Happy jogging and people-watching.


p.s. that really is the pic of the park i walk in, not some random park.pliss to note the bridge and all.

Where do babies come from???




So where do babies come from? Well, almost everyone, as a child, would have either asked their parents or formed a theory of their own. Now, as a child, I was the quiet sort and so I didn’t trouble my parents with this embarrassing question. Instead I formed a theory of my own.

I always though that the babies were already present in the woman’s tummy and would come out once they got married.

Now, not all parents are as lucky as mine.Many a time, many a parent has been put in quite a tight spot by their kids asking them about their origin.And many a parent have given varying versions of the stork theory. Now, we might be taught otherwise in our biology classes but here is a very convincing piece of research that does make you ponder!!!

- from the Institute for Stork Research and Science

Two different theories exist concerning the origin of children: the theory of Sexual reproduction, and the theory of the stork. Many people believe in the theory of sexual reproduction because they have been taught this theory at school. In reality, however, many of the world's leading scientists are in favor of the theory of the stork. If the theory of sexual reproduction is taught in schools, it must only be taught as a theory and not as the truth. Alternative theories, such as the theory of the stork, must also be taught.

Evidence supporting the theory of the stork includes the following:

1. It is a scientifically established fact that the stork does exist. This can be confirmed by every ornithologist.

2. The alleged human fetal development contains several features that the theory of sexual reproduction is unable to explain.

3. The theory of sexual reproduction implies that a child is approximately nine months old at birth. This is an absurd claim. Everyone knows that a newborn child is newborn.

4. According to the theory of sexual reproduction, children are a result of sexual intercourse. There are, however, several well documented cases where sexual intercourse has not led to the birth of a child.

5. Statistical studies in the Netherlands have indicated a positive correlation between the birth rate and the number of storks. Both are decreasing.

6. The theory of the stork can be investigated by rigorous scientific methods. The only assumption involved is that children are delivered by the stork.


Convincing, ain't it!!!

Friday, February 17, 2006

Hum bhi agar bacche hote!!!

"All characters in this piece of writing are Real. Any resemblance to people you might know is not necessarily coincidental."

*Names of the persons have been changed to protect their identity.



In every person a child is hidden that wants to play. And so is the case with me. Well, there happens to be a park right next to home which I frequent every evening and apart from walking 30mins a day, I also take time to pamper the child in me.

Unlike most other parks which have a gazillion slides, see-saws, swings and monkey bars, this one offers you just a huge sand enclosure. Yup, just sand. But you must remember that a child is a being who gets almost as much fun out of a fifty-six dollar set of swings as it does out of a box of sand. And a huge enclosure full of sand, Ahh that must be worth billions of dollars.

Until recently, I was just one of the serious walkers. None of the kids (all 10 year old brats) who barely acknowledged my presence no matter how many smiles I flashed at them. There was just one cute kid, Rohit, who would shyly smile and turn his face away the moment I smiled back (little did I know then what lay beneath that shy exterior)

Anyways, one bright evening, as I was on my usual rounds, I see a little girl standing on the bridge and waving her hands at me. I wave back and she beckons me to come to her. The little girl was Pinky.

Pinky is no stranger to me. She lives in the same apartment as me and every time she sees me, promises to get me a “ellow” bubblegum. So well, I go onto the bridge and then she drags me to the sand enclosure. And then we set about building a sand castle comprising of a gateway and a chimney and all.
But then, just as we are nearing completion, disaster strikes in the form of Rohit. Yes sir, do not misjudge a shy smile for beyond lurks a destructive mind.

Terrified, Pinky cowers behind me for protection from the “shy” destructor!!! Me, the knight in the shining armor, set about to rescue the damsel in distress. I somehow managed to save her from the clutches of the young monster (the cutest monster ever) and we continued on our MISSION SAND CASTLE. After completing it, she wanted to click a few snaps. So off she went to the other side of the enclosure to take a long-shot of me sitting beside the castle. The pic was well shot-good focus, flash (of her milky teeth) et al. She than asked me to click one of hers so I acted as if doing so with my cell. When she came over to see how the pic was, I showed her a pic of Abishek Bachan and told her that it was her. She gave me a knowing look and said “No! No! That is the Dus Bahane guy”. Lemme travel back in time now. At the tender age of four, all I knew was Mowgli and a few characters of Mahabharata. Not a clue about the kingdom of Bollywood. Times sure have changed.


After a while it was time for me to go. So I bid her adieu and she made me promise that I would drop by her home later in the evening.

The next evening, was a lot more fun. She had gotten bored of building castles and was getting hungry. To satisfy her hunger she decided to celebrate her Birthday. Unfortunately for us, we had to settle for a sand cake. But I must tell you, given the right company, a sand cake can sure be a lot more delicious than a normal one.

So anyway, we set out on our culinary expedition. It didn’t take us much while to make the cake (what with us not having to use an oven and all). But it looked quite plain so we decided to decorate it with candles and whipped cream (a piece of crumpled white paper served the purpose). Pinky managed to find a wooden knife and blew off the four candles after making a wish. She then cut it into a zillion pieces, ate a substantial part of the cake and gave me the leftovers.

I then asked her to give the leftover leftovers to another little boy who had helped us with the cake. This little kid kept coming up to me and giving me a few grains of sand saying “cake”, “cake” with every fistful. But Pinky was hesitant to invite company and refused to distribute the cake. So I had to do the honors.

Since it was getting dark and I hadn’t walked much, I pushed off, only to be brought to a grinding halt in a few minutes. This time, to celebrate my birthday. We made a bigger cake and then I asked her to get me 19 candles. She looked at me with a I-cant-manage-that expression and said she could manage at the most only one. So my first birthday it was. And since I was just a one year old baby, she decided that it would be dangerous for me to handle the knife and so once again, she was the one to cut the cake. She fed me as well and then we decided to head for home.

But, for some strange reason, she was in a very benevolent mood today and wanted to give me a strawberry bubblegum. So she dragged me home, opened the refrigerator, took out a single bubblegum, put half of it into her mouth, bit it into two, and gave me the piece that was in her mouth. I gladly ate it and rushed home.

As I got into the elevator, I realized that If children are to keep alive their inborn sense of wonder, they needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with them the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in.

Children have neither past nor future; and that which seldom happens to us, they rejoice in the presen
And only in their playful company do you discover the little joys that life offers.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Stupid Cupid

If love is in the air, I don't think I am breathing.

Stupid Cupid has missed his mark yet again. Sigh!!!

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Who am I?

They: Who are you?

Me : I am who I think I am. And what I think about who I am is between I, me and Myself


Now, who are you??

Saturday, February 04, 2006

The senses

Here is a list of the things that appeal to each of my senses:

SIGHT:

1. Lush meadows
2. Valley of flowers
3. The sea/ocean
4. Babies
5.Sunset

SMELL:

1. Wet earth
2. Flowers
3. The smell of babies
4. Freshly baked cake
5.Vicks inhaler(only when I have a cold, and that’s always!)

SOUND:

1. The sound of the sea (the waves lashing against the sand)
2. Tinkling laughter
3. Temple/church bells
4. Soothing music
5. Chirping birds

TASTE:

1. Nimbu pani
2. Mango pickle
3. Death by choclate
4. Hot jalebis
5. Cold pineapples
TOUCH:

1. Furry animals
2. Grandma’s soft wrinkly skin
3. Baby’s bottom
4. Soft sand in the beach + waves in the sea
5. A loved one’s hand in mine

So what do ya think of my list…Tell me about yours as well

Sensually yours.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Rang de basanti - The review

Yes, yes!!! I do know that almost every other Ram, Shyam and Geeta of the blogosphere have reviewed the movie. But what the heck! This is my private space and I shall bloody well write what I want to. And dear Aamir would so feel insulted if he didn’t find mention in my blog. So at least for his sake, here goes—

For starters, lemme say that nobody in their right senses would give this movie a pass. This is by far one of the best Indian movies in a long while. Yessir, even better than your “Black” and “Page 3”.

Now for the story. Don’t worry; there are no plot-spoilers ahead. Me ain’t a sadist. Anyway, as all movie stories go, we start off all fresh and happy with a bunch of bindaas college-going boys. Life’s a merry ride for them until one day a gori kudi walks into their life and spins it all around.

DJ (Aamir), Karan (Siddharth), Sukhi (Sharmaan Joshi), Aslam (Kunal Kapoor) and Ram (Atul Kulkarni) are the five Sue Meckenzie (the gori mem) chooses to act in her documentary on revolutionary freedom fighters.

To say that they play their role to perfection would be an understatement. Perfect casting. Witty dialogues. Mind-blowing songs. Beautiful locales. The Indian feel. You name it and RDB has it. Not to forget Soha Ali Khan and Madhavan. They did complete justice to their roles. As did all the senior artistes appearing in cameos.

Now, in the course of making the documentary, things happen. Things that change their outlook on life. Things that make them realize their responsibility and stand up to them.

The director has handled controversial topics with great panache and sensitivity. This is a must watch for all Indians, patriotic or otherwise. And a must watch for all you teenage gals out there. Watch out for Sharmaan Joshi. He sure will melt your heart. Mine is just a lump of molten liquid right now

So what are you waiting for dearie. Quick, get moving. And do tell me how much you loved it. Till then...

Yours colorfully(rangeeli)

Friday, January 27, 2006

10 things not to do while on a date

This post is exclusively for all those desperate single souls out there, who just don't seem to understand why they have so much difficulty in finding Mr. ya Ms.Right
So here is the list of 10 things not to do while on a date (This applies to both ladies and gentlemen)

1. Firstly, there are no hard and fast rules on what not to do while on a date. While someone might detest a particular act of yours, someone else might just adore it.

2. Therefore there is no point in my continuing this post.

3. And neither any point in you continuing to read it.

4. So why are you still reading it????

5. Didn't you get what i said? Stop reading!!

6. Cos I am just trying to waste your time.

7. But you seem to be playing into my hands.

8. Don't ya understand english?

9. Gosh! You sure are bent on wasting your precious time..

10. Jeez!! It sure is simple to make a fool out of you


Hee Hee....Do write in and tell me whether you found this list helpful.And for all ya cute guys out there, me single and ready to mingle!!!!

Thursday, January 26, 2006

55 word story

Well, I haven't been officially tagged as yet. But having read many a 55 word stories, I came up with one of my own.

So here goes....


They had discovered the "Fountain of Youth". The whole world was elated.Everyone was celebrating. Everyone except him. This discovery meant the end of the world for him. He was mourning. There was no more reason for him to live. Indeed, this was the darkest day in his life.

He was an "Undertaker".

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Look Whos Back

Well,let me begin with how i set out on this mission to blog.

For those who don't know me well enough,I have a friend N who is slightly crazy(actually not slightly,more like totally).Anyways,for once she had a decent idea and that was to blog.The reason being that everyone she knew had become bugged of her late night messaging and she had nothing better to do than to blog.

And now, madam does not enjoy doing things by herself.And deep down her heart she knew that nobody would bother to comment on her blogs.SO she comes up with this fool-proof master plan.And that is to force me into creating a blog for myself.So atleast we can comment on each other's blogs.

Well, her ploy did work for mine is the first and only comment on her blog.And i even created my own blog(not that i didnt want to).

Anyways, thats it about my entry into blogdom.