Vanilla Coke Ramblings

Mischief Managed

2011-07-31T16:56:00.000+05:30


Dated: 29th July, 2011 \| Studio: Tattoo Star \| Artist: Vishal (Extreme left)

Purplesong

2011-07-03T00:42:00.002+05:30

Ever heard dusk falling in on you?
Like soft chimes on a desert wind
Muted by their own resonance
ripples and ripples

From Letters Past

2011-06-25T21:44:00.003+05:30

We wove stories into time.
Little stories, never meant to be told, only to be lived and forgotten.

Musings

2011-06-14T19:43:00.001+05:30

Let us sit at the corner shop
Drink flower-of-sunshine malt
and stroke lilies with the tenderness of dragonflies.

We've lived centuries of pleasure and pain
Let us rest now.

Of House Elves and Children's Tales

2011-06-08T19:29:00.000+05:30

"That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to understand. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped."
- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows

Sula

2011-04-27T20:50:00.000+05:30

An excerpt from Sula by Toni Morrison

"With the exception of BoyBoy, those Peace women loved all men. It was manlove that Eva bequeathed to her daughters. Probably, people said, because there were no men in the house, no men to run it. But actually, that was not true. The Peace women simply loved maleness, for it's own sake."

Toni Morrison

Iced Sunshine

2011-04-25T01:58:00.001+05:30

Little do we know what we are meant for.
The great, the menial, the averagely boring.
For we are spirits of another sort.

Touching my happy place

2010-07-22T17:42:00.000+05:30

Procastranation

2010-02-17T21:09:00.008+05:30

Since every blogger worth his/her web space has done a post on exams/board exams/final semesters I thought I’d might as well jump on the bloody BEST bus (I have never seen a bandwagon myself; however, I have ridden a BEST bus, that felt like my waistband after an all-you-can-eat, countless times)

Ya, so I’ve noticed I’d do anything to not study

item 1: call people: I’m anti-social once home, I hate phone calls. plus I’m half-gujju, so this one’s BIG!

item 2: calling people I wouldn’t call even if my life depended on it: sad, but true

item 3: meeting people I wouldn’t usually be caught dead with: if you think this is you, ~~it probably is~~ it’s not. It’s that other moron I can’t stand.

item 4: housework *the horror*

item 5: go shopping: ha ha almost got you there! No child, shopping comes AFTER bunny torture and crash dieting.

item 6: writing worthless blog posts that no one’s ever going to read. probably not even me.

p.s.- Procrastination is known to have led to castration. Be Warned!

*********THIS IS NOT THE END, THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING*********

Why Baileys is better than Milk

2009-12-20T03:39:00.004+05:30

Since you can’t get straighter than I have with the title let’s just move on. Full steam ahead !(hope you didn’t have a heavy breakfast)

1) It’s sweet. Adding sugar/chocolate/caramel to milk doesn’t have quite the same effect.

2) After a dinner of chicken in fancy sauces, 3 kinds of wine and Peking duck you’d be glad to round it off with a nice little bout of Bailey’s. Milk, not so much.

3) If taken in adequate quantities can take you to a happy place. Milk will only make you thank god for coffee beans.

4) Makes for some damn good coffee. There’s just so much you can say for milk.

5)Karen* puts it in her cereal. ‘nuff said!

*ref- Will & Grace’s very own friendly neighbourhood “high”-flying socialite

p.s.- I do realise the above is painfully obvious, but I harbour a deep love for Baileys. And ~~Milk~~ Karen.

Sparkling Sprite II

2009-12-12T19:31:00.001+05:30

You say tomato, I say to-mah-to

2009-11-29T17:29:00.006+05:30

While looking for pictorial representations of my feelings in regard to previous posts I came across some really sexist ketchup ads. Not really sexist, but then if you want to be a bra-burning feminist, i say let’s get this party started! (i’ll participate if you let me burn the cheap stuff, you’re not touching my nice knickers!)

oh anyway, here it goes

by the size of those pupils and that look on her face I’m assuming her pills don’t come packed in ketchup bottles *likes her lip and nail color, must remember for friday night skank*

oh and here’s another,

It just makes my heart happy that women still want to cook for men. Or this ad is from the 50’s. Either way I like Heinz (so thick!) and I could really use a good sandwich right about now.

I like the lil birdie in this picture. So ‘early Archies’ Betty and Veronica’ ^_^

Musings- French Fry Ramblings

2009-11-28T11:24:00.005+05:30

The greatest blow to the ego is being replaced by someone else or having someone else picked over you. This fundamental shift in importance causes us more anguish than anything else. Because that’s what failure is, isn’t it. Not being good enough. Or maybe just not being the best around.

What’s funny is that we seek this without. Why do we expect someone else to pin us on their priority list if we can’t be on the top of our own? It’s a little stupid to want someone to want us. Want yourself. Ya but why would i want myself when I know exactly just how many things are wrong with me(when i say me here, i’m talking about general audience member, not myself. I’m fantastic). So you want someone else, whose flaws you don’t know about yet, to want you more than anyone else in the world. It’s funny coz it’s sad…and true. However, it’s always going to be that way. Great.

p.s.- the title has no connexion to the post. enjoy! *where’s the old woman who has my ketchup?*

Strange fits of passion have I known...

2009-10-21T18:54:00.018+05:30

The above being the first line of the verses I intend on talking about, is what drew me to 'Lucy' in the very first place. Wordsworth has always been a poet after my own heart, seeing how he upheld emotion and nature as two of the most awe-inspiring subjects of life. At 11 when i first read The Solitary Reaper as part of my syllabus, it left a little something with me. I still remember the little sigh in my heart when I read the last few lines of the poem,

"I saw her singing at her work,

And o'er the sickle bending;

I listened, motionless and still;

And as I mounted up the hill

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more"

I once spent a lazy afternoon thinking about how experiences are defined by their very memory. The incident itself passes in a haze and never affects you as much as the memory of it does. So in a way, Living is Remembering. This must suck for patients of amnesia, Alzheimer's and all those other little troubles that make your head feel like a blender with bits and pieces of thought floating about. Really makes you grateful, doesn't it?

So yes, back to Willy(can I call him Willy? No I do NOT want to call him Bill! I don't care if you think I'm perverse.) Yes, Willy was a fine chap who understood this years before I had my great epiphany. Willy also loved chiseled, pretty boys but we won't be getting into that. Willy was a magician with descriptors and a hypnotist with the lovesick. He doesn't intimidate with obvious loftiness nor does he serve "fickle fare". His work has a fluidity that plays a little tune in your head, which will disappear when the night light has been put out and the pages laid to rest. But hold them in your hand once again and your eyes will dance to a tune, I don't know if it's the same as before, I won't ever be able to tell. But then, this is not a game of recognition, nor a quest for the thinker. He poses no challenges, assumes no gravity. Willy is content to be what he is.

Back to Lucy. Lucy is what every man would want and every woman would want to be. Lucy is the quintessential young woman. Fragile, lovely. I shall stop here as no description of mine could match that of Wordsworth. In my mind, Lucy is that little girl in our heads, who awaits twilight not for the end of the day's shift, but for the magic of purple mist and sleeping blaze. Who flies with her exquisite tips brushing the sky, who knows she cannot fall, for in her world she decides. Her spirit soaring, flighty but not callous. Passion and dignity. Freedom and grace.

Lucy in the sky with diamonds.

Flashback Part II- Sexy, Sexy, Sexy mujhe log bole

2009-05-02T01:25:00.002+05:30

For reasons best known to the God of all things driven(Automatix, is it?) I happen to miss this gorgeous piece of metal so effin' much! The affair, although brief, is one i shall never forget. This baby has seen some good times. New beginnings, nostalgic ends...

This Flashback is not one that goes too far back, just a couple of months actually, but it feels like I've lived lifetimes since I first met Sexy. Now she may have belonged to the spectral figure leaning on her in the picture but I know she loved me more(yes she did!). She was traded in sometime ago for "Sexier"(only a man could do this).

This post is dedicated to my love for Sexy and her irreplaceable status in my life.

I miss my Sexy. *sigh*

Flashback part I

2009-04-29T16:28:00.006+05:30

This was the poster that continually caught my eye while watching Mere Apne the other day. This poster of the movie Anand would appear repeatedly in the background on increasingly dilapidated walls throughout the movie. The only reason that this held any significance was because Anand was the movie that preceded Mere Apne on my watchlist.

Mere Apne was like a Moral Science lesson cum the travails of every youth in India. Anand, on the other hand, was a movie I had avoided watching for the longest time because everyone kept asking me to give it a go. I always watch movies alone at home, and the treatment given to Anand was no different. I don't know what made me decide I was ready to watch the movie but I decided it was high time. The movie was perfect. A simple story of a simple emotion, Anand, happiness. Anand's character, played by Rajesh Khanna, was the first optimistic character of mainstream cinema who managed to not grate my nerves to breaking point. In fact I felt not a prick of annoyance. I'm not one who takes too kindly to people asking me to look at the glass as half full, and that's exactly why I fell in love with Anand. He knows he's dying, he's knows there' is no looking back but decides to be find joy in every moment than dread the passing of each one. There must be a whole lot of characters similar to Anand in the history of literature and films, the first of which I can recollect is Pollyanna. But none can hold a candle to Anand for the simple fact that he never comes across as preachy in the slightest bit. In fact, he takes joy in playing around with words and confusing the miserable into believing that they're happy. His chatter, although incessant is never inane. Although quite a ray of sunshine myself, I find constant, uncalled for chirpiness extremely put on and quite unbearable. However, with Anand it never felt that way. He breezed through the movie like the rain bearing winds of our country, bringing limitless unspoken joy to all without expecting any returns.

Another reason that Anand will always be close to my heart is that the song, "kahin duur jab din dhal jaaye..." always reminds me, for some inexplicable reason, of my paternal grandfather. It reminds me of evenings spent with him and my sister, my senior by 6 years, when I was a little tyke of 3. The swings and slides of Shivaji Park, the vegetable sandwich from the roadside vendor with that spicy green chutney that was always too hot for me, raspberry and vanilla ice cream would follow or maybe a pepsi. The beach with it's thick familiar scent that will always say home to me, how much ever I may detest it sometimes. The sun, a large red fireball, 'going to sleep' in the blankets of the ocean. The feel of sand, dry and wet, as we would dig and dig endlessly, looking for unknown treasures or maybe just a pool.

It was surprising to note that, the movie, Anand, has been dedicated to the city of Bombay and the people who live here. Everytime the song plays I conjure a mental image of dada, his face unclear, silhouetted against the evening light. These memories that convince me that despite all it's faults, Bombay will always be home. The city, however ravaged, will eternally hold my childhood.

Lady Gag-me!! puke

2009-04-29T13:39:00.002+05:30

ok now the title may not be the most imaginative of it's kind, and i may not usually write about celebrity shennanigans but i have decided to make an exception for the atrocity called Lady Gag-me GaGa

wait, no wait, i don't care if she can sing...i don't care if she can sing the frikkin opera...the woman is an eyesore and an attention-seeking plinket who looks up to Madonna blow up dolls and mime artistes...

Weird is not always a bad descriptor but not always a good one either...

Get a real job and a real wardrobe Lady Gangrene!!!

*has now given more attention to erstwhile stripper than required*

*pops the bubbles on the freak*

p.s.- I tried not jumping on the wife-beating bandwagon, but something in those thigh-high boots tapped a hidden rage in me...call it PMS, i think it's good taste ^_^

Marauders II

2008-05-22T14:41:00.005+05:30

I personally love this snap...says so much...found again on www.deviantart.com ...
some of the artists are fabulous!!!!!

here are a few quotes by Sirius to go with the mood,

"If you made a better rat than a human, that's not much to boast about."

"You should have died! Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed? Only innocent lives, Peter."

"Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."

"Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

*GO TEAM GRYFFINDOR!*

Marauders I

2008-05-21T10:35:00.004+05:30

L-R: Severus, Sirius, Remus, James, Lily

found this on www.deviantart.com ...really cute stuff...go check it out

Here are some quotes by the above that I can never get enough of,

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid." - Lily to James

"Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate." - Sirius to James about Lily

"D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?" - Sirius to Harry

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep." - Sirius to Harry

"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor." - The Marauder's Map to Snape

"Okay, who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" - James about Snape

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." - Snape

"Well, well, Lupin. Out for a little walk... in the moonlight are we?" - Snape

"Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit." - Remus to Harry

"I am sorry too," said Lupin. "Sorry I will never know him...but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life." - Remus to Harry about Teddy

"You'll stay with me?" [Harry] "Until the very end," said James.

Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden

2008-05-11T18:06:00.002+05:30

Since the age of five I've been known to my acquaintances as an avid reader. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to read every book that hits the bestseller list. I haven't yet read anything by Khalid Hosseini(had to google this) or Jhumpa Lahiri, although I do enjoy the occasional Ayn Rand and Paulo Coelho. I'm one of those leisure readers. I feed on stuff like Jeffrey Archer, JKR, Dan Brown, etc. and come on, you do so learn stuff from their books too, like I would never know about the KGB(when I was about 12, I think) if it weren't for Archer or about Jesus' alleged marriage(*sniggers* no comments! All I can say is I never read the Bible, but I've read the DaVinci Code thrice...) if it weren't for Danny boy.

So getting back to my social circle's perception of my reading habits, I invariably got a couple of books on my birthday whether I'd asked for them or not. Don't get me wrong, I'd never complain if someone got me good ol' O.Henry, but there was this time when, not on my bday, just a random day, I got a bunch of books from my family physician(you got it right, even my doctor knew how much I read). She was cleaning out her book collection since both her kids had moved out and there was no one to read them anymore. I jumped at the Mallory Towers(gimme a break, i think i was nine!) but when i came to the P.G. Wodehouse I was stumped! I mean who would land a Wodehouse on an unsuspecting nine yr old!!!! Anyway, I read two pages and shoved it into the back of my book cabinet.

Five (or maybe more) summers later, whilst cleaning, I came across that darned Jeeves once again. Remembering my agony of that long gone summer night, I was close to discarding the book, when I decided to give Bertie a chance. The first story contained a wild child, angry geese, English noblesse of the early 1900s, and, in Wodehouse's own words, the ever-sagacious Jeeves all wrapped in P.G's unique style of the subtlest of humour.
I was smitten.

I remember the rapidity with which I finished that book of short stories (Very Good, Jeeves).
I also remember considering wedlock with Wodehouse (Quite impossible, for one, he's dead+his literary genius might make up for his lack of aesthetic appeal, but still, I didn't know him personally...) but settled for spending the rest of my life with his works. Now I haven't been able to get my hands on a lot of his work considering how much they seem to cost, and with me living on the pocket money of a 19 yr old. I usually adore e-books for their convenience but, in the case of Pelham Grenville, they don't quite work the magic a bunch of yellowed pages can.

Lucky for me, I recently found out that the father of my father's colleague has the collected works of Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse!!! My dad, very thrilled, gets me the Golf Omnibus as the first installment of my summer reading very generously shoved into his bag by Mr. Menon (God bless you!). My spirits rose and fell with equal velocity. Golf. And me. Right!

I read the back cover, I read the Foreword by the author and bit by bit my apprehension grew. Of all the damn books ever written, why one on golf. The only exposure I've had to golf is the cheap imitation of a computer game! I then got to the first story, then the second, and the charm of Sir Wodehouse was back, my very own Knight in Shining Armour wielding a pen (well it IS mightier than the sword you know). I am now through half the stories in the book, a mix of the experienced Oldest Member of the club giving the fledglings advice on everything from Golf etiquette to wooing young women from the upper echelons of Olde English Society, delivered warm with a seasoning of Grenville's bits of irony. Now I may still not know the difference between a Mashie and a Niblick (wait I think they're the same thing) but I sure know that Wodehouse is the best companion for a rainy afternoon and a cup of tea, oh and also, NEVER make small talk on a golf course!

Crease on my Tennis Whites

2008-05-05T17:15:00.003+05:30

I never developed an interest in cricket as a child due to two primary reasons:
1. I am a girl.
2. The boys never let me play with them because I was better than them a girl.

Not understanding the game, I wrote it off as one of those inexplicable little things guys do, like, absolutely hating girls when they're 10 and then doing their best to woo them 5 years later, or thinking that guzzling beer and making an absolute fool of themselves is supposed to impress us :-|

So at the age of 19, when a group of not-so-young boys asked if I'd like to play, I pounced! To be frank, I didn't get my hopes up too much because

a)I was the youngest there.
and b) I was STILL prettier than them a girl.

I expected to be fielding most of the time, rarely batting and never bowling(this I'm ok with coz I suck at it anyway)
Now I don't usually admit I'm wrong(I have borderline authoritarian personality disorder...just not as much as Hitler) but boy was I wrong!
Not only did I get to bat for both teams(we were 7 people in all), i didn't have to field at all(since I was batting for both teams) and no bowling! Could a girl ASK for better!!!

Anyway by the end of it, I'd scored half the runs for both teams(those years of swimming and tennis really paid off...or the guys were just being nice...but I like to think I rock at cricket...) and basically I love playing cricket ever since(this took place about 2 weeks ago...just for the record...)
Now I still hate watching Cricket, so the IPL matches don't do much for me. Like ya i know the point is to lure the wannabe firangs(aka diehard ManU/Chelsea/Arsenal/etc supporters) who follow the EPL and go on about how football is the only real sport, blah blah(ya don't call me, I'll call u when my brain dies...)towards more desi flavour.

Now people may go on and on about how the cricket scene is getting saturated and how the good ol' Test days are now a thing of the past...but hold on! If my dad sends emails instead of letters and I send SMSes instead of emails(notice the dying longevity of the mode of communication) why can't i have my cricket matches shorter, sweeter, more convenient!

Oh and those who talk about dying national integration and all that jazz have you noticed that SRK is definitely not from Calcutta and nor is Ambani from Bombay. (I refuse to use the cities' new names... it messes with my belief system) So the IPL matches are doing anything BUT killing our spirit of nationalism. You would think I'd support Bombay having lived here all my life, but I way prefer the Knightriders(ok fine...a lil of it has to do with Shah Rukh...but still...goal achieved!)and although I don't watch the matches, they know I'm rooting for them(at least they will if they read this post...Shah Rukh, if you read this, LEAVE A COMMENT!)

Another phenomenon is that there are these surrogate IPL matches springing up...like we at AIESEC(largest student-run, not-for-profit, youth organisation of the world) Mumbai are starting the AIESEC Premiere League where we form the same teams as the IPL and play against eachother in a series of matches(I totally like!)

So basically the IPL is this major revolution. And the good sorts like the French Revolution the Industrial Revolution.

Anyway after 19 long years I've realised that cricket is THE SEX!!! So I'm gonna go practice and you can still argue about whether Sreesanth was wrong or Bhaji....I, personally, much prefer playing the sport!

Sparkling Sprite

2008-03-02T19:27:00.001+05:30

a slip of mood into my alter ego

Playing the Youth Card

2008-02-28T14:49:00.003+05:30

What is it with cola giants and the youth??? Every brand strategy begins and ends with us mindless overgrown children. If you did your research right you would know that we're not as intellectually deficient as you make us out to be(ok may be some of us are dumb...but stop generalizing!!!) This is the usual scenario at a cola company's brand placement meeting:

Exec 1: "The damn dentists are telling all the lil kids no more cola or your teeth will rot and that means injections. The tiny morons are now averse to our product. We've lost out to cavities."

Exec 2: "What about grown ups? People who either brush before sleeping or don't really care what happens to their teeth."

Exec 1: "Well...they used to think it was cool to always have a bottle of cola in the refrigerator. That is, until all the aunties started following stupid diets. And now the whole pesticide issue, so even the uncles have switched from rum n coke to gin n tonic."

Exec 2: "Damn farmers with degrees in chemistry! So what now?"

Exec 3: "umm...I have an idea. What about the youth? They don't give tuppence bout what anyone says anyway...and they sure don't seem to care about what goes in..."

Exec 1&2: "aaaah"

With this started the whole youth campaign. GenX= Generation Next, followed by GenY= Generation Youth(I'm guessing). I would forgive someone for thinking these were gene-altering beverages.
This brings us to Youngistaan, or rather, Dumbistaan(courtesy, M from M&M). Acknowledging our "cool" quotient isn't going to get you any consumers.

Colas are BEVERAGES!!!!! They DO NOT determine whether I'm cool or not. These ads are trying to take peer pressure to another level altogether. I like colas. I like colas because:
1. They are cold(sometimes)
2. They are sweet.
3. They are fizzy(although i know a lot of people who wait for their cola to go flat before drinking it)
and most importantly....
4. these things are LOADED with caffeine!!!!! and everyone knows Caffeine+Sucrose= major adrenaline rush
*author's note- you're just dumb if you didn't know why you're insomniac after a bottle of pepsi...they say refreshing...i say Caffeine Addiction.

I am under no illusion whatsoever that colas:
1. make me "Cooler" than Bollywood stars(ref: Uncle)
2. are more desirable than my significant other(ref: Thumbs Up TVCs)
3. make me so convincing as an extra-terrestrial that parents are no more an obstacle in my love/sex life

so seriously, the day any of my "peers" starts giving a damn about whether I drink a cola or not, I'll eat "my can", I promise!

My Virtual Umbilical Cord (and no, this is not about the progress in medical technology!)

2007-11-03T10:53:00.003+05:30

The age of the global citizen...half my childhood buddies are all over the world...i know at least one person in every continent(maybe even antarctica..i wudn't be surprised) friendships made for life...with only a geographical barrier...bridged by something as technological as the internet.

Technology and relationships don't mix, like cold steel and heartfelt warmth maybe? Well, I'd beg to differ.
School friends, college friends, colleagues, friends' friends, a lot of alliances you would best forget but there are just as many that matter so much. My best friend in 6th grade who left for boarding school in Jaipur. Or another bestie who moved home to Kiwiland when i was 13. My first crush who has lived in Toronto since we were 10, but i got in touch with again 8 years later...all thanks to Facebook.

With such fast paced lives and with everyone in a different part of the world it's difficult to catch up for even a cursory drink, making the Boozemail application one of the largest used on Facebook. With newsfeeds giving you a play by play update on your friend's lives(which you can update the settings of to ignore lesser acquaintances, and bring your inner circle into the limelight) to building an entirely virtual social life for the simple reason that, having a real one that functions the same way, is plain impossible.

Facebook is what binds me to my old friends and actually helps me get closer to people I never got a chance to bond with earlier. You may realise that you and a casual friend may have similar interests from the groups you join, the applications you prefer, and a million other things considering Facebook is so customised you can read a person's personality just by visiting their profile page. for eg. Karun and I studied in the same class for 6 years in school, casual friends, but he only realised i was a fellow fan of The Doors when he read my status message. It simply said, 'Bianca is: stoned immaculate'

Friendships are born out of sticky situations, escapades, lurid stories brimful of laughter and tears. Getting caught for bunking maths class and playing basketball instead or talking about your dreams and your passion over a cup of coffee while watching a beautiful sunset cannot be recreated even with the best graphics. We bond through sharing good times and the not-so-good (rather horrible, horrendous and torturous) ones and this is not an emotion that transmits through an LCD screen. So when you think about it, Facebook is nothing close to the real thing, but it's one hell of a replacement when the real world is out of reach.

Tribute

2007-08-12T19:46:00.002+05:30

trembling....i realise how wrong we can be. we dislike, loathe, even hate without a second thought. i was told to keep faith that it was for the greater good. but reason overtook and clouded my immovable belief. they said they were good, they said they knew! it was pure solid proof, it happened before my eyes, i saw that last look of fear, of betrayal in those twinkling blue eyes, how could i be wrong? the rock i'd leaned on was gone, but did that mean i should have shed all that that very rock had taught me. mere childish rivalry had beguiled me and i was prey to prejudice. there were smoldering kinders of trust but i tried my best to extinguish them. now, m glad i never succeeded. i should have known, he loved her didn't he? but i feel the repercussions....its over, irrevocable....and i weep...

hmm...

2007-06-19T15:00:00.002+05:30

was reading the fountainhead(again) and dint finish it(again)...but had to give this excerpt a mention....right in the beginning, on pg. 16, is one of Roark's first bit of expression that gives u an insight into his "monstrous" ideas.

"Every man creates his meaning and form and goal. Why is it so important- what others have done? Why does it become sacred by the mere fact of not being your own? Why is anyone and everyone right- so long as it's not yourself? Why does the number of those others take the place of truth? Why is truth made a mere matter of arithmetic? Why is everything twisted out of all sense to fit everything else? There must be some reason. I don't know. I've never known it. I'd like to understand."

This got me thinking.
Why do I not accept my self-worth? Why must I deny my abilities and fake humility in order to be a good human being? Why do we thrive on acceptance? Why is there is a right and a wrong way of being offbeat? Why does the system get me down? Why is something cool and something else not? Why have I always been told that the competition is better than me? Why does the competition affect me? Why is it that when I know my purpose, suddenly I'm insane? and why is it that if realization of that purpose happens to bring me worldly success I'm eccentric, a genius?
You would probably say something redundant like, "man is a social animal." Well, is he?
Why do we make such general statements?

Why is everything so B&W???
Where do I put my shades of grey???

News Muse

2007-04-18T15:02:00.004+05:30

According to Wikipedia, “News is any new information or information on current events which is relayed by print, broadcast, Internet, or word of mouth to a third party or mass audience.”
This definition is being taken in the very literal sense by the media which continues to spew out pointless crap and we lap it up like an IIT student would a law of Newton’s. Now, news is just an excuse to make money off the classifieds. The real issues aren’t even visible through this mist of pseudo-journalism. I apologize for not conjuring up a more novel example but let’s give a thought to how victories and defeats in cricket end up as first page news but no one gives a damn about the deterioration of our ecosystems.
During a lecture in 12th std Hindi a few months ago, the usual soporific state of the class was disturbed by a discussion by my professor. He told us that he was now afraid to let his 13 yr old daughter read the newspaper in fear that she would be influenced by wrong ideals and lose all the traditional Indian sensibilities instilled in her. Prof. Shukla then went on to say that, when he was young, parents encouraged their offspring to give great attention to the news material of those times. Those magazines had words of inspiration, speeches of motivation and articles of insight that helped the youth of the day base their life principles on.
But now, the entire scenario has taken a 180 degree flip. The mass media is now only a mouthpiece for bad tidings like murder, rape, fraud, fall-outs between families, partners of corporate firms and film stars turning into delinquents. Asking your child to read the newspaper is like asking them to play with fire.
The lighter sections of the paper now consist of a whole load of meaningless gossip that the paparazzi keep churning out. As I had discussed at work, try as I may to avoid the Hurley-Nayyar wedding fiasco, updates on their “amazing, celebrity lives” stare out at you from every news dailies. But the sky rocketing of interest rates of housing loans that is affecting the economy right from the monthly budget of the working youth to the entire nation’s course of banking is being ignored like a weak student in a class of geniuses. No one cares two hoots about the socio-economical progress of mankind.
Eventually it all boils down to us, the readers. We can’t blame the establishments for publishing futile information. Nobody asks us to accept that kind of reporting, we do it all of our own accord. Given a choice we would rather read about Jennifer Aniston’s next beau than the depleting ozone layer. We prefer the leisure sections full of cheesy humor and articles about how to understand the opposite sex. Reading how to cope with our senseless existence lures us against reading about the disintegration of our social system. So, we shall continue with our BTs, HTcafes and DNA After Hours, while the editions keep increasing in size with more and more supplements added to them day after day to persuade a different sect of readers into choosing their moronic ranting over others’. And as the papers pile up the only consolation is that we now earn more while selling off the old stacks every month.

LOST!

2007-02-21T12:27:00.003+05:30

Once again this morning I was faced with what seems to be the bane of every girl’s existence- what should I wear today? I decided it was time to shop as all that I owned was probably last century. Not one to follow tiny ripples in the stream of fashion, I dragged one of my fashion-slave-friends along. She went on about how this was all the rage right now and how that was sooooo IN!!!!!!! By the end of the day I decided to go back to my basic grey denim capris and black top.
None of the clothes I’d seen had suited my individual style at all. That’s when my blatant idiocy struck me like a water balloon. I was looking for my unique taste in the very clothes which practically everyone was going crazy over… I can see where I had trouble. But then again don’t we do this with life too? We try and please everyone by doing what they like and expect personal happiness at the same time. This is why we’re so confused, with the world and within ourselves. We’re trying to gain acceptance from our peers, become the pride of our parents and conform to the norms of society, all the while wanting to leave a mark, make a distinct impression in the sands of time, full of footprints.
The reason we teens are misunderstood today, and always, is because of all this self-contradiction, all this internal conflict. We cry when we are alone, abuse our minds and bodies, all for some respite. We worry, we dramatize, we rant and we weep. If only we knew what we wanted out of ourselves, there would be no need for all of this. But if we did know what we wanted, we wouldn’t be human now, would we?

“Oh, why d’yu havta go n make things so complicated
I see the way ur actin’ like ur somebody else gets me frustrated
Life’s like this you
N you fall n u crawl n you break n you take whatcha get
And turn it into
Honesty and promise me I’m never gonna find you fake it…no, no, no…”
-Complicated, Avril Lavigne

Sweet Addiction

2007-02-18T12:40:00.005+05:30

I knew of a professor of English Literature who used to wash dishes to vent frustration. She had told us that she imagined each plate, bowl, spoon to be a face of one of the myriad mischief-makers of the class. And when she explained the poem, Two Tramps in Mud Time by Robert Frost, to us, I realized that my habit of releasing pent up emotions on the last pages of my notebook wasn't exactly without reason. The poem begins with a man chopping wood to destress, I knew then that the pen was my axe. Over time this pen has turned into the keyboard of a Compaq Presario M2000 and my notebook into, well, still a notebook but a digital one. Everytime i have a particularly gratitude-worthy day or a moronically frustrating one I get myself some coffee and chocolate and let the juices flow. Everytime I learn from an especially stirring experience it's converted into a new page in my digital novel on life. The experience need not be a great loss like a death or a happiness like a new life into the world. I don't have them, not too often at least. What I mean by 'stirring' is slight turbulence in my equation with those around me. Sometimes the most subtle of things can teach you an invaluable truth which you failed to see while floating on clouds of happiness, your sight distorted by the mist that had settled on your judgement.
Blogging is free therapy...and with demands for psychiatric help skyrocketing, blogging is a relief to the economically challenged. Personally just writing down my troubles is such a weight off my head, it's like having spoken to Oprah about it. And the comments you get from anonymous well-wishers is another bonus. The "Blogopolitan" is a place where there's room for every intellectual, every moron, every terrorist and every zen aathma. 'Your opinions are your's and no one can change that' is the principle that the blogging world flourishes on.
Devdas drank himself to death to beat frustration, Hitler destroyed half the earth and Marilyn Monroe popped pills. I blog. Sweet addiction, isn't it.

S/Telling it like it is!

2007-02-15T12:06:00.003+05:30

Love sells. It’s as simple as that. If it didn’t we wouldn’t have so many jewelers selling diamonds on the anniversary gift concept. And guess what, it works! I mean I would never imagine a practical man like my father could buy my mom diamond earrings for their anniversary, but then again it was their 25th year and they love each other…so see what I mean, love sells because everyone seems to be so smitten by, well, love!
And now coming to Valentine’s Day, that fateful day in the middle of the shortest month, it can also be identified as the biggest brand for love, its byproducts being cards, gifts, and other moronic lil pink n red objects floating about like chaos (ref. to ancient Greece where it was believed that chaos was the mixed matter the Universe was made up of before the Big Bang).
Wait a minute, I hope you don’t think I’m another political party with an anti-love agenda, actually I’m quite mushy in my own right. What makes me queasy is the desperate search for a Valentine a week before Feb 14th. This has now resulted in a phenomenon known as “the friendly Valentine”. It starts with a Valentine‘less’ guy who just can’t seem to find a chick no matter how much Axe he sprays all day long. He then uses his devious mind to come up with a plan to save face- ask one of your best friends! They’ll never let you down. And even if they try to you can always say “yehi dosti, yehi pyaar???” Cheesy, I know, but works like a charm. Said best friend gets emotionally blackmailed and desperado has a date.
Another nauseating symptom of Valentine fever is overt displays of affection, a frantic search for the perfect gift with “to our eternal love” on the card. By the way, Webster’s just called, they’re changing the definition of eternal to “a time period equivalent to a month or in rare cases, a few more”.
Let’s get this straight, I don’t mean don’t celebrate your love or your “beautiful journey together”. All I mean is that when the axe falls on it, we shouldn’t find that the glue that held it all together was made of gift wrap paper and greeting cards. Valentine’s Day is not a competition for the best gift or the biggest bouquet. It’s a day to celebrate the fact that every time your special someone calls and that assigned ring tone rings, you feel that tingly feeling waking every part of you, or every time you walk together in the rain, you feel your senses coming alive. No corporate firm can package that and sell it to you in a box. The same way, you can’t buy love. So when are we going to stop trying?