The turtle, the lamp and the yin yang.

(Click click click).. "Damn the pen!" She screamed and threw the pile of papers away. The room was full of paintings and framed photographs of friends and objects. For a visitor her room was an eclectic mix of art, for friends it was one of her many quirks. But for her it was chaos, an external reflection of her internal conflict. There was a pet turtle who she never named and just called turtle. Dogs and cats were too much to handle. The inherent slowness of the turtle soothed her frayed thought process.

She never believed that a writer's block could exist until that particular day. Her half eaten water melon placed in pretty transparent bowl lied ignored next to her pile of papers. She refused to use the laptop, she considered writing in her own hand more exciting. The dustbin was overflowing with papers scribbled with half baked thoughts and unsettled emotions.

Why was inspiration evading her? She made herself a cup of coffee and stirred it for fifteen minutes wondering if she has lost the "gift". She will no longer be the most sought after writer in the country. Someone new will come and steal her glory, like she once did. This thought sent a shudder down her spine.

Her neighbour came and knocked on the door. "I have forgotten my bag in the park again, can you please give me the spare key?" She was used to this and went to fetch the keys. "Do you know crows here are lovely, so shiny and black. Like that new Sunsilk shampoo ad. I know you must think I am  crazy, but they were really beautiful. I would now like to call myself a connoisseur of crows. They have a bad image, just like the Big Bad Wolf in the Red Riding Hood. I spent most of the time in fear of that creature until I saw the Jungle Book. Then I started hating Sher Khan but later fell in love with Hobbes." She gave her neighbour her keys and asked if she wanted to join her for coffee.

She made some more coffee and heated her own coffee again. She liked her coffee hot. They sat down and spoke for hours. The neighbour was convinced that the turtle could understand their conversation and would often stop abruptly and stare at him. But then the turtle was a turtle. She finally left her room after four hours.

She sat there long after her neighbour had left and pondered about the conversation they just had. Here was someone who saw beauty in crows and the ambiguity in public affection for wolves. The overflowing dustbin now looked like a giant bowl of popcorn. She looked at her turtle and thought if he actually understood what she said and hid all her secrets deep beneath his shell where no one could ever find them. She looked around and saw that her lamp actually looked like the Little Red Riding Hood crouching to look at her shoes. She too hated Sher Khan but loved Hobbes. "Was this the tiger version of Yin and Yang?" she wondered. The invisible contradictions seemed more tangible.



Her chaos began to unscramble itself.

Sea shells in my mind..

I stare at the blank screen wondering what's wrong. There are thoughts inside me which want to come out in print, easily forgetting the fact the transition between thoughts and words cannot be met easily. Sometimes I wonder why people write. I still don't know why am I mindlessly typing. My mind feels like a galloping horse which has been set free in the long lush grasslands of a Savannah.
Writing for me is a cathartic experience. I write without any pretensions of an accomplished writer. I don't write to seek approval for my visions and perceptions. But giving shape and form to those countless thoughts and feelings is a task mastered by a select few. There is something unreal about what is going through my mind right now. There is this irrepressible urge to break free. Break free from I don't know what. The blinking cursor teasingly asking me to continue this uninhibited expulsion of words, I look into the deep recesses of my mind to find something fathomable. But I find nothing. Yes, its a meaningless post but certainly not thoughtless.
They say there is an order to madness in the world. Anything which cannot be comprehended is madness. The ways of the human mind is always a work of mystery. A simple thought cannot be explained by science. We all know there is much more to it than just an electrical signal and an electromagnetic pulse field.
As I look into the darkness outside my window, a cool mild breeze flows in. The senselessness of this entire exercise perplexes me and yet feels so right. I feel like Mozart playing on his piano, humming Beethoven's symphony. I feel like Frank Sinatra dancing to an Elvis Presley song.

Unrelated thoughts strung together like odd shaped sea shells.

“A Life that never will be..”

Dedicated. Read on.

"Madam, bas chaalis rupaya, lelo lelo"...."Stupid magazines!!" saying this she brushes the guy away and rolls the window up. It begins to rain thunderously. The windshield is hit by huge drops of rain as loud as stones getting pelted at it from far away. The wipers don't seem very effective but good enough. People around are taken off-guard by the sudden outburst of rain. There is a traffic jam and chaos everywhere, the radio is playing a familiar song. "He loved the rains and getting drenched.." She shrugs the thought away and concentrates on the steering wheel at hand. " I wonder what he must be doing right now" again shakes her head and looks at the raindrops on her window praying for the traffic to clear up and her thoughts to wash away with the rain.

"Isn't the rain just lovely?" says Amrita and looks at her with a big smile on her face. "I hate rains, what's the big fuss about? Its wet everywhere, muddy and messy" saying this she goes back to sipping her coffee. She was lying, trying to hide the real reason behind this hatred. Amrita just looks at her annoyingly and says "You are the most unromantic person ever!" She smiles nonchalantly with a mock approval. "Wait till you meet this I set you up with, you'll just love him." She rolls her eyes, "This is what you said about Dev, and I loved it when he left unannounced from the dinner table, it meant less torture from all the unnecessary garrulity." Amrita with a scowl on her face, "You called him a shitface with verbal diarrhoea!!" She laughed and said, "It was bloody apt, wasn't it? Give it up Amrita, its not gonna happen." Amrita gets a call from her daughter and leaves. She goes back to being her broody self.

Its 6 in the morning and she's been putting the alarm on her cell on snooze for over half an hour. Finally wakes up at 6:15, grudgingly goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She's again flooded by some memories. Splashes her face with cold water and begins brushing mechanically. 6:45 am and the thoughts are still there, making no sign of leaving her alone. She takes a shower and puts music on full volume. Rammstein at 7 in the morning, she laughs to herself.

"Bread butter jam, I don't cook ham.

I eat vegetables but not animals that live in stables.

I don't mind eggs but not creatures with legs.."

She sings automatically as she enters the kitchen and immediately regrets it. She had stopped making such ridiculous poems many years ago, let alone singing them. But this morning was different, her thoughts of him were stronger. "Dammit, what's wrong with me?!!" she screams at herself. She goes to the medicine shelf and takes out the bottle of anti depressants, which never really worked for her and pops 4 pills into her mouth and swallows them without having water. "Work and work alone.." had become the new motto in her life, leaving little time for family, friends or life.

The telephone rings, she runs to answer it, happy about the distraction. “We have the results, got the imaging data analysed and the significant values checked. Looks pretty much like you had predicted it. This is big you know. Congratulations. You must celebrate." She is elated and is about to start singing again but she fights that urge. She calls up her mom and tells her about the news. She is extremely happy and almost cries out of joy. She calls up Amrita asking her if she can meet her. Amrita is only too happy to oblige taking half a day off from work. They go off to a bar and have some drinks. She tells Amrita the good news, who is also very happy for her. "Hey its getting late, I promised Rajesh that I'll be back home for dinner, I hope you don't mind, I would have really loved to stay...” saying this she indicates that its time for them to leave the bar and head home.

There is something about getting drunk and being alone. Well, she wasn't technically alone if you count her two dogs and a cat. "My lovely beasts.." she would adoringly call them but not today. She is not able to exercise enough control over her mind and repress those thoughts which she'd been doing forever. She sits in her balcony with tears streaming down her face. Her loneliness had come back to haunt her. There was no one to share her happiness with and that made her reminiscent of her past and that fateful decision.

"If only.." she said to herself out loud for the first time since that day. Maybe it was her way of gifting him by acknowledging her horrendous mistake. "This is the perhaps the best gift I can ever give you at this point of time." She looks up at the night sky with a sad smile asking Him to watch over him.

Just like that..

"A woman on the road wearing bright blue jeans, red top with a black bindi on her forehead, orange flowers in her hair and anklets on her feet. She is waiting on the bustop chatting incessantly on her cell. Horror, shock, disgust and then pure amazement.
Here was a woman who was caught in translation between being a typical lower middle class South Indian woman and an aspiring woman who wants to get somewhere in life. It was a quixotic mixture of traditionalism spiced with modernity. She might have failed miserably when it came to fashion etiquette but she scored full points for exerting her individuality no matter how garish it would seem to you and me."



So read one of my unfinished posts which never saw the light of the day and I lost that chain of thought forever. Maybe that's why I am blogging as someone asked me to capture the memories. Among the many other things I want to write about, this one is about a bus journey.

Lily Allen was crooning in my headphones and I was looking out of the window, cool breeze hitting my face. I had blanked out the noise around me, just observing. A middle aged woman with huge red bindi and many bangles sat next to me. She had the look of a chihuahua. In front of me sat an old woman in a burqa who was having trouble getting the change for her bus fare. The conductor was patient and gently chided her. A young college student was sitting next to her constantly blabbering on her cell and blushing. I could see people pushing and shoving and I was grateful for my window seat. In a matter of 15 minutes three very different women along with me came face to face with each other. We never spoke but we all had made eye contact at some point. I don't know and I will never know what they thought of me but I was just amazed at the radically different lives each of us led and yet we were together for some obscure bus ride. It was humbling.

As I sat there thinking, the old lady got up and walked away. And before I could notice, there was another woman sitting next to me with a huge basket of flowers. My mind began to think of their stories and lives again..

The Blog Dissection.

Most of the bloggers I know are very particular about posting regularly and have a loyal set of followers. Its what popular blogs are all about. Nothing wrong with that, that's the way it should be. What about reluctant bloggers like me? Bloggers can be classified into the following kinds:
1) Good writers with a good publicity.
2) Bad writers with good publicity.
3) Good writers with bad publicity.
4) Bad writers with bad publicity.

Where does that leave mine? To answer this, I was going through the posts of my 'almost' dead and defunct blog. I came up with another set of classification for my posts as follows:
1) "What was I thinking when I wrote that?!.."
2) "Why in the world did I publish this?!.."
3) "Why did I torture my readers with this post?!.."
4) "I could've written it better.."
5) " Grammatically incorrect.."
6) "Proud of this post.."

I once read an article by Jug Suraiya, a columnist and a writer, distinguished for the satire, wit and humor in his writings and who believes in not reading what he has written. He had to attend the book release function of his book and was asked to read a few verses from the book. He said, " I never realized that reading what you have written could be so traumatic, I saw mistakes which funnily escaped my notice previously and were now glaringly visible and I had to read it all aloud." I laughed when I read it then, but now I know what he must have gone through.

Its like watching an embarrassing video of yourself which you never thought was being recorded in the first place. For instance, the cute baby videos that parents take of their baby boy running around naked in the house, picking his nose and blabbering absolute non sense. The poor baby is totally oblivious of the fact that the very video could be used as a means of blackmail later on in his life. Imagine the horror he'll have to go through. Sadist parents.

I was undergoing something similar when I was reading a few of my posts, totally horrified at the stupidity of a few and mundane nature of others. But I also like a few posts of mine. The "Happily Ever After" is a personal favorite, though it has its own glitches when I see it now, but I resisted the urge to correct it. Let it be. There are posts which are so bad that I have had to physically stop my hand from clicking the delete button.

Whatever the posts, good, bad or ugly, they were written with a certain frame of mind at a certain period of time, in the past. The mistakes I made are mine and I'll let it be. This blog is not necessarily a record of the important events in my life nor is it a carelessly written collection of my thoughts.

At the end of it, I don't know if I would want to classify the blog like I earlier mentioned. Lets just say, like I always tell my friends, "We all have a story to tell."
This, is a part of mine.

THE finger.

According to Palmistry, which is perhaps the best known form of divination and character reading, the index finger is said to be ruled by Jupiter, the middle finger by Saturn, the ring finger by the sun and the little finger by Mercury.

The finger in question today is the Index finger or the Jupiter finger or pointer finger or forefinger or trigger finger or digitus secundus, or digitus II.

I woke up at 5:30 am, went for a walk with my best friend (which I will regret later) and then began our "Voter Voyage". Both of us being first time voters, the excitement was palpable. Ale voted first and she did it without any hassles. It took her about 20 minutes and she had the "mark" on her finger. That mark is created by an ink produced by a little known state enterprise, Mysore Paints and Varnish ltd (MVPL) in Mysore. Yes, people should know this.

Now, it was my turn to vote and this is when my trauma began.
We went to my colony where there were people who were carrying the voter's list. I went and showed them my card. The person who was checking it, did not find my name in the list and coolly told me that since I got my card very recently, I might have to vote next time. I was pissed, Ale frustrated. The other guy who was checking my name was asking me about the others whose names were there in the list like, "Yeh Sheerlay kaun hai?" Read Shirley. I said I don't know. Then he asked me about some other 3-4 people, each time I gave him the same answer (patience getting tested). The first guy actually showed me the pic of some other female with some other name and told me it was me. I showed him the name on my card and the photo, but he again did the same thing, this time it was the pic of some 35 year old guy. His logic, the number on the card was almost the same as mine. Either I was going mad or the world was turning stupider. Finally when the third guy was checking the list, I found it myself. It was my "Eureka Moment!"

I did not know my polling booth and the person who had successfully found my name gave me the wrong directions. I am not surprised, when I think about it at hindsight. I guess some people are born with a limited intellect. Anyway, after wasting a good 15 minutes at the wrong booth, I managed to find out the correct address and we finally reached there. All my happiness was gone the instant I saw the huge waiting line ahead of me. Ale made herself comfortable in one of the benches provided there, looking half sleepy and half bored. My ordeal had just began. I spent about 15 minutes at one spot on an average. The female behind me was worried that her date of birth was not right. The middle aged woman behind was happy that the age on her card was lesser that what her actual age was. The woman in front of me was standing like a zombie. The girl in front of her had a rose in her hair which looked like a rotten tomato. I can go on about the innocuous details, shows the levels of boredom. I finally reached the spot where the symbols of the candidates were at display. Apart from the usual ones, there was a banana, a shuttle cock, a glass, a hat, and an unidentifiable symbol which I thought looked like a cat's litter box. Old ladies and physically handicapped people voted first. Finally, after what seemed like millions of years, I reached the door of the entrance. When I went in, I was almost expecting them to say that my name is not there in the list, but thankfully my worst fears were laid to rest. The "mark" was put on my left hand index finger and I was given the 2 slips. One for Lok Sabha and one for Vidhan Sabha. It was an electronic machine which was put and I casted my vote. I could almost hear the hallelujah chorus when I came out. Ale returned my gleeful smile and we were done for the day.

It was the click of a finger which changed a lot of things. That sound of the beeper going off when you cast your vote lingers on in my mind.

"Happily Ever After"

Once upon a time, there lived a gentle King who ruled the land of Glory Dale...so on the story goes and after a lot of trials and tribulations, which normally includes rescuing a gorgeous damsel in distress, fighting a wicked witch and then riding away in an idyllic landscape on a milky white horse. The story ends in "Happily Ever After."

Such fairy tales were an integral part of my childhood and I was besotted by them. But as you grow older, you realise that the Prince Charming doesn't exist and the wicked witch looks pale in comparison to the real life villains. The dreamy idealism of childhood slowly gets eaten away by cynicism of adulthood. The innocence is replaced by an uneasy sense of responsibility. Sometimes you are tempted to get lost in this transition.

Deaths because of terrorism will become more common than natural deaths but the winners of beauty contests will wish for "World Peace" with a pearly white smile stuck on those plastic faces. The Antarctic and the Arctic Glaciers will melt but we'll continue to consciously ignore it, hoping that Santa Claus who lives in the north pole will magically set it right! The Panda along with our Olive Riddley Turltes and many other species will become extinct and we'll say "Tch tch, what a tragedy, they were such cute things". Civil war will break out in many of our neighbouring countries replacing the farcical democracy with dictatorship but we are more bothered about the IPL dates. Unconcerned desi politicians will politicise Valentine's Day but wont give two hoots about the 10% rise in poverty in the country where the number of children dying because of malnutrition is the highest in the world, beating even the Sub Saharan countries of Africa. Girls will get beaten out of their dignity for not upholding our "culture" and we'll celebrate Women's Day with aplomb. I will go on writing about these things and frankly I don't really have a point to make. Its a glaring reality.

Its in moments like these, I wish I could escape to the unbridled life of ignorance and bliss. Sing songs of joy and laughter with Hansel and Gretel. Play ringa-ringa roses with the seven dwarfs of Snow White. Take a world tour in Cinderella's pumpkin carriage. Have a chat with a leprechaun and find out the secret of sliding down a rainbow, maybe he'll show me that elusive pot of gold. Have a romantic dinner with Aladdin on the moon, Genie can arrange that and then climb trees with Mogli. Spend the next morning with Alice in her Wonderland and catch a glimpse of the Cheshire cat. Go trekking with Pocahontas and then a wild life safari with Simba who'll show me a breathtaking view of the forest and all its animals from the Pride Rock. Meet Little Red Riding Hood's granny. Finally I would help build an elevator for Jack to go up his Beanstalk.

As I sit here reminiscing about the various fairy tales, fully aware of the escapist nature of it all, the world continues to reel under the cruelty of its most intelligent species. I can't help but wonder whether I'll ever have my own "Happily Ever After."

Random Rumblings- Unpublished Musings.

"Saas gaari deve, devarji samjhaa leve, sasural genda phool"
Presently that's the song playing in the background as I write. It beautifully captures the earthy and rustic tones along with those apt hip hop beats, rendering distinctively unique. Rehman is a genius and I've set the alarm for 6 am tomorrow (Mom's the back up alarm). Anyone missing out his live performance at the Oscars should seriously consider killing themselves. Jai ho!

I was looking at those various posts of mine which never saw the light of the day, meaning never got published. There is a wide variety actually, most of them unfinished. There is one on Woman's Day where I had written about a quote I read somewhere, "Feminism is a radical notion that women are people." It makes me chuckle every time I think about it.

Anyway, moving on as the title of this post gives me the liberty to flip in and out of topics as easily as Aamir Khan's ever changing hair styles.
Another post is about a short story I wrote about an old woman in an old age home. This is not unfinished but maybe I'm not confident to publish it. So I shall leave it at that.

Then there is post titled 'Youngistan' where I tried to decipher what that term means to the youth of our country. Very potent subject for a blog but alas remained unfinished. I'll take it up someday again.

"Chocolate Chuckles" was a post about my friend's birthday celebrations. I got bored writing midway and left it unfinished like many others. Now when I read it again I don't remember what we did after lunch that day. I wrote too many unnecessary things. I can be a very boring writer at times.

There is this untitled post where I attempted to put my general thought process into words. Failed miserably. Some things are better left shrouded in mystery.

Another untitled post where I wrote about a song I was humming that day- Karma Chameleon. Some songs simply get stuck in your head.

I had written a post on the nuclear deal getting cleared on the floor of the parliament. I was just really excited about the whole thing, watching it live that day added to the euphoria. I just lost the inclination to write after just some 5 lines.

There an untitled post where I began writing about the weird idiosyncrasies of people at social gatherings. I had attended some engagement ceremony and I was quite amused observing different people and their odd quirks. I don't recall why it remained unfinished.

There is another post which was the manifestation of an extremely bored state of mind. I actually came up with a fantastical predicament that the entire Universe had conspired against me not going to college that day. I had imaginatively put up many random coincidences like my mom not waking me up on time, the scooty not starting etc etc to Divine Providence. I just did not want to go to college that day and my prayers were answered. Period.

There is an untitled post where I wrote about various shapes of clouds. Now I don't know what I wanted to write about. Its frustrating.

I have another short story in the offing. I think about it whenever possible but I'm hard pressed for time these days. Blogging is a luxury I can't indulge in too often.

Well, I think I'll end it here lest it gets too boring and my attention gets diverted by some thing else again. This post shall get published. Haha

Yappy Nuu Err... :D

I've been asked to blog about this, rather ordered to blog about this. What I am I talking about? Well this was the most awaited day of 2008! And it did not disappoint.

DAY: 31st December 2008.
VENUE: Nupur's residence.

This day had been planned for over a month. It was not a regular new year party for us, for we were to have vodka! Yes, my friends, VODKA! I'm trying to show the excitement here, which was palpable that day.
I reached Ale's place from college at around 1, only to find her snoozing away to glory on her much beloved bunk bed (she looks funny when she's asleep-further details is injurious to my health). After a good ten minutes, she woke up and stared at me as if I were some alien who had dropped in to say hello (remember ET?). After her coming out of the sleepy reverie, we had lunch and then she took her bath (Yeah, she took her bath late in the afternoon, I find that absolutely normal because I do that on holidays too. So, spare me the judgments!)
Ok, before you people tear your hair out,or wanting to pull mine instead because I'm boring you with too many innocuous details, I'll get on with the story.

Now began what I call "The Party Paraphernalia Parade" Both of us set out to buy various stuff (read lot of chips,soft drinks etc.Did I mention chips? Lots of chips. We can give Saif Ali Khan a run for his money when it comes to chips!) along with some weird stuff like thermo col balls (more on this later). I have edited many details like my inexplicable urge to doze off right there on the road, Man! I was sleepy; meeting an old classmate of mine in the supermarket and importantly my increasing annoyance with the traffic and the endless trips around those various shops.


We reached Nupur's place at last and I was very sleepy and my head was aching like crazy. I made coffee for everyone and it was fantastic! (Its my blog, I'll write whatever I please.) So after everyone had my awe-inspiring and superbly superb coffee, we decided to get ready for the party. We were all charged up, thanks to my heavenly coffee. Ale was the in charge of the make up and again Ale was in charge of the hair styling. Basically, the rest of us, were like lost. If not a physiotherapist, Ale will give tough competition to Shahnaz Hussain. Ale looks like a human being though, unlike her, who looks perennially electrocuted. I wonder why she insists on having her own picture on the product. Heights of delusion!

Ok, back to the party. After about an hour and a half. Yes, girls take an awful lot of time to get ready. We were all nicely dressed up and ready to rock n roll!
Everything was there except the food. So Ale and Nupur rushed to get the food. They rushed alright, but they took an excruciating hour and a half to get back. I remember, Ale called me up from there and the moment I picked up, she said and I quote, "Start dancing! The food will take a while."
I'm a huge fan of dancing but there is a limit you know. Just observe that sentence uttered by my dear friend, it looks as if I were asked to perform some ceremonial tribal dance for the benefit of mankind in general and the food in particular. I told her that I have other productive activities to indulge myself in apart from dancing like an absolute maniac. She got the point.

2 hours into dancing and we were a little tired. Not little, very tired actually. Then came the Breezer ( Yeah yeah, for all those who think I'm a wuss for not trying a Breezer so far, go smell a dead fish!) I did not like it at first sip but it later tasted like Appy Fizz with a zanny tang of course. All of gulped down a good amount of it and we were all ready to dance again. Point to be noted, we were all sober. All, except Nupur. She wanted to cut the cake with a mirror. Yes, that's right, a mirror. The way she danced after this, was legendary. Legendary, because she danced as if she were possessed by the legendary Elvis Presley. She was high and how!
It was around 11:45 in the night now. We had finished our dinner. Yummy Chinese food!! It was finger licking good! KFC can't sue me for using the line because we were really licking our fingers, maybe we were too hungry. So we danced, jumped, pranced around, loitered and then finally it was 12 am!! We got the cake, decorated it with candles, put it in a plate and again surrounded it by bigger candles. It looked lovely but unfortunately didn't taste the same. Blame it on the bakeries for running out of cakes on New Year's Eve!! How were we to know that every nut-case in Hyderabad would cut a cake on this day?

Anyway, getting to the MOST important part of the entire party and the reason behind my writing this post in the first place, which is absolutely insane, I know, but I cant write it any other way either and this is turning out to be too big a sentence which I shall end now. Crazy? I agree. No, I'm not drunk, but I am about to, in the party.

This night is quite high on the list of crazy things that I've done in my life so far. Nupur's boyfriend, apparently was more excited than her, at the prospect of his girlfriend and her friends getting sloshed on New Year's eve. He got us a sexy bottle of vodka which was carefully smuggled into the house by Nupur. Her parents could not know about it for obvious reasons ( DDD:Daughter Dearest-Drunk..A parent's worst nightmare). So after carefully analyzing the entire situation and making sure that her parents were asleep, the Vodka was taken out.
Amidst nervous glances and hushed whispers, we brought a tiny glass, (didn't have those shot glasses) some strawberry crush, straws, a huge bottle of sprite and of course the Vodka to Nupur's bedroom. We were behaving like a bunch of excited little toddlers, high on sugar. We were giggling and laughing and then hushing each other up fearing that even the slightest noise would wake her parents up.

CRAPPY COCKTAIL- One small glass (actually any container which can hold some liquid would do, because the name is suggestive enough to imply the importance of the glass to be used for this concoction); generous amount of strawberry crush ( the more you waste, the better); equal, if not more quantity of vodka (what we had was pretty expensive) and some stupid straws to sip it and a match box.
We were in all, 5 girls and we had in front of us a glass which was filled with strawberry crush and vodka to the brim. To the brim, because we now had the task of lighting it on fire. It was not as exciting as it sounds. I had actually imagined it to literally going up in flames, but it did not happen. In fact we struggled for nearly 20 minutes before we were finally able to set it on fire. It lasted for approximately 6 seconds. It was not the burning inferno I had imagined it to be, which was quite disappointing. We struggled even more to click a picture where the flame was visible. It was a tiring exercise.
Now finally, it was time to sip it. It was at this moment that my dad called up to wish me Happy New Year (What timing!!). I was totally taken off guard by the call but thankfully my dad didn't find anything amiss. At last it was my turn to sip it and when I did, it was the single most disgusting thing I had ever tasted in my life. I was reminded of all the sucky cough syrups I had as a child, only this was worse as it burned my throat. HOW CAN PEOPLE POSSIBLY LIKE ALCOHOL???? None of us liked it, Nupur's younger sis was a little tipsy by now. We still had half a bottle of vodka left. We wolfed it down with Sprite determined to get drunk. It was just not happening. All of us were telling each other, "I am not drunk yet, I am not drunk yet." Meanwhile one of the girls present there, Soumya, calls up a friend to wish him and says, "Hello Rakesh, Rakesh hai?" She was drunk as hell ( she was also laughing continuously).
At around 2:30 in the morning, angry that we were not drunk, Ale and I, decided to start dancing. Nupur badly wanted to sleep and Soumya had already tucked herself in the bed. But Ale and I were adamant. Some catchy western number or some hindi song was playing in the background and Ale and I were dancing. We were not just dancing, we were doing Kathak, replete with perfect footwork! Later we watched Sarabhai on the PC and laughed so loudly that Soumya woke up and watched it with us.

Odd? I know. Next morning, we laughed like crazy wondering why on earth were we doing Kathak.
So moral of the story is:
Tha thai thai thaa
Ale and Pal will perform kathak
After getting high on Vodka!

PS: No, I am not drunk right now.

Poli-'acid'-itize..

It all started with a plain sms last night asking different students, girls especially, to gather near Indira Park to sign a petition regarding stricter laws and stringent action against those who commit atrocities against women. This was being done in the wake of acid attacks on 2 girls in Vijayawada, one of whom is battling for her life. So far, so good. I slept last night thinking that something constructive will be done the next day and I had the opportunity to show my solidarity for the cause. I enthusiastically messaged many female friends of mine and finally went to bed.
I started for college earlier than usual ( I normally end up missing the first hour, intentionally or unintentionally). Once I reached, I told every girl I know to come to Indira Park. The lecturer in charge of this event(Ms S) asked me to gather few more students to which I gladly agreed. After a lot of cajoling and convincing, many girls agreed. Many were ready to come, but ultimately just 20 of us made it to Indira Park(some lecturers played spoilsport by not allowing students to leave classes). I could have become disheartened, but I thought atleast a few of us would voice our concern. Little did I know that I was horribly wrong.


We reached Indira Park at around 10:30, the event was supposed to start by 10:30 and we were bang on time. We went to the place where it was supposed to take place. The woman who had asked our college students to come there was an ex-lecturer of our college. She immediately came up to us and made us sit in the front row. Ms S was yet to come as she was busy gathering few more students at the college. Meanwhile, the ex lecturer came up to us and asked us if any of us would be interested to air our views. All my friends asked me to do it and I agreed.
So we sat there waiting...waiting..waiting. It was now 11:30. We had a lab at 1. The stage was still being decorated. The mikes were still being tested( HELLO,HELLO 123!! went on for an annoying 10 minutes) To make matters worse, they started playing weird songs singing praises of "Praja-rajyam" (Chiranjeevi's political party) at such a high volume that I could feel the sound vibrations. Just when I thought that I had gone partially deaf, the music stopped. By this time I was extremely pissed. Then, out of no where we saw a truckload of women get down and make there way to the seats. These women were villagers from different areas who had come there to watch their so called cinematic "hero" Chiranjeevi.I was baffled, then it hit me like a cold hard stone. This was not an event to support those girl students who were victims of brutal attacks, but a party campaign for praja rajyam. When it struck me, I read the poster in telugu a little more carefully and it confirmed my suspicions. By now a bunch of folk singers got onto the stage and started singing( making strange incoherent noises would be more appropriate) at the top of their lungs. I was beginning to get wary of the whole thing and I had made up my mind to never vote for a person who had no respect for someone's else's time. I had made all those friends of mine to bunk the classes for this and the way it was going on was not looking good to me at all. I was mentally picturising myself kicking Chiranjeevi's shins and breaking his bones, just the way he beats up the bad guys to pulp in his absolutely senseless movies. I now totally regretted my decision to come there. Most of my friends got up and left when they saw that we were the only students present there. Just 5 or 6 of us were left. I wanted to leave as well as I felt totally cheated. But the ex lecturer wouldn't let me leave saying that the purpose would not be served if I left. Ms S finally reached the venue and the look on my face made it very apparent to her that this was a very bad idea. Both of them now started trying to convince me and my friends to stay. The ex lecturer said that those village women had been made to come because for someone like Chiranjeevi to "grace" a particular event, enough crowd should be gathered.( Balls to him! I thought). After dilly dallying there for another 15 minutes, we finally decided to leave. We were just in time for the lab mercifully.

I have briefed out a first hand account of how an issue is politicized in this country. The women who had gathered there had no idea about the girl student Swapnika who was battling for her life. They had no clue about Srilakshmi who was brutally hacked to death by her stalker in broad daylight, in front of her classmates. Nor did they know about Ayesha who was pushed to her death from her hostel balcony and later her head was smashed with a boulder, just to make sure she was actually dead.
There are many such ghastly incidents. But this was cleverly circumvented into a political agenda with a rally comprising these illiterate women. As I watched the hapless faces of many women who had come there, I couldn't help but think how hopeless our political system was. These politicians thrive on the gullibility of these ignorant people and piggy back their way to the top, conveniently forgetting the promises made, which we educated people call the "political rhetoric". How easily these people get fooled by it all and we educated people actually pride ourselves in seeing through the sham.
I felt sick to my stomach when I saw that the whole premise of the event was just a political propaganda and nothing else. I was rendered deeply sad by the fact that whether we like it or not, it is us, who elect these blood sucking leeches to power. Its a miserable tragedy where we are forced to choose a lesser evil and hope for the best. I'm totally disillusioned today and I have every reason to be so.

I have a dream..

Just a song which I thought I'll share


I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder, of a fairytale
You can take the future, even if you fail
I believe in angels,
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels,
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream - I have a dream
I have a dream, a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream - I have a dream
I'll cross the stream - I have a dream
I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairytale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream - I have a dream
I'll cross the stream - I have a dream

-a soulful rendition by ABBA

The woman who got up again..

These past 4 days, I was (and still am), angry, frustrated, pissed or any other term which you would associate with sheer fury when I learnt about the attacks in Mumbai. But today after an extremely tiring day, as I sat down to read the newspaper, a small story of courage shown by one of the terror victims moved me so much that I cried inconsolably and my eyes are moist still.

This is the extraordinary story of Ameena Begum:

Shanu Begum, her husband Abdul Rehman, thier daughter Ameena Begum and her niece were waiting for for the Devgiri Express at the CST station in Mumbai to return to their hometown of Nizamabad, here in AP.
At around 10:15 in the night 2 armed terrorists entered the CST station and open fired at all those unsuspecting people. Instinctively everyone ducked to the ground for safety. But Ameena got up, to bring her father who had suffered bullet injuries to his knees. She was hit by the bullets but was still alive.
Suddenly, she realized that her niece was missing, and then she lifted herself up to bring her niece to safety. She was hit by the bullets again, this time she did not get up again. She suffered injuries to her head, chest, stomach and her teeth fell on the platform when one of the bullets hit her in the jaw.
"Ameena asked for water and breathed her last in my arms within a few seconds after consuming water." the wailing mother cried.


Ameena Begum was 20 years old. She was not trained in mortal combat. I'm sure her job description, if she did have one,had nothing about facing adversities like death. She was not a NSG commando, she was not an army jawan or a police officer, many of who carried out their esteeemed duty in sacrificing their lives. What made Ameena different, was that she was an ordinary citizen like you and me.

Her story has filled me with emotions that I can't fathom. I don't consider myself competent enough to pay a homage, that she rightfully deserves. But I shall try:

Today, I write with all my soul
With tears flowing down my cheeks
like never before..
A heart wrenching cry comes out
from deep within my core,
to salute a woman so pure..
She took in as much pain as she could endure..
had fallen once but got up again,
despite her frail body screaming- no more..


Now her death is a number,
in the many facts and figures around those who lay slain..
This humble poem is a tribute to her indomitable spirit,
her sacrifice wont go in vain..
Because,
the world may never know her,
but her courage will always be remembered by me..
For, I know, being the same age as her,
I am not as brave as she..

A View From Outside...

Its been more than 60 hours now and the siege over the Taj seems to have ended. I did not want to blog about anything but this certainly made me change my mind. To say that it did not affect me would be an outright lie. But to also claim that I can understand what an ordinary Mumbaikar is going through, would again be a lie.
For most of us outside Mumbai, it was three days of television drama which even the perverse show like Big Boss cannot match. I'm talking about my friends and many of the people I know here. Everybody condemned it and made some politically correct statements. But none admitted that it did not make any difference to their lives. Which for a fact, is true.
The conversation was something like this..
Me: "Did you hear about the attacks??"
Friend: "Haan..In Mumbai."
Me: "I was shocked!!"
Friend: "Yeah, me too( makes a sad face)."
Another Friend: "What attacks?"
Me:(flabbergasted) "You don't know!?"
AF: " No, I did not watch the news, nor did I read the paper."
Me:(trying to control my anger-I don't know why I was angry) " There were terror attacks in Mumbai"
Af:(Totally aghast)" Omg! Really?!"
By this time the lecturer had entered and the conversation could not proceed any further. The lecturer came in and went on with the lecture like a zombie and we just sat and stared. All the while I was thinking about the latest developments in Mumbai but my friends did not share the same anxiety. After a while I forgot about it too. We went about making fun of the lecturers, smsing funny msgs, singing and pulling each others legs.
It was so easy to forget about it.
"How do you motivate people to agitate when they have no personal connection to the atrocity?" Another question which I asked myself after letting go a bit of the anger, " Who am I to question people's ability to move on despite such heinous acts of terror?" I'll share a bit of the mail that my project guide wrote to me from Mumbai

"you are dot right, about indifference and "spirit". most of us are complete cowards (myself included). there is no dignity in such deaths; the only commendable thing people do is not abstain from their work but forge right ahead the very next day. whether out of necessity or defiance, the motives can be different."

Somewhere, deep down, I know that this doesn't affect me much. But I refuse to accept it. I remember feeling like an idiot when I was walking down the streets of Hyderabad with a placard in my hands condemning the blasts, a year ago. I was constantly experiencing mixed emotions, emotions of pride, foolishness and hopelessness of it all. People had gathered there for different motives. Some were like me, others wanted to come on TV and claim their 15 minutes of fame. Some others had come because their friends were there and they did not want to look bad in front of them by their absence.
Yes,people are different and each has his or her own agenda. But what the situation demands, is to forge those differences and find a common platform.

Mumbai will bounce back for sure. But this time it has to make sure that this never ever happens again. The true spirit of any city does not lie in being able to get back to normalcy, it lies in being able to move on and annihilate those sources which caused so much agony.
A brave NSG commando said," Hamare liye kuch mushkil nahi hai.." with a smile on his face. It brought a tear to my eye. I salute all those bravehearts and I sing a silent prayer for Mumbai.

"Whether or not a terrorist should be forgiven, should be left to God but fixing their appointment with God is our responsiblity." -Indian Army. AMEN.

"Gray-Fashion"

I never liked the colour gray as a kid. I was crazy about painting and drawing but I seldom used that colour. It was a very dull colour, lifeless and boring, unlike the lively yellow, vibrant orange,soothing blue or a bashful red. But today, my respect for this colour has grown bountifully.
Why? Well the answer is pretty simple. As a kid your world is either black or white, wrong or right. Simple and sweet. But this myth gets shattered as you grow older and the childhood innocence begins to wane away until its totally gone. This is when you realize that life in reality is Gray.
I watched the movie Fashion today,first day first show. It was totally worth it. Its not in the league of Dark Knight but then again, movies like DK aren't made every other day. What this movie essentially depicts is the dark truth behind the razzmatazz of the glitzy world of fashion. The movie talks about everything from the hassles of a struggling model, casting couch, gay designers, ego maniacal super models, plagiarism, wardrobe malfunctions, drugs, alcohol, rehabs, promiscuity etc. Basically anything which you would associate with the fashion or the glamour industry has been dealt with, in the movie.
Without giving much away, what I'd like to add is that this movie will make u think. In this industry, one can reach dizzying heights but the fall is equally abysmal. The lead role of Meghna Mathur, essayed by Priyanka Chopra, experiences tremendous highs and lows in her career. How she ultimately gets on with her life and career is the main focus of the film. The character of Shonali enacted by Kangana Ranaut is another highlight of the movie.It is based on the life of the doomed model Geetanjali Nagpal (though the makers vehemently deny it!!) There are many more well written characters in the movie, but I don't want this to be a spoiler.
What I appreciated was the level of maturity and sensiblity shown by the director when he depicted the issue of "closet-gays". Not everyone has the courage to accept the truth and publicly come out in the open. Do we condemn such people? Or do we blame ourselves for being so narrow minded as a society? Its an open question which arose in my mind while watching the movie.
This movie has many high points and one can see the amount of effort and research gone into the making of the movie,like the instance of plagiarism where clothes from some cheap stall in downtown Bangkok are passed of as original designer wear by a smart designer. The dialogues are good too, the movie shows you why models are treated like "hangers". It does get a tad bit filmy here and there, but that can be ignored overall.In this fashion world, you can become a star over night if you are ready to relinquish certain morals and principles. There are exceptions in reality but this is the sad truth in general.
What I took away from the movie is that its important to get your priorities in life, right. It is important to get up and move on when you fall. It is very important to exorcise your inner demons and forgive yourself. Most important of them all, was to face to your fears. It is a very hard thing to do.
In the fashion world, the show will go on despite the "showstoppers". Didn't get it?? Go watch the movie.

The Great Indian Terror Tamasha-"The Unforgettable Tour"

RATING SCALE:

Excellent:*****
Good:****
Above average:***
Tolerable:**
Useless:*

CAST:The members of the newly formed IM(Indian Mujahideen).
DIRECTOR(S): SIMI-Students of Islamic Movement of India.
PRODUCER(S): 1)Hizb ul Mujahideen(HM)
2)Inter Services Intelligence(ISI)
3)Lashkar-e-Taiba/Lashkar-e-Toiba/Lashkar-e-Tayyaba/Lashkar-e-Tayyiba/
Lashkar-i-Taiba (LeT)
4)Al-Qaeda/al-Qaida/al-Qa`ida/al-Qa`idah.
(If there are any other possible combinations known to the above mentioned names of the organisations,the readers are most welcome to enlighten us.)

If the name of any other terrorist organisation has been left out,then the error is seriously regretted as there is severe constraint of space to mention all.A note of apology will be sent to those organisations whose names could not specified here.

PRESENT VENUE: New Delhi
Connaught Place,Greater Kailash M Block market,Ghaffar market in Karol Bagh.
TIME: Began at 6pm as usual on weekends.

The hugely popular theatre play "Great Indian Terror Tamasha" began its much anticipated Delhi-leg of the performance on September 13 after gaining immense notoriety in Hyderabad,Jaipur,Bangalore,Ahmedabad and Surat.They give a stellar performance,leaving you in awe over their power to strike in the one of the most secure cities of the country,the capital!
The play starts as usual like the other cities previously witnessed,at around 6 in the evening on weekends,ensuring a good audience for the play.The play begins with various men going around in the city and planting numerous "low intensity" bombs(a cocktail of ammonium nitrate,gun powder,ball bearings and nails,with timer devices) covered in plastic bags invariably placed in a garbage dump or behind a hoarding.The expertise of making these bombs has only shown that repeated practice leads to better execution and this teaches us that important lesson in life!The USP of the play is the practice of sending the "terror email" either a few minutes before or after the blasts to the local media,teasing the officials to try and stop them which showcases their attempt at black humour.The brouhaha over Kenneth Haywood's unceremonious exit from the country and his eventual return provided a much needed dimension and depth to the play in its previous performance in Ahmedabad, bringing about a touch of technological advancement,which shows that they make sure that they give us their best performance every single time by constantly improving themselves.
This time around the twist in the play came in the form a 11 year old boy who claims to have seen the terrorists.The investigation as usual will reach a dead end but this new development has brought about a much needed sense of suspense though the ending eventually will be the same,that being the terrorists running around scot-free enabling them to prepare to enthrall us once again next time.We sure seem to love them! The Govt as a follow up to their act tightens the security in other cities across the country declaring 'red-alerts' for a few days and then the "SPIRIT" of the affected city is appreciated for living their lives as if absolutely nothing has happened!
Looking at the immense popularity gained by this,certain television productions are toying with the idea of adapting it into the small screen.The possible names for the shows could be "Kyunki Terrorism Bhi Kabhi Shocking Tha" "Kahani Tere Mere Bomb Blast Ki" Some reality TV shows are coming up with the idea of educating the youth about the uses of WiFi.Many new books have arrived on the market on this issue,the recent best seller being "How to Diffuse a Bomb on Your Own-A simple and effective way to diffuse the bombs without the need of the over worked bomb diffusal squad" This book was a instant hit in Surat!
After this recent performance,many big companies are contemplating with the idea of coming up with "Terror" memorabilia which includes various action figures of Osama bin laden,Al Zawahiri etc and guidebooks on how to adjust to various bandhs and curfews.
This shows how terrorism has touched our lives and become an integral part of it.Lets wait and watch for their next mode of action as this "Unforgettable Tour" doesnt seem to be in a hurry to end soon.


RATING:****(there is always scope for further improvement)

Readers can send their comment to apathetic_assholes@socalledtruespirit.com
This article was brought to you by your favourite "Twiddling Thumbs of India(TTI)"

Who Am I? Or Rather..What Am I?

I was asked this very interesting question yesterday which required me to identify myself with a particular object..it could be anything from the clear blue sky,the sea,a diary to a humble pani puri..It was a very innocent question but unfortunately I dint have an easy answer at that time..
It opened up a gamut of possibilities in my mind,a very enjoyable experience,as I had to find something analogous to my personality..Trying to achieve this is a little tough as you are required to find similitude between something palpable from the physical world and something as intangible as someone's persona.But I think I fairly succeeded when the answer dawned upon me this evening..
What I identify with is the "Rain forest".Well technically its not a single thing but I shall take that liberty as I've considered the entire forest as a single entity.
Now I shall attempt at drawing parallels between the rainforest and myself:
When you take a bird's-eye view of the rain forest what do you see? You'll see a vast expanse of land covered with lush green trees spread over thousands of miles..there is only one dominant colour-Green.But only when you take the pain of exploring it,you realise that there are many more things hidden inside that vast green facade..there are many exotic animals,,rivers flowing,,insects and birds thriving etc etc.There are many undiscovered species too.
Its very much the same with me..if you dont know me personally,you will draw your own conclusions about me based on which facet of my personality you've seen,conveniently labelling me as "aloof,sombre or snobbish." I get that a lot.Probe a little more and you'll realise there are more things to me than just that,a fact most of my friends will vouch for..
But everything is not always hunky-dory with rainforests.There are instances when they were totally devasted with forest fires or subjected to massive deforestation.But even after a devasting forest fire which might have wiped out the whole forest,with time the entire forest resurrects itself.Only this time there might be new trees and new species as well,a sign of evolution.
I have faced situations in life akin to forest fires but that has only made me a better person,someone who changes with time but at the same time retains her identity.
My answer might change from rainforest to something else if posed with same question 10 years from now in the future as the adage goes"Only thing constant in this world is change" and I couldnt agree more.

The 'Nosy' Nose..

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaachoooooooooo!!!!" n there goes my 115th tissue to the bin..infact the tissue paper making industry will reap in huge profits this week thanks to me,for I succesfully emptied 2 full boxes of tissues in 2 days.
Yep you guessed it right..I have a cold and its a nasty one which is driving me nuts!!!!Your whole world goes topsy turvy once you catch a cold..no matter what you do (read steaming,taking a wide variety of medicines etc etc) the virus that has invaded your system refuses to budge..meanwhile you are left with a dull headache,watering eyes and a nose over which you have lost control over totally,I think its the nose's way of exerting its importance coz normally one wouldnt really bother about it.I would go on to the extent of saying that its one of the most neglected part of the human body that is until it decides to show its significance very violently through a cold!
All of a sudden your whole life starts to revolve around the whims of your nose which now assumes a silly red colour thanks to all the sneezing.It feels all irritable and itchy inside which mostly manifests itself in the form of a loud sneeze..it can be disconcerting when something serious is being discussed(like today when the whole class turned to look at me when I sneezed at a very crucial point in the lecture) The worst part is when your food starts tasting like paper-mache..that's the cold's most lethal weapon!You lose your sense of taste!!The tragedy!!:(
The cold's modus operandi is simple-drive the person insane and it succeeds very beautifully as my writing on this subject is a very powerful evidence of that.
Before i get into another fit of sneezes again I shall end it..Last time I sneezed for 10 full minutes at a stretch much to the amusement of my brother who extracts a great deal of pleasure in counting the number of times I sneeze in a minute..
It wouldnt be an exagerration to say "I've been knocked out'COLD'" :(

Borrowed Decisions

"What is it that you want to become when you grow up? Someone asked me this question for the first time in class 2.. It so happened that I had painted a nice fish in the art class that day for which I got 3 stars and I was mighty pleased with myself. So I said "Painter" without batting an eyelid,not realising that such a career option would be considered nothing less than blasphemy later on in life..
I distinctly remember some of my classmates giving equally,if not more, interesting answers like 'Sailor','Magician','Florist'etc etc..There were some who wanted to become 'Superman' or 'He-man' and there were some girls who were fascinated with barbie dolls and wanted to own a house like one of those doll houses(I admit,even I was crazy abt dolls then.)
So you see..even though some of the answers given were absolutely ridiculous,no one objected coz we were just kids and the answers given were something which were very honest and our own.
Yesterday,after I had just finished my dance class and was on my way out, a little girl stopped me(she's the sister of one of the students in my class)she me gave a toffee,I smilingly accepted and thanked her.Then she asked me "Are you in college?"
I replied in the affirmative.She smiled and then asked " Are you studying in Sri Chaitanya college or Narayana college?Have you finished your BiPC?" (that's bio,physics,chem) I was surprised that she knew about it because she was hardly 6 years old.I told her that I had finished it long time ago and I was presently doing BSc.She had a puzzled look on her face and then asked me "What do you want to do when you grow up?" I was amused at her innocent question and said 'Scientist'.She got even more confused.Now I asked her what she would want to become when she grew up,she said mechanically 'doctor' I asked her why had she made that choice and she said "Because my sister is doing BiPC too and I want to be like her"
All the way back home I was wondering about that little girl and was remembering the day when I was first asked this question..and then I recalled my days as a student in intermediate when I was taken into the "MBBS-Engineer" phenomenon.I was told back then that life is not worth living if you are not a doctor after taking up BiPC.Those days were hard,I experienced some of my darkest moments then.But I ultimately realised that medicine was not the thing for me and the rest they say is history.
I may not be succesful yet but I know I will be happy in my chosen vocation.The decisions I make,whether right or wrong,will be mine and mine alone.I hope the same for the little girl too.

Tagged by "L"

Hmm..interesting alphabet with a plethora of possibilities.My mind opens up to a kaliedoscopic,completely unrelated assortment of thoughts.So here is my list of the things,emotions,people,books etc etc when it comes to the letter L:

1)Love:Obviously the first thing to pop into one's mind is this completely over used,abused n misunderstood term called 'love'.According to me,love is not an emotion,its a state of being...Enough said..PERIOD.

2)Lust:Its curious how love and lust invariably get connected together when more often than not,they have absolutely nothing to do with each other.

3)Lethargic/Lazy:It is usually the characteristic feature of every bored college student like me..Infact I regard myself as one of the most laziest persons to have ever graced this planet.. ;)

4)Laughter:"The best medicine" and I couldnt agree more.There's nothing more relaxing than a good laugh and for that a "good" sense of humour is essential which I have in truckloads!

5)Lavish/luxury:The thing which was luxury yesterday is a necessity 2day..Talk of changing times!

6)Leadership:Its a gift,not everyone is born to lead and its high time a few of our politicians realised dat!

7)Lungi:This humble peace of clothing is actually symbolic of everything Indian..Right frm Punjabis in the north to the idli loving tam in the south everyone identifies with it and it is uniquely Indian.Anything that comes close to it might be the Scottish Kilt but I prefer the good old Lungi(I dont wear it though :p)..Pssst..Rohit Bal actually made it fashionable..but I dunno how many guys wud approve..hehe. ;)

8)Laddu:I love laddus! There are many varieties of this unassuming ball of sweetness..I find them really cute to look at..ofcourse I like them better in my mouth.

9)Laloo Prasad Yadav: This guy never fails to amuse me..he is so unintentionally funny! But he's a tough cookie..brought about a paradigm shift in the Indian Railways.He might be the butt of all of Shekhar Suman's jokes but he does have a thinking head on his shoulders.He is someone who is totally at ease with his persona despite being ridiculed at often.He has earned my respect.

10)Linda Goodman:I normally dont believe in astrology or numerology etc etc(no offence to the people who do) but reading this book was interesting coz many of the traits dat I have were aptly described in her book.Go read it if u have nothing else to do.

11)Lord Of The Rings: "WOW!!" I think dats enough to sum it up.

12)Literature:Mankind's intellectual indulgence! Where would we all be without it?I shudder at that thought!

13)Lesbian:I have no issues with them as long as they dont make a pass at me..Believe me its one of the weirdest things to have ever happened to me.Its one of those situations where u are rendered speechless not knowing wat to do or how to react coz it takes a while for ur brain to register what happened.

14)Lost: It has different meanings in different contexts.The television show by the same name is interesting but usually confusing..miss one episode n u'll be left scratching ur head wen u watch the next one.(I'm talkin frm experience.) I knw of many people who are 'lost' when it comes to what they want out of life..Fortunately I found myself in time.

15)License:I still have to apply for one.Yeah yeah I hear someone retorting "U still done have a license??" Well I dont n I never got caught..Muhahaha!! I've put it in my list of "to do" things which is never ending.

16)Leonardo da vinci: What a genius this man was! Da vinci Code is one of the most intruiging books I've ever laid my hands on.A friend of mine was so fascinated dat she actaully thought of taking up Mr Langdon's profession as her own only to find out dat its purely fictitious just like the book.

17)Leonardo di caprio:Hehehe..I almost always end up taking their names in the same breath.He's a fine actor..I liked him in 'Catch me if u can.' I'm yet to watch 'Aviator' and 'Blood Diamond'...
Dont expect me to talk abt Titanic! I've had enough of dat movie!! Dat Celine Dion's number gets onto my nerves!! Wat does she mean wen she screams 'my heart will go on' anyway?? Is her heart going to leap out of her chest n run away? I wont blame it if it does..anyone or anything in this case wud want to run away after hearing her sing dat track! One of the most over rated songs ever!!!

18)Lagaan:Amazing movie! Too bad it dint win the Oscar but I dont think its a big issue.I still love the movie,Oscar or no Oscar.

19)Lhasa:I feel saddened at the plight of Tibetans.I personally feel the Olympics should be boycotted! We Indians are more enslaven by our fear of antagonising China than the paece loving Tibetan monks n ordinary Tibetans fighting for their birth right.Its abt time we showed them our solidarity with the cause.

20)Langoor: The monkey with white fur and a pink behind.Its a very bizzare sight but funny.I saw them at the zoo n i must admit they scared me.

21)Lassi: Yummm!!!! I just had it y'day..Its so refreshing after spending time out on a hot summer day..Cheers!

22)Lady Nadira Naipaul: The better(and taller) half of the celebrated author V.S.Naipaul bears an uncanny resemblance with "Cruella" of '101 Dalmations'.This observation is purely based on her physical attributes only.

23)Lollipop: Oh how I loved these things!! I still do but I think I'm too old for it now..Nah!! I dont care! I still have them sometimes.

24)Lisa Kudrow: She immortalised the character of 'Phoebe Buffay'-the quirky,kitch,n funny..The series wud not have been the same without her! Her comic timing is just mind blowing..Kudos to u Kudrow!

25)LeT: "Lashkar-e-Taiba" one of the largest and most active Islamic militant organisations in South Asia has taken the word 'fundamentalism' to completely new level.They are creating havoc with their misguided views on Islam and 'Jihad' succesfully giving muslims a bad name.Its a shame.

26)Liars: "Liar,liar pants on fire!!" we wud scream in school wen we caught someone lying..Nothing much has changed..We all still lie n will continue to do so..only difference being the extent to which one chooses to lie which changes frm person to person.

27)Lemurs: Dont u just love those adorable little things frm the movie 'madagascar' I just love the lemur king with his funny accent and a fancy crown of leaves..
"I like to move it..move it." All hail to the lemur king!!

28)Litter: The roads in our surroundings are the biggest dustbins...one can throw anything there right frm a banana peel to unused plastic bags..its amazing isnt it? The best part is the roads also double up as spittoons!!Now dats something to be proud of isnt it? Give it a thought.

29)Lord Voldemort: The most feared wizard of all times..someone everyone loves to hate..The power of "He who must not be named" leaves u in awe.I had expected him to die in a colossal show down but he meets his end by a simple disarmament charm.But I must say the HP series were a integral part of my teens..I've been reading them ever since I was 13.The waiting and anticipation for the next book was exhilirating..I'll miss all the speculation and gossip..Take a bow Ms Rowling..take a bow.

30)Laser surgery: There isnt a single body part left dat cant be "rectified" with laser..skin,eyes,teeth,excess fat etc etc..u name it!..I wonder wat the "vanity-insanity" will lead to next..

31)Linkin Park: I LOOOOOOOOOOVE LP!!! For all who dont like LP..EAT DUNG!!

32)Laconism: Someone told me dat there's a thin line between taciturnity and laconism..Very true indeed.

33)Looney Toons:"Hey..watsup doc??" Dont we all just love Bugs Bunny?? I sure do..Daffy duck,Porky pig..so on n so forth..Best cartoons of all time!

34)Life: Different people..different perspective. A line dat stayed with me after I watched Shawshank Redemption.."U can either stay busy living..or u can stay busy dying." Go figure.

If u have actually managed to read it till here then give urself u huge pat on the back! dats commendable :P...I shall borrow a line frm Looney Toons to end my blog.. " That's all folks!!"

Welcome to MiGC 2

I'm doing this to record some of funniest and weirdest moments in my class..Sometimes it becomes impossible to sit in the class as your intelligence gets insulted a lot but at the same time you dont want to miss out on the unintentional hilarity of certain situations in class..so here goes..This is a typical day in the class in Migc 2(that's my class)..
Enter "a wanna stay young old man" (my chemistry lecturer-who even dyes the hair growing on his ear lobe!) the moment we see him near the door,everyone lets out a very audible groan but he nonchalantly walks inside,comes near the teacher's table puts his both hands on the table and waits for everyone to stop talking,which obviously never happens.He pounds the duster on the table real hard n then everyone unwillingly shuts up.Now his standard dialogue-"Waat wus we doing in the pruveeos klais?" See amma..dont maik noise..I'm taiking so mach paain fur you peepul..egjaams are fasht yepproching..yevirday you musht go home,read aal my notses and write without seeing..then you peepul will becum furfect..I'm saying this as yoover brother" (yeah right!)
I simply stare at him wondering whether I'm back in kindergarten..I resort to my standard expressionless face, scribbling something in my notebook which resembles the ECG..I wonder how the creatures sitting in the front benches,yes creatures,not only manage to stay awake but also manage to maintain upto date notes with margins,highlighting imp sentences et al..another peculiar trait exhibited by these species is their 95% above attendance at any given period of time...they will never give proxy,they pride themselves in always being on time to the class..bunking a class is a sin in their dictionary n they will glare at you if you happen to make fun of any lecturer in the class..What a life?? Well its none of my business..maybe they have their own reasons for being the way they are and I'm no one to judge that..but still..whatever! Lets drop it! Coming back to my sir,he starts explaining the topic for the day and it seems as though time has stopped moving..the watch seems to have stopped functioning and my eyelids simply refuse to stay in place threatening to close down any minute and then all of a sudden i hear him say this(pardon the abusive language) "Iron whore is a mineral whore,I'll give u a list of whores(ores) come prepared tomorrow!!" My mind went blank after this sentence,like the static you hear when you are trying to tune to your radio channel. I was stupified,all my drowsiness vanished in an instant..I look at my friends wondering whether they heard the same thing I heard but they were too busy sleeping..I was just speechless and in a state of shock trying to digest what i had just heard, i was too shocked to laugh..rest of the period i was just staring at him thinkin whether he really knew what he was talkin in the class..then finally the time for taking attendance had come..the sole reason for my being present in the class!! attendance!! The coll authorities had shown me hell because of my low attendance..so my only aim in life right now is to get my attendance above the dreaded 75% mark..n for that I'll have to painstakingly attend each n every class,my worst nightmare...Ok forget about that as I can go on n on about it....so my sir started taking attendance,everything was fine until roll number 39..then he said "rool nember farty! ..fart one..fart two.."so on till the last number.The best part was when the students had to respond to their numbers..Oh Gawd!! I just died laughing!


Next period is genetics and this mam of mine dresses up in the most hideous way possible complete with super oily hair and ghastly gold rimmed glasses(most of the times she wears lenses but once in a while decides to torture us with her annoying glasses) and she wears the same salwar kurta 3 times a week atleast..she's got these droopy eyes which invaribly make me sleepy the moment I set my eyes on her..On top of that she speaks in the same tone throughout the lecture..I miss my bed very badly during her period,no lullaby can have this effect on me the way her lecture does,its like an instant cure for imsomnia,I wish I could capitalise on that,many people suffering from sleep disorders will thank me for it and I could become filthy rich..All of a sudden she screams "Hey you!!How dare you sleep in my class??Go wash your face n come!!" I'm jolted out of my dreamless stupor but she wasn't talking to me..it was another classmate of mine who hadn't yet perfected the art of sleeping with eyes wide open..I'm a pro at it...Poor thing was so sleepy that she couldn't sit still..her head would periodically go down as if burdened by tremendous amount of weight n suddenly come back to its original position..this happened for quite some time until my mam decided that she had had enough of her rhythmic siesta..Washing of faces has almost become a ritual in her class..Almost everytime someone or the other is asked to do it..my turn hasn't come yet..thankfully!


The next period is English.This lady thinks she knows everything but the sad truth of her life is that she doesn't know an iota of the language she is supposed to be teaching to us..She comes to the class with a big grin on her face and after she's done flirting with the guys,which lasts for about 15 min minimun,she decides to do something more purposeful in the class..and what does she do? She makes us write an essay on-'Reasons for conflict among people within and outside the country' I had never heard of such a bizzare topic for an essay ever before..Her weird way of pronouncing certain words will stay with me forever,for instance," Odey to a night'ANGLE'" That was supposed to be 'Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats'. I was flabbergasted to say the least and the way I controlled my laughter when she said that is something I can never forget..my face had become red because I was not able to control my laughter but somehow managed to do it..There are many more things,like for 'eccentric' she says 'essentrik'; 'embalmed' is'yem-baallmed' so on n so forth..And she once asked who's the leading lady of the movie"Pride n Prejudice" just when I was about to answer(I took some time because I was too busy sleeping), she said and I qoute " the ledding laidee of dee picture yees Kyra Brightly!" Now what to do say to something like that?


The last period for that day-Physical Chemistry..This lady lecturer of mine is 55 going on 16..The way she dresses up to coll can put any girl my age,to shame.Everything is colour coordinated in her outfit-right from the colour of her saree,necklace,earings,rubberband,sandals down to the nail polish..everything is matching-matching! Well one might argue that what's age gotta to do with it? But lemme put it this way..You are a lecturer in a coll..would you wear a black saree with heavy zardosi work and eaqually intricate blouse,complete with black-stone jewellery and even black nail polish? Its a coll for heaven's sake not a wedding!! I wonder how she would dress up for a wedding..and if that was not enough..one can easily notice how much cheap dye she appiles to hair everyday..One thing I cant understand about her is that when she takes so many pains to dress up each day,cant she apply the dye to her hair properly??..The outer layer of her hair is black whereas its all greyish orange inside.Another thing with this lady is, she wants to show off how much english she knows and how much in sync she is with today's generation..that's heights of delusion! We call her Basanti(of Sholay) because of the way she talks,she always sounds constipated to me because of the way she stresses at each n every syllable in a word,for example the word is'alpha' n she says"aaaaaaaalllphuhhhhh!!" it sounds as though she's having an orgasm in the class!! I really cant say whether she speaks that way on purpose..but yeah,I have a nice time laughing with my tongue placed firmly in my cheek ;)


That's about it..There are many things that I dint mention about many other lecturers of mine because it'll get too long and I dont have any patience to write about this anymore.