Blah Blah

where are the journalists??

2009-05-15T22:55:00.000-07:00

where are the journalists when we really need them??
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/georgemonbiot/2009/may/07/monbiot-climate-change-evacuation

and for some happy reading, a succinct piece on the mani phenomenon:
http://brangan.easyjournal.com/entry.aspx?eid=3299165

Is ATP a hoax and other updates

2008-09-30T23:16:00.000-07:00

Brilliante Award

First, thanks to Ladybird for giving me the brilliante blog award. She gives it to me hoping that it would prompt me to blog frequently. Thanks Ladybird for that diplomatic nudge.

Breaking News

And after some extensive investigation, lead by my colleagues, we come to the conclusion that Asal Tamizh Penn (ATP) is a hoax and much of the blog is fiction. At least she is not a journo with TH claims the majority of the population surveyed. Though I just cannot believe it, all evidence points au contraire.

I have to tell it for this writer - "hoax" or otherwise - she/he/whoever wrote extremely well, and could weave stories out of the most mundane activities like eating curd rice, drawing room discussions and picking up an aunt from the railway station.

Yet, I never liked ATP for her stereotyped of north Indians, her obsession with gothrams amidst other things. But, who am I to judge her blog, its hers, or his, or whose ever.

But still it was a bit scary to read her blog, because I cannot in a very naive way imagine journos as anything but open minded and objective. (Yes, I can hear you laughing.)

Though some office pals are enraged and are calling for blog ethics, I on the other hand believe in Sakshi Juneja's succinct byline - to each, his or her own.

Blog fodder

Gloria Steinem and Zuheir Hammad in conversation, a link via Mekie. She sure reads a lot every day.

And this amazing illustrations on the CERN experiment. I know everyone knows about PhD comics but I cant help but marvel at their brilliance. After all, what many write in 4000 words, these guys sum up in five comic strips! Pure genius.

Some day, ah...someday, the news industry will catch up.

the rain in spain and other phonemes

2008-09-10T00:36:00.000-07:00

I take it you already know
of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you,
on hiccough, thorough, laugh and through.
Well done! And now you wish, perhaps,
to learn of less familiar traps?

Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
that looks like beard and sounds like bird.
And dead -- it's said like bed not bead --
and for goodness' sake don't call it deed!
Watch out for meat and great and threat
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt)

A moth is not the moth in mother,
nor both in bother, broth in brother.
And here is not a match for there,
nor dear and fear for bear and pear.
And then there's dose and rose and lose --
just look them up -- and goose and choose,

and cork and work and card and ward,
and font and front and word and sword,
and do and go and thwart and cart --
come, come I've hardly made a start.
A dreadful language? Man alive.
I'd mastered it when I was five.

(author?)

~~
via a forward, does anyone know its origins?

Laloo knows best

2008-08-25T03:47:00.000-07:00

Ha, the Indian politician knows best. Now, you know why he/she does not speak real issues but about him/herself and all about his/her glory.

But seriously, a great piece on American psychology and why Obama can still lose.
(courtesy: the office email grapevine)

And in the same political vein,
this time Indian;
another great take,
though stale.

happy day

2008-08-25T00:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday - sunday - felt so long and so good. Wonder why? Maybe it was the long, lazy morning chat with grandparents after ages or aunt's fresh pineapple juice or mum's aloo channa or simply because I filed away papers carefully, de-cluttered my shelves and concurrently my head.

To top the day, I watched Godzilla with siblings (was too scared to watch it at theatres when it first released) and the second part of Happy Days (courtesy: JJ). A dish about Happy Days: It was not good, it was not logical or perfectly made, even though it comes from the director of Anand and Godavari. Yet, the film is worth all the cliches: heart-warming, fresh, feel-good and beautiful. Though a bit of the college stereotype, it took both sis and me with a wave of college-days nostalgia and sis suddenly felt old. Not me!

I loved the Tyson and Shravanti angle of the story and am still humming its "Arey rey, Arey rey". Just been reading up on its making and the film has an impressive resume: fresh actors from internet auditions, five filmfares and Mickey J Meyer's music. It is highly recommended, even for NGs (non-golts). Happy Days was dubbed in Malayalam as well. I am determined to watch the film again, this time from start.

Sigg Sigma

2008-08-07T04:32:00.000-07:00

The Swiss fellas seem to do everything to perfection, look at their Sigg bottles. Such beauties. With a throat that beats sore grapes, I need to drink warm water as much as possible. Quite impossible at an office that beats your old fridge. I would actually be conserving energy if I choose to stock veggies at my desk.

And now that the reason I browsed for these beauties is out of the way. Let me moan some more and make this a perfect post. Its so hard that I discover them today when last week I was repeatedly telling my sis that I dont want anything from Bern; and another cousin who didnt know what to send me from LA because I have all the cosmetics that I dont want.

But here it is people: you want to get me something in future, just look up Swiss stuff. And while you're at it, an army knife too if you please. These guys really know about the good life. Sis says that even the char woman at her office wore nothing but designer stuff everyday and yes everybody in cheese country drives a merc - she naturally felt like she ought to wipe tables instead.

She is going to Singapore again this weekend. Lucky thing. I hope she again misses her bday at home, I wont have to make her the gift I have been planning for ~~months~~ year now. In the meanwhile is there anything that she can bring me, that I wont find in globalised chennai managaram?

Hey riddle diddle

2008-06-30T23:39:00.000-07:00

What nonsense! "No, it makes sense, I am seriously searching nonsense."

The authors of The Tenth Rasa - An Anthology of Indian Nonsense probably had this conversation N-times as they travelled across India to collect its multi-hued nonsense. But what fun! And everyone is accomplice, from Tagore to Vaikom Basheer to Gulzar to Tenali Ramalinga who leaves me in splits with his Meka tokaa? meka toka meka (Goat ta-tail go-goat goat tail).
Naturally we all love the foodie ones best:
Idli-Pom
Idli lost its fiddli
Dosa lost its crown
Wada lost its wiolin
And let the whol band down,

Explained
Idiyappam keeps yapping
Puttu plays golf
Uthappam's my girlfriend
Mutthu's real name is Rolf.

Frankie
I love Frankie, you love Frankie
Obviously, there is some hanky-panky.
Frankie's not a little boy
who lives down the lane.
He's a fat and juicy roll
with a kebab for a brain.

Then there is the bathing hymn:
Sounds just like my mum on a sunday morning
Om havum bathum namaha
On the body applyum oilum namaha
Scrubscrubum namaha rubrubum namaha

This like me
Glugglugum namaha blugblugum namaha

And this like my brother
Om niceum cleanum namaha
Bring out sum snacksum namaha!

The book is a soofer treasure. It has nonsense picked from hindi cinema (wait, that doesnt make any sense), urdu poetry, folk tales and rhymes. Then there are the absolutely hilarious takes on Ramaswamys and a take on the tamil "marma naavals". I am not upto any semiotics at the moment, but for more details, here and there.

haia, haha, heengheengheeng,
none of these mean anything.

2008-06-28T04:00:00.000-07:00

The fringe benefits of failure, and the importance of imagination
- Joanna Keane Rowling's address to Harvard graduates.

I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children's godparents, the people to whom I've been able to turn in times of trouble, friends who have been kind enough not to sue me when I've used their names for Death Eaters. - read more.

Whirligigs by Paul Fleischman

A simple, slim, poignant, heart-warming, high-school story. Whirligigs meanders self-discovery pretty well, except for one part on a street sweeper, which seems unconvincing enough. As the book evolves and comes to a fitting end, I made up my mind to pass the book on as Brent, the hero, does with the exchange bookshelf (not so easy for me, gifted by a favourite cousin) to someone who needs it.

In the true spirit of whirligigs, which passes a smile onto someone. A warm read.

2008-06-18T03:11:00.000-07:00

PDF converter
For people like me at the laggard end of Roger's bell curve, this PDF converter, must save a lot of time battling to make documents. Thanks to Madhu.

Short Story

And Madhulika Liddle's 'A suitor for Saraswati' is a delightful light read. Also by her 'The Morning Swim'.

I am not a Pink, but I like this Red

2008-06-18T02:14:00.000-07:00

I have not discovered my political thought yet. I do work for a Left-inclined magazine but cant even be called a Pink. Why such a disclaimer? Because in post-lib India, I dont want to be defending anything to a high-end mnc/techie pal.

I just like some and then dont like many in a quaint way. My thoughts change depending on my mood to Vandana Shiva, calvin and hobbes, street food, SEWA, M17 bus, Tehelka, kalamkari paintings, Wikipedia, detesting chennai autowallahs, Pudiyador, udipi sambar, BBC, early morning marina visits, BSNL, bhavra mann, Khadi bhavans, rip van winkl-esque sleeping to Suzlon.

Though not in that pedestal, I also like Rossana Rossanda's 'Comrade from Milan', some wonderfully penned memories of war time and how it felt to be 15 and 21 in 1939 and 1945. Some of her other writings like this and that, have impressive co-authors. I love this piece sent by Mekhala ages ago. Some day if I visit Italy and she is still alive, I want to look her up.

On a lighter note

2008-06-15T23:44:00.000-07:00

Red Signal:
Stuck in a train reading a heavy tome on globalisation for eight hours....it isnt exactly Asok Bhattacharya's preferred mode of travel. But the CPI(M) leader was forced a taste of his party's own medicine in a bandh-derailed train. Feel good article.

What's showing in your city today?
Google lists with a simple enter key all the flicks playing in your city. Aint this cool?? (Oh well, maybe I am just discovering it late.)

State of fear

2008-06-15T23:19:00.000-07:00

Weird things happen in Chennai (I dont know about other metros).

Why did that guy leave me his number at Pizza hut, while the others in his gang stared me like that?

Now, who sent this guy to hit hard on my hand and bum when the harmless me was walking on the road and he on his bike?

I remember my roommate visibly scared running towards the house we stayed at around 11 in the night saying that a guy on his bicyle tried to sexually harass her. And the very next week she was followed by a group of four people in a car till our house....

Some days later when we thought the place we stayed was not safe and decided to move to another other place, we happened to come late to the house once after a late night food festival assignment, and one guy followed us begging to spend some time with him.....we felt the insecurity, which was far terrible than the thought that we are helpless.

Hating Chennai was not the solution, we knew....but what was the solution, we didnt know. But initially I felt unsafe only in the place I stayed. But the present area, the places I go for reporting and even the most familiar place to me in Chennai - my cousins place where I stayed for more than three years - everywhere seems unsafe for me now just for being a woman.

Its shameful for all of us if a girl has to walks on the road holding her hands against her breast to protect herself from the sex-starved bastards...

- renitha is a journalist based in chennai. She plans to work as an activist in gender and children-related issues - CSA and empowerment.

Update: I have seen that Tulir does some amazing work on CSA-related issues and there is the blank noise project, one of the few places where you get to hear the dissonances. Tulir has a great quote from Einstein: "The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil but because of the people who don't do anything about it."

Thank God, I am Indian

2008-05-21T02:58:00.000-07:00

a guest blog on Khuda Ke Liye:
~~

i dont know why, but in spite of not feeling upto stepping out, i decided to watch Khuda ke Liye on its last show at Chennai..

for the uninformed, KKL is a Pakistani film that has won rave reviews all over the world, and was finally permitted to release in India..sadly because we Indians live in such fear of communal hatred rousing our cities into violence, the ads for the film dint even feature in the papers.. as a half muslim myself, i urge EVERY muslim to watch this film and understand how fragile our relationship with the world community is and how easy it is for our people to fall prey to what we can only dismiss as 'fundamentalism'..and as a half-hindu, and more importantly, as an Indian (and Muslims make a large part of our demography) i urge EVERY Indian to watch this film and decide whether we want to make the fallacy of reducing every Muslim to a beard touting, skull cap wearing terrorist..

for those who arent interested in the politics of the film, or the issues it raises, there's something for you guys as well.. the music is FABULOUS..a fine blend of hindustani classical to western jazz and very indo-pakistani Atif Aslam kind of music..the girls in the film are lovely.. the Pakistani girl is a replica of Sonali Bendre, and the American girl is attractive in a very innocent kinda way.. both the leading men are great and fit their roles perfectly..and they look good too *wink*

but again, about the film..i left the theatre thanking God silently for making me an Indian..freedom alone means nothing-being able to study or work-it alone is NOT freedom..what i enjoy today is my freedom of spirit, the freedom of choosing whether i want to be hindu, muslim or an odd combination of both (or neither)..

and for those Indians who believe that all muslims are communal, rigid in thought and judgemental, i have news for you..SO ARE YOU!!! by default you become all of that when you defame them and stereotype them so..

i am half -muslim and i can honestly and bravely confess that my muslim side of the family do want me to settle with a muslim boy, want me to raise my kids muslim and would like to see me a little more religious than i am right now..but again, i'm quite sure every other family, Muslim or not-wants their children to be raised the same way as them, would like their kids to marry spouses of the same caste (leave alone religion) as them..the phenomenon is universal..nothing singularly muslim about it..

i am able to say this with the confidence that i can get away with it..because very rarely am i seen as 'Muslim'..I'm seen as some kind of free spirit who has strong opinions sometimes and expresses it..but for a second if you could read this entire mail and believe that any total Muslim, say a Sameera or a Suraiya had written it, your perception about them and this mail would be very very different..and i admit, so would mine..and thats the sadness of it all..

In a nutshell, enjoy the movie..maybe you might be inspired to write a piece as well..

- Reshma

Author info:
Reshma is a specialist in fiction, films and motor RJing. In her free time, she is a writer and a management executive. Reshma can be contacted at Sathyam Cineplex if she is not driving down to it.

Tata NoNo....

2008-05-21T00:20:00.000-07:00

Update:

Seven blogs a day are talking about the environmental impact of the Dhamra project. And more than 70,000 Tata customers have written to Ratan Tata, asking him to relocate the project....we need to save the ridleys and a sensitive ecosystem.

The project's banking agent is also reconsidering the project because of the environmental impacts. Wow! We can do something here. If you want to leave a message, write to Greenpeace and Light a candle .

I am gonna ask for more....

2008-05-21T00:15:00.000-07:00

Turning twenty-four?
You got to ask more!

Life is devilish, often crazy;
Whirl around 'til you're dizzy.

A'int running any race,
Don't forget any cheerful face.

Around the world you hop,
Your folks wave from the top.

Ancient footsteps on the pristine sand,
Many a friend follows the wedding band.

Let's hit the old highway by morning;
Drinking the red wine as we're rolling.

- mekhala writes this for a bday wish, aint it the best?! By the way, I didnt like red wine when I tried it long back at a pal's wedding. Maybe I should try it again, this time, rolling!

An open letter to Ratan Tata

2008-05-09T00:43:00.001-07:00

Greenpeace alerted me to this and is collecting mails to make Tata listen, and we are sure that Tata will, if we make ourselves heard.

Dear Ratan Tata,
Many tell me that the Tatas are generally supportive towards social causes.

Conservationists such as Shyam Chainani respect JRD Tata for his understanding and for not holding any personal grudges, when similar projects were vetoed. I am referring to the way in which the Colaba Uran bridge proposal was reconsidered 30 years ago.

The proposed Dhamra project in Orissa will destroy one of the last nesting sites of the Olive Ridleys, and with them an entire ecosystem will be lost forever.

I, as a loyal customer of Tata, request you to relook into the project and consider the environmental costs. I am sure, the project can be relocated at a place where these costs are much lesser. Please look into it.

Yours truly,

Romila Sudhakar.

Here is what conservationists like Chainani have to say about the Tatas.

I will be beary beary happy!

2008-05-08T01:27:00.000-07:00

An amazing forward that I had to post.
~~
In this life, I am a woman.
In my next life, I'd like to come back as a bear.
When you're a bear, you get to hibernate.
You do nothing but sleep for six months.
I could deal with that.
Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid.
I could deal with that too.
When you're a female bear, you give birth to children (who are the size of walnuts) when you are sleeping and wake up to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs.
I could definately deal with that.
If you are mama bear, everyone knows you mean business.
You swat anyone who bothers your cubs.
If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too.
I could deal with that.
If you are a bear, your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling.
He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.
Yup, gonna be a bear!

Burp!

2008-05-02T01:32:00.001-07:00

Oh yes, I am going to go out for dinner. Actually, someone is organising a treat and I am to join on the condition that I suggest the perrrrrrfect place for an eclectic mix of veggies, chickentarians and a german with a sensitive tongue.

Being an eating-out primitive, I outsourced knowledge from an office pal. And this one is a real treasure, she can hold fort over an entire lunch session going on about the nuances of hilsa cooking! Now, of what use is it to precis-write excellent gourmet insights into an LMS (thats what my messages are popularly known as)?? Ergo, I offer my accquired expertise:

Bella Ciao - authentic Italian, cheesy and terrace seating. A winner from what I hear despite the price (400 a meal) and its location (choked Nungambakkam high road). Benjorang on TTK road sounds to be similar.

For Japanese and Vietnamese food, I am told there are places like Akasaka, Lotus and Dahlia. And there is the wide spectrum of chinese places: dragon motiffed, dark ones where we can hardly read the menu and are forced to order gobi manchurian from memory - to authentic chinese places where the meat is hardly cooked. These guys forget that our taste buds were conquered long ago by our north-east brothers who finely balance namma patti's garam masala with dollops of ajinomoto.

Places like Wangs Kitchen, Golden Dragon and Chinatown are somewhere in between. There is also Sigri above Mainland China, which I am told is good.

Once upon a time, I worked on some ads for Copper Chimney, and I cant forget that as a client, they were made in bad taste. Eden on the other hand gives some nostalgic memories as an intern and yes, their menu card is a writer's delight.

If you feel like ghooey sabjis and gheey rotis, there is Peshwari (Cathedral road), Tandoor, Kabul and Basera (nearTiruvanmiyur). In Basera, you can eat on tree tops! Now, that is something I must lobby for, even if it means having to arrange for transport.

For mallu food, there is Tharavad and Kumarakom, but then what will veggies like me eat at these places?? Nibble on the banana leaf?? Sorry people, no Karimeen curry for you'll. The same goes for Bong food, not so popular in the city. Must be the mustard. My sis once had to painfully control her puke after a fishy dish until her host finally left the table. Sorry bong pals, no offence here, I love your sandesh and rosogollas. My bong friends btw generally swear by Bayleaf in Gopalapuram, when they feel like a quick, homey, mustard fix.

I am really tempted to try Aiwo adjoining Barista (Nungambakkam High Road), for its buffet on a conveyor and tempting names of dishes. Krish Ashok has a nice blog about it. The best part is that your buffet comes in a conveyor belt and at just 200 for a person. Clear winner!
New Yorker again on the advice of blog guru Krish Ashok sounds quite tempting, maybe I will get the chickentarians to treasure hunt for a leg piece in the salad bowl.

Personally, I love masala dosa at Saravana Bhavan and authentic Udipi sambar. But I guess, one must occasionally go to places where we are forced to curse under our acidic breath for an hour as the chefs decide where to shop. I must remember my pattani sundal and tehelka for company.

Someday, I want to hit seventy, look forty and yet feel twenty.

2008-05-01T23:35:00.000-07:00

Now the years are rolling by me.
They are rocking evenly,
I am older than I once was
Younger than I'll be, that's not unusual.
No, it isn't strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same

- Simon and Garfunkel

No entry

2008-04-18T01:22:00.000-07:00

You cant drive-in into Woodlands anymore....I feel a dull pang for the leafy place that wooed our hearts and gastric juices. Actually, more than the food, it was the ambience that drew the salesman, college-kid, uncle and humble celebrity.
I can bet on their delicious upuma that atleast 1o businesses would have kick-started everyday at their place. The ambience was so addictive. Over those steaming hot coffees, so many plans from starting creches to HR consultancies have wafted over.
Woodlands was the heart of the city in many ways....so many kalyana alliances have been worked out there, a friend of mine chose woodlands for its onion oothappam and and friendly green, when she had to meet her prospective father-in-law. Her choice of place alone bowled over the finicky physics professor.
I have always wanted to do a photo-feature of the place - its non-interfering waiters who let us spend an hour over a podi masala dosa, the uncles and aunts who would click their tongues, relishing poori kilangu, at the stella gals and loyola boys meeting there after college, the sales guys striking a mini-lunch deal, the journos sulking over coffee and looking for stories, the occasional celeb face driving in with a chauffeur who would get the order, the school kids recharging with juices between school and swimming lessons and so many more..........
It was probably never the same as it was in the 70s and 80s - the ultimate place for a light evening meal - but it was still very special for all of us who grew up on bribes of channa bhatura and ice-cream at woodlands if we had to spend an afternoon reading at the american library bank opposite.

P.S: the state horticulture society has reclaimed the lung of a land, but given the state's record in turning heritage buildings into steel and glass high-rises, I have no hopes of seeing a lal bag a la bangalore.

Republic of Blah~!

2008-03-29T03:47:00.000-07:00

I am going on a holiday! Well, not exactly a holiday but to collect data for my research dissertation (one step towards being accepted as literate by my dad), but I am still excited. No newspaper cramming in the car/bus. No homey-duties, no hospital visits, no orkut and gmail to check, no books to catch up, no messages, no calls.......no so many things.
Wow....I am really looking forward to this. Ofcourse, I am still waiting for my questionnaire to be sorted out by my guide and have to worry getting the right research clusters, still I am chill.
I have got a new recorder/player/pendrive all rolled into one and am contemplating either changing my phone (1100) or its battery. In short, I am all enthu.
I am also surprised that I got such long leave, despite not even finishing one year with the company. generous, I say!
adios!

Media Headlines of 2007

2008-03-28T00:10:00.000-07:00

A forward that had me in splits.....I hope I get to write atleast a few like these, the readers' will get their money's worth.

Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says
[No, really?]
Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
[Now that's taking things a bit too far!]
Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?
[Not if I wipe thoroughly!]
Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over
[What a guy!]
Miners Refuse to Work after Death
[No-good-for- nothing' lazy so-and-so!]
Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant
[See if that works any better than a fair trial!]
War Dims Hope for Peace
[I can see where it might have that effect!]
If Strike Isn't settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile
[You think?]
Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures
[Who would have thought!]
Enfield (London) Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide
[They may be on to something!]
Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges
[You mean there's something stronger than duct tape?]
Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge
[He probably IS the battery charge!]
New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group
[Weren't they big enough?!]
Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft
[That's what he gets for eating those beans!]
Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
[Chainsaw Massacre all over again!]
Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors
[Boy, are they tall!]
And the winner is....
Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

Chewing Cud

2008-03-27T03:22:00.000-07:00

Simply put the word "review" in your search engine along with your other topic terms to find articles of this type on the Internet or in an electronic database. The bibliography or reference section of sources that you have already read are also excellent entry points into your own research.
- Unarguably one of the best research tips that I have come across. But I took no risks, I first tried it on blogosphere with some amazing results. Ah, well.....research can wait.

Dr. Mosi's Kral is a must read link on the trail of viruses and on the art of how to hold up drinks. Quite like Krish Ashok and sometimes even better. No offence there to Jalsa and Jilpa, I simply revere it.
Anything sells on a day when you are stuck in office because of rain, but to be honest, this one does have its own little nuggets.
PhD comics - it says it all, for anyone who has photocopied the same book twice without realising, will know what it is to Pass with High Difficulty.
Lazy Geek meets samanth subramaniam circa his IIT times. Unfortunately Samanth's writing these days are too frontline-ish, I can no longer read them. Son of Bosey is still in my league.
There is something about lalita, quite like a poignant telugu poem.
Get your cartoon done or gift one, it doesnt matter, it all goes towards saving the near extinct, Panthera tigris.
Thought process is nothing much to think about but makes quite a read - particularly its Ugadi wishes and the Noodle revolution - makes a read.
Fellow Singleton, and I am quite impressed!
This is so madras, so iyer and so funny. As most of my childhood was with these geeks, I know the feeling. And in the same vein, NRI maami.
A tibetan for tibet's sake and satire.
Thulu has a script and loads of poetry in its blood....spilt here, but better out than in.
Saffron Tree makes you want to pick up a book and settle near a window.
And a green cousin of the slightly dysfunctional mutineers. And more green, this time, damn good with ground realities and satire.
Inspiring stories of rebellious people who change wrongs.
Am yet to volunteer with the blank noise project or tulir for that reason, hope this reminds me.
Local flavour and free verse that is nice here.
There is no point to this, its simple punditry, poetic and about chennai photowalks.
For once, I didnt feel like editing a blog. The Chennai Metblogs is all about the city I love.
Senior, neenga vaalga! I still remember with gratitude how he was generous about his comments on our first journal.
And these have helped me a bit or by two bytes.
A London post that I like, maybe because I am reading Bryson.
And something useful for once on blogosphere, must pass it on to my aunt.
And thus I spent a lean day at office, the rain outside added to the flavour.

My very own Marks and Spencers

2008-03-24T01:33:00.000-07:00

Handloom clothes I can live with….. also breathe, like and flaunt. So, it doesn't matter that my mum labels kurtas, "retired man's outfit" or my aunt or grandmum curse me, as they mean high maintenance (seperate washing, starching, ironing). I just find myself in them.
In the hope that out of sight would turn into out of mind, they seldom send my "koni pai" (a sack) dress species' for ironing and and stove them out of my sight. So I often dig cupboards like a miner to find my kurtas.
There are some great places to shop for airy handlooms and cottons – fabindia is not for the monsoons, unless you want to leave a colourful trail and its outfits fade faster than you can say "new dress". Ladybird and other friends have reported experiences, where maids look down upon their mistresses' poor dressing sense.
Anokhi is good for its stitching and designs but expensive. Ditto for temple towers and kalpadruma. Though it is my dream shope there some day and and wear something without the guilt of having wasted almost a month's-salary. Middle-class values are thicker than fashion statements.
However, one gets quite a deal at places like Gurjari, Rajasthali, Lepakshi and Boyanika. The State Khadi Gramodyog Bhavans are good for kurtas that are austere-looking, comfy and sturdy even after 10 years. Their flowery wrap-around skirts (full and half length) are quite classy too – graceful vegetable dyes and ghera lines.
New Nalli is another one stop for most handlooms and at just slightly more expensive rates than Gurjari, you get a great ambience, personal assistance and paneer-perfumed air. And there is Apco for its colourful and rich pochempalli sarees; even the khadi houses store a good collection of them. The best is, one can be assured of value for money here.
Outside madras managaram, I liked the Dilli Haat (delhi) and a friend's shopping from the Dakshinapan in Calcutta. Ofcourse, all this means burning some months-long savings….but then I do it just once a year.

singing in the rain~!

2008-03-13T23:10:00.000-07:00

Rains make me poetic, I have to either write or atleast quote.....here's something that caught my fancy while browing on the Indian Summer Rain. Jeet Thayil, celebrated Indian American writer, brings out the sounds and flavours of a complex Indian rain. Heady visuals indeed.....
~
Oyster-tongue, mangrove maw, the river's rawsour breath, its moist air encumbered with mud,mad with waiting, with grief, ready now to shedupwards its uncoiling of earth's dry dirt-thirst,ready to exhale the season's held-in vertigo,so every fur and scurry must pause in a poseof praises and prayer, as the safe-sided contours of Kerala blur to a dazed stillness before the chaos of wind;in the small rain something fierce stirs the river's grim, single-minded currents, furrowedby history's keel, trawled by the spinning sleepers fallen to its revolving arms - even the changefulriver knows this change will turn vast systems awry - then the true rain begins: random power,endowed with shower of bounty, whips wind,shreds vine, cracks bark, mangosteen, jackfruit,slaps the baby palm, uproots lemon and tapioca,flattens the cowering tufts of pineapple, then dousesthe world in torrents of self-cycled water, maddenedby sea-rhythm and pounding heartless thudfor unclocked hours, a constant torment of delugeslow on the green land, the river, the annihilated air- snakeholes flooded, monkey and woodpeckermute, cats made fearful, cattle clustered -the houses funnel a rush of worried water,water plumes through its own wet world, fiercein its dream of water, and water made flesh by water,a perfect craze of water, the mother of water,of water creatures born from the water in this line.
- Jeet Thayil

A whole new meaning~!

2008-02-29T02:22:00.000-08:00

I was at the Pudiyador, Vannandurai centre last sunday. Wow!!
The place looks fabulous. For someone who saw it on the first day it opened up - an unused corporation building freshly cleaned of years-old-grime, musty and plain - it looked remarkably well-loved, full of life and bursting with energy.
Charts on the wall monitor every child's individual performance in academics and extra-curricular activities. Library and store-room duties are assigned to kids who maintain them diligently. And the decibel levels were ear-splitting as volunteers from Ivolunteer were just wrapping up the sunday's events and games. Pudiyador, Vannandurai is at home and is second-home to most of the kids now.
I still remember how I freaked out when I had to manage a film screening for the kids on the day Pudiyador Vannandurai started. After that I have gone there only occasionally, though every time I meet someone who could help us, I promptly do a PR fix....theatre, puppeteers, teachers, funders, potential volunteers.
It is nothing compared to the ground work that Pudiyador volunteers (balaji and co) do at the various centres or what the core committee does when organising funds, exhibitions, and programmes. But I am really glad that however fleeting and insignificant, I do my bit. But it is humbling when I see how much mekie and and the rest of the gang (manix, divs, swaps) does, even from as far as Ann Arbor.
If you'll have any good books for children, in tamil and english - on science particularly - do send them to Pudiyador, Vannandurai, Adayar, Chennai - 40. Alternately, if you know me, you could drop it with me. And if you have a story to tell or time to help someone with their homework, do let us know.

Pendangered~!

2008-02-27T01:31:00.000-08:00

We are seriously endangered announces a friend in advertising. The Republic of Letters is shrinking. His search for copywriters - good, bad and passable recently drew a blank. Even my howlers, unarguably successful most of the times, didnt help.

Worse is the fact that there is hardly any fresh blood in sight. I can vouch for this, after a year of college-teaching and handling five different classes in a School of Media Studies, I cannot recall more than three kids, who I think were into copywriting. Sadly, one of them has already opted against it.

But to their credit, my pal Prakash and his CD Anantha are not just "moanies". They are taking stock of the fast-depleting wordsmiths and aspiring ones as well. Hop on this link http://pendangeredspecies.blogspot.com and register if you are one. You could also report on this link if you sight one such rare species. Distinguishing details are a must.

And I cant help but rave about my copywriting experience here....hey, its my blog!!
I had some great months in advertising in three different agencies. Ogilvy was the best, I was a trainee and had some serious fun. My work guide, Deepak Deans, insisted that I build my portfolio and with some great help I managed three print ad series apart from some work on Hutch, Jeevan Blood Bank and TN Tourism.

The best I liked about copywriting was that one could stare blankly at space, chew nails, read Calvin and Hobbes unabashedly, sip tea in the canteen and walk down the street all in the pretext of WORKING. Creative license et al. When it was deadline time, it was different altogether, but I dont want to scare people away.

Advertising is serious challenging, decently paid (when compared to obscene MBA salaries) and creatively rewarding. There was nothing like seeing one of my ads in print. But then the journalism bug bit me later at express and I am finding my way through the 5Ws and 1H. But I am glad that I am still with the Republic of Letters and Pendangered~!!

Nobody gifts me quite like I do or perhaps mekie~!

2008-02-26T22:22:00.000-08:00

Everytime someone in the family or a friend celebrates a birthday I get stuck with the question of what to gift....When my dad turned 50 two years back, I wrote him out a very special card as he doesnt care much for stuff. And last year when my aunt turned 50, we got her 50 things with a small thought attached to each.

For my mum and grandmum it has to be traditional jewellery or clothing but its quite a challenge to think of something new for my grandfather, who has an opinion about everything. But he is totally pleased when we get an eggless cake for him to cut at 12!! Little bro is easy to please: games, pop music, and throw in an occasional jacket or t-shirt; but I am still making my sister's bday gift - its an album of her 25 years and how I generally upset her scheme of things by entering it two years later.

My friends on the other hand being very polite creatures are very easy to please. But this time, it is my uncle whose bday is looming and I am quite lost. This man doesnt keep anything for himself, he has to donate anything new to his juniors. I thought an Mp3 player would be good as he travels a great deal and rarely watches television, but I am scared that when he has to placate a young junior after berating him about work, he will promptly hand it off.

On the other hand, I have noticed that people seldom get me the right gifts....sigh! I wont complain my dad's gifts of encyclopaedias and quiz books; my aunt and sis too occasionally pick up the sort of clothes that I like. But mum and me like stuff that are on either ends of a spectrum. As my principal supplier of goods, I really wish we saw eye-to-eye. My grandparents knowing me, play it very safe - money, which is unfortunately spent on mobile recharges or autos before I find the right stuff.

Then there is mekie....I dunno if I have got her anything very special but she most certainly has got me some of my best gifts. Once for my bday, it was set of story books from our local used-books salesman. They were gorgeous: Rebecca, Alistair Maclean and some travel and detective writing. The musty smell and fraying book covers just added to the entire reading experience.

I read Rebecca sitting in bangalore at a cousin's wedding. Remember how G.K. Chesterton describes a book and library experience by blue bottles and silverfish?! It was something like that, I absolutely loved it and still treasure all those books.

Then last year, I got a purposely late, brilliant bday gift....Harry Potter-7. My very own, original hardback HP~!! Opening the parcel and running my hand down its spine humbled all the "roadside" copies of HP that I own. She in fact asked me to read it instead of talking to her when we met after a year!! hee, hee.....well, its good to know that someone understands all your idiosyncrasies.

Then there is vini who once simply pulled me to shop my own gift after setting me a budget and later even generously expanded it. We drove t-nagar salesmen mad before I found the right white material for a patiala salwar!

I on my part simply got vini some stick-on stars to add to her newly-painted bedroom. She claims to love it. For meki, its more like whatever I see and think might look nice on her I get. She dutifully puts them on or on her wall and sends me a picture of it.

Lets see if my uncle keeps his Mp3....

Chicken soup for the single gal~!

2008-02-16T02:48:00.000-08:00

Dick Cheney has a pacemaker, while Paul Theroux was talking to us after travelling across half the globe in trains and tuk-tuk's. Both were in grad school at the same time.

After making such a strong case, could anyone be unconvinced that the average travel writer has more health, morale and fun than most people?! Well, there is always the diplomat who is paid for visiting places and talking with people. But then, luck is fickle!

An evening with Theroux and two great book lovers, also colleagues, was quite like chicken soup for the single gal who is facing the maternal whiplash for having attended too many friends' weddings but refusing to have one of her own in the very-near future.

Theroux the gentleman helped by being completely charming.....he had looked up all the Medford-Madras connects and took us through many including our Ice House, which stored ice from places such as Theroux's hometown of Medford, since the 1830s. Globalisation a la two frozen atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen!

How does it feel not to be recognised with awards?

Theroux the artful dodger: Oh, governments dont like their writers, they always like second-hand writers. And Nobel Prize is more like the Swedish lottery.

So Sir. Vidia Naipaul, your mentor, was one?

There are always exceptions and he is a great writer.

Theroux on writing tips to nubile writers:

Read a lot, leave home, travel, love people and find someone other than your parents who would encourage your writing. And most importantly, never refuse an opportunity to write anything. Book review? Yes. Op-ed? Yes. Blurb? Yes.

Any thumbrules?

Write what you believe and feel strongly about.

Is writing a tough job?

It is a picnic when compared to picking prickly pineapples.

What do you want to write about?

Someday about the British, the way they write about the rest of the world.

On the whole, Theroux was trying to cover up for his relationship-gone-sour with Naipaul and refusing to be rude to anyone. He after all was now a grown man and not the punk who helped a political opponet of Hastings Banda escape to Uganda.

But when the city's social do's coincide with your lean week shift, its delightful, particularly with brownies being served. The city's US consulate sure knows how to draw a crowd.

A former colleague now with them gave J (book lover 1) a painstaking introduction with Theroux. But J simply kept her lips glued. When asked later as to why, she of all, was so tongue tied, she simply said...."he doesnt suffer fools~!"

P.S: I caught an old pal, now with IE, who was getting back home after reporting....I mean what about filing copies and all that? Oh...I can do that from home, she says. The new world of cyber journalism beckons.

Summer of 2008~!

2008-02-16T00:38:00.000-08:00

Its summer again.....the mango tree outside our office canteen is in full bloom and today I saw small little mangoes announcing their season.
I love summers, despite the sweltering heat and sweat. The warm colours of long evenings, the tender coconuts at bus stops, cucumber and watermelon salads sold on the suburban train, and people finally waking up to make sure that their taps dont leak. After all, fighting with neighbours over a few buckets of water is not far behind. I am particulary glad that we will see less of mosquitoes, they have been dotting the city's sky like dust for the past few months.
Summer once meant going to the beach with my grandfather, playing from dawn to dusk at my maternal grandmother's home and the delightful knowledge that no one could ask me to put down my story book for anything else. Later it was bright internships with friends, where work was for fun's sake.
I wonder how this summer will be, last year wasnt bad....I made new friends~!!

Tagore in A Moment's Indulgence:
"Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and
the bees are plying their minstrels at the court of the flowering grove.
Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing
dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure."

the big fat Indian wedding

2008-02-12T03:16:00.000-08:00

I have lost count of the number of weddings I have attended this year. And mind you, there are still 10 months more to it!!
My picasa album is filled with wedding pics and my inbox (postal invites to my residence are banned as they put my mum on a hyperventilating mode) receives an average atleast two wedding invites every week......classmates, juniors, seniors, all racing madly to the altar.
And my classmates (guys) are coyly (if that adjective can be applied to them) announcing that their wives are pregnant! Listen, I am all happy for you people, just as long as you'll dont pop that "when is yours" question on us or worse still launch into the "get married soon" advice mode.
What's up folks?? Is it the economic boom?? Will a recession encourage people to stay single for some more time as Amit Varma says?!
In the meanwhile, I have decided to invest in atleast one or twodecent wedding outfits. Actually my friends have threatened me into it. They dont want me in my faded cottons ruining an otherwise classy wedding pic!
But if you are a close friend of the bride, there is actually little choice, you cant wear anything but a saree, its something like, "I as the bride have to wear one and you have to share my misery".
While I am mooning over where to shop and my budget and juggle mehendis' and sangeets, there are a few other things that caught my attention......for one, most of the weddings were "love marraiges"! hurrah people! And for those who took the "arrangement of love" route, more hurrahs!! It sure takes more commitment and from the looks of it, it sounds like even more fun. After all, you can flirt and "kuchi-koo", as parents and folks smilingly indulge you'll.
I am very glad for my friends, for having found love and a companion for life ahead....wishes for a glorious walk into the sunset!
One important trend is the growing number of parents who have relented to "love matches".....there have sure been quite a few anti-climaxes here. I must say I am disappointed with my friends' parents for being so soft. I feel sorely cheated of my moment of feeling any tangible difference.
Of what use were all the long chats and clandestine sessions on the terrace, where I suggested strategies and arguments to my friends who wanted to persuade their parents of the love match. Of what use where those painstaking cover-ups and phone calls to convince friends' mums blessed-with ESPs that I was meeting their daughters on besant nagar beach, while I was watching an old film on the tv??
I am seeing my maternal grandfather with new-found respect. He locked away my aunt when she said she wanted to marry someone outside the "community". They also say that he used a bit of force on her before finally giving in. How vindicated her friends must have felt?!
And finally, the trend of socially-approved live-ins and flirting and romancing all over the city and cyberspace. All you have to do is get a simple engagement ring and folks are happy to look the other way. The one-year engagement is really in vogue, some are even lucky to have the two-year ones. Man, how much lucky can one get?!
As I am struggling to schedule a particular sunday, which will see one friend and one junior tying the knot and another old classmate's engagement, I call out to meki, lavy, divs,vini and sai.....my fellow oarswomen on the seriously endangered single-gal raft.
Dont bailout in a hurry, okay?!

the tag bug~!

2008-02-06T23:39:00.000-08:00

Instructions:
Remove 1 question from below, and add in your personal question, make it a total of 20 questions, then tag 8 people in your list, list them out at the end of this post. Notify them in their chat box that he/she has been tagged.

1. Name Three Most Valuable Assets?
My very own mind, my family and my friends.

2. If you have the chance, what would you probably say to your beloved one?
Lets go and play frisbee!!

3. If you were to be stranded on a desert island, who are the 3 blog buddies you would take with you?

romila (rustic notes) - for we would end up talking of everything from falling leaves to carbon emissions and will forget that we have to return.

ladybird (mary has two little lambs) - for company to chat and doze. we would read and doze with amazing regularity and never get tired of it.

mekhala (into madness) - for meki and I will walk in circles and never find our way back but we will never grow weary of a new hunt or an adventure.

4. Where is the place that you want to go the most?
I want to go to a calm and deep, green forest....stand in a fresh, clear waterfall and look up at the stars in the night inhaling some deeply fragrant trees.

5. If you can have 1 dream to come true, what would it be?
Oh there are so many: I will want a less polluted, cleaner city with its usual charm and grace. I want to get back to my dance and be part of a synchronised group performance. I want to be 5 again and ride with my dad on his scooter inside MCC campus, talking to big sis of deers and lions ofcourse~!

6. What are you afraid to lose the most?
Childlike curiosity, which I guess I already have lost.

7. What would you do if you found a briefcase full of money?
give it to my mom.

8.If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?
I guess I would, but would I meet?!

9. List out 3 good points of the person who tagged you...
my namesake is sensitive and amicable, can make anyone feel at home and takes a liberal view of most things. I think I would grow up to be like her in a few years. Hopefully!

10. What are the requirements that you wish from your other half?
As of now, I dont know.....but I guess someone who would be calm and down to earth, particulary when I hyperventilate, which is quite often.

11. What is your ambition?
I want to live in a clean and green place and do something towards the environment. I want to dance and read books and tell a dragon fly apart from a butterfly. I would like to write on all that affects me and laugh at a good joke with friends and folks.

12. What is the thing that will make you think someone is a bad person?
Insensitivity to another (human, animal or insect).

13. Revealing one thing about me.....
An idealist, a dreamer, someone who never wants to grow up and take responsibility. And someone who can be very stubbborn and enjoy clashes with my mum~!

14. Christmas is coming, who do you like to celebrate with?
Family, friends....play with children and feel the christmassy spirit and tingling joy~!

15. If you could do one thing different in life, what would it be?
Redo my masters, explore a few things of my own....without the apron strings tugging about.

16. Are you a shopaholic or no?
I dont know......I hate clutter and too many things. When I buy stuff, I am dead slow and I want them to last forever. I have loved seeing many things at shops and might also want them, but on a closer look, I get scared that its frivolous and run back.

17. What is your stress buster?
My favourite songs and going up on the terrace.

18. What should be done to people who make such long tags?
I like the loop, it makes me all warm and fuzzy. But it could be crisper. So best is to make the person do this twice~!!

19. What are the 2 skills you wish you had or would like to learn?
Cooking and swimming.

20. Name one favorite song of yours.
as of now - "bhavra mann"

Passing it on to:
Romila: Thanks, it feels nice to be back and read all your posts.
Ladybird: Hey.....wassup man?!
Mekhala: Machan, do this thing okay!

P.S: I havent changed any question and have given multiple answers to many. But I honestly couldnt think of a new question.

Just another day~!

2007-12-27T04:50:00.000-08:00

5: 30 a.m:
I cut four calls imagining a non-existent alarm, but BB buzzes determinedly.

BB croons: I came over to MM's for a night cap, lets go to the beach and shoot pics.

6:15 a.m.

I am paying 100 bucks, where I would have normally paid 30 to an autowallah. Visibility is near zero at the beach and the gals are shivering.
Moi: sub-zero temperatures at office come in handy.

7:10 a.m.

We are still waiting for the mist to lift and the sun to shine. MM and BB offer silent prayers to the tsunami victims. We click away at the sand sculptures made in their honour......the sculptures look real, this city has some great artists.
I regale them of my adventure to the beach after the tsunami with the tambaram. It was very, very sad and scary.

7.15 a.m.

The sun comes out, fishermen lift their haul and MM and BB are pleased. Oh, their glee makes every useless adventure worth it.

7.30 a.m.

It is blazing hot now. And we are feeling hungry.

Me (still the MU localite): Vadapaav at the roadside?? Soup from that lady?? Sundal??
MM: Woodlands coffee.
BB: Woodlands uppuma.

Me (the 'poor' journo): Lets take a 21G and then a 27D.
MM: Auto.
BB: This auto.

8:00 a.m.

I am digging into a delicious masala dosa. BB and MM are checking out a cute guy in a jeep who looks like a photographer. Their uppumas are cementing by the second.

9:00 a.m.

Back home there is a strange calm. Well, it generally follows a storm.
Mad (sis): Dad cant find his papers. The client has an appeal at the court today and we cant reach the junior.

9:55 a.m.

The papers are made and printed. Thank God none of us chose to take over his lucrative legal practice. We would have been crucified by now. I hope brother dear follows our excellent example.

I dive into my wardrobe and locate one set of clothes that doesnt need ironing. God bless my mum for buying me synthetic clothes that I so hate and refuse to wear.

10:15 a.m.

I am multi-tasking breakfast, newspapers (shucks, that is homework) and making coffee for sis.
Where is my dupatta???

Grandmum: I just put it into the washing machine! It wasnt washed, was it??
Well, I was just trying to save some water (read: no maid at home) by wearing stale dupattas.

10:30 a.m.

Driver takes off in Schumacher shtyle when uncle's client turns up with 12 biscuit packets (buttering up the lawyer literally). Hey listen, it was sis and I who saved your appeal today!!
Anyways, now I have to catch a bus. Damn!

11:05 a.m.

I land in office, mismatched, breathless and yeah late for a production day.
But its just another day.

Copying from One is Plagiarism; Copying from Many is Research~!

2007-12-17T02:28:00.001-08:00

What is this world full of chance,
With no time to stand and glance;

High being the expectations,
To hell with the combinations;

If you think, you aren't free,
Imagine the conditions on me!

Beware - if your grades are random,
High be the possibility you abandon;

Lest, you don't take note of this caution,
I advise you to think and take Poisson.

Or perhaps, Chi, Anova or T-test,
Whatever suits one best.

Drained of devising arguments?
Try research methodology for advancement!

~~~
If you are wondering how this sounds light years ahead of my "cat, rat, bat, sat" - type rhymes.....think no further. Its mekie's musings on probability and statistics and I merely tweaked it to suit me. Anyways, I was plagiarising~!

at twenty-three~!

2007-12-08T01:05:00.000-08:00

With so many friends celebrating being twenty-three with me....
it was time for a rhyme or three!

~~
Twenty-three is so carefree....
foot loose and fancy free!

Lets climb up a tree,
or go on a sand castle spree.

Drees like the american cree...
and go chasing a bee.

The world in a whole new light shall we see,
and explore with newfound glee.

Sail across the blue sea,
and celebrate that we are still wee.

At twenty-three!

romie ;)

December Days

2007-12-06T22:48:00.001-08:00

"Margazhi is here", cooed an RJ today morning. I completely agree with him. This is the only time of the year when one completely delights in being a Madrasi - music, mist and monsoons galore.

Watching his fire. pic by me

You and I

2007-12-06T22:27:00.000-08:00

Pic by Meg, Hyderabad

pain is beauty, beauty is pain

2007-12-05T01:23:00.000-08:00

"no pain..... no gain," intoned the wisp of a girl at the beauty parlour. she nonchalantly plucked away at the jungles on my forehead as I sought escape. back home.....I am red, mum is glad and lil' bro is sad (sans my whiskers, I no longer resemble him).

rueing over my still-throbbing temples, I cant help realising that beauty and torture seem to be ancient friends. history stands proof:
chinese feet binding methods that broke the arch of the woman's heel,
the tamil 'tondais' that dragged a woman's ear lobes until her neck;
tattoos and scars for good luck and the painful piercing of lips, tongues and ear-lobes.

while most are testimony to specific rites of passage and cultural pride.....I cant help realise that such twisted ideas were invariably used against women. Chinese nobles who insisted that broken heels resembled lotus flowers were after all jealous and wanted their women to stay put; while scorching marks burnt a forced identity on many a tribal woman.

It isn't any easier for the millennium woman who is expected to create the same mirage with pointed heels and long earrings. Look at this: an aromatic facial will mean that you can't take an auto for the rest of the week. But that should fit well into one's work-out regime.

For cosmetics that promise flawless skin in sooty metros, waxes, pedicures and manicures.....banks will have to offer personal loans. And does any insurer realise how life threatening a pointed heel is on broken pavements?!

any feministic sisters out there?!
romila :(

mekie is the best....

2007-12-05T00:52:00.000-08:00

A something written for mekie early today morning....
the wonderful weather was responsible for this.
~~
how do I describe mekie...?!
by her name that speaks of mystique and subtle strength?
or by Popocatepetl that describes her awe for fabled mountains.
maybe the lost submarines that make her want to fathom the deep seas
or the islands and hills that she has never really returned from......

do I compare her with...
Jeeves for his refreshing wit?
or Katy and Anne for their child-like charm?
maybe Dara Shukoh for his legendary courage.

should I simply say about her work....
its cheerful vision for children, and her honest simplicity in research.
and her faithful cycle that lets the wind blow her hair,

do I recall the walls we scaled or the stories shared?
the dreams we coloured or the growing up about which we are sad? disovering the Red Indian Chief, and Riot's grief.
old world grace and a crossword phase.
childhood memories and youthful stories....

I honestly don't know..... because mekie is everything and yet beyond as well. And when I know, I am sure I won't find the words.

romie (still thinking)
love you meks, have a great day and wonderful year ahead~!

2007-12-04T01:03:00.000-08:00

I simply couldn't resist putting this up.....ode to an icon~!

Courtesy: Ayyappan 'sir', IE.

Copyless, gormless and priceless....

2007-11-29T02:35:00.000-08:00

Having checked my eight email ids and read an additional newspaper for today and finished some captions for day after tomorrow's story.....I conclude that I am at the moment
- copyless, gormless and priceless!!

So here goes, my very own slam inscription!!

I am

grammatically challenged
around the middle widened

a "smashing" rider
and a green scavenger

mathematically zero
and domestically a nero

a mean editor
with many an error

a financial goose
and Potter muse

a silly twit
with many a zit.

a strange kid
as my parents said.

- romie ;)

me, lost in madras history at the fort st. george museum

Music and monsoons!!

2007-11-19T02:15:00.000-08:00

Sundays are my days......no matter how heavily rain god decides to come down, I insist on having my way. So despite a strongly-brewing cyclone, a fallen tree on Spurtank road and "are you mad...in this weather" dialogues from my folks, I went ahead for a story-telling programme at Alliance with Meg and not-so-lil bro.

Meg is a sport but lil bro is a "I dont mince my words" critic, particularly if it is one of my schemes. So he smirked at me for most of the show.

I withered under his gaze and rightly deserved it....the 'prince-and-the pearls' story felt like watching rain ruin chennai's miserable roads; the 'saas-bahu' piece felt like damp clothes all over the house; and the 'guru-shishya' one, bleak as a power cut.

But Vedanth Bharadwaj's music that was offered as a commercial break proved to be the "wells and reservoirs are full after rains" kinda news story amidst the milieu.

Familiar notes from Indian poets delivered in his great voice wiped the smirk off my bro's face. And a tamil song "ennamma thozhi" about loss and love finally managed to uplift us from brooding about the maddening flood outside.

It was worth braving rain god's wrath and all those uncovered potholes - by now turned into unholy springs of rain water and sewage. But just like the advertisements, however better scripted than the sunday-evening film on tv, Vedanth's session was short.

The stories were definitely warm and grandma's stuff for lil kids, but not in the league of bro and his generation's idea of 200 per cent entertainment.

While story-trails and Vijay who want to revive the tradition of story-telling put in some great effort..... it did not match up to the standards of other home-bred story-telling geniuses such as Jeeva Raghunath.

Story trails' sensitive and timely standing ovation to the audience for making it to the show was the silver lining. Water logging at Alliance went up by atleast half a metre by the time the programme was over and we had to call meg's bro to bail us out with a car! But hey....it was worth it.

~~~~
Vedanth, who succintly compared a musician's trade to the weather outside, has put together a CD - 'Mati Kahe'.

Its a good buy and a compilation of numbers by the Bhakti saints - Mira and Surdas - remember those horrendous music and bhajan sessions back at school. Vedanth actually uplifts them and makes it sound great.

Also we found that "ennamma thozhi" (http://www.youtube.com/user/rajesh29dec) was originally sung by Bindumalini, our Loyola-NID pal. Bindu claims that a five-year-old who came to her for music lessons taught her this number!

The day just got better and better! When we reached home, I passed dear brother a glass of warm milk with some 'grow-up' looks!!
romie ;)

Update: 'Ennamma Thozhi" will feature in a new Tamil flick Kaatru Pani. Some lines have been added though and as B says, maybe the song with its four-line verse was just perfectly incomplete. But then, its cinem-ah.

Picture: Jeeva Raghunath performing at a theatre workshop at AFC. Credit: Moi~!

Pakistani Posts

2007-11-19T00:56:00.000-08:00

With emergency comes a spirit of awakening and creative outlets find their way despite all checks. Pakistani blogs such as martial law and fast rising stand witness. With GEO and ARY shut down, these bloggers truly Pak's reporters sans frontiers.

Run by student groups from the some of the prestigious B-schools and univs, they illustrate that no matter what class or lifestyle you belong too, undemocratic ways strike a dischordant chord with the human spirit.

Names such as 'Emergency Times' are really apt......as they give practical tips and on-the- ground-insights of recent happenings. Their posts range from a list of to-do's in case of tear-gassing: carrying wet cloth and salt to wearing running shoes; to a catalogue of their inspiring uprise: mass protests, candle-light vigils, documentary and film screenings. They have their preamble and an apt tag-line - "please photocopy and distribute".

Their spirit and courage rubs off on not-so-far-away readers such as myself too. Imagine what impact it must be making back home?! But how long will it be before Mush cracks down on it as well?? Will these bloggers be harassed and imprisioned as human rights bloggers and activists are in China?? Will they try enforcing a forcible ban as they tried once here in India?? Will google share user-info as it does in China??

Are there any blog movements and activist expressions here to support their movement??
lemme know!

On a lighter note:

Another Paki case that illustrates that no matter what, we will still express ourselves is truly exemplified in this story.

Here is a man who sensibly makes his cafe's menu a political science class. Civil Junction, Arshed's Islamabad cafe, provides food for thought literally.

The menu here includes items like: Musharaf Guespresso - Not old; anybody's guess! Seasoned & intensely mature! Khaki, softly firm, brewed under high pressure of discipline. It's base is very, very strong and the real kick is in the aftertaste! Served with handpicked cookies.

Others include - Civil Military Mix aka dudh soda - A Pakistani household offering of sorts! Meek and mild civil milk is mixed with uniformed but effervescent soda.

Surely, some great spirit of this sort, sprinkled with thoughtful humour a la Arshed style and concerted action should see Pak through this emergency. I have heard thats how we tided over ours, but I wasnt around then.
romila ;)

Of bits and rain drops

2007-11-18T22:26:00.000-08:00

Waking up with the scent of rain was divine and poetic.....
I naturally wanted to squeal across to all my "vetti" friends across the globe in dry Texas and frosty Manchester with a gmail status. I am just too lazy to remember another twitter password.

But try as I might, google could not find one decent Indian folk song on rain in the world wide web. But it was very helpful with info on rain-songs (read heroines in flimsy saris doing their jatkas in the rain).

The alternative was to put together words and thoughts from Tagore and Kajiri, who sings of her seperated lover to the dark clouds. I could have written something completely original, but I guess its the sub-editor in me that prefers Ctrl+X/C/V.

~~
I wake and a south wind is madly making free;
its fragrance drifts and fills the darkness all around me.

The rain drops fall softly ....
singing the songs of Kajiri~

blog buzz

2007-11-12T06:04:00.000-08:00

Post some rave reviews and a colleague's recommendation I read the compulsive confessor....boy, and am I hooked?! It was quite like Advaita Kala's "almost single" and I loved that as well for its wacky sense of humour and detailing. A devil-may-care attitude and liberal peppering of humour makes the compulsive confessor quite un-navigatable.

A link from hers lead me to sakshi juneja's blog and that was quite a good read too. If Sakshi is current with its and bits of news and humour, the Confessor is clairvoyant, legilimency and pscyhology her strengths, not to forget some great language! Also both single women share their experiences of the M-word, now that's something most girls our age can totally relate to.

I am also quite envious of the time and love these two seem to shower on their blogs.....posts after parties at 4, in drunken stupor, in between filing copies and attending weddings, after a break-up, between a book, from work, party and play!!! Not to forget the personalised design part! A world revolving around a blog!

In comparative pity I look back at my own little journal. Less said the better. While I really am inspired to dust off my 'little miss sunshine" shoes and rip apart cultural acts and hypocrisies.....I am yet to manage the spirit. I think it is the taurean streak running strong in me. I want to meditate on daisies and doilies.

Other must reads (to whom I am quite loyal) for me each day are rustic notes and mary has two little lambs, both are real delights. Their little nuggets about life and love, children and cheer, maids and monsoons are quite heart warming. Their creative and continuous work too is light years away from my reach in the wide blogging galaxy.

the teeny, weeny, huge couch potato!
romie ;)

festival of smiles~~

2007-11-06T22:05:00.001-08:00

Its diwali again....but then what makes every diwali a great festival??
its just great people to share the joy with. great memories and jokes, great love and warmth.
great family, friends, pals and a great future to look forward too!!

And when you know that you have something like that in abundance...you cant help but feel that you are gifted above some. It also reminds me that I have to make an extra effort to share it and spread it.

Thanks people for being there always.
Thanks for making this festival of lights a festival of smiles for me!!

happy diwali~!!!
romie ;)

in the picture: my uncle checking the lamps at Rajsadan

the sibling slam book

2007-11-04T22:44:00.000-08:00

a trim, a shave, a whiff of growing up....

suddenly we realise that we have to look up to meet his eye, realise its him with all the tricks up his sleeve; who turns a joke on us; its him who replaces the burnt bulb, who fixes PC bugs and who walks escort.

its him who delivers the best punch line, who argues with auto wallahs and gifts us on raksha bandhan. (until recently, it was the other way round)

Our talk now is about SEZ's and stings, party wear and politics, smoking and socialism. Our little man has come of age.

I recently bundled all his toys up the loft....soft clay, spidermans, aeroplanes and cricket balls.
each one brings a distinct memory: his first word, tooth, step and joke.

Born about eight and ten years apart from us, he will never cease to be the red-skinned, scrawny thing who clenched our fingers tight. But all come crashing down when you hear his voice rumbling over the phone. And you know its time to let go....

Life isnt easy for him either with three hecklers: one mom and two big sisters who act mum!! When one isnt shouting about the laundry, the other is droning about logarithms and the third locks away the laptop. A pampering grandmother proves to be the silver lining.

But what happens in his life? does he know his calculus and french verbs? does he need more space? what happens at school? ragging? peer pressure? will he talk to us about gals and smoking?

we no longer seem to know all about his life. but we hope he will take care and will be fine.

anxiously,
romila.

P.S: I will never live it down, if he ever gets to read this.

in the pic, the not-so-lil bro

Blog bubbles~~

2007-10-29T02:28:00.000-07:00

Once a blogger, always a blogger.

Story books, sights, sounds, people, hoardings, monsoonal rains, hot coffee....everything seems to have a story to tell.

I am holding my horses so that I dont waste time ranting....but let me leave the many thoughts that I want to blog about.

Grandmum's sickness, old age leaving its trace; the velveteen rabbit - a touching bedtime story; monsoon fury; obelixisms; baran - the rain, an Iranian docu; climate studies; a lukewarm chak de; tehelka's sting...... working on holidays, sun and sand and woodlands, remembering tsunami.

bridget jones and chick lit, margazhi and karthikai and december, film on identity crisis, a ride on the mrts, an angel in Ethiopia- Dr. Catherine Hamlin and pheronemes (have I spelt that right??)

lest I forget,
romie ;)

friends for life

2007-10-24T01:01:00.001-07:00

A something written for cheryl and also adapted for shalu....
dear, old, priceless friends with whom I am sadly out of touch.

I may not always tell you,
But always think of you.

A swear – imagine Cheryl's face;
Cheryl-ism, thingy, thought, colour, style…
easy disposition, personal touch in every move.

So much to share: writer-isms, office fundas,
blackmailing aunts; colourful gossip, dreams, news, a song;
rhymes, stories, histories; the many layers of everyday life.

So much to tell, so little time.
Mea culpa! Not a fault so sublime.

Excuses, I have none; not work, not french;
not news changing by nanoseconds;
not the many roles or the many worlds.

Old sayings, dad's words, world truths;
bitten off more than one can chew;
greed-driven ambition, distant dreams.

I can burn fingers even strain liagaments;
but not let dreams fade untried.
rest without doing my best.

When I do what I have to,
I always think of you even if I don't tell you.
and know that you are there too.

lotsa love,
romie ;)

Sister's two are we....alike as blossoms on a tree. - Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

2007-09-28T01:04:00.000-07:00

My sis celebrated her bday on a different continent and I am yet to complete making her bday gift. A thought that was penned down as she touched a landmark.

~~~
As kids, the 20s were mature, serious and lifetimes away.
Never imagined ourselves beyond 19. Bliss!!

Today, I can hardly accept being 23 and 25; feels like somebody else.
We never renewed our synapses after 12.

I still want to play hide-seek but this time beat you.
Feel the wind on our hair and turn and share a laugh with you.

Blow bubbles and play an imagined game.
Appreciate a classic and yet howl over cartoons.

Its time for big things, big dreams but I want no big responsibilities.
Glory in being a black sheep and never let monotony take over.

I dont want to be a slave to conventions but master of my destiny.
I want to do one big thing but dont know what.

At 25, there is so much to do and still so little time.
And when you are 25, I feel it too.

It is time for contemplation and also celebration.
Also to make choices...

To either be led into the mainstream or to hold high against the tide.
And when you do what you have to do, I will simply follow you.

-romie ;)

Writer's itch assaults blogosphere.

2007-09-25T01:21:00.000-07:00

Alter Ego: So what do you think you have been doing??
Romila: (innocently) Why, just a few blogs.

AE: So why spam inboxes???
R: Just passing around the word.....cousins, uncles, close friends, accquaintaces; who might want to hear from me.

AE: Might......and getting nonsense out of your system into an inbox isnt an option.
R: (meekly) thought would spread the word.

AE: About what..... rocket science??
R: (helplessly wordless)

---

R: But I got some feedback, you know.....
AE: Remember, feedback is not a feature of mass communication. If you want it, here is some: Gmail helps people block pesky mailers.
R: (Gulp!)

AE: Ranting on blogosphere is bad enough.
R: (Hiccup!)

AE: Use winks of spare time at office 'READING'.
R: But....but, I want to write.

AE: To bore people and advertise idiocacy? If you have a compulsive disorder, stick to blogosphere, dont spread it all over cyberspace.
R: (meekly)...okay.

AE: In the impossible case that someone wants to hear from you, there is always the link. Unlikely scene anyways.
R: If you say so.

AE: You sound quick today.
R: Thanks.

-----
Thats all there is folks, thanks for having patiently been with me as I faced the writer's itch. And for all those polite replies. Hereafter its only blogosphere that will have to bear me. Thanks a ton.
goodbye!
romie ;)
http://ourblagh.blogspot.com/

20-20

2007-09-25T00:34:00.000-07:00

Fans hanging precariously on medians, gates and window-sills,
Acrobatics outside television showrooms.

Drivers slowed buses to a crawl to read the score
Crackers made feverish sales.

Mysterious illness afflicted office goers who stayed at home,
Brothers' phones disappeared into oblivion

One pal walked into the loo and lo....Sreesanth magicked the wicket.
Lock the lucky fella in the wash room! A divine spot to pray for deliverance.

Women gave up soaps and served curd rice.
the boys needed all the prayers.

Dead silence after the last over,
we were still catching our breath.

And then a wave broke,
My thiruvanmiyur pal mistook it for a tsunami!

Colour, cracker, cheer and cricket bats celebrated.
Team India won 20-20!

;) ;)

Jaiprami never sleeps.....

2007-09-24T01:49:00.000-07:00

and conversely it also sleeps through the day!! My home of paradoxes! Early mornings or late nights, someone is awake and someone asleep as fans and television sets sweat it 24x7.

At 4 my grandpa is up - prayers, meditation and silent brooding. Sis has just finished catching up back episodes on pogo and toon disney.

In the next few hours, my aunt and grandma rise in a series and the wheels of the day are set in motion. Thathaya goes back for a small snooze.

Reluctantly little bro joins the early morning vigil....countless entrance tests and horrifying boards lie ahead. By 9, the storm has abated, we are on our way out and peace slowly drifts in. Dreams and deadlines invade madhu's sleep.

She leaves by afternoon and in sometime my grandmum naps after temple, maids, cooking and chores. Our maid flits around entranced, independent and dreamy.... snoozes later in the evening.

Rishi is back...cartoons and games before being shooed away for some beauty sleep. Lest he droop over his homework. Aunt arrives and in sometime, she is a zombie. Winks of sleep inbetween chores, policing and communications.

I dont know how she manages to stay half asleep, half awake always.....opening the door like a haggard olive oyl for sis (and me sometimes) at 2; waking up bro with popeye's strength at 5.

Reminds me of the legendary Masai tribe of Africa, who are forever in a state of readiness for war. Even when woken at the dead of the night, in a fraction, they are raring for battle.

The rhythmic cycle of academics and PSUs put against worlds of corporate hunger and media insomnia. India's two worlds in my own microcosm.

I visit the different time zones depending on french classes, physiotherapy, work and late shifts. Omniscient and unapologetic sleep lover.

I only wonder what our visitors and neighbours must think of us.....
lights and music never off.
someone asleep all day long.

Jaiprami never sleeps and also always sleeps.
romie ;)

One story many tales

2007-09-23T23:43:00.000-07:00

Fiction oflate seems too slow, removed-from-the-world and surreal.
But fiction - pop, classic, comedy, victorian, indian writing in english and all their sub genres - was once my staple diet, on trains, in classrooms, at the dining table, in the mornings even on board exam days and social gatherings.

Those flights of fantasy, awe and wonder that nothing has yet replaced.

In small compensation I picked up Kim Edwards 'Fire King....' from the office library on a colleague's reference. A collection of short stories, so that I can make atleast one a week.

Those little tales of love, hope and despair got me thinking on so many things that we just blur past in hurried lives. Melancholy and old age.

Sometimes scary, sometimes natural.
Sometimes makes me wonder what my grandparents must be going through.
So many stories to each life so rich.....but no ear to listen.

As I googled, I came across this:
crisp, painful, funny, amusing, but thoughtful.

Great truths about growing old

1. Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional.

2. Forget the health food. You need all the preservatives you can get.

3. When you fall down, you wonder what else you can do while you are down there.

4. You're getting old when you know all the answers but nodody bothers to ask you the questions.

5. Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician.

6. Wisdom comes with age, sometimes age comes alone.

7. You're getting old when you get the same sensation from a rocking chair that you once got from a roller coaster.

Someone once wrote every passing year is just a statistic! Its easy to forget them!
Thats nice to recall now!!
romie ;)

Foodie Fundas

2007-09-20T01:42:00.000-07:00

My office is a gastronomic delight as I have already mentioned, but was it traditionally so??
Looks like it.

Yesterday one old associate made a visit....and lo, he arrived arms laden with chocolate bars for everyone!! I instantly took a liking to him.

A few days back another old-timer made an entry armed with 'kalkandu' and yummy prashad! They say he comes often....slurp!

munching a crunchy chocolate,
romie ;)

Smiling all the way!!

2007-09-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

The smiley turns 25!

I cant believe that a communication revolution could be so young.
But there it is....dots and curves that speak across a world of languages and cultures.

Linguist David Crystal may bemoan that four languages are dying across the world each day!
But man, look up, there are new ones out here.

Cheers for the 'kolokbok' figure that speaks a myriad emotions!
romie ;)

P.S: Mekie, remember that small piece on emoticons for the school magazine, light years ago!

Mekie says:

The earliest known examples of Q are attributed to Harvey Ball, who devised them in 1963 for a Massachusetts-based insurance firm State Mutual Life Assurance. Ball never made any profit for Q, beyond his initial $45 fee.

Q was popularized in the early 1970s by a pair of brothers, Murray and Bernard Spain, who seized upon it in a campaign to sell novelty items and thus helped Q cement its place in popular culture.

However, Q's present and most commonly used avatar was created by Scott Fahlman, a research professor at Carnegie Mellon University's Department of Computer Science, in a message posted to the CMU computer science general board on 19 September 1982 (11:44) -
exactly 25 years ago.
Identify Q. :-)

;) - I got that and yes our article came in the 15th year of the smiley and it is 13 years since we first met!! Cheers!!!

the many romilas of romila thapar

2007-09-16T23:59:00.000-07:00

Romila (0f rustic notes fame) says that she was named after Romila Thapar as well!!
Her father too was inspired by thapar's intellect and perspective. Given the great historian's renown, it looks like there are more of our breed.

I am yet to meet Romila Thapar though having missed an opportunity when she was in Madras for a lecture last year. But I hope to meet her soon.

Her interview on BBC was riveting: she shattered myths on Indian history and said how ideology is defined and defended for gain. One line that sums it all, "everyone has a view of the past".

I admire her academic persona, her easy dismissal of hindutva critcism and her refusal of the Padma award as she accepts academic honours only.

It is with shame that I accept not reading more of her, save a book on Indian Tales for children, read in 5th standard and Early Indian History (Penguin) in fits and starts.

But I have heard some of her lectures online like this Katz memorial lecture: http://depts.washington.edu/uwch/katz/20042005/romila_thapar.html

Being named after romila thapar always reminds me of my parent's and aunt's great dreams and also that it is possible to assert truth and not give in to power.

I hope to get to know more of the woman who inspired many dads to dream that their daughters will grow up to be like her.

To Romila Thapar and other romilas named after her.
romila ;)

The blog bug and the namesake

2007-09-14T00:35:00.000-07:00

Seems like I have already run out of topics.....blogging about blogging!!
Even with a few paltry blogs forwarded amok, I am now announcing myself a blogger.

There was this one blog 'reckless ink' now 'rustic notes'.
I share my name with the author and I have been reading it since college days.

On my recommendation, my colleague and a great mum-blogger read it as well.
Mum blogs are kinda nice, reminding me of my childhood with sis, bro and cousins.

I left a note on rustic notes but was still confused when I received a reply, guess I need some time to adjust to another romila.

Its actually nice in an odd way to know someone by your name......does she have the same pet name, was she named so for the same reason? how do her friends call her? how does she sign her name?

But, I am someone who hastily discarded all those orkut invites of other romilas. But having read reckless ink/rustic notes for a while, I am comfortable with this blogger.

In fact one post that really warmed me up to her was how she tackled errant aunts who pointed at her and kept saying to her "you next, you next" at weddings. Romila in turn would similarly jab them at funerals and say "you next"!

Pure genius!! I am waiting for my turn to try that out. ;)

As a south-Indian, I never met someone who shared my name, atleast on the face.
Named after Romila Thapar, legendary historian who taught and inspired my dad, I have always looked out for people with a similar name, to simply ask them what it meant.

Several sanskrit scholars have given me different meanings, yet I am to find a close-enough root beyond raomila (godess of love), roma (curls/Lakshmi) and ila (earth). I never got to meet a Punjabi scholar though.

I hope this blog pal can tell me the story of her name,
romila ;)

Sunset on a lean week

2007-09-12T00:32:00.000-07:00

With mekie calling this a phoenix blog and polite friends sending in smileys.....I am tempted to write about yesterday evening, simply being itself.

The best part of working for a fortnightly are mondays and tuesdays on a lean week......the stories are still still trickling in, book reviews and artsy stuff.

So as one leaves for home by 4.30-5, there is a lightness in the step and the world outside is yellow and mellow. Otherwise one doesnt get to see the evening sun at all, nor the bustle of the evening market.

In an auto down Chintadripet's crowded main street.....scents and smells of an usual evening are immensely pleasurable. Reminiscient of university days down the same route laden with books.

As traffic stands still, my grandmum's childhood memories of the side streets, kite-flying, the old cook, and playing alongside my grandfather take life in the five-feet high smoke.

Back in the present:
a police wallah makes a u-turn on the congested road, bus drivers make way for an old cyclist on a narrow gali. agarbathis for ganesha fail before the fish market; colourful temple stores and flower sellers make brisk business. tumeric and queuing sick patients, flower garlands and tea-boys, 40-kgs of rice balanced on a skinny TVS 50.

Walking down, I make shadow figures, file in step with school kids and look behind hoping my brother would join for an early evening of fighting and pulling each other's leg.

Milk with grandparents; they catch up with the newspaper as I look down on the street. Rudely inquisitive neighbour readies to make a kolam. White poetry on unyeilding black.

I swivel and bask in sunlight streaming down french windows that illuminate my grandpa's junk. It doesnt seem so bad after all. My aunt's smile at an early entry and warm noodles. I curl around a magazine on the terrace, watching the sun set, promises to read forgotten.

Glimpsed once in a fortnight, these evenings are special. I never knew they existed when I got back from college teaching most afternoons.

grinning lazily,
romila ;)

look within: ganesh and auto wallahs vy with each other for space. taken by me

A thousand dreams

2007-09-11T04:44:00.000-07:00

Hazaaron Kwaishein Aisi...Ghalib's immortal words on my gmail status aroused many queries. There were better films and not many could relate to this one. So what made it special?

Either the film had many layers or I simply imagined them.... images of reality clashing with idealism; new worlds struggling to take shape; and poetic lyrics that sent heady meanings:

Bavra Mann Dekhne Chala Ek Sapna....
Bavre Se Is Jahan Main Bavra Ek Saath Ho
Is Sayani Bheed Main Bas Haathon Mein Tera Haath Ho

A story of college friends who choose different ways as India is poised for marked transition. Sometimes, many of us can relate to all the three characters: geeta, who doubts idealism but who returns to it ultimately; siddharth, who plunges into the struggle but who has no answers for the violence creeping in; and vikram, who struggles to find his feet in the corrupt system to later embrace it.

The film to me is about a generation I never saw, a generation that I glimpsed now and then..... in professors who recounted with awe the power of student movements; uncles who recounted heady dreams and fiery speeches of their days; the disappointment of a generation whose dreams of a brave new India never took off. And their disdain for those who embraced the corruption and leg-ups.

Today, we hardly speak of them, the generation of the 60s and 70s. They did not know of my grandfather's dream for independence and Nehru but hoped for direction and romantic ideals, sought Indian equivalents to the west's dreams and development.

Their optimism, hopes and ultimate confrontation with reality and compromises is what Hazaaron Kwaishein is to me. I saw in it what my professors and uncles spoke of. Their inspiration and disillusionment and how they then went on with their individual lives powered by academic successes in middle class, pre-liberalisation India.

Surprisingly, I could also relate to the characters, mostly geeta's. Slipping in easily into two worlds: academic and intellectually stimulating dreams; differences and conservatism in a traditional telugu household.

It isn't practical to be ideal, and it is cheap to be material. But we grudgingly respect conviction and struggle, the person who chases his dreams; and also admire the man with the money, even if we wrinkle our nose at the means.

In the film, I smelt the musty dreams that a generation forgot as it embraced the rules of the new world. The struggles for equality, the social worker, the idealism preached in college brushed away.

It was not meant for us, we had to read and debate but do nothing. I grew up in this convenient understanding.

Either all these dreams were there in the film as I knew them in some people, or I simply imagined them. In between the film, the message of confusing and conflicting dreams and worlds was somewhere there or I probably read parahs between the lines.

But somehow in susy's bathroom slippers and cycle, in jerry's awe of student power; in jose's smiles at the trivial issues that centred our lives; in dreams for a new awareness, in books and articles, I saw a period, lost forever.

But the dreams were there....thousands of them. And they hoped as they waited.

Hazaaron Kwaishein Aisi
romila ;)

The Natural Order of Things

2007-09-04T06:13:00.000-07:00

My sister was away at Kansas for about a month.....I dont know if I missed her. Too many mixed sibling feelings there. But, as we left for work together today, I had this deep sense of things getting back to normal.

Milk with television,
newpapers strewn in the loo.

Gaze sleepily at the wardrobe for 20 mins;
to pick up whatever hit the floor first.

She hollers as I drown in the bathroom, I pick up her soiled clothes;
the driver waits for an hour yet we dont make it to breakfast.

Hunt for dupattas, call-locate phones buried under cushions;
grab tiffin boxes, carry sandals to the car.

Shower of curses, rain of reminders from haggard grandparents;
And a call enroute to remind of a deserted laptop!

The resigned driver reverses on a one-way,
and a fuming mum hands it over.

Song requests turn little bro a RJ and,
Democracy rues Blues the clear winner!

Locks blow-dried on Spurtank road,
lip-balms tossed across at Mount road.

Clear bags of yesterday's junk at the signal;
scramble for combs in the jam.

Rue over forgotten things as the car skids to a halt;
Narowly escape being run over when hopping dividers.

Mail each other when we get to office,
And the natural order of things are restored!

romie ;)

Tomorrow is another day!

2007-08-30T05:54:00.001-07:00

The last few days were hectic: ceremonies, friends arriving and leaving and a family that wants you at home 24x7.
I juggled everything but it didnt feel like I spent quality time at all.
I attempt to fathom that as dear grandparents think that I am working on my research.

Monday, August 27th, was another day that could do with a few more hours.
Lavy and I got back from Pondy the previous day quite late, and slept in time to avoid murdering each another over an inexistential argument.
Feeling like yesterday's leftovers, we went on for a tete-a-tete with Megh and Spidey by 6.30 a.m. These chats with cutting-chai are wonderful, we learn from each other and occasionally watch a film together but today there was no time.

I got a call that my maternal grandma was hospitalised for a veezing bout. What do I do.... mum said she was fine and simply held for tests. But multiple guilt when not around is natural.

As getting back to our 'tribal village' (tbm) was imperative, attending Arun anna's wedding over the reception seemed logical. Meeting shalu after three years was the more important agenda. And she did warn me that she would be busy at the wedding.

God! how did she manage to slim down so much...I didn't get to speak a word as the dutiful sister was playing the guest of honour. But it was simply good to see her. Some things never change: the loony walk, large smile and goofy act when in a spot of tension.

Peppered with great wedding music, I had a long overdue chat with archu. We ended up storyboarding camera positions for her wedding, complete with crane shots and chroma key. T'was a telugu wedding (Arun's bride is a goltu and I acted the expert to shalu's pop-in-law)

A few grins, many laughs and an hour flew away.

Stepping into office, vinnie called to give me a piece of her mind. She does it only when pushed to extreme. She went on to how I had deserted being the univ class's unofficial rep. Point taken. I have been wrapped with my life.

After mollifying her, I decided to act good and messaged sojee and later cheryl on christmas plans with children of the Fatima convent or other homes. Managing to feel better about keeping in touch with close buddies, I scrapped Angel. Phew! What a relief to have orkut at office!

But there was still a long day ahead after work.....

Mekie was leaving to Ann Arbor and so was Dee Dee to Delhi. DD's was a 5'o clock flight....so I ditched him, though it was the second time in a row.

Mekie's late night flight was better. And if I didnt see her then, that would be base sacrilege. As it stood, in several weeks we met only on brief and rare occasions. Did I mention that her home is 10 yards away?

After work, luckily a lean week, I rushed to rad's mehendi.... late and tired. But arti can make anyone feel better. What else from the daughter of a mum who looks for a rainbow after every shower with the same enthusiasm as a kid? By the way, however arti manages to remain skinny with aunty cooking from heart and soul totally befuddles me.

Vaishu and I made a colourful peacock and for an hour, Mads, arti, rads and I chatted wistfully of Moppy days in telugu, hindi, english and local tamil. We missed priya but made pals with a new priya, who spoonfed the hand-tied bride!

I rushed but arti simply made an extra five mins special with a line of small squiggles in fragrant mehendi. A souveneir of a short but unforgettable evening.

A drop to Velachery (courtesy: mads) and some soul talk. The growing-up pains of a mother who balances career and a young daughter. And Velachery looms too soon despite peak-hour traffic.

I take A51 and call Sayee: how and when do we meet mekie?? She promises to wait but eventually gives up as the bus takes a painfully long route.

I land, sooty and grime layered....mekie takes my breath away with a hug and saying things like 'You did manage to spend time with me'. A knowing grin that makes A51 worthwhile.

Finally I meet my dear grandma (albeit late) - absolutely fine for a 75-year-old but tired. I politely listen to all her talk on marraige and responsibility. I let the old dear get her way, my lungs have given away.

But what a day....six worlds! I cant have a better day to engrave about.

Tripping with the gang, anna's beautiful wedding and shalu's goofiness, archu playing host;
Talking with DD on onam, listen to vininie's justified retributions, cheryl's witty msgs on chinky eyes and nigger noses;
feel sojee's laid-back attitude, a smiley scrap from angel;
mehendi with a rainbow, arti's warmth, mad's cheer, rad's nervousness, vaishu's glee;
a knowing grin from mekie, sayee and veena on the phone, pampered by parents.
and a pleased grandmum.

I trudge home awaiting admonitions for not using my time properly. And guiltily report to my paternal grandma of my adventures.

I dont know why I feel guilty, its an inherited sociological neurosis. Guilty when at home for not working, and while working for not being with family. Terrible, if we hang out with friends; when we actually juggle myriad roles.

As I catch up with sour parents whom I refuse details of a cousin's love-life, I am drooping into blissful oblivion.

Tomorrow is an hour away and I must fulfill more roles: a better daughter, friend, sis, grand daughter, volunteer, employee......Tomorrow is another day!
romila ;)

arti's handiwork and our hennaed hands

Best friend's wedding! (Chap-6)

2007-08-30T04:17:00.000-07:00

Myalpore, Kapaleeswar temple, under the aegis of Nandi - 30.8.2007

Radhika's wedding today was one-of-a-kind!

A temple ritual somehow seemed to me more austere and serious. Add to it, tying the knot right in front of the main shrine. But there was also something merry and beautiful about all the chaos.

Today there were half a dozen or more weddings in such close proximity that guests spilt over and the nadaswaram players were confused which wavelength they had to tune into. But kids of different marraige parties were simply pooling in strength for games that required many players.

As I browsed the various wedding parties for my friend's, I came across a common former colleague - Kala maam. As she dresses like a star everyday, I didnt find her costume out of the ordinary, but several passers-by gave her the second-glances. I promised to lead her to rad's party once I found my own destination, but I simply couldnt catch sight of her later.

But the cheery atmosphere on a pleasant morning with the heady feel of a chaotic temple caught on to me. The bride too was looking radiant. There is something beautiful about the harassed and frazzled-looking hindu brides.

Despite the stuffy proximity of extended relatives, each shouting instructions in every available direction; rising soot, heavy wedding garlands bearing her down; yards of saree that has to be tucked away often at several places; wisps of hair all over and a riotous clash of several bright colours....these brides do look beautiful. Making it an unsolved paradox of modern times.

After rads tied the knot, or rather as the knot tightened over her neck, I took a walk to the main shrine.

I enjoy visiting Saivite shrines for their stark colour contrasts: deep black statues lit by oil lamps throwing an umbered glow, colourful flowers contrastingly used to decorate the Gods...less jewellery and more colour. And with a haze of agarbathi's creating a divine mist, my friend's wedding seemed truly mesmerising.

The lone grim reaper was a flower seller who beckoned me to leave my sandals under her gaze but before I could be struck by her magnanimity she blackmailed me into buying flowers. I didnt carry any money having left my bag in the car, but she was adamant that I pay her after I visit the shrine. I didnt like being needled so but had no choice.

I did walk all the way back later to settle my account but my good mood so enveloped me, that I gave her a part of the pooja flowers received at the temple. She was stumped and I walked away having won the round and threw some pori into the tank for the ever-hungry fishes.

congrats rads, all the best!
romie ;)

The Blue Pencil

2007-07-12T07:44:00.001-07:00

At a point when career is the most important thing, there are a billion questions buzzing....what if I made the right choice, what if I get burnt out, what if I get stuck, what if...what if?!

And having an academics-obsessed family, which makes sure to fill you with dread and doubt every step doesnt help.

But then my office is a great place and today I realised that I am where I belong... enlightenment came in the form of 'iruttu kadai halwa', ginger biscuits and coffee eclairs.

The surest way to one's heart is through the stomach, Vini always proclaimed and the universal truth in her statement struck me today. Enter office on a 'busy week' thursday and the last thing you expect, is to be greeted with is halwa made at the legendary 'iruttu kadai' (the dark shop).

History has it that halwa made from a small, non-descreipt shop in Tirunelveli was favoured by several food connoisseurs, one of them was a local chieftain whose patronage helped the shop outlive its age.

The tradition continues and the dinghy shop retains its trademark dark room lit by a single oil lamp as its signage and halwa is still developed with the same precision.

TSS's courtesy ensured that office today bore allday the heavy fragrance of ghee and sugar syrup, all those who entered or walked by were curiously looking around while we rubbed the ghee of our hands on yesterday's dummies. Burp!

An hour of work and Sashi's larder opens noiselessly, well not so silently as we start gulping down ginger biscuits, courtesy: another colleague who just hopped across the Atlantic.

After lunch it is time for dessert, a box of coffee eclairs, we managed to polish off a box of almond chocolates yesterday.

As my stomach rumbles happily at the bounty, I vaguely try to complete a copy on 1857 mutiny. Didnt the mutiny soldiers also embed messages in rotis and lotus stalks?

Peppered with thoughts on those ingenious soldiers, Fowler's rules on apostrophes and the page making software's latest jinx against shoulder tags, it strikes me that I couldnt have chosen a better place.

A bunch of non-conformists, respect for personal space, jokes on political gags, income tax, 'bracket' writers, 'hyphen' editors, coloumn-isms, photogenic criminals and how to add a 's' to Moses and Jesus. Not to forget infinite patience with slow learners as myself...

I do miss my mischevious students and notoriously mischevious colleagues and friends from college-teaching days but there are compensations...did I hear that biscuit tin open?!

romila ;)

P.S: Statutory warning: Irutukadai halwa can blur vision, the following issue carried two corrections in the copy, unnecessary italics and an extra 'h' in a word. Ugh!

Photograph of Sashi's larder that we contribute and subscribe too.

pachai...review

2007-03-02T07:14:00.000-08:00

What is it about cinema that makes us think that we are relaxing...?
Some films can be stressful but a change is a change I guess.

I enjoyed the film immensely for having watched it with Sandy and sharing a few semiotic notes, laughing at the histrionics and gulping popcorn (courtesy:sandy).....pulling priya's leg, a delicious lunch complete with Gongkura pachadi at Rads place and poking fun non-stop.
It was a great afternoon folks and we must do it more often but with someone's home-theatre, the kids around and the kitchen handy!!

The best part was watching the faces of a few scandalised students in the back-seats, being introduced to their mothers and ofcourse feeling that one has spent some time for oneself and with close friends.

Truly worth the company and not the cinema.

Pachai Kili Muthu Charam

Cast: Greying at the temples Sarath Kumar, Already-grey Milind Soman, Novice Andrea and Jyothika lacking a meaty role.

Crew: Gautham Menon who needs a break and a fresh USP. Harris Jeyraj (was this the music of the man who gave us Minnale??)

Spoiler Warning: The film is very loosely based on the book Derailed...very loosely, avoid reading the book if you want to watch the film!!

Having watched the film at an expensive locale and alongside some amazing company....I couldnt have an afternoon snooze in peace. After all how often does someone who writes film reviews for a living get to write one straight from the gut, that too after actually watching the film!

Pachai Kili is a winner....when you look at the shots, the editing (but for a few glitches) and Jo's screen presence, but the film lacks in pace and yes, a plot.

A happily married couple is faced with the fact that their child has juvenile diabetes...(arent there more diabetics than non-diabetics??) The medial rep father is ready to take it in stride but the mum as mums all the world around are, shattered. But kudos to Gautham for having stayed off cliches like leukemia and blood cancer.

A few scenes where the wife refuses her husband and the dialogues here are mostly of the 'I want to make love to you' and 'I dont want to' variety.....we heard something like that in Kaakha Kaakha as well.

The hero has a legitimate reason to eye a fellow passenger, the svelte and attractive hmm...what was her name finally?? Conversation develops to companionship, intimacy and finally lust. The shots here that denote intimacy lack the finesse of a seasoned filmmaker.

While the poor wife is unaware of all this and the 'train-lady' is busy seducing...the hero faces a mild mental turmoil, or does he really....he marches ahead for dinners, dates and even fights a few baddies to rescue her. He is her hero, more intimacy and finally a painfully long drive to a beach resort sees them stumbling to make the first move.

But things are taken out of control as a petty thief barges in, on overpowering them both, he gains access to credit cards, cell phone numbers and finally pics in wallets that reveal their illegitimate relationship.

The thief is played by an ageing Milind Soman (and it really feels surprising to see your teenage hero turn old and grey). Its a Catch 22 situation, they cant speak about it, they cant make a complaint as the thief blackmails them for money.

When the bank account shows zero, our man comes out clean with wife....the pretty wife who sat pretty is overwhelmed.

Our hero suffers her loss amply illustrated by the situation where he lives and feeds his kid on bread....the wife returns soon.

Now emerges our filmi hero....if our usual dad and uncle types would have been happy to start saving again, our hero has more salt, he sees how he can get his money back.

A chase in chennai autos show him the gang is all out to hook people and the lady is a key player....a network of con artistes, taxi walas, hotel owners and thugs. How do they budget such a vast office with just a few lakhs from a few men??

A trail and chase, a foolish confrontation.....actors struggle to get their punches right, commotion ensues in three murders. The hero makes away with the loot.

Shift to Hyderabad, life with the same dialogues and songs...only to be stalked by old skeletons.....hero sets out to rescue family, the lady (train) reappears desperate for vengeance.

Jo proves that she is a complete novice when it comes to such roles, she resorts to rolling eyes to look menacing. A tussle, blows, blood and gun shots, the lady is dead, our man takes family back and and drives away into the sunset.....phew!!

The rigmarole of watching a film in theatre to supposedly have fun is over.....and what a film to do that!! I guess only animation stuff or like Sandy says 'the Lord of the Rings' variety films are worth a 70 mm, for the rest like this fare a thiruttu VCD would suffice.

Andrea is predictable but looks quite attractive. Jo is good in places but reveals that she has no grounding in these kind of roles....wouldnt Sangeetha been a better choice here, or does Gautham just have to have Jo?

Like Sandy again says its so much like Kaakha Kaakha, Jo dies in both cases and the villains are look alikes, the director is in better control when there is some violence on screen, else he fumbles making linear shots.

Editing is glitchy and the songs are passable but for a few pieces which really sound like they would become popular ringtones.

Pachaikili....excels in bits and certainly not a must-see film, certainly one expects better from the Minnale man and he probably should derive his own cinema rather than making loose and strang adaptations of hollywood cinema. But if you wish to watch the film just for hanging out with cool friends....go ahead, there is plenty of scope for fun and foolish comments!"

-romila.

Priyaaa...!!!

2007-01-13T21:52:00.000-08:00

When we take great efforts to write an orkut testimonial and the person opts out of orkut...
After all, we dont want our masterpieces to go unseen....we post it on our blogs!!
This is about Priyaa...colleague, senior, friend. ;)

Priyaaaaa….!!!!
Chocolate is one word that describes her…..
The real sugar amidst loads of sugar-coated candies. The original honey-filled toffee, while the rest are merely flavoured….
the sweetener who adds life and energy to all those around her!!!
Chocolate obsession, child-like nature, wit, humour, genuine warmth, bear hugs, undiluted as vanilla cream and appreciating the small joys of life.
Gloomy pudding when she is forced to do something she doesn't like, soft as chocolate cream and stuffed with chips when pampered.
A hot cup of chocolate when you feel the world around you is falling to pieces, strong as coffee when the need arises.
But people, don't get carried away by all this sweetness, she can turn bitter cocoa when someone is fake and hypocritical.
Genuine warmth and earnestness alone appeal to her, frills and fuss…she keeps them off by light-years.
The burnt-umber of Earth, the bright orange of sunshine, the warm yellows of summer and milk-white of innocence. The lines that come to my mind when I feel like describing her…
"Without, the frost – the blinding snow,The storm-wind's moody madness –Within, the firelight's ruddy glow, And childhood's nest of gladness."
-romila ;)

Savi, who is she???!!!!

2006-12-24T06:59:00.000-08:00

Well, now that vini has in an unusual mood decided to declare her love to her sister, let me add a few things that I feel....

For one, the twosome at University were some of the only bright spots in my academic life there. The sister brigade have a way of taking most things coolly while I would be battling over the silliest of things in my head. Apart from that....if there is one thing I really envy vinitha for...it is Savi, the best older sis one can wish your friend to have....as she by default becomes your proxy older sister too.....

the one who teaches you how to frame your questionnaire, validate your research results, the agony aunt who pulls you out of depression and gives you sound practical advice when you are too confused to even spell your name. The cool girl who tells you what is best for you in two syllables and pulls a solution miraculously out of a tangle as a magician pulls a rabbit. I admire her absolutely cool, no frills, no fuss, bindaas attitude.

I have always looked up to her and value her thoughts and comments. Now...when Savi is getting married, I join the club here in Madras that is gonna miss her awfully. Actually I have started missing her ever since she got engaged, as we dont message so frequently as earlier....well, one has to make allowances for a fiance and some romance!!

So I wont complain as long as she gives me bed and board every time I visit choking bangalore!!!
For you savs, I shall endure its congested traffic once in a while, not for any lesser person.
Savi rocks!!!
romie ;))

Invigilation Idiosyncrasies

2006-10-20T21:45:00.000-07:00

How does three hours of continous walking, distributing paper, thread and collecting answer scripts everyday for a week feel....let me tell you, BORING!!
Add a stray student who thinks that she can get away referring a book hidden under her kameez....yawn!!
I never really appreciated what my invigilators underwent all these years when we all gave countless semester exams and not to forget those terrifying boards......trust me, today as I stand in their place or hobble (owing to marathon invigilation sessions) I completely empathize with them. God bless their souls!!
And also understand why the research scholars at the University looked so haggard.....doing invigilation for our profs must have seriously addled their research findings.
So, how does one enliven these sleepy times.....Applied Research comes in handy. Say for example....36 students out of 44 in a hall wear jeans (Whoever said dress sense at colleges are creative??!!).
And then the primary colours of the chumki clad brigade.....bright pink, shocking yellow and bright blue, with default silver or gold chumkis ofcourse. (Courtesy- a colleague who shares similar academic pursuits)Other hypothesis that have been proved right are that:
1. for every 10 students there is one who carries a cell phone inside the hall.
2.creativity runs riot when there are law and history papers, so be prepared to give each one a dozen additional sheets.
3. when you are totally on the verge of dropping asleep and decide to check that three months old frayed newspaper at the back of the hall, the dean or the controller will walk in to check on some question paper.
4. You burn more calories by simply invigilating rather than giving the actual test.
5.Once has to retie atleast 7 out of every ten answer scripts, as the students never learned their knots as girl scouts.

After heavy academic research the other activity that provides some relief is snooping answer scripts.....where else can we glean valuable information like Gandhiji started the Indian National Congress or that Prasar Bharati is the secretary to the Vice President Vajpayee or TOI stands for Trust office of India and UNI for United Nations of India.
Actually after this first ordeal of mine, I would wish invgilation only on someone I really want to torture painfully and slowly.Doesn't one envy that blessed student in the last row who completed her paper in half an hour and is now enjoying blissful dreams??!!
sigh, sigh!!
romila.

Updating things....

2006-10-20T21:44:00.000-07:00

Growing up with siblings can be one helluva fun. At times, I imagine myself without my brother and sister. How boring can life get? Personally, I am the sort of person who would have never cut classes to go to a cinema. Yet I am quite the antithesis of what I used to be….thanks to my siblings!

So now I go nostalgic as I prepare myself to go down the memory lane, trying to relive some of the moments while growing up. But I seriously dunno where to begin. Shall I begin with how my sister, elder to me by two and half years, when she was a eleven year old broke [ahem…sorry smashed…with a stone] my mother’s brand new ‘HMT’ watch that was gifted to her by her brother. Amma walks in from office to find my sister busily smashing the watch. Aiding her, watching and applauding the action was my brother. And when amma asked my sister why she did it, her reply was “simply, I felt bored.” And my mother, being who she is left it at that!

My sister was particularly popular with the male cousins…the reason, she loved cricket, she used to throw herself completely into the game, could recount any statistic detail involving the game [ despite the fact that she is severely allergic to numbers, a trait that she has successfully passed on to me] Me being me, just used to sit and watch. [Thank God that I was not that girlish to play with dolls.]But I do remember one attempt in which I tried to ape my sister, I actually tried to play cricket! This was about when I was eight years old. I remember this incident with a clarity that amazes me, probably because it was one of the cruelest things that I ever did.I was declared out within the first few moments after I started to bat. As usual, I could not take defeat that easily. I argued till my throat was soar that I was not out, but when I realized that the support for me was next to non existent, I threw the bat in the air, and just my luck, it hit one of the players on his nose. His nose broke and you can imagine the rest!!! That was it.

Immediately after that we tried table tennis at home. We had been a to holiday at my uncle’s house in Ernakulam. It was a Government quarters that had a badminton and tennis court, a TT table and all such things. So after that wonderful summer vacation which included learning that detested TT, we returned to our base determined to extend our holiday mode at our home. It was the time when a new term was about to begin and appa had got all our books freshly bound. My sister being the generous soul that she is, decided to use the bound cover of her books as the TT bat.[ although I do remember having a TT bat at our home…okay lets just say that my sis was a creative person] So within the first week of the term her bound books were unbound! Amma was aghast and appa being the optimistic person that he is took some of the books for rebinding. But my sister’s passion for the game continued until she was sent to formal table tennis coaching!

A hundred events similar to these marked the years that I am spoilt for choice over which to recount. But I will remain grateful to her for making my under-grad college life simply wonderful. She was my senior at college [was in her third year] and her friends had laid down a strict clause to others not to rag me. Although it did not help me at first [people were openly antagonistic] things gradually improved.“College is gonna be boring,” I said to her on my first day at college. “No, it is not” she said and took me backstage to watch the fresher’s performance.[Generally that kinda privilege is allowed for the biggies of the college and first years are almost never allowed.] And a week she literally dragged me to the union room to say to the literary secretary that I would participate in college debates.She helped me perfect the art of never attending class but still maintain a 96% record in the register. Thanks to her and her friends notes my class never bothered taking down notes during lectures. I was quite generous with the photocopies of her notes and generally prevented any of my friends from taking notes.

To her expert tip, I owe the experience of sitting in the last bench for three years of my college. [and what fun did we have] One of the best things about sitting in the last bench in a class of almost a hundred girls, a class that has two entrances is that it is easier to crawl out when the class is on. This was a common feature during the poetry class, although I’ve never attempted it [found it extremely stupid…it is much easier to walk out] it was hilarious to watch the girls in action. So, her I am, what I am today and at least a part reason of me being me goes to my siblings! [will continue about my brother some other time after I’ve obtained the copyright permission]
Vini.

Turning into an absent minded professor

2006-10-20T21:41:00.000-07:00

Well, teaching is quite a strain on one's nerves and grey cells, not to forget those strained vocal chords......
look at me, three months into college teaching and am already turning into the conventional absent minded professor.Wake up one fine sunday and you think of calling a university senior and congratulating her on her wedding......five minutes after talking to her, realisation dawns that it isnt your senior but another accquaintance of the same name who was the one who tied the knot.
Thank God, I didnt embarass my senior and managed to hold my ground with the other pal. Though she was confused why i repeatedly asked her about days at Madras University, while she is from MCC. Much confusion arising from the fact that both of them have names like Rachel and both were working with the Indian Express. but, how did I not notice the difference in the mobile numbers??
A few hours later, another misnomer......I mistake an old pal from a common writer's workshop to be my junior from college and rave about old profs....the poor fellow is totally confused, smiles politely and walks away......realisation dawns later and I look around to apologise to the fellow, but he is nowhere to be seen. Feel really sorry for him.When one is teaching, one generally tries to remember the names of all the students with disastrous effects.......often confusing them. But what is the poor teacher's fault.....how does one remember a name like Prateeksha, say when there are two girls in different classes of the same name but of totally different characteristics.
Worse still, a battallion of Priya's, Priyanka's and Archana's in every class are just beyond comprehension. Why can't parents think of anything unique and different......how can one blame the poor professor for turning absent minded.And to top it all when you think you have almost memorised their names and identify them with their places, they have a trifling argument or quarell amidst themselves and change places.....lo, it starts all over again!!And then the guilt tripping, call a certain Vidyasri as Anuvidya.....and the crest-fallen, 'Maam, you dont know my name??!!' looks are sure to haunt you for the entire day!!Whoever says teaching is a safe vocation....the mutitude of students, the galaxy of youthful high-strung emotions, raging hormones and complex psychologies......whoever can blame the poor, blundering, confused, absent minded college professor for mixing up socks or leaving one's spectacles in the freezer??!! As for me laughing over my Professor dad's idiosyncrasies (wearing a mixed pair of black and brown shoes) and forgetfullness (of whether he locked his car or not) are halycon days that can never come back, all I can do is hope to remember that I locked my bike!!
Sigh, sigh....!!
Romila.

Getting started....

2006-10-20T21:40:00.000-07:00

What I am trying to write here is about everything in general and nothing in particular.It is about the everyday routine of our mundane lives, where each day seems to merge with yet another and the boundaries of days and nights blur admits the burning intensity of neon lights to pave way for days, weeks and years that just roll by without any significance!

It starts with the coffee that we take everyday morning, which has become more of a habit and a ritual that has to be religiously followed instead of something that can be relished. This routine just spills into every facet of our daily lives. We have become more of zombies, operating mechanically as if we are programmed to do things. The more we do something, the less we involved we become in doing it.

When we debate at one level about the cons of science, at another level we have become addicted to the use of technology that we cannot imagine a life without it. Is it a paradox? Or have we just forgotten to savour the little things in life that could give us genuine happiness.I think the concept lies in finding something new in everything that we do. The monotony of our life in itself can become monotonous if we don’t do something about it.

I think, the idea lies not in finding exciting things to do everyday, but in seeing something new in the mundane things that we do. Personally I can never get tired of watching the sea because the pattern of waves is never the same. Each day is a revelation in itself, which holds something new that we can look forward to. As each day dawns we have the same sky that rises above us, the same sand beneath our feet, yet they are never the same as they were the day before. When we look at the sky above us, the pattern of clouds keep changing before our eyes. Yet how many of us care to notice it? I believe the secret lies in thoroughly enjoying the little things that we do. But again, how many of us do care???
Vinitha

About us.......

2006-10-20T21:31:00.000-07:00

That's us.....vinitha and romila.A mad twosome.
For two years thrown into each other's company, we have scrounged every gali and nukkad of madras managaram in search of news stories. Not to forget tea-shops for that life saving brew...lime tea!!
Lovely, sleepy days at the University of Madras were primarily spent at the MSS tea stall, watching movies, haunting places around like triplicane, reporting a little and generally thinking that we wrote extremely well.....well, actually we still do believe the last bit, except that there is no time for the rest.
So, a place where we can rant our thoughts and let them flow recklessly.....muddle in unconcerned issues, rip apart movies, bemoan over the country's affairs, ponder philosophy, make small talk and generally engage in abstract conversations....trespass at your own risk!!
- romie ;)