My excuse for a hundreth post.

"Put anything in quotations and suddenly you feel like someone important said it."

-Sharanya Nair

A 100 posts!

Can i get a woot woot!?

The Creative Conundrum and Daft Buyers

I thought it was about time i went back to having pretentious titles thankyouverymuch. (The alliteration adds that extra touch of lilpinkyup attitude.)

It sure is a conundrum-this being creative business. I mean its not just sitting in a corner pouring your tortured heart out onto a piece of bark anymore, it is now business-not to mention risky (note lame reference to movieofsamename). Its trade plus industry plus however tiny and idiotic an idea that has the potential to become a global business.

Obviously this rant is keeping in mind the boom of the internet. I love the internet and all but sometimes it just pisses me the hell off. I mean, you can't think of anything without going online, googling it and finding out that some kid in war-torn Iraq or upscale New York has already done it, made millions and had a few babies since then. Can you compete with that(would you dare?) Its already a heaving BS-spewing conglomerate-the original guy probably isn't even in charge and the bunch of suits it keeps close to its heart of stone will sue you to within an inch of your life if you attempt to say 'feck it!' and go ahead with 'your' idea (with a different name of course). Its conglomerate-eat-small-fry out there. Trust me. But also be ballsy enough to have a go at it anyway. So what if there's a Calvin and Hobbes out there. Go ahead with that comic strip about the little boy and his tiger. So what if there's a Miley Cyrus out there!? Go ahead and sing and make vlogs and.....waitasec. We don't want any of that. Stuff it.

Also, recently I have come to the conclusion that people will literally sell anything out there. What's crazier is that people buy that shit! Its like this insane need to not conform by making daft retail choices. Or maybe its just a hook for conversation! Coz lets face it with the internet we have the option of thinking awhile and then speaking which is impossible not to mention absent) in real life. People don't have time to just sit around waiting for your perilous/pearls of wisdom. If you're not witty you're screwed my friend.

Like recently I saw a T-shirt with the words "Wonder drug - fuckitol" on it. I mean its not like I find the thought of taking drugs to numb the 'pain' fascinating or even want to literally follow the charming advice (because its impossible as well as 'risky business' :D with all those nasty stds). I jus thought it would be hilarious. I even went so far to imagine Widegrin or Dubba looking at it and cracking up. Ah! Saved from at least five and a half minutes of staring and 'dragging'.

Being the black sheep is cool and all but you don't wanna be the pink sheep with the bohemian hairdo and wooden clogs that says "bLaaahhh" alot. The line is fine, but its there people!
And i realize that my rant on the death of the creative turned into a rant on people who buy crap.
-runs to add to title-

Sabbatical ends

A day after April Fool's day (that passed by unrecognized by me) and more than a month since i last blogged. Anyway, here i is.

Oh wow. A string of events that have/will change my life and perception of people forever. In a good way.

And even better news! Dougies BACK! And he's brought a friend. He appears to have been on recon in my room and has found it satisfactory and hence has begun to "bring in the men" so to speak. I tried to snap a few quick shots but the wily coyote skidaddled to neverland before i could switch my camera on.

I say "thank yew!!" to my guiser (geyser? geezer?) everyday as i leave the loo. Why? (you ask stupid question) because the geyser (guiser? geezer?) plug displays the words 'Attisundar'(very pretty) on it. And i am a stronger person for having the blessings of my geezer (geyser? guiser?)

I download a trillion movies a day. Literally a trillion. I watch them compulsively also. Recently my bloodthirst has been slaked by Resident Evil 1 2 and 3. 1 is seriously a movie I can watch over and over and over again. And not only because Mila Jovovich is hotness and i enjoy watching mechelle rodriguez die, but because its an amazing movie! And obviousy i have to watch shawn of the dead again now because it just kicks ass.

I learn and (thereafter immediately forget) to play songs on the guitar I need not say more yes?

Endana indeed.

I was youtubing (as usual) and I came across a song by The Fray called Vienna (didn’t care much for it). I scrolled down to the comments and read a particular one that made me think. “My future funeral song.” it said jovially. Morbid much? Well, I didn’t think so. And you probably don't think so either. Its common-place for us. (The only reason I have not chosen one for myself is that I have decision making problems when it comes to choosing one out of a trillion possibilities.)

My grandmother on the other hand, happened to read it over my shoulder and said (after a shocked exclamation) in Malayalam “But why would someone say something like that?” She was very concerned about the person’s well-being and also went so far as to delicately ask if they already knew that they were dying.(!)

Needless to say it took a while for me to get it through to her that the person was probably all right and that often people listen to songs and say such things to express the magnitude of the emotion they attach to it.( I did not mention I was one of them. Whatami crazy?) All my explanations were interspersed with the occasional “Endana?”(But, why?) that my grandmother said in wonderment to herself. She finally trundled off, unsatisfied by my explanations, while saying something that roughly translates as “This youth is so morbid”

We're morbid apparently. The youth of today.

Caution: All too long a postscript to follow.

PS

And after this entire sploosh (don’t ask and I won’t have to make something up) of a blog it just struck me: Am I still in the youth category at all? I mean, ever since I was fifteen I was shooed into this 'youth' and it’s a comforting yet uncomfortable place to be in.

At this point when people said things like 'the future is theirs' or 'change is up to them' I knew they meant us; my generation, as a collective. And obviously I gloated at our good fortune of being in the limelight for that millisecond. And I gloated; every time some kid in a vague corner of the world created a working model of the universe, or became the first 'youth' to take part in a world greenpeace seminar; or became a graduate summa cumme laude in business and management or even managed to become a star at 16 (for widely unknown reasons). I watched them all and gloated with a shared sense of victory. (“Any victory of theirs is surely a victory of mine?”)

And so obviously I've gotten comfortable with the category. There are throw rugs and comfy cushions of 'ambiguity' and 'confusion' and 'silly decisions' all over the place (don't forget the humongous mattress of 'lazyarse-ness' in the corner) and I'm not sure I want to leave. But then again I don't want to be the old maid who wandered in, refused to leave and started taking over the place with her vaguely formed ideas of responsibility and maturity. (and millions of cats to add to the confusion) And so....

it’s officially over for me. Prematurely, some might say but hey, when you feel it honey, you gotta deal with it. (Too forties film dialogue like? Eh, whatever. I’m all growed up. I’ll do whatever I wants to!)

The Fly Dutchmen and more important stuff

Hey ya'll!

Its Dutch men this time. I have a new band whose music i adore. I shall introduce them on treble notes when my turn eventually comes so please please check them out! Yeh!

I have had an eventful time these past two weeks! :)

The biggest news being that things finally fell into place perfectly and i got my tattoo! Its a phoenix and I'm glad that i waited till now. The munches (MMmunch and osh) were present, cringing as i did, holding my hand(without me asking) and laughing graciously at all the jokes that came as a nervous tic to me in anticipation of the awesome pain that was tattooing (I kid. It didn't hurt all that much. Pretty overrated methinks. But the jokes, i admit, were killer. ) 

One thing irks me about the whole shebazzle(thats a made-up word but you get the idea. If you don't, leave now). The minute people find out i have a tattoo, one of the FAQS is "How much?" whilst eagerly nodding waiting for a ridiculously cheap amount to pop out of my mouth (Twelve rupees!). Well, they do hear a ridiculous amount but one thats at the other end of the spectrum.

In Sharuland, i would nod authoritatively at these people while saying "the tattoo was priceless" but in the real world, i have to admit, it did set me back a bit. But regret doesn't figure in my current mindset. I feel safe and secure in the fact that it will not get infected and i will not in fact get aids (something the oldies in my family never failed to mention while shaking their heads dolefuly when i mentioned getting a tattoo) or some other disease that has nothing whatsoever to do with the needle (did i hear someone say herpes?). I'm happy that i don't have to worry that if it did happen i would have someone to blame and thereafter sue the pants off (pun intended).

Quality counts right!?

In other news(in newscaster-y voice),

• Today was Widegrin's sister's birthday and i had an utter and total BLAST! The chocolate 'non sponge' cake, the chinese food, the ghost story i told that freaked me out more than anyone else, the chain of ghost stories that followed, lorita's 'ghost story' that made me make my throat soar, the phantom knocks on wood, the hysterical laughter and photo session to top it all before the cloud on the way back home. And noone let me forget the boobage! I loved it all! Thank you WG! :)
  

• I'm leaving for Ahmadnagar tomorrow to meet the old man and woman and have a blast! :) Dubba is accompanying me and it should be a fun bus-trip. I am taking my guitar and so my co-passengers shall be well entertained. Whether they like it or not. But the guitar is to be left on the bus. My father has misplaced pride in my guitaring skills and insists on making elaborate plans that all feature me playing in front of an audience. This i do not like. And hence i shall be leaving the guitar on the bus when i reach. Why take it in the first place, you ask? Need you ask when it concerns moi?
  

It is now 2:34 a.m and i am well out of things to do online since this post is now over. 

Ciao!

MCFLY!

Sigh. You'll should know by now that i have a strange affinity for this one band called McFly. I don't know why and I don't know know how but when I listen to them i just feel so uplifted. No, not spiritually you dodos. Just my mood!

I was sitting in class the other day i a kind of foul mood and listening to McFly on my phone with Yakub. I swear to you he is now an official convertee. He said it made him tension-free as well!! :)

And in Barista during one of our jaunts i whipped out my trusty phone an played a few McFly numbers and lo and behold Joshua grooving to them! :) I revealed only later on that it was McFly and he revealed that he would chek em out later! I was so thrilled!

Whenever i say "i like McFly" people's first reaction is to say "Who?" and when i tell them, "Oh, they're this awesome pop band from Britain." its like someone switched off all the interest in their faces after the word 'pop'. And what's worse is that as soon as i see a biased, prejudiced freak beginning to be biased and prejudiced, i just become all the more exhuberant about McFly and SO VERY defensive. Not a very good start, eh? But seriously, why that reaction, i ask you!? As soon as someone hears pop they can think only of Britney spears or that boots female-Jessica Simpson and they immediately assume pop is crap! And I'm not too ashamed to admit that a few of Britney Spears' songs were actually decent. Heck, i used to sing 'em!

And I'll have you know that the Beatles were pop! All THE WAY..but listening to them is cool right? So why should listening to McFly be such a big frikkin deal? And heaven forbid me from telling people that i'm not that much of a rock fan anymore. I'd get stoned. The bad kind of stoned. With actual pieces of hard earth.

The crowd mentality is just too cumbersome to follow all the time. I agree that sometimes we just gotta go with the crowd for the good of all that you hold dear but for god's sake if the crowd is horrendously wrong or dissillusioned about something, then by all means, TELL THEM. They're pretty harmless actually. If you're persuasive and confident enough they'll listen to you with eyes wide and interested, drool hanging an inch off their lips. What do people want? They want something better. Even if you have the best of the best you will never be content. That's just the human way of thinking. So if you convince them that what you're offering is better trust me, they will follow you to the ends of the earth. Wish i had enough charisma to carry that off! McFly woulda had the entire Indian subcontinent backing them up. :D (Well, at least the southern half)

And speaking of McFly (was i talking about them? hmm...can't remember)

RADIO:active is a great album! Not as great as the previous albums but its pretty great! :) Few songs i like in order of preference:

Lies (the ten second bass riff is just awesomeness! :) plus i love the end)
Corrupted (has a very nice riff in the beginning.)
Do ya (Sucha poppy cute song! The pitch increases after each stanza but they still manage to make it sound great!)
Point of view
One for the Radio (repetitive but great anyway)
Everybody knows

Acoustic versions of a few: (all awesome)
Do ya
POV
One for the Radio
Everybody Knows

It ain't Happening

The munches went for a movie and we were expecting to be scared, startled or at least slightly discomfited. Little did we know that Mr. M. Night Shyamalan has now become a master of comedy.
Here are a few fun facts and some made-up stuff about the movie-The Happening-:

The concept: pretty strange but great anyway.
The cinematography: Nice, nothing groundbreaking.
The actors: The three of us had our own theories but mine i shall state and it goes something like this-
Maybe the actors all forgot how to act whilst filming the movie. After the filming was over, they returned to their normal movie-worthy selves. You know, one of those freak unexplainable phenomenons like stonehenge or the Bermuda triangle.
They made strange inappropriate faces, they made strange innapropriate noises, they looked scared when they should have been angry, they looked constipated when they should have looked scared. It was like watching Joey(from Friends, you clueless people) and his "smell-the-fart-acting". Not Pretty.
The script: Probably what a five-year old boy and a monkey with alzheimer's would come up with if you confined them to a room and forced them to write a screenplay within the hour.

Marc Wahlberg was just hilarious. He should get an Oscar or something.
Zooey Deschannel was strange beyond belief.
John Leguizamo was one huge, lisping disaster and we even laughed at the way he just got out of the car, sat on the road and killed himself.

Now you guys know I exxagerate a tad, and that i sometimes use that to get a laugh or two but this time, its for real. (Its the shizz! As MM munch and i would say)

One particular scene from movie that had us giggling:
Lady is on phone with her terrified daughter and daughter is telling her that she is standing near window looking at a bunch of dead people.
MW says authoritatively: "Tell her to stay away from the windows! Stay away from the trees! Stay away from the trees."
Mother tells daughter to do so but by this time, the daughter is mumbling gibberish and consequently jumps out window. (sound of breaking glass and then wind blowing through window)
Mother (hysterically): Baby!? Babbbyy?
MW takes phone from mother, listens for a second and then says, "I can hear the wind"
Then as the mother becomes truly hysterical, MW is totally demoralized and proceeds to go and collapse butt-first into some shrubbery.

We couldn't help ourselves. We just burst out laughing, looking at him, just sitting there in the bushes. The rest of the movie wasn't different. We found something or the other to laugh hysterically at.

I leave with a small bit from the movie that has us laughing even today.
"CALCULUS!"

Two new loves. One new Fascination.

Marc Broussard

My lord! This man's voice is just awe inspiring. Its almost as good as Marley's, in that it is TRADEMARK. Now if i hear his voice again I'll know it. Flat out know it. Its reedy quality is just awesome and his style of singing is 'being involved'. I don't know if its a drawback for him as a performer but he just loses himself in the song so much that you'd think he was alone and really didn't care if he had an audience or not! His eyes closed tight, every emotion of the song showing through on his face and with that you just know that he's LOVING what he's doing at that very moment. This is what i call soul music. Anyway, I'm burning rubber on youtube trying to find every live performance of the guy there is to see and i just had to blog about it. Had to had to had to.

Football

No. Not the american kind. That's just glamourised Fight Club. I'm talkin bout this year's UEFA suddenly catching my fancy after twenty years of being alive. I don't know what it is. Mebbe its the Bangalore weather. Mebbe its the new medication i'm taking. I don't know but i like to watch football now. I don't know much about the intricacies of the game and i sur do't know all the 'legends'of the game but i'm a fast learner.

Anyway, Germany is my favourite at this point. (It has nothing to do with the fact that they're winning right now. Nothing i say.)

My fascination is with my new friend in my room. My semi-pet-who-is-kinda-like-me LIZARD!

Yep, the shardom has a new subject-reptilian mind you-who is narcissitic as hell! I have decided to name him Dougie. Well, anyway, Dougie keeps coming out from behind my desk/mirror thing and travels stealthily to my wall clock that has a shiny reflective band around it and here, Dougie comes to a halt. He then proceeds to stare at his reflection in the reflective material, tilting his head this way and that to get better angles. I am not kidding you here! He just hung around there for the entire episode of 'Bones' that i was watching. Since i knew i had to blog about this and you guys wouldn't believ me, i got a photo! Yes, i caught Dougie the narcissitic reptile in the act! And here is the proof.

I was a tad nervous and hence the camera shook:

A better shot. The doug was still sitting pretty and loving it.

A close-up and he was still checking himself out:

The flash irked him a bit, but did he run away? No! He's one solid narcissist he is, our Dougie.

Three a.m

Thanks to kristopher and pari. Their reactions helped me click the 'publish' button.

I feel like my whole entire life is passing me by. That I am twenty and I haven’t a revelation to my name. I fear my entire life will pass by in replica decades and that I will be left an old woman with regrets that clutch at her throat, bringing her to tears ever so often. Nothing to achieve. Nothing to look forward to. Just a vacuum ironically filled with hope yet reigning back hope to replace it with pessimism.
I am in turmoil. I am in constant contradiction of my pessimistic thoughts. Yet it remains. Like a cold stone in my gut. Immovable, impassable, ever-present. I’m beginning to realize that I am beginning to give in to this stone and its call. It is inscribed with the stories of millions of others, as human and imperfect as I, who just gave up. Who surrendered because it was too difficult to make a life in their world.

I often pray to a god I do not believe in. I pray feverishly for me to be transported back to a time where I will feel at ease with myself and those around me. I grit my teeth as I pray. Knowing how foolish I must sound. For this reason I would never voice my turmoil to a soul. It remains within my being. As though bound to the stone in my gut. The stone of the losers-the people who have given up. Who let fear feed on their persona and let the stone become a cancerous growth that becomes heavier and heavier till it consumes them whole and stiffens the blood in their veins.
Why must I be like this? I believe I have talent. I believe that I am as good as most out there yet I am bogged down by my eyes that register every movement of those I envy and by the thoughts that enter my head as my eyes are feverishly taking in all they can. The thoughts dissuade me. The thoughts make me feel like I have nowhere to go. That I have reached a deadly plateau of ‘average’ and have ceased any forward movement.
My body tingles as I write this because the truth does that. It makes you tingle in places. Your neck, your head, your stomach. It makes you feel like your pores are vibrating. Like they are all alive at once. I have often felt this. When I fall into bed and am still for the first time in a day. Then they vibrate. But that is a good vibration. They thank me for the work I did. For making them feel alive, for making them work together. But this is different. They want to no longer work as a unit but as individuals. I want to give in to them. But all I do is run my fingers hard through my hair to create a rival sensation. To forget their tingling. Or at least to mask it. To mask their traitorous aim. To feel whole again. But they continue. They continue to whisper, to vibrate and whisper pleas of freedom. But no I will not let them go. I will not let them be individual. I will deny them their pleasure as I feel I have been denied mine.
The stone is my gut is feeling warm. It is often warm as it shrinks. I run my hands hard through my hair, over my shoulders, down my arms and over my stomach. The tingling is going away, but it echoes still in my wretched memory, lingering as a warning of it return. But then that will be in a while, when I feel hopeless again. When I think of giving up again. When I am weak again.
For now I am safe. I feel the warmth of confidence. I decide on which smile to smile. The one that makes my one dimple show, I think. That one is a winner on most days, on most people. I square my shoulders. I suck in my gut. I walk into the room and I am me again. No one must ever know.

I'm it.

I'm it!
I'm an it. I got tagged now I'm an it! I like being an it.
Now on to the game...

3 JOYS:

Browsing through books at Blossoms. Even if its a hundred degrees and i leave a trails of sweat behind me.

Laughing at made-up scenarios with my munches.

Finding a book that i have read before but would read again and again.

3 FEARS:

I am mumbai-phobic. For some strange reason.

Burning clothes while ironing. It has happened. It will happen again. And i am petrified of losing more clothes.

Cockroaches. Lizards, i can handle. Rats i can juggle. But cockroaches ought to die. The lot of them.

3 GOALS:

Writing a book. And publishing it at a major publishing house. (When noone's looking)

Going to Italy.

Meeting McFly

3 CURRENT OBSESSIONS/COLLECTIONS:

McFly. It is disgusting. It is immature. But i like it and all the haters can go and boil.

Desiree by anne Marie Selinko. The book i read long ago and recently bought and am reading yet again. sigh.

My new guitar. My fingers will never be chapped enough. (They look like a troll's.)

3 RANDOM SURPRISING FACTS:

I can sing. i can play guitar. I can't do em together.

I get along very well with most auto drivers. I mean, very well. Like loooong conversation-well.

I sing a portuguese song in my head that i don't know the words to. This is courtesy my father and my uncles. I sing gibberish words instead.

And thats all folks! *smiles piggily and waves*

Oh...its my birthday btw.

And i feel all of the twenty years i am. But whatevr i feel like, i still act like a three year old (a grumpy one at times). Nothing's changed dude! *makes horizontal V with fingers*

12/06/08: I forgot to tag five people. How silly, how forgetful, how me.

Kris

Osh

Munch

Noops

and again with the uneven numbers thing. So only four tagged. Not five.

Writer's Unblock

Yes, its that beautiful time in a decade when i can't say i'm suffering from writer's block(or inherent laziness) and that is why i am blogging more than once today!

I have a few embarassing moments to discuss!

She lies. She lies.

Fine. They're aplenty in my life but i'll choose the golden moment and put it up here since i know you have lives and have better things to do. :)
This latest one i am actually proud of.

My mom, dad and i were at Hyderabad International Airport two weeks ago all checked in and waiting to board. Let me just say that this airport is pretty snazzy, by indian standards. All shiny (well, for now) and new. It was the kind that is lit so bright that you're constantly afraid you're gonna do something stupid (like i did).
So...i decide while waiting that i'm gonna go to the loo (which i thought i could do effortlessly but turns out i can't.)
I was thinking about romantic novels (don't ask) and walking towards the loo. I walked in, vaguely noticing a big blue illustration (really, they should make the "signs" more distinguishable. I mean women wear pants as well nowadays.) So i walk through and there's like this little area with a wash basin and mirror and there's this guy there. And he looks at me and i look at him and we both look away. He says nothing.

I was thinking :"Hmm...this part must be common"
The sadist that he was, he musta been thinking :"She gwain get embah-rassed!"

I walk in and there's six men, three on each side, facing the wall. Unless it was some kind of mexican stand-off in the women's loo, i guessed that they were doin their business and it was at this point that i realized where i was and my cheeks turned a darker shade of red and i felt like i was on fire (not in a good way)
And any normal woman would turn tail and run but nooooo...i just muted the sound of my heels by tip-toeing and heading for one of the stalls. All the while i was thinking..
Great. Now if one of them turns around they'll think i'm some kind of weirdo pervert who tip-toes around men's loos. (I wouldn't blame them. I felt like a pervert)
I was in the stall so i went about my business (getting embarassed makes me wanna pee apparently) and laughed at myself quietly before walking out confidently, head high in the air and heart high in my throat. I thought i could just walk out and try to vanish into a large group of tourists or something but obviously i met my dad on the way out who says incredulously,
"Thats the men's loo!"
to which i mumble something to the effect of
"*giggle* yea i know"
Dumb dumb.
It still wasn't over. I was trying to hurry away when the guy who was mopping the floors stops mopping, looks at me, grins and says while pointing, "That side ladie's loo madam".
Yes, thanks. That helps.
I walked away without replying, tossing my hair for effect.

She shan't like Sreesanth. She shan't i say! She shan't!

I was just watching tv and i realize after watchin a particular ad that i dislike that bloke Sreesanth. Immensely. i just want to rip his beard off his cry booby face.
I mean, who knowingly breaks down in front of millions of people accross the world and lives throught the knowledge that he is an embarassment to all that is decent, dignified and untarnished by salt water, in cricket.
I don't like cricket. I dislike the idea of watchin three hours of cricket but i still have a certain affection for the entire game since it makes us indians so crazy (as opposed to uh...the usually stable us). And here he is, this stupid-ad doing, curly-haired, pouty-faced donk-head, acting like a baby. Gawd! And the latest add for a certain dark coloured drink makes him all the more irritating. All i can think about when i see his unshaven face is that he cries like a five year old deprived of candy. Its a wonder he has facial hair at all, for that matter.
Phew. I just had to get that off my chest.
Lovely weather here. Cheers!
Post. Script: The british inflection to my posts hereforth are influence from watching way too many mcfly videos in way too short a time.

The Scarlett Lady

meh. I have a confession to make. I am cheating.
Yes, I am cheating. And whatever you do-gooders are thinking right now, i do not care. I don't care that you think i am morally repugnant or that i will probably go to a very hot (no i dont mean chic) place after i die. I am cheating. Its completely true and i'm ashamed but i do not regret it. I'll say it one last time: I am cheating. On blogger. I'm cheating on blogger with wordpress. I feel horrendous. I mean, i'm usually a very loyal person i am! I stick by people who i believe in and i am pretty much an innocent-until-proven-guilty kinda person.
But gawd! Wordpress really rocks. I will of course continue the relationship i have with blogger but things, i know, will never be the same. sigh. change is sometimes a terrible thing.
So anyway, if you guys want a change of scene then this very blog is also on wordpress at the following location.
www.ilikebraying.wordpress.com
i am right now listening to John Paul White's "Can't get it out of my head". seems appropriate.
Ta fer now!

PRIMATES ARE HAPPY

I've been thinking about war lately and i realized that i despise it. I hate the fact that man takes pleasure in upgrading devices whose main function is to kill someone. I hate the world of arms trafficking and how we can do zilch to stop it. Guns empower us-yeah rite! They make us feel we're powerful just because they enable us to hurt another person. Its traumatic actually, the thought of actually ending another person's life.

(Everything i've said above is kind of ironic, considering my father is in the army and i absolutely love the defense as a profession and as a national asset. I contradict myself indirectly but hey...its a complicated thing-human emotion. One minute you hate something and the next you admire it for having something that makes it different.)

I'm not being a realist when i say this (which i usually am) but i wish we could go back to simpler times when the world wasn't filled with bureaucracy-with the miasma of bullshit that we have to live through as individuals and a community in the present. Its cool that advancements have been made that make our lives easier but come to think of it we really don't need the world to be a stressful place anymore(like, duh!) and all these things achieve is to make life more compicated.

So go back to the previous centuries?
NO! Women were the criticised in the manner of scolding a child for thinking they could be as equals to man, our country had its battles, the world had its many wars, free thinking was a myth, religeon was the devil in a white, saffron or black robed disguise, and there was general chaos and anarchy beneath a hastily contructed veil of 'order'.

So i come to the end with the thought that we were so much better off as apes. Have you seen Planet of the Apes? The gruesome things we do could be so much more justifiable if we were just a bunch of wild primates who didn't feel silly emotions like guilt or insecurity. We'd be blissfully unaware. We'd be happy at least.

I sum up with a poem i penned down recently.

Yet Another Trench

As if hunger hasn't plagued,
many a concave stomach

As if the Gods haven't converged,
and fought us as one

As if rancour hasn't invaded,
delicate hearts and minds

As if longing hasn't bathed,
our souls in a terrible light

As if our will hasn't been broken,
and smashed into smithereens

As if the world hasn't become,
half of what it used to be.

We surge forward to battle
each other to the death
only to inflict torture,
to make each other horribly
inept.

Once Upon a Blog

• Once upon a blog i was actually funny. The funny bone has left. It packed its tiny polka dotted hanky, tied it to a stick, blew a raspberry in my face and tottered off down the road to never-lay-eyes-on-me-again-land.

Once upon a blog i wanted to update this here page every single day. I had to force myself to do it today.

• 
  Once upon a blog there were four. Now they're three.

Once upon a blog i could write about sheep and make people laugh. Uh, I'm a little glad thats over.

• 
  Once upon a blog i had no aspirations but only needs. Glad that's changed.

Once upon a blog i was content, now i'm not. I'm drained. Its a phase i hope it'll pass soon.

An update is an update. I hope the template is well recieved. Until next time.

Luurrve Is In The Air

I am truly not ashamed when i say this. I have now garnered an unusually drastic interest in novels that have a theme that is predominantly romantic. Yes, i, Shar have begun to like romantic novels. *whiny tone* They're fun to read yaaaa. Especially when i have nothing to do and want to have the right to say "I finished two books yesterday!"(each about sixty pages)
But on a more serious note, I READ ROMANTIC NOVELS! hahaha...so shoot me. The ones i read have a little more brains. And more importantly a plot.
Now here are a few pointers for people who haven't read any romantic novels and also for those sneaky underhanded freaks who have most definitely read at least one romantic novel but feign amnesia in front of the ever judging eyes of society. Well I'm not afraid, i say! *quivers under blanky while raising a righteous finger * Here goes.

1. The protagonists are so hot that its a wonder they haven't been scooped up by some American or European equivalent of Prasad Bidappa and stuck in front of a camera post haste.
2. The Girl pretends to be domineering and completely immmune to anybody else's advances but is actually a very kind, soft hearted person who loves puppies and can't get enough of moonlit walks and candle lit dinners. She is emotionally scarred from a previous relationship. (Thats obvious you dumb tart)
3. The Guy is rugged, tough and has biceps that can rival King Kong's but he has a soft side to him that will make you feel nauseous and then some. He has had a million women, possibly from and on different continents but the Girl just makes him wanna rip her clothes off. (Don't ask me how that makes her different from the other girls.)
4. Guy and Girl get off to a not-so-good start. They have a small spat in the beginning that is smoothed over when they find that their inimitable attraction to each other makes magnets seem foolish and really not that great a phenomenon of nature. (Screw the North and South poles)
5. Very important event that occurs within the first one-fourth of the novel is The Kiss (believe me it requires the capitals). Preliminary Salivatory Exchange (A phenomenon i like to call PSE or spit-swap) has them knowing in the back of their empty heads (and yours) that they are made for each other. (But who in tarnation likes making things easy?)
6. The rest of the novel is spent in flirting, fighting and spit swapping alternately while the two grow closer and closer (like yucky fungi) and then the clincher is The Misunderstanding (again, well awarded capitols) that makes each of the two dunderheads think one of the other is actually not in love with them and that they actually like wasting their time and breath on loser idiots who don't interest them in the first place.*takes deep breath*
7. But then, The Misunderstanding is given a beating and the two, Guy and Girl, come together to make wild passionate love and live happily ever after for the rest of their lives, in their beautiful six bedroom house. (complete with garden and fountain and back yard)

Stick a needle in me, i think i got diabetes.

Aerosmith in India!

I went to the Aerosmith concert! Not only my first concert in Bangalore but my first EVER! It was real fun!
(Gettin there deserves another story altogether so i won't add that here)
It was quite a nice experience. I mean, who gets to stand in the middle of a stinking crowd(I dont mean that metaphorically, i mmean reaaallyy stinky and i shamelessly agree that after an hour we were adding to the stench) for two hours while waiting for the band ta grace us with their presence. There was wild cussing (most of it by our group) and there was crappy joke cracking(all of it by our group) and then there were people trying to squeeze past. Don't ask me where. We were packed like sardines! I mean, you dint have to make an effort to stand, you just had to stand! And wouldn't you believe it, i had the time of my life! That is, of course, untill the claustrophia and the furnace like heat was just unbareable. We left and took refuge near one of the huge speakers. And it was better there! We had the benefit of the two speakers and huge screens plus a view of the stage. We came out on top in the end.
Aerosmith was just the best. I could see how talented the guys were and how little effort they had to put in to entertain the masses. Their music was just fantastic. Tyler was just amzing and i couldn't believe that the guy is actually ancient! Bit cliche but the first song was Sweet Taste of India.
Perry seemed a bit obsessed with Vindaloo and incense but he changed his tune later and said that what he really loved India for was the Kama Sutra. How honoured we are.
Another thing that comes to mind is that foreigners come to India with such pre conceptions in their heads. Its disgusting. We're people too for heaven's sake! The other day me n Sangi were going somewhere on my bikey and we passed these two cops trying to usher two dumb looking cows off the road. (They had duh expressions on their face and were looking at the cops like they were aliens but never forgetting to chew cud at the same time.) Now thats surprising, seeing cows on mg road! So we laughed and we were just about to turn away when we saw these two foreigners lurking around a few feet away with their eyes wide open and (unfortunately) with a camera in their hands. They were clicking away like mad things and that just took the cake as the cows became confused and decided that they liked having their picture taken after all, adding further to the humiliation our country would face when the foregners would go home and show their children and grandchildren high quality photos of portly policeman ushering cows off the main road in a metropolitan Indian city.
"Where's that grandma?" says cute ten year old.
"Oh honey, thats Bangaloooree in Indiar. They have things like that happening all the time! Quite fascinating isn't it?" says ignorant grandma.
Methinks cameras should be banned but then, word of mouth is worse.

I went to a party. And not just any party (my utter lack of luck helped me here.)A page three party! dripping with sarcasm Yes I was thrilled, salivating, making strange practice-air-kisses and what not. “I get to meet ALL the airheads in Bangalore in one go!” was what I was thinking.
Anyway, I was yawning way before I got there thanks to a busy day at work and when I got there I yawned in the bouncer’s face while telling him what newspaper I was from. He didn’t appreciate it, I think. When I finally got my jaw back under my control, and told him the newspaper, he did a little sneer thing at me that made me want to hit his meaty face but then Om, my photographer, decided to step in and give the SOB a hug. “What are you doing?” I whispered ferociously at his traitorous act.
“I know him ya.” He said with a toothy smile.
I didn’t give a shit.
I glared at him while walking forward and tripped into the elevator. Luckily the doors closed before I could turn around.
I then had to follow him around like a little lost puppy dog as he went around hugging and high-fiving people at the party. (Big deal. I know people. Did you hear about the time I spoke to Arbaaz Khan? Ha!)
Om is actually very sweet. Anger wasn’t directed at him as such, just general.
I met a lot of people and at one point a girl came towards me while saying “Oh DAHHLING! There you are!” and then enveloped me in a bear hug. I smelled her and retched at her breast. I pulled away while smiling weakly at her. She saw my face and said “Oh” as if she just realized her lip gloss and smudged and not that she had hugged an absolute stranger. (terrified stranger as well)
Anyway, when Om was done with his rounds he told me to go to the bar. I thought this was his way of getting rid of my puppy dog expression with I’m-drunk-and-loving-it expression. That worked. NOT
I was still morose but managed to get the bar tender on my side. His name was Don and he was quite nice. But my respect for him plummeted when I asked for his ‘special’ and he gave me a vodka and sprite. Yuck…sissy drink.
I waited and waited and finally the thing happened….the unveiling of the three finalists for Get Gorgeous. PB was utterly gay. Who says things like “Call her bubbles darling! Everybody does!” Oh my God!! I felt like puking right there and then. But I contained myself and managed to smile dyspeptically and nod.
Then it was over, and I could breathe because the mass of ‘smelly’ people had dispersed and had gone to do whatever it is that they do at parties. Page three parties. Not for me.

ArrrrBaaz and the Rest

Went to Java City on Sunday. From work. Sat there and it wasn't the same. Kristofer was there. (Birdie is in the northern half of the country right now.) Kush was there. And a few other people I didn't know. Maybe i was tired. Kush was tryin to keep the mood up. (He even broke into song at one point. I gave him such a horrified expression that the poor thing stopped abruptly) Max was banging away on his percussion contraptions and all i could do was give a weak nod. (sad, sad) Even La Bamba couldn't wrench me out of my stupour. Well whatever it was, it went away the next day. (Thank the God of Grumbles!)
Work was fun that day. I had NOTHING to do (not that i was complaining.) I was actually pretending to do some ground breaking journalistic stuff(poetbay and orkut) when Poetyes called me to her ummmm....lets say cubicle for lack of any better alternative...and she told me to call Arbaaz Khan!( Black Buck killer's brother) Since it was my first brush with fame(after my meeting with Rahul Dravid, that is) I was skipping around the place squealing "I'm gonna interview Arbaaz Khan!" and irritating everybody. Only later did i realize that it wasn't such a huge thing. Who knew? Didn't Arbaaz Khan save the world sometime recent?? I think he did.
Anyway, I spoke to the man. He was sweet and everything. I forgot to ask him half the stuff and fabricated the rest in the article (DISCLAIMER: I most certainly DID not!)
I spent half of today talking to the people at LCI in Bangalore. Laughter Club International. I managed not to laugh even once. (How hard is it to tell a joke now and then.)

On a completely different note, i have a new joke! It goes;

"How do you know you're a pirate?"
"Ya just arrrrrrr!"

hahahahaha. If you're not rolling on the floor with laughter then get yourself checked out. I told this joke to millions of people and TWO of them laughed(Mangi and Kristofer). You're the abnormal ones :D
Signing off on a happy note....ciao u lot!

Gubai Lethargy

I'm starting my internship today!! I can't wait! I've been moping around the house making life hell for me n ma family. For once in a long time I had absolutely NO assignments or tests! I went into laziness mode and haven't surfaced from it for a week and a half! At least some good things have come out of it:

1. I've read six books full blown novels. (The intelligent ones not the crappy ones. *did neone say m n b's?)
2. I mastered the art of staring into space for prolonged periods of time without passing out or without appearing to be passed out.
3. I have never eaten so much in my entire life!!!
4. I don't think i remember how to write.
5. I have added numerous dimensions to the art of surfin the net
6. I am officially a couch potato (I know the TV schedule by heart. Whats that? "When does ER come on?" TUESDAYS @ 10 and then the repeat is at 10 in the morning the next day.)
7. I learnt that if you walk real slow them people don't really ask you to do stuff.
8. I learnt that it is only when you really wanna iron your clothes and go out after AGES that the power goes kaput.
9. I've learnt that it is possible to sleep from 11 @ nite and get up at 6 a.m only to go back to sleep at 8:30 and get up at 3:30 p.m. (This I'm proud of)
10. And finally, it has come to my notice that I am destined never to successfully drive anything more than a two wheeler.

CHEERS!