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-

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!)

*CLICK* II

Stalking is a strange thing. The term isn't as 'tightly' defined as you'd think. When i first think stalking, I think-the guy who killed Lennon (watch Chapter 24- the most boring, creepy movie that you'll ever watch) or the kind of people who are obsessed with movie stars. But that's so totally wrong. We're all a bit stalker-ish aren't we? And more often than not we end up thinking its pretty normal or even adventurous.

Facebook, for instance. It's a veritable stalker paradise. Especially if you're in the habit of adding people you don't know. I have often been pulled into a mad session of perusing through a friend's entire album simply because my right index finger attained a mind of its own and started clicking precisely every seven and a half seconds (the time it takes for a photo to load on my slow-ass computer). This one time i happened to turn my head to the right (to stretch out a kink) and caught my expression in one of the four mirrors in my room. (another time, another story). It was a mixture of vacuousness and extreme concentration. I reached up to touch the corner of my mouth actually, very seriously expecting drool to be there. After this horrendous revelatory moment in my young adult life I decided that I would keep my photo watching to a maximum of 5 per album and one album per day. And trust me, it helped.

When you photo watch you tend to commit wholly to the most fatal flaw of humankind. You COMPARE.

Drawing comparisons is like trying to run underwater. You're always up against a wall you can't climb over and its doubly tiring. There's always a better trip, a better idea, a better angle, a better party, a better set of friends or just a gosh darned better camera.

You end up feeling lousy most of the time and extend the validity on your period of feeling "sucky" (aren't i just the chirpiest bird in the bunch?!)

Though it does have its benefits, who're we kidding!? They're all bloody superficial!
And on that cheery note...I'm off to face...er study! ;)

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!

Ima gwain tuh Pune! Whu!

I'm my own conga line!
I swear its fun and easy. And all in three easy steps:

1. Watch joey and learn the joey dance.
2. Four jolts to a circular motion with hands (like stirring a large cauldron) and four words for each jolt. (You can use mine or your own...or increase or decrease words. Really, do what you frikkin want)
3. Don't forget the "Whu!" at the end that is punctuated with an alternately upward-downward both hand throwing out gesture thing, accompanied by weirdly twisting knee-bendy motion.
PS if my instructions are complex, its because I'm being selfish and dont want to share the perfectness fo the dance with you.

Ah, Pune.
My five glorious years in Pune are like a dream for me, or a nightmare. I had a horrendous time there, i had a wonderful time there. I'm effin dissapointed i didn't stay but i'm glad i got out when i did. I think i made great friends there(even if i suck at keeping in touch with them). I know i made a few enemies (even if im the one who hates them and they hardly know i exist).

And now, i've been in Bangalore for 2 years, 4 months and 16 days(half the time i was in Pune). 2 years, 4 months, 16 days of growing up, feeling the pain, being stepped on, kickin ass, hauling ass, being victorious, being rebellious, being secretive, being told off, telling people off, being miserable, being elated and finally realizing that vanilla is indeed my favourite ice cream for a reason and that i like being this person. This irrevocably crazy, at times insecure person who just can't get enough of learning about herself through obsessively scrutinizing other people.
And thats why i love both these places. I love them because they have attached to their very core whoever i am today(talk about being in love with inanimate objects!). To sum it all up its like i'm a snail making slow progress through life while leaving slime marks all over these places like a personal marking ritual.
I realize the analogy is just pure absurd and grose but its late and i'm distracted.

D day- 25th October

Respondez s'il vous plait.....or not!

I'm not much of a talker on the phone. In fact, most times that i am on the phone, unless its a call with a specific purpose, I'm thinking of things I could be doing that are more useful. It doesn't have anything at all to do with the person on the other end. Its just a feeling of restlessness that is mystically attached to the phone being close to my ear.
But there are a few people who i can just be on the phone with and not feel restless and not say anything at all because they just have so much to say and its such a pleasure listening to them. Its like this deep well of a personality that I'm peering into, slowly getting accustomed to the lighting and the contents of the well; gauging and coming to the conclusion that i chose a good well to peer into in the first place! Its deeply satisfying. Because you hang up feeling like you've accomplished something.
There are still a few who i can just be silent with on the phone. Meaning utter silence as both of us do something completely individual. Aside from being a complete and utter waste of money, this activity gives you a warm feeling that i have christened 'notaloneness'. You know that another person is on the line and it somehow makes whatever it is you are doing worthwhile. Plus there is instant friendly advice to be garnered in these cases.
Finally, family falls into just a completely exclusive. I love them too much to have any other feeling except contentment while talking to them.

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

Soul Men (Sigh)

Yikesipee! (as MM munch would say since she's obsessed with that Tad Hamilton movie )

I know i have raved about him before. But you must watch this guy singing. You must, you must!
Marc Broussard singing 'Come in from the cold'.
Raw, live; awesome!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WY5UAzG6P4

And another soul man is Shawn Mullins. (yes, thats how his name is spelt)
This second dude's voice is pure but tampered with-GOLD! Its reedy and bassy and just makes your heart reverberate and i recommend him to anyone who has a pair of ears. Or even one ear.

Shawn Mullins singing his song 'Lullaby'.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoWEpKBgNM8&feature=related
You must also check out his version of House of the Rising Sun:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OYiqplKrLo&feature=related

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.

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.

Depressed Bunnies, Jefferey Archer and the five year plan!

I was just going through my other blog that i made a long time ago. It is so superbly cringe-worthy. Yikes! I can't believe i thought it was net-worthy. (I used worthy twice. haha)
Its filled with these depressing poems that i probably wrote when i was in one of my 'moods'. i was one depressed bunny! Hmm...i wonder if bunnies get depressed. I dunno...mebbe they're depressed all the time. And i just realized that bunnies pretty much make no sounds-at all. They're dumb. Which makes me wonder if they're deaf as well. Coz we had rabbits when i was younger and i don't particularly remember them responding to the ghastly names we gave them. Not one sideways look. Not a raised ear. Nothing. Maybe the bunnies I had were depressed, deaf and dumb. I don't know.
My friend and i used to have fun with them though. We didn't exactly torture them but what we did is kind of in the gray area. Can't arrest or commend us for what we did. (Hah! In your face PETA) So anyway, we used to kidnap one of the bunnies, take it in to the drawing room, set it down on the sofa and push down. and guess what used to happen!?
Voila! It used to poop! Every single time! That was one weird rabbit.
haha...wipes tear from corner of eye.
We had some fun times.
Too bad that some stray dogs got to the bunnies.
shudders
I shan't recount that story! Poor bunnies. They couldn't even scream.
Goshdarnitalltohell. Now i'm sad. :(
On a perkier note, I may be meeting Jefferey Archer tomorrow! He's on his India book tour and he's in Bangalore tomorrow. I can't wait. He's a Lord. Finally, I'm meeting someone of my calibre! xD
Jefferey Archer made me think about my five year plan. (No he didn't. I just wanted to add it here because i didn't want to write a new post because ah'm a lazy bum)
my five-year plan is actually quite cool. It makes me kind-of focused at the moment. I discussed it with widegrin and she agrees that its brilliant. But then again, she's the kind of friend who would supoport you if she found out that you pooped rabbits. (this rabbit thing is not going away too quickly.)
Ta fer now!

two minutes after publishing post: wtf is supoport? haha.

(*Mad n Pari: you suck at nuards. Look at mine.)

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.

Internship story II

Four words that made me happy today: "What do you think"

Dude and duder from *** real estate agency walk into office for a preliminary look at our ideas for their brochures, flyers et stalls for exhibition. Sat down for about an hour.
Twas fun. Especially when my boss asks me : "Any inputs Sharanya?". She probably saw the deperate look in my eye that clearly said "ASK MEEE! PLEASEE!" After her enquiry i was immediately pulled into the discussion and boy was i glad! Since most of the copy ideas were my babies, i rattled on about the one we'd chosen and allayed their doubts about its viability. I was so happy that i didn't stutter or spit (as i am usually prone to do). But this was ok! Later, me and dude are looking at the mock-up on the comp and my boss leaves to take a call and we're alone in the room. Since i am the queen of awkward silences, one obviously followed. And then...

Dude: (looking at brochure) "What do you think?"
Me: (almost choke on spit but recover) "Erm...its nice!"
At this point i was thinking what a shite thing to say!! i should have said, its brilliant! Mind blowing! Now he's gonna ask for a do-over and my boss is gonna fire my ass! Might as well leave right now.
Dude: "Why do you think its just nice?"
Shit. I desperately look to see if my boss is returning this century and stall by pretending to cough.
Me: "Well, you know. I think the tagline may give a kind of negative vibe to a reader. And one of the advantages of a good tagline is that it draws a potential customer in. This tagline just sounds nice. It doesn't actualy have anything to do with what you're showcasing right?" (i ended on a questioning note because his face had remained impassive the entire time)
I've blown it.
Dude: "And what would you suggest?"
Uh oh. Challenge time.
Me: "How about ******** instead of this." Fingers crossed

Status of my suggestion: Accepted
My Status : Ecstatic

My Starved Blog

My blog is like a dog. It needs to be nourished and fed and updated and right now its lying half starved, wracked with convulsions of hunger, on the floor. I can already hear the RSPCA at my door! Well, its time i updated! ("darn right!" exclaims my blog dog from the floor)

One and a half months! Doesn't feel like that short a while! I feel like so much has happened and yet i can't put my finger on any one of these incidents!
I went for a camp recently and though it didn't compare to any of the other camps I've been on, i loved it! The trek was the funnest part and though it was an elaborate treasure hunt, for the most part i just thought of it as a beautiful trek through one of the yellagiri hills! (Probably explains why my team lost)

Speaking of camps i just recalled the funnest camp i've been to! I went from Pune. I was in the ninth standard i think and the camp was in Nasik. It was organised by the army. And that's why i was surprised that though we were staying in a tent (as in all camps), we had cots and mattresses and a seperate tent as a bathroom (complete with sink and crap hole and bucket for a warm water bath.) Besides the five star accomodation and loo we also had a general three sided tent for lazing around or meetings that contained board games and other stuff for entertainment purposes. And there's more...there was also a mess tent where we had our meals on (wait for it) with plates and spoons! haha! I was laughing at how luxurious our camp was! And here i was worrying about crapping in the wilderness and using leaves (of a poisonous plant -knowing my luck) as toilet paper!
The camp was for three or four days and we had the time of our lives! We rappelled (i dunno if thats how its spelt) and trekked and it was fantastic! There were just about seven of us and the camp was equipped for at least forty kids so we got to do everything how many ever tijmes we liked!! I rappelled down that rockside so many times that i got confident and decided i wanted to walk down the side horizontally (i had seena few javans doing it). Well, that ended up in me dangling, shrieking somewhere in the middle, from where i had to be rescued (while still shrieking) I recovered fast and was back to rappelling in a few minutes...
We also drove down to a nearby lake and learnt how to kayak and rappel across a river and cook our own meals of khichdi. (Some survival training-mine was the colour of crap but that didn't stop me from eating it with great gusto)
Towards the end of it we were sat down and told to fill out a form about the camp and the experiences we had there. Budding writer that i was at the time, i wrote with great flourish and was careful to add loooong words that made mine sound more impressive than the others'. I gave it to the officer in charge with a supercilious expression and a smirk, thinking it would be added to a top secret database that was kept in a fireproof box within a fenced compund guarded by dogs. I came home .
And at home i was greeted with relative joy by my family (i was quite a pain when i was a child) and my eyes widened with horror when my father, with a sadistic smile on his face, read out words from a paper that were so very familiar. I had been betrayed!! In my overactive imagination i could picture the entire thing- the fence had been breached, the dogs dodged and the fireproof box broken open by my father. The next excruciating hour was spent on rahashing all the pretentious little things i had deemed appropriate for my camp form.
But it ended well when my mother gave me an appreciative pat on the back and said "How cute Shar! My baby!"
And my father grudgingly stops re-reading the form long enough to say "Looks like you had fun"
My sister, however, was still sniggering.

Incomprehensible (like this word)

Am i the only person the planet who doesn't get Facebook?
What is with all the applications? (Apparently you can join the Vampires club and bite random people thereafter. Why would you want to do something like that?)
Why, oh why, is it the new Orkut?
The only thing i like is the photo posting thing...you can share photos and you can add as many as you like..
I just realized i'm pretty challenged when it comes to stuff like this.
Eurgh...some people have to get a life...now excuse me while i go and obsessively check other pople's profiles and photos on Facebook.
Bye now.
(I just realized today that if i make the entire post bold and make the font larger it makes the entry look larger than it actually is. Ah..the extents my laziness takes me to.)

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.

Crisis Stations!!

Have you ever noticed how different people react so very differently in times of crisis. Its fun to just observe the different methods through which they decide to handle the situation.

For instance, some people like to very categorically give a summary of the problem and then leave their dreaded proclamation hanging in the air to be digested by the rest involved. For eg
"We're stuck in a burning car and we're going at 80 kmph. There's no way we can jump out. So we have a choice between burning to death or hitting the asphalt at 80 kmph. *looks pompous as pandemonium/silence follows, depending on the crowd*

Some people like to look scared and turn to others for assistance. For eg
*looks at growing flames and says* "WhatdowedonowWhatdowedonow?" *lower lip trembles*

Then there are those who genuinely believe they're helping but are actually bunging it all up even further. They truly don't mean any harm but end up causing much more chaos than they would have wanted to. For eg
*says* "Here, let me help you!" reaches over and unlatches car door allowing person to fall out and hit asphalt at 80kmph. "Well! Thats a brave chap! I can't see myself doing that!"
I don't think there is the perfect person to be in a crisis. To put it crudely every dog has its day. So even the timid person could see something obvious that the the bold and blustrous(is that a word??) overlooked.

*looks meek while saying it* "just slow down dude."
or
*blunders forward while saying* There's a fire extinguisher attached to the windscreen! Let me!! *cut to three seconds later-everyone is covered in white foam*

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.

Another boy bites the dust...

Hello!

My guest book has two comments now. One from the beautiful, one-chocolate-richer Kristofer and the other one from 'boy' who is evidently a depraved, tasteless....uhhhh....boy(?). Fortunately i don't give a rat's ass about what he thinks.

(His exact comment: "Why in Ayn Rand's name would anyone visit this blog twice ?
Btw that name is only for me to address myself."
Whatever that means!)

Since boy wonder must think its very intelligent to say the name Ayn Rand and still not know whether its a woman or a man, I thought I'd give a small intro to one of the greatest writers ever! I've read Atlas shrugged. There's something very haunting about it and you get it only if you've read it at least twice. I love how it all falls into place the second time. And even though its supposed to dapple in the complex world of philosophy I didn't experience the stigma of boredom usually associated with philosophy and its derivatives.
And adhering to a statement earlier I really do not give a rat's ass ( as this post has clearly demonstrated. Hahahaha)
Begone cursed 'boy'. Thou art not welcome anyway.
Ciao! :)