Dud Sea Scrawls The Writing, clearly, is not on the wall!

I know its kind of late to be commenting on this…but i could not take it anymore!The whole world is going gaga over something that J K Rowling said. The author and the creator of the Harry Potter book series informed her struck readers that the most accomplished wizard of all times, the man who was more than a mentor to the troubled Harry, the man who had all the answers, was gay. And I guess that not even Albus Dumbledore has the answer to the furore that this revelation has created.

It would be so much easier if ‘Answers to Life, the Universe and Everything’ would be the number 42, as put in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. However, considering that it took Deep Thought 7-and-a-half million years to provide the answer, and then he could not provide the Ultimate Question, it is a tad difficult to suppose that I would get all the answers to my questions in this lifetime.
Here’s hoping someone can answer at least some of them.

I love machines. And it is this love that makes me want to understand each and every small nut, bolt and socket, especially, the cars I drive, which are Maruti Gypsy and Fiat Uno.
Now, this fascination would not be a problem or an issue, if I were just the right gender. But, due to the blessed fate of nature, I am a girl. Which basically means that I am continuously ridiculed, slandered and sometimes downright humiliated when I confess my love and my knowledge of vehicles.

i am really sorry. i know i never should have gone there. i know i should not have put that vile (it really did taste vile) stuff in my mouth. i know i should not have flouted so many rules and taken another step towards being a ‘damned’ the rest of my life. but my greatest regret and the thing i feel most sorry about is that i didnt realise it was all an illusion from the very start.

I know i am anonymous, and yet i fear being discovered
I know i am never judged, and yet i worry every moment if i am right or wrong
I know i am faceless, and yet i fear losing face
I know i am nameless, and yet i fear the blame game
I know i am mortal, and yet i fear death

Why cant i let go and enjoy the ride?

I have a colleague who eats one packet of curd, one apple or one cup cake as lunch. I have a friend who has biscuits (Marie; I think even dog biscuits taste better and have more nutrition) for breakfast and puffed rice flakes (the ones used in Bhel) for dinner.

I have always wondered what all that was about; being thin! I always buy these ‘Woman’ magazines and this time while I was traveling to Mumbai, I whiled away part of the journey reading a magazine that featured several glossy photographs of young women who were either seriously ill or suffering from an eating disorder like anorexia (which is of course, the same thing); I don’t think there can be any other explanation for the shape of their bodies. These women talk about eating loads and having the world’s fastest metabolism, but their concave stomach, protruding ribs and stick-like arms tell a different story. I wondered is fat really the worst thing a human being can be. Is being fat worse than being ‘shallow’, ‘cruel’, ‘vain’, or ‘boring’?

Duran Duran: Come Undone
Mine, immaculate dream, made breath and skin, Ive been waiting for you,
Signed, with a home tattoo, happy birthday to you was created for you.
(cant ever keep from falling apart.. at the seams)
(cant I believe youre taking my heart.. to pieces)
Ahh, it’ll take a little time, might take a little crime to come undone
Now well try to stay blind, to the hope and fear outside,
Hey child, stay wilder than the wind
And blow me in to cry.
Who do you need?
Who do you love?
When you come undone.
(Love gained, Innocence lost!)

Cranberries: Zombies
Another head hangs lowly,

From Aesop to the Grimm brothers, all cultures and societies, have storytelling as a root form of communication. Stories have been used to convey moral code to children; in adult and professional life, stories are told about partners, friends, and organizations through the stories they tell. Telling stories is what makes us create and remember who we are. As Roger Schank, a leading figure in cognitive science, and author of the seminal work ‘Tell Me a Story’ puts it, “We need to tell someone else a story that describes our experiences because the process of creating the story also creates the memory structure that will contain the gist of the story for the rest of our lives. Talking is remembering.”

The job I am currently in is my first experience with the ‘corporate’ culture. I work as an Instructional Designer in an e-learning solutions provider company. Since mine is a ISO certified company, it seems that it is compulsory to have weekly trainings and loads of policies. My earlier job was in a newspaper and ‘meeting’ there meant me and my editor at loggerheads , fighting with each other and shouting at the top of our voice and then continuing this rather pleasant conversation over tea, brunch, lunch or dinner.

Meetings and trainings here mean usually and hour and half long (minimum) and I have no clue why they are held just before lunchtime; they make me listen to crap till my stomach growls and I am sure the entire conference room can hear it. I also have this very bad mental condition, which forces me to think of going to the loo that minute I hear the words training and meeting.

I watched Rang De Basanti yesterday and for the first time ever in my life, I was filled with the weirdest emotion after watching a movie: DREAD. No it wasn’t for the country or the youth or the corruption and apathy showcased in the movie; it was for myself.

As I watched it, I wondered about how long I will be able to tolerate all that was portrayed in the movie, all that the protagonists in the film fight against. This helplessness at the way things are, turning a blind eye when I know I should be giving ‘an-eye-for-an-eye’.

How long will we blame the government for the poor condition of roads, the heaps of garbage all over the city, the apathy towards those suffering and being in need the most? How long will we blame the ‘politicians’ for the state of our country… the polticians whim we have chosen to rule over us through voting and not voting! How long will an average person continue to suffer in silence? How long will we blame or karma, our fate for being born in this ‘god-forsaken’ country? How long will we put religion and castes before friendship, peace and love? How long will we have to live in constant fear of being attacked not just by neighbouring nation and militants but also by those we call uncles and brothers? How long will we be captives in this world’s biggest democracy because of our corrupt system? How long will this democracry, this republic this independence last if freedom to us means ‘taking a leak by the roadside with a fag in my hand’? (exact replication of a youngster when asked what freedom of India meant to him- printed in Pune Times two years back)How long will we continue to grow self centered and conceited and look at bomb blasts, killings, rapes and atrocities which only happen to and because of the so-called illiterate class? How long will we take all of this lying down and how long will doing this keep us sane????

Jan25: Republic Day Tomorrow
Its Republic Day tomorrow. My Republic Day always starts with getting up early in the morning and going to my college (Fergusson College, Pune) to attend the flag-hoisting ceremony. Though its been three years since i passed, I still go every year on the 26th of January and 15th of August. There’s something so amazing about getting up early on these days and singing the national anthem. Also in our college, there are always parades from the NCC wing which are an absolute delight to watch.
My agenda after this is always rushing back home to watch the parade on DD. But on 15th of August, I linger on because the two most happening restaurants on F.C. Road- Savera and Vaishali offer very delectable and ‘made-especially-for-the-occasion’ Tiranga Masala Dosa and Uttappa.

Working my *** off! So no time for a new post. In the meanwhile, check out some great cures for after-work party hangovers!

Side effects of alcohol … and remedies
1. Symptom: Cold and humid feet.
Cause: Glass is being held at incorrect angle (You are pouring the drink on your feet).
Cure: Maneuver glass until open end is facing upward

2. Symptom: The wall facing you is full of lights.
Cause: You’re lying on the floor.
Cure: Position your body at a 90-degree angle to the floor.

3. Symptom: The floor looks blurry.
Cause: You’re looking through an empty glass.
Cure: Quickly refill with your favorite beverage.

I was travelling to Mumbai by the Sinhgad Express on Saturday. I must make a confession here. I LOVE TRAINS. When I say that, I really mean it. They kind of make me mushy and sentimental inside. Everytime a train passes, you can be sure there is a big lump stuck in my throat. I must have been a train driver or a station master in my previous life. I swear, I wouldnt mind becoming one in this life either.
In school, I was an active participant in a campaign which my biology teacher had spiritedly started to clean up the trains which ran between Pune-Mumbai. This history coupled with my undying love for trains was responsible for quite a drama unfolding during my above mentioned trip.

“Are they allowing child marriages in India now?” I was asked by an interviewer once when I told her I was married. (A brief background to understand this utterance would be that I am 23 years old but look very young, so most people are unbelieving when I tell them that I am married for more than a year now. My marital status is not displayed by my attire or the complete lack of ‘suhhag-ki-nishaani’ on me). In my defence, I knew my husband for five years before marriage and had a live-in relationship for a year, so it just seemed the next step.

These are really strange reactions in a land where girls are married off at the age they hit puberty which could be anything between eleven and fourteen. Also ‘well-educated, culturally and morally sound’ parents cant wait to get their daughters off their hands, marrying them at the age of eighteen or nineteen. A friend of mine was recently married and is now finding it really hard to adjust in the new family. Both the partners are equally young and restless, so they are having a host of troubles between them, also.

That sure seems like wierd subject for a blog, doesnt it? But actually being one myself, let me just put forward some of my interpretations and seek to justify them through some everyday examples.

1) You dont get invited to a thousand ‘haldi-kunkus’ and ‘dohal-jevans’ and smile at thousand people and accept and give crappy gifts like half a kilo of jaggery, plastic soap boxes…..

2) Its ok for you to make certain mistakes like forgetting its Makar Sankrant and cook chicken. Or if you dont know all the 24 something aratis of Lord Ganesha.

3) You dont have to live up to an image. An image that most people create for other people about what their kids really are. (Our Karishma is so intelligent, she tops her german class everytime) when in reality, Karishma is busy flunking SYBCom. Parents make the best PR agents for their kids. And like most of the PR agents worldwide, what is endorsed and flaunted is rarely the real deal.

Early in the morning, reading the Maharashtra Herald made me angry. The MCC (Maharashtra Cultural Council) was stopped from performing their latest play by the PPS (Patit Pavan Sanghtana)- self proclaimed and self righteous upkeepers of morality and all that jazz in Maharashtra.
The play in question was titled ‘MARUTI AND CHAMPAGNE’ and they thought it would hurt religious sentiments because of the word ‘Maruti’. While the producers insist its just the name of the protagonist in the play and it would be all clear if the PPS saw the play once, the PPS refuses to see the play unless the title is changed.